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actual-changeling · 7 months

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"It would have been you."

It's raining.

Of course, it's raining.

A soft, constant drizzle leaving his hair a damp, curly mess that falls into his face and clings to his skin. Even though the cold is slowly seeping into his clothes, Crowley stops and turns around. Condensation is collecting on the inside of his shades where his breath drifts up, warm and too fast, and even if it hadn't been late at night, if the street hadn't been empty, he would have still taken them off.

Aziraphale is licking rain drops from his lips and blinking with dark, heavy lashes.

"What?"

His voice is rough, almost drowned out by the noise of rain hitting the pavement, collecting in small puddles around his feet.

"If it had been a choice, a real one, it would have been you."

The world did not end, questions were answered, apologies spoken, but their last conversation before everything went to shit is still a sharp splinter lodged in his chest, cutting him open more and more with every heartbeat. All of the fears he had left unsaid, the viscous doubt pooling in his lungs and weighing down his breaths—the truth might tip the scales and finally destroy him, and yet he cannot bring himself to stop Aziraphale from talking.

"It has always been you, Crowley. You must know that."

"I don't."

Bitterness laces his voice despite his best intentions, a drop of oil tainting an entire river, six thousand years of history, and it hurts because it's the truth, because they both wish it wasn't.

He doesn't know, couldn't know, because Aziraphale always needed him to stop them, to step back when they got too close. Every single time he had tried to push, gone too bloody fast, the angel had recoiled, scared for him, scared for the both of them. Crowley knows, and at the same time, he doesn't, because he still has hope and there is nothing more dangerous than allowing it to bloom; it's small, withered, brittle, on the verge of death and has been for centuries.

(It's still there, though. It keeps fighting, keeps trying. Keeps hoping.)

They're drenched to the bone, wet and pathetic, and there is nothing romantic about any of it when Aziraphale retraces his steps and closes the distance between them; there is, however, love.

There has always been love, whether they could admit it or not.

"I'm sorry. For- for everything, for making you think that I don't care about you."

"Angel, don't lie-"

"I'm not lying."

Crowley stares, frozen to the spot when Aziraphale presses cold, wet palms to his cheeks, his breath a ghost of warmth on his skin. This is too much, too close to 'our side', and if he didn't know better (does he know better? does he really?) he would think that he is about to—

"I'm not lying," he whispers, broken, truthful, "I love you. I won't leave you."

The rain stings in his eyes, masking the tears—hot and wistful—meeting Aziraphale's skin where it is touching his.

"Don't make promises you can't keep, angel."

His voice cracks and so does his heart, and he can feel the walls they have built together crumbling to dust under their feet. It's not real, it can't be real, and yet the truth is shimmering in storm-blue eyes he has been carrying with him since the moment he first put stars into the sky.

"It's you, always has been, always will be. If you let me."

Crowley kisses him as he falls apart, barely healed fractures reopening as his essence spills over and out, drowning him in please, please be real, please let us have this, please, God.

Just this once.

Aziraphale holds his face so incredibly gently, as if it's something worth keeping, something to protect, something he is afraid to lose. When the ground doesn't open up and swallow them whole, when the sky doesn't reach for them with greedy hands, he allows himself to seize Aziraphale's face in turn, cupping his jaw and kissing the rain drops off his lips, his cheeks, the tip of his nose, tasting his tears when they begin to fall.

"It's always been you. God, of course I will let you."

Sapphire blue eyes blink up at him, a smile pressed against his lips, a smile he can feel, a smile that is for him, them.

"Perhaps you could let me somewhere less, ah, sopping wet?"

"I was right, though. It's the rain that did it."

Aziraphale laughs, bright and happy, and infectious enough to make Crowley laugh too, and grabs his hand to pull him back towards the bookshop - back home.

#alex writes good omens #good omens #ineffable husbands #crowley #aziraphale #good omens season 2 #go2 #aziracrow #crowley x aziraphale #ineffable divorce #this has been in my tumblr drafts forever i swear ugh #finally finished it

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those-rainbow-ninjas · 1 month

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real conversation i had w my friend

#mp100 #softboiled art #just remembered i have a lot of shit that has been sitting in my drafts for forever so. hi #ritsu kageyama #shou suzuki #mob psycho 100

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sintiva · 1 year

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toji let’s his pretty bunny girl hump n’ cum all over his cock <33 let’s u bounce on it as much as you want to, til it’s frothing at the base <333 toji tugging on your lil’ bunny tail and beggin ya to slow down,

“my cock’s throbbing, baby. milked me dry—yy.”

<333 toji who can’t keep up w his bunny girls libido <333 she fucks him dumb. slots her mouth over toji’s scar and peppers the rest of his face in kisses. catches his tongue in her mouth n’ that’s when his dick gets extra hard all over again <333

bunny girl finally lifts off him n’ a pool of cum gushes out <333 soaks toji in his own mess & he loves it. you’re both nasty.

him begging us to slow down is actuallly driving me insanenenenenenenene. and on top of that he can’t keep up with her libido either :((((2(2(2(/ SEMS OMG <3

just thinking of her teasing and bombarding him with feathery kisses all over his face, and her hand wrapped around his leaky cock. she’s been pumping him through his boxers in slew of wanting to make him cum again. but at this point your infinite libido conflates toji’s extra hard, but really, really sensitive dick… and his hips, his poor hips:(

they writhe uncontrollably, and he doesn’t think it’s humanly possible for you to milk him any longer. to the point where he’s whimpering, and hissing from overstimulation. “ ‘s too much, baby. my dick-“

“jus’ a little more please, toji.” he marvels and thinks he can put his foot down and say “no”, but when you hop on his lap once more and straddle his thighs he groans in sexual frustration, and it’s clearly not the lack of, it’s the abundance of it. you straddle him and and raise to your toes. you’re ready to bounce on his dick once more, and he just gets so hard every time. he grips your hips tightly, and tugs on that eager little tail of yours; scar stretching as his mouth falls open from your teasing of his tip. toji said he was tired, but he can’t hold himself back from rutting his hips up as you bounce and hold onto your ankles. shallow fucking his tip until his cum leaks out of you and dribbles down his throbbing length. 😫

and just thinking about how much of it froths at the base, and when you’re done, he’ll be slumped on the couch. you giving him a hand, literally and jerking his cock to see how the veins in his legs swell from shooting blanks :)

#toji x black reader #toji x reader smut #toji thirst #toji fushiguro x reader #toji smut #this has been in my drafts for forever #WHY AM I NOW GETTING TO THIS🥲

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nonas-third-tantrum · 9 months

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every so often i’ll see a post that’s like “ugh the characters in gideon the ninth seem way older than they are, they were obviously aged down to appeal to the YA market”

and i’m like

HUH

their youth is the point!! the fact that they are teens and young adults and the oldest among them are ~30 illustrates just how deeply cruel this world is!! that children are holding up entire houses, dying in wars, obsessed with being the greatest of their generations!!

mercymorn’s running bit about harrow being so young is not just her being condescending—she is genuinely horrified by how young harrow and ianthe are. especially compared to her ten thousand-ish years. they are infants!!

and don’t even get me started on the kids in nona the ninth, which is even more blatantly about how war permeates every aspect of life, even for kids, and makes them grow up too fast

anyway. tlt is not YA and even if it was, arguments about kids in dystopian novels “seeming too old” will never be convincing to me because 99% of the time…that’s. the. point

#this has been languishing in my drafts forever but I just saw another post calling tlt YA and my brain short circuited #tlt is so special to me in part because it ISNT ya #the locked tomb #tlt #tlt meta

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softartemisart · 6 months

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temple to a god of hedonism that gradually changes those inside to best live lives of pleasure and feasting

if you visit once, and stay for only a few minutes, you might get out with only a little extra softness on your frame, easy enough to work off. if you stay for much longer, well...

theres a growing hunger in your stomach, despite not eating that long ago. but it's a temple to a god of parties and feasting - there's plenty of food available. the dishes only seem to grow more aromatic the longer you stand near them and, when you cave and try a mouthful, it's unbelievably delicious.

you're so taken with the taste, you don't notice what's happening to your body. your stomach bloats from your gorging, and then softens into a wobbling belly that tests the durability of your clothes, hanging lower and lower towards your thick thighs. leaning over the table for another plate, your ass sticks out behind you, round and cellulite-ridden. your figure is soft, swelling, a picture of indulgence.

and it's not long before the servants of this god come and show you another kind of pleasure. warm hands make contact with sensitive skin and you moan through mouthfuls of rich food. they guide you to a soft chair, lean you back, make sure your every want in this moment is fulfilled. one continues to feed you all manner of decadent desserts. several more attend to your body, removing the remains of the constricting clothes you entered in and then kissing, massaging, rubbing every growing, jiggling inch of you. your chest is squeezed, nipples toyed with. your gut is oiled and played with. once they're done teasing you, one hefts the blubbery mass up while another finally reaches between your legs.

the next day, you wake up in one of their luxurious beds, the most well rested you've ever been. you're free to leave, of course. but as the heavenly smell of breakfast finds your nose, you also notice the new set of temple robes at the end of your bed, inviting you to join their ranks

#art writes #wg text #weight gain kink #magic weight gain #wg kink #feedism fic #wg writing #fat kink #tummy kink #weight gain writing #rapid wg #rapid weight gain #magic wg #this has been half finished in my drafts forever and im being too perfectionist about it so it's being posted #im more of a visual artist then a writer so im always iffy on things like this i guess!

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eddiethehunted · 4 months

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i want you to touch it softly (ao3)

believe it or not, this one isn't a wip, it's COMPLETE! rated: m (to be safe, tbh could probably be rated t) | cw: drug use, horny discussion, eddie has a thing for his hair getting pulled (implied) | wc: 1.6k | robin/vickie mentioned, platonic stobin, mutual pining, steve being into hair care and skincare, idiot4idiot, the usual <3 title from ariana grande 'my hair'

—————

Steve’s curled into a corner of the couch, watching the movie with glazed eyes, his knees drawn up to his chest. Robin’s feeling a little buzzed herself, laying on her side on the other end of the couch, with Eddie sat cross legged on the floor in front of her, scribbling away in a notebook.

Without really thinking much about it, she reaches forward and starts playing with Eddie’s hair. He startles at first, glancing over his shoulder, but she just smiles at him and twirls a curl around her finger and he relaxes, so she doesn’t stop.

“Okay, I have to know,” she says, because really, Eddie’s curls are beautiful, just really dry and frizzy and she’s stoned and nosy and curious. “Is this a perm? Or is it natural?”

Eddie looks offended, shooting her a reproachful look over his shoulder and saying, “It’s natural.”

She nods, twirling a piece around her finger again. She can see Steve on the other end of the couch looking over sulkily. Jealous. She thinks it’s adorable, the way Steve quickly looks away when she glances over at him.

“It’s so crunchy,” Robin says, “how much hairspray do you have in here?”

Another affronted look. “None! I just washed my hair before I came here.”

It’s still a bit damp around the roots, so she knows he’s not lying. She gets her fingers really in it, pulls his head back a little bit, and he makes this weird sound in the back of his throat. It’s something between pleased and irritated, like when you pet a cat that can’t decide if it wants to purr or claw at your hand.

Steve huffs and pretends he’s still watching the movie, but Robin bets he’s jealous as hell right now. He has expressed to Robin several times how badly he wants to be allowed to play with Eddie’s hair but he can’t because that’s weird and guy friends don’t do that and he doesn’t want to make Eddie uncomfortable.

As if Eddie doesn’t melt into a puddle of horny lovesick goo the second Steve so much as brushes against him.

It’s not really her place to tell him how many times Eddie has complained to her about his own pathetic crush, though, so she never does. Just lets them both lament and pine and complain to her about how badly they want each other, and how sad and tragic and woeful their lives are that it’ll never be requited love. Pats Eddie’s shoulder when he covers his face and whisper screams into his hands when Steve walks by wearing those stupid jock shorts and lets Steve lay his head in her lap and whine about Eddie’s arms and his hands and his mouth and—kinda just everything.

(It’s only fair, though. They’ve both heard enough of her salivating over the short skirts Vickie always wears on their dates. And that one low cut shirt she wears that shows off her cute tits. The least she can do is listen, even if it kinda makes her want to bash her head into the wall sometimes.)

Steve likes hair, she knows. Skincare too. He likes products and he understands skin types and hair textures pretty well, considering she’s sure he’s never learnt anything cosmetic-related, at least not formally. He put her on some new shampoo a few months ago and her hair’s never been so soft and healthy and wavy before.

Eddie’s hair is dry. It’s kinda fried, even. It’s brittle and tangled and not really rough to the touch, but definitely not as soft as it could be, and she knows it drives Steve insane. Like, Steve likes Eddie’s hair like it is—she’s sat through way too many sexually frustrated rants about how badly he wants to mess it up—but he knows how to help it, and he wants to, because it’s like, his love language or something.

“Damn. Your hair is dry.” Robin glances sidelong at Steve again, trying to project her thoughts into his mind. “You should use a hair mask or something.”

“Some of us are poor,” Eddie says indignantly, jerking his head away. He scoots closer to Steve’s side of the couch, out of her reach, and glowers at her as he pulls his notes to the other side of the coffee table. “My hair’s fine, thank you very fucking much.”

“I’m poor too, dumbass,” Robin points out. “I just steal Steve’s stuff.”

Steve snorts, letting his head loll back against the back of the couch, his eyelids heavy. He’s been quiet all night—he gets that way sometime when he’s high, just stops talking and sits there, quietly listening to whatever’s going on around him—but he speaks up for the first time in over an hour to mumble, “Not stealing if I’m givin’ it to you.”

“Whatever,” Robin says, waving a hand. “Touch Eddie‘s hair, dude. It’s crispy.”

Eddie shoots a desperate, betrayed look at her, then says to Steve, “I will bite your hand off, Steve.”

“Mhm, bet you will,” Steve says, ignoring the warning, because Eddie is all cozy in his plaid PJ pants and Steve’s old hoodie and therefore about as threatening as a small gerbil, “lemme see.”

He reaches out to touch with only the faintest flush on his cheeks. It could easily be blamed on his high, but Robin knows him as well as she knows the back of her own hand. Steve is absolutely losing his shit right now. He’s just really good at hiding it.

“Dry,” he confirms. His hand lingers in Eddie’s hair and Robin notices that Eddie doesn’t bristle nearly as much when Steve’s the one with his hand all wrapped up in it.

Rude. But understandable.

“What the hell,” Eddie complains, but he sounds decidedly less irritated and a whole lot more flustered now. He’s nowhere near as good at hiding it as Steve.

Robin hides a smile when she notices how he’s not doodling in the margins of his paper anymore, but instead twisting a ring around his finger and staring hard at the wall.

Okay, she's more than aware of the fact that she started this, but she’s starting to think that maybe she should, like, go. Give them some privacy or whatever. Save herself of having to experience this.

“Th’s’not a bad thing,” Steve murmurs in his soupy, slow, stoned voice. Robin might not be into guys at all—especially not Steve, he’s like, Steve—but she’s not an idiot, she can tell in a purely observational way how the gravely sound of it could be sexy. She’s not completely oblivious.

Neither is Eddie, apparently, because there’s a strange glazed look in his eyes that Robin is sure has nothing to do with the weed in his system. His adam’s apple bobs as Steve runs his fingers through his hair, tugging a bit near the roots to pull Eddie’s head closer.

Eddie goes willingly. Quietly. Steve looks delighted, a big stupid smile on his face.

She is seriously such a genius. Steve owes her, seriously.

“Not a bad thing,” Eddie echoes.

“No, s’nice like this anyway.” Steve gathers it all into one hand, like a ponytail, before letting it fall slowly, playing with it like that over and over as goosebumps break out over Eddie’s neck.

“How do I—” Eddie sounds like he’s choking, the back of his ears and neck bright red. “Uh—make it better?”

“A hair mask might help,” Steve says, rolling onto his side so he can get both hands in Eddie’s hair. He’s too out of it to notice the violent shudder that tears through Eddie’s body. “You should do a porosity test.”

“Uh huh,” Eddie says blankly. Robin nearly cackles. Eddie has no fucking clue what’s going on. He checked out the second Steve got his hands in his hair.

“That’s the one where you see if your hair floats?” she prompts, when it’s clear Eddie isn’t going to say anything else, too dumbfounded to process anything that Steve’s saying to him.

“Mmmhm.” Steve gives a little smile, pleased that she remembers, and of course she does.

Eddie’s eyes shut and he presses his lips into a firm line at the sound of Steve’s agreement, like he’s fighting some kind of demons inside. Steve’s still got his hands buried in Eddie’s hair, eyes glassy as he watches the frizzy strands run through his fingers.

“Maybe high porosity. Feels rough.” He tugs a little, maybe on accident, or maybe he’s too stoned to think better of it. “Wanna try a hair mask?”

“Uh,” Eddie says.

Robin kicks him, not at all subtly, and he coughs, straightening up a little bit.

“Uh, yeah,” he chokes out. “Um… if you think it’ll help, I guess. Why not.”

God, Eddie owes her too. She’s such a good friend.

Steve’s hands fall from Eddie’s hair as he pushes himself up to a sitting position, somewhat clumsily. He catches Robin’s eye, biting his lip in an excited smile, and she grins back, giving him a thumbs up.

“If the pizza shows up there’s cash in my wallet,” Steve tells her, getting to his feet and offering his hand to an absolutely flustered-looking Eddie. “C’mon, gonna show you how to take care of those pretty curls.”

Eddie’s mouth falls open, gaping like a fish out of water. Robin can’t help but snicker, grinning wider when he shoots her a bewildered, panicked look over his shoulder as Steve tugs him towards the stairs.

She curls into her corner of the couch, pulling the blanket closer to her chin and putting her focus back onto the movie as she waits for the doorbell to ring. Grease is always a classic, and, well, whatever happens between her two favourite idiots next is really none of her business.

She does turns up the volume, though. Just in case.

#steddie fic #steddie #THIS HAS BEEN IN MY DRAFTS FOREVER #updated with ao3 link

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h4ndwr1tten · 10 months

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𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐚𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭?

characters — nanami kento x reader

note — this took me a long ass time to write. if it seems familiar to any other works, i requested something with the same plot on someone else's blog lololol. THIS IS PART 1 AS IT'S A LITTLE LENGTHY!!! dividers by benkeibear.

(am i posting this on nanami's birthday? yes.)

cw — not proof read, established relationship, kinda ooc nanami? like one mention of sex, pregnancy, strong language, arguing, crying, accusations of cheating, hurt/no comfort.

synopsis — the test results are positive and you aren't ready. when you try to hide this from your boyfriend of 5 years, he assumes the worst.

part 1 | part 2

this wasn't supposed to happen. it shouldn't have happened. you both took every precaution possible to prevent an outcome neither of you were prepared for — from condoms, to birth control, to plan b. it had kept you safe for as long as you started having sex. you never found yourself worried about carrying a life in you for 9 months.

so why now does the test read positive?

it felt like the world stopped moving. you didn't even know if you were still breathing. your heart had fallen into the pit of your stomach, your eyes wide and full of disbelief. you couldn't believe it. it couldn't have been correct. the 99% accurate claim on the kit had to be lying. there was no way it could've been true.

it took some time, but you were able to tear your gaze away from the test. you looked up to the ceiling, blinking away the hot tears you could feel building up. you took a few deep breaths and tried to swallow down the lump in your throat, your fingers trembling around the test.

you've thought about having kids before. you did want them, just not now. you were unprepared for this. how do you raise a kid when you aren't ready, when you aren't even married?

then it hit you — nanami's involved in this too.

the realization made you feel 10x worse. if you weren't ready for a child, you could only imagine how he would feel about this. his life was going so well right now. he was happy with his career and his salary, he was content with the apartment you both shared, and he was even more happy to be with you. he had his whole life and future planned out. he knew when he would retire and even what he'll do in life after he retires. nanami saw you in his future, you were always there when he would think of it. but would you still be there if he found out you were currently pregnant with his child?

you two had never fully talked about having kids together. you both were confident that you would spend the rest of your lives together. you've discussed marriage, homes, and briefly, kids. it was never a deep conversation — you only ever talked about having them and how many there would be. but never about having them earlier than expected.

gosh, you felt like shit. utter, absolute shit. you felt even worse for nanami. you felt like you were going to ruin his life plans. you felt like this would be the downfall of your relationship. and if it was, who knew if you would ever recover.

your phone buzzed with a notification, pulling you back to reality. you didn't realize tears had fallen until one slipped from your chin and landed on the hand gripping the test. you stood from where you sat on the closed toilet and checked your phone. it was a text from nanami.

i'll be home soon, my love. do you want me to bring anything home?

he was so caring. always considering you, always putting you first. you couldn't help but feel even more guilty.

hi ken. could you get some takeout pls? i'm sorry, i'm not in the mood to be cooking rn.

of course. want anything specific? are you feeling alright?

i'm fine. you can choose tonight :)

alright then. i'll be home soon, i love you ❤️

i love you too 💕

you shut your phone off and placed it back on the counter, screen facing down. you felt horrible — he was always thinking of your needs before his. would this end now that your carrying his child? certainly he wouldn't want to have to worry about another person in his life at the moment. you wouldn't want him to worry.

you stood from the toilet seat, about to leave the restroom when you caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. your face was bright pink and red, your eyes also red but not super puffy and swollen. some people might think it was allergies, but not nanami. nanami wasn't some people — he knew you better than anyone, perhaps even yourself. he could see right through you, read you like a book. you began to worry what he would say if the pigment in your face didn't fade in time, if he would ask if you had been crying.

what would you say if he did ask? he knows you so well, it's nearly impossible to lie to the man. you could say you were rewatching your favorite show and got emotional, or reading another chapter or more of the book he bought you the other day. but nanami isn't dumb. he would catch on before you could even finish your excuse, he'd know something's up.

you sighed, inhaling and exhaling deeply. you didn't know how this was going to play out. you didn't know how to act or what to say to nanami when he came home. you were just hoping for the best.

the lock on the door clicked once, twice, and then the door opened. you had been in your shared bedroom, watching some corny rom-com to ease your mind. you had hidden any evidence of the pregnancy test. you threw away the box and instructions, then threw out the trash bag you tossed them in. you kept the test, however, and hid it in your purse that was now laying on your bed. nanami wasn't one to snoop. if he wanted to check something of yours, he would ask permission. and if you didn't grant it, he would respect your boundaries like he always does.

"my love?" you heard nanami's voice echo throughout the apartment. normally, you would've been waiting by the door for him and greeted him excitedly, but for obvious reasons, you weren't.

leaving the bedroom and walking to nanami, who was walking in the hallway and you assumed he was looking for you, you gave him a small smile.

"hi ken," you said quietly, wrapping your arms around his waist instead of his neck where you usually do. you stood up on your toes to reach his lips, kissing them gently and not for long. when you pulled back, nanami leaned down for another, a longer one. were you ever going to get these kisses again if he found out you were carrying his child?

for real this time, you both pulled away. you still smiled softly up at nanami, but he was observing you closely, worry swimming in his honey brown eyes.

three things were running through his mind right now: why were your cheeks and eyes tinted a bright red, as if you had been crying? why didn't you seem as eager to see him after work like usual, wrap your arms over his shoulders and around his neck, and kiss him for more than a second? something was wrong. did he do something? did you know what food he bought and were you not pleased by it? were you feeling sick?

"ken?" you asked, breaking him out of his thoughts. "are you alright?"

"are you alright?" he returned, worry still plastered throughout his face.

you then looked confused, though you weren't, slowly nodding your head, "yeah... why?"

nanami stayed quiet for a second. maybe you were just tired, maybe he was overthinking this. but that idea didn't sit right with him. it was like his gut was telling him that something was up with you. but he didn't know what.

not wanting to push you, he answered, "nothing. i missed you though. let's go eat?"

throughout dinner, nanami noticed how quiet you were. if it were any other day, you would have been telling him about your day, the latest gossip, about the episode you watched or the chapter you read. you were barely even touching your food too. you occasionally took small bites, but most of the time, you were just poking it with your fork.

while he was putting the dishes away, you grabbed yourself a glass of water. that's when nanami asked you, "love, are you sure you're alright?"

"yeah, i'm fine. why do you ask that?" you replied unsurely, looking down at your water.

"i'm sorry. you just seem... off." nanami washed his hands, looking you up and down carefully.

that was another strange thing he noticed. you hadn't looked in his eyes when you told him you were fine. you always make eye contact with him. you're never afraid to and you're not one to break it so quickly, much less avoid it.

he was beginning to question whether you were really fine.

you had just finished getting ready for bed, teeth and hair brushed, skin care routine done. nanami had finished getting ready before you, so he was waiting for you by the bed. but instead of reading a book or even scrolling through his phone, his eyes were glued to you in worry. you could tell he was becoming suspicious of you, and you wished you hadn't made your troubles so obvious. your head was beginning to ache and you were desperately hoping that nanami wouldn't ask any questions.

those hopes were left unsatisfied.

"my love, are you sure you're okay?" nanami asked for what felt like the hundredth time today.

you sighed deeply. "yes, kento, i'm fine," emphasizing the fine. "my head just hurts right now. have you seen the tylenol?" you added, hoping that it would be enough to stop his questioning.

"no, do you want me to check your bag?"

you felt stupid for having kept an small extra bottle of tylenol in your bag. nanami reached over to your side of the bed, grabbing your purse. he had pulled the zipper open when you realized what was about to happen.

"no!" you yelped, practically sprinting to the bed and snatching the bag away from him. you checked to see if the bag had been open enough to see the test, which it hadn't, and some relief washed over you. but then you realized how much worse you had made your current situation with nanami.

fuck. i fucked up. i'm fucked.

nanami's brows were furrowed together, his face painted with a mix of frustration, confusion, and concern. he looked you up and down over and over again, gaze switching from you to your bag repeatedly.

"okay, y/n, seriously. what the hell is going on with you? first, i come home and you don't seem as excited as you tend to be. then your face is all red like you had been crying. then you—you barely talk to me, hell, even look at me throughout dinner! you touched your food like, what, 5 times? and then when i try to look through your bag to help you, you panic and snatch it away from me?"

kento's ramble had you silent. you didn't know how what to say, what stupid excuse you could use, how to explain your behavior. you only avoided his gaze and stared down at your bag. the thick, suffocating silence lasted for a moment longer, then nanami finally spoke again.

"y/n, are you..."

he paused and took a deep breath, as if to prepare himself for what he was about to say.

"are you cheating on me, y/n...?"

you were dumbfounded. in absolute, utter shock. how could nanami, the person who you believed to have the most trust in you, think that you would be unfaithful to him? yes, you realized how skeptical your behavior was. but for him to come to the assumption that you'd cheat on him? it stung a little—a lot, actually.

"what? no... no, of course not, kento! how could you say that?" you retorted, finally looking him in the eyes.

"gee, i don't know, maybe 'cause you can barely even look at me and you're very obviously hiding something!" his voice raising more with each word spoken.

you had no argument to counter what he had just laid out to you because he was right. you couldn't look at him for more than 5 seconds and you were hiding something. you eyed the floor beneath you, opening and shutting your mouth as you tried to think of something to say. nothing ever came out though.

a heavy sigh cut through your thoughts. you looked up from the floor and saw nanami shaking his head, running his hand down his face. he was so disappointed, you could feel his hurt radiating off of him.

"i'm going to sleep," he muttered, reaching for the lamp and dimming it. lying down, nanami shuffled into a more comfortable position, facing away from your side of the bed, and pulling the covers up to his shoulders.

"ken—"

"night, y/n."

you didn't know what you were going to say anyways. tears slid down your cheeks and the least you could do for nanami was keep quiet and let him rest. you realized that you wanted to apologize. apologize for the way you had been behaving towards him this entire evening, for making him doubt your faithfulness to him.

you slid into bed next to him, facing away from him as well. your body shook with the sobs you fought hard to keep in, nose stuffy and pillow quickly becoming soaked. you thought that the positive pregnancy test would have been the downfall of this relationship—now you wonder, will this argument turn these past 5 years into a mere memory?

m. list

#this has been in my drafts forever #nanami x reader #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento x you #nanami x you #nanami angst #nanami kento angst #hurt/no comfort #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk angst #jujutsu kaisen angst #nanami kento #jjk #jujutsu kaisen

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indiefilmfatale · 2 years

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could you pls write a blurb about reader teaching eddie how to eat pussy?

uhm . ye s

gif by general-kenobis

content warnings: oral (afab reader receiving), eddie discovers he has a praise kink lmao

"what?" you stare at him, mouth agape, head cocked forward, with a weird tingle withering in between your legs at the mere sound of the words coming out of his mouth.

"i want to be good at it, y'know," he fumbles with the ring on his middle finger nervously. "for when i actually get a girlfriend."

you could tell he had been gathering the courage to tell you this all day, but he waited until you two had your daily after-school smoke session. his small bedroom room was starting to fill more and more with smoke as you passed the large joint back and forth. you sat on opposite corners of his bed from each other.

you find yourself speechless just in time for him to hand you the joint. you take a long hit as he looks at you expectingly. when you don't say anything after you let out the cloud of smoke, he throws his hands in the air. "so?"

you sigh, "okay, buddy. you're lucky i know what i'm doing down there." then hand him the j.

eddie's brows raise as his head tilts down curiously, "oh? so you've... done stuff down there?" he brings the joint to his mouth and sucks.

you laughed and rolled your eyes at him as you started to unbutton your jeans. "yeah, munson, i've done stuff down there, try not cream your pants."

–

he was lying on his stomach, head between your legs, already a little hard just from his face being so close to your naked cunt.

you sigh, nerves in your stomach suddenly forming. you didn't realize how intimate this would be for some reason. you decided to only look at it through an educational lens. you were helping a friend, that's all.

"okay, um, i guess just start with your fingers." you say, peering down at him, torso propped up with your elbows. "but don't go.. in. just start around there."

he hovers his hand so close to your skin you can feel it's warmth. eddie's big brown eyes are bigger than ever as he looked at you, brow curving upward, waiting for your approval.

"yup, just uh, whatever feels right. i'll.. correct you." you wished you didn't sound so awkward.

three fingers spread your folds and explore the damp skin of your pussy. he goes slow, moving up and down around your labia, looking at you to tell him what to do next.

"right, so," you reach down and grab his wrist, guiding the tips of his fingers about three and a half inches upward, where your clit it. you exhale at the small sensation, "that little bead right there is my clit.” eddie's hand stays in its place when you let go of his arm. "that's very important."

eddie nods, making the same motions as before but this time over your clit. you breath hitches as he goes at a tortuously slow pace, relaxing your arms and resting back onto eddie's pillows. "so, uh," you swallow, eyes fluttering shut. "yeah, that's... that's good."

he grins at your reaction. "wow, okay," you hear him mutter to himself. "what if i..." his voice trails as he picks up the pace.

a moan escaped from your lips before you can think to stop it. "y-yeah, mm," you begin to pant, until the pressure on your clit suddenly stops. you tilt your head forward to look at eddie, "why'd you stop?"

"you were supposed to teach me oral, remember?" his lip twitches into a small smile. "but i can keep going, if you really want me to."

"no, you're right." you feel your cheeks start to warm, and you try to remember exactly when the power dynamics switched here. "i mean, you basically do what you were doing with your tongue."

eddie chuckled, "that's it?"

"well- okay. i can't really explain it." you sighed, searching your brain to describe a sensation that felt indescribable. then you got an idea. you sit up a bit, "give me your hand."

eddie didn't even question you, just reaches up and holds his hand over your chest. you grab his pointer, and bend it so his knuckle right above his ring protrudes. god, were his hands always this fucking sexy?

you look to eddie, who looks utterly clueless as to what your about to do. "so you just, y'know..." you look again at the knuckle as you bring it to your lips and begin to suckle at it, practically making out with it.

you peer up at eddie, who's dumbstruck expression has faded into avid focus on his knuckle— until he sees you staring at him. when he stares back, you freeze. your mouth releases from his hand gently as you blink at him.

eddie swallows, "you want me to try that?" he practically whispers.

you give the smallest possible nod, humming a "mmhm" just loud enough for him to hear.

he holds onto your gaze has he lowers his face, spreading your folds with his tongue. he starts with simply brushing over your clit with his tongue, causing a huff out of you. you hear him mumble something but can’t quite make it out.

"what did you say?" you ask.

he pulls his mouth away, "you're wetter. than before."

your mouth falls agape, a bit aghast by his words. then he -very slowly at first- mimics just what you were doing to his knuckle right on your clit.

your head falls back onto the pillows, but you're still holding onto his hand. you have to bend your leg extra wide so his shoulder can fit between your thighs. "oh god, that's really good eds." you say, a little breathless. you squeeze his hand every time he hits just the right spot, noises spilling from your mouth beyond your control.

eddie is rolling his hips into the mattress, also beyond his control. his groin starts to ache from how hard he is, but he doesn't care. all he cares about is earning another praise from your mouth about how good he's doing. he pays close attention to each little tug you give his fingers, each little whimper, so he can drive you closer to your climax.

"shit, eddie, holy fuck," you can't help but laugh, but this only causes him to suck harder onto your clit, your smile contorting into a gasp.

your full on moaning with each wave of pleasure that hits you at this point, squeezing his fingers with one hand and reaching down with the other to guide his head into a pounding rhythm.

eddie feels you grind against his face and he groans into your pussy, the vibrations sending a shock through your body. "i'm gonna cum, eddie, don't stop." you beg.

he doubles down and sucks even harder, and your back arches. a white hot pleasure washes over you as you writhe against his mouth, his eyes glued to you as he watches you cum. you feel him groan again against your clit, and your shoulders twitch from oversensitivity.

when he pulls away, a goatee of arousal coats his face. as you catch your breath, you lazily reach toward his lips and wipe a bit of wetness off with your thumb, then bring it back to your mouth to taste yourself. "so what was all this talk about getting a girlfriend?"

#this has been in my drafts forever #sorry anon #eddie munson smut #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fic #eddie munson blurb #stranger things smut #stranger things one shot #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson fanfiction #x reader

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