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#they used to call me Green Day Girl for a reason

thestarsarebrightertonight · 21 days

Text

cinnamon girl // theodore nott x fem reader

"violet blue green red to keep me at arms length dont work"

playlist : cinnamon girl - lana del rey

summary : everyone knows you have a crush on theo , even he knows! so when you randomly start avoiding him one day , theodore cant help but go crazy.

sunshine reader , y/n used , hufflepuff reader

masterlist

"theo!" you called out happily , running to the boys side and catching his wrist to stop his strides down the corridor, "hi, ive been meaning to talk to you!".

he looked at you , seeming displeased and just grunted in response , turning away and not even looking at your smiling face that admired him so softly.

"so you have a match on saturday and i was just wondering wether i should support you or hufflepuff? i always try and do my best in encouraging you but when youre against my house it becomes difficult-"

"i dont care do whatever." he said simply , finally turning to look back at you with an annoyed face.

your expression dropped for a split second , a moment so small it was hardly detectable but for that single second your smile dropped completely. and theo noticed. he thought that was probably the first time in your whole life youve stopped smiling. and the first time youve dropped your delicate hold on his wrist.

but you quickly regained composure , smiling up at him although not as sweetly as before , it almost seemed strained this time , "right , thats fine. ill just see what i can do closer to the time. bye theodore"

theodore. ouch. theo watched as you walked away silently , not turning back at all. he tried not to read too much into you , he didnt want to think he cared enough to, but hearing you call him by his full name and not theo? he hated to admit it stung a little more than he thought it would.

----

"hey!" you said enthusiatically as you sat down besides your close friend hannah , she looked up from the desk and greeted you back.

usually in charms you found yourself sat besides her , talking all lesson or admiring theodore , but you could help but avoid his side of the room like its the plague.

the plague being the pretty ravenclaw girl that for some reason was sat next to him as they discussed something civilly. usually theo sat with mattheo or alone since mattheo wasnt regularly spotted in charms , so to see him sat next to a girl youve never seen him with? you felt your heart shatter right onto the ground around you.

"y/n? are you listening?" hannah tried to ask you until she followed where you stared and saw theodore with the ravenclaw , "oh".

you nodded besides her , forcing a tight smile onto your lips and finally dragging your eyes from them , "its fine , everyone knows he doesnt like me back, i guess i was just in denial about it."

hannah saddened at the forced laugh that you let out , pulling you into a hug and rubbing your back , "he was never good enough for you anyways. youre a whole galaxy and theodore nott is the moon , nothing compared to you."

"i love the moon," you said softly as your eyes began to well up with tears.

hannah pulled back and scanned the room before grabbing your hand , "professor flitwick isnt here yet , leave now and if he asks ill say you were sick. go to our dorms and ill get snacks from the kitchen and we can stay in tonight , sound good?"

you smiled happily at her , "thank you hannah"

she returned the smile with a light nod before handing you your bag and shooing you away , watching as you left the classroom hastily.

failing to feel theos eyes that burned into your fleeting figure.

---

the next few days were odd for theodore nott. something felt missing but he couldnt quite place his finger on it...

that was until he made eye contact with you in the hall and watched in suprise as you looked away and practically sprinted down the corridor , rather than coming up to him with a bright small and a new topic to rant about.

and he didnt like it. not one bit.

for the rest of the week he picked up on the things that you did - or didnt do.

how your smile would drop when you made eye contact with theodore. how youd talk happily to lorenzo and then make an excuse to leave as soon as theo tried to join the coversation. how you stopped sitting next to him in potions and instead sat with hermione , chatting away to her and not noticing the glare theodore sent towards the both of you.

but the one thing that pushed him over the edge was when he flew out onto the quidditch pitch and immediately searched for you in the stands , only to spot you waving at diggory , wearing his jersey?!

theodore had never felt jealous before -lies- but in that moment he held onto his broom a lot harder than before , his whole body felt hotter and his eyes glared holes into cedric diggorys back.

lets just say that throughout the match he made sure to shove diggory with every chance he got , eventhough none of it was necessary as they had completely different roles in the game.

"nott get off diggorys fucking broom and do your job!" adrian shouted at him from across the pitch , making theodore roll his eyes before giving cedric a last shove and flying away.

from the stands you watched theodore in confusion ,along with the rest of the audience , staring as he yet again flew in the path of cedric and shoved him to the side before contiuing to chase the hufflepuff chaser.

"it seems like nott is more concered in giving the golden boy diggory a good push rather than actually fulfilling his job , typical slytherins playing dirty in my opinion-" lees comentating was cut off by professor mcgonagall clearing her throat , "sorry professor."

----

the match had ended and purely because of the rest of the slytherin team , they won , however the poor performance of theodore threw the whole teams goal points off.

"what the fuck is wrong with you theodore!?" draco shouted as the team entered the changing tents , "if i hadnt gotten that golden snitch we wouldve lost AND been the comedic relief of all the other houses!"

theodore let out a heavy sigh before sitting down on one of the benches with his head in his hands , pulling his hair aggresively, "shove off malfoy im not in the mood".

"all this because of some hufflepuff mudblood wearing diggorys jersey-" draco started again , before being pushing harshly by a now infuriated theodore.

"the FUCK did you say malfoy?!" theo screamed in his face , being pulled away by lorenzo who tried to calm the situation.

"guys we won and thats all that matters!" enzo tried to reason with the furious boys.

"barley , berkshire! theo over here nearly fucked everything up because of childish jealousy!" draco shouted back , venom dripping off his words.

"who said i was fucking jealous?" theo shouted back as majority of the team turned to him with disbelief.

"you nearly dropped the quaffle twice because you were too busy figuring out how you could shove cedric on the way to the goalhoops-" mattheo started before being cut off by the curtain of the tent being pulled back.

revealing a girl covered in bright yellow , covering her eyes and trying to walk into the tent without falling, "c-can i look?".

the whole tent gaped in shock before lorenzo finally spoke up , "yeah..yeah you can look y/n dont worry."

you quickly uncovered your eyes and blinked as they adjusted to the light , looking at the scene before you which showed theodore being held back from draco by lorenzo and a disapproving mattheo stood in front of the lockers.

"theodore what are you-" you started before being cut off by the boy shaking his head rapidly.

"stop - stop calling me theodore i cant stand when you call me that."

you stared in suprise as theodore shrugged off lorenzos hands and walked over to you, this was possibly the most emotion the boy had shown to you.

"oh uh right sorry , i just wanted to say well done for the match. i was rooting for hufflepuff but there isnt any other team that deserve it more than you guys!" you smiled awkwardly as the team thanked you a short silence following , "anyways , theres a certain hufflepuff thats a bit gutted about his loss so im gonna-"

"diggory?" theo asked with a sour tone as he stepped closer to you , not breaking eye contact.

"yeah , hes upset but i said if he lost id make him a crochet blanket to make him feel better so-"

"but you only make me crochet things." theodore said coldly as you stuttered again , unfamiliar with this behaviour from theo.

"ha , yeah i do but um , i didnt think you liked them so i thought id just put my efforts elsewhere!" you laughed awkwardly.

"the blanket you made him's on his bed , he takes it home aswell because he cant sleep without it-" mattheos teasing was cut off by a sharp glare from theo.

"shut up riddle!" theo seethed before turning back to you.

"no dont be embarassed theo - its nice to know you love it!" you said , finally regaining a comfort in theos presence at this news.

"i love you." he stated simply as the whole room fell into a dead silence.

your mouth hung wide open , as did his teamates before they were ushered out of the room by enzo , your moment with theo requiring the upmost privacy.

"you- you what?!" you asked in pure shock as the final player exited the tent.

"i love you," theo stated again as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"but- but you like hate me , you dont even reply when i talk or smile at me-" you ranted.

"youre right, i hate you. i hate how you love me more than anyone else has before you... i hate your hair and your perfect smile.... and i despise how you make me feel," he stepped so close that your bodies touched and his hand rested on your cheek firmly , "but theres a very thin line between love and hate."

you gaped up at him in suprise , "theo-"

he quickly took a step back and walked to his locker , pulling out a top, more specifically his jersey that he now handed to you.

"take that god awful jersey off i dont think i can handle looking at it for one more second" he said bitterly , staring down at the yellow top you wore with distaste.

"i love you too." you said , still frozen in place and staring up at him.

"i think everyone knows that princess." he said with a laugh , the first laugh youd heard from him in a long time.

a blush spread to your cheeks , both at his words and the addictive sound of his soft chuckle.

"why have you always ignored me if you love me?" you asked still being slightly unpleased with his random confession.

his smile dropped as he frowned and looked at you sympathetically , "i just thought you were doing it all for fun , maybe to mock me or something. i tried to shut out the fact i like you and it clearly didnt work , i was just ...scared." he confessed in a moment of complete vunerability.

you admired him with care and empathy as he spoke from his heart so purely , before your face cracked into a teasing smile , "you know i wasnt actually rooting for hufflepuff?"

he smirked wrapping arms around your waist and pulling you in closer ,"oh really?"

you nodded and pulled the braid in your hair over your shoulder , to reveal the dark green bow that wrapped around the end of it.

theodore grinned upon seeing this as you both giggled , a sweet first kiss following the heart to heart.

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backwzzds · 4 months

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absolutely need a plug!zoro cheating on his gf with u nsfw …

no bc y’all are on a roll w these plug!zoro requests! position is based off this video btw 😩

ೃ⁀➷ what you want, roronoa zoro

thinking about the way that man would literally hate his girlfriend fr. like, he’s sure he’s only with her because his family loves her, but he just doesn’t. and i mean he proves that when he ends up outside your door in the middle of the rainy night, somewhere around 3 AM.

everyone would always ask him—why not just break up with her? and zoro never had an answer. his girlfriend was too fragile of a person and he hated that crying shit honestly. the only person he ever cared about making cry was ironically you.

his relationship was anything but secure. zoro was chill with whatever his girlfriend did. he trusted her, at first. she wanted to go to a party, he’d let her. she got a ride from some guy friend who was maybe his level of attractive? he didn’t care. but the same rules didn’t apply to him. zoro could be getting ready to go to work and his girlfriend would be up on him with accusations.

“i feel like you’re gonna go and fuck that bitch,” his girlfriend spat with venom, referring to you as he slid on his jeans. the green head couldn’t help but roll his eyes as she rambled on about disliking you. he couldn’t help but chuckle to himself lightly when he realized how crazy she was behind closed doors.

“well now i’mma go do that just cuz’ you said it,” he muttered, just trying to get underneath her skin. his girlfriend thought he was bluffing, but not with the way blood rushed to zoro’s dick at the thought of just being in your arms to cuddle tonight.

zoro doesn’t think twice either when it comes to pulling up to your crib. he parked in front of your cute little car, something he did to express his dominance over you in the way your cars together looked like a ‘his and hers’ pair. he was weird like that, but that’s just how much he felt for you fr.

by the time he gets to your door, his heart is already thumping in his chest. not in fear of getting caught, but instead at the sight of you in your tiny nightdress, two sizes to small to barely contain your wide hips and busty breasts.

you give him a blank look as you leaned against the threshold of the door. “ian call you for no weed.”

zoro gives you his million dollar smirk. “you should know that’s not the only reason i come over anymore.”

“yeah yeah to cheat on your girl, sure zoro,” you roll your eyes.

the green head kisses his teeth, “not cheating if i don’t want her.” with a step to the side, you helplessly let him in, and he wastes no time in kissing your lips. “missed you so damn much.”

“missed you too,” you can’t help but mutter against his lips. zoro wraps his hands around your waist and pulls your smaller frame against this larger own. his hands shamelessly wanter down to the fat of your ass as he grips it, giving it a reddening smack and repeating his actions.

zoro pulls away with one last peck to your lips. “how was your day mama?” he grabs your hand and drags you to the couch.

“fine,” you muttered with a bored expression, grabbing the remote to turn on the tv.

zoro furrows his eyebrow and snatches the remote from your hand. “what’s up wit’ you? you okay? talk to me.”

you shrug your shoulders. “i’m straight,” but your tone wasn’t convincing him otherwise.

zoro gives you a suspicious hum before pulling you into his lap. “what you doing tomorrow night?”

“probably homework,” you admit. “why?”

zoro can’t help but grin at you, flashing his gold canine pieces. “got us tickets to see that standup you been wanting to go to.”

your eyes can’t help but brighten at his words. “you lying.”

“i’m so deadass,” zoro laughed.

you kiss your teeth and slap his chest. “you don’t even like comedy!”

the greenhead gives you a shy shrug with a small blush flaming his tan cheeks. “they have an open bar, free sake so,” with a playful roll of your eyes, you kiss your teeth but smile. “so you gon’ stop giving me this bratty ass silent treatment?”

“whatever. you’re a whore for sake.”

“nah,” zoro shakes his head. “you ain’t hit me all week. you know what i had to go through not talking to you.”

you give him a sarcastic frown before pecking his lips. “aw, poor baby.” you move to pull away but are shocked when zoro grips your face and forces you back into his orbit.

how you found yourself half naked on his lip with your legs spread for him—you don’t know. damn mosshead was just that good.

“i got you,” zoro’s voice is all you hear as he steadies you on top of him with your back facing the tv. his one arm is all he needs to steady your body against his lip while he uses the other to start rubbing at you clit. “just touch me baby.”

a breath escapes from your throat as you find the courage to wrap your hand about his hard cock. his tip is an angry peach color as it oozes out pre cum, already excited from your touch. “like this daddy?”

“fuck, just like that mama,” zoro’s own breath hitches in his throat as he fights not to buck up into your grasp. “love the way you touch me. just like that baby. make me feel so safe.”

you’re almost shocked by the words leaving your mouth as you continue jerking him. the two of you hold an intimate scope of eye contact as you touch each other’s body, nothing being heard but the soft moans and breaths from your arousal.

“make you feel safe?” your voice is soft and sultry as you run your thumb over his tip. zoro can’t help but groan at his sensitivity, too late to even catch himseld. “feel safe when im loving you like this papa? you like that?”

“oh fuck, yes,” zoro whined, fully submitting to you. his girlfriend had never seen this side of him. every time he had sex with her, if he ever did, it was quick and to the point. no one was able to milk out this soft and vulnerable side to him but you. oh how you had his fucking heart and dick in the comfort of your pocket.

your legs are spread in front of zoro, giving him a complete view of what you were working it. somehow wanting to see you spread more, he grabs you by your thighs and opens you up more, practically salivating at the sight of your pretty clit glistening from his touch.

“you make me feel safe too,” you breath out with a blushed smile, trying to keep your pace with jerking zoro off. it was hard to do so when he was rubbing you nice and slow, just the way he knew you liked it.

at this point? it was all more than sex. zoro meant every word he uttered out, especially how you made him feel safe during his most vulnerable moments. only you bought this side out in him.

“fuck i’m almost there, zee.” you throw your head back and grind further into his touch.

“me too baby,” zoro breathed out, watching as cum oozed from his tip by the second. “you fuck me so good, no one does it like you—shit.”

you lick your lips as you lean over and spit on zoro’s cock, adding more lubricant to your already slippery movements. “like it when i stroke your fat cock papa? like this?”

“zoro bites his lip and nods his head. a whine fights to break through from his mouth as he lets out a broken “mhm. fuck, mama. keep going and you’ll make me cum.”

you take this as a challenge and speed up your movements with hopes to overstimulate him. zoro’s mouth falls open, and the tables inevitably turn when he’s shaking beneath you, watching you milk every drop of cum out of him. you hold your tongue out as he shoots his load upwards, droplets of his semen landing on your taste buds.

a greedy smile graces your lips as you continue jerking him off, more and more cum flying out from his sore tip by the second. “fucking hell—just like that just like that, fuck!” zoro moans loudly as he feels himself get drained.

you didn’t mind the fact that he came before you this time. watching this hard man come undone before you was enough to have you creaming all over his fingers right after. you too begin to breathe heavily as zoro maintians his circular movements against your clit.

when you’re both fucked out from your intimate session, zoro slides you onto his lap, your clit begrudgingly grinding against the base of his still hard dick. with his face in your neck, he breathes out, “i’ll break up with her. your eyebrows raise at his words. “if that’s what you want.” you waste no time in giving him a stern response.

“it is what i want.”

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fathomlessgaze · 2 months

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bring your child to work day: zayne and his daughter spend a day at the hospital

fluff, dad!zayne/reader (a little bit), ~2.2k

warnings: reader only makes a small appearance it's mostly about zayne + his daughter spending quality time together tbh, allusions to zayne + mc's lore (no specific memory idt just the overarching theme of their story), zayne is a devoted girl dad bc i believe in girldad!zayne...

a/n: mc/reader + zaynes daughter is named zenith here bc i liked the idea of them sharing an initial 😭 meaning the highest point/the point right above you in the sky bc i think thats what she would be for zayne+mc like one of the best moments of their lifetimes :( anyway it's mentioned in the fic but shes the spitting image of zayne thats his mini-me fr

“good morning,” zayne says, passing by the nurses’ station without much fuss. it’s an ordinary wednesday, after all.

“morning,” greyson echoes with a curt nod, his eyes still focused on the files he’s reviewing from an overnight patient.

“mornin’!” a third voice calls happily.

greyson freezes, his papers falling unceremoniously on the floor. “huh!?” he exclaims, a little too loud for a hospital corridor.

however the chief pays his outburst no mind, and he suddenly sees why, greyson’s gaze finding the little girl perched on his boss’ hip. of course, he remembers, it’s “bring your child to work” day. but for some reason, he never thought that zayne would actually bring his child to work. perhaps that explains why he’d made sure no surgeries were scheduled for this day weeks ago.

zayne strokes her dark hair, brushing a loose strand from her pigtails behind her ear. “this is dr. greyson,” he speaks softly, pointing in his direction. “dr. greyson, meet zenith.”

“nice to meet you!” she exclaims, waving a chubby hand in the air, paying no mind to his wide eyes and slack jaw.

she can’t be over four judging from her height, and, of course, greyson knew zayne had a daughter, but he didn’t really know. he remembers you mentioning her at your appointments, the photos on his desk and, of course, zayne’s paid time off actually being used at personal all time highs (which had already been on the incline after you moved in and then got married) since a few years ago, but it still feels surreal to actually see him with his child.

if she has any opinion on greyson’s lack of response besides the cartoon birds that would appear around his head if they were in an animated tv show, she gives no hint. instead, she smiles brightly, her green eyes sparkling as she takes zayne’s glasses off his face and fists the lenses, trying to rotate them in her tiny hands and fit them on her own face.

somehow, with the much too large frames perched on her nose, she looks even more like her father. everything, from her dark hair tied with ribbons to her hazel eyes, the curve of her brow and little nose, she is her father’s daughter to a t. perhaps the only un-zayne-like thing about her is the permanent cheeriness in her gaze and her gummy smile. that she must’ve gotten from you. while greyson has definitely noticed how his boss has become a little less taciturn and stern over the years, he would be lying to himself if he said he ever thought zayne would become even a miniscule fraction as bubbly as the daughter he holds close right now.

“i didn’t know you were bringing your daughter in today!” greyson exclaims, the realizations of today finally settling and coming together in his mind.

there’s a fondness in his eyes as he glances to zenith, his lips quirking the slightest bit upwards. “she’s been asking for weeks to come with me; i figured now would be the best time with the other kids here. i know you’ve seen the schedule for today, but—”

“oh my god!” yvonne gasps, speeding towards the trio gathered. “you brought your daughter, dr. zayne!” she extends her hand to the girl, which she happily takes. “i’m yvonne, i work with your dad.”

“i’m zenif,” she babbles, her syllables getting caught on her missing tooth.

simultaneously both greyson and yvonne coo at the little girl.

“aren’t you the cutest thing? i’ve seen so many pictures of you but you’re just the dearest little one, hm?”

and word of mouth travels fast, because, soon enough, a whole crowd has come to fuss over the most adorable little girl who looks exactly like the aloof department chair and has the sweetest smile. she graciously accepts their compliments with quiet ‘thank you's' and hides her face in her father’s neck and shoulder, causing even more ‘aww’s to fall from his colleagues’ lips. when the attention dies down, zayne finally gets to his office, nearly an hour later than he usually would have by now, but he can’t even be annoyed. his little girl is the most precious; of course, he would react in the same way.

he shuts the door behind them and puts his bag down by his desk, moving zenith so she has a place on his lap when he sits down. “what would you like to do today, hm?” he asks, booting up his computer and finding a pile of files from the depths of a drawer.

“what do you do?” she asks.

he hums. “well sometimes i see patients who don’t feel well, sometimes i do surgeries on them so they feel better, and sometimes i have to do paperwork. i don’t have any patients or surgeries scheduled today, so we can do whatever you want; how does that sound?”

“what about paperwork?” she exclaims. “you said that’s what you do?”

“would you like to do paperwork with me?”

she nods firmly. “i wanna spend time with daddy!”

his heart softens, his already abnormally warm (at least for work standards) gaze growing even more endeared by his precious, favorite little girl. “you want to spend time with me?”

her head bobs and she wraps her arms around his neck, resting her cheek on his shoulder. “of course! i love you, daddy.”

pressing a kiss to her cheek, he can’t help a smile. of course he knows she loves him, loves spending time with him. when he’s home she’s practically glued to his hip. and he tries his best to make sure she knows the same. but sometimes it’s just nice to hear it from someone you love. “and i love you, princess.”

it used to be a foreign expression on his tongue many, many years ago, before you’d returned to his life, and especially before she came into his life. but as time flew by, thanks to you and your help, he’d grown familiar, comfortable, fond with it. while he knew you didn’t mind him not saying that as much as other boyfriends and husbands might from all your conversations, knowing he expressed how much he loved you and then some through other ways, he knew she might not have understood just how her father expressed his feelings and fondness at her young age.

so beyond his quiet actions, he makes sure to tell her. whether it’s a post-it note in her lunchbox, right next to the heart-shaped sandwich with the crusts cut off, just how she likes it, whenever it’s his turn to make her lunch, or a birthday card she’ll know how to read one day, he tries to tell her through words too. ‘i love you’ went from an expression he seldom said or heard, to one he couldn’t get enough of, whether it be from your lips or hers, and one he always wanted you both to know.

“let’s see what kind of paperwork we can find for you, then.” coincidentally a knock sounds from the other side of the door. “come in.”

“they brought some donuts and coloring pages out in the lobby,” yvonne says, popping her head in. “i figured you’d both be interested.”

“thank you, yvonne.” when the door shuts, zayne leans back to look at his daughter, brushing her hair. “what do you think about that? do you want to take a look?” with her eager nods, zayne stands.

“i wanna walk,” she pouts, tugging on his once crisp button-up, and he puts her down accordingly, taking her small fingers in his.

they make their way hand in hand down the corridor, drawing even more endeared coos from the staff until they reach the table. kneeling down to her height, he points at a smaller kids table in the corner.

“how about you get some coloring sheets and crayons? i can get you a donut and we can head back and do some paperwork,” he explains.

she happily obliges, skipping over and inspecting the books with a familiar seriousness (which also makes the other staff coddle her just as much as her bright smiles. “aren’t you so precious!?” “she’s just like her father!” zayne can’t help the small quirk of his lips when he hears how cute they find his daughter, because she is, speaking from his personal experience.). meanwhile he grabs a strawberry donut with sprinkles and a chocolate one, both her favorites, placing them on a napkin and grabbing a few extra knowing how she takes after you in terms of her messiness.

meeting her in the corner, he bends down, taking a quick look at the drawings she’s taken. “find anything you like?” he asks.

raising her pages to his eyes, she beams. “they have the bears!”

he smiles softly, tucking her loose hair away. “yes, they do,” he hums. “who knew?”

it totally wasn’t like he’d ordered specific character coloring books when it was time for the cardiology department to refill their kids’ activity section. it totally wasn’t like he’d looked for some ones he knew his daughter would love. it wasn’t like that at all; zayne maintains he’s as impassive and serious at work as ever…he’s lying to himself.

when she gathers her crayons, the duo make their way back to his office. the day flies quickly by, her babbles and light, curious questions bringing a new level of comfort and joy zayne never thought he’d get from his job. he loves what he does, of course, but everything just seems more enjoyable and memorable with his daughter by his side. or rather, with her on his lap, in her own little world of just her and her beloved dad, oblivious to the seriousness of the paperwork her father is dealing with as she busies herself with her own “paperwork” and scribbles vibrant colors all over the once black and white image.

and zayne thinks he would be perfectly content if it were to stay like this forever. even with all his prizes and awards, nothing could compare to the reward and title of being your husband and zenith’s father.

he lowers his pen to the desk from his fingers, using his free hand to rest his head as he admires the precious life before him. “i love you, princess,” he murmurs, pinching her cheek.

“i love you too, daddy!” she turns to face him, crumbs of donut glaze still around her lips.

he takes a napkin and dabs at her face before checking his watch. you’d said you’d meet them around now… “how about we get lunch soon?”

right on time, a knock sounds from the door, which opens to reveal you. “how are my favorite doctors doing?” you exclaim.

“mama!” she cheers, hopping off zayne’s knee and running into your waiting embrace.

kissing her head, you give her a squeeze. “how’s work with dada going?”

“i love it here! daddy colors and eats dessert all day,” she cheers.

glancing to your husband, you chuckle. “is that so?”

he makes his way towards you both, giving you a peck as you stand, your daughter now on your hip. “something like that,” he mumbles.

“then maybe i should become a doctor too,” you tease. “is now a good time for lunch?”

he nods, opening the office door once more and allowing you to pass first.

“i wanna become a doc-tor, too,” zenith ponders, suddenly serious with her small fingers tapping at her chin as she thinks, a habit no doubt from her father. “then daddy and i can color and eat snacks together forever!”

“is that so?” you ask, but you can’t help the smile you shoot at your husband.

she bobs her head, a determined furrow in her brow. “i wanna be with mama and daddy forever.”

zayne has a warm fondness in his gaze as his eyes find his daughter. she looks up to him with wide eyes and her gummy grin, reaching her small hand out for his own, which he happily obliges. her tiny fist wraps around two of fingers, and he briefly wishes that she could stay his little girl for eternity. she doesn’t need to know how hard her dad’s job actually is, how much work he had to put in to get to where they are now, the sorrows of her parents’ past. she is a precious gem, the shining peak of all your shared lifetimes.

this one existence, finally at peace, a happy ending for you and him, domestic bliss with the two, now three, of you, he thinks it’s worth every tear that’s been shed before. and maybe in another universe and lifetime, the you’ll get another happy ending. he thinks that even if it’s a simple life, as long as it’s with the two of you, it’d be one he cherishes and treasures close to every fiber of his existence, one he would fight all there may be to remember, for no god could tear his devotion. maybe he’d even bet every splintering past life that led to this one was worth the years he’s gotten to spend with you in this one, and the years still to come. so he hopes she stays as optimistic and bright as ever, that you stay by his side in this heavenly life he could only once dream of. after all, ice is made of crystals.

#zayne x reader #zayne x y/n #zayne x you #zayne fluff #zayne love and deepspace #love and deepspace fluff #love and deepspace x reader #love and deepspace #l&ds x reader #mine

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xlpoww · 8 months

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Jealousy, Jealousy

i really loved how bad for business turned out, and it seems you all did too!! so here's a continuation of the bfb universe/storyline :) it's not exactly a part two

warnings! jealousy (sanji's)

word count: 1,720

opla! sanji x f! reader

i actually took the time to reference back to this scene in the live action to make sure i got their orders right :) !! also hi i am alive !!! i just got busy with work- and i had a mini con to go to this weekend and i cosplayed nami! :D -> i have also been struggling with tremendous writers block, and was trying to force myself to write about zoro for days! but i couldn't, and i was frustrated with myself untill i rememebred this isnt a job, this is for fun for me and you guys. so i went back to some of the things i've written and felt like i could continue this one :) the story really flowed from there and i wrote a lot in a short span sooooooo <3 ily all! thanks for reading as always <3333

sanji vinsmoke is jealous.

the cook is used to woman falling at his feet, swooning over his flirty personality. either that or they get annoyed at him and clearly show disinterest. (oftentimes calling him names and sometimes resulting in him getting hit)

but you, the one girl he actually held a candle for, he couldn’t even seem to get a rejection from you. that would’ve made things so much easier for him and his heart. it’s gotten to the point he’s wishing you would tell him you don’t return his feelings. sure it would hurt in the moment, but at least he could have (hopefully) forced himself to move on.

but no, you won’t reject him; nor will you swoon at his advances. they seem to roll right off you like beads of rain on a window. never a hint of blush on your cheeks, no angrily quirked brows. how was he meant to understand? there are two reasonable reactions to such a forward man, either interest or not. how do you manage to toe the line so perfectly?

it drove him mad, not only were you horribly hard to read, every once in a while you would flirt aggressively back at him. it would always catch the poor boy off guard, leaving him stunned and blushing standing wherever he was. oftentimes you did it right in the middle of the kitchen, leaving him to deal with the playful teasing of the other workers, walking off to continue doing your job.

you would be the death of him surely.

especially when the sight of you smiling so sweetly at that stupid swordsman causes a painful squeeze in his chest. his grip on the tray he was holding is bruising, and there’s a jealous rage brewing inside of him.

“hello my name is y/n, and i’ll be your waitress today. can i start you guys with any refreshments?” you flip over a page on your notepad, ready to write down the group's requests. what a charming bunch they were, with just a glance you could tell they really cared for one another.

“i’ll take a beer,” the green haired man speaks up, and you nod with a smile.

“i’ll take two beers, i normally have three but..” he trails off as the woman at the table speaks up.

“i’ll take a water.”

“and a glass of milk!” the endearing boy with a straw hat adds on, his words are muffled by the bun he was still chewing. when coming to greet them you’d brough over a basket of perfectly warmed buns with butter. nodding at them all, your pen into your apron as you repeat back to them.

“three beers, milk and water, coming right up you guys.” you step back with a bow, turning towards the kitchen. doing so you notice your best friend is glaring in your direction, and as you walk back you tilt your head at him. when you get closer you realize his glare wasn't directed towards you, but the swordsman you had taken the order from. he doesn’t even seem to pay you any mind as you approach him, too focused on the table you had just walked away from. when you reach him where he stands in front of the doorway, you snap your fingers in his face. it seems to snap him out of it, and he looks down at you with a charming smile.

“hello my love, what can i do for you?” his hand is placed on your shoulder sweetly. the touch warms your body, but you shake it off to cross your arms.

“what’s up with you, why were you glaring at my table? do you know them?” you gesture back towards your table, and a flush washes over his face when he realizes he’d been caught. he straightens his tie in an attempt to shake off his shame,

“not a clue who they are darling.” your eyebrow raises in suspicion, you’re not buying it. he seems to know you won’t, and he tucks his hand into his pockets as he shrugs.

“you just glare at people you don’t know now sanj?” a pout forms out of frustration. while you were wondering why he was lying to you so blatantly, he was internally swooning at how adorable you looked in that moment, and the sweet way you'd shortend his name. the grip you had over his heart was the strongest in all the seas.

“don’t worry, pretty lady, it’s nothing. now if you’ll excuse me i’ve got my own tables to wait on.” he’s internally scrambling to figure out how to distract you from what he was caught doing, in a moment of boldness (or a crazy attempt to change the subject), he leans down to press a kiss to the side of your head.

the action causes your eyes to almost bulge out of your head as you begin to blush. a smug smile forms on sanji’s face at the sight, he’d never felt more accomplished than he did in that moment. not only had he distracted you, he’d made your face light up all pretty and embarrassed. he winked at you before brushing past you to do his job, pushing open the swinging door into the kitchen behind you.

you’re left in shock trying to wrap your brain around his actions, ‘what had gotten into him?’ as bold and flirtatious as he was, you would have never expected a display like that in front of all the customers.

oh shit, the customers. ‘had anyone seen that? oh gods.’ your hands clench into fists as you attempt to bring yourself back to reality and calm down, and you push past the doors of the kitchen. your eyes are focused on the ground as you collect the drinks needed for your table, placing them all on a tray and balancing them on one hand. you take a moment to breathe in and compose yourself before walking back out into the dining room.

you eyes scan the room and find your favorite blond waiting on a table on the opposite side of the room of your own. his location makes it easy to return to the table without incident, placing down the three beers before the milk and water. with a smile, you tuck the tray under your arm and pull out your notepad again to continue taking their orders. maybe doing your job could distract from the rapid beating in your chest.

“you guys decided on food yet?”

“one of everything!” the boy with a straw hat speaks up, and you quirk your eyebrow. they didn't look like the big spenders you were used too, but it wasn’t really your place to mention that. your smile never slips as you nod, writing it down and once again bowing before you leave. by your luck sanji seems to be waiting for you at the doorway of the kitchen. so much for the idea you had to avoid him until you’d calmed down.

he holds his hand out, offering to take your tray from you. his kind offer brings a smile to your lips, and you decide to shove down whatever inner turmoil was happening and act like what he did hadn’t happened. (he sure was.)

“any interesting orders?” he smiles, quirking a brow at you as you offer him your serving tray. you laugh, holding out your notepad to show him where you had written down ‘one of everything’ sanji’s heart squeezes at how cute your handwriting is, and he can’t help the chuckle. “well it looks like you’ll need some help taking out this order then, love.” the pet name causes the usual skip in your heartbeat, and you smile, nodding in acceptance of his offer for help, pushing past him into the kitchen to get your cooks started on the order of everything.

the food gets taken out in waves, sanji always accompanying you with an extra plate or two. the table is rather nice about it, they’re always caught up in conversation. even still they thank you for every plate you place down, they seem like genuine people. it warms your heart to see such a close group of friends.

you can’t help but notice the way sanji doesn’t even pay the girl at the table any mind, too busy glaring at the green haired man, his hands lingering on your shoulder or back longer than they needed to. how he’d managed to add on to his unusual behavior, you wouldnt understand.

not that he really had any reason to be placing a tender hand on your back while you were serving guests. the third time it happens you turn to look at him with a raised eyebrow, and he turns to smile down at you sweetly, his hand on your back rubbing up and down. you look at him incredulously, sanji steps back, bowing before walking back towards the kitchen. before he left his gaze lingered on the man longer than should have been acceptable. you have to hold back a frustrated huff, turning back to the table with a plastered smile

“don’t hesitate to call me if you need anything! i hope you enjoy your meal.” you finish off the sentence with a bow, turning to look at the swordsman when he speaks up with a snort. “are you sure, wouldn’t want to make your busboy anymore jealous than he already is?” your eyes widen in confusion, not only at the notion, but the unnecessary insult towards your sanji.

“whatever could you mean.” the whole table turns to you, and the redhead quirks a brow at you, adding on.

“you’re not really that clueless, are you?” your mouth drops open, and a blush begins to cover your cheeks.

“no, i didn’t think i was.”

and then you’re even more confused. what reason would he have to be jealous over you and a random guest? it’s not like the man had even given you the time of day, or you’d even wanted it? all you’d done was take his orders.

the thought feels so impossible, even so it has already quickly begun eating away at your brain and heart. it was the only logical explanation for all his odd behaviors tonight.

sanji vinsmoke, was jealous. over you.

taglist: @the-maladaptive-daydreamers @teenyforestfairy @gothicuwusposts @cheesesoda @scentisterror @shuujin @gcldtom

#vinsmoke sanji #sanji fanfiction #sanji fanfic #one piece sanji #sanji #opla!sanji #opla sanji x reader #sanji x reader #jealousy #bad for business #sanji x you #sanji vinsmoke x reader #sanji imagine #sanji live action #sanji vinsmoke #vinsmoke sanji x y/n #sanji x y/n #opla sanji

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halfvalid · 8 months

Text

the blade daughter, pt. 1

ABOUT

pt. 1 | pt. 2 | pt. 3

alternate title: dracule mihawk cures your daddy issues!

rating: mature

characters: live action!roronoa zoro | fem!reader | live action!dracule mihawk | live action!straw hat ensemble

pairing: live action!roronoa zoro x fem!reader

word count: 23.6k total | 8.3k this part

description: as the daughter of dracule mihawk, you've been living alone at home, unwilling to go out and find a life of your own due to the belief that your father needs you around. but when he sends you off to buy him a jacket, you end up running into a pirate crew—and a particular swordsman—that end up changing how you feel.

tags: mihawk's daughter!reader, female reader, canon-typical violence, cursing, no use of 'y/n', pet names per mihawk ('dear', 'darling', 'sweetheart', 'little hawk'), emotional hurt/comfort, sexual harassment (from nameless OC), slow burn

author’s note: finally she's here! i'm posting it spaced out because i don't want to overload you all with a 23.6k fic in one post... IMPORTANT NOTE: i did some research from the animanga for mihawk's personality, weapons, and home, but this is still very much only a fic for OPLA and not the other iterations of the material.

the fic is not exactly only a romance; it focuses a lot on the reader's personal character development along with her relationship with mihawk too. i hope you guys don't mind! i kind of lost the plot lol.

reader is mihawk's biological daughter, but is stated to take after her mother and doesn't bear similarity to mihawk. so the fic is poc reader friendly!

Your dad was late to dinner again.

To be fair, Dracule Mihawk didn’t exactly follow a schedule. He was fickle—back when you’d been a girl, he’d been around all the time, because although he was a lot of things, Mihawk was not an absentee parent. But as you’d grown older, he started being less strict, leaving you alone for days and weeks until you’d finally matured into an adult. Mihawk spent most of his time away from the house, now—but you agreed to have dinner together every week, no matter what part of the ocean he was in.

And he was late.

You’d started cooking the meal early, only for Mihawk to not show up when everything was ready. Or after everything was ready. Or even when everything had cooled, and you’d eaten your fill, and waited in your chair for him to arrive. He finally showed up a quarter past two in the morning, the doors of the dining room bursting open to announce his entrance.

You cracked an eye open from where you’d been dozing in your seat. “You’re late.”

“I’m sorry, darling,” Mihawk said, taking his hat off and bowing with a flourish. He pressed a kiss to the back of your hand. “I got a little busy. Garp had me deal with a pirate in the East Blue.”

You made a face at him as he sat down to eat. “Could’ve at least let me know. Den den mushi exist for a reason.”

“Ah, well, my apologies.” Mihawk sighed, dramatic as ever—you couldn’t find it in you to be mad at him for more than a few minutes, though, something he knew well. “It would’ve gone quickly had some upstart not challenged me to a duel. So I had to spend the night.” He tsked, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “And then I went to visit an old friend. Red-haired Shanks.”

“I remember him.” You got up from your seat, moving to the kitchen to rifle in the icebox for a popsicle. “Another duel? What’s this week’s body count?”

“You know I don’t tally such trifling matters, sweetheart,” Mihawk said. You shrugged, leaning against the doorway of the kitchen to watch him start eating. “This pasta is cold.”

“Wasn’t cold four hours ago,” you said, languidly licking at your popsicle. “No sympathy here, dad.”

“Fine,” Mihawk said. “Anyway, I don’t suppose you’ve ever heard of the man. Tall, green hair, three swords.” He wrinkled his nose. “Said people called him the Demon.”

“Roronoa Zoro,” you affirmed, slipping into the chair beside your father. “Scariest pirate hunter in the East Blue. You killed him?”

“Clearly not much of a pirate hunter, considering he’s a pirate now,” Mihawk said, the scrape of his knife and fork ringing around the room. “Joined the man I Garp sent me after, this little boy in a straw hat. And no. I let him and his crew go.”

You paused, voice faltering as you registered the words. “You let him live?”

“Yes. He was rather interesting. I expect he’ll come find me later,” Mihawk answered. You stared at him, still baffled. Your father was a lot of things, but a man of mercy was not one of them. Your earliest memory of him exacting his power over others was when you’d been two, watching from your crib as he speared the nanny for calling you a brat. A touching gesture, for certain, but still. “But enough about work. How have you been, little hawk?”

“Bored,” you said with a sigh. “It’s so dull on this island.”

Mihawk looked amused. “You could leave. I’m not restricting you here anymore.” Back in your teen years, Mihawk hadn’t let you leave the house—something about enemies wanting to kill his daughter or whatever else nonsense. He’d trained you personally, though, so you were nearly as fearsome as your father—able to beat anyone in combat in the blink of an eye. “You don’t have to stay.”

“The house would get all dusty,” you protested, lips tugging into a line. And it wasn’t like you hadn’t done any exploring. Mihawk had taken you to all four seas throughout your adolescence, and you’d taken vacations to everywhere of importance. You just—didn’t have much of a point to leave, really. You very much preferred not to, something tying you firmly to the island, to your castle. “And besides, where would I even go?”

“I hear the East Blue is interesting this time of year,” Mihawk said. “You could venture around here, but…” He shrugged. “The Grand Line is dangerous.”

You made a face. “I’ve lived here my entire life. I can take care of myself.”

“Certainly,” Mihawk agreed easily. “But it’s simply not worth it. You really should get out more, dear. It’s not good for your health.”

“Maybe,” you said, but you weren’t very enthusiastic about it. “Here, I’ll clean Yoru for you while you finish eating.” You moved around the back of his chair, lifting his sword off the jacket he hadn’t bothered to shed from his back. You grimaced upon seeing a line of dried blood along the blade. “Dad.”

“Sorry, dear,” Mihawk said, and you rolled your eyes, carrying the sword over to the living room. You set Yoru down with a heavy thud, pulling out a box of materials. Mihawk came over to watch you, one arm propped against the doorway as his aureate eyes gazed down as you worked.

Compared to your dad, you looked relatively normal. You’d always taken after your mother—a mysterious woman you barely had any memories of—and the relation between the two of you was never immediately obvious. The fact your eyes were plainly normal instead of bearing the golden hawk eyes Mihawk had was another factor added to that, too.

You pulled out a bottle of oil, pouring it generously over Yoru’s blade before grabbing a cloth to carefully wipe it with. “Where in the East Blue?” you asked abruptly, not looking up. Mihawk’s fork clinked along the ceramic of his bowl, presumably surprised you’d actually consider the offer of leaving.

“Well, I could send you out to run some errands if you wish. I’ve got some things to attend to,” Mihawk optioned. “There’s this one store in Loguetown with a rather nice jacket I’ve had my eye on.”

You shot him a disbelieving look. “You want me to go to the East Blue to buy you a jacket.”

Mihawk shrugged. “My birthday’s coming up.”

“No, it’s not.” You slid your rag along the edge of Yoru’s blade, folding it in half before wiping the entire thing again to ensure there was no grime left. “Finished. Maybe I’ll just stay—”

Mihawk gave you a look.

“Fine. Loguetown it is,” you said with a sigh. “Don’t give me a crew. I’ll just take one of the sloops. I’ll get your dumb jacket for you.” You got up, tossing the cloth over a shoulder to hand wash later. “I’ll leave later today.”

Mihawk clicked his tongue. “You’re so enthusiastic, darling. I can practically see the excitement oozing off of you.”

You rolled your eyes, moving past him to go up to your room. “Short trip,” you said. “No more than a couple of days.”

“The little hawk, so incited to leave the nest.”

“Shut up.”

Mihawk had complied with your wishes, as when you woke up the next morning, he had already prepared a sloop for you to board alone. You packed some of your things, not being too fussy about the clothing or other objects, knowing that the boat was already well-stocked on its own. Mihawk waited to send you off, though you knew he probably had affairs to attend to by now.

“Be good, darling,” he said, while you were loading up the last of your stuff. Just like your father, you preferred to wear your sword on your back; a present he’d given you at the age of thirteen. “I’ll call you. I’ve got business in the South Blue.”

“Have fun,” you said, and he kissed the back of your hand before pushing you off.

Loguetown was just how you’d remembered it, buzzing with civilians and pirates alike. The stores were plentiful, and filled to the brim with customers—it was all a little overwhelming compared to the peace and quiet you were used to. Still, it wasn’t a bad place to stay for a few weeks, and you might as well take your time there.

You slung your coat on as you exited the docks, glancing around the town in search of something to do first. Since you weren’t especially interested in retrieving a jacket for your father just yet, you beelined to the nearest tavern to grab something to eat. It was a lot easier traveling without Mihawk at your side—as much as you loved him, he had the habit of attracting both trouble and fear wherever he went, and he was near impossible to go out with.

The tavern was full, but not too crowded, and you managed to slip over to the bar without much trouble. It seemed to mostly consist of pirates—rough men with flowing jackets and holsters of guns and swords at their hip, clustered together in groupings that clearly proved their alliances with each other. You were one of the only patrons who was alone.

You gestured for the barkeep, and she bustled over from where she was serving a particularly ragtag group of pirates. They were mismatched, colors oddly paired—a girl with neon orange hair, a short man with a straw hat, one wearing a flowery shirt and goggles and the last man dressed in clothes far too formal for a bar. “What can I get for you?” she asked, a thick brogue dragging down her words.

You told her your drink order, still eyeing the group. The barkeep followed your vision and let out a sigh. “Don’t bother. Three men have already tried to capture him for the bounty. Broke half my furniture. And we got a rule here, anyway—no fightin’.”

“Does he have a bounty?” you asked with a frown. She scoffed.

“Does he ever. Thirty million berry, child. Highest in the East Blue.” She shook her head. “That crew won’t let anyone touch ‘im. Hell, I think his first mate’s still outside cleaning up the bodies.” She sighed again. “Well, I’ll have that drink out for you in a moment.”

You nodded, slipping into the closest available chair. Now that you were paying attention, you could see practically every pair of eyes fixed on the group—specifically, on the man in the center wearing the straw hat.

Before you could ask another question, the door to the tavern opened, and a lean, green-haired man filled the doorway. You glanced over at the barkeep, a flash of recognition in your eyes. “That’s Roronoa Zoro.”

“Aye,” she said, setting your drink in front of you. “If there’s someone who might be able to cash in that bounty, it’d be him. But believe it or not, he’s with the Straw Hat.”

You watched as the pirate hunter made his way to the table the others sat at. The glint of his famed three earrings reflected off the tavern lights, and the sword on his hip swayed as he walked—but there was only one rather than the three you’d heard tales about. “Yeah, my father said something of the sort.”

The barkeep hummed, turning to attend to a pirate who’d taken a seat at your left. “And who’s your father, lass?”

“Dracule Mihawk.”

The pirate beside you raised his head, turning towards you in almost alarm. Beside him, his crew quieted, and the barkeep glanced up to meet your eyes. “Dracule Mihawk?” she repeated incredulously.

“He sent me to buy him a coat,” you said. “I don’t suppose you know where any shops are around here?”

“Er, there’s a shop off main you might want to see,” the barkeep said, eyes flickering over to the pirate crew that had changed their focus to you. “Anything else for you, then?”

“I’m good, thanks,” you said, taking another sip of your drink. She nodded, leaving the bar in favor of moving over to another table. The pirate beside you turned slowly, stool scraping against the floor as he sneered down at you.

“Dracule Mihawk’s daughter, eh?” he asked. “Care if I buy you a drink?” Behind him, the rest of his crew tittered. You just sighed.

“Sorry, my father doesn’t let me go out with anyone who hasn’t bested me in combat.” You knocked back the rest of your drink, glancing up and down the pirate’s figure. He didn’t look like much—two pistols strapped to the hip, a longsword on the other, a raggedy leather jacket with a hat to match.

The pirate scoffed. “Please,” he said, though you could see his skin turning rapidly crimson. “I doubt you’re even related to him. No hawk eyes or nothing.”

You met his gaze, lips tightening into a line. “I take after my mother.”

“Biggest lie I ever heard, aye, crew?” The pirate turned back towards the rest of his men, and they cheered in agreement. You huffed out a sigh, trying your very best not to turn combative—despite everything, you were proud of your relationship with your father, and anyone trying to call you a liar for your lineage just left you vexed and angry. Before you could step away, though, the pirate turned towards the rest of the tavern, apparently having had a bit too much liquor. He raised his voice, practically yelling now. “Oi! This girl thinks she’s the daughter of Dracule Mihawk!”

Out of your peripheral vision, you saw Roronoa Zoro look up, the rest of his crew glancing over at you at the words. You were distracted within a second, the pirate shoving your arm. “Hey, don’t look away, girl. I’m trying to—”

You grabbed onto his wrist, nails razor-sharp as they embedded into his skin. “Don’t touch me.”

“Oh, you think you’re tough, do you?” The pirate yanked his hand out of your grip. “Did your daddy teach you how to fight, huh? Think you can beat me?”

“I know I can beat you,” you answered. The pirate reached for his sword, then, fingers tightening around the hilt.

“Alright, let’s make it a bet then. You beat me, I believe your claim about being Mihawk’s daughter.” His lips curled back into an ugly sneer, and you debated stepping out of the conversation and just going off to find that shop for your dad’s coat anyway. Fights like these were never worth getting into, and you really didn’t want to break any more of the barkeep’s furniture after she’d let out her annoyances to you.

Before you could, though, the pirate opened his big mouth once again.

“I beat you, and you go to bed with me.”

You were whipping your sword out before you could even think, red flashing in your vision as you scraped your blade out from the holster on your back. The metal gleamed under the lights, white steel bright as day as you leveled it in your hand. It wasn’t the largest weapon, a perfectly balanced cut-and-thrust spadroon with a golden hilt wrapped in white ribbon. You tightened your grip on the handle.

“I beat you,” you hissed, voice low, “and you’re dead.”

He lunged for you, pulling his sword out in one solid stroke and meeting yours in a loud clang. You shot an apologetic look towards the barkeep, spinning on your back leg and kicking the pirate away. The force caused him to stumble, sword skittering to the side as you shoved it off your blade.

One of his crew members had cocked a gun to your head, and you spun your swords toward him, blade cutting through the metal like it was butter. The rest of the crew stepped back, one or two of them lunging for you. You parried all of their attacks, shoving them to the ground until they stopped trying to fight.

The captain had gotten up, a fierce snarl upon his face as you slammed your blade down towards him. He blocked it with his sword, and then went for various attacks towards your figure—you dodged each one of them, parrying them easily as you moved backwards. At the last one, you used your weight to buck the sword back in his direction, and he stumbled again.

You ducked down, sweeping him off his feet with a well-aimed kick to his shins, and he fell, sword clattering out of reach as he dropped flat on his back. You towered over him, pointing the edge of your blade at his throat.

“You want me to go outside to kill him?” you asked. The barkeep sighed.

“If you don’t mind, lass.”

“Not at all.” You bent over, grabbing firmly onto the pirate’s shirt and yanking him upwards. His crew made a move towards you, but you just shoved your sword in their direction, and they stepped away. You spun your sword’s hilt around in your hand with a flourish, then started dragging the captain out the tavern door.

“No—wait—let me go,” the pirate begged, once you dropped him to the gravel outside and moved your sword to his throat again. “I’m sorry. I didn’t—I didn’t mean it—you’re a pretty girl, that’s all—”

“I don’t date men who can’t beat me in combat,” you said coolly. “Lower your expectations.” With that, you spun your sword again, sliding it back on the holster of your jacket. “I’ll let you live just this once. If you ever make any comments towards a woman again—”

“I get it. I’m sorry,” the man said, scrambling to his feet. You just eyed him.

“I need another drink.”

The tavern was dead silent when you returned to your seat, gingerly sitting back down on the stool you’d first occupied. “Another drink, if you don’t mind,” you said to the barkeep, and she nodded. A moment passed as she filled your mug, and then she asked—

“Is Dracule Mihawk really your father?”

“Unfortunately,” you muttered, taking the drink she offered and taking a swig. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see the Straw Hat pirate and his crew muttering amongst themselves. One of them nudged Roronoa Zoro in the side, and he grimaced, the loose shirt he wore parting with the motion. You caught a glimpse of bandages, wound tight with blood seeping through a familiar line. Yoru’s doing.

Zoro stood up, making his way over to the bar beside you. He propped his elbows on the table, but he didn’t sit, nodding at the barkeep. “Another round for my friends,” he said. His voice was quieter than you’d expected; a low mutter and almost soft in timbre. He glanced over at you, eyes flickering down and up again before he spoke. “I tried to kill your father.”

“Yeah, he told me,” you said. “Roronoa Zoro. What happened to your other two swords?”

Zoro scoffed. “Your dad.”

“He can be a little dramatic sometimes,” you said apologetically. He glanced over you again.

“You don’t look much like him.” He paused. “Figured I’d know if Mihawk had a daughter.”

“I take after my mother, and he’s very overprotective,” you said, getting just the slightest bit annoyed about everyone questioning your parentage. The barkeep returned then, sliding five beers across the table over to Zoro, and you stood up. “Now if you’d excuse me, I have some shopping to do.”

You exited the tavern after paying your tab, wandering around the streets of Loguetown to find the closest clothing store. Your father’s style was ridiculously grand, so it’d be something in the nicer branch of the city—you had just entered your best guess when you pulled out a shell phone, pushing the little snail into your ear and calling your father’s number.

He picked up on the first ring. “What is it, darling?”

“Did you have a specific coat in mind?” You glanced through a row of black leather, trying to find one that’d match Mihawk’s liking. “I’m at this place called Lady Tide’s Dressing Boutique. It’s the bougiest place I could find.”

“Lady Tide’s would be correct,” Mihawk said. “I trust your taste. Pick something I’d like.”

“You better be paying me back for this,” you threatened, turning the corner as you spoke. You jumped back in surprise, letting out a squeak as the Straw Hat pirate from before appeared right in front of you, a grin stretching up his face.

Mihawk’s laugh crackled through the line at your surprise. “Get startled, dear?”

“The pirate Garp sent you after is stalking me,” you deadpanned. The Straw Hat pirate’s grin only widened. “I’ll call you back.”

You hung up, taking the den den mushi out of your ear and back into its case. “What?”

“You’re a really good fighter,” the Straw Hat said brightly. “I’m Monkey D. Luffy, and I’m going to be King of the Pirates. You should think about joining my crew!”

“I—” you stared at him in disbelief, mind reeling from the whiplash of his words. “Thanks for the offer, but I’m not a pirate.”

Luffy tilted his head to the side in question. “But your dad is Mihawk.”

“That doesn’t make me a pirate. I just stay at home for the most part,” you said. Luffy continued following you around the store, however, even as you stepped past him to browse more jackets. You glimpsed the rest of his crew hanging around the store, though none seemed to do any actual shopping. You figured Lady Tide’s was probably out of their price range. “Why are you still following me?”

“I think you should join my crew,” Luffy repeated. “Have you ever been to the Grand Line? That’s where we’re headed next.”

You gave him a look. “I live in the Grand Line.”

“Whoa,” Luffy breathed. “Well, you must know all about it, then!”

You turned away from him, picking a jacket off the rack in front of you and appraising it. Golden buttons, long tailcoat, wide lapels—not really Mihawk’s taste. You set it back. “Not really,” you finally answered. “Like I said, I stay at home for the most part. Haven’t done much exploring.”

“Don’t you want to?” Luffy asked, taking a step closer to you. You flinched. “Your dad’s one of the Seven Warlords of the Sea! You should be going out and adventuring, not just staying at home and doing whatever Mihawk tells you to!”

“Don’t,” you snapped, voice low. “I stay home because I want to. Not because my dad forces me to.” Your words bore no lie, but still, there was a rumble of uncertainty deep in your gut. Mihawk had always been supportive, but pirating had always been his thing. You preferred the solace of your own home, and there was no point in adventuring when Mihawk had seen it all before.

“I’m just saying, what do you even do all day?” Luffy asked with a quirk of the lip. “Stay home and clean? Go out once in a while to buy groceries or get stuff for your dad?” He gestured at the coat you were holding, and you flushed, shoving it back onto the rack. “Isn’t it boring? Don’t you want more than such an average life?”

“I’m perfectly happy with my life right now, thank you,” you snapped. “Go preach to someone else.”

Luffy had stopped walking, then, looking at you with an almost sympathetic expression on his face. “Living isn’t the same as thriving, you know,” he said. “You should go out. Find adventure. Aren’t there things you want to know? Questions you want answered?”

“Luffy.” You turned to see Roronoa Zoro move to his captain’s side, head dipping as he spoke to him. His tone was quiet, but you could still overhear— “Leave her alone. We’ve got business.”

Luffy looked dejected at that, but he agreed, bowing his head towards you before turning to the rest of his crew. They’d gathered by the mouth of the store, engaged in their own various activities as they waited. You watched Luffy turn to leave, words climbing up your throat even as you tried to swallow them down. “Wait!”

Luffy turned, that bright smile reappearing on his face. “What?”

“I want to know one thing,” you said, taking a step closer to the captain and his first mate. You glanced up at Zoro, who met your gaze. His face seemed carved of steel, skin bearing no grimace, eyes betraying nothing. “Why did my father let you live?”

Zoro looked away, and you realized he probably didn’t know the answer himself. Before you could speak again, though, Luffy interrupted.

“Because Zoro’s the best,” he declared, capturing your attention away from the injured swordsman. He slapped Zoro’s bicep with a heavy thud, and you were surprised when the other man didn’t even flinch. “And he’s gonna be better than Mihawk one day. He’s going to defeat him in a duel and take his title and become—”

“The world’s greatest swordsman,” Zoro finished. The words were muttered under his breath, clearly to himself rather than intending for you to hear.

You watched them for a moment before finally turning away. “Okay,” you said. “Good luck with that.”

Luffy stared at you for a moment longer, but Zoro was already turning away and walking towards the rest of the crew. There was an unsettling feeling in your gut, one you tried to squash. Whatever—you had better things to do than worry about some Straw Hat pirate and a retired pirate hunter.

You returned to your browsing, looking through various jacket designs until you finally fell across one you were certain your father liked. It was ridiculously expensive, but your father’s taste had always been so—you purchased it without a second thought, slinging it across a shoulder and returning to your sloop for the rest of the day.

To your great disappointment, the Straw Hat pirate’s words continued to echo throughout your head. His demeanor was off-putting, to say the least—the extreme amounts of candor and cheeriness he had made for a disorienting combination. Even as you tried to stop thinking about his terrifyingly honest words, you couldn’t. Don’t you want more than such an average life?

You sighed, mood irritable from the day's events. You’d returned to your sloop and hadn’t done much of anything for a few hours—past having a meal and cleaning up your boat, there was nothing to do. You mulled over your options, wondering if you shouldn’t just start the journey back home. But Luffy’s words came back to you.

“I need a drink,” you muttered, donning your coat and leaving to attend the first bar you could find.

You went someplace ritzy this time, near the peak of Loguetown where neon lights glimmered in the dark hour. It was crowded, and music blasted through the bar, pounding bass nearly making the floor reverberate. You slipped inside without much trouble, squeezing through the crowd and making way for the bar at the other end of the room.

You bought yourself a drink, knocking it back in just a few gulps. There were marines patrolling around in the building, although none of them seemed too keen on completing any of their duties. Pirates walked around freely too, but these ones were more dignified than the ones you’d seen in the tavern at town.

“You hear Straw Hat Luffy’s here at Loguetown right now?” someone muttered to your right. You glanced over with a furtive gaze to see who was speaking—two men, dressed in fine silks and coats. Swords dangled from their hips. Pirates, maybe, or pirate hunters. “His ship’s docked over by south port.”

“You’re not going to try and nab him, are you?” the other pirate hunter asked, fingers pinched around a thin glass of something. “That bounty’s hefty, but fighting them’ll be…”

“I’m getting a bunch of hunters together,” the first one said. “We’ll split the bounty. At midnight, once the whole crew’s asleep. I followed the navigator; seems they’re not leaving until the morning.”

“Thirty million split between many isn’t much.”

“Well.” The hunter made a vague gesture, a smirk playing at his lips. “I doubt we’ll all be alive by the end of the night, if you know what I mean.”

“Right.” The second hunter downed the rest of his drink. “I’ll be there. Where’s the rendezvous point?”

“Slip forty at south port. Come at midnight,” the first one replied. “My boat. Theirs is at fifty-two.”

You turned away, knocking back the last of your drink before setting the glass back down on the counter. Your mind reeled, and you pulled out a pocket watch to check the time. Nearly eleven. Only an hour left.

“Another drink,” you called, but you stopped after that one. Logically, you knew the Straw Hat crew would be able to handle themselves. Your father wouldn’t have let Zoro go had he not been an impressive fighter—and Luffy certainly had to have some tricks up his sleeve, having such a high bounty and all. But an ambush was an ambush.

You needed to go home.

You paid your bill and slunk outside, taking the long road down to the port. You were docked in the east, but you found yourself wandering towards south port, hands shoved in your pockets and sword heavy on your back.

There was no logical reason to get involved with pirates, you tried to tell yourself. That was Dracule Mihawk’s area of expertise. That was Dracule Mihawk’s life. Not his daughter’s. You were not a pirate—there was no point in being one. Mihawk has done everything already.

You stepped onto the pier of south port, the wooden ramp trembling under your feet. They were shoddily constructed; oak on water, with pegs every few feet or so and ropes thrown casually across the walkways. It was overcrowded with boats, too—ships of every kind and size, smushed into spots not big enough for them depending on how much you paid the dock men. The moon shimmered on the surface of the East Blue. She was calm today, waves lapping at the edges of the docks, tranquil in the night.

You checked your watch again. Nearly midnight.

Dock forty moored a relatively small ship, but it was crowded with men—ten or fifteen, maybe, and you knew they’d be killing each other when the fight was through. Thirty million berry divided between so many people was barely worth it. You slunk past them, counting the numbers of the boat berths.

You knew the boat before you looked at the slip number based on appearance alone. It was large in size, a caravel sporting a gigantic goat figurehead. You stared at it, brows furrowed, jaw slack. Well, it was certainly a ship. There was a large sail boasting the ship’s jolly roger—a crudely designed skull and crossbones sporting the same straw hat their captain wore.

With a sigh, you pulled yourself onboard, careful to not make a sound as you landed on the deck. It was quiet, but you doubted the crew didn’t have at least one lookout for trouble. You tiptoed around the mast, moving towards the foredeck.

You were just about to step a foot on the staircase when a gleaming katana came to your throat.

“What are you doing here?”

Roronoa Zoro was as calm as ever as he held a blade to your jugular, posture perfectly straight, eyes tilted in your direction. You glanced down at the blade, registering the smooth metal. It was the white-handled one; upon seeing it closer, you could better register its quality. It must’ve been insanely durable, more so than his other blades considering Yoru hadn’t shattered this one in battle—one of the strongest blades in the world.

“What’s the sword’s name?” you asked.

Zoro ignored your question. “What are you doing here?” he repeated.

You sighed, turning towards him, although you were careful not to touch the sword. Zoro’s grip didn’t budge. “There are pirate hunters coming here,” you answered. “At midnight. An ambush.”

Zoro still didn’t move. The night sky cast his entire face in shadow, the only light on board being a trembling lantern by the interior doors. You could just barely see the gleam of one eye, yellow light shining on his cheekbone. “Why would you come?”

“Honestly, I don’t know,” you answered coolly. “My father let you go for a reason. It’d be a shame if you died before you realized why.” It was an easy lie—because the real reason was one you didn’t want to think about. Because Luffy’s words struck something in you. Because they rang true.

“We don’t need your protection.”

You shrugged, only one shoulder moving upwards before relaxing again. “Just a friendly warning.”

Carefully, Zoro lowered his blade, the steel scraping along the edge of its scabbard opening before he slid it closed. “The Wado Ichimonji.”

Your eyes were still on the sheathed katana. “Hm?”

“The sword. Its name is Wado Ichimonji.”

You tilted your head back, angling it towards the sword strapped to your jacket. “Hiru,” you said. “That’s mine.”

“Day,” Zoro translated. “You have matching swords with your father?”

“Just matching names,” you answered. “It’s a spadroon, not a kreigsmesser. Much smaller than Yoru. Birthday present. When I was thirteen.”

Zoro eyed you. “I’ll wake the rest of the crew,” he said. “You can go.”

You made no move to, consulting your watch as Zoro rang the ship’s bell. Five minutes to midnight. You could already hear the near-noiseless patter of footsteps on the pier.

The orange-haired woman was the first out, fingers wrapped around a short wooden rod. She exchanged a look with Zoro, and he nodded towards the pier. She somehow knew exactly what he meant from that, dodging back inside the ship and returning, dragging a dark-haired man out.

“Uh, what’s going on?” the man asked, stifling a yawn as he fiddled with a slingshot. Both Zoro and the woman shushed him. “Jeez, okay.” He noticed you then. “Oh, hey, you’re the hawk dude’s kid—”

“Shut up, Usopp,” the woman snapped. She’d moved by the boat’s side, ducked under the rim. The footsteps were getting louder.

The blond man came out next, hands shoved casually in his pockets and dressed in clothes you genuinely did not think functioned as sleepwear. “Hunters,” the orange-haired woman said. “Ambush.”

“Isn’t that lovely,” the blond man murmured. He caught your eye, and a smile lit up his face. “Well, hello there.”

Both Zoro and the woman rolled their eyes. Before the blond could say anything more, though, the hunters’ footsteps abruptly stopped.

The orange-haired woman spun up from her crouch, wooden stick extending into a long staff as she whipped it out. She slammed one end of the staff into an incoming hunter’s gut as he leapt aboard the ship, forcing him off the side of the vessel.

Everything happened all at once, then—you heard the slick shing! of Zoro unsheathing his katana, and the blond was up and running towards another gaggle of hunters within the second, legs flying in an assortment of well-placed kicks.

You reached over your shoulder, tugging Hiru out of its straps. The blade shone bright under the moonlight, and you caught an incoming hunter’s sword with the lick of it, shoving him backwards as you spun.

“Why’s Mihawk’s girl here?” the blond called, as he slid across the deck, leg raising up into a spinning hook. “Not that I’m complaining, of course. Pleased to make your acquaintance.” He met your eyes and winked, leaving you staring in utter disbelief until another hunter distracted you. “I’m Sanji!”

“Okay?” you asked blankly, letting out a huff of exertion as you whipped your sword toward the hunter. He’d pulled out one of his guns, wielding his blade one-handed as he fumbled with the trigger. You breathed in, recalling your father’s words from the thousands of hours spent training. Take advantage of any imbalances, sweetheart. Focus on the center of gravity.

You aimed a sliding kick at the man’s gun, using Hiru to push against his blade. The pressure caused him to fling halfway across the ship, body thudding against the mast before falling to the ground in a heap.

“Impressive,” Sanji whistled from his spot across the ship.

“Shut up,” Zoro and the orange-haired woman said in unison. Zoro was beside the fallen hunter in a second, katana slashing cleanly through his torso before he spun and shoved the blade straight into an incoming man’s stomach. Sanji just scoffed.

“Show-off,” he said accusatively. Zoro rolled his eyes, turning towards Sanji to argue, when you glimpsed someone at his back. You lunged for the man, sword cutting cleanly through his jugular before he fell across the deck, decollated.

Zoro turned, glancing over his shoulder at the body and then up at you. “You’re welcome,” you said, flicking Hiru to the side. Spatters of blood dripped off its blade.

“...Right.” The number of hunters had considerably thinned, only three or four left. The orange-haired woman was still fighting two of them, placing hits of her bo staff along two mens’ skulls. Usopp had crouched by the forecastle, firing pellets off with his slingshot. Sanji dusted off the final two men, until only the ringleader was left.

“Wait, wait.” The hunter backed away until he ran into the ship’s railing. He scrambled for his pistol, but as Zoro, Sanji, and the orange-haired woman advanced on him, apparently realized the idea was in vain. “We—we can talk about this.”

“I don’t think we can.” You turned at the new voice, watching as Luffy slipped out from the captain’s chambers. His hand came up to adjust his hat, crowned atop his head as always. “You came aboard my ship and tried to hurt my friends.”

The hunter’s jaw fell slack, mouth drying over as Luffy came to stand in front of him. The rest of the crew had parted to allow him space, and Luffy titled his head up, the lick of light from the lantern shining against his skin. A crescent-shaped scar under his eye glowed bright, the skin paler than the rest of his face.

“Gum gum…” he started, voice steadily rising in volume as he extended his hand backwards, fingers curled into a fist. To your surprise, his arm just kept stretching back, limb getting longer and longer with a distinctly rubbery stretch until it was all the way at the other side of the ship. “Pistol!”

His arm snapped back all in one, knocking the hunter straight in the jaw and shoving him off the ship in one, devastating blow. You stared at his flailing body, watching as he dropped straight into the ocean ten or so meters away with a loud plop.

You turned towards Luffy, one brow arched in question. “You’re a Devil Fruit eater?”

“The Gum Gum fruit,” Luffy said brightly. He adjusted his hat once more, fixing it atop his head before reaching an arm out to pat you on the shoulder. “Thank you for warning us. You’re a good person.”

“Don’t mention it.” You glanced down at Hiru. “Have anything I can clean my blade with?”

“Sure! Let Sanji cook you something while you’re here,” Luffy said. “It’s the least we can do.”

“Of course,” Sanji said with a little bow. “What would you like? Name anything and I’ll make it.”

You eyed him. “…Anything.”

Sanji let out an exaggerated sigh. “So uninspired. Meet you in the kitchen, then. We can leave the mosshead to clean up the bodies.”

The orange-haired woman just rolled her eyes. “I’m going back to bed,” she declared. She glanced over at you, appraising you in one solid sweep up and down your body. “I’m Nami.”

With that final word, she departed, snapping closed her staff and slipping back into the boat. Luffy, Usopp, and Sanji shuffled into the boat, presumably the kitchen. Zoro just sighed, setting his katana to the side to start cleaning up the corpses left after the battle.

You made no move to follow the others inside, watching as Zoro easily lifted up one of the hunters. The lines of his biceps strained as he climbed off the ship, still hefting the body before finally placing it down on the pier.

“Just toss them into the ocean,” you called. Zoro glanced over his shoulder, registering you standing there. He picked another body up.

“I don’t want to block our slip,” he answered.

“Fair enough. Any oil around here?” You wandered to the ship’s side, glancing through the boxes fixed to the deck. Zoro gestured in some direction that harmed more than it helped, really, but you dug through some boxes before unearthing something you could clean Hiru with.

You worked in silence, slicking the blade with the oil and rubbing off all the blood and mess that had gotten onto it. Zoro was quick, piling up all the corpses and barely-alive bodies by the dock. He shoved a few of them awake with his boot. “Go find a doctor,” you heard him mutter under his breath. You suppressed a laugh.

Eventually, Zoro climbed back on board, searching for his sword only to find it in your hands. You carefully polished off the last of the blade, then presented it to him. “You’re welcome.”

“…Thanks,” Zoro said, sheathing it in one smooth swipe.

“The cut,” you said, glancing down at his torso again. His shirt was covering the bandages, but you knew they were still there. “It was Yoru that did it. Not Kogatana.”

“The big one, yeah,” Zoro answered. You watched him thoughtfully, although you didn’t say a word. He seemed to get impatient by that, and was speaking just a moment afterwards— “Why?”

You gave a quick shake of your head. “Nothing,” you answered, the lie slipping easily off your tongue. But your mind churned with thoughts, the mere brain activity making your stomach curdle. It hadn’t clicked before, but now—your father didn’t use Yoru on anyone who wasn’t worthy. And letting Zoro live—letting the entire crew go, against Garp’s orders?

This was a more interesting group than you’d anticipated.

Zoro eyed you for a moment as you were lost in thought, though he didn’t say anything to interrupt you. Once you finally looked up, he adjusted, clearing his throat. “Should go inside to make sure the waiter isn’t burning down the kitchen,” he said, straightening.

You stood up, sliding Hiru into its scabbard on your back. “The… waiter?”

Zoro shook his head. “Long story.” He gestured with his head, nodding towards the double doors. “Kitchen.”

You followed him, the soft aroma of garlic and meat wafting around the room the instant you stepped foot inside. Everyone was crowded around the kitchen island, propped on chairs and staring as Sanji prepared a meal before them. You joined the group, glancing over Usopp’s shoulder to watch.

There was a stir-fry on the stove, garlic and onions joined by various other vegetables. Sanji drizzled soy sauce along the pan, scraping it around once with his spatula before turning down the heat. He added in some rice—leftover, it looked—along with some battered eggs, mixing it all together.

“Vegetable and chicken fried rice,” Sanji said, turning off the heat once everything had cooked through and starting to distribute it into servings. “I went for something universal because I don’t know what you like.” He met your eyes, flashing a giant, warm smile again. You took the bowl he offered, fingers wrapping around the warm ceramic.

“Thank you,” you said. The four of you stood in silence, and you had the feeling that you were intruding. The crew was a tight unit, that much was certain—wound tightly around each other, ropes intersecting in delicate knots and bows. You turned your attention to your meal. You hadn’t had a real supper, so the food was a welcome surprise, and it was damn near close to the best thing you’d ever tasted.

“So,” Luffy started, “Not to bug you about it a hundred times, but…” You glanced up. His expression was earnest as he met your eyes, lips tugged upwards in an encouraging smile even as he spoke. “Are you joining us?”

“Am I—? Oh,” you said, realizing what it was Luffy was referring to. “Is the offer still standing?”

“Always,” he answered brightly. “You’d be a good fit for our crew, you know.”

Would you really? There wasn’t much of anything special about you besides your parentage. You were as skilled a swordswoman as any, but there were hundreds better and stronger than you. There was no one thing you truly excelled at. “I’ll think about it,” you said hesitantly.

“Well, think quick. We leave at dawn,” Luffy said. “Meet us back here at blue hour if you’d like to join up.” He smiled again, all unassuming, and it was hard to believe a boy so pleasant had a thirty million berry bounty hanging suspended over his head. He yawned, stretching out his long limbs. “Well, I’m off to sleep. Sanji’s next watch.” He glanced over at Zoro. “Why don’t you walk her back to her slip, Zoro?”

Your brows furrowed, about to object, but Zoro was already standing up. He opted to say nothing, leaving you to set down your empty bowl and say your goodbyes in a hurry to follow him out.

The bodies on the pier had thinned, the alive ones presumably having dragged themselves to town to find a doctor. Zoro stepped over the heap of corpses, and you followed suit, walking in silence down south port. “I’m a little far,” you said. “You might lose your way heading back.”

“I’ll be fine,” Zoro dismissed. “I’m… sorry about Luffy. He can get overly enthusiastic.”

“Oh, it’s fine,” you said with a shake of your head. “Are the rest of the crew open to me joining, though? It didn’t seem like he consulted any of you.”

Zoro’s brows lifted at that, though you weren’t certain why. “We’re all fine with it,” he said eventually. “Luffy wouldn’t invite someone who wouldn’t fit.” He hesitated, the plod of your footsteps creaking against the dock walkway for a few paces before he parted his lips again. “I’m going to fight Mihawk again, you know.”

“I figured,” you answered. You could feel Zoro’s eyes on you, scraping along your skin like they were blades themselves.

“You’re not upset by that?”

“Everyone wants to kill him for some reason or another,” you said. “You’re not the first.” Though there was something undeniably special about him. The fact he was still alive, for one. “I figure you’re a long way from that, so I’ll have a father for a few years more until you try to kill him again.”

There was something in the way you phrased your words that sounded so very ironic, and Zoro couldn’t suppress the light grunt from escaping his lips. It was dry, brittle—but closer to a laugh than a scoff, you could tell. “Is that your blessing?”

“Sure,” you said. “I, Dracule Mihawk’s daughter, hereby allow you, Roronoa Zoro, to murder my father in a duel.” The lightness in your tone dropped. “If you don’t mind me asking…” you took in a light breath, letting the taste of the words melt on your tongue before slipping them out. “Why do you want to, anyway? Defeat him, I mean?”

“I made a promise to someone a long time ago,” Zoro answered. His footsteps slowed as you reached your slip, the small sloop you’d sailed all the way to Loguetown calm as ever where it was moored. The black sails—vague, nondescript—sucked away all the light the moon attempted to cast on it, so it was even darker than the rest of the surroundings. “I told her I would become the world’s greatest swordsman.”

“That’s heavy,” you remarked, turning to face your companion. His skin was waxy and dull under the moonlight—aftereffects of the injury he still hadn’t fully recovered from. Zoro just shrugged.

“Maybe. It’s my life’s dream.”

“He’s a good father,” you said. “I think he’d like you.” You paused. “Well, he does. He wouldn’t have let you live if he didn’t.”

Zoro stiffened, the lines of his body tightening, spine pulling up just slightly. You noticed the change—you always did. Observation had always been one of your biggest strengths. Maybe you hadn’t gotten the golden irises your father had, but you had hawk eyes of your own in that way. Never missing a thing, picking out all flaws and details in a scene. “I’m not sure if I want him to like me.”

“He doesn’t feel hatred for a lot of people,” you said. “Just disdain. Though I’m fairly certain he’d have skewered that drunk at the bar earlier if he’d been with me.”

“The one who—” Zoro looked distinctly uncomfortable as he remembered what the pirate had offered you. He made a vague gesture instead, just mildly vulgar in motion. You suppressed a laugh.

“Exactly,” you agreed. “He doesn’t have patience for that sort of thing. He also feels no man who’s weaker than me in combat isn’t man enough to be with me, though I have questions about that particular rule.”

Zoro snorted. “You could definitely do better than the drunk pirate.”

“Right.” You glanced up at the moon, watching the steady silver glow of her face along the edge of the horizon. She was full, round and white, soft powder creasing the dents and shadows of her face. “I’m out for the night, then. Thank you for walking me.”

Zoro shrugged. He didn’t say anything, so you turned away, stepping onto your sloop without another word. You ducked into the interior room, closing the door firmly behind you so you could finally relax.

You had only a handful of hours of rest ahead of you, after all.

pt. 1 | pt. 2 | pt. 3

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thesuperiorrobin · 7 months

Text

Bruce told him countless times.

It’s dangerous to get close to a civilian as a hero. But when does Damian Wayne ever listen to his father? But he retreats it. He should have listened to him this one time, however. When the news broke out that a certain girl was taken in broad daylight on her way home from school, He knew. It was a gut feeling. A horrible feeling that ate him away.

You two have been caught countless times—with headlines booming on the news about the secret girl Robin has been seen with. The good thing is no one has gotten a good clear picture of your face.

Until now that is.

Damian doesn’t know how they found out about you—much less figure out the specific route you take home. It takes him two days to find out where you are. With no help.

He wanted to find you and bring you back home safely.

To your family and back to him.

The men that belonged to Joker weren’t bright, but they were kind enough to keep you fed at least. They wanted you alive to be used as bait to capture Robin. You kept your distance from them, tried to at least. When they asked you about his identity you kept your mouth shut. For one reason being that you don’t know his identity. They never believed you. It was always the same for two days straight. They’ll get angry and take it out on you if you said nothing—hopping that the constant abuse would lead you to blurt it out.

At the end of the second day, you’re curled away in the corner. Knees pulled to your chest, head down trying to hide away. You were scared that they were going to kill you if you didn’t fuss up, fearing that you’d die for something you never knew. You could hear heavy footsteps—the sound made your heart drop every time and when the door slammed open, you couldn’t help but let out a yelp, scooting closer to the wall hoping it’ll suck you up as you covered your face.

Someone grabs ahold of your wrist—as a reflex you try to get away from their hold. Thrashing and pulling, But they’re much stronger than you are.

“Let go!” You shout “I already told you I don’t know who he is! Please I’m telling the truth!”

“Hey—y/n—Hey!” Your ears seem to block out the person who calls out your name as you keep fighting until the person grasps ahold of your forearms—shanking you roughly to get you out of the trance. They bring their hand up and you flinch back.

“Y/n, It’s me! Please you need to calm down” You are taken aback by the sudden familiar voice and you finally open your eyes as you look up. Green, red, and yellow fill your vision—and green eyes stare back at yours. You recognize them.

You recognize him.

Damian stands before you with his mask stripped off his face and a worried look painted on his features. Your breathing is heavy “Dam……Damian?”

He nods, gloved hand bringing itself up towards your face gently as he brushes strands of hair out of your face to get a better look. Clothes torn, hair messy, dirt and specks of dried blood cover your body as well as faint bruises that he could see. It makes him angry, but his priority is you right now. Bruce is dealing with the idiots who took you.

“It’s me. Yes—are-are you alright?”

You don’t answer—instead, you throw yourself in his arms—wrapping your arms around his shoulders as you clutch his cape. Damian doesn’t hesitate as he wraps his arms around your waist securely, soothing you as he gently rubs up and down your back. Like how a parent would soothe their crying child at night. He can feel you shaking in his arms and sobs that escape past your lips break his heart, all he can do is stay quiet and hold you.

“It’s alright, I got you. You’re safe now”

#damian al ghul #damian wayne #damian wayne x reader #damian al ghul x reader #damian x reader #robin x reader #damian scenarios #damian wayne x female reader #damian wayne fanfiction

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thisblogisaboutabook · 2 months

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Rainy Season - Part 5

I Want Crazy

Azriel Eris x Reader

After a promotion to an emissary position by a meddling Tarquin, Y/N and Eris get much, much closer.

A/n: There will likely only be a couple more chapters of this fic. For those of you concerned by the previous chapter, please continue to trust the process. Our girl is intelligent.

Part 4 Part 6

Warnings: Language, brief mention of fertility struggles

Our first date, the seasons changed. It got washed away in a summer rain

He wasn’t what I expected, Eris Vanserra. Not that I ever fathomed what to expect or even considered it. In fact there was only a very short list of things I knew prior to the day we met:

-He was a High Lord.

-He’d been a secretive ally of the Night Court prior to his father’s demise.

-Azriel fucking hated him.

And after that day I knew everything I needed to:

-He was warm beyond the fire in his veins

-He was a just ruler

-He had a dry wit that sat well with my soul.

-I wanted to see him again.

After dancing that night, we ran back to Tarquin’s palace in the rain. It was the first time I’d been unable to contain my joy in far too long. I laughed, and skipped, and spun in circles the whole way back. Eris grumbled the entire way but I could see the amusement lit in his eyes. The next morning he met me for breakfast and found me again before he left for the Autumn Court.

He began finding reasons to visit the Summer Court more frequently and sought me out every time. It was no time before Eris became a close friend.

Tarquin - ever the cheeky, wonderful bastard - only gave me knowing smiles when he’d catch us walking the palace grounds. According to Cresseida, The High Lord of the Summer Court was quite the romantic and had a knack for playing matchmaker. I was inclined to agree considering that after a month of spotting Eris and I around the grounds, Tarquin made a proposition to me. I could still teach my classes but he needed a temporary emissary to the Autumn court as they negotiated border, trade, and tariff agreements. Given my recent closeness with the High Lord of Autumn and overall wonderful (debatable) disposition, he found me to be the perfect candidate. With that, I found myself on official court business in the Autumn Court.

Who cares if you’re all I think about?

I was nervous on the first visit to Autumn. I knew things were different under Eris’ reign but the stories of Beron’s cruelty within his own keep were enough to warrant a bit of caution.

My worries were quickly cast aside when Eris personally escorted me from the border and to his keep. The Autumn Court was stunning. The leaves on the trees were brighter than I’d ever seen. The hues ranging from gold to red absolutely stunning. I’d love to have Feyre one day paint it for me.

Smells of roasting chestnuts, hickory smoke, crisp leaves, apple cider, and autumn air filled my nose. On the way, Eris stopped by a small farm where the owner allowed us to pick what Eris called the finest Honeycrisp apples in all of Prythian. I’d never had that variety before and though I had nothing to compare them against, the apples had the perfect crunch and just the right ratio of tart and sweet. He paid the farmer handsomely for a bucket of them and several pie pumpkins for his kitchens.

The Autumn Keep was far from the drab stone castle that I’d pictured. Eris clearly went to great strides to ensure the ghost of Beron Vanserra had no hold here. The grand rooms were filled with maple accents, rugs and tapestries with hues greens, golds, oranges and reds. Fires roared in massive fireplaces and autumnal spices filled the air.

And despite the beauty of the keep. I couldn’t seem to keep my eyes off of the tall, handsome redhead walking alongside me.

Once I was settled for the stay, we did meet to discuss political matters which took countless hours, but I was rather impressed with the ease of our negotiations. He and Tarquin had similar visions for the economic future within their courts.

We enjoyed dinner together, indulged in autumnal wines, including a hot mulled wine that flushed my cheeks. Or so I told Eris that was the reason for the blush on my features, and certainly not the way way he’d refer to me as “my lady” or “little fox.”

We’d stayed up late, sitting by a bon fire outside beneath the Autumn Skies. There was music and dancing, spiked ciders, and caramel apples. I could see why Eris loves his court.

We, of course, kept respectful distance from eachother as not to spark any gossip of anything more than friendship between he and I. Yet somehow, hours later, we found ourselves in a private courtyard - a small fire burning as we lay back on a blanket together. I began to shiver as the evening chill grew cooler. As I went to bid Eris goodnight and head for the warmth within Castle Walls, he halted me.

“Come here” he spoke. His voice low.

I scooted a bit closer.

“Come closer, little fox. I won’t bite.”

He refrained from adding “unless you ask me to” but that was readable enough in his heavy lidded gaze.

So I laid beside him, my head nestled between his chest and shoulder as his heat warmed my body. I showed him various constellations that I’d learned of during my time in the Night Court and he did a terrible job of visualizing them. He tried though. He told me how he used to wish on shooting stars, how he still found himself occasionally wishing upon them. I teared up when he told me of the wishes he’d made back then for his mother and Lucien, for himself, to one day escape Beron’s cruelty. For a better life. A better Court.

When we saw a shooting star later, he made a wish and told me it was bad luck to tell someone else the wish.

And I, despite everything that had turned upside down in life, found myself struggling to ask for anything more than what I had in that moment.

When we finally said goodnight I realized his own suite was right next to the one he had set me up in.

I woke in a sweat sometime hours before dawn. Pain ripping through my chest. Azriel once again pulling on the fucking bond with no regard for the feelings of despair he was shoving to me. This time was worse than usual, the waves of grief continuing to grow stronger and stronger all the time. It wasn’t fair. I didn’t deserve this. This was a bed of his own making and yet I still had to suffer beyond what I’d already been through. Sleeping through it was futile and the room’s darkness began to suffocate me.

I padded from my room to a common area outside of the suites, sat before the fireplace and worked on breathing through it.

Though I tried my best to remain quiet, Eris apparently had a sharp sense of hearing as he wandered into the room, seating himself on the floor beside me. If I hadn’t been in such a sorry state, perhaps I would have noticed the low slung gray sweatpants and broad muscled chest of the half-naked High Lord- no, friend - beside me.

He took my hand. “Hey, fox, look at me.” I lifted my gaze to his. “You’ve got this. Breathe for me.” I took a shallow breath. “Can you breathe deeper for me, little one?” He placed a hand on my shoulder while the other remained on my hand. I took a deeper breath and let it out slowly.

“Good girl.”

Eris sat with me in silence on a plush couch once my breathing steadied. Still too worked up to fall back asleep, I nestled myself against Eris’ chest while his fingers ran through my hair in soothing, repetitive strokes.

It was hours later that I awoke, finding that I’d fallen asleep on him. I tried shifting away slowly but a sleeping Eris only held his arm around me tighter as I pulled. We slept like that a while longer.

The rest of the trip went by uneventfully. We discussed further trade options and Eris spent the evenings working with me on how to close off the bond to Azriel’s feelings. While I was already excellent at shutting down sending my feelings down the bond, cutting off his feelings was what I needed help with. By the end of the stay I could only feel his emotions slightly.

I expressed my gratitude to Eris who only waived off my thanks. “Anyone would have done it.” Yet he was the only one who tried. What I didn’t tell Eris was that as Azriel’s end of the bond silenced and the depths of my soul went from overflowing to filled with contentment, my thoughts began drifting to happier things, drifted to him.

Front porch and one more kiss. It doesn't make sense to anybody else.

The fifth month after I left, my grandparents held an outdoor feast for our family and friends in celebration of a holiday of one of the lesser Summer gods they worshipped.

It was far from a religious event. There was always wine, dancing, and lively conversation at these celebrations with none of the boring sermons that typically came with such events.

I invited Eris, and to my delight he came. My drunken sister made plenty of comments over how pretty of a pair of “friends” we made, with overemphasis on the word. My sweet, protective nephew took to Eris right away, deciding that after what Azriel put me through, anyone was better than him. He had no tolerance for cheating or sympathy for adulterers from the time he was old enough to understand what it meant and that his father had cheated on my sister during her pregnancy (real stand up guy) though my sister was so far out of his league that he’d have to reach the stars to find someone better. Obviously she’d left him immediately and she and my nephew were better off for it.

My family tried their best and failed miserably to act normal with the High Lord of the Autumn Court in their presence. Fortunately, Eris paid no mind and had won everyone over by the end of the night.

Despite his aversion to the sand, Eris accepted my invitation to camp on the beach so we could enjoy my favorite part of the night, the fireworks shooting off over the bay.

As the finale approached, I pouted.

“I hate when they end.”

Gesturing toward himself, Eris replied. “It’s a good thing you have a High Lord at your disposal to light up the night any time you wish.”

Before I could reprimand him for the crude comment, he began shooting small orbs of fire toward the water in a rainbow of colors.

My eyes sparkled watching the vibrant flares. Soon enough the orbs into butterflies of fire flying through the air, some circling around me. One brushed my cheek and there was no pain, just a gentle flutter.

“That’s… Just wow, that’s incredible, Eris!”

He gave a shrug of nonchalance in return.

“I bet you do that for all the ladies, don’t you?”

Eris looked me in the eyes, something unreadable in them.

“Only the ones I want to kiss.”

A moment passed before I realized that he was entirely serious.

And that I WANTED to kiss him.

So I did.

We kissed under the stars. It was a hard, passionate kiss, our shared breaths riddled with desperation, a profession of the unspoken words between us, “I’ve been waiting for this.”

And when we eventually pulled apart, I looked into his eyes with a smile, genuine, full of adoration, and Eris gently grasped the back of my head, pulling me into another searing kiss.

We shared many more before dawn.

You can’t undo a fall like this.

When Eris returned to the Autumn Court, I tried feeling any remorse for what we’d done. I was technically still a mated female, though I’d left and due to Azriel’s infidelity nobody expected me to honor the bond.

The guilt never came.

Eris had to travel so I wasn’t able to see him for the next couple weeks but we wrote back and forth often through enchanted notes. Curiosity or concern must have gotten the best of him because eventually he asked:

“Do you regret it?”

I knew exactly what he referred to.

“I regret many things, Eris. None of which pertain to you.”

I sent the letter to him with confidence. I did not regret a single thing about the night our lips collided on the beach.

“Thank the Mother, because I need to kiss you again.”

Heat radiated through me at his admission.

But then reality struck. He was the High Lord of the Autumn Court. I was the - separated, yes, but still - the mate of the Night Court’s Spymaster.

“Eris, I love spending time with you and will never regret it. You’ve helped me heal in ways I will never be able to repay you for. But this… how can this work? It’s messy.”

I sent the letter. My own heart crushing at the words. I didn’t want this to end but I couldn’t risk it going further just for reality to come crashing down on us.

Some time passed, the unease in my gut growing when his response appeared.

“If I wanted easy, I’d have married the daughter of some Autumn Lord. Nothing about my past has been easy and despite what some may believe, nothing worth having has come easily to me. Every second spent with you is worth it. Do not, Y/N, doubt that for one single moment. And perhaps this is crazy, but I would not want it any other way.”

It was that moment that I knew I wanted, I needed Eris as more than a friend.

“Then let’s be crazy, Eris Vanserra.”

I don't want "good" and I don't want "good enough"

The thing about immortality is that six months can bring more change than six decades or even centuries.

Six months ago I would have never dreamed that my mate would take the life we’d built over the years and tear it into shreds with those once sacred, beautiful scarred hands that I held reverently. The hands that placed the lovely mating band crafted from one of his own siphons on my finger after he’d made his vows, the hands that lovingly caressed my bare thighs through restless nights until sleep took me, hands that held me pressed to his chest and wiped away the tears of grief after yet another failed fertility cycle.

Those hands that held another and damned it all, the hands that came home and stroked my hair as pretty lies fell from his mouth, the hands that took my glass heart and dropped it.

I especially wouldn’t have dreamed that six months later I would be laying in the bed of the High Lord of the Autumn Court with his strong, warm hands holding me like this heart of mine that he’d forged anew was the most delicate, precious possession in his keep.

I want "can't sleep, can't breathe without your love"

We’d spent the night together making love. The kind of love making that shifts something intrinsic within a person, the type where no matter what happens, a piece of you is forever changed. It was more than just giving my body to him, it was a claiming of the soul.

We lay in bed all morning, his long fingers tracing along the arch of my bare back as he pressed soft kisses along my shoulder and neck. Between kisses, his low voice whispered quiet hopes and dreams for the future.

I was just about to speak those three words that I’d only ever spoken to one other male when a loud knock came on the chamber door.

“For fuck’s sake” Eris muttered before shouting “Come back later!”

“We apologize, High Lord but this is urgent.” a muffled male voice replied through the closed door.

Eris growled, shifting out of bed and throwing on his sweatpants not bothering with a shirt. I enjoyed the view.

“This better be worth my while, lads.” Eris hissed in a tone that conveyed “I’m very fucking inconvenienced right now but understand that you are doing your duty as my sentries.”

“Apologies again, High Lord, but we’ve….”

The male outside the door cleared his throat in attempt to communicate that the matter should be discussed privately.

“It’s fine.” Eris grumbled. “Just get on with it.”

“We, well, High Lord, we’ve apprehended the Shadowsinger. He was making an attempt to infiltrate the keep.”

———————————

@going-through-shit @kalulakunundrum @lisanna2000 @fxckmiup @sheblogs @emryb @one-big-fangirl @historygeekqueen @isa1b2h3 @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @theravenphoenix26 @sidthedollface2 @i-am-infinite @caraaaaugh @evergreenlark @darkbloodsly @piceous21 @anxious-study @chessebookgirl @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @crazylokonugget @mysticalfuncollectorus @starsinyourseyes @b0xerdancer-writes @inloveallthetime @thegirlinshadows101 @viistrength @grunchwench @starryhiraeth @macimads @feiwelinchen @acourtofbatboydreams @nebarious

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belokhvostikova · 5 months

Text

𝐓𝐡𝐞 "𝐏𝐥𝐮𝐠"

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 | A night after Homecoming has you reveling in the loneliness of your mind, but a drug dealer "meandering" his way by is there to solve your issues, especially after finding a particular toy of yours.

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | Swearing, mentions of drugs/drug dealing, minor comments about food, feelings of embarrassment, overthinking, mentions of mean friends/exclusion, loneliness, insecurities, and explicit sexual content: fondling, one spank, edging, orgasm denial, praise kink, sir kink, oral (female receiving), rimming (female receiving), anal play/fingering, use of sex toy (butt plug), and unprotected vaginal sex.

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞 | Everyone be honest: do you actually enjoy my writing being this long, when little to nothing is happening? I don't know, I feel like I dramatically wrote this, it's kinda comical. Also, this is literally an entire Soundgasm audio I heard, but can no longer find- the agony! All script credits to them, I’ll try to link it once I do find it! And, @strangerstilinski is a lot better at Pinterest than me, so big, loveable thanks to you for the photos!

𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐬, 𝐃𝐨 𝐍𝐨𝐭 𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭.

Cold and creamy, the slab of lotion smearing its enriching silk onto the skin of your shaven legs to prevent that inevitable itch in a couple days had been the only thing to smooth over your mind in the suffocating humidity of your bathroom. But even then, the sweetening smell of coconuts and vanilla couldn’t fully appease your feelings from the nagging reality of how isolated you felt from the people closest to you.

Quinton Reeves.

For whatever reason, retired number ninety-five of Hawkins High’s baseball conference champions of 1983, still had the popularity chokehold of high schoolers, despite the matter of being into his second year of his community college career, while brandishing the golden name tag of the multiplex theater he hadn’t left since junior year. Something about giving away free tickets to greedy teenagers, that’s what made him “cool,” though utterly pathetic in your eyes.

But unfortunately, in the eyes of swooning cheerleaders, Quinton Reeves’ “maturity” had made his Friday night rager on Old Cherry Road the main priority of your friends’ plans, after a grueling night of sore toes and itchy fabric that was the Homecoming dance. An actual celebration, where booze monitoring or debauchery dance moves couldn’t be policed by the faculty of your soon to be alma mater. Not that it was celebrating much, those green and orange jerseys adorned by the most admired only saw scuff marks with no touchdowns; yet another year of despair for Hawkins High’s athletic department. And yet, somehow a trophy-less trophy cabinet did little to sway the big egos of the prim and proper. Funny. So now, you sigh, basking in a night of a hot shower, trying to exfoliate and shave off that icky feeling in you that you knew resided deeper than superficially.

Because while your friends drank the night away at Quinton Reeves’ Friday night rager on Old Cherry Road, you sat forlorn with a kitchen full of purchased junk food, a bathroom full of face masks, a bedside table full of magazines, and a television stand full of movies, because despite being planned a week in advance—after you conveniently got left out of Stacy Wither’s girls night—Quinton Reeves’ Friday night rager on Old Cherry Road became more important than your girls night.

Softened skin bundled in cozy clothes, you watched your saddened reflection in the foggy mirror of your bathroom, where a squeaking wipe to the condensation allowed for pellets of water to race down the glass. Beneath the mask of green gunk that claimed to heal those pesky bumps of raging hormones on your skin, you could still see the dampen expression of your sorrow face, where you recollected the comments of your so-called friends.

Buzz-kill. Bummer. Borning. Rummaging through the entirety of the B section of Merriam-Webster’s Collegiate Thesaurus just to really cement the fact that they wanted nothing to do with your itinerary-riddled girls night.

You splashed your face with the wake of lukewarm water. To hell with them; your skin was glowing, body freshly cleaned, your scalp free from any solid itch of hairspray, fingers and toes wiggling with a beaming white polish, and you had an assortment of snacks to rake through while ogling at Ferris Bueller, watching him have a day off with his friends who actually care. Perhaps you should take a stroll through Chicago, and catch a Cubs game. It wasn’t anything but a state away. And if you got lucky, maybe you could find Sloane Peterson’s fringe jacket in your stack of magazines.

Surely, Ferris Bueller was cuter than any twenty-one-year-old who still spent his weekends partying with high schoolers.

Christ, a parked full driveway.

Eddie, four hundred seventy-six dollars richer, Munson craned his neck, ticking his tongue at the scale of which your house stood at 11:28 p.m on this Friday night. One hesitant sniff at his shirt, and he regretted the decision of not moving Samara Lawson away any faster, when the drunken girl attempted the flirtatious endeavor of receiving that twenty-five percent discount you were always accustomed to.

Perhaps her revenge on the dealer, himself, after he politely declined with a harsh line to his lips was forcing him to reek of booze after a tight hug to ensure her chest squished against his just enough that Samara Lawson surely thought it would deduct a dollar or two. It didn’t.

“Fucking two stories, man…” Eddie sighed, kicking the mulch of your mother’s meticulously cared for garden, as the bricks of your home seemed to drag onward for an eternity from his five foot eleven stance (six feet if you’d ever ask).

A towel in hand, you gently dabbed away the excess water from your face, before you turned to serums and creams to gently massage your face with, hoping to ease any worry lines your friends have cost you in the wake of disappointment. Mint flavoring of stringy floss proceeded to invade your mouth, as you plucked all you could from your teeth to triumph through your oral hygiene care. Not that it mattered, though, a party-sized bag of Doritos was awaiting its fate of being empty by the time Pretty in Pink began its course of replay.

If Eddie Munson knew anything, it was the probable fact that your bedroom could be found from the dimly lit window on the left wing of your home, where white curtains cascaded against a potential entry to your room. In the instances in which Eddie found himself in the weekly routine of taking three steps up porch and three knocks to the door, the stained glass that adorned your front door for decorative reasons always allowed him the warped sight of you appearing from the left side of the second story, before bouncing down the stairs like Yasmin Bleeth running down Will Rogers State Beach.

And for the brief one minute and thirty-seven seconds it took to exchange the half ounce for fifteen dollars—prolonged extensively by Eddie Munson’s attempt at small talk—Eddie lavished in the bubble that was your true element. While cheer skirts became devastatingly enticing when you wore them, something about pajama pants that pooled at your feet for the entirety of being too long with sweaters that swallowed your tiny hands in comparison to his truly had his heart cinching with the tight grasp of utter devotion.

It became the only thing that inveigled him to make the thirty minute trek across town to deliver your demands. What a surprise it was when Chrissy Cunningham revealed the dealer, himself, never offered her home visits, after too many complaints of making the eerie journey through the woods to receive her goods had you suggesting to your friend to give him the call you did weekly. But a groaned out, “You know he’d never do that; his whole ‘I don’t come to you, you come to me’ policy,” had you perplexed in the face. He had never disclosed you of that. Huh.

“For the love of God, please just let me be right for once.” Eddie huffed, as his calloused hand collected itself around the gutters that followed alongside your home, which provided him the leverage to denounce the white window sills with dirty scuff marks of Hawkins’ muddy winter sleet.

How more pathetic could you possibly look? A frown had permanently etched itself onto your face, where a fake smile was once plastered before Lucy Coleman informed you of the fact that no one was showing up to your scheduled ‘Homecoming’s Coming Home Girls Night.’ God, you even had a cute name for it… ish.

Freaking twenty-one-year-old multiplex ushers.

Giving up the bathroom for the night, a trip following the banister down to the kitchen became a dangerous game of stuffing your feelings with carbohydrates you’d eventually come to regret the next morning. Your father had made the safe assumption to ignore the ruckus of opening cabinets and crinkling wrappers that appeared behind him from the living room, because eighteen years of living with you had taught him you were always one, “are you okay?” away from exploding from the angsty teenage rage that bubbled inside you. By tomorrow, you’d eventually come to him with a sadden face and wails of a hurt tummy, and just like you were seven, he’d be there to comfort you with a hearty breakfast and open arms.

Littered posters, rumpled white sheets of little red heart, a vanity besmirched with powders and glitters, and a heavy resemblance of laundry piles that mimicked his bedroom floor—saved from the blacks and denim, only colors and lace this time. If, for whatever reason, this wasn’t your bedroom, Eddie Munson would be heavily concerned.

With an artillery load of snacks on hand, your father followed your huffy stomps through the living room and up the stairs. “Wanna save me some?” A joke terribly unappreciated on your part, as a scowl met his lighthearted smile.

Your bare toes dug into the carpeted steps to solidify your displeased mood. A little dramatic, and unserious, but only targeted to your flippant father, who found amusement in the little jabs that made your face crease like your mother’s. The actual hurt and betrayal that lingered within was still discreetly churning in your belly with the fretful epiphany of how lonely your friends made you feel.

But as mentioned, that’d be a discussion for tomorrow morning, when you could cry into your scramble eggs.

One step at a time, the view of your bedroom door—cracked, and flooding the hallway with the mustardness of lamps—came to light, as a guttural sigh left your mouth as a “fuck you” to the stir of messes you felt, pounding at your head with no mercy, as if the shitty friends you had wasn’t enough, they were capable of making you feel horrible, awful things.

Yeah, fuck yo- “Ah!”

Bags of chips and wrappers of candy avalanched down the doorway of your bedroom, as Eddie Munson’s already large eyes rounded to the ghastliness of yours, hunched and frozen in stance of that of a burglar, and suddenly Eddie was coming to the realization of how utterly creepy he looked.

“Sweetpea?!”

“Hon?!”

A call from the living room, a call from your parents’ room; your mother and father’s voice boomed with concern of what could be another dramatic yell fueled by teenage temper or actual danger. But Eddie’s surrendering hands, with a look of desperate apologies that had to go unspoken unless he wanted to be caught by your parents had made it apparent that Hawkins’ local drug dealer who wandered about with a gaudy jewelry and hair you’d like to braid had little to offer when it came to harm.

Also, the way in which his fretful finger was comically signaling to his prized lunchbox had let the understanding of business ventures finally hit you.

“S-Sorry! Um, giant spider!” Stifling their consternation of any imminent danger, Eddie cracked a tiny smile, before treading down to your feet to pick up what he caused to drop in the first place.

One after another, your pile of snacks were now being examined under the scrutiny of your drug dealer. “Friends coming over for a sleepover or somethin’?”

Insulting. “No.” You mumbled with a particular sass he hadn't usually been indulged in, that had him quietly chuckling. God, him and your father would get along.

Sat aside on your bedside table to be feasted upon when cute, unwarranted company couldn’t witness the giant devour, you quietly closed your bedroom door, and stood watching Eddie Munson awkwardly swing his arms.

“You’re probably-”

“So, um-

“Oh, I’m sorry, go ahead.” He encouraged you with a tight-lipped smile.

You shrugged, and sat upon the edge of your bed. “I was just going to ask why you snuck into my room… at this hour.”

Eddie cleared his throat. “No, yeah, um, I realize how weird this must be, but, uh,” his eyes gallivanted to the notable furniture that adorned your bedroom—bookshelf, arm chair, desk—to avoid the knowing look on your face he’d have to be met with, because for whatever reason it was, it was now just painfully dawning on Eddie Munson how terrible of a move this was. “Well, I was just heading home, passing through the neighborhood,” lie, “and realized you weren’t at the party- Reeves’, I mean, you weren’t at Reeves’ party.”

And you truly gave the man, himself, little to offer with your subtle, “yeah,” that would force him to grab a crowbar to pry what little information he was willing to take for the night if it meant you’d just keep talking to him.

“Just, uh, all your friends were there, bought from me n’ all, but, um, I don’t know, just kinda figured you’d be there with them since you always are.” He mustered out, as his eyes rapidly jumped about to scan the movements of your body. “And, well, didn’t see my number one customer.”

And Eddie smiled, as your heart began pattering with stirring feelings that had your throat tightening with disbelief. “You came to check on me?” So softly spoken.

“No, no.” Oh. How more embarrassing can this get for you? He might as well point and laugh in your face for being so lonely. “I-I, um, thought I could, uh, drop off your usual, y’know, squeeze in some extra cash.” Of course. “I saved you some.” Eddie patted his battered box.

He watched your body deflate, and suddenly he wondered why he went that route, when it clearly caused the frown line on your face to deepen. “Right, um, thanks.” You sighed. Junk food and weed? At the very least, you could be high when crying tonight.

One second to open your bedside drawer, but another second halted by Eddie’s voice that stopped your movements from stretching to reach for your wallet inside. “I- y’know what? Free of charge.” He propped open the metal lid to grasp onto the reserved baggie of the usual half ounce, before placing the lunchbox down to hand the substance to you. And he read you confused look quickly, as your hand hesitantly graced his fingers to take the goods. “Just, um, loyal customer, figured I should give back.”

“Eddie, you already gave me a discount, I really don’t mind paying.” A promise to indemnify him for all that he already did.

“Ah, well, you should, because I’ll be terribly offended if you do pay me.” He broke a smile that had your shoulders slumping with relaxation. “Just, uh, gotta let me hang here for a minute, if that’s okay with you.”

“You want to stay here?”

“Food, weed, and your company? C’mon, what kind of man would I be to pass up that opportunity?” And thankfully, that was enough confidence to have you shyly giggling before him. “Just a little break before I head home, I guess.”

“Had too much fun partying?” You teased.

“Think I would’ve had more fun if you were there.” Oh, no. Pattering heartbeats, and now fluttering butterflies disrupt the peace of your tummy, as Eddie stared down at you. “Mind if I sit, uh, next to you, or over there, or wherever?”

You nodded to his request, complying by moving to the center of your bed, where you and Eddie sat back in the bundle of your rumpled duvet and pillows. A pregnant pause consumed over, as Eddie chose to linger in the silence to get a good view of the knick knacks that disheveled your room perfectly, and you admired the glow in which his profile became illuminated by. With bouncing eyes, it became the shiny embroidery of gold italics on the velvet sash that read “Homecoming Court” that paired cheaply with the tiny, plastic $3.99 Party City tiara that had dug into your scalp for the three hours you had to endure that night that caught Eddie’s attention.

“You win?” He abrasively asked.

“Uh, no.” You quietly answered. “Chrissy Cunningham got the bigger crown.”

Eddie nodded along. “Figures.” He added. “She’s sweet.”

It was your turn to nod, as the lips concaved into your teeth, while your fingers rustled with the plastic baggy in hand. “Yeah, she is.”

“Kinda boring, though. Don’t you think?” He tossed his head back to meet his eyes upon yours.

“Chrissy?”

“No- well, not really, I mean Chrissy winning, y’know? Carver, too.” He clarified, as he watched your face with the suggestions he was making. “Like, why even vote- or hell, go to that shitshow if we already know who’s going to win? At the very least, throw in a curveball. Like-Like, Johnny Katowski.” Eddie laughed.

“The kid from chess club?” You quietly giggled, as Eddie sat up.

“Yeah, him!” He declared. “How great would it be to see a kid like him winning Homecoming King, I mean, he may have bitched me out when I knocked into his lunch table and messed up his little figurines-”

“Pawns?”

“Yeah, pawns.” He laughed. “But the point is, why not give some other people the light, y’know?”

“Oh, well, Johnny Katowski is a really nice person, but I think he’d be too shy to enjoy everyone staring at him.” You quietly spoke, as you fiddled with your fingers under Eddie’s stare. “But, um, other people like you?”

“I meant other people like you.” Eddie smiled. “I’m too good to be king.” He joked, as you laughed at his cockiness. “I’m sure that dance would’ve been better if you had won, ‘s all. Just like the party.”

Your brows raised with gentle curiosity. “Oh, did you not have a good time at the dance?”

“Oh, no,” he waved you off, “didn’t even go. Dances aren’t exactly my thing, sweetheart.”

You softly giggled. “You didn’t go to the dance, but you went to the afterparty?”

“Can’t exactly sell my supply on school premises, Y/N.” Eddie jokingly protested. “And even so, you went to the dance and not the afterparty.” Like tightening rope around your throat, your gut was hit with the simple analysis Eddie concurred. Though rather obvious, it somehow manifested worse coming out in the words of others around you who clearly saw the disconnect between you and your friends. Sure, a little more information would solidify it, but in the overworking mind of intrusive thoughts that made up your mind, Eddie’s phrase managed to concoct the notion that all of Hawkins High was now acutely aware of the fact that the ties of friendship with the girls closest to you was now being severed at the hands of no longer wanting you. “Hey, you okay?” His face lowered to catch yours, only to quickly move as you suddenly cleared your throat whilst straightening your comfortable posture.

“Yeah, yeah, just a little tired, I guess.” You mumbled, providing him a small smile to end whatever prodding he was about to dig into. You no longer wanted it.

“Oh.” He spoke. “Um, you want me to leave, leave you alone?”

“No, no.” You assured him. “It’s okay.”

Another silent pause. Eddie Munson laid his cards on the table. A, he could cut the awkwardness short, and be on his way back home, sufficed with the fact that he, at least, got more words out of you than the usual “thank you, here’s your money, see you next week” routine, that he’ll be stuck with for the rest of the school year, until you inevitably leave for college- I mean, good for you, but then he would be stuck with a whirlwind of what if’s that would eat him alive, all while you got the live your prosperous life in god knows what city, where some dude who actually had to balls to make a move on you would get the honor of being called your boyfriend. Deep breath. Or B, he could just be a friend right now, because it really looked like you needed one.

“You’re sure you’re okay?” You slowly peered up at him. “I mean, like, you’ve always been kinda quiet, just, y’know, from seeing you around, but you seem a little more down now. Like mime quiet.” He smiled, eliciting a worn giggle from you. “Just feel like you have something to say, but you’re not saying it.”

“I…” you sighed, “it’s really stupid, Eddie.” Because suddenly sitting back with Eddie—whose personal life details were spread around town for the sake of small town gossip to enact who could and could not associate with the shunned of Hawkins, Indiana—your problems felt entirely too small. The last thing he needed was to be drowned by your superficial problems. The last thing you needed was to be judged for feeling the way you did, when Eddie Munson would give the reality check of a lifetime, and tell you to grow up. “Yeah, just, um, really miniscule things that I don’t, uh, wanna annoy you with.” You attempted to laugh off.

“I asked you.” Eddie stated matter-of-factly. “You’re not gonna annoy me when I’m literally asking to hear you, sweetheart.” He chuckled in disbelief at your resigned behavior, baffled by the notion you could even believe anything about you to be bothersome. “C’mon, just say it, say it with your chest, just lay it all on me. Can’t do any good to keep it in, no?”

Eddie Munson had quite the knack of being a cute motivational speaker, as your giggles caused by his coltish self seemed to abate the linger tussle of depressive hesitancy in your mind. “It’s just… y’know, my friends, n’ all.” A hearty grunt of agreement coming from Eddie had you laughing through your words, as his face of distaste for your friends made it easier to speak. “Like, I just know they-they don’t want me- or, at least, it really feels like that. God, Eddie I rented out all these movies, bought some face masks- which are really expensive, by the way, and these damn snacks, ugh. Why-Why is some lame party more important than my plans, than me? They just don’t care! And I get I’m more quiet than them, but why does that mean I have to be left out of everything?! A-And, y’know, they always say I’m a bummer, but they don’t think about the fact that they make me a bummer. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I love shopping just as much as the next guy, but knit-picking everything that’s wrong with how a dress looks on me isn’t exactly going to make me an ecstatic person, y’know?!”

Eddie Munson used to be able to count the number of words you spoke to him on the fingers of one hand. And right now, that was, at least, twenty-five singular hands. And the thought had him smiling in the distance, when in actuality, that stagnant pause was an invitation for him to speak, as per a normal conversation. So it became that very smile that had your stomach flipping with ignominy at the fact that your overthinking thoughts were transpiring right in front of you: Eddie Munson thought your problems were laughable.

A quiet “huh” was all he had to say.

“Well?” Your face, unfortunately, contorted with desperate validation. “You think it’s stupid, don’t you?” Almost accusatory, but in all seriousness, his lack of words were only cementing the scary thought that infested your head: you were the problem.

While deliberating, Eddie was really trying to give you the benefit of the doubt, he really was. But for the love of god, why were you allowing these people to have this much sway over your life? Three days ago, Courtney Keller, co-captain of Hawkins High’s cheer team, who conveniently sat a desk over in Eddie Munson’s English literature class thanks to Ms. O’Donnell’s tyrannical assigned seating, was overheard asking if Romeo and Juliet had been inspired by the 1978 cult classic Grease. Ah, yes, because William Shakespeare surely looked to a Hollywood blockbuster love story of a goody-two-shoes and greaser to write his most notable play. These were the people making you miserable?! You bombarded your letterman jacket with a bunch of tiny, obscure pins for crying out loud! Only you could make those god awful, gaudy, green jackets look remotely cool. Not to mention the fact that when looking at you from a distance—totally not creepy—Eddie could make out those funky, little doodles that indented the cover of your notebooks, before being thrown into your stuffed locker of knick knacks and stickers. Pins and doodles? Totally cool in Eddie Munson’s book.

Okay, maybe not the most substantial aspects to determine one’s coolness, and perhaps, most wouldn’t look to the super, super senior to constitute what is, but the fact of the matter was that Eddie Munson, himself, thought you were pretty damn cool, so who the hell were some peaked-in-high-school nobodies to tell you otherwise?

“What do I think? Uh, how do I put this?” Eddie reiterated, playing out the right words to confront you with. Though, Eddie Munson wasn’t necessarily one to speak so eloquently. “I think you’re kinda acting like a dumbass,” and your fallen face had him stuttering into recovery, “n-no, I mean, like, not that you’re dumb or anything, you’re really fucking smart. It’s just, I dunno, c’mon, you’re smart enough not to let them bother you.” He exasperated.

“Like-”

“Like- sorry,” he interrupted, “I just mean that you’re so much better than them. Like, in every aspect, you have so much more going on than their puny life.”

“Well, according to them, I don’t even have a life.” You grumbled, knees wedging themselves against your chest to provide the perfect burial for your head.

Eddie sighed, choosing to sit up against the headboard of your bed to get your smushed face to follow his movements. “Hate to break it to your sweetheart, but getting shitfaced at some boring party isn’t exactly the epitome of having a life. I mean, sure, maybe to the people who thrive in small town shitholes like this place,” and luckily, Eddie was able to follow along with your airy giggles, “but you and I? Hell, no, babe, nuh-uh, we were made for bigger shit than Hawkins.” He smiled.

And you smiled, too. “Like New York?”

“Like New York.”

“Ooh, or somewhere pretty like Paris or Marseille?” Your head finally perked up.

“Sure… I mean, I think I can put up with French people for you.” He joked, letting that genuine laugh fall from your lips so effortlessly. “Kinda draw the line at eating snails, though.”

You gasped dramatically. “What?! You’re telling me you’ve never tried Benny’s escargots?!” Yeah, you were way cooler than any Courtney Keller clone.

Eddie’s head leaned back, as his hearty laughs quietly fanned your face, until the atmosphere was finally at peace with steady breaths. “I mean it, sweetheart, just gotta look them right in the eyes, use those big, beautiful things you got, and tell them to fuck right off.”

While undeniably making your heart patter in your chest, Eddie Munson’s comment also served to become the catalyst for the most humiliating moment of your life. With your face turned away into your knees to shield him from the lovesick smile you were embarrassingly about to flash him, you terribly missed the single opportunity it would have taken to redirect Eddie’s devastatingly—for you—short attention span away from the beaming jewel that rested in your still opened drawer.

“What’s this?” Pink and glimmering under the lowlight of your lamps, Eddie couldn’t resist the encrusted jewel lined with silver. And you hummed in question, oblivious to his findings, turning around all too late. “In your nightstand.” His hand inching closer and closer.

In your nightstand, in your nightstand, in your nightstand, echoing like a nightmare on repeat, as your eyes widened at the epiphany that Eddie Munson had found your- “Don’t touch that!” Your father’s brow cocked, wondering what movie it was this time eliciting dramatic reactions from you. But Eddie’s calloused fingers had already grappled onto the silver handle, pulling out what was beyond mortifying for you, as the lamp shade had fully revealed what concealed item contained that sparkling decoration.

“Oh, damn…” Eddie blinked, swallowing the nothingness of his throat, as a stir began to tickle his naval just below the belt. Both sets of eyes glued to the bulbous end of your plug, though Eddie’s incoming smirk seemed to differentiate tremendously to your gaping mouth of disbelief, where you sat frozen in horror at the events transpiring before you. Held like a priceless jewel, Eddie examined your personal toy with a devious smile to pair. “You use this? Like, it really goes up your ass?”

Your internal being was screaming at the top of your lungs, all masked by the stoic features of your face that refused to accept the reality of what was happening. “Eddie.” You managed to mutter out. “Please, put that back!” Harsh whispers smacked him in the face. “Eddie, I- sorry, just please, I’ll-”

“Hey, hey, hey, it’s okay.” His free hand came to secure itself around your knee, allowing that tightening breath to finally make its escape from the anxious hold in your chest. “Really, I just- it’s cool, just caught me by surprise ‘s all.”

“Okay, well, can you please just put it back, and forget this ever happened?” You pleaded, wishing him away for the night, hoping to never meet his eyes, the same eyes that made your butt plug fall under scrutiny. “I swear, it’s not mine- well, it is, but, like, I didn’t buy it, my stupid friends, ugh-”

Palms digging into the sockets of your eyes, you wielded this as your punishment, hoping the pain would come to mask the utter humiliation of Eddie finding your personal belongings. Uptight, they joked. Laughing with those giggles you learned to despise as you unwrapped the decorative paper that covered your birthday present. A book, a journal, sketch pencils, or plant, any and everything that could have sufficed as personal presents that would have been highly appreciated. But your friends seeked another personal route, with the jabbing comment of wanting you to “loosen up.” And so what, gag gift or not, the use of that particular toy came about as no one else’s business, because while the contribution came at the expense of the devastating realization that your friends were grade A assholes, there was no judgment in exploring yours- GOD.

“Hey, seriously, sweetheart.” Eddie’s hands came to pry yours away, letting his lighthearted eyes cast away the round, sadness of yours. “I just, y’know, didn’t think you were like that- or into that.”

“Oh, right, because I’m so uptight and boring.” You defensively rolled your eyes at him, before attempting to move from your spot next to him, but Eddie worked quicker to keep you in place.

He spoke earnestly. “Hey, no, don’t put words in my mouth, I didn’t say that.” Eddie sighed, jumping through the endeavors to show his action didn’t come maliciously. “Seriously, you know that, alright. Don’t think of me as being that kind of person.”

You sighed in defeat. “Eddie, this is just beyond humiliating.” And he desperately just wanted to take a hold of your adorably sullen face.

“I don’t think it’s humiliating.” He smiled, of course, it wasn’t his butt plug in his hand. “Think it’s kinda… intriguing. L-Like, sexy.” Your eyes peered to his height, searching for the laughter of a joke you swore was about to follow. But Eddie Munson had never lost the hold of your eyes, piercing his through yours to strike that flame in your body with a burning match.

“Really?”

Eddie nodded. “Yeah.” His fingers continuously fiddling with your toy in hand, as his pants tightened at the mere thought of it being inside of you. What you did, late at night, to destress, finding an escape in the pleasure of being plugged, and played with. “Knowing what you like, testing your body, yeah, sweetheart, it’s really fucking sexy.” He slyly eyed you down, as your throat went dry under his dark stare. “Wouldn’t even mind seeing it.”

“W-What?” You stuttered out, thighs tightening to rub that aching thump brewing between your legs. “Like, um-”

“If you’re okay with it, Y/N,” Eddie took over for you, “I’d like to see how you make yourself feel good.”

Your mouth gulped like a fish out of water, trying to find the right words that were lost in the tangled disarray that was your overthinking mind, beating heart, fluttering tummy, and pulsating heat. But even that gnawing anxiety couldn’t deny you the unbearable urge to have Eddie Munson ravish you. “I- right now?” You spoke so quietly, nodding to the sentiment.

“Yeah,” his tongue drenched his lips with one swipe, “let’s just say it’s for, uh, educational purposes, what do you say? Might even, y’know, get your mind off things. Relax. Feel good. Better than that fucking weed can do.” His ringed hand took a hold of the plastic baggie from your side to place away in your nightstand- inside, where you apparently held your most precious items.

You swallowed the nerves away, allowing yourself the selfish pleasure of Eddie’s touch to wash away the heavy troubles of your mind. You want this. You deserve this. “Please?” So delicately spoken.

“Yeah?” He sneered. You nodded. Under his gaze, you made the move onto your knees to comfortably shift out of your pajama shorts, but your hands couldn’t move further than grasping onto your waistband, before Eddie made a quick call to stop you. “Woah, woah, what are you doin’, sweetheart?”

Your mouth opened to speak, but you froze in the awkward position, and eyed him worriedly. Surely, you couldn’t have possibly read this entirely wrong. “I- you said you wanted to see, like, taking off my clothes.” You meekly explained, as the burns of a suffocating bonfire blazed your cheeks with embarrassment.

“No, c’mon, baby, you gotta let me be a gentleman first.” Eddie chuckled. “Can’t just start fillin’ you up without kissing you. Get over here.” He patted his lap.

Your leg thrown over his had you seated on the thickness of Eddie’s thigh, as the skin of yours nipped at the graying denim of his black jeans. Plug aside, his fingers teased at the seam of your shorts to encourage your hands to place themselves on his chest, where he saw you hesitantly reaching for. Feeling the cracking print of his worn band tee had suddenly brought you a sense of contentment, allowing you to comfortably press your weight onto his legs, a sign of snugness that had him smiling at you lovingly. Goosebumps arose in the wake of Eddie’s fingers brushing down the sides of your thighs to connect with the creasing of your knees, finding the fold as leverage to bring you forth.

Chest to chest. Nose to nose. “You gonna give me what I’ve been dreamin’ about?” Your lips grazed the oncoming stubble of his upper lip, just seconds of subtle, bare touches that were feeding into that aching desire igniting inside both of you, before fully securing your mouth upon his. Eddie’s lips became a suction, refusing to let you go, as his hand crept with security to the back of your neck. Your tiny moans melted into the kiss, with tenuous grinds against his bulge that bent the zipper of his jeans, all too deliciously for Eddie to handle, leaving his mouth drowning with saliva that slicked your lips with the taste of Eddie Munson. “Don’t have to worry about anything with me.” He murmured into you.

A hungry “mhm” was all that could be trusted to come out of you, as your hips rolled with greed, entirely fueled by his tantalizing hand that squeezed at any fat he could latch onto.

“Everybody deserves a break, baby.” He cemented with firm pecks that left your lips raw with the sound of spit smacking to echo into your ear. “Just let me be nice to you- let me be so fucking nice to you.” You nodded against his face, nose bumping with harsh breaths, as neither of you could find the will to pull away. “Let’s- fuck, let’s get these off now, pretty.” Eddie snapped your stretchy waistband against your hip.

Tingles coursed through your legs, as you found the strength to dig your pedicured feet into the rug of your bedroom, and stand before him. His blunt nails gently scratched down your legs to invigorate you to declothe. Your bottoms slid down, pooling at your feet, before you stepped out to have your pussy on display for him.

“Mm.” Eddie lowly hummed, enthralled by your mound, so perfectly decorated with the hairs of your pubes, and puffed between your thighs. “Damn, you standing here without your shorts makes me wanna listen to music.” He smiled.

Your brow pointed, gifting him the sight of your confused, little face that had him chuckling at you. “What?” You asked.

“Y’know,” he snickered, “‘cause I wanna use your thighs as headphones.”

Your girlish giggled made him feel good about his awful joke, finding all enjoyment in seeing your hands cutely hide your face from the shyness of your nature, despite standing bare in front of him. “Eddie, that’s so corny.” You laughed.

“But I got a smile out of you, s’all I care about.” His hands came to yours to twiddle with your fingers that differed from his thick ones, lavished in the loud jewelry he brandished. “So, uh, I imagine I gotta get you ready first, y’know, wet. Don’t wanna hurt you.” You softly nodded to confirm his words, suddenly feeling the tickles in your belly moisten you, as the realization of this actually happening was becoming truer by the second. “Somewhat of a handyman, myself, can grab some DW40 or somethin’.”

“Eddie.” You flirtatiously chastised, mewling a whine of gauche, of which you had a real talent of making cute.

He laughed. “Look, look, there’s no… romantic or- fuck, I dunno, chivalrous way of asking someone if you can eat their ass, so can I just eat you ass, sweetheart?”

Eddie’s unabashed bluntness had your face burning with the intoxicating sensations of humiliation and want, brewing something nasty in you that always laid dormant under the unexplored aspects of your desires. Leave it to Eddie Munson to elicit that filth with the raunchy words of his mouth that already showed you just how sinfully good it could make you feel. Just for you, you hoped. But surely, Eddie had to have obtained these skills from some practice. And you wondered if that’s what you were. Practice for the next gal to have her world rocked. Or… just thoughts. Loathsome thoughts, the very things Eddie has dedicated to clearing from your pretty head, because someone with a face like yours, and being so sweet had no reason to suffer, as you did. Practice? God, no, you were just everything. So Eddie Munson made sure to give you everything.

“Yeah.” You tenderly answered. “Just, um- well, I already showered for the night before you came here, but, like, I can, you know, clean up-”

“Baby-”

“Just so you’re comfortable with every-”

Roughed by heavy car parts and heated guitar strings, his all but soft hands felt so gentle in yours, with fingers dancing in the intertwine of a caring hold, flooding you with security, as his eyes without word complimented the contours of your figure silently but so earnestly. Eddie squeezed your hand. Eyes searching inside you through yours. “Stop, stop.” Your nervous rambling came to halt. “I don’t care. I know you’re clean, I wanna taste you.”

“Yeah.” You took a deep breath. A squeeze back to show love to his tough hand. “Yeah, okay.”

A smile breached his face. “That’s what I like to hear. C’mon, bend over for me, pretty, let me ease you from your mind.”

With the rumpled duvet sinking with the load of your limbs carrying you to the center, the air felt cold against the oozing slickness of your bare cunt, spreading its welcome with the curvature of your back with tits hung from their weight on your chest, as you allowed yourself the liberty of resting your head upon your pillow. The falling of Eddie’s creased sneakers against your floor appeared louder than reality when blood was pumping in your ears to the overworking beat of your heart. Naked and vulnerable, several deep breaths were taken to appease that anxious thought in the back of your head of what you might look like to a boy you liked so dearly, but nothing ameliorated you better than the waking touch of Eddie’s hand against your ass.

“Fuck.” And suddenly his voice had a way of coaxing your hands to relax against the harsh hold of your sheets. His hands rounded the globes of your ass, feeling the fat wobble beneath, when a sharp spank landed on your right cheek, forcing you to suppress the whine with a metallic bite to your lip.

You mewled out your reprimand “Eddie! My parents are still here!” Having to whisper your frustrations, because now having a taste of what an Eddie Munson spanking could do, you wanted more, but couldn’t under a parental household.

“Sorry, I’m sorry.” He chuckled, a complete lie he muttered just to calm you, because forcing your ass to ripple with the slam of his hand would be nothing he’d apologize for. “It really is just so spankable.” Eddie’s hands worked to massage the brief sting of his abuse that had you quietly pushing back for more. “So fucking perfect, all soft n’ shit in my hands. Nice to just fucking grab, and spread apart like that- fuck.” Fingertips digging into the dough of your cheeks had pulled your pussy lips to reveal strings of sweet arousal, and two pulsating holes Eddie was desperate to fill. “That’s so fucking beautiful.” His thumbs came to brush the hairs of your lips, inspecting what he was about to cherish on his tongue.

His soft proclamations had you smitten with a smile that would surely strike him to his knees if flashed at him, but you contained yourself in the soft fuzz of your sweater that pooled at your breast to allow him the pleasure of running his course down your spine. Just an exploration of your body, feeling all his could while he can, because while your mind had a funny way of overthinking, his did, too; Eddie Munson was slapping himself to right your worries, because one wrong word, one wrong touch, one wrong stroke of his tongue had him rampant in the head that you’d leave disappointed in his actions. Forever.

“Eds.” But as Eddie Munson was there to ease you, you were there to ease Eddie Munson. You’ve nicknamed his status to something closer than drug dealer. And the salacious click of your tongue had you proving to wanting to push that status further.

Eddie smiled at the possibility. Your gasps were all that could be heard next, feeling the tip of his wet tongue browse your tight hole, as your ass swallowed him in. His mouth lathered you with the spit that once coated yours, though now preparing your asshole for the stretch he’d succumb you to, lips nipping at your hole that had you salivating your moans into your pillow. A feeling all too foreign for you, allowing someone in your most intimate area, and Eddie took it with such delicacy, manifesting all his love for your ass in the mewls he shoved between your cheeks.

It quickly found itself to be something better than lubricating your ass with the use of your slick and prodding your hole with a curious finger. Eddie had managed to bring depraved sensations with the globs of his spit and the intrusion of his tongue, forcing itself to snake past the pulses that attempted to keep him out. “Fuck, you taste so good.” Pumps and pumps of his wet muscle tickling the walls of your tight ass, as his hands pinched your body in tight grips, shaking all fat in his vicinity to do everything to be consumed by you.

“Eddie!” You hugged your pillow, suddenly feeling the fire of your warm sweater, as your ass danced along his face. “Want you to- mm! Want you to keep doing that!”

“Sorry if I’m takin’ long, baby.” Like spitting the taste of nicotine out of his mouth, a warm glob of saliva impurely landed on you, giving leeway for his thumb to massage your squeezing hole, before submerging in with your moans to accompany. “Just really wanna make sure you’re ready. Fuck, and, um, I know I said I just wanted to see how a plug works, but can I please eat at your pussy, baby, it’s right there.” God, he could smell you enticing him, seeing your pussy hole clench completely neglected as your asshole got the fun of his touch.

“Yes, please, Eddie, just want your mouth on me.” Hips thrusting back to chase what left, leaving him with nothing to do but smile and ravage your thighs and hips and sweet kisses.

“Nasty, little fucking thing, aren’t you?” He proffered no time to answer, giving himself what he wanted, face becoming smeared with the gleam of your wetness. Your pussy tickled under the scratch of his light stubble on your lips, the shoving of his nose in your sopping hole, and his tongue flicking of your clit igniting every prurient urge you ever tried to satiate on your own.

That delicious tang of your cunt infiltrated every sense within him, surrounding him in nothing but you— the hearing of you, the sight of you, the smell of you, the touch of you, the taste of you. Your raw bud throbbed under the exploitation of his mouth, sucking the shockwaves to cause your thighs to quake.

“Too much. Eds- fuck me, I can’t, s-sto- uh!” Your hand reached back at an attempt to push him away from the stampeding orgasm you were too insecure to experience him seeing. But no matter the sting of your pretty nails digging into his scalp, nothing was stopping Eddie from seeing the sheer tremble, cry, and gush he could bring your body to.

With his thick thumb plunging into your asshole, his free hand sadistically pulled at your cheeks to expose as much of your pussy as he could, leaving you to mewl at the stretch of your skin. The sole separation of your puffy lips had him moaning at the sight; such a tight pussy hole aching for something to fill it, needing to squeeze down to spark your greedy orgasm. “Shit, fucking pussy pulsating just for me.” His tongue buried itself inside, letting his finger fall to pinch at your vibrating bud, rewarding it with the tight circles of rubs that felt unbearable. “Taste so fucking delicious!” His words were barely eligible in the crevices of your cunt, but they provided all sensation to push you into your tonic state. “Cum for me, fucking cum!”

Fucked by his tongue and finger, you no further denied him, unleashing a gush of your spent to ravish his mouth, as your holes kept him in place with their tightening hold. If it wasn't for the fault of your parent’s bedroom being on the other side of your home, they would have surely heard the vulgar corruption of sweat and sex condensing the air of their daughter’s bedroom.

“Fuc- mm, uh…” Like a Pavlov dog, your pillow had soaked itself wet from the salivation of your chewed lips, as your legs shook under the grasps of Eddie’s hands.

“Shhh, baby, I’m gonna put it in. Let me play with it.” When limbs went numb after orgasmic bliss, the dealer knew now was the time your body would accept it. Gaping from the size of his thumb, Eddie’s gentle insertion made the process enjoyable, placing a delicate kiss to your asshole, before your plug was indulged in the tightness of your ass. Now crowned with a pretty, pink jewel to top. And you mewled, softly shaking your ass to adjust to your decoration, trying to find feeling in your shaky legs. “God, you sound so fucking cute.” He rubbed your ass with groping hands. “Don’t let that get into your head, though, I’m still in control here.” Eddie chuckled.

Despite falling limp, Eddie’s strength found no trouble in pulling you onto his lap, once he fell back onto his calves. While a hammering bulge was fighting back against the restraints of his cuffed belt, you couldn’t deny the fact that he didn’t feel the satisfaction of a bursting orgasm, yet your mind pondered on the reasons as to why his heart was pounding so profusely against your spinning head. Your hand splayed against his chest, as you peered up at him. “Are you nervous?”

Eddie Munson swallowed thickly. And ignored you completely. “You’re a really dirty fucking girl for playing with yourself like that all alone.” His hands pinched at the sweaty skin of your back, as your face contorted with the creases of confusion at his now unnecessary comment. “But… now you have me, though, right? Gonna play with me always?” Though, any confidence Eddie previously had speaking to you that way was gone under your scrutinizing stare, and you could hear it in the slight quiver of his voice. Because Eddie Munson wasn’t trying to dirty talk you. No, Eddie Munson was trying to seek your desire to want him around.

And you gave it to him. “Yeah.” Free of any sexual suggestion, because Eddie knew you saw through his assertive facade, piercing at his vulnerability and choosing to accept it through the deep breath of relief of his nose.

With his tongue swiping at the surrounding areas of his lips, you assisted his clean-up, thumbing at the gleam that coated his chin, subsequently letting the burden of his heavy head fall into your gentle hands. “Y’know, I see you a lot at parties- like, more than just us doing deals, I see you.” He cleared his throat. “And I’ve had this thing. This, uh, really big thing for you for a long time now, Y/N. A-And I know it’s your friends dragging you to these parties, but, I dunno, when I see you you just look so… meek, I guess, but like in a good way. Like, this whole elegance you got to you.”

Both you and Eddie stumbled into soft giggles at his boyish articulation, trying to grasp the concept of feelings from a man who’s never been graced with the excitement of committed reciprocation. But there was one thing for certain, Eddie Munson was damn sure trying this time. “Wouldn’t necessarily call myself elegant.” You chuckled.

“No, but you are.” He earnestly protested. “Y’know, you show up, not even wanting to, not saying a word, just keeping to yourself, and everyone just looks at you- notices you.”

In a town of Stacy Withers, Chrissy Cunninghams, Lucy Colemans, and Courtney Kellers, that felt like a big, fat lie smeared in your face. You brushed the stinging sentiment with quiet laughters of pain. “No one notices me, Eddie-”

“I notice you, Y/N.” He urged you to see, hands molding onto your body for fear of you not seeing what he gets to so lovingly see. His lips landed upon your cheek, brush-like strokes, dragging his affection to the canvas of your face, before a devout kiss seared your mouth to his. The swelling muscles of his arms squeezed to tighten around your back, savoring your being, and exploding when your sweater-clad arms mimicked his fervor around his neck, experiencing first-hand what was Eddie Munson’s first requited love. “Just to be here,” his lips spoke against yours, pausing to kiss away the ache that fell constant when your tongue wasn’t dancing upon his, “playing with you,” your mouths clicked with the slobber of his spit, ridden with the tart honey of your pussy juices, the same ones beginning to sog the stitching of his jeans, “just cracking that armor you got on, it’s heaven on Earth for me.” Your lips strung apart, as your thumbs soothed over his chasing movements, caressing the beating pulse point of his neck. But where you smiled, Eddie continued to try to kiss your upturn beam. “You’re not kissing me, why aren’t you kissing me?” He whined, trying to pull a pucker out of you. “Just smiling, aren’t you?”

You nodded. “Yeah,” giggling against his hungry lips.

“As pretty as you are smiling, I need you kissing me, baby.” Eddie playfully admonished with a hefty squeeze to your hip in a puerile way of presenting his frustration.

“It’s just,” late nights of perfecting the solos of various guitar sequences allowed your fingertips to skim over the delicate purpling of his under eyes, “I don’t know, Eddie, the night has just been really shitty, and you’ve somehow managed to make it a lot better.”

“Probably because I gave you one hell of an orgasm.” This time you’ll allow his refusal to accept the complimenting sincerity of your words, masking the mush of giddiness inside him with a comment of sex, because at least this one made you laugh in his hold.

“And other things, Eddie.” But there you were to peel that mask away, and dump your kindness of wanting him all over his walls. “You gave me other things.”

A building appreciation for yourself.

The cynicism of his eyes jumped hurdles to search for any fibbery he may have found himself trapped into, but you were so warm. To the touch, your skin sent his hands aflame with sparks of desire from the true benignity of your being. Warm eyes, warm lips, warm heart, working to secure a blanket of security over his shoulders from the sheets of coldness both of you have been offered by those who cared too little for your wellbeing. “Y/N, I need to tell you something.” His mouth moved without thought, as his body grew sore of ignoring the very thing it wanted: you. “Look, I’m just gonna jump right in, and say it, I want you to be mine- I want to be your boyfriend.” His eyes bounced around the brightening features of your face, creasing with lines to make room for the smile that enamored his chest. “But first I gotta prove to you.”

“Prove to me?” You gently prodded, mind working overtime to control your hands from balling the fabric of his shirt from uncontained excitement.

“See, I kinda just got this thing in my head, y’know, that I gotta prove my worth to you-”

“Eddie-”

“No, I know it sounds bad, but really, it’ll just be for my own peace of mind.” He assured you with the earnestness of his voice soothing the concern you were about to tackle to confirm Eddie Munson was, in fact, enough. “I know it might not be the biggest deal to you, but I just wanna be able to take care of you- like, please you. Make sure I can make you cum.” He whispered into your face.

You wondered where he was for the last five minutes, somehow forgetting the euphoria he had just pulled from you with the sole use of his tongue. “Didn’t- I’m sorry, I don’t mean to laugh, but didn’t you already… just do that?”

“I mean make you cum l-like couples do.” He bashfully iterated, eyes falling down, as if he hadn’t spoken the dirtiest things to you before. Though, perhaps, the beginning stages of what would blossom into a loving relationship had the boy suddenly at the age of fourteen, wondering when that momentous occasion of a first girlfriend would come. Having sex a year later surely doubled the probability, though Nicole Summers wasn’t exactly one that stuck around to find out. “Won’t exactly feel too great if the only way I can get my girlfriend off is by one single way. Let me prove to you that I can be good for you.”

“Quite presumptuous of you to believe I would even say yes to you asking me out.” You’d a hundred percent say yes.

Eddie smiled, before the strength of a sole arm entrapped you soundly against his chest, as his torso dropped forward to lay back against the plushness of your bed. Before a sharp moan could elicit the concern of your parents, Eddie brought forth his mouth to yours, once his bulge caught a steady rhythm against your buzzing clit. “Don’t think,” his hot breath concocted with yours in the heated makeout, “I got to see your tits.” Too neglected for your liking, your sweater found itself bunched under your chin, under glowing lamp lights that shadowed your peaked nipples. “Fuck me, pretty girl, just too,” a kiss to your valley, “ fucking,” a kiss to your breast, “perfect.” Eddie Munson swallowed your pert bud whole.

“Mm, that’s so nice.” You quietly mewled, with polished fingernails delicately weaving through the tousled curls of his head, sweaty and dampened from a whirlwind of nightly activities.

His hands groped at the fat, squeezing them together to tongue at your nipples, harsh flicks that had you arching into his face. “Just too fucking beautiful for this world.” He nuzzled into your chest, his nose flaring hard to inhale the sweet scent of your perfume, crisp and clean just for him to lose himself in.

“Are you going to fuck me now?” A guttural groan burrowed its way out of Eddie’s throat, crawling forward to shove kisses along your cheek that had your head pressing into the softness of your pillow.

“Not gonna worry about your folks?” When the Indianapolis Colts saw a hopeless comeback of being seven to twenty-seven against the Dallas Cowboys, your father knew to save him the anger of witnessing another pass interference with a click of a button that blackened the screen; a definitive call for the night. The heavy steps of your father’s movements followed along the stairs, wood creaking with the shift of his weight to bring him amongst the bedroom doors of the second floor. One look at your door. As every night would go, a quick knock at your door would allow your father entry into your room, hopefully catching you in that green gunk of a facemask you’d like to smear on your face, to provide your father the perfect joke to hear that loving, “dad, stop!” But given the crotchety tone of your previous engagement, your father guessed he’d follow the the statement if his gifted ‘#1 DAD’ mug, and leave you for the night. Embarrassing you will have to wait for Saturday morning’s event. And off to bed he went.

You hadn’t even realized your luck, allowing Eddie Munson to bruise your neck, oblivious to the predicament you slid by. “We can be quiet.” You pleaded, running your legs along his to feel the scratch of his itchy jeans, desperate to receive any and all sensations against your exfoliated skin.

“Open your legs for me more.” Your thighs pried open to his body, sanctioning him the authority to squeeze all he could to bring lines of tingles to your core. “Good girl, feels so fucking good to finally be touching you. Your plug in good?” Sitting snug between your cheeks, where a sticky stream of your cream pooled down your ass, bringing an extra shine to the gem of your plug.

“Mhm, feels nice.” You dug into the sheets of your bed, hips pivoting forward to the chase of Eddie’s thumb massaging into the dough of your inner thighs, hoping they’d make their move to examine your pussy with the prying of his curious fingers.

“Just wanna make sure you’re comfortable ‘s all.” He mumbled. A hand invading the crease of your thigh and hip had him softly chuckling to himself; quiet guffaws of disbelief to the radiating fever warmth that was congenial from the suffocation of your meaty thighs.

Your bitten lips twisted into a pout. “Why are you laughing at me?”

“Not laughin’ at you, baby.” He laughed. Eyeroll. “Just love that pussy heat, y’know?” Eddie callowly smiled, bringing forth a burn to your cheeks, as your watched wrinkles of titillation annex his face from the sheer look of your natural body. “I dunno, guess it kinda makes my head a little bigger knowing she’s waiting for me.” He became delirious on the hypnotics of your moving hips. “Fuck, want me to touch you, pretty girl?”

You were falling desperate under his command. Your nails dug their crescent shapes into his hand, skin flooding with the pumping veins from the stinging rush, an urgent call to have him finally give in. “Please, Eddie, been waiting too long.”

“Ah-ah, have some fucking manners first, not gonna get it that easily without asking nicely.” He tortuously tantalized with the coming of his hand beginning to lightly rake the wisps of your manicured pubes. A whine of despair was all he was met with, nothing but your hips attempting to gyrate his hand to your needy clit. “C’mon, don’t get all greedy on me, baby, remember this is about you, you’ll get it all eventually. Just need you to feel everything as much as possible. Let me just rub the outside; up and down.” The weight of his fingers interfered with the glue of your slick, now pulling at your pussy lips to showcase the rawness of your cunt, strung by webs of your syrup that had him itching to shove his tongue in once more. “And maybe, I’ll just take my finger,” his pointer, pushed out ever so lightly to tickle the wet skin below your pussy, before the rigid callouses dragged up to spark the nerves of your puffy labia, catching a rub to your erecting clit, “and touch you whenever I feel like it.”

Your breath became caught in strings of gasps. “Eds.” Purring with delight at the tease of his finger brushing at your impulses of sensation. “Please, please, can I have you?”

“Just wanted to see that sexy fucking smile you do when you get all excited.” Eddie admired, reveling in the twinkle that bedecked your face to light up from the touch of his fingers. “You are so fucking hot, man.” Mumbling to himself, his head refuting the belief of this being reality. But your body moved with the liveliness of feelings, your voice rang with melodies of harmony, and your smell infused his skin with the sweetness of sugar and oils; no matter how hard Eddie Munson’s eyes welded shut with dubiety, there was no dying the realness of a woman before him. “Wanna play a little game with you, baby.”

“A game?” Your voice softly upped in review of him, as he climbed over with a heavy hand turned soft to pet your head with loving strokes that matched the brief attachment of his lips to yours.

“Yeah, just a little one, nothing to worry about, just love seeing your face n’ everything.” He vaguely detailed, letting your mind lose itself to the softness of his peppered kisses. “First, you gotta any names you wanna call me: master, sir, daddy?”

Eddie watched your eyes shy away from his brashness, adorably being unable to endure the heat of his words. “Um,” your teeth pinched into your lips, “I-I think sir’s kinda nice.” You timidly admitted, only ever divulged by the encouragement of Eddie’s affection.

And he smiled against your lips, dragging his devotion to your cheek, temple, and forehead. “I think it’s kinda nice, too.” From you? Anything would have his body stirring. Eddie abruptly sat up from your body, his mangled hair briefly frizzing from the overhead reach of his shirt, that left his torso blank of any band tee he’d previously adorned. His abdomen came to light as a soft tummy lined with the harsh crevices of flexed muscles in a strive to show off a physique he thought would look best for you. But your warmhearted hand relaxed the strain of his stomach with a single stroke to his naval, sending shockwaves with every graze against his happy trail.

In the midst of pulling away the worn leather belt from the clinking metal buckle, your words swiftly halted his movements. “You’re very pretty, Eddie.”

His head bowed, soft laughter coming through the nostrils of his nose, as he shook his head with a smile that adamantly won over his face, despite a hefty attempt of biting his lip to keep it down. “Feel like I should be the one telling you that, look at you.”

“Would it be so wrong for you to hear the truth, too?” A smile so pure, it shot straight to his heart, causing a speed bump to the rhythmic beating of his chest.

His cheeks darkened with vulnerability. “I- yeah, you’re really about to fucking get it…” both of your soft laughter mingled into the air, as he tugged the length of leather from his belt loops, “…and thank you.” His lips pressed to your inner knee, whilst undoing his pants. But then, he paused. Eddie Munson had not even the slightest idea of how easily you were able to undress before him. Perhaps, it simply fell down to the principle of the matter that Eddie Munson was already head over heels crazy about you before you ever spoke to him. He’d like to thank Chrissy Cunningham- or, actually, whatever stress it was she was enduring for being the sole reason why she went seeking him that fateful Friday afternoon. Now, he understands the grossness of that sentiment, but, truthfully, as an aspiring entrepreneur, the problems of your clientele surely become the profit of your business. And while he wasn’t exactly looking to better this capitalist venture, it did, in fact, lead him to you. Standing in the back, watching reddening leaves fall to the ground, under the guise of being your friend’s lookout. C’mon, that rotting bench hadn’t seen company for years, Chrissy Cunningham was merely weary of his presence and needed backup. But gladly so, as for once, someone’s uncalled for judgment allowed him the privilege of staring at their pretty friend. So excuse him for suddenly falling insecure about the look of his body. You were quite literally everything to Eddie Munson. Would he be for yo-

“It’s okay.” What? “I want to see you, Eddie.” You smiled so perfectly.

Without notice, stirs of anxiety turned into fluttering butterflies in his belly. And Eddie Munson smiled back. Following the squeaks of your bed, he headed off, taking a hold of what was his pants and boxers into a tight grip, and finding the confidence to rid himself of any further clothing. Springing from confinement, seven inches of weight bobbed against his naval with a smack, as you relished in the sight of his cock with bulging veins that strained to pump blood to his scarlet, mushroom tip. Any concerns about the appearance of his area abruptly left his rampant mind, after witnessing the dragging pull of your plump lips opening for your mouth to widen in awe. Your thighs rubbing in heat, a desperate attempt to satiate that rubescent, needy clit that thudded with tingles from the mere sight of him naked.

Yeah, nothing to worry about- in fact, quite a large inflation to his ego. “Decent enough, huh?” His lips twisted with a sneer.

A deprived “mhm” moaned its way out of you.

Rushing to place himself between the warmth of your legs, Eddie positioned his cock to sit heavy against your tummy. His large balls of cum became immersed with the slick of your pussy, as his velvet skin rubbed against your drenched folds to fully show you the length of his member; nudging it to your belly button, whilst the chaos of his pubic hairs titillated your thighs. “This game, baby, the only thing with it is that you can only cum when I tell you.” His eyes kept a close watch of your rippling stomach with every smack of his cock he caused. “You understand?”

“Yes, I understand.” You sighed, becoming antsy with the tickle on your abdomen from the sheer weight of his dick.

“That’s the right fucking answer,” he darkly chuckled, “just gonna start playing with you, pretty girl.” His hand directed the fat tip of his cock to butt at your clit, forcing your hips to jolt awake with the electricity of pressure against your sensitive nub. “Just like that, you fucking like that, don’t you?”

“M-More, please.” You clawed at your bed sheets, stressing the material with every rub of his length against your cunt.

“Nah, baby, gonna treasure this, take it nice and slow.” He agonized, sucking in breaths with every tense of his balls, as you brought pulsating tingles to his body by doing nothing, but laying pretty. “Fuck, you really do something to me, whatever you got going on is doing a fucking number on me, sweetheart.” Saying all the right things to you, his words shot straight to your pussy, making it impossible to hold back your soft moans. “Honestly, baby, not really one to talk about my feelings, I guess, but you- everytime I come by knockin’ on your door, I just get these nerves n’ shit. Gotta talk to myself, too,” he husky laughter pierced so sexily, “honestly, like ‘damn, gotta pull yourself together, can’t let her pretty ass see you like this.’” Eddie’s cock dragged through your folds, separating strings of wetness to marinate on your raw cunt. “And I just wanted to kiss you for the longest, wanted to be right here playing with this fucking pussy.”

“I want you, fuck.” You heaved, hips chasing an itch he refused to have you revel in. “Always want you, Eddie.”

His cock spurred excitedly. “Shit, sweetheart, can’t say things like that to me, fuck.” Eddie’s tip ran through your slit, the swollen head now prodding at your hole, just a first glimpse of the stretch you were about to endure. “God, just having me lay here with you, seeing you, hearing you, touching you, it’s the greatest thing ever. Does that feel good baby? Like me teasin’ you?”

“Yes, sir, please, Eddie.” You hummed, trailing a high that was building too slowly for your liking. “Want more.”

“Mm, really like hearing you say that, love your pretty, little voice.” Eddie’s free hand dropped by your head, supporting his weight to hover over you, letting his unruly hair cascade a waterfall around you. “As a matter of fact, you should speak up. Tell me you wanna be a good girl for me.” So close, his cock was barely grazing the entrance of your cunt, all before tortuously leaving your warmth to dissipate that spark in your body. And up above, Eddie was enjoying the show of your contorting face of frustration. “C’mon, you can say it.”

“I wanna be your good girl, sir.” You pleaded, taking a grasp around his supporting wrist to help find your rhythm against his teasing dick. “I promise, I’m your good girl, just let me have it.”

“Yeah, you wanna be my good girl.” He mocked, aligning his slick head of precum and your arousal to your clenching hole that oozed more wetness. “Here’s the thing, you’re already mine, so who am I to deny you- mm, fuck!”

Falling chest to chest, your nails clawed up his back at the burning sensation of his girth breaching your seizing walls. Eddie’s forehead dropped to yours, as the mixture of both your hot breath confined what little space was left between your gaping lips. “Slow, slow!” You urged him, as his bangs crumpled against your head with a fervent nod to listen to your pleads. Every clasp of your cunt had him harshly breathing through his nose, fighting the onslaught of sensations that were subsequently bringing him closer to the edge far faster than anticipated. “Uh! Fuck, you’re so big!” Inch by inch, your body was giving way to the pleasure of his deliberate intrusion, welcoming him in with a warm hug from your cunt.

Nearly lacerated by his nails, Eddie hoped the balling of his fist would defuse the overwhelming feelings churning in his chest, but suddenly being submerged balls deep into your body had his mouth spewing with all he felt for you. “Fuck, you really don’t understand what you do to me.” He whined against your face. “First time I saw you, I didn’t know what to do with myself. I don’t really get in situations like these often- hell, fucking ever, but you! I just had to do whatever I could to get you. Honestly, it kinda pissed me off.” Eddie breathlessly chuckled against your lips, driving his greedy hips to drag his cock along your walls. “Holy s-shit, fuck, how the hell was I letting some girl have this affect on me. But you’re not just some girl, Y/N. God, mm, you’re fucking everything.”

Leave it to Eddie Munson to confess his feelings from the tightness of your pussy.

“Eddie!” His cock found no trouble in abusing that spot within you that had your legs occupying his waist like a lifeline, toes curling from the rapture that trembled your legs. Your hands forced his head to your lips, swallowing each other's moans to consume the desperation of night. Where spit messily slicked your lips, a ring of cream surrounded Eddie’s cock that smear the wetness against your pussy.

“Fuck, just wanna do everything for you.” His lips dragged against yours, bodies bumping with every pound of skin slapping Eddie caused with his dick. “Got your holes all plugged up, nasty, little fucking thing.” Pursuing that desperate high, your pelvis began meeting his with an impassioned gyrate; the swollen head of his cock bruising your g-spot, all whilst the tickle of his pubes itched at your inflamed clit. “You wanna come, baby- fuck, I know you do!” His stomach clenched with every squelch your pussy created under the squeezing hold of his dick’s continuous reentry.

Licking and rubbing your cunt to a tender mess of cum and slick had your second orgasm of the night pummeling quickly under Eddie’s intrusive cock, and you were pleading to see white stars from the fucking of his body to yours. “Yes, please, please, sir! Fuck, you’re gonna make me cum, you’re gonna- mm!”

Sweat coated your rubbing bodies together, where you nipples abraded against his to have you wailing with all sensations, yanking that orgasmic string within you. “Squeezing down on my fucking cock, yeah, baby, you can cum, but not until I say so.”

Eddie Munson was torturing himself when his body stilled inside you, but seeing your desperate face twist into a crying mess was far better than dumping inside you within the first five minutes. “No, no, sir, please!” Your hips attempted to fuck themselves deeper onto his cock, but Eddie’s harsh hand imprinted itself to the fat of your curves, holding your down from any endeavors to cumming.

“Hey, hey, listen, listen, sweetheart.” He took a hold of your jaw, forcing your eyes upon his. “Remember, you’re my good girl; gotta be good for me.” All along this is what Eddie wanted, turning your mind into deprived mush to cloud those overcrowding thoughts that hurt your little head. And he watched it transpire before him, seeing you desperately nod to his words, completely at his mercy with full trust to care for you. “I know I’m being mean, baby, but you gotta believe me when I say this will feel so good.” His puffing breath fanned your face. “I’m so proud of you, so proud of you getting all that shit off your chest, so proud of you letting me play with your holes, being this perfect, dirty girl for me. Now, I want you to come, okay, just gonna play with your pussy-”

“Ah, fuck!” Your body jolted under the tight, circling rubs of his rough fingers against your clit.

“Sh, sh, don’t want your folks disturbing us, baby.” His devilish sneer taunted your face. “Just tell me you wanna come, okay? Say it.”

Your lips incoherently spewed out. “Iwannacomesir-”

“Slower, pretty girl, slower.” Eddie demanded, with each pinch to your buzzing pearl fueling that plucking string of hot cum inside you to burst.

“I want to cum, sir.” Your trembling hands secured his hot cheeks to bring him forth, as your lips whispered against his with tiny kisses. “I… want to… cum, sir.”

Eddie smiled against your lips, before planting a fat sucker on them. “Good, now shut the fuck up, and you better listen to me.” With your heads bound closely, all of the world became lost in the homey environment within Eddie’s curtain of hair. Where his two-in-one shampoo clashed with your coconut hair mask, and the smell of sex fermented the humid air of hot breath, Eddie began hammering his cock into your sopping pussy, with spurts of wetness jumping to souse your connecting bodies. “You are so fucking gorgeous.” He huffed. “Anyone can see that plain as day- so fucking incredible. You deserve the fucking world, deserve to be taken care of, and I swear, baby, I swear on my life to be that man.” Eddie moaned into your ear, his wet lips exciting every nerve in your body with hot whispers, that had you mutilating his skin with streaks of unbearable red. “Just feel me playing with you, pleasing you, only you, pretty girl- f-fuck! Tell me I’m yours, fucking tell me.”

Your legs tightened around his backside, driving the heels of your feet to the tiny plush of his ass, forcing him deeper into your cunt. With your hands caressing the beauty of his face, you managed to find the strength to open your screwed shut eyes, and meet the round ones that were pouring desperation into yours. “You’re mine, Eddie.” Spoken so delicately from the hoarseness of your throat, whilst the filthiest actions were occurring to your body. “You’re all mine, Eddie. No one else. Just you.” Sealing it with a searing kiss that had him sobbing groans onto your tongue, in a heated mix with your whines.

“When I tell you, cum for me, okay, baby? Ten.” His heavy hand forced a grip to your leg, hiking them higher for an angle unbeknownst to you, leaving you to squeal into the crevice of his neck. “Nine… eight… seven, love how fucking greedy your body is, almost there, my pretty girl.” Eddie’s balls were seizing with twitches, as his engorged cock was building up a hot load that was on the precipice of flooding you. “ Six, look right at me, five… four, wanna see your pretty face when you finish.” Too much pressure was mounting on your cervix, as your body began losing itself to the thrills of an impending orgasm. “Three… two, tell me you wanna cum.”

“I wanna cum!”

“Louder!”

“I wanna cum on your cock!” Singing it to his ears with cries of harmony had his body cramping with pleasure.

“One, fucking do it, cum for me!” Your back arched with the snap of your orgasm, a scorching gush of creamy white invading his cock with unfathomable squeezes and squelches. “Fuck, fuck, fuck… f-fuckkkk!” A hose of his sizzling seed fucked itself into you with stuttering hips that had you wailing into his buff shoulder, nails bloodying his alabaster skin with reds of passion, as your bodies convulsed in the aftershocks of pure hedonism. “T-There you go, fucking ride it out, sweetheart, ride it out with me.” His muscles flexed under the intense explosion of his bust; beads of musky sweat falling down the length of his body to infuse the creamy cum that matted his pubic hair. “God, you’re so fucking sexy, so fucking beautiful.”

“Auugh!” Your fogged mind whined in the lost stars of white that flashed your vision.

“It’s okay, my baby, just relax, you’re alright.” Eddie brought you back to reality, peppering kisses of adoration along your perspired skin, cementing every word he ever uttered to you in the heat of the moment. A brief cry of discomfort from his cock pulling out had him comforting your body with gentle caresses, all while witnessing the artistry that was a pearly concoction of both your hot cum painting the pink jewel of your butt plug with a filthy iridescent. “Fuck, you really are fucking mine, Y/N.”

Your soft voice ripped through the sounds of heavy breaths, as your body felt like waves of crashing water under his touch. “Yeah.”

“Yeah?”

You weakly laughed. “Yeah, you can definitely be my boyfriend.” As if that was ever a question. Your gentle mewls echoed into his ears, as his thick fingers made the move to smoothly twist out your butt plug from your needy hole, that felt the need to keep its clamping clutch onto it. Eddie swore under his breath, falling in love with the winking gape of your asshole. While a clean-up was surely at hand, your beckoning voice had him dropping your toy to lay by your side. His lips found solace in the company of your own, as he brought your sticky being of sweat and cum close, snug under the protective arms of his body. “Yeah, I’m your boyfriend, and you’re my girlfriend.” Eddie Munson’s lips upturned to a damning smile that had you clinging to his closeness for the rest of the night.

#stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x fem!reader

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chrollohearttags · 7 months

Text

face to face • nanami kento

synopsis: a steamy rendezvous with your boss and lover becomes even more complicated when he decides to answer a phone call from the last person you wanted him to.

content + themes: infidelity/affairs, backshots, hair pulling, toxic relationship with reader + gojo, alcohol use, praise kink, slight foot play, squirting, pussy eating, pleasure dom nanaminnn (and he’s a lil toxic too), ofc reader calls him daddy

word count: 3.5K

📝: so this lil hc is gonna take on a mind of its own I see 🌚 LMAO y’all enjoy though. Like I’m really ready to make an entire story out of this. Tell me if y’all are team Gojo or team Nanami.

── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.─── ── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.

“I’ll be back in a bit. Don’t wait up for me..”

the text bubble going from lime green to bright blue in a matter of seconds as it was delivered..the contact on the other end more than likely wouldn’t even acknowledge it until hours later, you were certain of it. All but betting on the fact that it’d be left on read as well. A clear sign of how pretentious and petty they were..the culprit in question was none other than your boyfriend of three years, Satoru Gojo. A term you used rather sparingly nowadays; due in part to the fact that he hadn’t been much of one in the past year or so. To the majority of others around you, your union could be described as nothing more than mere goals. Your friends would constantly talk the two of you up and confess that they were jealous of the fact that you had bagged such a handsome, fine, sweetheart of a boyfriend. However, as the age old cliche stated..looks were rather deceiving and behind closed doors, your relationship was in utter turmoil. Arguments by day and steamy make up sex by night; doing very little to compensate for the pain he put you through. Hearing stories about how he was at the club with this girl or caught texting that one. Granted, you knew he was the quintessential playboy type when you first made his acquaintance and although he promised you were different, vowing to prove so if you gave him the chance..it was merely another one of his many lies. It didn’t take long before the chivalrous facade dropped and he revealed his true colors. There wasn’t much he had to offer nowadays and quite frankly, you were going through the motions; living as mere roommates if anything.

however, you had begun to find solace elsewhere. In the arms of another man, who just so happened to be much closer than anyone would ever expect! No more were the nights of crying yourself to sleep when you were cradled in the arms of none other than your boss and newfound lover:

“Kento…hi, baby…”

“(Y/N), my love. You look absolutely stunning. Please..come in.”

Nanami Kento, the newly appointed chairman and chief operating officer of SorceTech, the biomedical engineering conglomerate that you had been employed at for the better part of three years. A Fortune 500 company with an excellent reputation and it couldn’t have been in better hands in terms of leadership. Kento was a man of few words but one of integrity, promise and strong conviction. He had vowed to serve this company to the best of his ability and ensure that every employee was treated with dignity and respect under his authority. Not only that, he planned to implement all sorts of helpful changes and he stuck true to that. Regardless of the adversity, he stood on his words at all times. It was just a few of the redeemable qualities that drew you towards him. And once he appointed you as his faithful executive assistant, it was only a matter of time before that beautiful professional relationship blossomed into something more. The attraction was almost instantaneous..how could it not be when you were so perfect? Hence the reason he didn’t seem to care when you told him you had a boyfriend, especially one that hadn’t treated you with the utmost care and respect. His only response: “my apologies, I figured that you’d be seeking a husband by now. Three years with no proposal sounds like a mere waste of time to me.” It was that sentiment alone that solidified the fact that Kento..regardless of technicalities, was your true soulmate.

so whilst Satoru was out doing God knows what on this lovely Friday evening, here you were enjoying the company of the dashing blonde, who had so gently taken your hand as he ushered you over the threshold of his high rise condominium. Placing a soft peck atop the knuckles before pulling you into his barreled chest. Sporting an oceanic blue suede robe and matching slippers, Kento curled you in his grasp and initiated a brief makeout session, one that had your heart thumping through your flesh. It was the same sensation he invoked every time you two met like this. The sheer thrill of being in love with someone who reciprocated it but the possibility of being caught also lingered on your mind. He knew there was no time to squander, so without any more words being exchanged, he’d deepened those pecks..slowly and delicately gliding those spaghetti straps of your silk dress, peppering the skin with kisses on the way down. The scent of vanilla wafting through his nostrils as he inhaled your perfume. Soon, his lips would make home against the sensitive crook of your neck..where he had placed kisses several times. Slowly but surely, you two became one, right there in the comfort of his living room. It was something he’d never grow tired of, even if you were meeting under less than ideal circumstances. Naturally, he would’ve loved it if you were coming over as his woman and not one he had had to share. Especially when he knew the other man didn’t deserve you whatsoever. He was more than aware of Satoru’s reputation. Hell, he knew him long before you did so it baffled Kento when he popped up with someone like you on his arm. He knew it could only lead to disaster in the long run because he was a pretentious manwhore. Only considering himself in the grand scheme of things…

hence why any guilt absolved when he got you alone and licked every inch of your skin, undressing you along the way. He knew you wouldn’t or couldn’t leave him anytime soon nor would he ask such a thing. Old habits were hard to break and when you spent three long years living with and curating a life with someone, up and leaving wasn’t always a menial task. There were so many times you wanted to walk away, leave and just never look back. But he dragged you back in..even though the feelings were no longer there, you couldn’t part ways. So whilst you were in his arms, he’d make your nights much easier. Bringing you joy and true love when possible.

“I’ve missed you..” “You just saw me at work, Kento.” Giggling into his ear as his hands grabbed your breasts and made subtle squeezes. Even so, it had been a few hours too long since he’d felt you and that wouldn’t suffice. “And I thought about you all day long.” By this time, your bra had hit the floor and they were exposed to the crisp air radiating from the AC. That skin tight ensemble shuffled around your torso and your top half left completely nude. That’s when you’d feel his muscly arm hook around your waist and scoop you into his grasp, prompting you to place your arms on his neck so he could carry to the bedroom. The entire trek there was filled with sloppy, slow pecks..ones that continued as he laid you flat on the mattress, allowing your back to mesh with the cushy linen. Your limbs soon tangled into a heap of passion..touching, caressing and stroking one another’s flesh. Your fingertips lingering on the sides of his smoothly shaven, chiseled jawline whilst his own delicately toyed with your upper body. Running those digits along the curvature of your hips and waist, planting gentle kisses on the way down. But not before suckling on your nipples, just to watch your reaction.

“You always did like when I do that..”

“Yes, I love it..and I love you.”

taunting you with deviant glares and light chuckles as those lips trailed further south, eventually reaching your mound. Where he’d tear away those thin panty strings with his teeth and discard them..it was blatantly obvious that he wasn’t here to play around tonight. He wanted you, needed you even and desperately. It didn’t matter if you’d go back home to your sorry boyfriend afterwards or if you told him you loved him and didn’t mean it. Right now, his one true desire and wish was to please you.

“Yeah? Well I’m a man that believes in actions over words so I’ll be glad to prove just how much….I love you.”

and it was with that declaration, Kento dove head first between your slightly parted thighs. He’d pry them wide open on his way down, licking each one with a long, dredged glide until he reached that center. Which was already glistening with slick..just awaiting his touch. Whilst at work today, you couldn’t keep your mind off of him! His cologne, his attire..all of it was getting you hot and bothered. You wanted to snatch him up from his meeting and ride him to kingdom come, right there atop his desk. You even wore something extra revealing just to capture his attention and he’d certainly noticed because when you bent down to retrieve a pen, he’d run a hand up your leg and squeeze your asscheek lightly. It was the subtle flirtation throughout the day that made these steamy late night hookups all the more fun!

“Here, give me your hands, my love.” Giving you a tone of absolute reassurance that he’d take care of you. Clasping your fingers together as one, (y/n) kept those legs to either side and allowed him room to maneuver. Kento loved when you kept your heels on. It was something so sensual about the YSL heels and diamond anklet he gifted you, drudging across his back as he ate you out. He’d start with gentle kitten licks; getting his bearings before going full fledged. He’d part those fat little pussy lips his tongue, letting the tip graze your clit, which made you tremble. It didn’t take long before you’d hear the sound of slurping noises arise from his mouth. He’d snatch his left hand away for just a moment to pull them further apart and dive nose deep into that flesh. Before proceeding to let you clench it for comfort once more. He’d latch onto that swollen little bud and suck until that slick began to dribble down his chin. A sloppy, nasty mess of his saliva and your arousal mixing around in his mouth. He was absolutely enamored with pleasing you..it was his one and only priority, to ensure that you were satisfied. He’d stay down there, bobbing his head up and down until you began to convulse, attempting to push away but you’d only wind up grinding yourself against his face.

“Aaaah! Ken….I’m gonna come, baby..”

But to your dismay, he couldn’t allow that just yet. As much as he wanted to see you reach your ultimate bliss, he wasn’t coming up until he felt like it. Switching to a combination of fingers and lips, Kento would work your little cunt over until he felt that tight squeeze before tugging those digits out and placing them into your mouth. Hoping to pacify you for a moment. The quintessential give and take he was working towards drove you insane. “You taste so fucking good, my love. I can never get enough of you.” He’d resume his teasing, now with that thumb pad pressing to your clit and tracing tiny circles. He’d rotate it around until he felt you clamping down and that’s when he’d allow you to finally reach your peak.

“..come.”

the only word he’d utter before you wet him up with a stream of juices, that he’d happily drink. If that philandering asshole wasn’t man enough to appreciate you, he’d gladly take on the role! Still coming down from that climatic high, (y/n) trembled against the crisp white sheets, crying from the immense pleasure. He’d brush the side of your face whilst feeding you soft kisses to calm you down. Tasting yourself with slow pecks…moaning into your mouth. He was so infatuated with you, loving every moment that you got to spend together. In a quick, swift motion; his frame pressed gently against your own, Kento would lean up only by a hair’s breadth to ease inside of you, mumbling against your lips to stare into your eyes as he became one with you. “Look at me, baby. Look at me..”

Whispering softly with a sweet tone. He always made you feel so safe and secure when you made love. A lot more than what could be said for the man you laid next to every night. Kento eventually eased himself inside..tip and then carefully, inch by inch, you became one. Your back arching immediately.. “..oh God. Kent..take me, please.” Pleading with your arms and legs coiling his entire frame. Eventually, he’d feed you slow, deep strokes. Each one calculated and careful to ensure that you felt the pleasure you desperately deserved. After about five or so thrusts, he’d shift his head for your faces to meet. It was his favorite view in the entire world..staring at literal perfection whilst being inside what felt like heaven. “..you’re so warm..and tight, angel.” Admitting in a breathy huff, gritting his teeth and trying to maintain his composure. He couldn’t understand for the life of him why that fucking idiot would ever treat you less than that of a goddess, less known be unfaithful. Not when your pussy was this damn good..was he insane?! Regardless, Kento enjoyed his time wisely with you. “But you’ll let me stretch it out, won’t you? He pushed that idiot out of his mind and pressed his cock further between your spongy walls..even drumming up sloshing noises; your slick forming a thin membrane between his thighs. “Fuck…yes!—that dick feels so good.” Confessing in a soft whimper, crying from the intense pleasure. To which he’d quickly quell you..gliding a thumb underneath your eyes to wipe the tears away. Placing that thumb into your mouth shortly thereafter.. “..shh..it’s okay. Don’t cry. I know it’s a lot but you take me so well. You’re doing so good, baby. Just relax.” Praising you without so much as a second thought. It came naturally when you made him feel like a new man. Pressing a palm to your forehead, Kento glared into your eyes before shoving his tongue into your mouth for another kiss. Legs coiling his back as those hips rammed into your center. The collision of your flesh causes a recoil and clapping noises to fill the room. He could feel himself twitching and pulsating inside of that pussy..throbbing and waiting to burst..those feelings were like none other. And needless to say, your boss was loving every single, solitary second. Removing those shoes as he noticed the tension in your legs, Kento began to knead his fingers into your calves to ensure they didn’t cramp up from the constant motion. Your anklet dangling by his ear and his wristwatch refracting from the light whilst he rubbed on your feet.

“You’re so close..so am I, sweetheart. But I don’t want to come just yet. I still need to savor you a little while longer.”

blurting out the sentiment while gliding his lips over your ankle, toes and top of your foot. His tongue delicately glides over them, popping a couple into his mouth to suck on. If this man didn’t stop, you were going to be living in his fucking skin! But shortly after, you’d feel his already sluggish thrusts completely halt and that’s when he’d pull out. Prompting you to turn over and arch your back. That plump ass was no joke either but if he took one more glance at that gorgeous face, nothing would’ve stopped him from nutting all in that pussy. This way, he had a tad bit more control. Once you were on all fours, arms underneath your head, he’d tease that throbbing cock against your folds before gliding it back in. Causing you to grip the sheets on instinct. Your face remained buried in the pillowy mattress top when those thrusts resumed. It took only mere seconds to regather his bearings but once he had his pace back, he’d continue fucking you senseless..thrashing you around and watching that ass jiggle with each movement. “G-ahh! Fuck…your body is so beautiful. I can stare at it forever.” Doting on you with that dick nestled deep between your folds. Keeping his palm pressed to the small of your back and ever so gently, slipping his thumb in between our cheeks; eventually pressing into that other aching hole. “God and you’re such a mess..so fucking wet. I won’t be able to hold out much longer.” Layers of silky cream began to form all over that shaft. He couldn’t take much more but he’d persist a bit longer; playing the long game to ensure that you were more than satisfied. Clawing into the crisp linen, (y/n) rolled your hips and threw your ass back against him, meeting each of those strokes. “Oooh shit..you’re fucking me so good, daddy. Thank you so much.” Crying out through sucked teeth and trembling lips. Just then, his tempo faltered just a bit from hearing your words. Especially at being called such a name.

“Mmph..don’t tell me that, sweetheart. I might not ever let you leave.”

suddenly, you’d feel a light grasp on your throat and your head tug back before the warmth of his breath cast over your ear. “I mean, you’re mine after all…this pussy, this beautiful body..your heart. It all belongs to me. I don’t care about him..you’re mine. Daddy’s the only one you need.”

reaffirming both you and himself as he sped up momentarily, just enough to bring you right to the edge. It was almost as if his strokes were calculated. Intricately maneuvering inside of you to prod at your spot but not press too hard in hopes of inducing an orgasm. He could hear you whimpering and even asking him for permission to come. “Shh..not yet, not yet.” But he had to wait for the right moment to allow it. And it would seem that the ideal timing would arrive when you heard the faint buzzing of a phone..your eyes were squeezed shut and your face was once again planted in the mattress; completely unaware of what was about to transpire. Hearing a soft chuckle emit from Kento, you didn’t even have time to process what was going on when you felt a hand coiling your hair and pulling your head up.

“But I think now is as good of a time as any..” with you right on the brink of climatic collapse, he’d continue pounding at an almost drill-like speed, imploring you to let go any time you felt like it. To which you didn’t disappoint!..those sheets instantly flooded with your stream of juices. You’d find yourself quivering and convulsing uncontrollably after holding back for so long. “OH MY GOD!—FUCK!” Screaming out in pure bliss, even whimpering as if you had been completely broken. You couldn’t even contain yourself; it was so immensely powerful. But alas, that moment of ecstasy would soon be coupled by the satisfaction of revenge when you’d hear the faint crackling of a secondary voice, yelling and cursing..one that was rather familiar, with a mortified face to match! Having just come to the realization of what your lover was up to, you’d peer down underneath you and see your phone illuminated and in the midst of a phone call. You’d reach for it and attempt to answer but to no avail…it was too late to cover up your tracks. “Satoru! What is it?—“ However, that wasn’t all…you could see a small box in the corner with a photo of your own reflection..but on the main screen?

“Where the fuck are you, (y/n)?! What are you doing?!”

was your very irate and unhappy ‘boyfriend’ Satoru, who had just possibly witnessed something no man would ever want to: his lady getting off at another man’s hands. More so specifically, one he knew personally. But there was no love lost or friendship between the two of them, considering the pain that he had caused you beforehand. So it came as no surprise that Kento was going to take much pride in answering his questions. Cupping you by your throat once more, he’d twist your head around to plant a kiss atop your temple.

“For God sakes, Satoru. Stop yelling. She’s exactly where she should be..with me, where she belongs.”

── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.─── ── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.

@udontknowmegotit @ajii-i @mitsuyasblackwifey @spaceforher @pluto4444 @queendijaaaa @kiiikixo @soanis @23victoria @bleach-your-panties @thabiddie23 @pharaohanubis0 @lunerenzo @prettypink-princesss @buttercupmuffins @iluvmeomm @jujutsualy @poppis-playhouse @nieceeee

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strawhbrrries · 1 year

Text

Cowboy hats.

pairing: dbf!southern!frank castle x afab!reader

summary: five days and five nights without a single word from frank, what an asshole. an asshole who looks too damn good in a cowoy hat.

warnings: age gap (reader is 22, frank is 52), use of pet names, dirty dirty thoughts!!!,unprotected p in v sex!!, praise kink asf, soft frank, frank being an asshole for the first like two thousand words, cowboy hate frank, no mentions of y/n, no descriptions of reader, not proofread

word count: 4015 words

author’s note: end of the road for darlin’ and frankie (probably not, i absolutely will write more, smaller, things for them, but this is the end of the cowgirl series!! I loved writing for them and hope i did them justice!! I hope you guys it enjoy it, mwah

read the first one here, and the second here !

It had been five days, five entire days and nights without speaking to Frank. Not that you didn’t try, you had been texting him. Multiple times. Just to get “read at 2:30” every time. Every. Damn. Time. He brushed you off if you spoke to him in person, ignored your texts, you would soon resort to carrier pigeon. What the fuck happened to Frankie who was calling you his girl? The fucking 180 he pulled was pissing you off. The rational side of you tried to convince yourself he wasn’t your boyfriend, he had made no promises to you, he was free to ignore you all he wanted. No matter how angry it made you. The irrational side didn’t care, he had been inside of you raw, he owes you some explanation. What a fucking little fuckboy move to fucking make.

Ironically, Boyfriend by COIN played through your car. Not now.

“I don’t wanna be your boyfriend,

When you need a little company,

I don’t wanna be your boyfriend,

When there’s not another phone to ring.”

You searched through the passenger seat for your phone once your car was safely stopped at the red light, this was absolutely NOT the song to play. Of all the songs on your playlist, of course it had to be this one. The universe wasn’t done playing cruel jokes on you, it was almost like it wanted to see you suffer just a tiny bit more. A black truck pulled up next to you, in the left turn lane. Frank’s black truck. That Frank was driving. It would take a miracle to save you from driving your car off a cliff, today was testing you and you were losing. He shot you a smile from his driver’s seat, giving you a two finger wave without lifting his hand off the steering wheel.

A smile. The nerve of this guy. The fucking nerve.

The light turned green before you were able to yell all the expletives you knew in all the languages you knew them in. Deep breath in. Deep breath out. You were meeting Tiff at a bookstore for a girls day, she was going to get an earful of what happened five days ago and the fucking nerve he has to act this way.

“I mean, he is fifty. Right? Maybe he’s just not used to dating culture. He had a wife previously, I think, so just talk to him.” Tiff reasoned, tracing her finger up the spine of a book before pulling it off the shelf to read the description on the back.

“Even if dating culture is different, he gave me his number. Said we’d talk later and has given me the coldest shoulder possible. Then has the nerve to smile at me like none of this has happened.” You whined, frustrated that this was even happening. Initially, you had planned to just be pretty and reap the perks of it this summer. Not get hung up on an older man that’s best friends with your dad.

“Does he even know you’re angry? I mean he’s not a mind reader and neither are you, ambush his house when you know he’s there. I don’t think he’d shy away from being alone with you.” She teased, poking your side and placing the book back in its rightful spot on the shelf. “Then, you can set boundaries and what not. Fuck. And make up!”

“I would sooner punch him in that smug attractive stupid fucking face.” You rolled your eyes, knowing deep inside the next time he was in your presence and willing to take you to bed that you would be there. You didn’t know how to say no to him.

“We both know that is the furthest thing from the truth.” Tiff raised her eyebrow at you and cocking her head, daring you to argue about it.

“Shut up, I’m trying to learn to have some self control.” You tried to hide a smile, failing miserably and rolling your eyes instead. “I’ll ambush him later, he better be there or be prepared to feel my wrath.”

“That’s my girl!” She laughed, clapping her hands the best she could with the books in her hands. “Make sure he really understands the anger. The rage!”

To keep true to your word, you drove by his house on the way to yours to see if he was home. He wasn’t. Fucker. You knew it wasn’t intentional but it sure felt that way, because of all days and of all times he wouldn’t be there. However, to your surprise, he was parked in your driveway. You parked in your usual spot and headed inside, stopping right inside the house when you heard the two men inside.

“How was your date the other night?” He went on a date, what the fuck?

“Horrible. She was still hung up on her ex-husband, talked about him all night.” Good, hope every woman you go on a date with does that. Asshole.

“Sorry man, you’ll find someone someday.” Your dad tried consoling him, your anger was bubbling and the next word of this conversation was going to be your breaking point. Did the sex truly mean nothing to him? Did you mean nothing to him? Were you just a quick fuck to get the desire out and then move on?

You closed the front door loudly to announce your presence, walking into the kitchen where said men were sitting at the kitchen table. Frank had his legs spread, hand hanging between them with a beer in his hand. The kicker was, he was wearing a cowboy hat, his hair fluffing out on the side. To add onto the never ending list of things making this, currently insufferable, man so attractive he was wearing some sort of red henley with the top buttons undone so you could see the gold chains decorating his neck.

“Hey daddy!” You smiled at your dad, handing him a book he had mentioned twenty times he wanted to read. Your words caused Frank to clear his throat and sit straighter in the seat, you could play his game much worse than he can.

“What’s the occasion, honey?” He always had weird ways of saying thank you, as in he never really did and would instead pay you back by making your favorite food for dinner tomorrow or ordering a dress you really wanted. You figured it was just how he grew up.

“You deserve it, daddy! You do so much for me and treat me so well! I’m gonna take a shower.” And with that you were off up the stairs, flipping Frank off once you got to a point in the stairs where the wall covered you.

You locked your bedroom door. He didn’t need to come in here and desecrate your room anymore than he already had. If he didn’t have such a big dick and fantastic hands you would’ve murdered him already, why bless bad men with great appendages.

Your mind raked itself for answers, you truly couldn’t come up with one that didn’t end with you not being good enough for him. The date was the trulying baffling part to you, the cold shoulder you could deal with just fine but the date was just cruel. If he didn’t want you he shouldn’t have left his number, shouldn’t have fucked you within an inch of you life, shouldn’t have called you his. He shouldn’t have even read the messages, deleted them and blocked your number. He read them and actively chose to not respond, you didn’t know if it was any worse than just blocking you. If the universe was cruel, Frank castle was worse.

Your door knob jiggled, quite a few times before you heard the sound of boots going downstairs. You knew he would come up here and try to act like it was all peachy keen, like he hadn’t been twisting the knife he placed in your back. Your phone dinged.

I know you heard, at least let me explain.

You scoffed, rolling your eyes at the absolute nerve he has had today.

No.

Darlin’, please.

Fuck off, Frank.

Fucking COIN was right, he didn’t want to be your boyfriend. How fucking foolish could you have been. How could you imagine he’d settle down for a twenty-two year old girl who was related to his best friend. You flopped down on your bed and let out a very long, very needed, scream. The tears started coming, you hadn’t been this emotional in a very long time, the tears you had initially shed over Frank turned into tears over everything you’d bottled up. Your tears comforted you into dreamland. You awoke to four texts from Frank.

It’s not how it seems. Sent 9:30pm

Darlin’ I swear, I had to do it. Sent 10:05pm

Two nights with you has me ready to fill every ocean with blood, sweat, and tears for you so don’t act like that. Sent 5am

Your dad set up the date, I couldn’t not go. Was I supposed to tell him I’d rather be fucking his daughter? Sent 5:30am

It didn’t matter to you that your dad set the whole thing up, you responded with a simple yes and placed your phone back on the nightstand you picked it up from. Men are so stupid, you could think of two ways he could’ve gotten out of the date without you being involved. Still doesn’t explain the five day freeze out, if he had been honest about the date it wouldn’t have mattered . As much. He better come up with the best damn excuse for this shit or you swore you’d never speak to him again.

Frank’s phone dinged in his pocket, he’d been waiting all morning for you to respond. He knew you would, just as you were his vice. He was yours. The second you walked in the kitchen last night it was taking all his self control to not pull you onto his lap, continue his conversation with your dad, trailing his fingers up and down your leg. He knew you were angry with him, you had every right to be, but he didn’t know how to even begin explaining the situation. Your dad was being suspicious, he thought it was odd that Frank spent an extended amount of time in your room the other night, thought it was weird that everytime your name was mentioned Frank’s nostrils flared and his jaw tightened. It was your dad who suggested setting up the date, watched Frank’s face as he brought it up to see if he’d give away anything. Frank was saving you both, he was doing this for you. In some twisted way.

The date happened the night after he slept with you, he felt guilty to have gone behind your back. He didn’t want to see you look so excited to see him when he felt tainted. He didn’t do anything with the woman, opened her car door and moved back her seat but he never once laid a finger on her. Her smile wasn’t as sweet as yours, her laugh not as gentle and filling, and she wasn’t nearly as beautiful. Frank spent most of the date thinking of you and how he wished it was you in front of him, not this woman who couldn’t be bothered to speak of anything besides her ex-husband. He thought she’d get the hint that he was bored, he stopped responding to her questions and was now scanning the restaurant making up stories about the other patrons to pass the time.

He just wanted to be with His cowgirl.

Seeing you in your car yesterday made the guilt twist in his heart, he needed to speak to you. But you didn’t want to speak to him, especially not after what you heard in the house. That’s why when his phone dinged and he had the feeling it was you, his face lifted and he was filled with a warmth only you could give to him. The one word you replied with had made the past five days almost bearable.

You know I can’t do that. Can I see you after work? Please, darlin’

He placed his phone back into his back pocket, taking a deep breath as he awaited your response. God, he hoped you responded. It didn’t matter if you didn’t say a word to him the whole time he explained it, he needed to see you and he needed you to understand why he did what he did. He meant what he said, he’d fill every ocean on the fucking planet with blood, sweat and tears if it meant your happiness. He’d go back to the life he left to ensure your safety.

Fine.

If the rest of the day was the worst day possible he could deal with that, he could deal with anything as long as it meant getting to see you when he got off. He truly didn’t know how you would react or what it meant for the two of you going forward. He could only hope for the best. Whatever that even was.

You spent the rest of the day thinking about what he could possibly explain to you, it was clear that he wasn’t as interested as you thought before. Would you even believe it, whatever his excuse was? Or would you immediately forgive him because it meant he would be back in your life, would you forget it even happened and go back to playing girlfriend. You wanted to forget, to act like it never hurt, but you wanted him to understand how it felt. To be treated like the top of the world and then dumped like you meant nothing.

You wore red.

That was the first thing Frank noticed as you walked up his driveway clad in a flowy red sundress, you remembered his favorite color and the conversation about wearing it the next time you saw him. Forgiveness was in there somewhere, he knew it. You noticed he was wearing that damn cowboy hat again, damn he was playing a hard game.

“Thanks for coming darlin’, I was kinda worried you wouldn’t.” He didn’t stand up from his chair on the porch to greet you, in some way you were kinda glad but you mostly figured it’s because you’re on his porch and everyone can see.

“Yeah, I just hope you’ve got something real good up your sleeve.” You responded bluntly, sitting in the chair next to him and smoothing your dress out. “You’re an asshole, Frankie.’

“I know, I fuckin’ know baby. Just listen, okay? I’ll explain and then you can fuckin’ obliterate me but I need you to listen.” He sat up straighter, reaching to take one of your hands in his, rubbing his thumb across the top.

“We don’t have all night, I suggest you start talking.” He could’ve swore he saw a hint of a smile playing on your lips as you spoke.

“Your dad, I know I can’t blame it all on him. He came to me, after I left your room, and he hinted he was a bit suspicious of us. What he said doesn’t matter, just know he was suspicious. He said he had a date planned for me, thought it would be nice for me to meet a woman ‘my own age’ and gave me the information. Darlin’, if I said no he would’ve caught on the next time I spent more than a minute with you, I did this for us. For you, baby. I didn’t touch her, barely spoke the whole time. She spent more time talking about her ex-husband, I’m not sure she even knew my name,” you giggled at that, she didn’t deserve to know him,”Took her home, didn’t give her my number. Nothin’. I came here and thought of you, all night. Thought about how I was supposed to tell you. I felt gross, and I’ve done bad things darlin’. Bad things.”

“I don’t care what bad things you’ve done, because that’s not you. Not now.” You whispered, taking your free hand and caressing his cheek. He leaned into your touch, so soft and warm.

“That’s the thing, I’d do it again. I’d do all those bad things again, for you.” He admitted, watching you process his words. It should’ve scared you, should’ve made you run off his porch and block his number. It excited you, made your core throbbed at the thought of someone loving you enough to do those ‘bad things’ he spoke of. You were smart enough to make your own conclusions about what he meant.

“But why did you ignore me? That really hurt, Frankie. It really fucking sucked.”

“I told you. I felt gross, undeserving of you. I went on a date with someone who wasn’t you and it was eating at me, even if my reasons were just.” He truly looked apologetic, you came here looking to stick it to him but you melted the second he started talking. He did it for you and you were sat thinking he just didn’t like you and wanted a quick fuck.

“Frankie..” You whispered, looking at him like he’d hung the moon and all the stars. Scanning the other houses to predict who could’ve seen you here.

“Don’t do that. Don’t look at me like that, darlin’.” He groaned, tipping his head back and squeezing his eyes shut. You were a goddamn dream.

“I’d like a tour of your bed.” You giggled, the way you figured was he at least owed you some sort of makeup sex. You were melting the second he said he’d do bad things for you, he had to fix the problem he started.

“Mmm I can arrange that, c’mon cowgirl.” He tightened the grasp on the hand he was holding and led you inside, it smelled just like he did. Slight scent of gunpowder, tobacco from the cigars he smoked with your father, some sort of leather and coffee. You could drown yourself in the scent.

“Your place is so…you.” You observed. There were more cowboy hats hung up by the door, more boots on the floor, a whiskey cabinet in the living room which led you to assume everything else was held in his kitchen, the lighting was dim.

“Might shock ya to hear that I live here.” He teased, leading you through the kitchen and down a hallway to his bedroom. His room was sparsely decorated, he was only a man what could he say.

“I would’ve never guessed.” You smiled, letting go of his hand to flop down on his bed. It wasn’t nearly as comfortable as yours, didn’t have nearly as many blankets and pillows.

Frank slid his hands down your thighs as they hung off the bed, admiring the sight of you in his bed. He didn’t deserve you or what you were about to give him. But Frank Castle was a greedy man, he’d take everything you were willing to give. Especially when it came to you. He slowly massaged your thighs, moving both hands to one of your legs and massaging all the way down. You propped yourself on your elbows, watching him curiously as he massaged you.

“What’re you doing, Frankie?” You asked softly, genuine curiosity present in your voice. His lips lifted at the nickname, as they did every time you called him that since the first time.

“Jus’ lovin’ on my lady, do you have a problem with that?” He tilted his head down and raised an eyebrow, the cowboy hat slipping a bit as he did so.

“Nope, no problems. Just thought you were gonna take me to bed, ‘s all.”

“You know how to pick my brain, findin’ all the right things to say and when to say ‘em. My pretty girl, made just for me. Ain’t that right?” He let go of your leg, hiking your dress up so he didn’t sit on it when he straddled your waist. “Knew this was gonna happen, huh? Did ya find the laciest red panties you could find? You got words, I know you do.”

“For you, told you I’d do it.” You pulled the top of the dress down to realize the matching lacy red bra, all for your Frankie. He let out a low groan, you were too good to a man who didn’t deserve you. Too tainted to touch the pureness of your soul.

Frank helped you out of your dress, throwing it into the corner of his room, he stared at you a long time. The matching red set was something out of his dreams, he wanted to sear the image of you wearing it in his bed in his head forever. He ran his hands over your stomach, your thighs, anywhere his hands could reach. It’s crazy how fast a person can come to mean so much to you, especially when they’d been around for years. One night changed everything for the both of you, changed the meaning of love for Frank. He’d figure out how to get your dad on board late, for tonight you were his sweet thing to make sweet love to.

The cowboy hat was left on at your request, he didn’t mind as long as you kept letting the giggles out when it bumped your forehead as he thrusted up into you. Your red bra was left on at his request, a reminder that this was all for him. That it was all real and not some cruel dream. Your moans and whimpers a sweet symphony to his ears, he’d pay over and over and over to hear. Your nails gripping his back, when he checked in the mirror later that evening it’d be adorned with light pink scratches and half moons scattered across it, holding onto him like he was going to disappear again. His thrusts were slow but deep, hitting all the right spots inside you, his hands holding your head to look at him as he showed you everything he couldn’t say with words.

His words were equally dirty and sweet, just like him.

“Pretty baby, you feel how you’re squeezin’ me?”

“God, gonna lock you away. Keep you all to myself, use you when I want. Make you my pretty housewife.”

“”S alright baby, Frankie’s got you. Gonna take good care of this pussy, make ‘er feel good.”

The two of you came together, he talked you softly through the whole thing. Peppered kisses across your face and down your neck, praising you for how good you did even though he did all the work. He traced his initials, FC, above your heart with his fingers before placing a kiss right where he traced. Marking you, invisibly, as his forever and ever.

“Don’t ever go on another date with another woman.” You teased softly, looking up at him when you came to.

“I’m not doin’ nothin’ with another woman that’s not you. Promise, darlin’.” He placed a soft kiss to your lips, nipping at your bottom lip and pulling away to look at your face. He wiped away the sweaty hairs that had stuck themselves to your face.

“Good, my Frankie.”

“Your Frankie.” He’d softened in his older years, in his years with you he’d soften even more than previously thought. Frankie, as he came to be known to everyone you introduced him to, never could say no to you. That included the day you decided you wanted to tell your dad about him, you were tired of sneaking around. Even if it was fun. You’d been in an actual established relationship for a while at that point, he was going to find out eventually. In true Frankie fashion he sighed, shot back the rest of his whiskey and said Okay, darlin’. The mental battle he fought, briefly, about you lost the second you assured him you’d traverse it together. Loving you was the best thing Frank Castle would ever come to do in all his life.

#frank castle #jon bernthal #dbf frank castle #frank castle smut #frank castle x reader #frank castle x you #maddies fics #dads best friend frank castle #dads best friend #the punisher #jon bernthal smut #fic: cowgirl <3

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bowsellie · 9 months

Text

we have chemistry

warnings: college!ellie x college!reader, stoner!ellie, chronically ill reader (not specific, just mentions of fatigue and a medical accommodation for a single room for plot reasons lol), weed usage (Ellie and reader), mild language, briefly proofread, no use of y/n minors dni! smut in 3rd section! top!ellie, some degradation, praise (reader called a good girl, pretty girl, etc., ellie told she's doing a good job), SO MUCH CONSENT WE <3 CONSENT, fingering (r! receiving), oral (r! receiving), aftercare.

💗💗💗

You didn't want to be taking organic chemistry. Nobody in that class did--not even the chemistry majors. But as finals season rolled around, you found yourself spending extra time to make sure that it would at least be worth your while. Needless to say, not everybody shared the same drive.

As the clock hit 8:49am on the last class before the exam, everybody started shoving their laptops away despite the professor's continuing drone. To your right there was an extra loud snap! as the student beside you--an auburn-haired girl you'd never seen before--shut the screen with finality. You shot her a glare, gently closing your notebook as people began to trickle out.

"You're smart, right?"

You angled your face towards the sound, assuming somebody was having a side conversation close by. Instead, you found yourself face to face with striking green eyes leaning to reach your line of sight.

"Hi. Yeah, you. You're using an actual notebook and have all the fancy pens and shit, so...are you smart?"

Your eyebrows drew together slightly as you shrugged with one shoulder. "I try, I guess. Um...why?"

One corner of the girl's mouth picked up. "I don't know if you've noticed, but I've literally never been to this class before. My grade sucks. But I really don't want to retake this shit. Do you think you could help me?"

You stared at her incredulously, mentally calculating the equation of audacity and arrogance it must take to expect a complete stranger to help despite a clear lack of effort.

You opened your mouth slightly to say some variation of hell fucking no, who do you think you are anyways?, maybe you should have considered that before skipping literally every other class meeting when she stuck out her hand. "I'm Ellie, by the way. I'll pay you for helping me." When you hesitated to shake it, she added a "please".

You rolled your eyes, shaking the girl--Ellie's--hand with slightly too much force. "Fine. Whatever. Give me your number." You slid your phone across the table, already open to the contacts app, and watched as she typed.

"You're a lifesaver! Thank you..." she asked, pausing for your name. You gave it. "Thank you."

💗💗💗

Getting back to your dorm and settling into bed for a nap, you briefly texted the number now in your phone as "Ellie" with the last name "Wehavechemistry".

hey

Almost immediately, three dots popped up.

hey there. do you like my contact? lmao

i mean, we do have chemistry together. so like...sure?

no no no. i meant like...we have chemistry. wink wink nudge nudge. and my last name starts with a w so it's funny. do you get it?

...

it's funny.

yeah yeah sure. very funny. hahaha. anyways.

when did you want to come over? i'm free all weekend, and the final's monday. sooooo

oh shit

didn't realize the final was monday

ummmmmmmm how does tomorrow at 8pm work? do you have a roommate or something we need to accommodate for?

no, no roommate. tomorrow at 8pm works fine for me. see you then, ellie.

Turns out, texting with Ellie wasn't all that insufferable. She was friendlier than you expected, and every time you put your phone down to try and fall asleep you found your heart beating too fast at every notification to actually put it down.

Instead, you kept the conversation going until 8pm the next day rolled around, when instead of a text you got three loud raps at the door.

Opening it up, you saw Ellie in the same hoodie as yesterday. This time, her hair was slightly damp and she smelled like...old spice and something pungent and earthy. Did she shower already?

"Hey," you said, suddenly feeling awkward and over dressed in your jean shorts and crop top, hair still done from that afternoon. "You can come in."

Ellie grinned at you as she slid in the door. "We have a semester of schoolwork to cover. Hope you're prepared for a long night," she said.

"Trust me, I am. Did you bring anything?" You asked, looking for a bag as she climbed on to your bed.

"Nope. Not school stuff, anyways." Curious, you tossed your notebook towards her and watched as she pulled a pre-rolled joint and lighter from her hoodie pocket. "I'm assuming you don't smoke since you're like, a nerd, but do you mind if I do?"

You shook your head, dropping your jaw in false offense. "How lame do you think I am? Just because I actually go to class doesn't mean I'm a nerd."

Ellie shot you a disbelieving look, but handed you the joint anyways as you joined her on the bed. "Here, have the first hit. As a thank you for helping me out."

She lit it for you as you inhaled, passing her the weed and opening your notebook. "If this keeps you from retaining information that's not my fault. Just saying."

"Trust me, I'm so alert right now it's crazy. All of tonight is gonna be stuck in my memory for a while."

💗💗💗

The room gradually grew darker, lit only by your adjusting lamp and the last smoldering ashes of the joint as you reached halfway through the notebook.

You breathed heavily through your nose, looking at Ellie seriously. "It's so late. We're not going to finish this tonight."

As she looked up at you, you suddenly noticed how much closer you two had moved over the course of the night. Had your thighs been touching the whole time? Has her breath always been so close it's hitting your cheek? Why did she have to smell so good?

Your own breath caught in your throat as she leaned even closer to you, placing a hand so close to your leg you could feel the fabric of her sweatshirt against her bare thigh. Almost imperceptibly, her gaze flickered down to your chest, now rapidly rising and falling.

"How set do you think I am for this stupid final?" Ellie asked seriously, a rasp in her voice either from smoke or the lowered pitch.

"You picked up on everything really well, so at least the first half I think you'll do fine."

She grabbed your left hand in both of hers, causing your breath to catch again. Her eyes flickered down again, this time lingering longer. Following her gaze, you noticed the top of your bra peeking out.

"Sorry," you said, quickly adjusting your shirt to cover it as heat spread through your body.

"No, no, you're fine. Sorry for looking," she said. You looked at her face, watching as her eyes seemed to trace the shape of your shoulders and the line of your throat.

The air thickened with tension, but you found yourself not wanting Ellie to leave yet. "So, why did you take this class anyways? If you didn't want to go?"

Finally, she met your eyes. "I need a chemistry for my major. Astronomy. I thought I would like this one, but didn't realize it was a fucking 8am when I signed up. By the time I realized I wasn't going to make it up that early it was too late to drop." She shrugged. "What about you? Big chemistry fan?"

You snorted. "Not really, but I also needed a chemistry for my major. I like the 8ams, it lets me have afternoons free to sleep. That's why I don't have a roommate--medical accommodations for fatigue or whatever." She nodded along, genuinely listening.

"Well, hopefully I don't have to retake this class. Next time there probably won't be a pretty girl willing to help me out."

You smiled at her, breathing sharply out of your nose in a laugh. "We'll see what we can do."

A beat of silence washed over you before Ellie pointed towards the pride flag on your wall with her chin. "So...are you..." She began, causing you to laugh full out this time.

"Yeah. Obviously, I'd hope, but if you're feminine people tend to assume otherwise I guess." You smiled and looked at her. "Are you?"

Ellie placed a hand on her chest. "I'm hurt you had to ask. I've been trying to flirt with you since I got your number, babe."

Oh.

"Oh."

She leaned back a little. "I can cut it out, if you want. I couldn't tell if you were into it or not."

Without giving her time to continue doubting, you sprung forward and attached your lips to hers. Threading your fingers in her hair and breathing in as you pulled back.

"So...you are into it?"

"I'm a little dense, Ellie. Don't let the color-coded notes fool you. But yes. Now that I know...I'm into it."

She smiled at you with one side of her mouth again, this time leaning forward to kiss you first. Lips opening slightly, you felt her body around yours as her hands found the bed and pushed you on to your back.

Ellie pushed her tongue gently into your mouth, settling between your legs as they fell open. As you felt her weight between your hips, you groaned a little.

Whining a little as she pulled away, your eyes fluttered shut as Ellie threaded her fingers through the hair by your ear. "Is this supposed to be my payment?" you asked, leaning into her touch.

"Shut up," she said playfully, leaning in to kiss you again. This time it was more forceful, teeth bumping against teeth as your tongues chased each other. Too focused on the overwhelming sensation of Ellie's mouth on your own, you broke the kiss to moan in surprise when you felt her knee push against your core.

Using the opportunity to trail her mouth down your cheek, to your jaw, to your neck, Ellie asked "is this okay, baby?" between kisses. You nodded before remembering she couldn't see you, instead responding with a slightly choked "yes."

In response, her lips attached right behind your ear as her teeth sunk into you and she began to suck. You groaned, bucking your hips against her knee. Kindly, she began to push it back into you, laughing into your neck as you continued whimpering.

"What?" you asked. "Why are you laughing?"

Ellie pulled away from the spot she had been working into your collarbone, meeting your eyes. "You're just so pretty. Can't believe I have you falling apart for me and I've barely touched you."

Your mouth fell open at her words, groaning. Ellie's mouth found yours again, her hands reaching for your tits over your shirt. "Can't blame me for looking at these," she said between kisses, "You look so good in this shirt."

"Take it off, then," you said. You sounded braver than you felt, your stomach doing absolute flips as the girl over you quickly complied to reveal your lacy nude bra.

"I like this," she said softly. "I want it off, though. Is that okay, pretty?" You nodded. The bra was nothing special--just comfy and the right color. If Ellie liked it, though, it was now one of your favorites.

Her mouth moved down your chin and neck to attach to your left nipple, bringing a hand to your opposite hip as she sucked and licked lightly. Your hips continued to buck against her knee, which was now stationary as you essentially rode her thigh.

Chuckling a little, Ellie looked up at you and began unbuttoning your shorts. "Knew you'd be needy. What kind of thoughts are you hiding from me?" she asked, pulling off your bottoms and panties in one go when you lifted your hips to help.

You smiled a little watching her eyes attach themselves to the spot between your legs. "What can I say?" you said. "Maybe I'm a little slutty if the right girl has me under her."

This seemed to light something in Ellie, who watched your face as she brought your face down to your pussy. Close enough to feel her breath, her eyes gleamed as she moved away from your hips chasing her.

"Please," you asked, voice breaking. "Please, Ellie."

"Guess you are a slut, huh? Begging for me already." Whatever response you had was cut off by a screaming moan as her mouth attached itself to you, immediately lapping at your clit before interspersing it with longer licks. Your legs shut around her face as your hands grabbed into her hair, pulling a little as you noticed the groan she made at the pressure.

"That feels so good, Ellie." Her motions sped up at this, and you hurriedly repeated the phrase as she focused more attention on your clit. Feeling everything tighten, you wrapped your ankles around her back as your hips lifted almost completely off the bed. Still attached to you, Ellie fully moaned as you pulled her hair and came over her face.

Whimpering softly as she pulled away, you audibly groaned when she looked up at you and wiped her chin with the back of her hand. "You did so good, baby. Do you have another one in you?"

You quickly nodded, feeling words escape you. All you wanted was for her to say you did good again.

Ellie leaned into you, placing her head into the crook of your neck as her fingers ghosted lightly over your hips, stomach, and thighs. Finally, you felt them dip into the pool of wet that had collected in your cunt. Spreading the mix of saliva, cum, and arousal up to your clit and around your hole, she slowly pushed a slender finger into you. Your back arched off the bed when she began pumping it in and out, chuckling against your neck.

"Such a pretty girl. You're doing so good," she whispered. Your moans grew louder at her words and she pushed another finger in. "Good girl," she breathed, kissing your neck and jaw as she worked into you.

"Ellie," you gasped. "Ellie, please."

"What, baby?"

"Please, Ellie, please. Wanna cum."

You felt her lips quirk up against your collarbone as she added a thumb to your clit and a curl to her fingers. Quicker than you'd ever been able to get there yourself, you felt the tightening of your gut. She swallowed your moans with a sloppy kiss, gently catching your bottom lip between her teeth before soothing it with her tongue. She used her other hand to hold on to your hair at the scalp as you writhed, second orgasm shuddering through your body.

"Good girl," she said as she worked you through it. Sitting up, she wiped her fingers on your thighs before moving up up to let you rest your head on her chest. "You did so good, baby. My smart, pretty, good girl."

You whimpered a little, not prepared to speak just yet. Ellie seemed to understand and didn't push you, holding you and playing with your hair until you leaned back to smile at her.

"That was good. Thank you," you told her, leaning in for a kiss that tasted of your sweat and pussy.

Ellie broke away, moving the hand wrapped around your waist to grab something out of your back pocket. She placed it on your bare chest, tucking it between your tits.

"What do I look like, a prostitute?" you asked. "Much love to them, but..."

Ellie raised her eyebrows. "I mean, you fuck like a professional, but this is for helping me study."

You grabbed the bill and pushed it back into her pocket. "Save it for next time. We need to finish that notebook if you want to actually pass this class."

Ellie kissed the top of your head. "How does tomorrow work?"

A/N this is basically a self insert...my bad. tried to make it as inclusive to different readers as possible. let me know if there's anything I can improve on!! <3

#Ellie smut #Ellie williams smut #Ellie williams #Ellie x reader #ellie x fem reader #Ellie williams x you #Ellie williams oneshot #stoner!ellie #college!ellie #she's astronomy major coded prove me wrong

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silent-stories · 1 year

Text

𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐀𝐅𝐀𝐑 - 𝟐

Pairing: Eddie x F!Reader

Summary: Eddie finally works up the courage to talk to you again and he's not disappointed.

Part 1

"I'm sorry, I won't." You repeated for about the hundredth time as you placed some brushes in a jar and then on a shelf.

The lesson had been over for a few minutes and your classmates were getting ready to finally leave.

Aaron rolled his eyes as he washed his hands at the sink located in the corner of the art classroom, watching the water wash the red paint off his hands, coloring the liquid as it descended.

It almost looked like blood.

"Your parents won't be home for two days. Two fucking days, Y/N. And you don't want to have a party?" He turned to you with his usual smile he used when trying to get someone to do what he wanted.

It was not going to work with you.

"Well, I'm sorry. I'm not really one for parties." You shrugged.

Aaron had spent all of class trying to get you to throw a party on Saturday night since your parents were away for the weekend, your house was big, and you had a pool.

Aaron insisted. "But it will be fun. We can invite your friends, Jason and his team and-"

"Aaron, c'mon. Even if I had this stupid party, I wouldn't invite those people."

They were the last people you wanted to see at school, let alone invite them to a party.

"What's wrong with Jason? He's been one of the first people I've talked to since I moved here, besides you, and he's a really cool guy."

You liked Aaron, you had met him a week ago when he asked if you knew where the art class was and you had accompanied him, saying you were going there too, but sometimes he would say things that would skyrocket your want to slap him.

Over the next few days you'd gotten closer and closer and you'd noticed how most of the girls – and even some of the boys – watched Aaron at school.

He was new and that equaled interesting, he was blond and green-eyed, which for many cheerleaders equaled cute.

You also suspected that many of them were jealous that he was spending so much time with you instead of them.

Anyway, you didn't like him that way, of course you had to admit that he respected the canons of beauty to which people paid attention, but there were things more important than how symmetrical someone's face was.

"Cool? Do you want me to make you a list of all the reasons why I don't like that asshoke? He's selfish, obnoxious, vain, a bully....should I go on?" You crossed your arms over your chest.

"Nah, I'd like to listen to all your reasons but I have to go, honey. I'm going out with Jason and his friends later." He said running his fingers through his blond curls.

You raised your eyebrows, still hoping you misunderstood what he said.

"Seriously?"

"Seriously. I told you, they're cool guys."

"Like a stick up your ass."

Aaron burst out laughing. "Y/N, c'mon!"

"What? It's true!"

Aaron shook his head before grabbing his backpack and slung it over his shoulder. "See you tomorrow, okay?"

He smiled at you as he usually did, showing his perfect white teeth and rested a hand on your arm for a few seconds.

His smile was sometimes frighteningly reminiscent of Billy Hargrove's.

One thing you couldn't stand was the way he was always touching you. One arm around your shoulders, one hand on yours or your arm.

It always seemed like something too intimate, like the way he called you "honey" all the time, but you thought maybe it was your problem.

"Yeah, bye." You placed the last rags covered in color stains in their appropriate drawer.

"And think about the party!" He yelled before walking out the door, leaving you alone in the classroom.

"I won't!"

Eddie lingered in front of art class, watching some students leave after the last bell of the day rang and wondering why he suddenly had no idea how to start a conversation.

The last one to leave the class was the boy he had seen you with the day before, the one Dustin said was Aaron and that he wasn't your boyfriend.

As he walked out of the classroom, his gaze briefly met Eddie's, who was leaning back against the wall thinking about what he could do or what he could talk about with you.

And that look, it was definitely not the look of the nice guy next door who brings you cake as soon as he moves next to your house and offers to mow your lawn.

It was Jason's same look, it was the look of everyone who looked at Eddie as if he were trash.

It was the look of everyone who was sure Eddie was the leader of a satanic cult that no one would want anything to do with.

It was the same look as everyone who referred to him as a "freak."

Just the thought of you spending your time with that guy made Eddie think he had no chance with you and that he'd better go home and try to get over you. As if it was possible.

Suddenly, Eddie found himself alone in the hallway and for a moment he thought that you too had left the classroom and that he, too immersed in his thoughts, hadn't even noticed.

But no, it wasn't possible, he always noticed you.

He reached the threshold of the door and finally saw you, intent on moving a canvas in the corner of the room, on your hands there were still some traces of color that not even the water had managed to sweep away.

"Need a hand?" Eddie asked, surprising even himself.

You whirled on him, probably startled by the sudden voice but when you saw him, you smiled and Eddie almost forgot how to breathe.

"No, it's okay. I'm done. What are you doing here?" You asked as you grabbed a book off a table and stuffed it into your bag, before slinging it over your shoulder and walking towards him.

What was he doing there?

He wanted to see you, he wanted to hear the sound of your laugh and talk to you about any topic that crossed your mind because he was undoubtedly in love with you but too cowardly to tell you.

"Henderson told me you were here and I thought I'd come by and say hi."

He hoped it didn't sound stupid.

"Well, hi." You laughed as you walked out of the classroom, closing the door behind you.

Eddie watched you take a few steps ahead of you in the hallway before you turned to him.

"Are you coming or not?"

"Yeah, sure." He hastened to catch up with you.

"Today I'm walking home. This morning I woke up earlier than usual and it was sunny so I didn't use my car. Would you like to... walk me home?"

Eddie glanced at you to meet your sincere, hopeful expression.

"I don't live very far from here, don't worry." You added.

"Yeah, yes. Of course." He answered quickly, already kicking himself for letting you think that he didn’t want to go with you. He would have wanted even if you lived on the other side of the world.

You felt good spending time with Eddie.

You didn't quite know what it was but you felt the same sensation you felt when you sat in front of a fireplace in winter with a blanket on your legs and a book in your hands.

It was a feeling of calm and tranquility. You felt like you were really being listened to when you talked about the things you liked, that you weren't judged and you simply felt safe when you were with him.

It wasn't the same feeling you had when you were with Aaron. It was not even close.

Before you rounded the corner in the hallway, Eddie heard voices talking to each other.

"Wait, um-" Eddie didn't know how to say it. "There's someone. It's okay if you don't want to be seen with me."

It was like a reflex, a habit. No one wanted to be seen with him other than the Hellfire kids and his friends in his band.

His words hit you like a knife and your heart started bleeding for that sweet boy you barely knew.

All those years he'd spent being treated like he didn't deserve to, like no one would ever deserve, like a freak, had made him think that no one would want to be seen even to talk to him.

It wasn't fair.

It wasn't fair for all of Hawkings to judge a person they didn't even know for who he really were.

"It's okay, Eddie." You you reassured him as you rounded the corner, finding two cheerleaders talking to each other.

And Eddie, hearing your simple words, for a moment really thought that everything was okay. That there was no social barrier to divide you, that you were really friends and that he had the possibility to become something more for you one day.

He also liked the way his name sounded when you said it.

As you walked down the hallway, Eddie suddenly felt your fingers brush his and when he realized it wasn't by mistake, your hand had already met his and you intertwined your fingers with his.

Strangely, Eddie didn't catch his breath or start sweating like he did whenever you were even near him.

He wasn't even nervous anymore. But he smiled.

He felt as if someone had lifted a weight off his chest and now he could breathe easier, as if with your hand in his everything could really be fine.

When you passed the cheerleaders your hand was still holding his, stready, secure, not letting go.

When you got out of school you kept talking all the way home and every time Eddie heard the sound of your laugh he wished he could record it so he could listen to it whenever he wanted as if it was his favorite song.

You only let go of his hand when you arrived in front of your house.

"And then I told my uncle that I'd found a job, but I actually sat on the sidewalk every day downtown and played my guitar with a hat on the ground hoping someone would leave me a dollar." Eddie finished, noting that he was talking to you about personal facts that few other people knew about.

"If I had known, I would have come and left you a few bucks, you know." You commented.

"I was twelve, Y/N. So you were ten. I don't think you had much money to waste at that time." He laughed.

"When I was a kid I had ice cream almost every day. I could have given you my ice cream money."

Eddie smiled. "Would you have given up your daily ice cream for me?"

"For you, that and more" You chuckled as you opened the gate to your house. "Thanks for walking me home." You added.

"Anytime, I like hanging out with you." Eddie still didn't understand where he had found all that courage.

One corner of your mouth curled up. "I like it too."

"See you at school, then?" He asked.

"See you at school, Eddie." You repead before disappearing behind the door of your house.

He stood there for a few more moments, even getting a glare from your neighbor watering the flowers in her garden.

When he said 1986 was going to be his year, maybe he'd been right.

Part 3

I thought I'd write a part 2 and stop but... I kinda like this. Maybe a little series will come out of this?

Who asked to be tagged in the second part will also be tagged in all the other parts so if you want to be removed, let me know <3

Tags: @jacklesdeanvessel @morning-sky7 @pipsqueakkitten @navs-bhat

Love you from afar tags: @capitanostella @enam3l @saramelaniemoon @ang3lb44by @einkitty @themorriganisamonster @esme-viridian @daisyridleyyyy @whenshelanded @eggo-segual @comfortcharactercraze @callmeyn @expiredcum21 @unholyyylita @squidscottjeans @twilight-love-nochu-main @idkatee

#eddie x reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fluff

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bubbles-for-all-of-us · 2 months

Text

Casual intimacy

a/n Cracks knuckles… let’s go… 🙃 I loved writing this so I hope you will enjoyed reading it. Cause this one cracked something deep within me. 🫧🤭

request: Hiii! I absolutely love your work I think you're so talented. If you have time can I request an angsty Ruhn x Reader, maybe he gets jealous or something because she has such a bubbly personality and guys flock to her?

warning: a bit suggestive here and there, alcohol, drugs, smoking.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Ruhn was tired. Playing pretend always drained him. For the most part, he bit back at his father, but even there were limits. And when his father wasn’t at the center of his headaches, the fact that he was a crowned prince was. Ruhn flicked the cigarette out of the open car window as he waited for the light to turn green. “Be on the bed when I get back," he typed out quickly. A slight smile tugged at his lips.

Ruhn imagined that crimson haze creeping onto your cheeks. You had been an angel when you two first met. More like a caged bird. And while the world saw him as a devil who made a good girl go bad, in reality, he had freed you from the chains that had bound you to the dark cell for eternity. And if everyone was having a fright at the sight of a cigarette or a shot glass in your hand, they could all go fuck themselves.

A ding had Ruhn glancing at the screen in his car. "Unfortunately, I won’t be able to oblige," the message read, and Ruhn frowned. He blinked a couple of times. It was usually “you’re an idiot” or a nice picture that sent him pressing his foot just a bit more on the gas. What was the reason for this? Did you get your period? But that wasn’t very likely. Ruhn could sense when the red flow was coming. And you weren’t talking about cramps. He was about to fire out a quick “because?” when another ding sounded. And a picture appeared on the dash. A growl ripped through him. Here you stood. An innocent smile, still in the dress Ruhn had watched you put on this morning. By your side stood Flynn, who looked like a lost dog, glancing at the half-made sandwich on the counter. No, this wasn’t happening. Not tonight.

Ruhn quickly dialed your phone, gripping the steering wheel tightly. You didn’t even get a chance to breathe on the other side as he huffed, “What the fuck?” The music was almost deafening. So was the sea of voices. That scraped like a nail against his mind. “Hey, hotshot, this wasn’t my idea," you chirped, and as much as Ruhn was frustrated, the sound of your voice alone made his shoulders ease. “Tell them to fuck off," he hissed. He should have moved out long ago. Gotten you two an apartment and called it a day. “I can’t do that; I don’t live here." You chuckled softly, giggling at something Flynn said. Ruhn frowned. “You are my girlfriend; you are entitled to do what you want there," he pointed out. You had refused the title. Refused any benefits dating someone like him brought. The doors it opened. It was one of many reasons Ruhn loved you. Because for the very first time, he felt more than his title. More than just a pawn in someone’s game.

"Ruhn, I am not ordering two grown men around," you said, and while Ruhn didn’t agree, he didn’t get to voice his opinion because his words got overshadowed by someone calling for you. “Oh yeah, you can find that upstairs," you said, Ruhn could hear the smile on your face. "Babe," he called out, not loving the idea that someone had managed to steal your attention from him. “Oh, no, it’s okay. Call if you need anything." From the way your voice sounded, he could also tell that you had the phone away from your ear, so he used other methods. Trusted kind.

Y/n. He spoke within your linked hearts. Feeling the fluster in your heart at his call. But his hope got crushed as soon as it bloomed. Give me a moment, Ruhn. Ruhn not even a hotshot, not a babe. Ruhn gritted his jaw. “No, liquor is on the right shelf," you said, as he listened to you try to get through the crowd of people. “Get your legs off the counter, you freak," you hissed, followed by the sound of a chair being dragged back. "Yeah, sorry, the house is full," you muttered slightly under your breath, and suddenly he was back to hating that party. Because you had woken before the sun had even been up. Studies and work keep you busy. Even if Ruhn had told you many times that you didn’t have to work,

“I am sending them to Urd and then fucking back," he grunted, making you let out a chuckle. The sound of it still made his stomach warm. “Light up, they brought shit to smoke," you sighed, and while he enjoyed a good smoke, especially if you joined him, and even more so if you both rode the aftermath together, he just didn’t want that today. “I don’t...", Ruhn had started when a loud bag came from somewhere in the house, and the place erupted in gassing shouts and angry grunting. “Fuck, got to go," you breathed. "Drive, save, baby," you muttered. “Y/N, don’t go near...”, but the line went dead. "Fuck," the princeling hissed. Oh, he was going to hang both Dec and Flynn by their balls, and he was going to enjoy every second of it.

You were nowhere to be seen when he stepped into the madness of the house. Ruhn felt you, so that had to be good enough for now. You were in the house. The question, however, was where exactly that was. "Man, this is sick." Some guy clasped a hand over Ruhn’s shoulder, making the crowned prince bat the touch away stiffly. “Yeah, dude, you’re dope!" the other shouted, his eyes red as fire. There was too much substance in his body. Ruhn frowned, trying not to show the disgust on his face. “Get your shoes off my fucking carpet," he hissed in dismissal, walking past them. His frustration only grew the more he looked around for you. If not for the music, he would reach out through the bond once again. But his head was pounding, and he knew there was no way for him to concentrate enough.

Then Ruhn’s eyes fell on a small group forming near the kitchen. It wasn’t usual. If people did drugs or mixed drinks, they usually went in groups of two. Not a whole fucking sea of them. An itch inside him flared up, and he didn’t even realize it when he started walking towards it.

“So how did you do it?”, a lazy voice asked as Ruhn approached. “I just painted, silly," and that was all it took for his body to ignite. No one even matched the power your light voice had on his body. “Yeah, but that’s one big canvas," another voice slurred. Ruhn licked his lips as he stepped through the arc, and the sight was far from what he had hoped for. There you stood, a white angel in a sea of hacks. Pouncing on you for a nibble.

“I didn’t sleep, I mean," Ruhn watched as a blush on your cheeks. “Colors just guided me. It sounds insane, I know, and no, I was not high," you said sheepishly, making everyone in the room chuckle. But Ruhn saw it. The way they looked at you. They didn’t care about this. Didn’t care about your passion. Didn’t care about the spark in your eyes as you spoke of the things you loved. You were a spectacle. A pretty thing to look at. But it’s when one of them reached out to tuck the hair that had slipped out of your silk bow that Ruhn stepped forward, yanking one of the guys by the back of the shirt as he shouldered past them.

He only managed to catch a glimpse of you inhaling before his hand wrapped around your neck as he pulled you closer to him. Crashing his lips against your red-painted ones. You melted against him. He cared little for anything else as he bent slightly to grab at your thighs, lifting you and guiding you onto the counter as he spread your legs, stepping in between them. Before his fingers found your hips, he pulled you against him. "Ruhn." Your voice was breathy and weak as you wrapped your legs tighter around his middle. “Want to moan that louder?”, he teased, his lips hovering over your neck as he pinched your bum, making you squeal. “I leave you for a day and come to find you in a sea of men," Ruhn hissed with a shake of his head. You knew that it wasn’t anger. It was more lust and that sparkle of possessiveness.

“Jealous much?”, you purred, smirking as you ran your fingers over his jaw. “Don’t play with me, woman," he muttered, his hand once again wrapping around your throat as he inched closer. "Oh," you coo, “I forgot that you’re just a baby." You sighed, cupping his cheeks, but that was short-lived. One moment you were still on the counter, the other in the air and over your boyfriend’s shoulder.

“Ruhn Danaan, put me down." You wiggled in his hands. Tried to hit his chest but for nothing. If anything, that only earned you a slap on your bum and another gasp as your cheeks flared to life with red. “You...", you hissed out, but Ruhn only settled his hand on your ass, keeping the dress over your exposed bottom. Not too keen on others getting a glimpse at what lay underneath. “Don’t finish that unless you want me to spank you again," he mussed, smug as a cat as he moved through the crowd of people.

Whistling met you right by the stairs. One that Ruhn recognized, considering that he stopped. “You two are in deep shit," the crowned prince hissed, throwing a glance at his two best friends. But all they did was laugh. “Fuck it out of him, Yn, please," Dec mussed, grinding his hips in the air. “Suck one-off for the team," Flynn saluted as you three burst into laughter. It appeared that only Ruhn didn’t find that appealing. And something told you that if you weren’t over his shoulder now, friend or not, they might just taste the back of Ruhn’s hand. But he only cursed under his breath. “I will leave you two dickless," he threatened, reaching for the railing as the two man-children moaned and growled downstairs.

Ruhn was breathing heavily when he finally closed the door of his bedroom. It wasn’t from your weight. It just all started to cave in on him as he lowered you to the ground. You nibbled against his neck, pulling away to reach for the hem of your dress, but Ruhn caught your wrist, guiding you closer to him. "No," he muttered. A slight shake of his head told you that he was dead serious, too. “Did you just say no to...", You had started in a teasing tone, but there was something in his eyes that made you stop. "Ruhn," you called out way softer now, brushing your fingers up and down his arms. “Come here, darling," you said, wrapping your arms around him. He wasn’t fully open and vulnerable often. And when he was. That meant that whatever you two were doing, you were the ones who would have to carry the heavy load. Just for a bit. until he finds his footing again.

“If this is about the males, I didn’t even for a second…," you muttered against his chest, but Ruhn only grunted, “I know you weren’t interested. It’s just…” he took a deep breath, “a long day." You knew how much more those three words implied. How much more complex it was. But you also knew that the last thing he needed was you trying to drag it all out of him. “Why don’t you lay down?”, you asked softly, brushing your fingers over his lower back.

“I’m okay here," he said quietly. The hold on your body didn’t ease. “Come on, we’ll lay naked; I’ll roll you a blunt," you poked at his chest, shooting him a loving smile as you wiggled your eyebrows. Ruhn let out a slight chuckle as he reached for the buttons on his shirt. You helped him drag the material off his body, kneeling to undo his shoes. Ruhn caught your chin, pulling your head up so you would look at him through your lashes. "Fuck, it never gets old," he grunted, brushing his finger over your slightly smudged red lip. You only grinned up at him, leaning in to kiss his thigh as you pushed his pants off him all the way.

Ruhn watched you in a daze before you pushed at his chest, sending him sprawled out on the mattress. He drank every movement you made. You reaching for a bag of mirth-root, licking the edge of the paper as you finish the roll. Lighting it up and taking the first hit before handing it to Ruhn. He watched the cloud of smoke flaring around you as you reached for your dress, pulling it over your head. He could very easily die here right now. And go to Urd as a happy man if the last sight he saw was you in nothing but a black thong.

It was this exact casual intimacy that had him running at first. He was frightened to feel secure with someone like that. To have someone trust him like that. Ruhn reached out, his hands gripping your thighs as he pulled you over onto him. A blunt burning between his teeth. You straddled his naked body with ease. The movement was second nature by now. “What do you need?”, you asked softly, brushing some of the hair away from his face. Ruhn found himself opening his mouth but shutting it closed once more. He didn’t know. He was only aware that he needed you but was not sure how. Bent over the counter? Seated on his face? Snuggled up against him? With you holding him instead? “That’s okay, we will figure it out." You leaned in and pressed a kiss on his chest, leaving feather-like brushes over his exposed skin. “You’ll tell me when you’ll know," you breathed, pulling back up to look into his purple eyes. He didn’t answer, wrapping an arm around your back as he pulled you closer to him. Skin to skin. There was nothing between you two. You rested your face on the crook of his neck, feeling him take another drag of the cigarette in silence. His silence. One that you threaded for him. Painted it. And for the first time in what felt like forever, Ruhn realized that there was no other sound around him, just a steady beat of your heart.

#ruhn danaan x you #ruhn danaan x oc #ruhn danaan imagine #ruhn danaan x reader #ruhn danaan #ruhn crescent city #ruhn x reader #prince ruhn #crescent city imagine #crescent city x reader #crescent city #crescent city x oc

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saturnbellfromhell · 1 year

Text

DRESSING LIKE YOUR RISING SIGN

I'm taking a minor break till next week writing "The Energry Series", since I want to perfect it, seek more knowledge, do better all in all! So today I'm writing a gitty and playful post.

Rising signs are important to the extent that they rule over our outer appearance and how we come across to the world around us. They are the sign showing up first on the eastern horizon the moment we are taking our first breath. Most of the time it is described as the "mask" or "shell" we put on for the world, but I think the energy of your rising sign cannot be a changeable nor is it a mask. It's a natural stance you take on while heading out the door. The second point in the " Big Three" in astrology. Also the planet ruling your rising sign is the main ruler of your chart. Meaning if you are for example a Pisces, the ruler Neptune will be prominent in molding your appearance. Also called the Ascenendant (AC), meaning "rising in power/influence".

So let's get started!

🔳 ARIES RISING

We start of with our energetic baby Aries. These girls win over the color red, that's for sure. Even though I can see Aries rising in a short skirt with a crop top and a ponytail, they also look amazing in street style/baggy clothes in my opinion. For the makeup I see a simple false lash, rosy cheeks and some fake freckles. Cute with a bit of sass!

🔳 TAURUS RISING

My beautiful Venusian girls, who just look right with wavy hair drenched in the smell of argan oil and patchouli perfume on their wrists.These girls in my opinion look right in any boho, hippy, loose clothes. They also can make any long non fitting dress look amazing. For the makeup I would keep it very neutral, with grounding colors and a soft lip color. Also for some reason white looks amazing on them aswell, so angelic looking.

🔳 GEMINI RISING

Oh my, o my here come the funky babes of the group! Gemini risings are known to be a slimmer frame, so I would suggest to play with silhouettes. You can always count on a Gemini to brighten up your day, because of this not only does a bright personality suit them but bright colors and crazy patterns also! They look amazing in anything that stands out. I also se our Gemini rising girlies with some sort of facial piercing, a septum maybe? Or a cute navel piercing, sounds good to me to be honest. For the makeup I can see any dramatic looking eyeliner, eyeshadow or lip...Anything experimental for that matter

🔳 CANCER RISING

Here come the mini Venuses with their stunning eyes and round face. They also look so good to me with their hair in some sort of updo, messy with clips. Their body is know to be also rounded, with a prominent chest and hips. Cancerian girls look good in anything delicate and soft, the risqué look isn't really for them. For jewelry I can see them wearing dainty silver rings or a shiny necklace. I mean pearls are their best friend being the sign connected to the sea and ocean. Think of the mermaid look, fresh, young and mysterious. I also don't know why but Cancers suit coconut scented anything on their skin...again going with the beach theme.

🔳 LEO RISING

Leo's are just the moment, we have all agree on8 that. With their athletic frame and crazy hair I can see why they get the attention. They look amazing in any colors. I would say royal purple, pink, red and gold are my top picks. They look amazing in anything that's dramatic, skin tight or just plain sporty. I can also see them wearing very classy perfume like the Chanel 5.

🔳 VIRGO RISING

I absolutely adore my Virgo risings, they can step out in a button down and some jeans and just look so put together. They are the queens of the minimalistic look. In my opinion greens, greys, soft browns and muted colors look great on them. Jewelry wise maybe some stud earrings and a tiny pendant necklace? The fragrance I see when I think of a Virgo rising is the Armani Aqua de Gio. Think Bella Hadid, she is the opitime of the Virgo rising. Chic but so simple.

🔳 LIBRA RISING

Their don't need a lot, and they absolutely know it. Being the second Venusian babe in our signs they imbody the extravagant look. Think anything trendy, but they also look good in anything classy. I can see a Libra rising with a white corset and puffy skirt, filled with jewelry around her hands and neck smelling of lavender and lemon. Red lipstick and a little bit of mascara. Hair in some sort of braids and big sunglasses! Also I can see them in long sleek dresses making everybody fall in love with them!

🔳 SCORPIO RISINGS

O Morticia Addams, the goth queens and killer looks girlies. The color black is their best friend, but also dark blues, grays, browns, greens. Silver, only silver for the jewelry. They look really good in tight long dresses, leather pants or skirts and platform shoes are a must! They really embody the the dark princess look to me. They are gracefully creepy and I mean that in the nicest way ever!

🔳 SAGITTARIUS RISING

Sag girlies are the girls how can pull of a lot. On their it days they look amazing in bright colors, high heels, any type of skirt or dress. On their off days they best suite the lazy athletic type. With a matching gym set and some cute uggs they rock the city streets. The perfume I see them in is anything with a little bit of spice, that has pepper undertones and are on the "stronger" side, the Versace "Eros" for example.

🔳 CAPRICORN RISING

My beautiful Caps with their high cheekbones and piercing eyes. They are the classic rising. For some reason Caps always look serious and put together, even when not trying. They love dark colors and maybe a statement piece. Like a ruby ring or extravagant necklace piece. White button downs, skinny jeans, knee length skirts, black corsets and lace anything. Also a suit really is your best friend.

🔳 AQUARIUS RISING

These girlies are the trend setters of the zodiac, everybody loves how creative Aqurius risings are. They love to look put together just like their sister Capricorn but when it comes to spicing up they are the queens for that. I think they look cool in metalics too. Their hair looks good sleek backed or maybe some fun pixie cut? Bangs also, not gonna lie. They also need some fruity perfume to add to the look.

🔳 PISCES RISING

Lastly my etheral babes, with their glossy big eyes and tiny frame they look stunning in anything made out of silk. They also look good in airy dresses and skirts. Also a small winged eyeliner with some white dots to to make their eyes pop. For some weird reason Pisces rising are made for white dresses and clipped back hair.

Xoxo

#capricorn rising #pisces rising #aries rising #ascendente #rising sign #aquarius rising #scorpio rising #taurus rising #gemini rising #sagittarius rising #leo rising #libra rising #virgo rising #cancer rising #astrology observations #astro world #zodiac

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