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belaephemeral · 1 year

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It's no coincidence, it's a kitty-incidence

Pairing: Diluc x Reader (gender-neutral)

Word count: 3650

Summary: As you spend rather idle, uneventful days at the Dawn Winery with your beloved, you receive an unexpected surprise on what was supposed to be a tranquil, mundane morning with your husband. What’s more is that when Diluc appears to have disappeared, a fluffy critter seemingly fills his absence.

CW: a little bit of blood, potentially excruciating cat puns

Author’s Note: Happy April Fools! (kudos to you if you get the reference for the title <3)

part one (current), part two (coming soon)

Like gentle ocean waves, sunlight filtered through the minuscule gaps of your velvet ruby curtains, bathing the edges of your intricately carved pine bed in a wash of golden and white. Gradually, a slice of sunshine beams across your face. You grimace as it causes you to stir and roughly pulls you out of the pleasant depths of sleep. Vexed, you curse how it roiled the delightful dream of his tender embrace and the spellbinding reverie he enveloped you with. He’s arresting and never fails to astound you with his enchanting visage, his rumbling, honey candour, and his air of sophistication - both in the waking and dreaming world.

Deciding against the idea of leaving the comforts of your plush pillows and warm duvet to dispel the sunlight that creeps into your shared bedroom, you turn your face away from the intense streams of light and roll over to face your beloved. Blindly, you slide your left hand along the pristine planes of blankets, following each curve and bend to reach the familiar form of your husband. As you embark on your search, the resplendent ring encrusted with minute diamonds on your ring finger reminds you of the everlasting promises he dedicated to you just weeks ago. The knowledge that he will eternally be yours, that he will be the first person you see when you wake up and the last as you descend into the nocturnal land of Nod, and that he’ll keep you close to his heart (more so than the locket you gifted him on your anniversary), unfailingly makes your heart flutter and kindles a jubilant glow that spreads from your chest to the ends of your fingertips.

Eventually, your digits arrive on his side of the bed. However, instead of caressing broad, sinewy shoulders, sturdy muscles and light red scars that surge along the expanse of his back or the solid divet of his waist, your hands grasp onto a haphazardly strewn pile of lush fabrics.

Within your hazy vision, you recognise one article of clothing as the cotton nightshirt Diluc dons. Slowly, you rise to rest on your forearms and pat down the heap of materials once more, attempting to clear the fog of your groggy stupor to search for the whereabouts of your beloved partner. Although everything appears as blurs of white and grey with hints of scarlet, something glints within the pile and catches your eye.

You fish out a matching golden band and stare at it in bewilderment. Diluc never takes this off, you realise. Ever since the day you exchanged vows and enshrined your undying devotion to each other, he has never once been seen not adorning this. If anything, you’re starting to forget the message you’ve engraved onto the inside of his ring since it appears to be permanently fused onto his lithe fingers. With how he never takes off his ring, those affectionate words may as well be inscribed onto his supple skin.

To prove your doubts to be false and vehemently reject any suspicions the sight of it discarded here arose in your mind, you bring the precious ring closer to your inspecting gaze.

Unbeknownst to you, your right hand begins to slip into the mound of scattered textiles once again and brushes against a foreign object you’re certain that neither you nor Diluc own. Your curiosity is piqued and inquisitively, you feel a coat of soft fur that seems to rise and fall rhythmically with your breath. Nevertheless, your fatigued mind doesn’t register this important fact and you abruptly clutch the unknown entity nestled within bundles of clothes.

The silent and serene reverie that previously enveloped the room is crudely torn down by a thundering growl and the searing acute pain that bubbles through your blood vessels and blooms onto your skin. Momentarily, you’re stunned at the three clean and precise scratches that line your arm but you leap out of your feathery refuge once the pile starts to briskly move and rises.

Still doused in a mist of drowsiness, your legs buckle and you harshly plummet onto the polished hardwood floors. Rubbing both your back, which swiftly stings with a dull, throbbing ache, and your bleary eyes, you peer at the intruder that has somehow infiltrated your safe haven. You’re rather astonished, to say the least, when a tuft of vermillion surfaces amongst Diluc’s nightclothes with silky red ears tightly tucked back and two cherry eyes which menacingly lock onto yours. The intimidating feline releases a resounding hiss that rattles your head as it’s tail puffs up and stands rigidly behind them.

You try to get a better look at the fluffy predator proudly perched on top of the snow white covers by heaving your sore upper torso off the cold wooden floorboards. However, you are abruptly interrupted by the prickling sensation that singes your right arm as crimson rushes to fill the indentations the claw marks incised into your skin. Through clenched teeth, you wince, voicing a pathetic “ouch” as you are starkly reminded of your fresh injury.

It seems that regardless of the number of inflictions, cuts and wounds you’ve taken throughout your many years of intelligence gathering in the Ministry of Civil Affairs with the surreptitious Valley Orchid, these lacerations certainly did a number on you. Especially so, as the gash tingles with blazing energy and dulls into a furtive smoulder that you’re definite is akin to the aftermath of an elemental reaction.

You supposed that a temporary break from your governmental duties should have granted you peace of mind, in that you didn’t have to constantly be on your guard, and instead, you would finally be able to relish in the customary domesticity of married life. Although, another glance at the ruffled feline seated where your beloved would normally be, forehead furrowed and appearing thoroughly irked, proves that your string of tranquil, uneventful days has come to an end once again.

Exhaling a sigh through your mouth, you surrender to this bizarre situation and slightly curse to yourself at yet another state of affairs you’ll have to resolve. Observing the strange furry critter before you, it’s strange, you ponder, how those dark pools of red summon images of countless occasions his pupils would linger on your form and drag you into the dark depths of his crimson eyes. How the fur pelt the cat adorns resembles the very same shade of hair that frames his beguiling features and elegantly fans over his toned stature and flutters down the length of his spine. How it’s posture exudes a peculiar sense of refinement and dignity, similar to the gentility and finesse he carries every time he enters a room, drawing every individual’s eyes and attention to him, and solely him, and confounding each statement that booms from his being with compelling gravity. It is undeniably uncanny how they seem to share many common features, you stew as you worry your bottom lip and the inside of your cheek, trying to piece the information that you have and the display in front of you, to finally comprehend what is occurring before your very eyes.

Unexpectedly, the ferocious red ball of fluff peering down at you begins to relax: lowering it’s tail into a steady, gentle sway, dilating its pupils in such a way that you find the way it innocently sets its orbs on you downright adorable, and carefully treading across the mountains of tossed pillows and folded ridges of duvet and towards your fallen form. Sensing that it's putting down its previous skittish, cautious and hostile front, you can’t help but instinctively coo, inviting it to settle into your lap. Regardless of the sting that resonates along the length of your limb, you want to offer it some semblance of comfort in what may be an unfamiliar and frightening environment.

With an agile leap and a soft thud, the pads of its paws land gracefully at the foot of the grand bed. Its captivating carmine pupils seem to shimmer with, what seems to be understanding, as it darts towards you at an alarmingly fast rate, becoming a mere blur before a hefty weight hurtles itself onto your chest.

An astounded groan bursts from your chest as you plummet once more unto the solid, chilly mahogany ground, the woodgrain on the verge of piercing your back with the intensity the feline had flung itself to you. Lifting your head to meet the gaze of the charming trespasser plopped onto your sternum, you inspect the unfamiliar creature as it closes and opens its eyelids at a slow and leisurely pace. The feline vocalises a soothing, low purr as it lightly bunts your forehead with its own. From the close distance, you notice a downcast, regretful and sorrowful look swimming within those pure obsidian slits that stare back at you. You almost feel as though with each nuzzle and smoosh into your nose and cheeks, it seeks to rub and etch an unvoiced expression of remorse into your skin as guilt steadily emanates from its small figure and pervades your senses.

Languidly, you raise your unscathed left arm to thread your fingers through its luxurious coat and lightly scritch the top of its head. In response, it preens and melts in your affectionate hold, sweetly trilling at your actions and showcasing its content with the way it curves the end of its tail and kneads your clavicle, careful not to embed its claws into you.

You raspily whisper, lingering remnants of lethargy slightly slurring each word you direct to the cute critter sprawled against your upper torso: “What are you doing here, sweetheart? Are you lost?” Listlessly, your right hand finds itself patting the intruder’s head, “Say, you haven’t seen a rather fetching, yet brooding, handsome redhead around have you? Even if meeting you is quite a pleasant surprise, I haven’t the faintest idea where my husband may have run off to.”

Upon witnessing the shallow gouges lodged into your arm, the cat tilts its head - its tongue gingerly darting out and delicately licking your wrist, writing an apology with the secretion that thinly coats the area above your pulse point. Your mouth curves upwards at its endearing ministrations and you murmur a soft reassurance to the feline: “Don’t worry about it, love, it’s just a scratch. I’ve been through more arduous battles, although I didn’t expect to be bested by a little cutie like you.” Booping its pink nose, you chuckle at the way it twitches its snout and sniffs your index finger as you pull away.

Once you get a better look at the feline, you do a double-take at the peculiar outfit it sports. Glancing at its plush neck, you raise an eyebrow at the distinct embellished tie that rests against the length of its front body, the glimmering gemstone fixed onto the slate-grey silk, and the unmistakable tassels that flit over its fuzzy, plump and yet athletic stature.

You squint in disbelief, unable to comprehend the sight before you once you utter: “That’s quite an attire you’re wearing. It looks just like the very same one my beloved wears. The resemblance is truly uncanny.”

At your perplexed words, the feline shoots a pointed look towards you. Immediately, it clicks. The hints finally click together and it’s as though this cat’s telepathic message is, at long last, delivered to your mind and brought to your attention. Even as your realisation enables all of the puzzle pieces of this mysterious situation to fit together, nonetheless, you are felt saddled with an immense feeling of stupefaction.

Taking one last glance at the messy heap of clothes on the bed and the furry critter resting on your chest, you deeply exhale and hiss: “You’ve got to be kitten me.”

____

Firmly clutching the breakfast tray in your hands, you gratefully thank Adelinde for sending the delectable assortment of dishes to your bedroom. As much as you extol and appreciate her kind and thoughtful nature, for once, you wished the Head Housemaid wasn’t so insistent in ensuring Diluc’s safety and wellbeing.

After you had announced that he was unable to dine at the lavish and splendid dining table as he habitually and routinely did after your marriage ceremony, you both commended and were irked by her unfailingly persistent concern and selflessness over her young master. With one last reassurance, you managed to swiftly usher her away from the potentially baffling scene you definitely did not want to explain. Not without someone questioning whether you were wrestling with the last remaining vestiges of your sanity. Expertly, you hid the incriminating display behind you with your body and the length of the door. You saccharinely croon a final goodbye to the brunette before immediately shutting the heavy hardwood door. Press the weight of your back against the wooden surface, you breathe out a sigh of relief and deftly turn the door’s lock, ensuring that no one stumbles into the mess you’re tangled in on this bizarre and unorthodox morning.

Surveying the delicious, mouth-watering and appetising food aesthetically arranged on silver platters, you carry a plate of creamy tuna and a vibrant orange salmon over to the feline. He appears to have found a comfortable spot atop the dark bronze-studded desk by the large balcony windows of the room, loafing on its leather-clad surface with an air of contentment. Alongside the array of seafood, you place a bowl filled with water next to its form. You begin to draw the opulent curtains open as he treks over to the miniature feast and takes its first bite, sinking its sharp fangs into the fish meat.

Once the curtains are neatly tied to their respective ornate hooks, sunlight penetrates through each expanse and crevice of the cosy space. The sudden illumination causes black threads to swim across your vision. As you wait for the residual particles in your eyeline to dissipate, you internally swoon at the way the beams of light spill onto the feline’s plush crimson coat. It seems to dance along each strand of fur and drenches the ends of each piece in a subtle milky glow. Unable to resist, a chortle tumbles from your throat and you scratch its chin as he briefly resurfaces from the ocean of fish he was buried in prior.

Silently observing your elated figure, the cat swallows the remaining food resting in its jaws before playfully biting your index finger. You let out a flabbergasted yelp at the fangs that harmlessly nibble into the skin of your flesh and dexterously dart away from the creature.

“I yield, I yield.” You repeat and chuckle sonorously to the dignified feline, who appears irritated at the sight of your untreated wounds. Catching onto its glare towards the three clean incisions on your arm, you sheepishly grin, voice twinkling abashedly, “I’ll leave you and your magnificent banquet be, oh brave, noble and furr-midable Darknight Hero,” you snicker at the exasperated gaze he sends you. “In the meanwhile, I’ll clean and wrap this up,” you state as you limply cradle your right arm. Promptly, you settle into the grand armchair by the antique escritoire placed on your side of the room. Setting aside the sprawl of beautifully handwritten letters and rich wax seals, you fetch a small vial of water, a cotton washcloth and a bundle of gauze before tending to the cuts lined with clotted bright vermillion.

Diluc watches as you methodically roll the bandage along the span of your upper arm, reprimanding himself for irrationally unleashing this newfound feral instinct onto you. A deep pit overflowing with remorse burrows into his being and without his knowledge, his ears unconsciously deflate and his tail sinks between his hind legs.

He abhors the idea that he’s caused trouble for you - he doesn’t like helplessly witnessing you fretting over him and being incapable of using any of his abilities to assist in guiding you out of this peculiar scenario. He’s vowed to protect you from any harm that you’ll come across, but how can he complete such a vital responsibility when he barely stands at 30cm tall?

You have always felt an unbreakable connection with Diluc. Sometimes you would ruminate at the concept of soulmates because whenever you’re with him or apart, your souls and minds are inextricably linked regardless of distance or time of day. It is exactly because of this fact that you inherently sense that something is wrong. An innate sensation pricks within the core of your being, urging you - telling you something is definitely amiss. The apprehension that bubbles within your stomach once you fasten the bandage securely to your appendage is confirmed as you peer at the heartbreaking display unravelling behind you.

Your heart clenches as you briskly stride to the crimson feline and envelop him firmly and steadily into your arms. Next, you collect his dangling legs, pressing his warm and faintly quivering form against your chest. Embracing him tightly and ensuring that your devotion and love is communicated through your tender touch, you press a gentle kiss to his temple.

Instinctively, shutting his eyes at your affections and savouring your delightful presence, Diluc snuggles into your nape. You nuzzle into his smooth coat in return, and serenely murmur: “There, there, love, don’t panic.” Hefting his heavy body onto the the dip of your sternum and left shoulder, you give him a few faint pats against the base of his tail. As you thread your digits through his red coat, you console him once more: “Cheer up, sweetheart. The last thing we need right now is to be downtrodden by these series of rather unfortunate events. We must stay paw-sitive.” The irritated yowl that vibrates into your skin spurs you to employ a more joyful and light-hearted lilt as you continue: “Our first plan of action must be to find someone who might know how to reverse this transformation and return you to your original form.”

Humming, you press a finger to your lips as a contemplative frown etches itself onto your face. Once you’ve found the answer you were looking for, you snap your fingers and with pupils twinkling in revelation, you announce: “That’s it! We’ll just have to pay a visit to a certain Chief Alchemist.”

It seems that human Diluc’s indignation for the Knights of Favonius translates even through his feline form. His eyes immediately narrow into thin slits, his ears perking up aggressively, and his tail puffs out, transforming into a plumage of bright and dark reds.

“Oh, don’t look at me like that, love,” you chastise, “You should watch your cat-titude; Albedo may be the only answer to this problem and you know that.” Stubbornly, he huffs, hopping out of your clutches and sassily sauntering away to perch on the sumptuous, velvet chesterfield across the room.

If he isn’t going to come with you willingly, you might just have to resort to force.

With a sigh, you roll up your finely pressed sleeves and smooth out your hair. Deftly, you collect the redhead’s signature outfit and fold them neatly into the leather Gladstone bag resting against the leg of your shared armoire. You clasp onto the golden ring hidden within the heap situated on your bed and safely tuck it deeply into your pocket. Despite having a relatively light weight to it, it remains to have some form of profound gravity as it rests against your hip. A smile spills onto your face as you recall your grandmother (incorrectly) teaching an adorably fumbling and flustered Diluc how to crochet on an idle day at the Qingce Village. You snigger at the memory of her furtively sneaking a measurement of his ring finger by teaching him how to properly “hold” the yarn. At the thought of this, you have a fond recollection of designing the precious band, placing an order through Mingxing Jewellery, and being absolutely euphoric when it arrived perfectly and just as you specified.

Glancing at the feline, who makes it a point not to look at you and instead aloofly licks the light pink digital pads of his paw and lightly grooms himself, you roll your eyes. Even if he may be insufferable at times, he’s yours. And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

After packing a few more essentials and securing your blade to the scabbard hanging from your waist, you strongly tug the great balcony windows open. The soothing draft that billows past is cooling against your skin and the gusts are blowing in just the right direction of your desired destination. Perfect. The conditions are just right for you to carry out your plan.

Furling up a dense woollen blanket into your now fully gloved arms (to avoid becoming a certain feline’s scratch post again), you grab onto Diluc and bundle him into the snug fabric. He freezes in your hold, stunned by your sudden actions. Taking advantage of his dazed stupor, you gently and securely nestle him into the bag. After peering once more into the expansive room, ensuring you’ve grabbed everything of importance, you face forward towards the cerulean expanse of sky laid out before you. Steeling your nerves, you jump onto the wooden railing, reluctant to face an inevitable barrage of well-meaning pestering from Adelinde. You exhale one last time and launch yourself off the balcony, deploying your glider as you drift across planes of fragrant vineyard fields. The sensation of the breeze caressing your face and carding through your hair and clothes never fails to fill you with a childlike glee and exuberance. You jubilantly giggle and yell an ecstatic “Good morning!” to Connor and the employees milling around the estate, flashing a bright smile as they wave at your departing figure.

Needless to say, the critter restlessly rustling in your bag was undoubtedly miffed by the elaborate stunt. Although, there wasn’t much left for him to do than to resign to his fate and enter that dreaded headquarters once more. Burrowing into the soft fabric, he rests his muzzle into his forelimbs and pads of his paws for a brief cat nap. He wishes you were more careful with the way you had embarked on this wild escapade, unsettled by the thought of you being further injured as a result of your haphazard and brisk movements. A silent wish for you to be safe on your journey to the sprawling, bustling City of Mondstadt is the last thing that remains in his mind as he falls into the clutch of sleep. The rhythmic thump of heavy footfall and the melody of rushing water is the last he hears as he enters the land of dreams.

____

Catching your breath, you audibly heave as you firmly press your palms against the colossal, imposing doors and push your body and your partner into the vast and impressive hallway of the Knights of Favonius headquarters. Setting your gaze onto the immaculate, impressive displays lining the walls and inhaling the distinct aura of chivalry and valiance imbued into this area, you stride towards the door, where next to it, hangs a sign embossed in gold with the title “Chief Alchemist”.

You cast one final gaze at the crimson feline, who’s head cutely pokes out in between the zipper of your half-open Gladstone bag. “The moment of truth”, you whisper into the large, still and empty hallway. “If this turns out well, it’ll definitely be a tail that will go down in hiss-tory,” you shoot a playful smirk at your cat companion as it shakes it’s head, thoroughly displeased with your statement made in jest.

Placing your hand against the metal handle, you turn it just enough to hear the muffled click of an unlocked door. However, the sight you are greeted with is not at all what you had expected and from within the study you catch a certain someone announce:

“Truly, what a cat-astrophe.“

Upon hearing the familiar dulcet cadence, Diluc ferociously bursts into the room, leaving you aghast at the display before you.

“Well, look who the cat brought in. Quite litter-ally.”

(to be continued)

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septembersurf · 5 months

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a moment of peace 🤍 ft livia and hadrian from @anathemafiction’s ‘the golden rose’

inspired by this ask

slightly nsfw version under the cut, inspired by my favourite ask of all time:

#the golden rose #tgr #interactive fiction #oc: livia romanus #tgr: hadrian x livia #i love them so much i cant bear it 🥹#my touch starved lil babies. yall gonna be happy in the end if its the last thing i do #me 🤝 alessa 🤝 protecting the two fools in love #dont feel like colouring this one so its gonna stay a sketch methinks #anyhoo! enjoy #septembersdraws #edit: why is tumblr intent on destroying the quality of all my photos im gonna go feral istg

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x-pair-o-dice-x · 8 months

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hehehehhooo,,, finally made some drawings for this that i'm content with–

anyway!!! guess who thought of a new au idea yesterday ✨

it follows bench trio– a group of 16-17-ish year-old kids in foster care who decide... actually, fuck this– and run away together. they skip town, and manage to head to different one– one that happens to

when tommy was a kid, maybe six or seven,,, there was this establishment... craft-y creations. it was a toy-store, locally owned, run by one man. all of the toys sold inside, every single one, from plushies to model trains– they were all made by him. tommy could count on one hand how many times he was able to visit the place himself, but though his time there was short... he enjoyed every second of it. to a little kid like him, it almost seemed like the place was magic.

and then something happens... and he's forced into foster care, forced to move towns.

ten years later, he's had enough. so, he and his two best friends decide to run away, skip towns. and as it so happens, they end up right in tommy's old town.

unfortunately... he finds that craft-y creations, in those ten years, has gone out of business. all that remains is a run-down building.

being reckless teenagers(and, in tommy's case, eager to relive fond memories),, the three decide to break into the building...

...and soon finds themselves trapped in a whole heap of trouble.

one of tommy's strongest memories of the place were the mascots that wandered around the place. mainly, two creatures that were over triple his height. nowadays, he had chalked them up to an eager imagination, or perhaps animatronics– maybe even a mascot suit.

that, as it turns out.... is not the case.

the toys have come to life.... and with how they chase them down, they don't seem all that friendly........

#mcyt gt #mcyt g/t #my art #crafty creations au #tiny!ranboo #tiny!tommy #tiny!tubbo #giant!techno #giant!wilbur #yes i used fr to help make the creature designs. what of it.#i was struggling orz #might mess around with them a bit more to make them look more like toys come to life #instead of just. Creatures.#for the record this au is inspired mainly by batim and mfn #just those two. any other games that are similar to those do not exist to me #not sure if wilbur's design actually. Looks Like Wilbur. but i think it's neat either way fkfndondkdnd #also this has noms btw. you'd be a fool to think that i wouldn't somehow cram noms into this #it's because i'm touch-starved <3 /lh

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dizaryswrites · 6 days

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Me: I don't think I'll write any more reader insert fics, my Red Hood one was a fluke (positive) and it's not really my style Baldur's Gate 3 & Astarion: Me: on second thought-

#obsessed with making this touch starved fool feel loved!!!!!!!#I also have a Nightwing reader insert but it's not nearly good enough to post LOL #wrote it for a friend just for kicks #dizarys talks #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #astarion

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luvdisease · 1 month

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dont read the tags or do this is embarrasing i need to gush

#waaaahhhh i need karlach cuddle #bs that the game doesnt let us cuddle every night bc she would not be sleeping alone for a single night !!!!!#i wannaa... lay on top of her #and wrap my arms around her :3 #give little kisses #she deserves soso many #two touch starved fools. explosion on impact

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britneyshakespeare · 2 months

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you know. back when i reviewed poetry submissions for [insert unnamed literary magazine here], i once got a submission containing only two poems (you could submit up to five) both of which were about the author's older brothers, whose names are dan and john (my older brothers' names are dan and jon...athan) and her relationship w them and descriptions of them were not all that unlike my own brothers. still one of the weirdest things that has ever happened to me

#i understand my brother's do not have the most exotic names in the anglophone world #(although this was an international outlet and we frequently got pleeenty of submissions from non-anglophone countries)#(in fact one of the reasons i got sick of it over time was seeing too many worthy poems be rejected for bullshit reasons #and that seemed to happen in especially high numbers to poems from perspectives of other cultures/international issues #that i found to be very well-crafted and objectively deserving! but u can only afford to publish so many poems a week right #so u have to pass over the vast majority of stuff. so u have to grasp at reasons like 'the voice is too close' whatever tf that means)#(that shit used to pissss meeeee offff. i hate literary magazine readers. it's a fool's job and i can say it bc i've been the fool)#however that being said. what a coincidence #tales from diana #they were good poems too. i think i gave them a thumbs up before they were eventually rejected like most other thigns that are worthwhile #did i ever mention the literary publishing world is bullshit? bc it is #especially especially the poetry side of it. completely bullshit and so out of touch w how ppl read and appreciate poetry nowadays #no wonder that shit makes no money. well that and nobody wants to pay for it anyway #but when it comes to my poetry i have no problem being a starving artist. i never made a dollar from my work #but i don't think my work has ever been worth a dollar. it's never COST me a dollar either #and as far as i'm concerned i don't really want to be appreciated much for it #not that i ever have been. well. lol #but it wasn't about me bc i have reviewed thousands of submissions but only submitted to like... a handful of outlets over time #and having been on both sides of that equation. i do think that that's not for me #sometimes i do think about self-publishing but i don't even think the work of that would feel worth it to me #and if i were to do that i would probably do it under a pen name.#i don't have a collection of poems. i just have poems. thousands of em.#if i ever get around to writing those plays i have outlined in my head i might consider it though #bring back the closet drama

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pawpillart · 1 year

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NOT YOU TOO ASKJDHFBSJKHDFBVSJDHFS WHY SPAM ME?? WHY MEEE?

This is why.

#alex rambles #you cannot win agiant me arty #I HAVE THE LOVE POWER OF A TOUCH STARVED CHILD AND THE LOVE RANGE OF A VERY QUEER 80 YEARS OLD MAN #GET SPAM LIKED YA FOOL #hehe

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kittytheartist · 1 year

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IM GOING INSANE OVER TERUKANE RN GUYSS!!!!!!!!!

#two worlds apart #im listening to songs #and juliet and fool by cavetown are driving me craaaazy #they really do think that they're unlovable and have no place by their loved ones but try their best for them in hopes they'll be enough #AND THEY FIND EACH OTHER!!!!#omg and the way they hate each other is sooooo🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈#ALSO FUCKING TALK TO ME BY CAVETOWN IS SO THEM LIKE I <3 IDIOTS #okay no wait they hate each other because they relate to each other too much #and because love is something you run from obviously #THEY'RE SO TOUCH STARVED TOGETHER #AND SO CUTE LIKE AHHHHHHH #the way TeruKane try to act strong but just want to be in each others arms LIKE AHHHH also gosh the pining is so top notch #THE ANGST THE FLUFF THE THE THE THE EVERYTHING!!!! THE HURT AND (sometimes) COMFORT #dont you just sit back and think about the first time the other saw one of them cry? like thats a little 🏳️‍🌈 but i wont say nothin #wait no really these boys deserve love like the way they hate each other is so denial like hear me out #feeling sick of myself think ill try to be someone elseee can't be hard to create a person in head a version the parallel~#okay i love TeruKane so so so much #THEIR LOVE LANGUAGE GETS ME SO BADDDDD LIKE I'M STAGGERING BACK HERE ISTG #they pine over each other while its requited but they're too stupid to notice #Teru come help the poor internalized homophobic fool #OKAY BUT IMAGINE THE FIRST TIME AKANE GOT TO REALLY LIKE COMFORT TERU ISN'T THAT SO CUTE #their dates would be so wholesome tbh like omg....#okay but they're so silly like them them them them #its so heart wrenching seeing them struggle to love each other and gahhhhhhhhhhh ITS 4 AM AND IM GONNA WRITE TERUKANE ANGST #like they try to love each other through the hard times but it feels like everything tries to pull each other apart and its like the #thing BUT THEY'RE MEANT FOR EACH OTHER PLEASE DONT SEPARATE THEM!!!!!#they're canon tbh .....like🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈 i aint sayin nothin but pretty sure you KNOW what im saying....💅#I CANT EVEN THE WAY THEY'RE BOTH ALWAYS ALONE AND NEVER NOTICED BUT THEN THEY FIND OUT THE OTHER HAS NOTICED THEM THIS WHOLEEEE TIMEEE #LIKE THEY SEE YOU FOR YOU!!! AND THEY WANT TO BE THERE BUT ARE SCARED TO NOT BE LET IN #THE WAY THEY FEEL EACH OTHERS PAINNNNN ITS SO SO SO SO SO AHHHHHH

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kachowder · 1 month

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Thinking about a arranged marriage, in which darling denies their spouse any opportunity to touch them. For reader, they have no reason to believe this would ever be a equal relationship. They believed, if they serviced their spouse well, and played the part of a dutiful partner, they would be able to lead a comfortable life without any unnecessary drama or hurt feelings on their end.

Of course they didn’t take into account how absolutely obsessed their spouse is with them, and how much pain their in each time their denied the chance to touch their darling.

Every intimate act between the couple, the darling does all the work. Weather it be quick services with their mouth or body, as soon as their spouse finishes the darling hops off and makes their way back to their room to take care of their own needs or read a new book. And their spouse is fucking devastated each and every time.

Their fingers grip their darlings shoulder or hair, savoring that moment of contact before their orgasm hits and the warmth of their love leaves them for the remainder of the night. No aftercare, no kisses, and worst of all, they don’t get to see their darling cum. Ever.

“Darling…? If it’s not too much to ask..”

“Yes my love?”

And they’d shiver at the hollow endearment.

“Well..perhaps we could engage in some more intimacy tonight…? I could-“

“Ah.” And their darling would pause, bringing a hand to rub their jaw tenderly. “Well, my jaw is still a little sore from last time, but if you wish I can certainly help you again.”

“N..No..I mean, I could..I could take care of you…tonight…”

“Oh. That won’t be necessary my dear.”

And god how their heart fucking breaks at that, brows furrowing nervously as they try to resist the temptation to fall to their knees and beg. Beg to taste their darlings flesh and finally feel their lips pressed against their own. Their eyes nearly well with tears, the untamed desire burning them to the core. Their darling was so cruel to them.

“But I insist, I can-“

“Do not worry my love. I’ll take care of you tonight so you won’t be so stressed for your meeting tomorrow. Or if you’d like I could find you more suitable company for the night?”

The repulsion in their body would nearly make their stomach swell with nausea at the mere idea of laying in bed with another that wasn’t their beloved darling.

“I’m…No thank you, my love.”

And you, the silly little darling won’t understand why your spouse seems so disheartened. You’d been the perfect partner, anyone’s dream. You kept to yourself, did what you were asked. They never had to care for you needs or wants beyond your allowance and the occasional outing.

You could admit you were married to a very attractive and respectable figure. Known for their kindness and intelligence. You considered yourself lucky as to deal with someone so agreeable.

And there were times you wished for a warm body besides yours in the dead of night. Someone to lay upon after you’ve both been spent.

But that vulnerability was too scary for yourself. Fear that your heart would hurt more if you let yourself feel the pain of neglect after. So, this arrangement you’d crafted for yourself would have to do.

Well, until the night you’d found your depraved lovers head buried between your thighs, moaning like a starved fool.

What a sight to awaken too.

#yandere #yandere x reader #x oc #x reader #x gender neutral reader

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yanderenightmare · 3 months

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TW: nsfw, dubcon, hybrid au, size difference

fem reader

Thinking up so many tasty tidbits about hybrid au…

Being a normal human girl mating a beast and constantly needing to plant your hands at your hips and give him a firm “no” as though speaking down to an actual dog – and how fucking odd it is to him that you express free will as though you shouldn’t naturally submit to him like a normal female would when approached by a male – bearing your wet pussy for him and just begging him to breed you full...

It’s only natural for your beast boyfriend to mount you without asking – like you’re only two animals mating out in the wild. So you can imagine the dumbfounded look slapped on his face when you refuse – saying you’re busy with your hand placed on his chest, giving him a push that doesn't make him budge but manages to make his tail droop until it’s sweeping the floor.

It’s so unnatural to him. You’re a female, and he’s a bull. You should be bending over the second you see him, not ignore him – and definitely not reject him.

Like... he expects you to roll over and let him make you his bitch, but instead, you’re walking circles around him while laying down something you call “ground rules.” Telling him he has to stop biting your neck unless he wants to wear a muscle – that he has to shower at least once every other day or else you won’t touch him – and that he has to stop scenting you with that heady musk that smells of sweaty ballsack and dickcheese oryou’re not letting him touch you at all.

It all makes him pout with a gruff – almost growling at you, thinking a weakling like you should have no say over an alpha like him. And yet he’s on his knees for a taste of your pussy at the end of every day despite it – acting as though he cannot rest without it, as though he would starve to death.

In the end, he does everything you ask – just like a tamed pet. It’s cute.

He was so, so very skeptical when you’d convinced him to allow you to be on top for once. He was so rigid, lying there, belly-up – watching your every move with a predator’s glare as though he planned to pounce on you at any given moment – looking a mix of confused and aroused when you rolled your hips and rode him – hissing and grumbling beneath his breath as though he didn’t exactly know what to do with himself except lie there and take it.

But although you’re able to convince him of most things, there are still those instincts you’ll never win against…

The way he just huffs and ignores you when you tell him to pull out instead of flooding your womb with cum – kneading his cock into your deepest parts while pinning you flat in a mating press that has your feet going behind your head.

Not to mention that time you tried making him wear a condom – to which he only snorted as if it were some bad joke he didn’t find funny – rearing your cunt with his raw cock leaking pre, telling you to stop fooling around and start begging to be bred full of his pups like a good bitch.

BNHA – Bakugou, Kirishima, Hawks

JJK – Sukuna, Geto, Gojo, Toji,

DS – Sanemi, Akaza, Inosuke, Genya

#yandere x reader #yandere #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere smut #yancore #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujustu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen #yandere jujutsu kaisen #yandere jjk #jjk smut #bnha smut #yandere bnha #mha smut #my hero smut

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reginaofdoctorwho · 1 year

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i got asked out again by bi dude! i said maybe!!!

#it's ok this time he hasn't had a girlfriend for like 5 months #but he met amelie and her boyfriend too and amelie likes him!#we got high #him not as much because he had to drive home after so he did like. one puff before the musical we went to #and i get very fucking cuddly when i'm high #none of this is important to this story but it's important to me #so amelie and i are still smoking and he's pretty much sober (after the musical)#and like idk i started leaning on him #amelie was showing us this fucked up lil video and he kinda held me? it felt so fucking nice i'm so goddamn touch starved lol #and too tense to do anything about it sober so yeah #this was like 2 days ago #and then this morning he texted me like ''hey would you like to see a movie this weekend?''#and i had to be like no i have clinical #''next week?'' no i have finals coming up and they're gonna be rough and i need to study #''could we maybe go out after finals? if the answer is no that's fine and i'm happy to be friends just thought i'd ask''#and i said maybe and that i'd like him to meet my friends first and that it also kinda depends how i do on the finals #he got so excited <3 <3 <3 #and now i'm listening to the damon daunno ''people will say we're in love'' like a lovestruck FOOL

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userlando · 7 months

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call me your fool — oscar piastri

oscar piastri x fem!reader [1.7k] summary: he's pretty good at making your legs shake, but he's even better at taking care of you in the aftermath. warnings: 18+ implied smut & explicit language, aftercare and fluffy banter a/n: wrote this initially as a blurb, but it took on a life of its own and I just kept expanding on it until I got this. thank you for all the love lately, it means the world to me!! please don’t hesitate to leave feedback <3

It feels like your breath has been stolen from you, sucking in air through your mouth because simply breathing through your nose isn’t enough. The ache in your lungs remind you of when you go for those intensive runs with your boyfriend, where your ten kilometre jogging makes you tap out as your side cramps, whining until he eventually leads you to the nearest shop to treat you for an ice cold drink.

The sweat on your skin lays like a film, clammy and warm and it takes a while for you to blink the spots away from your eyes. It takes even longer to turn your head where it lays on the pillow, finding brown eyes staring back at you with a smile dripping with so much amusement that you would’ve laughed if you had the strength to.

“You alright?” Oscar asks, like he hadn’t just rocked your world and simultaneously turned it upside down fifty times over.

There’s a lot to be said with the way your legs are shaking, splayed out in front of you on the bed. He eyes them up appreciatively before reaching for the covers to cover your lower half as best as he could. It makes your chest expand with adoration for him, a smile playing on your lips when he scoots closer to you.

“It feels like I’ve ran a marathon.” You reply after a beat, throat dry as you swallow. “Your stamina is on a whole new level right now.”

It makes him laugh when your eyes widen in amazement, reaching a hand up to smooth your hair away from your face. He watches your skin pebble at the touch of his hand, trailing a finger up the side of your throat to your jaw.

“The perks of being a formula one driver, I guess.” He says it so modestly that you laugh, your warm huff of breath hitting his finger when he thumbs your lower lip lovingly.

You accept the kiss when he bends to give it to you, a little chapped from the previous activities but you lick into his mouth like you’re starved. It makes Oscar’s stomach turn, how needy you always are for him. It makes him feel good. Great. Like he can conquer anything if he has you by his side.

He can’t help but trail his unoccupied hand up to grasp your throat, hearing you whine and feeling you swallow against the palm of his hand. You press into his hold, almost urging him silently to put pressure on it but Oscar knows that you’ve reached your limit for tonight, you’re way too sensitive and he’d hate to cross the line even though you’re asking for it so prettily. But he can’t resist his hand travelling down your sternum, feeling the pudge of your stomach and the way it dips when you suck it in, in anticipation. Like you’re waiting for him to touch your centre and bring you to the fifth high of the night.

He stops right over your bellybutton, smiling against your lips when you stop kissing him to glare. Your faces are too close and it makes the both of you go almost cross eyed. Oscar pulls back a little to get a better look at you, breath hitching in his throat at the way your eyelashes frame your eyes so prettily; How kissable your mouth looks. You look well and truly fucked, and Oscar’s chest inflates in pride because he did that.

“You’ve really missed me, huh?” He bites his bottom lip to keep the smug smile at bay, and you roll your eyes even though your mouth is twitching with a held back smile.

You act like you hadn’t missed him, but you really had. Granted, you’d only been away from each other for two weeks but they had felt like years. There was only so much video calling and texting you could do before you grew tired and sad, wishing that the distance between the two of you could lessen and you could touch.

Oscar knows how much you had missed him, not only because you’d voiced it out loud, but because he’d missed you just as much; If not more. That’s mainly why he’d skipped the dinner with the team in Singapore in favour of locking the both of you in his hotel room, determined to make the most of this night before the race sucked every ounce of energy from his body.

“Only one part of you.” You grinned as you palmed the top of his thigh, watching him squirm at your touch as you got dangerously close to where he was sensitive and spent.

He needed at least half an hour to recuperate, but there was no stopping the slight twitch in his groin when your thumb nudged him.

“You’re a shit liar.” He leaned his head down far enough to bite your shoulder, making you squeal with laughter. He always loved how ticklish you were.

“You’re a shit boyfriend.” You said with no heat behind it, the smile on your face defeated the purpose of it. “You’re supposed to be carrying me to the bathroom and draw me a bath. Where’s my bottle of water and the tiramisu you promised me, Piastri?”

Oscar’s smile grew wider the longer you rambled, watching you silently. He loved when you got into these moods, playful and teasing after sex. Especially when he’d wrung you dry of orgasms and could get his fill of you by looking at you, letting you playfully jab at him when just moments ago, you were begging for him to be nice to you. To let you come.

“You’re not allowed to leave this bed.” He said lastly and your eyebrows shot up in amusement.

“Oh really?” You sat up in bed and stared him down. “What if I starve to death?”

“Then you’ll just have to resort to cannibalism and eat me. I hear it’s a trend these days.” He offered and you stifled a giggle.

“That’s a generous offer, I’ll take it.” You said with a nod, scrambling to swipe away the covers so you could swing one leg over to straddle him.

Oscar’s hands immediately found your hips, placing them there as you palmed his chest for support. You almost got lost in his beauty, how he managed to look as gorgeous as he did beneath you. The pink of his cheeks and the redness of his lips, it was all too breathtaking.

“Now, where to start?” You posed the question to yourself, bending down and making a show of inspecting his body. Like you didn’t know every inch of it already.

Oscar suppressed laughter as you hummed.

“This looks like a good place.” You said, touching his collarbone. “But this does too.”

His breath hitched in his throat when your fingers stroked the delicate skin of his throat, right over his pulse. It jumped in excitement under your fingers, and you must’ve felt it but he didn’t have time to analyse your face before you bent down completely to mouth at his neck.

The way you licked and sucked was way too aggressive not to leave marks, but his nerves sang with pleasure and excitement because a big part of him wanted you to mark him up. It would make things more fun when the both of you arrived at the paddock tomorrow, and he’d surely go for a shirt that did fuck all to cover it.

Oscar stroked his hands up your naked back, mouth falling open in wordless pleasure as you found his sweet spot; Right under the lobe of his ear.

You were so into it, his heavy breathing in your ear and the taste of his sweat on your tongue that you barely noticed when one hand left your body. What you did react to was when his palm made contact with your asscheek, a resounding sound echoing in the room and you jumped at the contact.

Oscar was grinning when you sat up, eyes wide and mouth gaping in shock and he didn’t dare to blink as he gripped a handful of flesh in his palm; Watching your eyelids flutter in pleasure.

“No funny business.” He warned you and you opened your eyes to pout at him. “Don’t give me that look. I’m fucking spent and you are getting in the bathtub.”

“Aren’t you getting in with me?” You frowned sadly, finding one of his hands to grab.

He pulled it closer to his mouth and separated each finger to kiss the tips of them. The little loving gesture made your stomach tighten.

“I’ve got some room service to order, don’t I?” He smiled. “You wanted that tiramisu, no?”

You gave him a slow smile as you slid off his body, swinging both your legs over the edge of the bed and Oscar took a moment to stare at you. His eyes flitted from head to toe and you squirmed a little under his attention when he sucked his lips into his mouth; Like he was holding back on saying something.

He didn't have to say it though, everything was showing in his eyes and the flush that was creeping up his neck and blossoming gorgeously over his cheeks.

"I think I want a different kind of dessert." You said, stretching a hand out and wiggling your fingers dramatically.

It made your boyfriend smile, and eventually grab your hand so you could pull each other up. It was a struggle and your legs were still shaking like your legs were bambi on ice, which was a little embarrassing. Oscar placed both hands on your naked hips in silent support, guiding the both of you into the vast bathroom of the hotel room.

"What am I gonna do with you?" He asked the question in your ear, voice low enough to send shivers down your spine as you craned your neck to peer up at him over your shoulder. "So insatiable."

The grin that you were working to keep off your face finally broke out, and Oscar leaned his head down to press a kiss to it.

"With you? Always."

#oscar piastri #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri x female reader #f1 fic #f1 smut #f1 fluff #f1 fanfic #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri fluff

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screampied · 5 days

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‘ IT'S A MATCH: LAST FRIDAY NIGHT ! ,

profile. girl, matching with your best friend on tinder is pretty awkward. hooking up with him, even more awkward. wanna know what’s even worse though? saying that word—i love you.

wc 4.9k

warnings. fem! reader, modern au, humor, size kink, mutual pining, loser boy gojo, unprotected, cheesy pick up lines, praise, touch starved satoru, cunnìlingus, overstim, créampie, i felt silly ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

an. old old draft ;') based on the song last friday night. damn!

“mannn i’m so cooked,” gojo murmurs to himself, pacing back and forth. he’s dragging his feet against the silkened strands of the carpet before a soft pout spreads across his lips. “she left me on delivered for seven minutes…… seven.”

to be fair, in actuality you did. only because you were occupied with doing your hair. gojo being gojo was freaking out, thinking you were probably uninterested. albeit, once you finally did reply, his heart nearly fell out of his chest.

‘how does 7 pm sound?’

‘soid@:$:@) good’

‘um what?’

gojo mentally smacks his forehead, stupidly mashing on his keyboard, barely even letting a second go by once you responded. he was way too eager, he intakes a sharp breath before smiling — replying with a cheesy thumbs up.

he had the dumbest grin plastered on his face. after his best friend, you, advising him to give dating apps a try, he actually does. gojo matched with a lot of women not even minutes after installing the app onto his phone. how coincidental that the main person who caught his attention was you, the both of you matched and he made sure to text you first.

who knew though. that you’d be matching with the one and only satoru gojo. definitely not you, and of course, not him.

despite what everyone said, gojo was a bit of a womanizer, sure. but he was also a huge hopeless romantic.

he started fooling around on dating sites . . not looking for love necessarily but mainly to pass time. you mentioned it to him and he decided to give it a try.

pretty soon, time flew by quick. with a quick snap, it was just about to hit six o’clock pm.

gojo threw on grey sweats and ruffled up his hair a bit. he couldn’t lie to himself, first date and he felt a bit nervous. who was he kidding though, you told him to come to your apartment.

probably wouldn’t end up being a date, but still.

he read through your bio about three times, and your personality stood out to him.

you and him surprisingly had the same interests in lots of things, you loved sweets, and loathed scary movies. “…she’s so perfect,” he’d utter to himself, just imagining the sound of your sweet voice.

gojo abruptly snaps out of his thoughts—he didn’t want be too late, so with a quickness, he starts to make his way to your house.

with hands buried in his pockets, he gives a few hard knocks on the front of your door. about approximately nine seconds later, you open the door and his maw instantly drops. “y-you?”

“hey, y—satoru?” you mimicked the same reactions

the silence was practically deadly.

the two of you stared at each other for what seemed like centuries before you furrow your eyebrows. “satoru,” you mumble, bringing a hand towards your face to rub your forehead. “…you matched with me on purpose, didn’t you?”

“wha— noooo!” he protests, a cute pout tugging against the corners of his lips. he obviously did. you eyed him from head to toe. whilst his hands were buried into his pockets, you could tell that you made him a bit nervous. a light tint of color started to flush against his cheeks before he pulls on his sweater. “heh, is it gettin' hot in here or is it just me.”

“oh my god,” you suddenly spoke. “no wonder you didn’t have a profile picture,” and then you give him an abrupt glare. “satoru. why’d you even use the kfc logo as a profile picture anyway? idiot.”

“oh— it’s a long story.”

you deadpan, mentally face palming yourself.

gojo takes a good look at you, and he’s got a sudden sheepish grin. “woah,” he utters, and his eyes linger for a long time. he’s never seen you dress in such a formal pretty way. he felt a sudden heat rush to both sides of his face before without thinking, he murmurs. “you look kinda hot.”

“kinda? now i’m offended.” you scoff, tugging on your fishnets.

“all you’re getting from me,” he fake pouts. he then comes closer, closer . . all until he’s just inches apart.

one look at your dress and he just wanted to rip it off. you and him were so attached to the hip, he’s never expected to see you in this kind of light. if you were being honest, his gaze that ran against your entire figure made you a bit nervous.

throughout your long term friendship with gojo, he was known to be flirty every now and then. you figured that was just his personality but perhaps he started to view you different. “so,” he shrugs, bending down to your level as a way of mockery, “is this the part where we hook up?”

“well technically, yeah—” and you look right into his eyes.

he was just undressing you with eyes practically, cerulean bright irises roaming down your body before he hums. “…..oh,” and he awkwardly scratches his head. “so do i make the first move or—”

“you’re such an idiot. just kiss me, ‘toru.”

he snickers, and after what seemed like forever, gojo leans in for a kiss.

he was so pretty, he didn’t even have to try. long fluttering lashes that matched his snowy white strands flap closed. gojo tasted sweet, the moment his lips went against yours, you sink into his embrace. he was surprisingly a good kisser, not that you ever kissed your best friend or anything—but for some reason, it felt so warm.

so natural…

your heart, it starts to pick up a bit and your arms wrap around his broad shoulders.

gojo let off a soft grunt, your sweet aromatic perfume wafts right into his flared up nostrils. you shiver a bit, feeling his hands slowly drag up your body. minty, a good way to describe the brief taste that loiters on his breath. he was always chewing peppermint—an unserious guy with a sweet tooth, although this time maybe his sweet tooth was for you instead of casual sweets.

the kiss was passionate, you almost forgot you were literally making out with your best friend.

you did dream a bit about this moment, him holding you all close with his lips mashed against yours. his hand continue to wander, such big hands compared to yours. you slide your tongue against his before parting your lips just a bit further.

“….mhm,” he’d huff out in a muffled groan, and he made sure to focus his hands near your hips. his fingers brush against the thin fabric of your dress before he gives it a hasty yank.

steamy breaths collide against each other whilst each second passes—eventually, gojo’s leading you toward your bedroom.

no bother in asking you where everything was since he technically knew the layout of your house like the back of his hand. “wanted to do this for so long,” he finally speaks in shortened breaths—he’s panting, and you let off a soft gasp once he lifts you up. instinctively, your legs wrap around his waist and he slyly smiles. “you should really clean this place,” he murmurs, walking casually with you in his arms. “oh right, you can’t because you’re always at my house.”

“the point of hooking up is to not talk, satoru.”

“well excuse me,” he dramatically rolls his eyes.

at first you were a bit shy coming to the bitter realization that you ended up matching with gojo by pure luck. by now, things weren’t even that awkward—or at least awkward yet…

you didn’t wanna jinx it though, he leads you towards your bed before you plop down on your hands. you sit down, staring up at him and he starts to pull up his grey sweatshirt. you watch intensely, his abs peeking as he yanked it off before you spot a glance of his dark blue boxers hiding above his sweatpants.

so attractive . . .

you’ve seen gojo shirtless countless times but never completely nude. just imagining him, his glistening body presenting itself right in front of you… phew.

you intake a breath, mentally preparing yourself.

“awh,” he sneers, and you’re so secluded into your erotic thoughts that you don’t even realize he’s practically half naked now. all that was left was his wan-colored sweatpants. he was a tease, your eyes fixate towards his ripped chest—his abs, they were sublimely sculpted and chiseled.

sharp.

you felt like if you ran a finger down his perfectly structured v-line, you’d get a paper cut. his six pack flexed and you had to squeeze your legs shut. it was no surprise gojo had a daily work out routine. he’d even try to drag you to come with him sometimes. majority of the time, that’d go to no avail though. “enjoying the show, yeahhh?”

“shut up.” you grouse with a swift eye roll.

a smug grin curls up against his pink lips before he grabs your hand. “wanna feel me?” and you’re confused by what he wants you to feel until he makes you slowly slide your hand down his clenched pecs. you peer up at him, his body feels so warm— it was brick hard, exactly how you thought. your fingers continued to run down his ripped modeled chest before feeling against a scar. “cute fingers,” he teases, making it trail lower and lower until you spot his happy trail that was just about poking above from the very hem of his boxers. “you should pull them off of me.”

“fine,” you mutter with a puffy blow, bringing both hands towards his lower half. gojo stares, watching you pull down his sweatpants— then his briefs. you made sure to take your time, tugging on the stretchy aqua-blue fabric before within seconds, his length springs out. “you weren’t lying.”

“hm?” he says, watching your eyes continue to wander — he was definitely big, your memory suddenly refreshes of the pictures you exchanged with him, and the carpets very much did match the drapes. his shaft was . . turgid, at least the tip was. it was a pretty flashing pink, smeared with a few droplets of his own pre-cum. gojo was well trimmed, but had a few left over white specks scattered all across his base. he even had a cute mole down near the very edge of his length. specks of white hairs near his happy trail decorated his body, it was attractive. he had a left curve too, it was quite noticeable—a strikingly long vein that pulses at the sight of you, running down the very middle part of his dick and you merely moan.

as you move yourself closer, he’s stood standing while you’re sat on the bed and your glossy lips give his swollen tip a few chaste kisses.

“damnnnn,” he pants, feeling his cock twitch from the way your lips made instant contact with his tip.

the more you stared at his length from your peripherals—the more you observed its color. it had a rich rosy tan. slightly—still the same pinkish color with a brief tapered ridge. he was hefty, there was no question. inch after inch, he stood tall right in front of you. gojo claws a hand into your hair softly before sucking in his breath. “baby wait, i wanna do everything. ‘m already hard.”

you hum, amused—giving his frenulum a subtle lick before backing away, jibing out a, “oh really?” and then once he makes you lie back against the bed, you sit up with a sly grin. “do you even know how to eat pussy? and i’m not just talking about from your 'experience' from reddit or twit—”

“girl shut up,” his tone pitches an octave and it’s quite funny.

always sassy—you watch as gojo strum his fingers against your dress, taking his precious time to lift it up before feeling against your thighs. so soft, he’s always wanted to feel you—especially right here, take in every part of your curves, your gorgeous physique. his lips form into a cute scowl as he pulls you closer towards him. “i know what i’m doing.”

“yeah you do.” you sing along, and he shoots you a pout. you loved the banter between the two of you, toying along with him—he always made it so easy. it doesn’t take long before he starts peeling off your fishnets with his teeth, it was so dirty. you felt yourself throb a bit, edges of his teeth softly pricking against your skin as he yanks the thin nylon material made fishnets that stuck against your thighs.

your back lies flat against the bed and you intake a single breath. gojo rubs a hand against your tummy, you quaver a bit simply from his touch. he’s keeping eye contact the entire time too, irises never looking away for a split second—he mimics the same motion, peeling your panties off with his pearly canines.

it’s lewd, he doesn’t even pull them off all the way. instead, he just leaves it on you but has it rolled down to your thighs. “lotta back talk for a girl this soaked, to be honest.”

“ . . . . ”

you don’t reply, and he chuckles to himself. he finds your lack of an answer quite cute.

gojo stares between your parted thighs and your lips were all stretched—glistening with a sheet coat of your sweet arousal.

“so pretty,” he coos in a low voice, and you watch as he leans in—pressing a soft kiss against your entrance. immediately, his lips gets all shimmery from your own wetness and it’s hot. gojo purposely runs his tongue against his lips because he knows you’re staring directly at him. “my best friend tastes soooo sweet.”

“quit talking, ‘toru.” you moan and you don’t realize how your voice is becoming more and more shaky by the second.

“fine. fiiiiine, can’t have shit,” he grumbles playfully.

you stare as he prods two lengthy fingers against your slit. with a gulp, you prepare yourself. he gradually starts to insert two fingers inside, curling them up whilst it adapts to your warm walls and his arm shakes. “oooooh,” he whispers in a mere raspy voice. sweetened squelchy squelches came from your cunt and it was so loud it rang throughout your ears like church bells on a wedding day. “she’s quite— the talker, huhh.” he continues, and that’s right when he places his lips against your folds.

you swallow, feeling your back immensely arch from his hot lips.

gojo’s tongue swipes against your pussy. the middle part of his tongue skims down and it feels so good, he’s slow at first. he knows the exact direction to go and your toes curl. a free hand of his slides near your pubic mound, applying just the right amount of pressure—he does this so you can quickly feel your sweet g-spot. you do, and a gasp leaves your lips, it’s mindblowing.

already, he made you feel your forbidden g-spot.

you didn’t even know gojo—your dumb best friend had this kind of experience. as his palm presses down against the particular spot, his other hand is still occupied. lengthy fingers curl all throughout your walls, reaching every spot by prodding with just the right amount of deepness.

“f-fuckkk,” you whine, and suddenly your nerves make you shift your attention back towards his slick tongue. as his tongue was lolled out, a pretty clean pinkish tongue. he slithers it by using the back of his tongue, merely copying a sort of vacuuming type technique. the sounds that ran out his mouth was so filthy, your thighs start to twitch profusely and your hands found its way into his hair.

“s—satoruuu.” you’d babble and its only been a few minutes. a few long minutes, your squirming was cute to him. you tried focusing on your breathing patterns but that was no use. your mind went blank, empty like a canvas.

“mhm,” he groans, feeling himself get hard simply from your pitchy moans that reverberate and bounce across the thin walls. his fingers still went in and out of your cunt at a decent thrusting pace. the way you easily swallowed his two digits was just perfect, it didn’t take long at all for him to find your clit. “there she isssss,” he hisses cheekily, changing up his tongue strokes just a bit. it felt so good, heavenly. the way he drags it against your pussy. your jaw hung open with only sweetened sobs and whimpers leaving right past your spit-glossed lips.

whilst he’s rummaging through your vulva, he occasionally breaks away to spit right onto your cunt. it was no surprised gojo satoru was a messy man. he couldn’t help it, he’s fantasized about this exact scenario maybe once or twice. as his saliva trickles between your slit, he grunts as he watches. just all sopping wet just for him. he blows against your entrance just to make you squirm even more.

with his fingers still buried into your cunt, he does the ‘come here’ motion—a simplistically erotic motion where he uses not one but both index and his middle finger to flick back and forth inside of you. right there, oh you could have came.

“o-oh my goddd,” you whimper, his warm breath colliding against your arousal. “i-i’m close, satoru. think ‘m getting close.”

“aw,” he purrs in a sweet tone, using the flat of his tongue to lap up against your clit even further. you’re so soaked—his chin starts to drip with your slick and it’s so attractive. he pulls himself back to grin at you, a dumb pussy-drunken smile and nothing but your slick arousal running down his chin, so sheeny. “suck a little harder, she says?”

you nod, although you were sure your inevitable orgasm was quickly approaching.

your favorite part was when he sucks deeply against your clit, practically tongue fucking you. he had quite a long tongue so it did wonders, it made sure to reach every particular crevice imaginable. “nah don’t run from me now, gorgeous,” he utters sweetly once you squirm a bit more—he grabs on your hips, removing his two fingers just to hold you steadily in place. “give it to me, baby. show me how much of a messy girl my best friend can really be, huh.”

his dirty talk was just the icing on the cake. gojo’s just coaxing you towards your incoming release, all the while—it felt so good. the way your legs quavered, a trembling mess.

gojo’s holding your jerking hips against his mouth so he doesn’t miss a single taste. your mouth forms into a surprised 'o' and it’s like he’s been waiting his entire life for this moment—to be fair, he could have just asked a long time ago.

he was shy though, he didn’t wanna ruin the friendship—yet now that he’s propped up between your legs, eating you out like a starved man, you don’t know how you could continue to be just friends. not in a negative way, but after this—every time you’d stare at gojo, you’d just see his face that was right between your legs that one friday night ago.

once your orgasm comes, you whimper out— a ripple surging out of you and you’re so squirmy.

it was so intense, you fell into a trance, feeling that familiar spark combust and you’re slump back. your maw still hangs open and you’re so cute—only inaudible whimpers, cacophonies of his name, the repetitive whiney, “s—satoru, ‘toru.”

his nose brushes against your entrance before he pulls away—he grows quiet for a brief moment before sitting up, you’re out of breath before he leans in for a kiss. you moan right into his mouth, running a finger down his cute undercut and that makes him whine into your mouth. his undercut, he’s always liked the feeling of you running a finger down there—it hypnotized him in a way, the entire scene was so salacious. tasting yourself on his damp tongue, your legs wrapped around his waist and his dick brushes against your parted legs.

“you’re not that bad of a kisser, you know.” gojo mutters as he finally breaks away—a stringy shiny trail of spit departs and he sits up. “why can’t we do this more often?”

“you never ask,” you breathe, still getting over your recent release—he talks so much, you almost forgot how much of a blabbermouth he was. literally seconds ago his face was buried between your thighs and now he’s rambling to you about a sale he spotted on one of his favorite candies. “. . yeah yeah, lie back now.”

he lies back against the bed and watches as you make your way towards him. he lands backwards with an ‘oof’ before raising his eyebrows in amusement. “oh? you’re gonna be on top? what if i wanted to have you bent over—”

“i’d rather die than let you see me arched over.”

“heh, woah now angel—that’s just mean. after i gave you that teeth shattering orgasm,” he says with a dramatic eye roll. you align yourself with gojo, your arms wrapping around his shoulders and for a concise moment he grows quiet. “hm. don’t really care though, you’re still hot. straddling me like this and—”

you lean forward, silencing him with a kiss because he just wouldn’t stop talking—it was cute in a way though, gojo would literally talk your ear off. he kisses back immediately, feeling you hover against his leaky tip before lowering yourself further and further down. “mhm,” you’d gasp at the current stretch. it was hard to ignore, he was big—no secret about that. due to how sopping you were, it made it easy to just sink right down. gojo’s jaw tightens as he brings a hand towards your waist, another near your ass. with a tight squeeze, he continues to fall into sinful bliss at your cunt holding him hostage. your walls hugged him tightly the more you sank down. his breath was heavy, he heaved and heaved before you’re finally all the way down.

parting away once more, he utters out a needy, “touch me.”

“ask nicely,” you whisper, starting to rock your hips swiftly in place—you were so hot, especially in his eyes. you’re so warm inside, feverish, tingly. gojo swallows thickly, a breath getting caught in his throat as his white lashes flicker towards your waist. you brush a thumb against your best friend’s lips before humming. “touch me pretty please, say that.”

“how about i tell you a joke—” he cuts off, yet moans once he feels you grind your hips in a specific rotation—so good. he’s at a loss of words before his eyebrows curl up and furrow, head throwing back in pleasure. “heh. uh, check, please! know what’s on the m-menu? me ‘n you.”

“…………………..”

“…..you’re right, i should just shut up,” he puffs out, his cheeks burning with such heat. he holds onto your hips before he swallows his pride, speaking in a cute pout whilst avoiding eye contact. “touch me pretty please.”

you smile, trading a finger down his chiseled chest—so muscular, he was perfectly sculpted.

his loved your touch, it makes him ten times harder. your fingers roam against his body and he merely folds into putty, his abs—they clench as you’re being stuffed by full of his thick inches. gojo made sure to go slow, he didn’t wanna hurt you—especially considering how big and how much of a damn packer he was. so big you almost drooled.

he was mesmerized by the way you moved, with a single pivot of your hips it didn’t take long for him to locate that spot. you moaned, feeling a surge of haziness overtake you before you lean in to kiss near the crook his neck.

“man,” he croaks, and each time he speaks—his voice gets more raspy and out of breath. “uh, keep ridin’ me like that ‘n i’m gonna die. your pussy’s fuckin’ dangerous—shit.”

again, he rambles while you’re riding him in the same constant rotation. he falls in love with the jerks, the way you grind and delve your hips even further into him.

it’s amusing to study his facial expressions though, the way his blue irises would roll back into the very depths of his cranium—his pink sheeny lips parting, even his irregular breathing patterns. he was so whiney, your cunt swallowed him whole and he starts to feel fuzzy. hot, you felt so hot inside. it merely gives him whiplash once he feels your hands trail up toward his chest. his chest, more so his pecs—abs, his nipples.

“s-sensitive there…” he pants, and with his same grip against your hips he drags you closer—back and forth, it was so slow. you’re grinding against his body and he thinks he’s feeling a certain type away. you know, that word. this entire view, seeing you top him like this—gojo was about to lose his mind, a fiery sensation pools low into his abdomen. you had him all hot and bothered, it didn’t take long before his thigh starts to bounce.

“are you?” you tease, leaning in to run your tongue against his perky nipples—oh, his reaction. it was priceless, he grips onto your hair this time, moving a few strands away from your face while you’re still riding him before he whimpers. with shaky lips, he begs for you to suck harder. you didn’t even know if he was into something like this, perhaps your best friend was a freak.

a freak in bed.

you wondered if he’d be like this if he got matched with some other random girl on tinder. being this whiney for them, but since you two were close maybe you had an exception.

“angelllll,” he drags out his words, and it’s cute. his tongue rolls a bit and beads of sweat start to race down the side of his forehead. “i’m gonna—”

suddenly, he grows quiet once his cock that was buried into your folds abruptly slips out.

he slowly looks up at you with a head tilt, and you’re staring right back up at him—he’s still panting with his hands attached to your hip. “oops,” he sheepishly laughs, trying to ignore how he was so close to shooting right inside of you. it squelched, you break away from his chest before kissing near his neck. he moans, aligning himself back against your entrance. “f-fuck that was kinda hot.”

“i can’t tell who sounds like the girl more,” you start to pant yourself, and you feel yourself coming close right with him—you briefly bite your lip before feeling such nerves sneak its way inside. his girth, it never failed to leave you speechless. with gojo, he was a bit thick but more so lanky—thin, yet he made sure to reach every crevice of your cunt. you felt him deep, the more his hold against your hips tighten—the more he’s pumping you full. you’re constantly leaning forward, cupping his face before sneaking a few kisses near the corners of his lips.

“shut up,” he rasps, and he’s close. you’re about to milk him dry—his breathing picks up and he presses his fingers right into your hips. strands of his hair runs through his face before he whines, head throwing back in pure bliss. “god, you do it so good—so good, ‘m gonna cum,” and then with pretty hooded eyes, he swallows before reaching between your legs. he runs a hand against your sopping wet cunt that was a sheer mess itself before sighing lowly, “where do you want it, angel? tell me if i should—”

“inside,” you whisper, and your voice was so close up to his ear that he could have just came from your voice and your voice alone. shivers ran through his body, your chest presses against his and he’s maneuvering quicker circles against your pussy. “f-fuck, ‘toru. ‘m gonna cum too.”

his ruffled hair was all in his face, it was cute. you’re being stuffed full—he’s so hefty you’re dizzy, approaching that release before seconds pass and you gush out. it comes out slow, a shockwave ripples out and you whimper—softly nibbling your teeth deep into the inside of his neck.

“oh f—fuckkk,” he babbles, and his voice ends up cracking, its adorable. both of his ears burn with radiating heat before he finishes, dumping a sloppy load of velvety ropes into your cunt. you literally did milk him, you bring your hips to a more slow stop—deeply grinding against him still and he slumps back. he pours so much into you he’s speechless himself, a hand hooked around your waist as you continue to swivel. “i just— i need you—shitttt.”

you stare at gojo and he’s all dumb, panting heavily. his chest heaves and tightens, loving the warmth of your plush thighs wrapping around him. “i.. i think i love you,” he abruptly says, and with his tone—it’s like in more of a question, he watches your shocked stare peer into him and he sighs. “i don’t wanna use dinder anymore, i— i just want you.”

“it’s called tinder, satoru,” you kiss near the side of his lip. “and i love you too, dummy.”

“really?” he looks at you, still smothered with a look of fatigue—he could go for more rounds but he needed a minute—plus he may or may not have a cramp in his leg. “soo when’s the wedding then?”

you deadpan and he sheepishly smiles at you, he’s still got a firm grip on your waist.

the feeling of gojo’s remains of cum just seeping down your thighs as you straddled him—still with his twitching shaft inside made you kiss your teeth a little. “i’m sure you’ll get cold feet, you’re scared of literally anything.”

“pft. girl, that’s not even remotely true. do you realize who you’re talking to?”

the arrogant gojo came back — you roll your eyes and he slyly grins, yet all the meanwhile he’s holding you close against your chest. you let him kiss you once more before you both pull away once his phone suddenly beeps.

a loud screeching notification . . you were assuming it was a text. he feels you shift a bit, turning to see what it was but pulls you closer towards him, deepening the kiss. you give up, locking your arms around him once more, preparing to start up your hips again.

oh, he tastes candied, sweet…

you moan straight into his mouth before the phone ends up beeping again and again.

consistently until it starts to get annoying, gojo grunts, departing from your honeyed lips. “who’s texting me, angel? thought i turned tinder notifications off.”

you grab his phone, it brights up from your fingertips hovering against the screen before you squint. “uh, it says . . . suguru geto?”

he repeats. “suguru ge—” and then he timorously runs a hand through his hair with a raised eyebrow. “oh. eh, what’d he say?”

you pause for a long moment before reading the message, by long—seven consecutive seconds to be exact, your lip twitching, slowly realizing as you skim through the text by this ‘suguru geto.’

“. . . he says that he had fun last night.”

“oh!”

2K notes · View notes

pileofmush · 7 months

Text

luffy is for the sad, pathetic, touch-starved bitches. the ones who shiver at the mere brush of skin. who wince whenever their friends go in for hugs, unsure of where to put their arms. the ones who are so, so aware of their proximity to others. so careful not to brush fingers when walking side to side with a peer, or when handing a pencil to a friend, because they’re sure that one affectionate squeeze of the arm could leave their innards a puddle at their feet, creeping toward the nearest drain.

when you meet luffy, you think he’s one to be admired, not touched. you see the way he infects everyone around him with his reckless abandon. hanging off shoulders and dragging people to and fro. his crewmates are used to it. they scoff and wiggle under his weight for show: for there’s a sense of relief when monkey d. luffy has his eyes on you. you can tell in the automatic decompression of their shoulders, in the languid way they turn to him—saplings curving toward the sun.

you see it, and you envy it. respect it. respect him. but that’s the extent of your thoughts on the matter.

you never considered that he would turn his sights on you.

but he does.

he picks you up like you’re something shiny, holds you up to the light and squints. and whatever he finds must be satisfying, because after that, he doesn’t put you down.

it overwhelms you, at first. he tugs on your cheek at the sight of a frown, like you’re the one made of rubber, and your heart does a funny jig that’s actually not funny at all. he pokes you in the ribcage to grab your attention, and ignores you when you try to tell him that a verbal cue would work just as well. he grabs your hand, instinctively twining your fingers, and pulls you along when you stop in your tracks.

and you feel—you feel like a puddle. be careful your mind warns, or you’ll slip.

but luffy’s there to catch you when you fall.

and that’s what’s so terrible about him, you think. he’s the question and the answer.

and he’s burrowed himself under your skin.

how foolish of him to touch you so casually and expect you not to revel in it. not to crave his pokes and his prods more than you crave air. how foolish of him to drape himself over you like a weighted blankie and not expect you to desire him by your side, always, to keep the cold at bay. he’s a fool and you’re a pauper.

but, sometimes, you think he knows what he does to you. he has to. oh, how he’ll laugh when he catches you staring at his hands. bound over until he’s right in front of you, place a thumb under your chin and tilt until your gaze meets his. his eyes are dark, but so, so bright. you want to look away. you don’t.

everything is so easy for him. it's unnerving. he plops his head in your lap one day with a carefree grin. you still—hold your breath like a child playing hide and seek. he cracks open an eye, like he can read your thoughts. or maybe he can just feel you tremble.

“what’s wrong?”

you rack your brain for an answer he could understand. “what do you want me to do?” you hedge.

luffy furrows his brows. “whatever you want,” he says.

“no, i mean—where do you want me to touch?”

he shrugs. “wherever you want.”

and you feel—you feel like you want to run your hands over every inch of his skin until you have a mental map of his body you could navigate through touch alone. you want to put him in your mouth. you want to inhale him like a drug, want him to burn the back of your throat 'til it stings. you want… him.

you settle for caressing his jawline. tracing the slope of his nose. his eyes flutter shut, and you pause, but he grabs your hand and plants it firmly on his face. and it feels, it feels like you’re the question and he’s the answer. it feels like maybe, just maybe, you’re okay with becoming a puddle of a person, for him.

#mushy writes .𖥔 ݁ ˖#luffy x reader #monkey d. luffy x reader #one piece x reader #one piece #one piece imagines #one piece fanfiction #fluff #one piece fluff #pining #tw: drug mention #m.luffy #m.one piece #battle scarred;

2K notes · View notes

m0llygunn · 8 months

Note

Hello! Can I request oneshot with Eddie and virgin reader?

Something like when they're talking casually and she confesses that she feels so insecure about being virgin at her age (22) when everyone she knows has boyfriends/girlfriends and had first sex a long time ago. But she hasn't even kissed anyone and she doesn't know how it works.

(She has also a big crush on Eddie but she's shy about it)

How do you think Eddie would react?

It's so personal for me but if you're not comfortable with this idea it's okay ☺️

Thank you for your time!

hi! sorry for how long it took! I didn't want to write something too too similar to Eddie's Notes, so it took me a minute to think something up, hope thats okay!

also this is my first request!! thank you! I hope you like it :)

it's not too explicit but 18+ only please!

wc: 2.4k+

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

“How much do you wanna bet they’ll be fucking within the hour?” Eddie whispers, leaning in close enough for you to hear him.

“Huh?” you reply, catching Eddie’s gaze. He nods back to the couple you’ve both been sparring glances at ever since you sat down.

You and Eddie stopped at the diner to get late dinner after hanging out with the group at Steve’s house. He was just going to drive you home, but he insisted he was starving and you both had to stop for food. You’re not complaining, you’ve always had quite the soft spot for Eddie and more time with him is always welcomed.

You both sat at the back of the diner on the same side of the booth as Eddie insisted it was the best spot for people watching. Sitting in the other back corner of the restaurant was some girl you hardly recognized from high school and a guy who you assumed was her date.

To you, it looked innocent. They both sat on the same side of the booth, probably doing the same thing you and Eddie were doing. Their shoulders were just barely touching and they were making quick, shy glances at one another. To you, you thought that maybe it was a first date due to their nervousness, so for Eddie to think they’ll be fucking within the hour… you couldn’t help but look at him in pure confusion.

“His hand’s been on her thigh the whole night and she’s been slowly inching it up, see,” he explains in a low voice, motioning down to under their table. You spare another glance and just as he said, their hands are just nearing the hem of her skirt.

“I didn’t notice,” you say quietly, refocusing your attention on your food, picking at your fries.

To you, they looked innocent. You thought their nervousness was because it was a first date. What a stupid thing to think.

“Look, look,” Eddie says excitedly, leaning further into you, laying his arm across the back of the booth. You glance over as the guy's hand fully travels under the girl’s skirt.

“Eddie, I can't watch that,” you say, turning away out of embarrassment for yourself and the couple.

“What’s wrong? Never fooled around in public before?” he teases, his arm behind you coming forward just enough to nudge your shoulder.

“No,” you say quietly, throwing down the fry you’ve been swirling around on your plate before crossing your arms over your chest.

“What?” he laughs and you shrug.

No, you haven’t fooled around in public. You haven’t fooled around, full stop. Not even a kiss. Not even a hand hold. Not in public nor in private. Nothing.

“You’re telling me you haven’t gone on a date and the guy hasn’t gotten a little handsy with you?” Eddie teases further.

You’d have to go on dates for someone to get handsy with you. You shrug again, just faintly shaking your head. You turn your face away from Eddie only to be met with the sight of the guy's hand all the way up the girl's skirt— something you really don’t want to see. You redirect your gaze forward, having nowhere else to look at this point.

“I don’t believe you,” he laughs, hand nudging your shoulder again. You shrug again, sighing heavily.

“Eddie. I don’t go on dates,” you say, flatly.

“Me neither really. I guess, it’s kind of an old school thing,” he says, taking a sip of his drink. He clearly doesn’t understand what you mean. You brave a glance at Eddie. You like him. You have for a while.

“Eddie, can I tell you something really embarrassing?”

He sets his drink down, and while you go back to avoiding his gaze, you can tell he’s making every attempt to meet yours. You look at him for a split second before looking down at the table once again.

“Yeah, of course,” he says quietly. You can feel his hand grazing your shoulder, fingers just barely brushing over your skin. As nervous and embarrassed as you are to say what you’re about to say, his light, gentle contact is sort of relaxing, soothing in a way. Eddie’s always been kind, you know he won’t be mean about it, that’s just not in his nature, but it’s still something you’re insecure about.

“I don’t go on dates, or do anything like that,” you say, nodding your head over to the couple. His eyebrows raise before he relaxes into a light laugh, like he expected you to say something different maybe.

“Okay… not everyone’s into public stuff, it’s fine,” he smiles. His hand settles completely on your shoulder and that gives you the courage to just blurt it all out.

“I’m a virgin, Eddie,” you say, hushing your voice.

“Oh?” he says, in a short sort of quiet gasp. If you thought he expected you to say something else earlier, you can tell that he really didn’t expect you to say that.

“Yeah,” you hum, hoping he’ll give you some other reaction other than his blank stare.

“Oh,” he says again, his eyes shifting down to your crossed arms before back up to meet your gaze. You cower under his look, regretting saying anything.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know why I said that. It’s so embarrassing.” You say, shifting in the seat, not sure if you want to get up and leave or just hope that the earth opens up and swallows you whole. Eddie’s hand on your shoulder grows more firm, keeping you still.

“No— no. I’m just... I didn’t know. Is it… like, on purpose?” he asks tentatively, keeping his tone soft.

“No,” you answer, shrinking into yourself as the burning from your cheeks turns into your whole body lighting aflame.

“Hey, it’s okay,” he says, leaning into you, his hand on your shoulder pulling you in closer to him at the same time.

The couple draw both yours and Eddie’s attention as the girl giggles loudly. When you look over at them, they’re both quickly shuffling out of their booth. The guy wraps his arm around her shoulder, pulling her into a kiss before taking her hand and guiding her out of the restaurant. It makes your stomach sink because that’s exactly what you’ve never had and it’s mocking you right to your face.

“It’s not okay, Eddie, it’s embarrassing. Like, that—” you say, motioning to the direction that the couple just left in. “That’s what normal people my age do. Everyone’s had relationships and I haven’t done anything,” you say hastily, feeling entirely too fed up with yourself for being in this situation. It’s hard to not be upset with yourself when people around you are constantly reminding you how behind you are, even without them knowing it.

Eddie squeezes your shoulder lightly. “I think you forget who you’re talking to right now,” he laughs.

“Eddie, you’re not a virgin,” you state.

“No, but I was. For a long time. Nobody was exactly lining up to get with the satanic super senior freak,” he says, adding emphasis to the names he’s been called over the years. You know he’s just saying this stuff to make you feel better about yourself, and it makes you feel worse. He shouldn’t have to put himself down. Eddie’s the best and it’s not fair for him to do that.

“Yeah, but you’re not a ‘satanic super senior freak’. You’re cool, you’re in a band, you’re attractive. So many people would be lucky to be with you. It's different, you’re hot and funny— and you’re not 22 years old and still a virgin,” you blurt out, squeezing your folded arms over your chest harder. You shift in your seat again, contemplating getting up, but Eddie’s hand on your shoulder pulls you in even closer to him until your shoulder meets the edge of his chest and your hip meets his.

“Hey. It’s okay. I’m not judging you, you’re fine,” he says, softly.

“But—”

“I’m serious. If that experience hasn’t happened yet, it’s no big deal.”

You deflate into yourself, feeling the embarrassment burn hot inside of you. Eddie shifts, facing you but you keep your head down, avoiding his gaze. His free hand landing on your thigh startles you, making you look up at him in surprise. You’re met with a soft smile, like he knew that would get your attention.

“You know, you’re attractive too. Very pretty. Just because some idiot hasn’t made the moves on you yet, doesn’t mean you aren’t.”

“Don’t say stuff just to be nice,” you mumble, feeling your cheeks heat for an entirely different reason.

“I’m serious. I wouldn’t lie to you. You’re smart, and funny, and I like being around you,” he says, leaning in even closer, close enough for you to feel his breath on your cheek.

“Eddie, I haven’t even kissed someone before,” you say, turning to him abruptly. You're nearly nose to nose with him, and it makes your heart beat too fast. You pull back a few inches, looking at Eddie but his gaze stays low on your face.

“Is it a bad time for me to say I’ve been dying to kiss you?” he asks, eyes still lingering low, and you suddenly realize it’s your lips he’s focusing on.

“What?” you say, your brows pinching in confusion.

“I want to kiss you,” he repeats with clarity, eyes meeting yours. You shake your head, surely this is a joke.

“Stop making fun of me,” you huff, uncrossing your arms. You put your hand over Eddie’s to pry it from your thigh. He let’s go, taking your hand in his instead, making you stop dead in your tracks.

“Why do you think I brought you here? Why do you think we’re sitting in the back of the diner?” he says, raising his brows. “And it’s not just because I wanted to spy on the couple who was practically fucking back here.”

“I don’t know.”

“Because I’ve been dying to kiss you. It’s awfully hard to get you alone, you know?” he says. He smiles at you softly, squeezing your hand in his. Your stomach flutters. You’ve thought about this moment, wanted it so badly— yet something inside of you still holds you back.

“I don’t know how,” you say, feeling flustered. He squeezes your hand, dipping his face to meet your gaze.

“It’s easy, just come closer,” he whispers. You do as he says and he hums lowly. His hand on your shoulder moves to the back of your head, keeping you moving into him at a steady pace and he inches forward, meeting you in the middle.

You let your eyes flutter shut, and you feel his lips on yours, light as a feather. He presses into you more firmly, and when his lips start to move, you freeze up, not knowing what to do. His hand on the back of your head moves to your neck, caressing you softly— like an encouragement. He slows down and you take the leap, following his lead. You match his pace, moving your lips like he does, copying the movements, and he hums again— like a praise this time.

“Easy, isn’t it?” he says, just barely moving away from your lips.

“Yeah,” you agree breathily, feeling like your whole body is tingling.

“You’re a natural,” he says. You feel his breath against your lips and you don’t know if you want to run away or lean in for more. He doesn’t give you the chance either way before he’s tugging you closer to his chest so your head rests on his shoulder. His hand guides you to look up at him.

“I like you for you. Not the experiences you have or haven’t had,” he says, meeting your gaze. His words make your stomach explode with butterflies but your head stops you from letting yourself believe his sentiment.

“Don’t you think it’s embarrassing though?” you ask.

“Would you think it was embarrassing if it were the other way around? Would you like me less if I were a virgin?”

“No,” you reply honestly. You would never like Eddie less for something superficial like that. The way he looks at you so softly is a testament to how good he is, you wouldn’t like him any less even if he were a virgin.

“Things happen at different times for people. I’m sure you’ve done all kinds of things I haven’t done before… like graduating on your first try,” he says with a smirk.

“Don’t put yourself down just to make me feel better,” you say, leaning further up towards him, squinting your eyes into a glare so he knows you’re serious.

He laughs at you, nodding his head gently before continuing.“I’m just saying, sex isn’t the end all be all of who you are. Not to sound preachy, but it’s only embarrassing if you let it embarrass you— and it shouldn’t. At all. Ever,” he emphasizes, rubbing his hand against your side. His lips quirk up into a smirk—one you’re familiar with and know that it typically means he’s up to no good. “And if you ever want to not be a virgin, I’m right here,” he says, digging his fingers into your ribs, making you laugh.

It was a joke— him being there if you ever wanted to not be a virgin, but then it was the truth. When Eddie drove you home, he helped you brush up on your kissing skills. Right before you went inside for the night, he asked you on a date.

While it didn’t happen that night or even that week, it did happen eventually. And when it did, Eddie was slow with you. He was patient with you, and made sure you were comfortable the whole time. You’ve always heard the romanticized versions of people losing their virginity, and how it was so perfect, and this or that, but with Eddie, it really was. He was someone you cared for and trusted and that’s what made it perfect.

He quelled all your negative thoughts. He made sure you knew that your sex life didn’t dictate who you were. What experiences you had or didn’t have doesn’t make you or break you.

He took you on a date, he kissed you, held your hand, held you. He took you on more dates, called you his, did all the things you dreamt about— the things you were worried you would never get.

Everything you hadn’t done, you did with Eddie. For a long time you thought you were missing out. In some ways, maybe you were, but if you had to choose, you’d do it all over again exactly the same, as long as you’d get to do it all over again with Eddie.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

thank you again!

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