#utterly unreachable' | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

rippersz · 10 months

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𝑨 𝑳𝒆𝒔𝒔𝒐𝒏 𝑾𝒆𝒍𝒍-𝑻𝒂𝒖𝒈𝒉𝒕:

̟ ˙ ̟ ˙ ˖ ̟ ˙ ˖ ˙̟ ˙ ̟ ˙ ˖ ̟ ˙ ˖ ˙̟ ˙ ̟ ˙ ˖ ̟ ˙ ˖ ˙̟ ˙ ̟ ˙ ˖ ̟ ˙ ˖ ˙

(A Dom!Larissa Weems x Sub!Reader one-shot; NSFW) (BDSM; powerplay; blindfolds; mirror sex; explicit language; body image; petplay; bondage; etc.) - 16 pages of pure smut. Around 7K words.

̟ ˙ ̟ ˙ ˖ ̟ ˙ ˖ ˙̟ ˙ ̟ ˙ ˖ ̟ ˙ ˖ ˙̟ ˙ ̟ ˙ ˖ ̟ ˙ ˖ ˙̟ ˙ ̟ ˙ ˖ ̟ ˙ ˖ ˙

“I’m starved, darling.”

Her voice was a mere whisper in your ear, like the snake that tempted Eve. Soft and succulent and utterly delicious. You could feel the sweet of it run down the side of your lip and dribble down your chin; a result of your obedience. As if she was holding the unholy apple above your mouth, coring it and watching with delight as its juice raced over the plane of your lolling tongue. That delighted her as well, watching the way it twitched - utterly uncontrollable. Done by the body’s functions alone. You could envision her smile behind the dark cloth covering your eyes; that smirk, all red lipped and evil while soaking in her control. Knowing she had it was something intoxicating to her - like a drug you slipped into her palm by merely existing. She said sit and you sat. She said put your hands behind your back and you did. She said jump and you asked how high. She said stick out your tongue and out your tongue went. Like a gift.

“Do you know what I’m craving, sweetheart?” The warmth of her breath was something handmade by the gods. It left you shuddering and shaking your head - sparked purely by the innate need to please.

“No? No idea? Not even an inkling?” Her tone was condescending. Wicked. Lilting and full of fake kindness. It had your heart running wild, jumping off of the edge of your ribcage like a swimmer with a diving board. Her eyes, for you could feel their burn, were tracing over every inch of your body; admiring what was hers. What was all hers. The only thing you could do (if you didn’t wish to break her rules) was shake your head again, insisting silently that you didn’t know what she craved but that you wanted to- you really wanted to- please- please she just needed to say-

“Dumb little thing… I’m hungry for you, pet.”

And strong cold hands wrapped around your shoulders, laying long fingers down- one… two… three… four… five… allowing them to clench with strength that hinted at something stronger. Bigger. From an outsider’s perspective, you probably looked like dragon’s prey. With the beast standing over you, weighing judgment for your sins, trapping you within its hold so you couldn’t get away. You made a brief mental note to share that metaphor with Larissa once the scene was done. She would surely enjoy the thought of adding you to her shiny horde. ‘My most precious bit of treasure,’ she’d murmur with warm delight…

Oh it would be such a far cry from the chill that ran through your bones then, biting into your knees as you sat there on the floor. Poised for her. Larissa’s very own Galatea… carved perfectly from soft skin instead of hard stone. Glowing with a light not from Aphrodite but from pleasure; absolutely ravished in the attention of a salacious woman. Of your salacious woman. With her sapphire eyes and carmine lips and sweetened breath and porcelain skin and platinum hair and strong legs and hands and arms… like someone plucked the forbidden fruit from Eve’s garden and morphed the apple into a woman. A woman so unreachable… so untouchable that not even you could move to brush the slightest bit of your fingertips across the smooth surface of her kitten heels. The same kitten heels that framed your kneeling body… ever so close to the quivering hands that were bound and resting against the small of your back.

You were sweating, you realized. Only lightly - but you felt as though a flame were burning you from the inside out. Making your body hot to the touch and creating a cool contrast as soon as Larissa’s palms settled. You reveled in the feeling. You reveled in your helplessness.

You reveled in your submission.

“Are you willing to give yourself up to me, little one?” Your lover’s voice was soft and cloying. Deceptively innocent and light. As if she didn’t know your answer - but she did. She always did.

And after a moment of silence, one where you felt suspended in time, hesitant to talk due to earlier commands, Larissa’s deep chuckle met your ears.

“Good girl… you may speak now, darling. Answer me.”

And so you did. Your tongue felt strange when you finally pulled it back into your mouth, but after a quick swallow and clearing of your throat, you croaked out a small “Yes.” She was quick to rectify your mistake.

“Yes, who?”

“Yes, Mistress.”

Both of you seemed to let out dual quiet sighs of relief as soon as the title passed over your lips. It was your safe haven. Your middle ground. The thing that tethered both of you to reality and kept you rooted within the moment; reminding you both of your trust. She was your Mistress. You were her puppy. Her darling. Her sweet girl. Her disgusting little whore. Her everything. She told you to jump and you did. She told you to speak and you did. She told you to hold out your hands for them to be bound behind your back and you did. ‘Stick out your tongue, pup. No speaking until I say so, understood?’ ‘Back straight, thighs together… there we go. Good girl~’ ‘So pretty for me… are you ready to begin?’ And sometimes the domination was far from sexual. Sometimes it was just her making sure you ate. Sometimes it was just her falling asleep with her arms around your body. Sometimes it was just her holding your hand in public and giving it two squeezes to discreetly ask if you were alright.

The push and pull, to put it simply, was marvelous.

And there were occasions, too, when Larissa wasn’t feeling it. When the world tipped one of her scales a bit too far and when the personalities of others became trying and finicky. During those times, during those sacred moments, you took over. And the beauty that stemmed from that was far more abstract - less concrete and more flowing. You were not Larissa’s Mistress, but she was your baby. Your Larissa. Your beautiful girl. And you cherished the moments in which she’d allow you to wind your arms around her thighs, tug her closer, and love on the heaven between her legs until she was shaking and gasping and pleading and pulling your hair and getting so close- so cl-close- so close close close closeclosecl- close!- only to let out a loud long whine when you reared back at the last second, taking her pleasure with you. Yes yes yes, such submission from your strong intelligent lover was an ego boost to the highest degree.

But with each indulgence came a price. And every time you felt yourself trip over your power, nearly righting yourself and grasping control, a cool strong hand pressed against the tender spot between your shoulder blades and pushed you over the metaphorical edge. Knocking you to your knees. Wrapping a fistful of your hair over her knuckles, letting it pool into her palm, just so she could pull your head back and remind you of your real place.

Beneath her. Always beneath her….

The most adorable little pet she’d ever had the pleasure of encountering.

“That’s what I like to hear,” Larissa’s voice interrupted your train of thought, emanating a strong sense of smug satisfaction.

You felt the need to squirm in place; to check your posture and reset your pose; to straighten your shoulders and flex your fingers; but your Mistress’s hands distracted you. They traced the bare skin of your arms, right down to each elbow, warming you even further with their soft touch. And as soon as you leaned back into the feeling, wishing to experience the softness of her legs pressed to your shoulder blades and spine, she was gone. Her warm touch disappeared - her heels click-clacked their way out of range - her fingertips skated along the side of your neck, down its slope, before falling away. Of course then it didn’t take long for you to frown, wishing she was still there, disliking the fact that she had walked off. But when Larissa next spoke, her voice came from directly in front of you.

“Now,” she whispered, low and calm, “tell me why you’re here, pup.”

You swallowed a whimper, feeling your core lurch with hot desire at the sound of that delicious little pet name slipping off of her velvet tongue. It was one of your favorites - one of the only ones that made you melt oh so quickly. And Larissa wielded it with an immense amount of wicked power. The call of it came like a siren’s tune, and you were slave to the warmth that washed into your abdomen when she used it to torture you. Just as she did then; knowing you’d have trouble focusing.

Yet still, you pushed on. After all, you were not there for fun and games. Oh no no no, it was a lesson - as your Mistress had said. And she rarely changed her mind.

“I did something bad,” you responded, meek and small.

“Mm,” your woman hummed shortly, most likely nodding as she contemplated her next words. Early on into your relationship you found that she typically enjoyed doing that - taking a moment to rifle through her vocabulary just so she could conjure the most heart-stoppingly sinful sentences known to man. And once you fell deeper into your play and into your role as her darling girl… well then you were never safe from her eloquence. And her next words proved it. “And tell me, my sweet pup, what did you do to upset me?” The evil innocent tone returned.

You hesitated. The words built up on your tongue. There was so much more behind your reason. Behind your action. You hadn’t meant to, really. Your mind just… tended to wander. And though your relationship was built on trust, finding it to be the most important pillar you stood on, you found yourself slipping into a rather negative mindset some hours ago. It started in the middle of the night while Larissa was sleeping. She’d turned over in bed, getting more comfortable to face the other way and relieve the ache in her shoulder. Sometimes sleeping was hard, so you’d admire her and think about your lover until Morpheus drew you away. Though on that night, last night, your eyes traced the outline of her body- from the curve of her calf to the gentle contoured muscles of her back to the tousled platinum hair that spilled across the pillow- and you found yourself growing sad. Weary. Hurt. Nothing had happened and yet you still laid there, wondering if maybe you would never be good enough for Larissa. She had been through so much in her life - overcome nearly every bit of diversity and every bit of bullying and every bit of stress - and came out on top in the end. A kindhearted, brilliant, intelligent, beautiful woman that ran her Academy with the grace and care of a true golden soul. You admired her so much that it was difficult to put into words. And you’d tried in the past, you had, but it was futile. No one compared to Larissa Weems. But you were sure- certain- many people compared to you. You, who didn’t graduate nearly top of her class. You, who didn’t have such a high-earning, well-known career. You, who didn’t have particularly enchanting features and whose voice sometimes squeaked at the most inopportune times. You, with curves a bit bigger than most. You, with a mind so busy and cluttered that you could barely wade through it without feeling as though you were drowning. Yes, there were many women who could compare to you. Who were better than you. Who would give up their livelihoods to share even a bit of romantic air with Larissa Weems. And those women were beautiful… and they didn’t need so much comfort… and they could go a day without feeling slight panic whenever spending more than 3 hours having not heard from their lover. And those women, some of them at least, had money. The funds to buy Larissa whatever she wanted; the coin needed to tend to their own cosmetic needs - to get their nails done and their hair styled and to purchase the best products available so that their skin was soft and smelled of roses whenever Larissa was around to worship it. You couldn’t do that. You didn’t have that type of money - not yet at least. And maybe you never would. But either way… either way…

“I- I was mean to myself,” you felt the need to explain, “but I didn’t mean to upset you, I just-”

“Hush… darling.” Larissa spoke quickly, cutting you off with kind intentions as her palms came up to frame your face. Her fingertips caressed the spaces beneath your ears, drawing slow circles that had you keening and shivering. “I understand, my love,” her words, chosen carefully again, worked to put your mind at ease, “and I know. I know you didn’t ‘mean to’ sweetheart - but I’m not upset. I’m not upset with you.” Her loving tone had you blinking back tears. “Here,” her fingers moved to the loose knot behind your head, “do you want me to remove this, love? So we can talk eye to eye?”

You knew she had the best intentions behind her offer, but you still found yourself worrying.

“I don’t want to stop the play Mistress please-”

“We won’t stop if you don’t want to, my sweetling. We’ll just pause. Does that sound okay?”

And it did. It sounded more than okay. So you nodded and just like that, the blindfold was taken off. Slowly and gently, peeled away from your face, revealing the breathtaking smile that glued itself to your lover’s painted lips. You blinked a few times, getting yourself familiar with the dim grey light that filtered into the room from the windows. The rain had been off and on for the past few days, painting the world in gloomy colors, but it was lovely that you and Larissa agreed that stormy weather was the best weather. And as soon as your vision became comfortable, you gave your lover a small reassuring smile - silently telling her that you were okay. The sight of it seemed to put her at ease nearly instantly as she slid the blindfold away and put her hands on your face again. Her expression was open, vulnerable in its compassion as she stared at you. There was no desire to hold herself back; she could admire if she wished to. And she did. Those sapphire eyes of hers were wicked in their warmth, reflecting her slight worry as her brows scrunched together and the lines in her face deepened with sincerity.

“Better?” She questioned, drawing your eyes to her lips.

“Mhm,” you hummed with a small nod.

“Mhm?” Came her high-toned teasing response, making you blush and shrink into yourself. She took that reaction as a ‘yes’ and let out a little chuckle at the sight of your bashfulness. “Okay darling… would you like to pick up where we left off? We can talk about it or continue.”

Her tone had changed, becoming more serious as the topic shifted. You appreciated it of course, but the lust that tugged at the back of your psyche hated the delay in your… activities and wanted something more. Something close. Wanted Larissa - which was not unusual. So you answered with a sweet middle ground.

“May I explain myself first?” Your eyes were shining with love when you next looked at her.

“You never have to ask me that, love. Yes, of course. I am listening,” and she really was. Her fingers continued their soothing circles beneath your ears as she knelt in front of you and paid close attention.

“Right, thank you,” you nodded and took a deep breath before staring into those blue eyes and pouring a bit more of your heart out onto the floor for her. “I just- um- overthinking, you know? It can become a bit overwhelming and… I’m just really sorry. For isolating and- and doubting your love for me.” Your lips turned down into a frown.

The self-isolation truly had been an accident; you didn’t even realize you were doing it until Larissa returned to your quarters and coaxed you out of bed. You were quiet and dim while she stopped in for a visit, keeping your eyes on the floor and your responses short. That alone was enough for the headmistress to cancel the rest of her plans for the day and stay with you. And after some much-needed cuddling and quiet time, a kiss led to two- then three- then things progressed… and you soon found yourself on the bedroom floor, kneeling in front of your full-body mirror, waiting for instruction. Larissa knew what your thought process was, she understood your struggle, and that’s why she triple-checked if you still wanted to go through with a scene before you started. It was a more taboo way of establishing comfort and reassurance, but you felt safe. Protected. And the lust kept the bad feelings at bay. Larissa knew to take all of that into account when she thought of her lesson - and she hoped above all else that it would stick. Just like her next words did as soon as her dulcet tones caressed your ears.

“Please Y/n, don’t apologize. I understand my darling. I know it’s hard. I know…” she cooed, gently bringing you closer until your foreheads were pressed together. Oh she smelled so good; of Gardenias and fresh laundry. If you could wrap yourself up in her forever, you would. “But it’s going to be okay. Tell me,” Larissa inhaled, moving back a little bit to look you in the eye. Her expression was serious but her eyes were lit from the inside - swirling with mirth and love and a million other beautiful things that made you feel like you were floating. “Do you trust me?”

You didn’t even think to hesitate.

“Of course.” You trusted her with everything. You trusted her with your life, with your heart, with every thought in your mind. You trusted her with your breath.

“Then trust me when I say that I have never loved anyone in the way I love you,” Larissa breathed, licking her dry lips, darting her gaze between your eyes. “And I don’t think- no, no I know- I’ll never want anyone else. Ever.” And the radiant smile that pulled at her beautiful mouth then - the fascinating way it sharpened at the edges and how endearing it was to see those perfectly imperfect pearly whites shining in the dim light of the afternoon… how it revealed every delightful thing she felt for you… well you simply couldn’t help yourself.

It probably would have been easier if your hands weren’t tied behind your back, but the beat of your heart enjoyed the thrill your body felt when falling forward, eager to catch Larissa in a kiss. And being the ever-observant, impossibly understanding woman she was, she met you halfway. Moving her hands from your face to your biceps, stabilizing you in your spot, letting out a long indulgent moan as soon as your lips connected - it all felt like divinity personified. And while you sat there languishing, moving your mouths in a slow aching tandem that had your lips tingling afterward, embracing the nearly sadistic way Larissa’s tongue caressed your own, the fire in your abdomen rose again. It clawed at you and begged for her. Sang for her.

“Thank you,” came your whiny breath, spoken against the soft skin of Larissa’s lips. “Thank you, thank you, I love you. So much.” And before she could respond, you kissed her again. And again. And again. And your lover’s hands were wicked as they danced along the expanse of your chest, down the delicate rolls of your tummy, right down to the velvet of your thighs. Those strong fingers of hers squeezed and pinched and tickled, driving you mad, making you shudder. And as soon as Larissa pulled away, quickly moving to press a warm palm against the center of your chest, a loud keening mewl escaped your throat. Once you opened your eyes, daring to fix her with a pout, admiring the way a string of spit kept your wanting lips tethered, you felt yourself falling back into the beautiful malleable headspace of being Larissa’s darling.

“Oh,” she breathed, looking at you with eyes that rivaled the blue-dark of dusk, “you’re feeling it again, aren’t you sweetheart?”

“Yes, Mistress,” you swallowed harshly, trying to relieve the sudden dryness of your throat.

Ever the most observant in the room, your lover caught your slight discomfort and tempered her smile - making it soft and small as she patted your thighs and stood up. You didn’t need to be a genius to figure what she was doing; the sound of her heels being kicked off and placed neatly by the bedroom door said enough. And a moment later, Larissa came padding back into the room with a glass of cool water in one hand and a damp cloth in the other. A quick mildly confused glance at the blue towel had her smirking.

“This won’t take long, pup,” were her words while she placed it on the floor and took a seat behind you, letting her legs frame your thighs. Leaning around, she placed the glass to your lips and watched intently as you took small sips. There was no prompting needed and there were no words said. Just the gentle tip and take, tip and take. You were thirsty and your Mistress provided. And the eye-contact you made, sharing your thanks and your appreciation and your knowledge of her love had her lighting up with the warmest little grin. “Is that enough?” She asked softly as she pulled the glass away one last time and ran the pad of her thumb along the corners of your lips.

“Yes, thank you,” your volume matched her whisper, quiet and reassuring.

A blonde eyebrow rose. You smiled shyly, amused by your own slip up.

“Yes, thank you Mistress.” And that seemed to be enough for her as she inclined her head and leaned back to sit up straight, correcting her posture and setting her shoulders and… oh…

When your eyes glanced up, locking onto the glass in front of you, you felt a river of desire burn hot within your body. Oh she was practically looming. So… so tall behind you… long legs spread… and you watched, utterly entranced, as she placed the glass down on the hardwood floor and then turned that pale graceful neck in one slow swoop, immediately fixing her gaze on yours through the reflection of the mirror. Oh your Mistress looked just as hungry as she said she was. Her expression practically screamed ‘Let me devour you’, but her actions were the thing that spoke to utter devastation.

“Adjust for me, pup,” her breath was sweet against your ear, making your hair move ever so slightly as she glided her hands down your sides and to your thighs, helping you maneuver yourself into a better position.

You winced at the ache behind your knees. There would most likely be bruises there tomorrow, but you never really minded that. It was just a trophy of sorts - a testament to your excellent skill of following directions. And once you were finally in the desired pose, stretching your legs out in front of you to quell the dull ache and relieve any pressure, Larissa took it upon herself to adjust you further. She let out a small huff of delight when you squeaked in surprise, taken aback by her speed once her legs moved and wound themselves around yours; using the strength of her calves and thighs to pull your legs apart, bend them so your feet were flat to the floor, and keep you spread open for her viewing pleasures. Instantly, you looked away; averting your eyes to the ceiling as embarrassment tugged at you. Air fled to the newly exposed skin and chilled the insides of your arousal-painted thighs, leaving you flushed and shivering in your Mistress’s grasp. The very same Mistress who had a mean streak for seeing you flustered and at a loss for words - making sure to maintain eye contact as long fingers wrapped around the front of your chin and jaw and tugged your head down.

“Look,” Larissa growled, her soft lips looking perfect despite the smudged lipstick. Her eyes were smoldering. Her body was poised to strike. “Look at yourself,” she repeated, softer, gentler, allowing you the time to obey.

And obey you did.

Sometimes it was hard to look in the mirror. You knew you were self-conscious and you were okay with telling people that, mainly because they usually felt the same. But ever since being with Larissa, that changed. The days in which you cringed at yourself became more and more rare - and only occasionally did you find yourself scrutinizing your body. You’d done it earlier that morning; staring into the same mirror; nearly falling apart at what you saw. But as you sat there then, in a completely different mood and light, you felt at least a little bit more empowered. And your eyes roamed helplessly, thinking only of pleasing Larissa.

From the slight line of your collarbone to the curve of your biceps, leading to the sides of your body as your forearms disappeared behind your back. From the chub of your tummy and the way it folded oh so naturally to the hills of your thighs, pressed outward and trembling with desire. From the crests of your knees to the blush of your chest to the dilated pupils in your eyes, going right down… down… down to the swollen wet heaven between your legs. Without even realizing it, your eyes darted away, spooked like an anxious bunny. But the wolf behind you noticed - and the wolf behind you was having none of it. The hand around your chin shook slightly. Your breath got caught in your throat.

“Don’t make me repeat myself, pup.”

And because her authority did unspeakable things to you, your gaze went sliding back to the main attraction. To the ambrosia Larissa desired. To the peak of your femininity. To the throbbing source of lust that sent warm lines of need through your veins.

“There we go…” Your Mistress’s hush had you shaking as her breath caressed the soft skin of your neck. “So pretty, aren’t you?” At your moment of silence, she pressed a kiss to the curve of your shoulder and kept her eyes burning into yours. “Aren’t you?” Her voice deepened.

Instantaneously, you nodded. It was hard to believe - it was - but if Larissa believed it… if Larissa believed it… then yes. Yes, absolutely. Yes yes yes. And your Mistress, thank heavens, let the lack of words slip for once and continued talking. Her fingers went lax around your chin and moved to caress your jaw, sending shivers down your spine.

“Yes, so pretty,” her cheek pressed lightly against yours, “so… so… beautiful… so brilliant, darling.”

You swallowed, taking in the sight of you all over again. Larissa’s legs keeping yours in place - Larissa’s hand on the side of your face - Larissa’s other hand inching along the softness of your inner thigh - Larissa’s gaze never wavering from where it’s poised over your shoulder - Larissa’s control wired through every tendon in her body - and Larissa’s lips pulled into the most sinful smirk as her fingers move faster than lightning and go to part the lips of your cunt. Leaving it bare and spread and cold. Leaving it wet and aching and open to her and only her. Your hips jumped, sparked by the touch, desperate for more. More more more.

“M-mistress-,” you whined, lips quivering.

“What?” Was her harsh reply as she used her middle and pointer finger to pull more - to stretch more - to leave the softness of your cunt on display. “What is it, puppy?”

You felt your brain fizzle into nothing. You felt your hands tighten into fists behind your back. Not a word was scrawled onto your tongue. Your lips parted helplessly. ‘Please,’ you wanted to say, ‘please please please. I need it. You. Anything. Everything you’re willing to give me. Please please please.’ But the only thing that came out was a small stuttering keen, flitting in and out of sound, making a raging storm of embarrassment boil within you. You didn’t often mean to make the sounds you made! Not always! It just… happened. Like your body had no control while your Mistress was present. Like it knew that she wanted a show and that it was the proper time to shine. To deliver. And with that, you bowed your head and averted your eyes.

That was strike one.

A quick wet ‘smack!’ rang out into the silence, breaking the erotic heaviness of your breath. At first, you were confused as to where the sound came from… but then the sting settled. And the impact snapped you back into yourself. And your hips jerked without control, startled by the suddenness of your Mistress’s cruelty. The columns of her fingers reprimanded you swiftly, landing firmly onto the lips of your cunt and the needy bud of your clit. Striking them only once but leaving your toes curling in a wicked mix of surprise, pleasure, and pain. You looked up into the mirror, eyes wide, taking in the way your skin began to turn red.

“Oh did I hurt you, pup? I’m sorry…” Larissa cooed, figuring that the only thing to make it better was to massage the pain away.

And in the very next moment, your body tensed. You watched, suspended in horror and anticipation, as one slim fingertip, dexterous and hellbent, dipped between the folds of your haven and began drawing slow… slow… slow circles around your clit.

“M- Miss- hah-” you tried mumbling her name, tried getting the title out to tell her yes yes yes feels so good, but all you could do was allow your lips to fall open and your head to fall back, resting against her shoulder as you gasped.

The pleasure she granted you was often indescribable - and it didn’t help that she could destroy you so easily. One long dark glance, one hand upon your arm, one word spoken against your ear - she wielded her seduction like a very carefully sharpened sword. And then she stabbed you with it until you were a mess on the bed. Or the couch. Or the floor. Or the countertop. And you reciprocated when you could- really, you often wanted to- but your Mistress quite enjoyed running through you so thoroughly. And her lesson in front of the mirror was no different.

“What’s wrong puppy?” Her tone spoke of fake sympathy. “Am I hurting you, darling?”

You picked your head up to plead with her- to tell her to go faster because your thighs were shaking and your cunt was aching and you felt so empty inside- but her touch was retreating as soon as you opened your mouth.

“No,” you whispered, gazing at her in the glass. “No no no,” your head was shaking back and forth; a testament to your desperation.

But your Mistress was not often shaken by things like that. Only the devil herself could withstand seeing her sinful little angel beg for pleasure; only the devil could step back and watch the poor thing drown in lust - and since that was the case, you figured Larissa was Satan in the flesh. She tore you apart and put you back together. She unraveled you and reclaimed your pieces. She pressed hot open kisses to your neck and let out little hums against your ear before running the flats of her palms over the skin of your thighs.

“I want you to tell me something,” she whispered, mindlessly splaying her fingers. Your eyes met in the mirror. Hers were dark and hooded. Yours were blown wide with suspenseful need. You nodded, lost for words. “I want you to tell me that I live lavishly.”

You frowned, momentarily confused. What did she mean? Yes- she did. She lived lavishly, sort of. No mansion and no riches, but definitely expensive clothing and trinkets and things of the sort. And she often treated you to pricey gifts and dinners and such. But why did she need-

“Just say it, pup.”

You licked your lips. “You- um- you live lav-lavishly Mistress.”

The pleased grin you got, shadowed by the column of your neck, had you smiling back nervously.

“Good.. good…,” Larissa hummed, pressing a small rewarding kiss to your shoulder. “And what does that mean, pup? What do I… surround myself with?”

And her hands went running along your thighs again, dipping closer and closer to your heaven each time before skittering away. She knew she was messing with your thoughts, but she didn’t particularly care. The cogs in your head were turning slowly, rusted with distracting lust. What did she surround herself with? You took a second to glance around the bedroom - at the mahogany furniture and four poster bed and sky-blue silk sheets and duvet and fluffy white pillows and the pretty patterned egg-shell carpet in the middle of the floor. You took in the high cathedral-style windows, the velvet curtains, Larissa’s ornate vanity, her perfume and makeups and hair-care products, her heels and walk-in closet. You thought about the salary she spent on garments and gloves and coats and how each of her outfits matched the seasons and the way her jewelry tended to sparkle in the light. Such luxuries were not things you could afford on your own. Such luxuries were glorious. Expensive. One could even say…

“Beautiful.”

It came out as an awed whisper. Larissa smiled sharply.

“What was that?”

Her fingers pitter-pattered along your skin. Closer… closer… closer…

“B-beautiful things,” you breathed.

“Mmm,” came her deep purr, spoken into your ear, caressing the inferno within you. “And what does that make you, puppy?”

You swallowed. That- well that made you… goodness, you couldn’t even think it. Your gaze returned to your body. Were you what she said? Were you truly? Were the discolored strikes of lightning across your stretched skin something to be admired? Were the veins of your feet enchanting? Was the hair that graced your upper-lip and sometimes your chin and the spots around your eyebrows all a thing of glory? Were your unkempt nail beds and regularly bowed posture and easily bruised skin all aspects of yourself to be adored?

Well… Larissa certainly thought so.

When you brought your attention away from the cellulite of your thighs and looked up, staring into those cool blue depths, you saw nothing but love. Nothing but desire. She knew you weren’t perfect and she loved you either way. She had you in her hands, leaning against her body, restrained and vulnerable and left open for her amusement. She had you keening and whining and wet beneath her touch. She wanted you. She needed you. She noticed you. And your Mistress lived up to that observation when she tutted lightly - ‘tut tut tut’ - three times with her tongue tapping against the roof of her mouth, spotting your hesitation.

“Say it for me,” her voice spoke devilishly, “say it. Just for me.”

“A-” you swallowed back a noise of anguished desire, “-a… b-beautiful thing…?”

“Is that a question?” She admonished immediately. You shook your head.

“No, Mistress. A beautiful-” you inhaled deeply and let the words out with your breath, “- a beautiful thing.”

Larissa smirked.

“Again.”

You let out a frustrated huff. You just wanted her to touch you. Her hands were so close - her fingertips were caressing the very edges of your heaven - she knew exactly what you wanted. But she wasn’t giving it to you. And your frustration was only another strike.

‘Smack!’ swift rectification was delivered to your cunt, forcing a husky gasp out of your open mouth while your upper body jerked forward- sparked by utter surprise. The sting settled again, red and tingly and sensitive, as you tried to regulate your breathing.

“Again,” your Mistress growled, teeth flashing behind red lips.

“A beautiful th-thing,” you sniffed, abdomen clenching when the pleasure from before slowly resumed - spurred on by Larissa’s gentle ministrations as one fingertip caressed circles around your clit.

“Mmmm there we go,” she drawled, “not so difficult, hm?” You shook your head instantly, not really knowing if it was a genuine question or not. It probably didn’t matter either way as your Mistress’s words continued - flowing like thick wine down the parched skin of your throat. “No, no… so precious…”

And the slow teasing circles became fast - switching to little back and forth swats right over the desperate nub of your clit, pressing light pressure and spreading the stickiness of your desperation over the needy bundle of nerves. You felt heat rise to the surface of your skin, making you sweat as your hips bucked into your Mistress’s hold. Little whines and moans, high-pitched and keening, slipped off of your tongue as wave after wave of lust flowed through your body. You felt your eyelids fall, draping you in darkness while your head went craning back to lean against your lover’s shoulder. Your hands, meanwhile, twitched like mad and clenched together - desperate to grasp at anything so you could ground yourself, but it was to no use. They were firmly tied, just set as a reminder for your obedience. For your submission.

“M-Mi-M-” her title teetered on the edge of your lips but never fell. You looked helpless - useless - pathetic. Whining beneath the dexterous touch of your Mistress; falling apart under the slightest bit of pressure. Drool pooled onto your tongue.

“What do I do with my beautiful things, pet?” She spoke quickly, cutting off your thoughts. You could barely understand what she was asking - but that wasn’t enough. It was a response or nothing. “What do I do with them?”

Your mind scrambled for something- anything- as you reveled in your pleasure. And finally, after what seemed like an eternity of searching for the correct response, you threw your head down and knocked your chin against your chest, eyes still scrunched and face twisted in pleasure.

“T-take care of- of them! Mistress!” You mewled brokenly, moving your hips to match the pace of her touch.

“Oh good girl!” She gasped, delighted by your good thinking, impressed by your cloudy intelligence. Yes yes- you were a good girl- such a good girl- so good for her so good so good so good- “Stick out your tongue.”

Your tongue, wet and quivering, lolled out of your mouth instantly and rested gently between your top row of teeth and your bottom lip, already slowly starting to drip with drool. You could feel her gaze burning into you through the mirror’s reflection. She was enjoying her little lesson oh so much.

“Good good.” You whimpered beneath her praise, feeling the muscles in your hips and legs start to burn with desperation. The very beginnings of your crescendo- your release- your wonderful little death- crested over the temple of your lust, hinting at oncoming pleasure. Larissa could feel the way your clit twitched from her touch, straining hopelessly with each pass of her finger. She loved it. She loved seeing you come undone. She loved seeing you admit to the truth.

“Repeat after me, slut. And don’t miss a beat,” she commanded. “I am beautiful.”

You began shaking your head, silently telling her no- it was too embarrassing- please don’t make me- but your Mistress didn’t care. It was just another strike in her book. Another wet aching ‘slap!’ that kissed against your cunt, making it raw and far more sensitive than it was before - forcing your defenses to crumble. Forcing you to submit wholeheartedly.

“I- I’m beautiful!” you cried, letting your tongue greet the heavy air once more.

“I am strong.”

“I’m- I’m- I am strong! Mis- Mistress, please!”

“I am capable.”

“‘M cap-capable- capable hnngg-”

“I am loved.”

“Y-yes! Loved- loved so much- yesyesyesyesplease-”

“Open your eyes.”

“Op- open-” you blinked as your mind caught up, letting the words fizzle into nothing within your mouth as you peered up at yourself through the mirror.

“There’s my needy girl,” your Mistress cooed, “look at you. Look at your pretty self. Look at your pretty cunt, puppy.”

And you did. You looked- no, admired- yourself. You admired your messy hair and the way little strands plastered themselves to the light sheen of sweat on your forehead. You admired your trembling body and the way the endearing cellulite and chub shook with each rock of your hips. You admired the flush across your skin and the heavy-lidded look of your eyes - and the way your eyebrows furrowed and your tongue trembled. You admired the closeness with your Mistress and how snug you were pressed against her body. Framed between her legs, held down and in place, controlled and loved. One hand working wonders between your legs, caressing your heaven, and one hand trailing along your body- from thigh to breast, feeling and wandering and loving all the same.

“This is just one thing I love about you, Y/n,” Larissa spoke, looking like an angel of desire sitting there behind you; hair askew and blue eyes darkened and red lips parted, silently affected by your longing.

You were shuddering in her hold, letting out a string of mindless sounds as the pleasure increased and increased and increased. The thread of rope in your abdomen was quickly unraveling, close to snapping, close to throwing you over the edge of a mind-blowing climax. And Larissa was relentless in her mission to push you into the depths.

“How good you are for me, how much control you give me,” she hissed, “how pretty you look panting like an eager little whore,” her accent embraced the words in a mind-dizzyingly beautiful hug. She sounded like the angels’ harps. “My needy darling- my pretty little pet- my baby- my Y/n. Mine mine mine. Say it.”

“Y-yours! Yoursyours yours-” you mumbled, eyes rolling back into your head as the wet sounds of your pleasure harmonized with your Mistress’s voice.

“Mineminemine, that’s it. That’s it, little puppy. Good- good.”

And that’s when you felt your mind go blank.

“M-M- ple-please- pleasepleaseplease gonna- gonna cu-cum- cum please- M-Miss-”

The heat was startling. You were shaking. You were crying. You were panting and whining and it felt so- so- sososososo-

“You want to cum, puppy? Is that what you’re trying to tell me? Hm? Beg, darling. Beg for me,” your Mistress demanded, voice as sharp as a knife’s edge.

“Yes, yes,” you gasped, nodding as you spoke and pleaded and begged begged begged- “Please please please I’m- I’m a good girl- good girl- yours- please lemme cum please Mistress- Mommy- Rissa- please- please Larissa PLEASE-!”

The rope snapped. The rocks beneath your feet slipped. The sun fell. The clouds disintegrated. The world clung onto the universe. The heat in your abdomen had you clenching- clenching- clenching-

And Larissa’s touch went away. Faded. Disappeared.

Your ears buzzed.

Your feet dangled off the edge.

The rope held itself together by the thinnest string.

“No.”

And your Mistress sealed your fate with one word alone.

̟ ˙ ̟ ˙ ˖ ̟ ˙ ˖ ˙̟ ˙ ̟ ˙ ˖ ̟ ˙ ˖ ˙̟ ˙ ̟ ˙ ˖ ̟ ˙ ˖ ˙̟ ˙ ̟ ˙ ˖ ̟ ˙ ˖ ˙

Did I do this instead of write more of my book, respond to some requests, and just generally pay attention to life outside of this? Yes. Yes, I did. I did also get a haircut though and I feel quite beautiful. So- anyway. Hope you enjoyed. - Ripley x

̟ ˙ ̟ ˙ ˖ ̟ ˙ ˖ ˙̟ ˙ ̟ ˙ ˖ ̟ ˙ ˖ ˙̟ ˙ ̟ ˙ ˖ ̟ ˙ ˖ ˙̟ ˙ ̟ ˙ ˖ ̟ ˙ ˖ ˙

#fanfic #larissa weems #larissa weems x reader #fanfiction #larissa weems x y/n #larissa weems x you #fanfictionwriter #wlw fanfic #rippersz #wednesday netflix #smut fic #smutty fanfic #principal larissa weems #larissa x reader #principal weems #principal weems x reader #wlw smut #wlw fic

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bubbles-for-all-of-us · 1 year

Text

Shameless

requested: Azriel x reader. but reader is like this super cool and confident and amazing and badass and competent general in like another court. And every now and then Az just gets a glimpse of her while they’re fighting on the same side. and he like looks up to her. utter awe. and then they meet meet one day. and he’s flustered which is so ooc and he doesn’t know what’s happening. i just need to feel powerful tbh

a/n: Okay, I should probably apologize because this really took a turn but I just pushed the gas pedal and zoomed at 250 down the highway with it. I hope you'll still enjoy it. 🙃✨🤍✨🤍✨🤍✨🤍✨

warning: mention of sexual interactions

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Let's get one thing straight. Azriel is not a male who you could rile up easily. He doesn't get flustered. You can't get him out of line. It's always a wall of calmness there. Unreachable, stone-like face. He's an observer. Collecting information from the hubs of the rooms, shadows, and dimly lit corners. He doesn't use his voice if it's not needed. Doesn't waste a breath on a little silly conversation. So when you strolled into his life and his walls suddenly trembled, the sheen of coldness only seemed to thicken.

You were quite a character. With your strikingly sharp features and the way, you carried yourself. Your gaze seemed to pierce souls. The smile made males weak in their knees. Not to mention the sound of your laugh, which could chase death itself away. But then again, Azriel told himself constantly that he shouldn't like you. Any part of you. There shouldn't be a single feature of yours that appeals to him. After all, you were a Vanserra. The cousin of Eris Vanserra, the male Azriel, probably hated the most in this world. You two shared foxy-like features, both being extremely intelligent and calculated. Well, you were, at least. Eris didn't matter to Azriel. But it's the power you had in the court as the General of the Autumn Armies. The one and only. Unstoppable. People only graciously bowed their heads as you walked by. Some males tried to challenge you. Take your position and power away from you. Yet no one ever came close. Sentencing themselves to lifelong embarrassment and humiliation. Most meet their end or shuffle pig shit afterward.

Azriel had seen you on the battlefield as well. He had fought with you multiple times since differently from Eris or Beron, you had always been close with the Night court. And gods give him strength; you were like nothing Azriel had seen before. There was just something about the way you moved. The way you took your steps felt almost too perfect. The way you didn't even huff as you cut through the field. The way enemies on the battlefield field considered whether they should try to fight you. Hoping you wouldn't get in their way. Hoping not to see that bloodthirsty smirk.

After that first battle together, you approached the spymaster. He and his mysterious ways also caught your interest. "You were good out there, spymaster," you muttered, hands slipping through your matted hair as you gazed at the male. The playful, adrenaline-pumped kind of look on your face. Something inside Azriel's chest twisted. He had imagined you talking with him for a while, even if he would deny it. "As an Illyrian bastard to an Autumn scum, I don't care", Azriel wanted to bury himself alive after those words slipped out. Your eyes dimed instantly, lips thinning into a tight smile. That fire that ran through your veins grew instantly hotter. Azriel hoped you would have said something. Completely and utterly mixed him up with the dirt, but you just turned around as you hurried through the camp. And the shadow singer knew that he might have just made the biggest mistake of his life.

Even more so Azriel knew he shouldn't think about this as he walked through the halls of autumn residency with his brothers. Not when you were only a couple of doors away. But he had spent over a hundred years rethinking that moment. The chance that he had. He had sentenced himself for the backstage view at that point. For years of watching you with Cassian. He tried to ease the jealousy by simply telling himself that you both were generals. Most of your businesses ran similarly. Most meetings were shared. But there was more there. There was always more. And it was this that drove the spymaster insane. How every female he desired ended up in the hands of his brother instead.

The loud squeal echoed through the hall, followed by the hurried sound of steps. Azriel lifted his head right as you jumped into Cassian's arms, and the Illyrian spun you around, laughing lightly to himself. Azriel's face instantly turned sour, and if not for Rhys, who stood there with a pleasant smile, the spymaster would have thrown a punchy remark already.

"Your hair has gotten longer," you said, twisting your fingers through Cassian's curls, looking him over. You had been away on a mission for multiple months. To say that you missed that silly bastard would have been an understatement. "Any new cool scars, or were you the one handing them out?", the general teased, twirling you around. It was a rare occasion to see you in a dress. You much more preferred light shirts with corsets and pants. So this was quite a treat, "Oh, you know me too well, general", "Did you send my hellos to Summer?", you let out another laugh that pierced through Azriel's chest. "He just said this," you showed a couple of vulgar gestures to Cassian, and now even Rhys joined in the laughter. "Well, come along. Eris is waiting in the study", you move in that direction, falling into a light conversation with Rhys on your way there.

Even if he doesn't want to admit it. It pained Azriel that you didn't acknowledge him. Not a single hi, or a little nod. Nothing. You had been polite all this time with one another. In all honesty, you probably had long forgotten about it, and it was only Azriel who was still hanging onto it. But then again, you only spoke to him in meetings. A word here and there if you visited Night, but only if the conversation was flowing around the table with everyone.

"I would say it's lovely to see you, but we all know that would be a lie," Eris said, motioning for the males to sit down. However, only Rhys accepted the invitation, leaving the other two males standing on either side of him. "I'm quite delighted personally unless you have bad news to share," Rhys chirped, leaning back into the plush chair. Eris poured the high lord a drink with a smirk on his face, as you leaned against the armchair he sat on.

"My lovely cousin has been away for business", Eris stated, "Let's say the situation is more serious than we thought". The fireling turned to you, giving his silent approval for you to take over from here. "You made some enemies, it seems. Troops are forming", Rhysand frowned at your words. Even Azriel did because he hadn't heard anything about this, and he should have if this information was true. You moved to take out some folded papers before handing them to the high lord, "They are mostly targeting your high lady. She's seen as your weak link."

A scowl on Rhys's face only grew as she turned page after page. "Why am I only now hearing about this?", the male growled. "Be thankful you're hearing about this at all; it appears your puppets are pretty clueless," "Eris!" you warned. Even if his word was final, you never allowed him to get out of line. He might have little respect for his opponents, but you were there to keep the lordling's toes on the ground.

"This seemed like a drunken scum slur for a while. I doubt they are capable of much", you continued, "But out of the procession, I would like to stay in Night". "If you're playing some games, Eris," Rhysand warned the Autumn heir, "It was Y/N idea to share this with you, I'm not too fussed," you instantly cut into Eris's words, "I did what I could to kill off the initial gatherings. Did it without informing you so fewer ears would hear about it". The lord nodded his head, his mind still clouded with what he had heard.

The two of them wanted a private conversation soon after. Leaving you three to stand behind the door. "So, sleepovers at night, huh?", Cassian wiggled his eyebrows at you. You two had your history, marked my endless amount of drinks and messing around. "If I remember correctly, you still owe me a drink or two," you purred, turning a dagger between your fingers, also a gift from the general. "Azriel can join us; he's been awfully uptight lately," the spymaster nearly wiping his head towards Cassian, his face turning into a frustrated grimace. "Like, look at him. I'm growing worried," the male continued to tease. You let out a chuckle, and Azriel's eyes fell on you. And here it was again. That feeling that he simply didn't have good enough words to say. Gaping at you both for a minute more, he turned to leave with one last word, "And you... You're juggling two females? Told her that already?"

Azriel knew it was petty. For all he knew, you and Cassian were never together. Well, not as a couple, at least. Plus, his brother suspected the attraction that brewed in Azriel's heart. And with Nesta now very much in the picture, the spymaster knew that Cassian's priorities lay with her. He moved to the shadowy end of the hall. Even if he didn't want to, his gaze returned to you from the shadows. Your eyes grew wide, your hand reaching to cover your mouth as you listened to whatever Cassian had to say. And then once more, Azriel knew that he shouldn't snoop, but he did send a shadow to listen in. In a way scared that maybe Cassian confessed his undying love to you or that he spilled Azriel's secrets instead. But it was neither of those two. It was Nesta Cassian told you about it. His obnoxiously stubborn mate, "Maybe you could talk or something," Cassian muttered, your hand moving to rest on his shoulder. "I'll have a word with her. Plus, if we train there, she might get curious herself."

That's how the next couple of weeks went. Your time was divided between training with the girls, keeping an eye on Feyre, and attending meetings regarding the security of Velaris. It was almost strange how well you blended into the dynamics of the inner circle. As if you were always a part of it, just temporarily absent. Azriel continued to watch you from afar. Admiring you and how the power you had hadn't gotten to your head. How you shrugged all of your achievements to the side when Cassian would go on yet another praise cycle about you. At moments like this, with a glass of wine in your hand and a lazy smile on your face, you seemed like the most basic townie. Not someone who had huge responsibilities on their shoulders. That was also the side of you that Azriel loved the most.

After swimming through his thoughts on the balcony at the house of wind, Azriel made his way inside. Considering that it was rather late, he was sure that everyone was already asleep or at least occupied by other activities. However, a faint gleam of light from the living room caught his eyes. A breath seized in his throat as he stepped into the room. You were spread out on the sofa, humming to yourself as you looked at the ceiling. It was impossible not to look at you. To not get lost in the shape of your body. The shadow singer was about to turn away, but then, "Oh, what an honor, the spymaster himself."

His heart fluttered just a little, but he tried to keep his face unreadable. Azriel tried not to run into you too often. It was bad enough he had to watch you spar with Cassian. Watch his brother try to tackle you while you straddled the Illyrian and pressed the blade against his neck. Or your sweaty body glistening in the sun. Things like that drove him mad and made him think thoughts he knew he shouldn't. Azriel had messed up, and keeping hops of any kind was foolish. The spymaster quickly shook his head, trying to get the images of you out of it. "I was only going to get some food. I see you are enjoying yourself", gods strike him. You let out a giggle.

Turning to lay on your stomach, the material of the dress you wore crunched up beneath you, tightening around your now even more highlighted breasts. That dress in itself was a curse, not leaving much to the imagination, but with you lying like this, "You would be mistaken then," you purred, and Azriel quickly lifted his gaze from your body. Looking up only to meet your eyes. Eyes that had been watching him "Why... Why is that?", the spymaster swallowed hard, already feeling the heat rising. You let out a chuckle once again, "I'm so lonely here," "I could give you... I mean, I could get one of the girls for you," and Azriel wanted to curse himself for this flustered chaos he was becoming. If this continued, he would be a red mess soon, and he knew you would be enjoying that. It's the same Vansera foxiness that ran through your blood. Made this a game for you. A little chaise.

You swirled back down onto your back, hair falling over the edge of the sofa, head hanging over the side. "What could you give me, shadow singer?", you purr yet again, hands lightly holding the material of the necklace, just so you wouldn't give him a full view of what's underneath. "Some more water; you've drank too much," Azriel said firmly, but he can't help himself. Eyes wondering all over. You're a couple of steps away, and you're acknowledging his presence. The answer doesn't please you as you scrunch up your brows.

"Help me up, would you?", you asked him softly. Azriel hesitated at first, but with you like this and him all hot, it could all go downhill really quickly. But he walked closer to you anyway. Your fingers were already reaching for his hand. Yet right before he fully steps closer, you turn around once again, grasping both of his hands as you drag him onto the sofa. The fall is soft due to the pillows, yet Azriel's eyes are as big as the moon in the sky. His breathing was uneven. A low growl escapes his lips as you move to straddle him, fiery eyes watching him. "Caught you off guard, huh?", you mumbled, leaning closer to him, and Azriel was left there hoping that he would be able to resist this. His mind was racing with the desire to move his hands over your exposed thighs." I...you," the spymaster rasped out, trying to keep his eyes on your face. You let out a laugh, head falling onto his shoulder for a moment, "You caught it bad...".

But Azriel is shaking his head, and you raise your eyebrows at his reaction. "What if I kissed you here?", you lean in, pressing a kiss to his shoulder, fingers quickly moving to unbutton his shirt. Azriel only swallows thickly, his hands gripping the cushions behind him. The lack of reaction on his behalf makes you narrow your eyes at him and ask, "What about here?" Leaning in once again, you leave a wet trail of kisses down Azriel's neck. Nibbling on his skin here and there. Azriel's hands move to grip your legs as a low moan escapes his lips. Your lips curve into a pleased smirk, "Such a good boy you are", "You're dangerous", Azriel muttered, still lost in the feeling of your lips on his skin. "Oh come on, you want it", you tease, hooking your finger behind yet another button of his shit. "Tell me, do you want this? Do you want me?", your eyes meet his, and for a moment you two just look at one another. "I...", the spymaster mumbles but it's no longer the flustered stutter. There's something more. You pull away instantly, climbing off of his lap, and now it's Azriel who is suddenly confused.

"I don't get you. You stalk me all around the place, but you just", you gesture to him, shaking your head, "When I get close to you, you go all ridged as if you stank of shite." How could he not? You were the woman of every man's dreams. "I... just...you", Azriel was trying so hard to make his head snap into place. "I, I. You, you. What the heck is going on with you?" you whine in frustration. Azriel runs his hand through his hair, taking a couple more breaths. "I bloody fancy you; that's what's going on. You just messed up my brain waves. I can't think," he blurted out, now standing right in front of you. Your eyes fall on him again. You can practically see his heart beating extremely quickly in his chest.

"Ain't I an Autumn scum?", "No, I was so stupid. Those words have been eating me alive," Azriel says, reaching for your hand, and you let him take it. The silence falls onto the room again, but this time it's not that uneasy kind. "So... all this time you were just acting like a teenager?" Azriel rolls his eyes at your words, yet he can't deny it; his actions weren't all that mature. "You're not quite a regular female, what do you expect?", "True... Tired of males drooling anyways, this is way more entertaining", you hum, smiling up at Azriel.

"Am I... Are we...fuck", the shadow singer shakes his head at his stutter, but you only giggle softly, "Me, you, I, yes, we can continue", going on your tippy toes, you wrap your hands around his neck bringing him closer to yourself. Azriel gently taps your bum, signaling for you to jump up, and you do just that. His hands host you closer to his body. "You stutter mid-strokes too?", a smirk on your face was way too big for Azriel's liking. "Be careful with your words. I have the biggest wingspan for a reason, vixen."

#azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel #azriel acotar #acotar x reader #azorar imagine

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kitthepurplepotato · 9 months

Text

MWRMI PART 9

Week 5 - Mama Midoriya 🥦

Summary: Y/N wants to eat pancakes. Mama Midoriya must be a mind reader because she comes over with some. Inko becomes the biggest ReaderDeku shipper.

Warnings: might have 1 swear word in it. That’s it.

First Part Master List

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Things are a little bit awkward.

You haven’t seen your green nerdy roommate for a few days, which have given you the perfect opportunity to REALLY think about this new situation.

Your conclusion is…

Drumbeats, please.

Nothing have changed. You are just overthinking. That’s it. Yes.

With that in your mind, you make your way out of your room to make some fucking pancakes for yourself, because you deserve it. Every day can be a pancake day. It’s important to treat yourself sometimes.

Why are you so focused on those pancakes, anyway? Oh, yeah, to ignore your growing feelings toward your unreachable roommate. Great.

“Good morning, honey!” A lovely voice of an older, probably middle aged lady comes across the room and you almost scream incoherently but decide against it after taking a good look at the fluffy woman; she has green hair and green eyes, just like Midoriya, the only difference between the two is the lack of curls and the lady’s hair is a hint darker than your favorite roomie’s. Is she a Midoriya? She needs to be, otherwise you have a trespasser in your house. Fuck, you are terrible at self defense, not even questioning the stranger in your flat, but bruh, she has big, green doe eyes. Everyone knows you can’t say no to green doe eyes.

“Good morning! Midoriya is not here today.” You smile at the woman who only nods understandingly and puts a cup of freshly made latte in your hand. There is whipped cream on the top and a sprinkle of cinnamon. Wow.

You can’t help but look at her with stars in your eyes, adoration clearly written all over your tired features as Izuku’s mom moves back to the kitchen and opens up a box full of FUCKING PANCAKES. How did she know?! Is this her quirk? Knowing when people want to eat pancakes?!

Are there any people around with quirks like that? They probably got a lot of shit for having such a useless quirk, not like you have any rights to judge with your quirkless ass.

If this is a fanfiction, the writer needs to sort her shit out and stop reflecting her raging ADHD on you. You have enough problems already, all these random thoughts just make the situation even worse.

Okay, let’s focus.

“That’s fine honey, I just wanted to bring you two some snacks! I’m Inko Midoriya, Izuku’s mother, nice to meet you! I heard a lot about you!” The woman smiles; a blush spreads on your face from the knowing look Inko gives you. What did he tell her exactly?!

“I-I was actually craving pancakes today.” You mumble right before you realize you didn’t even say your name yet. How can you be so rude?! “Ahh sorry, I’m Y/N! Nice to meet you too!” You stutter awkwardly, trying to maintain an eye contact to not be rude, but it’s really hard, to be honest.

“Good to know you have an actual name, Izuku calls you Sweet Pea all the time, I was actually wondering if you were real at all.” The woman giggles while she puts a few pancakes on a plate for you. Your face must be the shade of crimson at this point if the heat of your face is anything to go by.

“Ahh, yes, it’s an inner joke.” You mumble, ashamed. You need to tell Midoriya to not tell others about that nickname. It’s definitely not something you would call a friend. Maybe you SHOULD talk to Midoriya about this whole situation, make him aware of his actions… but then you wouldn’t get any more sofa cuddles. Or good night kisses… Ahh, fuck that. Let’s just go with it for now. You are already completely, utterly wrecked emotionally so it really doesn’t matter anymore. It’s too late to change things now when you are so used to the way he embraces you after a long shift. It will hurt later when he finds someone better but it wouldn’t hurt any less now so you might as well just enjoy it until it lasts.

“Izuku was always like that.” Inko says dreamily. “He always gives his closest people a silly nickname. When Katsuki and him became best friends he started to call him Kacchan. Katsuki hated it so much, but eventually gave in; us Midoriyas love people in a different way than others, and giving people nicknames is our specialty.” The woman giggles, her voice happy and airy. “I’m just a little bit surprised how quickly you became one of his favorites, but I’m glad.” She smiles with unshed tears in her eyes. “You know, he never had anyone, just his hero friends. He never came home with a lady… or a boy, I’m not judging!” She adds shyly. “That boy… he always does everything for others but never stops to look for what he wants. When he opened his agency, he bought me a house and sent me enough money every month to be able to live stress free without the need of having 3 different jobs. I had to beg him to get a proper flat instead of the tiny one without the window; he sent all his money to me in the beginning so he couldn’t move on with his life at all. Thankfully, Katsuki called me and we managed to make him understand we both want him to think about himself first, but it took us weeks.” The woman sighs. “I just want him to be happy, you know? I know having someone next to you has nothing to do with being happy but I feel like that boy could thrive with the right person next to him. I want him to have someone who finally makes him do what he wants and not what he thinks others want. Ahh, I’m rambling, ain’t I.” Inko scratches her head the same way Izuku does when he’s ashamed. These two are so similar it’s almost scary.

“No, I absolutely know what you mean.” You put your fork down for a second, even though the pancake is so bloody amazing it’s really hard not to keep eating it. “On the first week, he went back to his agency to shower to not freak me out. I told him off for not coming home right away and let me take care of him; this is his house he has all the rights to come home looking like a mess. He’s allowed to be fragile, he’s allowed to ramble about nothing and everything after a shitty day and he’s allowed to be dirty and smelly after a long shift. All these things are a part of him and I absolutely adore them all. It is what makes him a human being. So don’t worry about rambling, I love that you ramble the same way he does. It’s really adorable. And this pancake is godly, I’m a little bit sad he’s incapable of feeding himself properly, but that’s also a little bit cute. He’s so perfect in every way yet he can’t even make scrambled eggs.” You giggle to yourself. When you look up at Inko, the color leaves your cheeks; her lips are trembling and looks like she’s about to cry a river.

“Sorry, was that too much?! I really didn’t mean to make you upset, I mean I know how all this sounds but I’m not…”

You can’t finish the sentence because Izuku suddenly JUMPS IN THROUGH THE OPEN WINDOW and lands right in front of his wailing mother.

“Mom, don’t cry, what happened?” Izuku kneels in front of the woman, cradling her face. Your heart almost leaves your chest from the sight of him; he’s in his full costume, sweat shining on his forehead from running all the way here in the heat. His costume sticks to his features more, thanks to the wetness of his skin; you can see every single muscle underneath the costume. You haven’t seen him for almost a week and you didn’t think you will see him today either so needless to say, your heart is having an extremely hard time right now. He’s so gorgeous, goddamnit.

“Izuku!!!!” The woman cries. “I love her so much. So-so much, Izuku! She’s perfect!” She cries some more, looking at her son with fond eyes.

“I know.” Deku smiles, but it does not reach his eyes; there is a sadness to them today and you really hate it. He embraces his mother lovingly and doesn’t look your way at all; you are not sure if it’s because of your last awkward messaging in the middle of night or not. Probably. The heartbreak came sooner than you expected it. You were right, it really fucking hurts.

When Inko calms down Izuku wanders off to get himself a plate and sits down next to you; he touches your shoulders as he passes by, letting you know that everything is fine; the touch helps you to ground yourself and be free of your negative thoughts; you are overthinking again and you know it. Even if it’s awkward this is still Izuku; Izuku who would never hold a grudge against you for needing some space.

For your surprise, he doesn’t take a new pancake from the box but decides to steal yours; he takes the full stack of pancakes, drizzled with just the right amount of maple syrup and puts them down on his own plate; he grins at you cheekily while nibbling on a small piece.

“You thief!” You giggle with an incredulous look on your face, while you move your fork to his plate to steal one pancake back; there is a massive batch of pancakes still sitting in the plastic box, but this is way more fun.

“Hey, you said I can have whatever I want. I wanted your pancakes. You said it, now deal with the consequences.” Deku gives you a shit eating grin while he tries to not choke on the full sized pancake he just stuffed into his mouth. He looks like a 5 year old and it’s absolutely adorable.

“Don’t speak while you eat, you pig!” You shuffle closer, giving his shoulders a little bump with your own. Izuku moves his fork towards you, offering you a small pancake piece and you take it without a second though; Inko chooses this moment to clear her throat to remind you of her existence because you definitely forgot about it.

“Izuku, my love, did you forget to tell me something?” She looks between you two with questioning eyes but her smile is as big as her head; she clearly thinks that Izuku and you… oh, fuck.

“Oh no, it’s not… I’m not…”

“Oh my god, mom, please don’t finish that sentence.”

“I like your son.” You yell with your face on fire. “But our relationship is purely platonic, I swear.”

Izuku stares at you with wide eyes, also rocking a massive blush on his chubby cheeks.

“I also like Y/N. And w-we are… l-like this. All the time. P-Platonically.”

“Hmm.” Inko hums with a humble smile on her face, her eyes still wet from crying just a few minutes ago. “I’ll ask you again in a few weeks.” She WINKS at you two and grabs her bag from the living room. “I’ll go home, enjoy the pancakes! There’s also some brownies on the kitchen counter, I heard Sweet Pea really liked them the last time I sent some over!” Inko DANCES to the main door and closes it behind her, her giggles can still be heard thought the wall.

“Oh my god, that was so awkward, I want to die.” Izuku whines, hiding his face with his arms, pancakes forgotten.

“Well, it was awkward for you but I have your mothers blessing, so I don’t care.” You grin while still rocking a slight blush from the embarrassment.

“You are so mean, Y/N!” The greenette whines again, offended.

“Wow, are we back to normal names now? This relationship came to an end really quickly. How sad.”

You are absolutely mortified by the whole situation but you can’t miss the chance to bully your favorite hero to tears and it will also give you enough serotonin to be able to function for another few days without him.

“You could commit mass murder and I would still beg you to come back to me.” Izuku bursts out randomly, reducing you to a stuttering, blushing mess with his sudden confession.

“I-Izu!” You yell while your heart tries her best to blast out of your chest. “If I ever commit murder, please make sure to lock me away!” You reprimand. “You are a hero!”

“I can lock you in the cleaning cupboard.” He says nonchalantly, like you are talking about the weather.

“Kinky.” You wink, taking the lead back in the ‘game’; you are quite sure Izuku’s face is redder than yours right now and that’s all that matters.

“Oh my god, not in front of my mother’s innocent pancake!” He yells, hiding his plate from your sight; you can’t help but laugh out loud at the randomness of the situation.

“Why are we like this?” You giggle, your head ending up on the hero’s shoulders in the middle of your laughing fit.

“I don’t know but I hope it never changes.” He smiles fondly, his eyes full of an emotion you can’t place. There is a different shine to them now, brighter and more colorful than before but it might be just your own emotions reflecting in them, making you believe they are his own.

“Cheesy.” You roll your eyes mockingly, but your smile says a thousand words.

“You are.” The hero smiles, leaving a sticky, sugary kiss on your forehead while his left arm snakes around your lower back to pull you closer, almost making you fall between the two dining chairs. You both giggle at your clumsiness and go back to your abandoned pancakes; Izuku will need to leave eventually and probably won’t have another break until the evening, so you let him eat his pancakes in peace, surrounded by a comfortable silence.

~•🥦•~

— Deku’s Daycare! —

Half and half bastard: Y/N, the squad is going on a camping trip next week. It’s a 2 night trip to the woods, tents, camping supplies and transport provided by me. If you would like to be added to the attendance sheet, please send me a message. Have a great day.

Piggy 🐷: OMG a new name on the attendance sheet? What an exciting day for our boy!

Half and half bastard: It is indeed exciting. I haven’t updated our attendance sheet for ten years.

EMO bitch: I’m quite sure Mina was being sarcastic, Shouto.

Half and half bastard: Oh. But I am excited. I don’t understand.

Y/N: Oh, hello Shouto-kun, please add me to the attendance sheet! I’m also more than happy to provide some snacks and cookies for the trip!

Half and half bastard: Thank you very much, Y/N! Just a reminder for everyone: Don’t drink anything Denki gives you.

Pikachu: Hey!!!

Piggy 🐷 : Amen.

Kacchan Sugoi: Bring a condom Y/N, just in case.

Y/N: ?!

Shitty Hair: Ignore him, Y/N.

*Kacchan sugoi changed Shitty Hair’s name to Homeless Dude.*

Homeless Dude: HEY!

… Next Chapter!

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Potato ramble:

- So if you feel like this chapter wasn’t fluffy enough, wait for the next few. Like damn, I think I have diabetes at this point.

- About the camping chapter… well… so I wanted it to be a two parter… ended up writing 10K + words and by the look of it, it will have minimum 4 but rather 5 parts because I can’t stop writing it. I’m on the 4th part and I still have one full day to write about. 😂 Sorry in advance! 😂

- Shopaholic potato update: I know I said there won’t be any this week… but I bought 2 more funkos (Hawks and Jirou with a bass!) and there is a funko day on Saturday in my favorite geek store… send help.

- The “why are we like this” part is a reference to one of my fav comics ever called “Heartstopper” by Alice Oseman.

- I started to play with the MHA Strongest Hero mobile game. I don’t have an actual life anymore.

- So I was listening to my liked music on Spotify and this song came up and I was like omg if this story would be a movie this would be the opening of it! Enjoy!

- The ADHD joke wasn’t originally a part of this chapter, I wrote it in here in tumblr while editing because I had a really hard time concentrating and came up with random questions like the one written down, while editing and I had to vent about it. Apparently listening to music, swinging my legs left to right, drinking coffee and eating chocolate isn’t enough to keep me focused today. It’s one of those days. Jesus I’m rambling now. Help.

Likes, reblogs and comments are appreciated as always! 🥦

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Taglist: @porusuniverse @stickygumchewer @sixxze @mily-moo @momothemasocist @aymasakusa @sky179ler @kastuari @kenzie-deadly @shiviwrites07

#mha x reader #bnha x reader #bnha midoriya #midoriya x reader #midoriya x you #midoriya izuku x reader #midoriya izuku x you #pro hero deku #deku x reader #deku x fem!reader #deku x you

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whumpsoda · 3 months

Note

CAN AD HYPNOTIZE DARIUS BRIEFLY AS A TREAT

WOHEO Masterlist How could you do this to me… /j

It’s relatively short and not canon to the actual story as in my writing vampires are only able to hypnotize their sired (which Darius is not), but I couldn’t say no to such an awesome request :D

cw: hypnosis, vampire whumper and whumpee, intimate whumper

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Darius studied his blurry hands, fingernails covered in the brightest of bright pink messily applied nail polish. Below that was the itchy, extravagant tool of a far too poofy dress that scratched at the skin of his thighs. He grimaced.

Why was he…

Oh.

Through glazed vision he noticed the pair of elegant boots stationed in front of him. He knew those boots.

He slowly picked up his gaze, shifting his heavy head and trailing up a pair of thin legs, to meet the other vampire sitting atop the two’s luxurious bed, towering over his position on the floor.

Adrastus grinned down at him, so genuine and loving and captivating. His head swam with pleasure at the sight, heart beating and eyes fluttering in bliss. Darius merely sighed with pleasure, the uncharacteristically dull eyed smile widening on his lips.

He couldn’t clearly remember what had lead to it. Why his face was muddled with dirty makeup and his usually pristine hair messed and tangled, but he didn’t really mind. All of that just felt so distant. So unreachable. The only thing that really mattered to him was his beautiful master.

Master? That didn’t sound right…. did it?

Having seemingly spaced out, Adrastus brought him back to reality with a tip of his chin. His head lolled along helplessly with the motion, and he could tell their glee only greatened.

“Don’t nod off on me just yet, baby.” They purred in that mesmerizing, magical voice of theirs that he just couldn’t get enough of. He shifted his head around their hand, sticking his face into their palm and practically forcing them to pet him.

He swooned in pure ecstasy as their fingers brushed from his scalp to his jaw, mind melting with the hypnotic movement. He wanted more, he craved it, gently pushing his head into their palm and signaling them to repeat.

Each continuing pet was so wonderful that he mindlessly sat in a puddle of heaven as they continued. How kind of them to do such a thing. To grant him such a splendid gift as this.

He whined, a guttural and pained sound as their hand eventually slipped away. Their attention shifted for a moment, and he desperately rubbed his cheek against their leg in an unbecoming attempt to regain their focus.

They returned to him, holding up their camera, one of their most prized possessions, pointing it right at Darius and motioning for him to stay nice and still. “I must get a few pictures, darling, you just stay all pretty for me.” They cooed, and he eagerly did as told. “Look right at Master.”

His eyes lit up for just a moment. “Mm… Ma- Master…!” He stumbled, the title sliding right from his heavy tongue. Just right.

“Yes, dear. Now give me a look at that handsome little face.”

He peered straight into the lense as they instructed, smiling wide and perfectly obedient. He wanted to obey. Although… he wasn’t exactly sure just why, he simply knew that good boys were obedient. Surely he wanted to be a good boy, especially for Adrastus.

The blinding flash was irritating, but he only hazily shook the sight from his head before it was gone. The discomfort was so worth it to see the joy on their face as they took more, and his chest overflowed with dizzying warmth as they praised him endlessly.

“Such a good, pretty boy.” They sang. His fangs glittered in his impossibly wide, beaming smile, filled to the brim with the joy of compliments. They happiness he felt was so unique and overwhelming, he could’ve easily nodded off then and there.

He truly and utterly wished his new master, how stunning and magical they were, would keep him feeling so amazing forever.

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Taglist- @softvampirewhump @iys-cloud

If anyone wants to be removed or added to the taglist, please let me know :)

#asks :)#writing drabble #whumpblr #whump #pet whump #hypnosis whump #hypnotized #hypnosis #hypnotized whumpee #adrastus oc #darius oc #we only have each other #whump writing #vampire whump #vampire oc #vampire #vampire whumpee #vampire whumper #Whumper turned whumpee

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lillypad910 · 11 months

Text

Brother’s Best Friend

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Emerson!Girly girl!F!Reader

Word count: 5846

Warnings: none really, mostly fluff, girly crush on a boy older than you, unrequited love, little bit of angst but not a lot, happy ending!

Summary: You are 16, the little sister of Gareth Emerson, the drummer of Corroded Coffin. You take every opportunity to be around the band of guys. Why? Not because of your brother, no! Because of him! Eddie Munson, the man of the show, the 20 years old in his second run of Senior year, also your brother’s friend. And boy, do you have such a school girl crush on him.

A/N:Trying to make more interesting photos, specifically with this one.

You wake up in the morning, the sunlight just making its way into your room. It’s Monday, band practice for Corroded Coffin tonight would take place at your house. You get up, panning your closet to find an outfit. You wanna look cute, charming, no more simple little girl, you’re a grown up now. You stare at the colorful array of clothing, the pastels and neutral colors stare back at you. ‘Ok,’ you think to yourself, staring at the items of fabric completely mesmerized by the cute frilly skirts and Peter pan collared shirts, ‘maybe one more week.’ Pulling out your favorite skirt and blouse, you put it on before putting your hair in a half-up, half-down look with a flower clip. You pull out some frilly white socks, and your favorite shoes, a pair of Mary Janes.

After putting everything on, you make your way downstairs, and get greeted by your mother, who’s making breakfast. “Good morning, dear! Gareth! Breakfast!” She calls out to your older brother. Gareth comes sprinting down the stairs, almost tripping on his untied shoelaces. “Thanks, Mom!” He starts shoveling food into his mouth as you sit down at the table to calmly eat. “It’s still ok for the guys to come over this afternoon, right?” Gareth asks your mom, “Of course! They can stay for dinner also if they want, is that alright with you, (y/n)?” You look up at your mother then towards your brother who stares at you, “yeah, that’s fine.”

You remembered the days the band of boys came crowding your garage. You remember the times and days they do gigs at The Hideout, Tuesday’s at 8. You always beg your brother to take you.

After eating, you both grab your bags and head towards Gareth’s car. The drive to school was full with Van Halen screaming in your ears, but you don’t mind. You like the band, just as much as your brother, but refuse to admit it to anyone but him and his friends.

Gareth parks the car, and you immediately step out, waiting for him as he takes his time gathering his belongings. “Come on, Gareth! Class starts soon!” You glance at your wrist watch. “If you’re worried then go. I don’t get why you have to wait on me.” You feel your cheeks heat up, knowing the reason you always did. Him.

Your brother locks the car, shoving you lightly towards the school. About half way towards the doors, a voice calls out. “Gareth!” You both turn to see Eddie Munson running up, throwing his arms around you both before walking with you both towards the door.

Eddie Munson. He is a 20 year old senior who was held back for two years. You didn’t care. To you, Eddie is perfect. Eddie Munson couldn’t do anything bad. You were so smitten you didn’t understand how your brother didn’t know. Your mom sure as hell did.

Ever since that first day of freshman year, when you came in dressed in your usual way and immediately met with rude teens, bullying you, Eddie jumped in. He defended you, protected you. So now here you were, completely and utterly in love with a boy you knew to be completely unreachable. Unless-

“How was your weekend, (y/n)?” Eddie’s perfect voice pulls you from your internal thoughts. “What?” You ask, looking at the older boy with such admiration. “Your weekend. How was it?” Eddie chuckles, removing his arms from you and your brother and opening the door. Your brother walks in and you follow close behind. “Good! How was yours?” You ask. He smiles at you, walking through the door and letting it shut behind him as you both start down the hall. “Alright, oh, Gareth, we still on for practice at your house tonight?” You continue to stare at Eddie as you walk. “Yeah, asked this morning.” “Good.” Barely a second later, you’re pulled to Eddie, your back pressing to his chest for a brief moment, making your heart pound, before being pushed in front of him by a couple steps. You almost walked into a pole while staring at him. “Careful, Sweetheart.” Eddie laughs at you as your cheeks flush red.

Sitting in class you stare at the board in front of you before feeling bored and scribbling into your notebook. You draw simple sketches before completely zoning out into your work. Your hand continues to move as you defocus. “(Y/N)!” You snap out of your daze and look up at the board, your teacher practically glaring at you. “Sorry, what was the question?” You ask, laughs fill the classroom and you sink into your chair. “I was asking if you knew the answer to question 7.” The teacher speaks, venom filling her words. You nod quickly yanking out the homework from your binder. You give the answer, honestly scared it was wrong for a minute. “Thank you.” You look down towards your note book. Your face goes red. Written multiple times on the page in pretty lettering was ‘(Y/n) Munson.’

When the school bell rings, you scurry to shove your things into your bag. You get up from your seat and walk out of the door quickly. Your class was just down the hall, but you quickly turn down a separate hallway. Just as you walk by a certain classroom, out comes a certain boy, “Oh, hey, (y/n)!” Eddie greets you, you smile at him, “Hey!” You greet back, “I was meaning to ask, are you coming tomorrow for our gig at The Hideout?” He asks, holding out his hand to you. Your heart flutters, you think about taking it for a split second before it lands back at his side, “Yeah, if Gareth is willing to drive me. I’d like to.” You express, a blush fanning over your cheeks. “Well if he refuses to, let me know, I can come pick you up.” You feel butterflies form in your stomach, “Really? You’d drive me to your gig?” “Yeah! Your like our personal cheerleader! You have to come!” Eddie smiles at you, shoving into you slightly. You giggle, before shoving back into him. “Well this is me, just let me know ok?” He smiles, you nod before he turns around and walks into his next class. The warning bell dings and you quickly book it to your next class, just slipping into your seat as the late bell rings.

As classes go by, you enter the lunch room to see your brother at his usual spot with his friends. You take a deep breath before joining your own, knowing it’s too weird if you joined your brother for lunch. That just goes over your limit of contact with him. You deal with his foolery enough at home.

Sitting down in your seat, you watch as Eddie chats with his friends, excited about something. You can’t help but smile. You love seeing him excited, it makes you feel all giddy. “(Y/n), are you coming?” Your friend, Jenny, interrupts your starring. “You coming to the party tonight? At Jason’s?” Jenny is a cheerleader you’ve been friends with since elementary school. “Oh, uh no, I have a project to work on, sorry.” You glance back towards the boys. Jenny turns and smiles. “Right. A project.” She smiles at you. You blush as you continue to eat your lunch.

“(Y/n), come on!” Gareth calls out to you, spinning his keys around his finger, his other hand in his pocket while he steps out of the school. Jeff walks next to him chuckling to himself. “Cut her some slack, dude, she has short legs.” You glare at Jeff before running up and shoving him lightly, making him stumble, but it really just makes him laugh. “Good shove.” A voice comes from behind you, you turn to see Eddie, your heart flutters instantly. He glances at the top of your head, before reaching up. He takes the flower clip out of your hair before putting it in his own. “How do I look?” He asks you with a smirk. Gareth and Jeff chuckle to themselves a bit, as Eddie takes the clip out of his hair and stepping behind you.

His nails run over your scalp instantly relaxing you. Your eyes shut at the comforting feeling of your hair being lifted back into its original hold, the clip being put back into place. “There.” He steps back. “Perfect.” He smiles at you, and you smile back. “Nice clip, (y/n). Got it out of the garbage?” A cheerleader walks by but slows as she passes you all, laughing at her own joke. “Nice hair, got it from your grandma’s closet?” Jeff calls back. The girl immediately stops laughing and struts off. “Thanks, Jeff.” He nods towards you, you look back towards Eddie and he’s glaring at the girl as she walks off, “Bitch…” simply mumbles from his lips. You can’t help but smile. “Well, I’ll see you guys at my house in about an hour,” Gareth says, stepping back. “(Y/n), come on.” He gestures to you, and you quickly follow after him.

After getting home, you drop your bag off in your room, before quickly finishing your homework. You hear cars pull up into your driveway, looking out to see Eddie’s van. A smile plasters onto your face and you wait a minute before running downstairs, slowing down as you reach the bottom. “Dear, can you take these snacks into the garage? I know your brother’s friends just got here.” You nod, happy that your mom always gave you a task, aka a reason, to go into the garage when they were here.

“Snacks!” You announce, opening the door to the garage. Everyone turns to you and smiles. You sit the plate down on the small side table they have sitting in the corner.

You sit on a stool by your brother’s drum set, watching as the guys start playing. Your eyes watch Eddie as his fingers strum the guitar, admiring him.

During a break, everyone takes a minute to either use the bathroom or get drinks, that kinda thing. Eddie walks over to you, sitting on the stool for the drum set, just in front of you. “How y’a feeling, Sweetheart?” He asks, you smile at him, giddy after the loud music they were just playing. “Good! You guys are really good.” He smiles at you and stares at you.

For the short few seconds he actually watches you, it feels like ages to you, your heart racing and pounding in your chest.

Eddie stands as the rest of the band walks back in, going back over to his guitar. As they get ready to play again you try to get your heart to steady again. A hand places on your head and you look up to see Gareth behind you, only stepping by you to get to his drums. “Good?” He asks, giving you a thumbs up. You nod and he sits.

Later that night, after the guys had left after dinner, you sit in your room and pan over the notebook you were scribbling in during first period. Your name with Eddie’s last name makes your face go bright red and your heart quicken. “God dang it..” you mumble to yourself. Before closing the book and climbing into bed.

In the morning, Gareth drives you both back to school, and you ask him on the way, “Will you take me to see your gig tonight?” Your voice was sugar sweet. “Nope. It’s a bar, (y/n), we’ve talked about this.” You pout, annoyed he never lets you, all you want is to cheer them on! “Please?? I wanna be there to support you guys!” Gareth glances at you as he parks the car in the parking lot. “I said no. If you want a ride you’re gonna have to figure it out on your own.” You glare at him before getting out of the car.

Eddie greets you both down the path,placing his arm around your shoulder “well?” He asks, looking between you and Gareth. “Well what?” Gareth asks. “He won’t drive me, Eddie.” You tell him, pretending to look hurt. Gareth glares at you, obviously knowing the game you’re playing. “What??” Eddie turns to his friend. “She’s 16, Eddie.” “She’s our personal cheerleader! She a genuine fan, Gareth!” He expresses. Gareth shakes his head. “She’s my little sis, you’re not putting her in a place I can’t watch her.” Eddie thinks for a moment. “Then we will have her sit at the bar where we can keep an eye on her! I’ll take personal responsibility for watching her!” Your heart skips. “I’ll even drive her! Please, Gareth, she’s the perfect energy we need!” Eddie makes a pouting face towards your brother, nudging you. You quickly make a cute pout face, hoping it works to convince him. Gareth grumbles to himself for a minute before letting out a soft “fine.” He then follows with “but you’re driving her.” Eddie and you let out laughs before walking into the school.

School goes by fast today, doing your usual routine of walking down the hall Eddie’s classes are on just to run into him. You chat about simple things, one being how excited you were to finally get to come to their show. Eddie can’t help but smile at your excitement.

When you get home in the afternoon, you quickly change into the (very few) things you have that are a mellow version of yourself. You don’t wanna draw attention, knowing Eddie and the gang won’t be really able to jump in to your rescue. You ask your brother if you can steal one of his band tees to blend into the crowd, and he lets you, also not wanting you to draw too much attention.

So there you were standing in your one pair of denim jeans, your brother’s (quite large on you) Iron Maiden t-shirt, and some short cut ankle boots. Gareth also gave you a flannel in case you got cold, but he made you wear it completely.

Of course, knowing your parents also wouldn’t want you going, you both stayed quiet about the engagement. When Gareth walks outside to get into his car later in the evening, he had told you before to wait on Eddie, in your room, and climb out your window when he got there.

You watch the driveway like a hawk, trying to watch for Eddie’s van. He pulls up and your heart skips. You open your window and wave at him, as he parks and steps out of the van. He stands just outside your window as you climb out onto the roof. You carefully make your way to the ground, Eddie catching you when you reach the bottom. His arms wrapped around you thighs as he holds you against his chest. You feel your face heat up. “Nice outfit! Iron Maiden, I like it!” He sits you down smiling. He goes to open the passenger van door, letting you take a seat, before shutting it for you. “To the Hideout we go!” He says, pulling out of your driveway.

Eddie has you sit on a bar stool at the bar for the entire night, obviously wanting to know where you are at all times. You ask for a glass of water, and the bar tender gets you one, smiling kindly. “You must be (y/n).” He speaks. He’s a boy you’ve seen around school, but never really paid much attention to. You nod. “Gareth talks about you all the time, they all do.” He smiles, gesture towards the band as they set up for the show. “There isn’t much to talk about.” You admit, sipping your water. “I beg to differ, Eddie never shuts up about how adorable you are.” Your heart stops.

He thinks you’re adorable? Your heart begins to race. Eddie Munson thinks you’re adorable!

When the guys start playing, they are just as good as they are during practice. You’ve gotta admit, as annoying as you brother can be, he’s great at drums and looks hella bitchin up there. You look over to Eddie only to see him look back down at his guitar.

Was he looking at you?

You watch the show, the loud music blares in your ears, just like at practice. But somehow it’s louder, the adrenaline rush you get is crazy, wanting to bang your head to the music, but also not look like an idiot.

After the concert ends, Eddie comes over to you and smiles, “So, whatcha think, Sweetheart?” You smile at him, “You guys are really good! Way better than practice.” You giggle at him. He ruffles your hair, “It’s nice to have you here, you raise a lot of moral for the guys. And as much as Gareth didn’t want you here, I can tell he’s glad you are.” Eddie nudges your shoulder. “I’m glad I’m here too.” You smile at him. He glances back at stage, “Do you want me to drive you home?” He asks. “Yes!” The word slips out of your mouth faster than you could think. “I mean- yeah, I would like that.” You try to play off. Eddie chuckles at you, before ruffling your hair again, “cool.” He walks off and you finally breath.

Eddie drives you home, stopping towards the bottom of your driveway. You stare at your house, not wanting the night to end. “I had fun.” You simply say, Eddie smiles at you. “I’m glad! Well, you should probably go inside, we do have school tomorrow.” Eddie shoves your head playfully, making you giggle.

You both say goodnight before you climb back up to your window, softly dropping onto the carpeted floor of your bedroom. You sigh thinking of Eddie’s soft smile. You hear his car drive away, and pop your eyes over the windowsill to watch the van drive down the road. You are head over heels for that boy.

Sitting at lunch the next day, you chat with Jenny as she tells you about the party you missed the other night. You don’t care, obviously, but you let her finally reveal to you all the gossip that occurred. She loves to spill everyone’s secrets to you.

“And then Jason said- (y/n), are you even listening?” She smiles at you softly. To be honest, no, you weren’t, you were too busy staring at the ‘freaks’ as they ate lunch. “Snap a picture it will last longer.” Jenny’s comment pulls you from your stare, “What?”

“Why don’t you just talk to him! You are totally in love with him! Not to mention he’s always been protective of you!” “Yeah, because of Gareth! I’m his friend’s little sister, of course he’s gonna be protective of me! He doesn’t like me like that, Jenny! Besides he’s too old!” “Too old? Please! You stare at him like he’s a new Fleetwood Mac cassette! Girl, get a grip on reality!! He likes you! And yes, he’s hot, so talk to him!” “No!” “(Y/n)!” “Jennifer!” She glares at you, obviously not a serious one. “If you don’t I will.” Your face goes pale, “you wouldn’t dare!” Jenny smirks at you, “You bet money on that?” She stands and you quickly stand after her.

“Jenny, please!” You follow her as she walks across the cafeteria, your heart racing. “Hey! Munson!” Jenny yells out, and the entire group turns to you both. “Jenny, I swear!” Eddie raises his brow as you both walk up to his table. “Yeah?” He asks, pushing his chair back to give you both his full attention.

Mike, a freshman Eddie has brought into the group, looks at the cheerleader you are friends with. “What’s going on?” Mike asks Dustin, who is seated next to him. Dustin shrugs. “I have a question, Munson,” Jenny places her hand on her hip, striking a pose. Eddie glances at you and you glance back, before you both look back at the cheerleader. “Shoot.”

“Would you be interested in a date? Say Friday, 5:30, diner across town?” Jenny’s voice is overly confident. You heart pounds in your chest, scared for his answer. Jenny is the prettiest girl you know, even you know that. “Uhh,” Eddie glances at his friends, “all kindness, Darling, but you’re not really my type.” Your eyes widen as you pan to Jenny’s face. You can tell she wasn’t exactly expecting him to say yes, but also wasn’t expecting to be rejected. “Is (y/n) in that type?” Jenny asks. “Ok!!” You grab your friend and start pulling her back.

“I mean,” Eddie glances at Gareth. “She cute.” He simple states.

“Cute?” Jenny smugly reiterates. You feel your heart burst from the word. Eddie Munson thinks you’re cute! You quickly grab your friend and drag her back to your table. “See you guys later!!” You yell out as you shove Jenny. You can’t help but have a huge smile on your face for the rest of the day.

Walking towards your brother’s car, before you round the corner, you hear the guys talking. “Cute?” Gareth asks. “Yeah, I mean she’s adorable.” Eddie tries to explain. You stop in your tracks. They are talking about lunch.

“Eddie, she’s 16.” Gareth glares at him. Eddie holds his hands up defensively, “I’m not saying I’m attracted to her, Gareth,” your heart stops. You feel like everything around you slows. “Her friend just asked if she fit my type. Besides what did you want me to say! You know (y/n) is self conscious in the way she dresses! I didn’t wanna make her feel bad.” He only said you were cute to not make you feel bad?

“Eddie, just be careful with what you say. She’s sensitive, always has been. One wrong choice of word and her mind goes everywhere.” “Yeah, which is why I said cute. I didn’t say pretty. I’m not hitting on her, Gareth.” Eddie lets out a soft chuckle. You feel your eyes water, everything shatters.

You wait a few minutes after they stop talking, or at least change the topic. Turning the corner you greet them, “Hey!” You put on a fake smile. Eddie smiles back. Gareth signals you to start walking as you catch up about the rest of the day.

When you get home you go straight to your room, crawling into bed and shoving your face into your pillows. You allow yourself to cry, smothering your sadness into the fabric of your bedding.

Friday comes quickly, as the rest of the week goes by in a blur. Sitting in the gym as the game goes on in front of you, Jenny doing the cheer routine she’s been working on with the other cheerleaders. You feel out of place.

As the night comes to a close, you follow the rest of the school out of the gym, the cheering the whole school makes, congratulating the team for winning the championship game. But you don’t care, you just want to go home. You spot the Hellfire club running out of one of the side doors, happy to know your brother was ready to go too. You walk over to them silently, faking a smile. “Hey, how was the campaign?” You ask Gareth. “Great! Erica Sinclair beat Vecna!” Gareth smiles back at you. Erica?

You look past your brother to see a young girl, maybe 11, standing proudly. You smile and go to wave but Jeff cuts in front of you. You hesitate, and just put your hand back by your side. “Gareth, I wanna go home.” You tell your brother, gripping at his flannel. He doesn’t pay you any attention and continues to celebrate with the rest of the group. You feel your stomach turn.

“Gareth.” You call out, but he waves you off. “What’s up?” A voice comes from behind you and you whip around, Eddie stands there smiling, but stops when he sees your face. “Whoa, hey, you ok? You look tense.” He asks. You nod, feeling awkward. You’re not gonna lie, you’ve been dodging Eddie since Wednesday afternoon, since he said he didn’t like you.

“I’m ok. Just tired.” You explain. He nods and slaps Gareth over the head, “Hey, jackass!” Gareth hisses at the slap and turns around. “Take her home. You’re her ride. Don’t ignore her.” Eddie tells your brother. You feel your cheeks heat up. Eddie places his hand on your head, “hey,” you look up at him, “get home and get some rest, ok? Make sure to eat something.” You nod at him.

On Saturday morning, you wake up and head down into the living room. Your parents sit around the tv, the news displayed on screen. “This morning, a Hawkins High Student was found dead. We have no name or suspects to note just yet, but have been told the family of the student will be made aware.” You rub your eyes as you eye the trailer behind the reporter. Your eyes widen. “Gareth!!” You yell up.

Gareth comes running downstairs. “What?” You point to the tv your parents are watching. Gareth stares at the screen and you watch his expression go from confused to concerned. You both look at each other. “Eddie.”

The next couple of days follow with no new news of Eddie’s whereabouts, what’s worse is people are claiming he killed the student, which is bull shit! Eddie wouldn’t do that.

By the end of the following week, your small little corner of the world had been flipped upside down, but Eddie was found, his crime proven innocent. He was in the hospital for a good week before he was finally released.

You didn’t know what happened to him after he left the hospital, truth be told you never say him again. Gareth says he left Hawkins, drove out west towards California probably, but even he didn’t seem certain.

The years flew by and before you knew it, you were 22, standing outside a bar in Indianapolis with your college friends, one of them still familiar, Jenny from high school.

“I can’t believe I was able to get these tickets!” Your newer friend, Steph, grins ear to ear. “I can’t believe I get to actually see them live!!” Jenny shrugs, “It’s crazy, I swear I’ve heard that name before, too.”

You glance down at your paper ticket, the name ‘Corroded Coffin’ inked on the page. You know you’ve seen it before too, but you can’t put your finger on it.

After getting into the bar, you all crowd around the stage, and the moment it starts you know where you’ve seen that name before.

Suddenly you were that 16 years old girl again, heart fluttering under your Peter Pan collared shirt, back to your garage, the loud music blaring through you, but this time the drummer isn’t your brother, the other two members aren’t Jeff or Kevin, but there he is.

Eddie Munson walks out on stage, his long curls still the same, his body still littered in those tattoos you wish you could have seen up close.

Steph giggles, leaning into you, “isn’t he so hot?” You glance at Jenny, who doesn’t seem to recognize him. “Yeah,” you simply say, “definitely.”

As the band takes a break you spot Eddie sneaking off to the bar. “Hey, I’ma get a drink,” you pat Jenny’s shoulder and she nods. Stepping closer to the bar, you take this opportunity to admire him, his scrawny body now has a bit more muscle, but he’s still pretty lean. “Eddie…?” You call out to him, and he whips around quickly, smiling already.

“That would be my name, yeah.” Eddie stares at you, before his smile drops. “(Y/n)…?” You nod at him, “yeah, s’been a while.” You smile. Eddie steps closer to you, looking you up and down, “damn,” he smiles, “you’ve grown up.” You laugh a bit, “yeah, that kinda happens when you are older than the legal drinking age.” He chuckles, holding out his arms to you and you embrace him, hugging him close. “God, I haven’t talked to the guys in years! How’s Gareth? He doin’ ok?”

You shrug, leaning up on the bar, “he’s ok, believe it or not, that jackass got married last year.” “What!? And I missed the wedding??” Eddie pouts, utterly disappointed. “Yeah,” you simply say, you can’t stop your eyes from looking him up and down, checking him out. “Damn, is the girl nice at least?”

“She’s sweet, they still live in Hawkins, he’s got a musical instruments shop there, now.” You inform, watching as Eddie nods, taking a sip of his drink. “Well that’s good. What about you?” He asks, looking at you inquisitively. “I’m in school, college.” You point towards your friends, “Still friends with Jenny, made a new friend Steph. She’s actually the reason we are all here tonight, she’s a fan.” I gesture towards the stage. He nods, “theres a lot more of them in this room than there was ever at the Hideout.” You nod, glancing around the room. “It’s weird, I remember always wanting to see you guys play live, and then you invited me. Now here I am with a bought ticket because you actually have to buy one now.”

He laughs, Eddie can’t help but look you up and down, but you don’t notice. You watch your friends giggle in the crowd, until you feel a hand press to your waist. “I have to get back, meet me after?” He moved closer to you, so when you turn your head he’s right there.

That small 16 years old in you would have died, but you’re not 16 anymore, sure the crush hasn’t died, that much is obvious. But you’re actually a grown up now, wearing a short dress that cuts at your mid thigh. You know you look hot, and that’s all that matters.

“Yeah, I can meet you after.” You glance across his face, before he leans closer, placing his lips by your ear, your heart racing faster. “Good, can’t wait.” He pulls away and walks off leaving you a fluttering mess.

You wait outside the venue with your friends, Jenny and Steph talking about the show, they don’t know why you are here waiting, all you said was you saw an old friend. “That was so cool! God, gonna be holding that memory forever!” Steph cheers, genuinely happy. “Glad you had fun, Steph.” You tell her, she smiles.

“Hey!” A voice calls out to you all, and you all whip around, Jenny and Steph freeze. “Oh. My. God.” Steph looks at you. Eddie walks up, his hand up in a small wave. “Nice to meet ‘cha.” Jenny takes a second, “Oh my god!” The realization hits her, “Eddie Munson!” Steph never mentioned the names of the members, so Jenny never made the connection until right now. “Holly shit, I knew I’ve seen you before!” She grips your arm and shakes you, happily laughing.

“You two-“ Steph speaks, “You two know him??” Jenn corrects her, “I definitely only know the bare minimum, (y/n) here was obsessed with him in high school.” Your eyes widen, “Jennifer!” “Oh?” Eddie tilts his head, “obsessed? Elaborate.” Jenny smiles from ear to ear, you can tell she’s been waiting for this moment practically her whole life. “Oh my god, she used to have this journal that she would doodle in, I can’t tell you enough how many of the pages were just (y/n) Munson-“ “JENNIFER!” You slap your hand over her mouth. “You two need to go back to the hotel, I’ll meet you there,” you order pushing them to the curb before hailing them a taxi. “But-“ “Nope. You’re cut off, Jennifer.” The two get into the taxi, Steph sticks her head out the window and waves as the car drives off.

You turn back to Eddie, dropping your head in embarrassment, “Ignore her. Please. She doesn’t know what she’s saying.” “It’s fine, I…” he hesitates a moment before continuing, “I kinda already knew…” A soft chuckle leaves him. “What!?” You look up at him, face red and your arms scrunched over your chest like a T-Rex.

“You weren’t exactly… subtle, Sweetheart.” That old nickname makes you groan. He leans against the wall behind him, watching you carefully as you get more and more flustered.

“How long did you know?? When did you find out?” You ask, utterly blown. “The way you looked at me was enough to let me know. Sweetheart, you almost ran into a poll one time when staring at me.” You groan even more. “Oh my god, this is so embarrassing…” you cover your face in your hands.

He steps closer, lifting his hands to grab your wrists, pulling them away from your face. “I… thought it was cute though.” He mumbles. You realize very quickly how close he is to you. “I thought…” he glances away from you, “you were cute…” he mumbles, you feel the butterflies go wild in your stomach. “To be honest,” he looks back at you, “I didn’t think much of it back then. You were Gareth’s little sister.”

He sighs a bit, running a hand through his hair. “I thought it was cute you had a crush on me, but I never thought about reciprocating it, I mean fuck, I’m 4 years older than you, to me back then you were a little kid.” He chuckles a bit. “This might sound weird so bare with me,” he smiles at you, his stupid grin making you smile. “I didn’t ever think of you more than just Gareth’s sister, for the longest time. I honestly didn’t think much of you at all over these past years. But then there you were, smiling at me just in there, during my half time of my show.” You blush a bit. “I mean, what’s a guy supposed to do when God throws him his best possible catch. In a pretty dress, that adorable flower clip still in your hair.” You instinctively reach up to touch the clip, “yeah I noticed that too, don’t think I don’t see the old you still there.” He smiles. “You look good, more than good, you look pretty.” He stops talking for a moment.

“Eddie-“ you try to cut in but he continues. “I’m about to be an idiot or the smartest man alive but I’m willing to take that chance.” Before you can react, Eddie reaches out, cupping your cheeks in his hands, pulling you closer to him. your eyes widen when he leans forward.

Your lips press together perfectly. You hesitate before leaning into him, kissing him back. He moves one hand down to your waist, pulling you closer as your arms wrap around his neck, tangling your fingers into his hair. He pulls back a bit, laying his forehead on yours while you both catch your breath.

“So… am I an idiot…?” He asks, voice soft, his fingers balling up the fabric of your dress at your sides. “No…” you smile, “Not at all, Munson.” You lean into him again, pressing your lips together once more.

Tag list!

(If you wanna be tagged when I post shoot me an ask or comment on my posts saying so!)

@cagethemunson @cherrycolas-things @spikeybatt

#eddie munson x f!reader #stranger things #x reader #fluff #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #x girly girl! reader #brother’s best friend #eddie munson x fem!reader fluff #Eddie Munson x Emerson! reader #gareth emerson #angst/fluff

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mayasaurusss · 1 month

Note

I've been thinking about transmasc!shauna :(((

-💗

A/N: Hi 💗anon! I'm so so sorry I took this long to make this but i was conflicted on two ideas I got, since i didn't know if you wanted a sfw or nsfw headcanon/blurbs or a oneshot so, since I'm so cool and amazing, I did both! So, expect a Transmasc!Shaun oneshot (with a little twist ;) ), to come out in a few days.

Warnings: sfw, short and maybe kinda rushed, ooc Shaun, he is a clumsy and embarrassed boy, he is taller than us here because I said so, beginning of a relationship.

ANON! If you wanted general transmasc Shauna blurbs with more details about you, him and his journey with transition, ask away! I'd be more than happy to do them! I'm sorry if this isn't what you expected, I wasn't completely sure about how to do this but I tried my best!

Shaun who would fall in love with you the first time he sees you reading 'Pride and prejudice' on a bench outside of school.

He is totally smitten with you. He definitely told Jackie right away about his little crush and she, like the best friend she is, made a detailed plan on how to get your attention. And, since Jackie has befriended you -came to your desk after you had just moved schools and, oh so casually asked to be your friend- at the start of the school year (Shaun thinks:"What? She hasn't told me?" with an annoyed look on his face), this could flow all more smoothly.

This detailed plan consists of: Jackie approaching you after class with the intent of asking you to hang out after school, Shaun barging in the conversation asking Jackie something about helping him with literature studies -which Jackie knows is your favorite subject ever in your course-, excusing herself from his demands and asking you to aid her friend. It's perfect, Jackie thinks, Shaun feels this is too much but who is he to complain? Everything goes smoothly till, when he has to act his part in the plan, Shaun accidentally trips on thin air and falls, the contents of his backpack spilling all over the ground and the remains of his coffee staining his papers and shirt.

He is silent, his cheeks getting red with embarrassment. Both him, Jackie and you do not move for a moment, until the first one to move is you. You neatly pick up the papers and books that have fallen near you, meeting his eyes and looking at him with worry, "Are you ok?". His lips feel dry and his blood pressure rises causing him to redden even more than before "U-u-hh I... I am okay...", he feels like he is going to melt on the spot.

When he gets up, you have already helped him with all of his belongings, Jackie hadn't moved at all from her spot, too embarrassed (even if she hadn't been the one to be utterly humiliated in front of her crush). You try to lighten up the situation, joking about it all, Shaun laughs with you but he is in discomfort: the only chance he had to be the 'cool mysterious guy' blew off of his face, leaving a clumsy and stupid version of himself to the girl in front of him. You, on the other hand, don't think of him in that way: sure it was a bit embarrassing, and also funny, but he must've felt really embarrassed so you don't think about it too much.

Sometime passes, Shaun for the first days after closes himself in his room, remembering it all and changing inside his mind what happened. Jackie tries to call him, but he is unreachable; everything is starting to get ridiculous so Jackie rings the bell of Shaun's house and finds before her, her friend emotionally destroyed. She tries to comfort him, but to no avail; he is also angry at her but he won't mention it, otherwise Jackie would never let him hear the end of it. Much to his surprise, Jackie says that you asked him, "Is he ok? I haven't seen him" and "If he still needs help with the exam, I am here". He is very much red by now, the little hairs at the end of his neck standing up and his eyes watery. "...Really?".

When you meet him again, Shaun is tidy, he wears one of his flannel shirts and gray jeans, he has shaved the uneven peach fuzz that grew on his lips due to testosterone, and has a small red cut on the left side of his lip ("Who knows what she likes?" he tells Jackie while messily shaving himself "And besides I don't want to look like a barbarian!" says while unnoticing the small cut that he made. "Ah!" Jackie laughs, "Now you look like you've gotten into a fight with a cat!"). He tries to act cool, despite his total lack of knowledge on how to. When he sits down with you for the study session, the common hall is silent and you have to whisper, causing him to get a bit flustered. Your study session is cut short when you guys start to have an actual full-on conversation; unknowingly, you both start to talk and laugh a bit more loudly than normal, causing both of you to be escorted out of the library. Out, you two forgot completely your duties and spent an entire afternoon hanging out and talking. You notice it's starting to become dark, and when you look at the hour you see that you've lost an entire afternoon of study: you apologize profusely to him, and schedule another meeting. He can't complain, he gets to see you more.

For a while, this is your routine: meeting, trying to study, chatting and losing track of time. Until the exam gets close, so you try to help Shaun as much as possible and, with little to no surprise, he passes the exam. You are so proud of him, very much so, but now there is the little problem of how to see him again; he doesn't need your help again after all, maybe he never did. So you stay silent, hoping he will reach out to you. Unknowingly to you, Shaun feels the exact same, staring at his phone on the nightstand and hoping to receive a call. But none of you make the first step, both too afraid of rejection. That is when Jackie steps in, barging into Shaun's home with new, like Cupid, she strikes him with "She wants to see you again, I think she might like you". He is on cloud nine, his heart pumps fast and it looks like he might die of happines on the spot.

He calls, asking you to meet him at the same bench he saw you sitting on the first time. When you come, he is all giddy and blushy, he tries to rub off his tension from his hands. His voice is struck in his throat, he is the first to talk "I think...I would like to see you again, if it's fine..." you would like to kiss him, you think, but you're not sure he would like it at all, so instead you mutter "Sure...I would like that too'' with a smile. Your eyes met and without notice, you locked lips in a kiss. It's passionate, it's relieving, it's months of feelings and desires all in one kiss. You let out a breathy laugh, causing him to laugh in the kiss with you also, his arms hug your waist and you his neck, impossibly close to one another. He sighs, his heart is speeding and he feels a happines so strong that it almost seems pain,"Thank you, thank you, thank you...", he holds you close and strokes your cheeks “Thank you!".

#yellowjackets #yellowjackets x reader #shauna shipman x reader #yellowjackets x you #transmascshauna #shauna shipman #the author regrets everything

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jamminvroomvroom · 8 months

Note

perhaps no. 7 and lando norris🤠

romanticise this - james marriott

LN4 x reader

warnings: angst! minors dni with my work pls! slightly suggestive themes

oh girl it’s gonna be angst

tysm for the request!

this is the last time

that i pick up the phone to let you know

that you’re alone now

lando stared at the screen, praying it would light up, that you’d be the one to make the first move. he was over it, over the way you made his heart hurt, but he couldn’t quite let you go.

he reasoned with himself, attempting logic, using his brain for once. you lied, disappeared, only wanted him in your bed when he was home, and god, it wasn’t enough. it wasn’t enough and it was bordering on cruel, because you had to know by know, had to realise that he was utterly, embarrassingly, gut wrenchingly, foolishly in love with you.

sometimes, you let him dream, and that was probably the worst part. the times when you curled into his side, or let him fall asleep on your chest playing with his curls, or stayed just a bit longer in the mornings always got his hopes up. you let him romanticise you, and now he wondered if the idea of you was what had him trapped.

everyone had been trying to tell him, from the moment that you wormed your way in, that this was a god awful idea. you were most certainly not the one, according to every single person with a shred of common sense, but apparently lando did not have that in abundance.

and that’s why he picked up the phone first. he stared down your contact, thumb hovering over your number. he fought with himself, for a solid five minutes, before the weakness set in and the phone was ringing.

it rang and rang and rang. and then it rang some more. and then he called you again. and once more, just for luck.

lando needed to see you, needed affection and your touch and just you. and you were not there, unreachable. you were never there and it stung.

he decided, then and there, that he was done. he wouldn’t call, he wouldn’t text, he wouldn’t invite you over. he wouldn’t give in to your “you up?” texts, he wouldn’t go up to you in a club and he wouldn’t let himself fall further.

at least, not until next time he was home and the silence got too loud.

#lando norris #lando norris blurb #lando norris angst #lando norris x reader #lando norris fic #jas’s spotify blurbs #ask #anon #requests #writing things #f1 blurb

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dovesintherain · 6 months

Text

all encompassing

word count: 1.5k

warnings: fluff, extremely brief mention of smut

an: this poured out of me… so i wrote it impulsively. consider it a love letter of sorts, to our most cherished larissa.

tears not of sadness or joy... but of love

It was a rare sight to wake before her, your early bird. A sight so rare that each miraculous time it happened you cherished the moment like the gift that it was.

The sheer curtains that hung from her windows did little to block the crisp winter sun, but you found it impossible to be agitated when it painted her with such grace. Your sleeping swan, unconscious and innocent to her ethereal state, was a near mirror image to the icy landscape that stretched into the horizon. Freckled alabaster hills and valleys lay bare and untouched next to discarded linen sheets. You were utterly enraptured as the warm rays tangled themselves around her, illuminating fair eyelashes and messy curls spun from sunlight. You could have watched her for hours, finding a new way to be awed by the woman laying next to you as minutes blew by with the wind. The careful mapping of her sleeping figure came to a sudden pause when you noticed that you, too, were being observed.

Those eyes… so deep and vast like the sky and the sea, were glossy and unfocused. Her usual sharp stare softened around the edges as she pulled herself into the waking world. These were the moments that placed a gentle hum in your bones. A quiet buzz that tugged at the corners of your mouth and brought colour to your cheeks. The wrinkles beside her eyes that appeared when she smiled back downright levelled you. Completely unravelled and utterly safe in the warmth of her, your Larissa. You knew you had to get up soon, you both did. But in this moment, enveloped in tender and endless softness, you couldn’t find the willpower to move a single inch. The blue of her eyes poured so much of her love into your soul it began to overflow, filling your eyes.

You felt foolish. Powerless against the sheer magnitude of affection you held for her. The evocative mixture of memories you made in this very bed merely hours ago initiated the retelling. Neurons firing haphazardly within your skull as the memories, moments in time, filled your mind. All the laughter, the hushed conversations, the secrets, the sex, the fights, the lingering touches, the longing gazes glided rapidly behind your eyes. The story, the journey, in all its complicated and messy glory. Flashes of your time together dancing all the way back to the beginning. It all brewed together in your belly as a warmth began to grow and a burning stung your eyes. Sizzling until a boiling point where you could no longer contain yourself. Suddenly it was all too much. It was all her. It always was. When you finally caved, the dam finally breaking, you blinked and the tears fell.

She knew you so well. With an unbreaking certainty. Like the lines in her palm or the feeling of her favourite sweater against her skin. She knew you like how she knew the sun would rise only to fall and reveal the moon. She knew you beyond your body, beyond your mind and dare you say beyond your soul. She knew you so well that to her this was no surprise. No reason for unease or perturbation. As her gaze shifts once she notices the tracks on your cheeks it does not falter, it only grows softer.

To you, it always felt silly, the endless expanse of love you held escaping through the leaky faucets of your eyes, but every drop that landed on your skin would fill her soul ten fold. You watched as she slid her hand out from under her pillow and brought it to your face. The pads of her fingers collecting your tears would feel like an invitation for needless apologies, but you see… you also knew her. You knew that her fingers dancing across your cheek would press ever so slightly against your lips, making your words retreat back into your throat and into the far corners of your mind. Unreachable. So you hold them, where they remain lining the roof of your mouth and the backs of your teeth.

You knew that she would remind you like the endless times before that there is no need to be sorry. She would remind you what a privilege it is to feel so deeply. Deeply, unconditionally, wholeheartedly. Her gentle caresses would lose precision due to the trembling emotion in her fingertips when she would tell you what an honour it is. How privileged she feels to be held and kept so safely in your heart. Your heart. That poor useless thing. Stuttering, jumping and in most cases stopping completely in the presence of your lover. Maybe if your maker had known just how hard and fast you fell for the woman inches away from you, they wouldn’t have given you such a feeble vessel.

You knew that the low register of her voice in the morning would disarm you completely. The rasp of her sleepy vocal cords would vertebrate through you and create yet another crack in your shell. As if she hasn't already stripped you of all your armour, you'd think to yourself. The shell you once carried, that you once retreated into… long gone, instead morphing into the shape of the woman laying next to you. Your haven, your castle, your home. So you let the tears fall freely and let your mind and heart feel full. Full of her. There was no need to worry as the woman who held your soul in her hands saw your love for her reflected in the shine on your cheeks.

Larissa was a force. She was strong, she was fierce… but God she was gentle. Gentle in the way she addressed her students, folded laundry and turned the pages of books. She was gentle but never with herself, which broke your heart. Never good enough. That traitorous and poisonous lie you knew she told to herself everyday. You didn’t have to hear the words leave her lips to know how heavy the weight she carried was. You saw it. It was difficult to catch but with a trained eye you could see it. You knew her well enough that it stared at you in the face. The cynical shadow that hovered over her. You saw it in the bags under her eyes that she would shift away or cover with makeup. You saw it in the residual wine at the bottom of her third glass. You saw it in the countless nights that you would wake up to a cold bed only to find her working tirelessly down in her office. Your pillar of strength cracking itself from the inside.

But what that shadow didn’t know was that there was an aid. A light that Larissa went her whole life without… you. You with your feeble heart that would beat in sync with hers. Your presence would chase it away, back into the recesses of her thoughts, giving her a moment's peace. Relieving her of the weight. You always let yourself feel smug when her negative thoughts would retreat with its tail between its legs because in those moments she was entirely yours. Your pillar of strength unburdened. It was a promise you made to yourself, that any damage the lies she told herself would cause, you would mend. Brick by brick.

It was such a simple thing really, and even if it wasn’t… you would still do it for her. You’d do anything for her. But the little acts of kindness were enough. Little reminders to show her that she was always enough because nothing fed your soul quite like seeing her happy. The chuckles that escaped her when you attempted to carry a ridiculously large bouquet of flowers (that you could barely see over) through her office doors. The flush that would take over her complexion when you would tell her how beautiful she looked when she was completely undone. Even the way you could feel the tension leave her through a quiet exhale when you would wordlessly lace your fingers together with hers. You knew that if she’d let you, that you would do those little things for the rest of the time you’d be graciously granted with her.

Oh the little games you played. The unspoken rules you both followed. Fighting her demons while you let her wipe your needless tears. Your early bird, your sleeping swan, your pillar of strength, your keeper of your feeble heart, your lover, your everything… your Larissa. As the tears finally slowed to a stop, her hand drifted from your cheeks. Her fingertips traced over your lips with the precision of a well practised painter. Among the million thoughts of her flying through your brain a single phrase reared its head. Just like it did every morning, evening and night. A truth that ran so deep in your bones it shook you to your very core. Three little words that were carved into your heart and with a single breath you whispered them into her skin.

“I love you.”

cheers to the discomfort of exposure therapy @weemssapphic !

#gwendoline christie #larissa weems #larissa weems x reader #larissa weems fluff #larissa weems imagines #wlw #fluff

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the-dixon-effect · 9 months

Text

Bruised ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

Part 2 - Reasons to Take More

A/N: part 2 of a series requested by @matilda4eve which you can find here! you can also find part 1 of the series here

summary: Daryl finally confesses his feelings for Y/N after a somewhat drunken accident.

era: season 6, pre-Negan Alexandria

pairing: Daryl Dixon x fem!reader

words: 2k

warnings: swearing, mentions of stitches, nothing really

The kiss was slow, pure, and flavoured by unadulterated need. Perhaps if you were less wasted on cheap whiskey and cigarettes, you would have used your remaining consciousness to enjoy the moment a little more. Daryl tasted like... fuck, you weren't imagining what he tasted like. You had spirited away to your own fantasy land where all that existed in the world was you and him. Daryl kissed like... a man learning a foreign language, having only learned the present tense and second person. Only now, only you.

Your tongues swirled around and desperately explored the parts of eachother that had seemed so unreachable before. Daryl's left hand rested on the curve of your hip while the other settled for the back of your neck, gently grabbing sections of your soft hair and pulling you in closer. Soon, you became aware of the need for oxygen as the pit in your stomach rose and you pulled away; only slightly.

And the rest was a blur. It was likely that you had wrapped your arms around his broad shoulders and continued your heated make-out session. Perhaps he'd lifted you up effortlessly and placed you over his lap not once breaking the distance between you. Perhaps he'd let his hands traverse the expanse of your body.

It didn't matter now, of course, as you lay awake in your own bed, struck by a terrible headache and a burning desire to go back to sleep. Your eyes fluttered open and immediately snapped shut at the bright light streaming in through your bedroom window. You winced, still feeling the effect of sunlight breaching your eyelids. Were you... hungover? You sat upright and, keeping your eyes firmly closed, you attempted to cast your mind back to whatever events could have transpired yesterday to have you feeling like this in the morning. It felt like even thinking seemed to hurt. What had you done previously that day? You're a doctor. So you went to work in the infirmary as normal. Stitches- somebody needed stitches. Daryl... Dixon. Needed stitches. Then... you went to check on him later to see how he was doing. He might have offered you a drink, right? Thank God nothing happened, you thought, as you looked around the room just grateful to be in your own bed.

You didn't remember.

Daryl woke up in a similar manner, having tossed and turned all night regarding the events of the evening, utterly aggravated by the morning light causing his head to pound like a drum. He didn't even remember the fresh stitches that peppered his chest from only yesterday. This time, however, his mind was scattered with thoughts and memories of you, and that beautiful kiss. No, no, she was drunk. Shit, she didn't want this, she doesn't want you. Daryl could almost hear his older brother's voice. How could a pretty girl like her want a redneck piece of shit like you? That's right, she doesn't. And she never will.

Drunk girls kiss anyone they see, right? There's no way she meant it, not for Daryl anyway. Still, thoughts of Y/N stirred with hungover curses and regretful denials in the fuzzy mess that was Daryl's mind. Damn, it was good, though. He would give just about anything for the affirmation that you really did want to kiss him, just so he could do it again. How was he supposed to go on now? What would happen if you remembered as well? You might hate him for it. You might never want to speak to him again. Anyone would be able to sense the awkward air that floated between the two of you when he visited the infirmary. Shit, he really fucked this one up. He should've known you wouldn't be able to handle your liquor and waited till you were sober. Come on man, be realistic. Y/N would never kiss you sober.

Putting his mind to rest, Daryl got out of bed deciding that it was probably way past sunrise. Maybe Carol would have some words of advice for him?

He dismissed the idea of a shower and headed out towards the more central area of the town searching for Carol, who he figured he might spot practising her social endeavours under the alias of a sweet housewife. Daryl hoped to God that he wouldn't run into you, just for the sake of not having to deal with this situation right now. He recognized Carol perched next to that man, Tobin, on his porch sat a little closer to each other than seemed normal. He didn't want to interrupt, but, he desperately needed assistance from someone familiar with that kind of department. And soon, before he went doing something he'd regret later.

"Hey, can I borrow ya' for a sec?" he called out, hoping the man wouldn't seem too bothered.

"Yeah, sure!" she laughed and muttered something of an apology to the man by her side and bounced down the front steps. She was truly milking it out with this persona. Heading to walk down the road so the two of them weren't idly standing in front of Tobin's house, Daryl began to speak, albeit a little hesitantly.

"There's sumthin' I gotta ask ya," he drawled, reluctant to speak the next words in fear of humiliation.

"What it is?" she continued to stare blankly at him, hoping that something interesting might actually be happening in this town for once instead of his usual rants about hunting and weaponry.

"It's, uhh- It's Y/N, y'know, the doctor," he began cautiously. He hadn't much opened up about his love life (or lack thereof) to anyone before, maybe with the exception of his brother, who insisted on scolding him for his inability and unwillingness to bring chicks home.

"Ooh, she's pretty. So what's going on, you got a crush on her?" she started.

"Well, I dunno'. Not till last night. We, uh- She came over and we ended up havin' a drink and we talked and then-" This was the part Daryl was dreading. He pondered as to how his friend might react. "We kissed," his voice trailed off.

"Oh my gosh, Daryl, that is so exciting!" she exclaimed, cheerfully and proudly, as though she were a mother at her child's graduation.

"Lay it off,"

"Alright fine. But really, I am happy for you. So what's the problem?"

"Well, y'know, she was drunk, and so was I. I dun' think she's gonna remember. Dun' think she wanted it at all,"

"Daryl, don't be silly. Of course, she wanted it. Girls don't go 'round kissing anyone they see, even where they're shitfaced drunk. Not smart girls like Y/N," she reassured him, hoping that it was enough to actually make him do something about the situation.

"So wha' do I do?" he drawled.

"I say, talk to her about it. Find out if she remembers or not, and tell her what happened either way. And tell her how you feel." she spoke, optimistically.

"What if she dun' like me back?"

"What's the worst that can happen? A few awkward check-ups next time you visit the infirmary? Besides, I've got a good feeling that she really likes you. She may have slipped something to me a couple weeks ago about a little crush she had on a certain archer,"

"Huh? What else she say?" Daryl sounded confused and surprised.

"That is not information that I am allowed to disclose." she paused a moment. "Daryl likes a girl! This is finally happening!"

"Shut up," he began, with the slightest of chuckles. "It's not... completely unheard of..."

She hummed for a second in consideration. "Yes it is." she said matter-of-factly. Pointing to the house that was the designated hospital, she spoke up once more in excitement, "See look! There's your chance, just go inside and talk to her. I promise things will go well,"

"Alright'," Daryl braced himself to enter the infirmary, working up enough courage just to step inside a place that seemed... so full of you. In a good way. "Tell me how it goes!" he heard a high voice exclaim from outside just as he shut the door behind him.

The place was empty. He paced around, silent on his feet as a result of years of hunting and tracking practice. This meant, however, that when he stepped into a room with you sat behind a desk engrossed in what seemed to be stacks of medical reports, you were very startled when you looked up to see Daryl standing in front of you. If you had taken more notice, you would have seen that he, too, was a little startled.

"Hey, what's up?" you spoke cheerfully, despite Daryl seeming a bit on edge. It took him a moment to respond.

"Can I talk to ye' for a minute?" You can't say you didn't miss that sweet Southern drawl of his.

"Yeah, sure, what's this about?" You stood up and made your way around the desk to stand in front of the leather jacket-clad man. Despite your efforts, this only made him more nervous.

"Listen, uhh- last night-" began before you interrupted, and a part of him was thankful that you did.

"Shit, did something happen?" you brought a palm up to your forehead looking a little embarrassed. You racked your brain again for any trace of a memory, but, nothing. "I know I was with you, and I know I woke up really hungover this morning. I hope I didn't embarrass myself, I'm sorry, I can't remember anything,"

"Nah, nah, it ain't like that. 'M sorry. We were talkin' an', both of us were shitfaced drunk. You uhh- you told me ta' kiss you an'- and we did,"

Your face was contorting in an unreadable expression, but you weren't saying anything. You didn't seem that... surprised? But you weren't shocked or confused either. For a moment it looked like you were in deep thought.

"I'm sorry, I was drunk, I really didn't mean to make you uncomfortable or annoyed or anything..."

"No, I didn't mean it that way at all- I mean... I ain't annoyed, I just... wanted ta' know if it meant sumthin'," his voice trailed off and he looked around the room, attempting to distract himself from staring too deeply into your gorgeous eyes.

"Daryl... that's actually really sweet. None of the guys I've ever made out with at parties have ever come back to talk to me, they just wanted to get into my pants," you were smiling. Daryl fidgeted at the idea of getting into your pants. "I mean, if you're sure it happened, then it definitely meant something. I don't just go around kissing anyone, especially not in- well, the apocalypse. I really trust you Daryl, you're the bravest guy I know. Also, I uhh... I think you're really hot." you tried to avert your gaze, but his stormy blue eyes were magnetic. You stared up at the man, smiling, waiting for a reply and silently praying that he shared your feelings.

Instead of a spoken response, he lifted his right hand and ghosted it across your jawline. The two of you smirked simultaneously and closed the distance between you. Finally, you could enjoy the taste and scent of the man without kissing him to fulfill an intoxicated impulse. Your mouths fit perfectly together like a jigsaw puzzle, and melted into one another. Daryl tasted like pinewood and delicious cigarette smoke, and you - candy apples and honey.

You pulled away - only slightly - and rested your forehead against his. Staring down at your feet, you tried to think of something, anything to say that made this situation any less strange. "Oh, um- how are the stitches?" you said, and then giggled at the futility of your question.

"They're fine. Already forgot 'bout 'em." You couldn't help yourself, his voice only driving you on further. You leaned in again, sweetly pecking him on the lips before your next suggestion,

"Do you maybe wanna stay here? Keep me company? I mean, just in case you've got nothing else going on today. Gets a little lonely in here."

"That'd be perfect."

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