#Th height difference
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Sir Tim Laurence and Princess Anne speak with members of Commonwealth War Graves Commission at the Bayeux War Cemetery
#GOAT COUPLE PRINCESS ROYAL AND VICE ADMIRAL SIR TIMOTHY LAURENCE#Mr & Mrs Timothy Laurence#The heartbeat of the British Royal family#Busy Bee 🐝 Princess Royal and Vice Admiral Sir Timothy Laurence#Boss Lady HRH Princess Royal and Vice Admiral Sir Timothy Laurence#Princess Anne#Princess Royal#Technological integrated man servant#Tim's always supporting his wife#Tim Laurence#Timothy Laurence#British Royal family#France 2024#Th height difference
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constantly thinking of this man ; ;
(Jewel belongs to @skelekins)
bonus:
#Jewel has been my number 1 guy for a bit#he's so sweet n soft n i lov himb#my boyfrieng#me n Kins hav been talking abt him n my sona so much#my sona's design is a lil different for his au#jewel papyrus#swapfell facet#monstersona#undertale#undertale au#didderd art#i keep drawing/imagining my sona a lil shorter than him#but they'r th same height lmao
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Height Difference
#clone high#joanpher#ch joan of arc#topher bus#ship dynamics#height difference#wheb the the girl taller than th guy 🥰🥰😍😍💯💯❣️❣️🛐🛐❤️🔥❤️🔥 x3
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AH I FORGOT TO SHARE THIS. yk when i said i was doodling beasts in class well Yeah this is exactly what i have been making ^_^ only made this sketch though cuz i immediately lost focus. Smth smth outting amor next to wolfe raise quite some Implications. as well as putting amor next to cocoa because Well Uhm Haha You See It's Clampicated ^_^. [vaguely motions at the whole thing between cocoa and holly] Yeahg It's That. (SORRY THE QUALITY IS ASS IT'S HARD TO TAKE PICS WITH THIS LIGHTING)
!!!!! OHHH!! OUGHGG TWO OF THEMMMM grisping and shaking with INTENT... oh woah look at these silly lil thangs im sure nothing is ^_^ potentially wrong with them at all whatsoever look at them theyre so sillayyyy yaaaay!!
#TH HEIGHT DIFFERENCE IS STILL KILLING ME SORRY SHJFVBDGH#these two 🤝: 'Uh Oh Gamers!'#piktalk#pikocs#BUT FOR EEL tossing them around like a ball of yarn.. theres Something. Something About Them. grisps.#I FEEL TH LINE T BE DRAWN but im not confident enough in my knowledge of their deals to be able to say anything concrete#but ican feel it in my soul. something. the impies. mods the impies....#what im saying is stares intently over in their direction stares stares staring. staring.. consider this enabling. if ever u want to. stare
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dewprim cuties !!
(via prim’s instagram)
#dewprim#prim chanikarn#dew jirawat#a love so beautiful th#a love so beautiful thailand#gmmtv actors#*#my DARLINGS!!!!!!!!!!!!#is anyone else watching this show </3 or planning to at any point#i love u insane height difference couple
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how tall do y'all think s!3v3n is. It's for science
#science <- wondering about the height difference for. The. Th. The ship#yomiel speaks#I still need a name for these two ASDLPKHGJMUCDFBHN kill me pl
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What flower are you?
Tulip .
People have always felt free to speculate about you, but it’s never changed who you are. You’ve got your faith, your love, your pretty face: so, hold your crowned head high. The world may know your name, but they hardly know your heart. Your truth is yours and that’s enough for you.
Bleeding Heart .
Romantic with a flair for the dramatic, you prefer a life in the shade. Content to grow beneath the shadows of others success, you find your joys in the small things: a broken heart, a drop of blood, a little poison in your cup. You know there’s always some bitter with the sweet, some sadness with joy, and you revel in it.
tagged by @foolshoujo tysm!!!
#TAGMEME.#STEAL IF U WANT#awwww i wuv tulips....... daiiiiiii kisses his big ole head#(he turns into dark n th height difference knocks me out instantly)
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This is my girlfriend :3
#i'm gonna lose my mind#you seeing this? Jesus Christ. i#i think.#i thiiinnkkkk....#maybe I'll spam some tags so i can go into detail about some things that i like and . think about.#yeah. that sounds like a great idea. that way anyone who's just scrolling by won't get blasted with my fuckin gay thoughts first thing#:3 and to the goobers who actually read all my crazy man tags#why? just curious. i uh. i don't know why you do. i appreciate you supporting me and my current (and let's be real. permanent) obsession#but why? anyways. different train if thought now. him.#did you know he's 6'0? that's decent height (he's a whole foot taller than me)#he's . pretty.#and handsome#and uh. um. cute and stuff.#<.< >.> is anyone looking? no? okay cool so. HELLO AGKSJXHDVBSJDHKSVSNDHK#FSJSVSJGDJDGFSVBDJGGGRRRRRRARFARFARFARFARFBARKBARKBARK#AH#gorgeous man!!!!#th the look on his face in the gif has me twirling my fuckin hair and kicking my feet#such a dad look. god. i am weak... so so weak. i have one (1) inappropriate thought to say.#...but I'm shy. BUT ALSO I KNOW MY DORK FRIENDS ARE GONNA TEASE ME ABOUT IT#AH FUCK. no WINNING. I jjust gotta say it. shit okay okay. gotta psych myself up and just say it#i. i think uh... um. (>\\\\\\<) i think maybe he likes holding hands during sex. big on the small gestures even during such intimate moments#there! that. counts . right? i dont think i have the guts to say anything else right now.#god i am such a loser for this guy _| ̄|○#forgive me and all my embarrassed ramblings. i am but a simple dumbass with a crush. it can't be helped#okay. i uh. i think thats all for the rambling tonight. (-\\\\\\-)#thanks and sorry if you made it this far. also holy shit. i promise im not some blushing virgin. i have experience#I'm just an idiot. thats all#okay goodniiight#ily . predictive text wanted me to say ily maggot. sorry about that. it's faggot but ya know
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Indirect Kiss
#listen I didn’t mean to find that th smutfic it found me but I stg I don’t read smut but maybe this is what’s influencing this out of#pocket ass post#TamaHaru#how many times have they kissed including this one? 6 times Idek#also the height difference goes crazy and makes their smut so crazy to imagine#like what’s going on where do they fit lmaoooooo#not even height difference it’s the body difference and it’d be even crazier with Mori#tallest man in the club before Tama
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If no one else is gonna do it here's my defense of Platonic/ Friends Link and Sidon and especially the vow scene,
For starters there's the obvious, Sidon is tall as hell and likely both wanted and possibly felt it'd be more appropriate to get down closer to Link's height because their friends, he respects and him and idk could argue in away it puts them as equals.
I can't say for certain but I also feel like Sidon did the same thing in Botw at one point when talking with Link (but not entirely sure on that one)
It could be a cultural thing, especially in terms of a promise, vow being given to another from someone of the royal family.
Compared to all the others it just fits who Sidon is and his character,
Tulin is only a kid, excited to be able to share/give his power to Link to help in the fight so it would feel weird to see him do something as formal as to kneel before Link- outside of like if it was some actual formal ceremony where he was instructed to do so.
Yunobo sure still has the height thing much like Sidon but again Gorons as a whole don't really give the vibe of someone who'd go as far as kneeling and I think might be out of place if he suddenly did it.
Riju is the only one I could maybe see getting away with such an act without it feeling to weird, as she is Queen, and had she been taller perhaps she even would have lowered her self a bit but she's not.
Riju is pretty close to Link's height, so it would be weird to kneel dropping her in a position quite literally beneath Link. When really these vows are ones of comradery, she nor any of the others aren't serving Link but giving a promise of lending their power to aid and fight along side him.
#this isn't to hate on your ship or say anyone is wrong for viewing th scene as such#you do you go off I can't say I haven't done the same#but I do think there's something interesting to be seen looking at how each character does their vows differently#totk#pretty sure the main reason is just that he's super tall and it's easier to drop himself down to Link's height
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small things like these.
pairing. clark kent x male reader.
word count. 12.2k.
summary. a moment like having a cup of overly-sweet, sugary coffee spill all over you was one of the reasons why you'd been charmed by a clumsy man named clark kent.
content warning. fluff, eventual smut, corenswet!clark, top!clark, bottom!reader, strangers to lovers, brief lois lane mention, yearning!friends, clark has a sweet tooth, kissing, rimming, blowjobs, praising, sweet verbal, size difference, body worship, breeding, sweet and passionate love-making!
a/n. i recommend listening to the normal people soundtrack while reading!
I: MAY.
It all started with a crash.
The smell of gasoline was poisoning. Cars were lined up like dominos, passing gas from one engine to another, and the scent was festering in Clark’s nostrils, its rotting smell seemingly quadrupled by the summer heat. That was the charm of the city. The smell, and the constant scream of car horns as traffic began piling up. In the eyes of his folks, Clark can see his Ma and Pa doubting his sanity had they ever witnessed Metropolis. His Ma would shake her head in disapproval at the size of his apartment, and his Pa would be overstimulated into disbelief as the trio held hands and swam their way through the swarm of people who were simultaneously being chased in pursuit by one reminder:
FASTER! YOU’RE RUNNING LATE!
“Oh, crap—“ Hugging the coffee cup to his chest after switching arms, Clark rolled his sleeve up to check his watch. Quarter to nine. “Crap, crap, crap, crap!” Panic finally set in, charging Clark forward into the sunny abyss of office-workers.
This would be the last time he would grab coffee right before work. He’d paid for the consequences already by nearly missing his morning meeting multiple times. Heavy emphasis on nearly as his shoes would audibly skid from turning from one corner to another upon the race he had against the clock, as the slippery leather of his shoes would nearly make him take a tumble if he hadn’t corrected his footing once he began sprinting to his cubicle, and as he sat down in the uncomfortable seat of his chair, only to rise back up once Mr. White made his entrance, nearly missing roll-call. Out of relief, Clark would take a sip of his Frappuccino. The whipped cream deflated from the race, though its vanilla flavor was unaffected as the foam happily danced on his tongue, mixing deliciously with the sweetened coffee. he would feel himself replenished with energy the more sips he took. “Damn you…” He would gulp, licking the vanilla foam off his lips, repentant in his mutter, “Why do you taste so good? Right when I’m supposed to let you go, you reel me back in…”
Clark was a certified Metropolitan.
“Sorry—I’m sorry—‘Scuse me! Passing through—“
Nearly there. The man was a mountain of muscle, sturdy and well-knit upon first glance, but Clark used his muscles for good, to protect others in situations where they needed him for leverage, not to harm. Upon instinct, he turned a shoulder for a woman to pass through, sparing little contact, then another when a father chased after his kid. It was hectic, his cup of coffee almost losing his grasp in midst of the scuffle, but Clark managed to find a silver lining in the crowd in midst of the clock ticking: the revolving door to the Daily Planet, an entrance Clark has become irrevocably beholden to.
“S-sorry!”
A man yelled out, “Watch it, asshole!” In midst of bumping shoulders.Few met his height. Many would either desire to have his height, or to be in the arms of the man who towered over 6’4. Though, in the morning of Metropolis, most if not all deemed it a nuisance.
Breaking out of the herd of people, Clark felt liberated. His legs moved in larger steps, and his elbows spanned from his sides like how they normally should as he ran into the revolving door and pushed against the partition to turn. He checked his watch again. Three minutes left. “Come on, come on—“ One hand squeezed his cup of coffee, and the other clasped his ID badge. His fingers felt slippery from the condensation of his drink, so he squeezed harder, pacing forward to the elevator, then faster when the elevator opened with only a single patron, you, occupying the space.
Faster.
Clark’s thighs were on fire.
His watch, two minutes.
Faster. Almost there.
Clark let out one last breath as he was nearing, holding it out in preparation to stop the elevator door from closing. A relief of a smile came to spread across his face when it opened to accommodate his charging entrance from a few feet away. Usually, he was met by an expression of irritation by anybody who was occupying the elevator, but you looked bewildered, your eyes opening wide milliseconds later upon realization.
Fear, as your mouth opened to shout, “W-wait! S-slow down!”
It was all in slow motion, watching your face contort to a various of expressions, and then nothing, as Clark clenched the cup of his drink with the force akin to batter hitting a home-run, popping the lid off the cup in process, and spilling the Frappuccino onto the frightened man, with extra vanilla whipped cream and all. All you needed as a cherry on top of your head, and you were ready to be sold as a Monday lunch special.
Maybe his beginner’s luck was running out of flame.
II: MAY.
Luckily, not many people seemed to use the bathroom in the morning. They must’ve gotten it all out of their system before coming to work. You were bent over the sink, wiping your face with god-knows how many paper towels.
“Just my luck…” You grumbled, squinting at your reflection in the mirror as you wiped the corners of your eyes, then your forehead, and then your ears. No matter how many times you’d lave your face with water, you felt sticky, gross, and worst of all, you looked like a mess. You still had your hair and clothes to clean, the smell of vanilla syrup sickening to your nose. The latter was definitely going to require an insane amount of bleach and arm grease to get the coffee stain off.
The door swung open not too long after, and in came the culprit who’d painted your clothes in brown and white, wide-eyed and panicked like he was searching for a lost puppy, then apologetic and defenseless as if he was the puppy that ran away.
“Shoot, I’m so, so, so sorry—“ He brought his hands to his head, pulling at the messy dark curls of his hair. You side-eyed him, responding with nothing but silence, and then a crinkle of the paper towel as you squeezed out the water.
“Save it.” Your tone was pointed, though you didn’t necessarily mean for it to come across as aggressive as it did. It was already a bad start to your day. Your milk expired, you ran out of frozen breakfast food, and the bakery you liked to visit in the mornings temporarily closed for renovations. All forewarnings to this very moment, where you had been cleaning whipped cream out of your hair. You held out another damp paper towel towards the man, and then waved it when he simply stared, or rather embarrassingly gawked at the mess he had created. “Get my neck.”
“Y-yeah… Of course.”
Silence. You weren’t sure how long you two have been at it, but you’ve managed to fill the trash can half-way with the paper towels. In complete, utterly awkward silence. His touch was delicate, the paper towel gently cascading over your neck in small swipes, even though you’d shown him that you were more than capable to pierce through him with your glare alone. Laser beams would ricochet off your reflection, bounce off the tiled walls of the bathroom, and somehow strike him through the heart and tear that oversized vest right off of his large frame.
The anger only settled when the man repeated his nth apology, moving onto wipe your hair clean. You closed your eyes to calm yourself, breathing out a deep sigh, because it was a mistake. You were having a bad start to your day, and… so was he? Wouldn’t be a surprise. Mondays were notorious in fucking up the week.
“It’s… fine. Not like you meant to do that.” You looked at him through the reflection, his brows scrunched from hyper-fixating on every lock of hair that was blessed with his whipped cream. Was he always this handsome? And why is he towering over you? Why is he so close?
“Who gets a Frappe in the morning though?”
“I—Black coffee doesn’t really help me stay awake.” A nervous laughter now that you were making conversation with him. It was the complete opposite of how he physically looked. A sheep in wolf’s clothing. “Nor does it taste that good.” He muttered, cleaning the last lock of your hair.
“I would tell you to watch your sugar, but I’m guessing… you got that down?” You didn’t mean to make a comment on his broad body, but the difference in stature was laughable. “(M/N). You?”
“I-Uh, Clark. Clark Kent.” He washed his hands in the sink next to you, lips opening to what you could presume to be another apology. You’ve only met him for fifteen minutes, but you were beginning to catch his habits.
“Okay, Clark.” You stepped forward, crossing your arms, and you could feel the rattle of his gaze as he glanced at you from the reflection. “I work downstairs, at the gift shop. You can apologize by bringing me lunch for a month straight.”
“Wait—A month?! T-that’s kind of expensive, don’t you think—“
“Hey, you can make it yourself. Get it from the supermarket. Scraps from a restaurant’s garage bin nearby. I don’t really care.” You leaned against the counter, stifling a smile as Clark looked rather charming flustered like this. “If you were really sorry, you’d be committed to making up for it nonetheless.”
“That’s a little extreme for someone you don’t know…?”
You shrugged, then turned on your heel. “Spilling a drink on someone isn’t exactly an ideal way to introduce yourself, you know.” Dusting your fingers of water droplets, you began your exit. “Also, I need a new shirt.”
“W-wait—“
“See ya, Mark!”
“It’s Clark!”
Maybe his luck was just beginning.
III: JULY.
“So…? Ready to guess?” The smile on Clark’s face was filled with anticipation. He watched you chew the contents in your mouth in an obnoxiously poised manner, an inside joke between the two of you as you two had been binging on cooking competition shows. You tilted your head in thought like the pretentious judge on one of those shows, pausing mid-chew like something strange had collided with your tastebuds, then continued as if it had faded away. “Come on, I’m dying here.”
You swallowed, taking a sip of water to wash down the bread. “Hey, I need more than a bite to figure the ingredients out!”
“(M/N), you’ve practically eaten half of the sandwich already.” Clark took his half of the sandwich and sank his teeth into the pillowy bread.
“Look who’s talking.” You rolled a piece of white bread in between your thumb and index finger until it formed a ball, and playfully threw it at Clark’s shoulder. “I didn’t get to eat dinner last night.”
It was a strange feeling in Clark when you said that. His chest swelled a little, as if his heart kicked it from within. “Why’s that?” He slowed his chewing to clear his ears, putting aside his tastebuds for his attention.
“Well, they’re expanding the gift shop, so they’re asking me to work longer hours to help out. No one else said yes, and I need the money, so there was no question about it, you know?” He watched you dust off your fingers on a napkin. He knew of your habits now. Take a sip of your water, which you did, then fully settle your arms onto the table, unabashedly gazing into his eyes to give your tastebuds a break. His eyes altered to the tip of your tongue, peeking out to lick a crumb off your lip, and Clark mirrored onto himself.
It was a secret vaulted in the deep abyss of Clark’s stomach - well, not so much considering Jimmy liked to run his mouth - but your eyes were his favorite parts about you. Even when they were seemingly set aflame on the day he’d met you, your orbs have since had a way to reel him in like bait and never seemed to have let go. He would find himself free-falling into what soon felt closer to home with every second that would pass by.
“Doesn’t mean you have to skip dinner, though.”
There was a breeze. Gentle and swaying like the jazz music playing in the balcony of the café. It sifted through your hair like sugar would through fine mesh. One got caught on a few strands—wind— and it blew back to recognize your features with the sun, beaming on features that Clark would someday have the courage to say he adored.
“Why? You thinking about bringing me dinner too?” He doesn’t like that you tease him so effortlessly. Clark also doesn’t like how easily flustered he gets, which prompts the cycle of teasing to begin with.
With hesitation, he tried it himself once, saying something about how you looked good enough to eat or something when you styled your hair back for a change. Though, what came out was something along the lines of: “You look like you eat good enough,” and Clark would rather forget that interaction even happening.
“Haven’t stopped bringing you lunch, if you think about it.” The memory of his first meeting with you brought a smile to his lips, and yours as well, because you two tend to sync thoughts.
“Yeah, two months now… When’s that going to stop?”
“It’s a routine now. I don’t think I can find it in me to suddenly stop feeding you.”
“Hm, you’d make a good boyfriend, Clark.”
“Yeah…”
IV: AUGUST.
“Nervous?”
The powdery top note of your hairspray tickled your senses. You counted in your head, holding back a layer of Clark’s hair in your palm. One, two, three, four… Once you reached thirty, you released, sealing the pushed back fringe in place with another layer of the grooming product.
“How can you tell? Do I look nervous?!” He’d been chewing on his lip, playing with his fingers, moving in his seat. It was like a toddler, but unlike a toddler, Clark was an adult. An adult who had enough awareness to refrain from making any sudden movements while someone had a scalding hot styling iron in their hand.
“Clark, you haven’t stopped shaking your leg since you sat down—“ You delicately pulled a curly strand to the front of his forehead, and it was another reminder how easily Clark could pursue a career in Hollywood. If only journalism hadn’t been such a strong passion for him. Though, with the way his nerves had been electrifying his body—maybe he made the right call in the end.
“Oh—Sorry… I’m just—I don’t know. What if I mess up? I say the wrong thing to Lois, and then she hates me forever? Then what? She tells the entire office about what a terrible—”
“Whoa, I think you’re thinking way too far ahead here. What happened to you being Mister Optimistic all the time?” You ushered him to get up from the seat, and then handed Clark his dress shirt and tie. “Besides, I don’t think Lois would do that. If you like her, that must mean she has some type of soul.”
“I guess so.” Clark muttered, changing into his shirt. Perfectly tailored to his body contrary to the oversized button-downs he was used to wearing. “You wanna hang out after?”
“Uh… you sure you’re going to be free? And not… you know,” Your brows raised, giving Clark a knowing look, and it was that flush of skin that you secretly adored coming in hot, boiling on the apples of his cheeks as Clark quickly deciphered what you meant.
“I don’t sleep with people on the first date, (M/N).” It was priceless. The horror on Clark’s face upon the accusation, his orbs retracting like he’d seen a spaceship landing on earth for the first time. You couldn’t help but laugh out loud at his confession while tidying up his living room.
“I know a lot of people do! I just had to make sure.” You waited on the couch as Clark changed, replying to missed messages, scrolling through updates on multiple social media accounts, until you heard Clark approach from behind.
“Ahem,” He cleared his throat, announcing his presence, and you turned upon the sound. “Looks okay?”
It was Clark.
It was Clark, but a more refined version of him. Not that he was sloppy in the first place, but simply… you could see him clearer, his own confidence radiating like it had finally discovered an escape to its freedom. His eyes, clear blues that sparkled even when the approaching night began casting shadows through his blinds and onto his glasses. It helped that you styled his hair back too, framing his face for the whole world to admire, and most importantly, for his date to as well. You reminded him to stand tall, and he took that into consideration through his posture straightening, and his chin raising.
“Y-yeah, you look… great.” It was infectious. His smile while he admired himself through his mirror. His dimples smiled back at him, and you felt your own lips curling on their own, like you’ve eaten a candy that was too sweet for its own good. “Lois is going to love it.”
Cavity-inducing.
“Yeah? Oh—I have to pick her up soon. So, you’ll be here, right?! I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep if it goes well—“ Clark let out one last breath, then a shake of his arms, and he found his nerves rattling up again despite as he approached the door.
Ten steps closer than before to Lois.
“It’ll go well, I promise!” It was his moment. Clark’s moment. Yet, you felt weird about it. You wanted to look at him for longer, a sudden greed to keep him in his apartment for longer.
“All right… wish me luck.” He turned to look back at you, appreciative in his smile, but his eyes looked guilty, meaningfully longing akin to the way he had looked when he spilled his drink on you.
That’s right.
“Good luck.” Apologetic, you remembered when he finally exited the room, and closed it shut.
Clark gave you cavities.
And like all cavities, you needed to get rid of them.
You needed to get rid of Clark.
V: DECEMBER.
It was partially his fault, wasn’t it?
There was no doubt in mind that you and Clark have been spending less time together. Clark was never a big texter, but he found himself messaging you a lot more often to make up for the fact that he had rarely seen you the past few weeks. Lunch was spent with Lois, dinner was with Lois, drinks were with Lois, binge-watching TV… with Lois.
“You’re always talking about Lois…”
It was why he preferred meeting up, because you never answered your phone, especially these days. If he was lucky, you’d spare him more than four messages a day before saying goodnight.
You never liked saying goodnight, and neither did Clark. By preference, Clark liked to fall asleep on the phone with you where he would catch your snores, and the embarrassment of it all would keep you awake for a little longer, at least until it was Clark’s turn to retiring for the night. It felt safe, knowing that he wasn’t - to some extent - alone in his bed. That he could mumble your name in his sleep, and you’d toss in bed, his voice ricocheting off into your own dreams.
It felt intimate.
“Hey, give me a call whenever you get back. Lois and I found this really cool aquarium you’d really like! I got a turtle keychain for you too.”
“(M/N)? Hey, I totally forgot about dinner last night! Work’s gotten so busy, and then Lois wanted to go out, and my parents were calling, so—Let me make it up to you? We can go to that diner you’ve been talking about.”
“Hey, (M/N)! Didn’t see you at the shop today… Doing okay? Not sure if you got the sandwich I left for you on the counter. Or maybe someone had stolen it. But text me? Let me know?”
“It’s Clark. Why am I telling you—I saw you the other day, but… you seemed like you were in a rush? I’m guessing renovation is taking a toll on you? Give me a call…”
“Hey, uh… Listen, If I did something… Will you let me know, please? I-I don’t know. I don’t know what’s happening here, between us, but… I just. I miss—”
Clark didn’t want to seem obsessive. Absolutely not.
But this was getting out-of-hand. He was panicking. He’d been panicking for the past few weeks since this whole charade had started. It was only right for him to worry like this, about his best friend. To go from aligning his lunch breaks with yours to sitting stone-faced at his cubicle with a half-eaten sandwich in his Tupperware was a huge disruption to his routine. It was like the world had turned against him in solidarity. Knowing his own mind, Clark deserved it.
There had been a farrago of missteps, too many of them to count, for Clark to simply shrug it off and see the silver lining through them for the next day, for the next week, or for the next month. It wasn’t like before he’d met you, where he would simply get caught in a long line of office workers waiting for their coffee, and then received a free pastry because they had messed up his order twice. Or how he would sleep through his alarms, where his body clock fortunately alerted him awake before traffic would begin to dominate the streets.
No, this was different.
He’d earned a raise since then, for his great work on profiling the Superman, but it was all he did now. When it wasn’t Superman, it was being Superman, and Clark wished there was someone to talk to. To celebrate with, now that he can splurge a bit more on himself. To vent towards, about how it was obvious that he’d been holding Lois back since their relationship started. To shout with while he watched a movie because the killer had been in the main character’s house all along. To lament towards, because Lois had called it quits, yet in spite of that, it wasn’t as painful as the way you had been treating him. To scream out the month’s omen with, because maintaining this double-life of his was wearing him down.
Moments of happiness, catapulting his memories of you with laughter and warmth, had felt like a wound. A piece of him was broken. He felt hollowed out - a pineapple without its core - more so than ever, losing you as quickly as he had became friends with you, as quickly as he had fallen for you. Spineless, if he just watched you slip out his fingers and float away.
He needed to bring you back. He needed to tie you around his wrist like a balloon, like how his Ma and Pa would when they took him to the fair as a kid. At least if you float away again, he’d chase after you like he should’ve the first time.
If luck was on his side, you’d let him hold your hand and cruise the winter sky together. And if a miracle was in the palms of Clark Kent, he’d reckon voyaging the four seasons as one would turn over a new leaf.
VI: DECEMBER.
The air was frigid. The glass pane of your window shivered against the cold, frost webbing your reflection from corner to corner as you peered out into the city. Noses red and cheeks flushed, symptoms of the freezing cold as they endured the walk home. Careful steps across the sidewalk, into the street, as flakes of white fell to the earth.
For an alien, it would summon silence. Those sparkling crests that would melt upon contact—an invasion they would yell in terror as the flakes seeped into their skin like acid. But for humans, people like you, it brought laughter. Giggles pierced the air, couples holding each other close to gather heat, but to also keep each other from slipping, and the world had only felt warmer despite the snow’s best efforts.
Your smile reflected off the joy radiating off of multiple passersby. Kids with their guardians. Dogs with their owners. Parents with their own parents. The holiday was nearing, spirits ramping in midst. As the streets emptied, leaving you in nothing but the cruel howl of the wind, you couldn’t bring yourself to caring about your favorite celebration. There was little need for your participation if you didn’t have anyone to spend it with.
To be completely honest, it was your fault.
Clark was happy. He was happy to have someone who shared the same interest in him. He was happy that Lois could bring the best out of him, either out of his work or out of his personal ambitions. Lois would make Clark the man his parents would be proud to see after silently agonizing over months on whether the city would be good for him. He was happy to share this new chapter in his life with you, and you had little patience to see him blossom.
You couldn’t bear it, knowing that it could’ve been you.
God, you were being childish. This felt like high school all over again, except… not really considering you weren’t out in high school. You’ve watched enough coming-of-age films to know that the audience would’ve deemed you immature. Worst of all, you would’ve vented to Clark about how foolish the main character was being.
Your romantic experience had been limited to silently crushing on guys in your classes to hooking up with strangers through an app. Maybe that explained why you were acting out. Why you preferred isolating yourself from the root of your happiness instead of surrounding yourself with it. When was the last time you were ever in love? With the family dog? With her puppies? No, actually in love… with a person, with a man.
“Fuck.” The ice cream in your mouth suddenly stung the back of your jaw the longer the spoon sat in your mouth. You’ve been looping Clark’s voice messages, debating on whether it was too late to reconcile, whether he was too upset at you to even want to have you step a foot inside of his apartment.
“I miss you. I really miss you.”
You winced, groaning in discomfort, tensing your jaw as the voice message looped like some kind of hypnotic spell. “I miss you. I really miss you. Miss you. Miss. You. (M/N). I miss you.”
The sweetness bulldozed your molars. It was unbearable. You tended to your cheek, holding onto it as you hastily slipped on your coat and beanie.
Throbbing. Your gums.
Your hand yanked the door open, and you marched outside, into the blanket of snow.
Beating. Your heart.
The cavity was returning, and you needed Clark’s help.
VII: DECEMBER.
Clark had mixed feelings seeing you at his doorstep.
This was not how it was supposed to go. He was the one that was supposed to be drenched from the snow. Shivering like an unkempt toy, with severed electrical currents making him twitch at the modest breeze, at the welcoming warmth. He peered down at you, where you met his gaze. Clark registered a broken and a contrite heart, and he could only respond in complete silence. Frozen in place because the visit was unexpected, but also because you made his heart swell to the point of nearing combustion, and it took all his might to control himself from pulling you into a hug.
“Hi.” You sniffed, wiping your runny nose. There was a stark contrast between your body temperature and Clark’s, he could feel the frost biting his own skin.
“Hi…” Clark took a step closer, but he couldn’t cross the distance between you and him, halting as if there was an ice barrier. No, control yourself, Clark. “I—Come in.”
A wet layer of skin; narrow hills from your eye bags, past the apple of your cheeks, and down to your chin. Crystals would form along your tears if you hadn’t insistent on wiping them clean. You never liked being vulnerable with him. With anyone, for that matter.
Clark stepped aside to welcome you in. You passed one glance at him, hesitant and apprehensive, but the warmth reeled you in, one shoe at a time. He was so close to you. Your arm nearly brushed against his, close enough as if it had almost nudged his elbow.
“You’re freezing—I-I’ll make some coffee.” He headed towards his kitchen, then paused to glance back at you, resembling the skittish reporter you first met as his indecisiveness staggered his following steps. “No, Tea? Hot water? I don’t know—“
“Clark, that can wait… Uh, how about we talk… first?” Clark could see it. He could see how you felt like a stranger in his apartment, a place he’d nearly asked you to move in as his roommate considering you spent so much time here.
You carefully took off your coat, and Clark immediately went to your aide to gather it into his arms and put it on the coat rock. Though, not before letting the smell of your cologne linger in his nose, because god, he missed this.
“Yeah, yeah. Let’s… talk.” He gestured towards his couch, tidying up the sweater that was beginning to feel constricting on his body.
Other than a tiny Christmas tree hiding in the corner of his living room, not much had changed. Everything was right where you’d last seen it, including a polaroid Clark took of you and taped to his ‘Wall of Memories.’
Out of instinct, you sat at your side of the couch, and Clark sat to the left, right beside you. Your palms ran over the cotton upholstery, then paused when your finger dipped into a ripped hole you had accidentally created when you two were watching a horror film.
“So… how are you?” Clark was staring. He didn’t mean to, but seeing you beside him felt… unreal. Maybe he was dreaming. The space next to your hand looked inviting, so his own hand naturally found its place, laying it there with his pinky finger barely grazing yours. You’re real. His pinky twitched when your finger brushed against the tip, and you pulled away. No, no. Come back.
“I’m good, well—long story, but…” You sighed, and Clark was patient as you took a moment to gather your thoughts. It was unlike you. Not that it was bad, but it was extremely attractive how outspoken you could be, especially regarding subjects you were passionate about. It was like you rode the ocean waves, swam with large strokes because you had a goal in mind, to convince Clark that mint chocolate chip was the best flavor of ice cream and whatnot.
“Before we catch up, I’m sorry… I don’t really know what I was doing, but it was my fault. I’m childish, I know that. I pushed you away because I was jealous… of Lois. And—please don’t hate me, but I hated how you looked at her. And how she looked at you.“ You breathed, your eyes casted downward like you were ashamed of being capable of human emotions. Then they clenched, because you heard how incredibly thoughtless you were being, yet that didn’t stop the tears from forming.
“And I was supposed to be happy for you, Clark. I mean, I knew I didn’t have a chance to be with you, but I somehow convinced myself that one day, you’d look at me with the same amount of affection you’d look at Lois. I would wait, and wait, and it was getting… painful. I mean, who am I kidding? I should’ve let you adjust first before growing impatient, but it felt like I was being replaced, and I was afraid of the inevitable, Clark—“
Now, you were floating. And out of fear, Clark felt his hand come alive, and spider close to your hand again. Tie him before it’s too late. It was up to Clark to change the trajectory of your descent. The pinkie that had lain next to your own crossed over and locked over yours. The barrier of ice that had been building between the two of you shattered into a million shard and he was frozen. A million of them pierced into Clark’s skin when he took your hand into his, and the clasp of your hand into his had bonded.
“Clark, what—“ Your eyes widened, letting in fragments of Christmas lights to highlight the glossy sheen of the tears welling in your sight.
Without questioning it, Clark pulled you into his chest and felt the crumbled wetness stain his sweater. One by one, his fingers loosened to let go of your hand to support your body with his arms. Strong, thick arms wrapped around your body, fitted snug against you like a vest. There wasn't any resistance from your end, so he held you longer, then tighter in case you’d let go of him.
It had never felt so good holding someone’s weight.
Two hearts pulsed against one another, and then as one as Clark buried his head into your neck in silence, while you rested your cheek against his shoulder. You clutched yearningly at his back, and Clark ran his palm over yours. Completely different motions, yet they told the same story, the same ending.
“I missed you.” In harmony, Clark’s voice mixed with yours. Clark often marveled at it, how often he came into sync with you as a pair. Another, when you mustered up the remaining energy to blindly breathe out a sweet laugh against his neck, and he followed, his soft lips inking your skin with a grin.
He didn’t want the hug to end, but it had to sooner or later. Clark needed to see you, as much as he needed to touch you. Releasing you from his hold, he settled for the middle. Large hands found their way back to the vacancy of your own pair and he leaned his forehead against yours, watching your eyes come back into focus as you gazed upwards, officially sharing his yearning.
“What are we doing, Clark?” It was dangerous. There was a heat to his cheeks that needed to connect with the one festering on your own. A dryness to your lips that needed a fresh paint of balm. Clark silently leaned closer, yet your gaze steadied, like you were silently anticipating something. “Lois…”
“We’re not together anymore.” He revealed once to his parents, and that was that. It was a strange feeling bringing up his relationship with Lois again, considering they’d both healed from it and moved on as friends. It was better that way, felt better too.
Your lips parted for another question, but Clark was quick to answer. “November...”
“I’m sorry—“ Undeniably, Clark’s patience had run its course. He didn’t spare a single second for you to catch your breath. Instead, letting gravity pull the weight of his head until his nose pressed against yours. Multiple forewarning bumps to your septum that made you crease your nostrils, a charming expression he’d later marvel over.
Clark allowed himself to sink further into you, applying all of his weight to push you back into the cushions of his couch to then finally capture your lips for one yearning kiss. It was cathartic. He’d wanted this for months. His mouth on yours, his hand into yours, and now that it was finally occurring, Clark wanted to savor the moment. Your body was reacting prosperously, opening your legs to close the distance between Clark’s body and yours. You wrapped them around his hips, condensing him groin to groin. Gentle tremors rattled down Clark’s spine as he pressed into you, mouth and hip, stirring wondrous feelings that ignited from the bonded bodies. First with the utmost uncertainty, then with a starry vehemence upon catching your delightful little sounds in his lips, in his mouth, on his tongue. He swallowed, releasing your hands to tuck his left beneath your head. A cushion, or a reminder to him, as his thumb carefully caressed your cheek, that this was real, that this was happening. You gasped, occupying your free hands around his neck because you felt yourself slipping. Whether it was off the couch, or from your original state of delusion, Clark was going to catch you no matter what.
“I love you.” Scratch that, he was never going to let you go. Not this time. You had no doubts about that as he repeated those three words into your mouth like you needed convincing, then kissed you again to lock his stubborn pleas in place. His glasses bumped against your face, but the feeling of his mouth on yours felt too good for you to complain.
A breather, you pulled away soon because Clark was stealing your oxygen, and you needed to tell him before you would embarrassingly faint from overdosing on the simplicity of his kisses. You took one look at him, gently pushing his head back before your hands had taken his cheeks hostage and cupped them, analyzing what made you fall for him in the first place. Thick dark curls that fell gently over his forehead. Clark’s eyes fluttered shut when your fingers ran through them, the pressure of his scalp gratifying like a long stretch in the morning. Wide frames that were too big for Clark’s face, but had he gone any smaller, they would’ve completely hid the beautiful blues of his eyes. You straightened the crook of his glasses, grinning because the bewildered look on his face resembled a puppy’s. His physical appearance made your heart skip more than a couple of beats, yes, but it wasn’t the main attribution to your attraction.
Your hand trailed from his neck, to his chest, then to his heart. Boiling, his heart was pulsating rapidly like yours, and you sighed.
Because it was here. This was why you fell in love with him.
“I love you.”
His heart was making popcorn, and the scorching heat was rising to Clark’s cheeks. “Thank, god.”
Clark pressed one kiss to each of your palm before leaning back into you, and continuing where he left off. Your laughter was eaten up by his mouth. Suddenly ticklish as Clark catapulted your lips with an uncontrollable laughter of his own. His body shook with yours, heart pounding at one’s chest to bond with the other as he held you close once again.
Nothing was funny. Just simply relieving.
Now tighter, drawing you into his arms when the collective laughter was enough for the couch to move a nudge and roll your intertwined bodies onto his floor. Clark could laugh all night long with you, something that could pull a world record if there was someone to verify the interaction, but something began aching inside of him when he was reminded of your hips against his, groins rubbing in simultaneous pleasure. He maintained his position on top of you, in between your legs, and seized the opportunity to press against you. When your laughter was interrupted with a stifled whimper, without a doubt, Clark was a goner.
“Can… I?” He leaned up, his curious palms on your inner thighs kept you spread on the floor. You watched inquisitively, anticipating, hardly masking it with a low-effort grin.
“Can you… what? Not sure what you’re asking, Clark.” Your elbows supported your body, leaning onto them as Clark bit his lips at your obvious teasing. You wiggled your hips while his hands did their best to avoid touching you there, anywhere but there, until you gave him permission. Chewing, because he was trying his best to control himself upon seeing your crotch twitch with agony.
“Come on…” His palms roamed the back of your thighs, then towards the front again, because he needed to occupy the anticipation of his sweaty hands. “Don’t make me say it.”
“I’m not a reporter like you, Clark. Unfortunately, I was never good at deciphering clues or hints. You pulled him down by the collar of his vest, wrapping your legs back around his hips because you loved making him flustered. “Give it to me straight.”
“I—“ Clark surrendered at the touch of your lips on his. Gentle and sweeping, you kissed him like fall of snow, and he melted, whispering into your mouth, “I… want to make love to you.”
His voice registered sweet, in both mind and body. Your tastebuds bloomed when he kissed you again and slipped a tongue in without much warning. Your pants felt tighter as Clark began his antics again and ground himself against you, eagerly rubbing his larger bulge over your own. Clark was a growing cavity, festering right down to the root, but it was no longer painful.
It was indisputably pleasure.
“I’m all yours.”
There was something hidden in Clark’s gaze, something that his glasses had been unfairly shielding from you. You reached up to put aside his glasses and felt your breath hike when the quick glimpse of his gaze matched the avidity of his mark to your neck.
He refused to part from you. Even with the eagerness of stripping you, he needed to be in close proximity. Knit vests off, Clark returned to mark at your neck. Sweaters tossed, he quickly studied your figure and where you were most sensitive with his tongue and palms Wet and warm, you whimpered. Pants kicked, he helped you out of them while he clumsily stumbled out of his. Slow down, you’d laugh with him, and Clark would find his balance with a hug from you before he could embarrassingly take a tumble. A trail of clothing led to his bedroom, where you laid on the bed while Clark sat on his knees, decorating your entire body with the tiniest, yet wettest kisses. He palmed himself to this, squeezing his erection to the restricted pulsation of your own. Every time he ran a marathon of licks up your leg, your briefs twitched. Clark neared closer to your thighs, then inner thighs, every lap, and the twitching doubled.
“Clark…” It accidentally came out as a whine, and you were grateful that it did because you’d been keeping an eye on his clothed erection, watching it unfurl from a stuffy mass to an intimidating thick shaft where it began outgrowing his original side tuck and throb against his left thigh. It would be more than a handful, two if you were being pessimistic.
“Baby, be patient… I missed you.” The pet name came out of nowhere. They didn’t have nicknames for each other, but Clark felt good calling you that, and seeing how your cock began pulsating rapidly at the sound of his voice, he’d reckon it felt just as good hearing it for the first time.
After teasing you with multiple sequences of nearly kissing your bulge, Clark finally caved in and pressed his mouth to where the tip of your erection was hidden. Its location marked with a tantalizing wet spot that made him moan when he could taste your salty leakage through your briefs. Mouthing it, licking it, you watched Clark with an open-mouth, finding yourself mimicking his licks to the open air as you imagined his own erection was in your mouth. You played with your nipples, and it was heaven. You could get off to this. Clark could too, as he began rutting into the mattress, laving the center of your briefs with his wet tongue.
“I wish you could see yourself right now. You look so sexy, so…” Clark never finished his slurry of a sentence, clearly high off of his desire to ruin you. Your lids felt heavy, pinching and twirling your nipples to his languid mouthing like it was your lullaby. His voice came to a complete halt, a beat of silence that you’d come to query, until your eyes immediately widened at the warmth of his mouth surrounding your cock, finding your unspoken question answered.
“O-oh, Clark.. .That’s—mmf!” One hand was fondling your balls, while Clark’s other was stroking himself through his briefs after tossing your underwear to the carpet. His mouth was full. Warm and breached with your stiff shaft. His cheeks hollowed, and your body arced toward the ceiling as a result of holding your moans back.
On the contrary, your body was trembling. Cold tremors electrified every bone in you as Clark explored your cock with his thick tongue, building your excitement to a rattle. He’d secure you in his mouth, sucking and refusing to let you go even when your fingers laced and pulled at his hair, a lazy attempt to push him off, but it only encouraged him to suck harder, lick at the underside of your cock, at your veins, swirling over the glossy tip, tasting the salt you’d produce solely for him, because of him. “S-stop, I’m going to come if you keep—“
“Sorry, you just taste so good…” Reluctantly, Clark pulled you out with a subtle pop, wiping his remaining saliva on the back of his hand. Your cock was twitching in a shiny coat of spit as you and him both watched his masterpiece of a tongue have its remaining effect on you.
“My turn…” It was a declaration. You crawled forward onto all fours while Clark watched in anticipation. He sat up on his knees upon you reaching for the waistband of his briefs. With a slow pull, his large erection sprang free with a heavy bounce, and your pupils dilated. “Jesus, Clark…” You removed his briefs, tossing it to join the floor, and he sat back on his knees while you marveled over his girth. Its size submitted you into silence. A tint of envy, but mainly of wonder as you couldn’t possibly imagine fitting him inside of you.
“Hey, you don’t have to…” Clark could see the fear in your eyes. The intimidation. Though, he would never admit that he was extremely turned on from watching your expression morph into utter astonishment. His cock, however, couldn’t care less. Thick and mighty veins blasted from the base of his raging hard-on to the very plump tip of the bulbous head. It was as equally as inviting as it was intimidating.
“I want to. I’m just… kind of jealous, that’s all.” You laughed to yourself, wrapping a firm grip around Clark’s shaft and watching in awe at how you couldn’t close your fingers around him, even when you had adjusted your hand. Clark’s cheeks were scalding. Was there an adjective to describe someone who was embarrassed, but extremely aroused right now? He’d have to look it up, but he was that. He watched how your mouth practically salivated for him, working him in slow strokes because you were careful not to anger this phenomenon of a creature.
“You’re perfect, wouldn’t change a single thing about you. Where would be the fun in all of this if we all looked the same?” You hummed at the comforting words, somewhat feeling guilty over your cock hardening over such a sweet consolation.
Nonetheless, it wasn’t something you were going to dwell on. You knew Clark loved your body, he would’ve inhaled you whole if he could. As a token of appreciation, you nuzzled over the underside of his cock, lining gentle kisses over the veins that made you the hungry, desperate man you were displaying for him. “I love you.”
Clark would burn this image of you, drooling over the sight of his cock, over the tense of his muscles as you licked his abdomen, sucked at a birthmark on his hip, then hollowed your mouth out to accommodate his erection. “I love you.” He exhaled from his gut, nearly seeing the whites of his eyes as you didn’t spare a second in warming him up to your throat.
“Baby, slow down… You’re going to choke—“
“Mmfggh—“ Sweet sounds. Delicious noises that made his spine tingle, that made his muscular chest puff up as it swelled with so much selfish pleasure. You looked up at him with such pureness, a determination that Clark was afraid to shatter if he made you stop, so he simply watched. Petting your head, brushing strands of your hair that threatened to obscure the parts he’d loved most about you. Your eyes sparked with glee as the salt of his cock watered your tastebuds. You let your hands roam free on his body. One palm admiring the toned muscles on his stomach, the other stroking the inches of flesh that haven’t been in your mouth yet.
Then, your eyes filled with tears, as you became overzealous from your mouth blooming with arousal and heat as you took more of Clark. Past the tip now, your tongue flattened at the underside of his veiny cock to make room for his large shaft. Your cheeks hollowed while you sucked, and you could taste Clark leaking on your tongue again. Thick and salty pre-cum dancing over the bed of sprouts.
“Baby, careful…” Despite his warning, Clark couldn’t help but thrust every now and then into you.
It was difficult stuffing Clark inside of your mouth, but you proceeded. Further and further, you sank your head. Clark carefully held you while his gaze marveled at the warmth of your mouth. You’d splutter into a gag when you lodged him into the back of your throat, cramped and gratifying despite the tears in your eyes. Clark was quick to pull you back in case you choked on your own spit, and he knew you. He knew you were the type to take on a challenge. Before you could complain about him pulling you away, he brought you up for a kiss, meeting you half way as he bent forward. His hand was on your nape, tenderly massaging in case you pulled a muscle, and he smiled at your fluster when he pulled away. A thin line of spit connected the pair of lips, a display of devotion for one another. “You did so well.”
While Clark laid you on the bed once again and reached for lube out of his bedside drawer, you were kissing at the underside of his jaw. He’d left a mark on your neck, so it was only fair that you made your presence known as well. Your teeth nibbled on the stretch of skin as your lips wandered off to suck on a patch of skin on his neck. The smell of his body wash was strong in your nose when you buried your face into him, suckling until Clark’s neck had skipped the initial stage of turning pink, and instead, an ardent red. “Don’t finger me too much. I want to feel you.” Your cock throbbed in anticipation.
“No way, (M/N). I’m going to hurt you if I don’t.” He sealed off any potential retorts from you with a smooch to your lips, and then affectionately bumped his forehead to yours, sparing you a teasing smile. “And I promise you, you’d still feel me even if I spent an hour warming you up.”
Your heartbeat spiked.
You brought your knees up after he placed a pillow beneath your lower back. Clark took his sweet time lubing his fingers and erection. There was an obvious motive behind the gaze he’d spare you. A smugness in the curl of his calming smile. He made sure you were watching as he bucked his hips up when he slimed his cock with a glorious amount of lube. The remaining lubricant was used to lather your rim, and then the surface of your lips as he brought his hand up-close.
“It’s cake-flavored. Haven’t used it yet.“ Clark said with a laugh, pressing his lubed thumb to the center of your mouth.
“Of course it is. What’s with you and sweets?” Your lips parted to let your tongue peek out and take a swipe at the wet layer of his skin. Artificially sweet at first, but it wasn’t unpleasant enough to detract you away from it. After taking multiple samples of the lubricant, you closed your mouth around Clark’s thumb, and that was when the base notes hit your tongue. The scent of vanilla tingled your sinuses, as well as the artificial flavor of the sweet commodity spreading pleasantly on your tongue the more you sucked. It tasted more like marshmallows than a cake, but you weren’t complaining. You pushed his thumb out with your tongue and nodded in approval. “Tastes nice. Why do you need it to taste like cake though—“
“Because I like cake.” With a push of your thighs, Clark was back on his knees again. He haunched over to face your exposed entrance once you locked your arms around your legs, holding your knees to your chest. Then, he flattened his tongue over the smooth surface of your crack. One stripe to sample the quality of the flavor. Another to discover the depth of vanilla blossoming on his tongue. And then another few laps, because your bare flesh tasted infinitely better than whatever was mixed in that bottle of lube.
“Clark…” You wished you could properly watch him. For now, you had to settle on blindly watching the top of his head from the opening of your legs, dark curls bouncing as he eagerly devoured and lapped up the layer of lube that slicked up your opening. His tongue swirled over the rim of your hole, teasing at first, to sample you again, then he pressed his mouth to your entrance. The movement of his languid mouth nipping and mouthing made you pucker. It was an automatic reaction, you clenched, then opened, and Clark seized the opportunity and slipped his tongue inside of you, officially tasting you. “C-Clark! That’s—Mmf!”
Clark was under hypnosis. Everything that was said to him, that was plead towards him while he ate you out was drowned out by the sound of his slobbering. Two palms on your asscheeks stretched you out while Clark thrusted his tongue inside of you like daggers. When you clenched around his tongue, Clark pulled back to carefully push a lubed finger inside of you, spreading you back open. “I wish you could see this right now, (M/N). Your hole’s so pretty.” He looked up at you, lips beaten red and his fringe tousled, while he pumped two fingers inside of you now, smiling at the way your body had a mind of its own, floundering within your own hold, completely stripped of insanity and instead, disheveled over the smallest touch. “You look so pretty.” Your cock twitched in solidarity.
For someone who made it seem like he absolutely got no action, Clark was a natural talent in pleasing you. His fingers were thick and deep inside of you, curling at various spots you hadn’t even brushed once in your lifetime. You bit your lip, writhing in suppressed arousal, and Clark would watch in awe as he simultaneously licked around your rim and thrusted his fingers inside of you. Three now, spreading, twisting, and churning in and out of you smoothly with the help of a fresh paint of lubricant. His thick pecs bounced with every draw of his fingers, sweat beginning to form over his neck and shoulders as the heat between you and him only escalated. He broke out into cold sweats, watching you unravel your sanity before his very eyes, and Clark was eager to be the cause of your destruction, for you to equally ruin him.
You’d let your legs collapse onto the bed a while ago, but it was fine, because once you were properly warmed up, Clark took matters into his own hands and balanced your feet over his shoulders, pulling out and orienting his hips before you. He slicked his cock in another layer of lubricant, the smell of vanilla mixing pleasantly with his arousal, and he leaned for a sweet, but confirming, pushing your knees towards your chest in the process.
“I love you.” He softly whispered into your mouth, forehead to forehead. Words of affection that you couldn’t possibly imagine growing tired of. Your stomach was in knots, your heart tugging one way, and then another, as you two shared a gaze. A silent one, but surely meaningful because you felt close to tearing, looking into his sweet, adoring eyes. It nearly ripped when he repeated those three words again in your ear, gentle like the kisses he was adorning the shell of your ear, ticklish like the way he had been tracing your rim with the tip of his cock.
“I love you…” It came out as a purr, and you gave his shoulders a loving squeeze. I’m all set.
Upon the completion of your breath, Clark pushed his hips forth. Slowly, you felt your hole opening. Wider, as it took in Clark’s hot pulse. Gasping, as it was a struggle to fit the head of his cock inside of you. Your body naturally reacted in pushing back the intrusion out of your body, swelling around the plump glans and clenching to prevent him from moving any further. “C-Clark—“
“M-mm, relax—“ He grunted in the depth of your mouth, distracting you with another open-mouthed kiss. But Clark was persistent. He was nearly there. One more push, and he was in. He used the back of your thighs as leverage, pushed your legs further back, and pushed with careful might. Not enough to hurt you, but enough to break through the barrier that refused to let you two bond. Clark was pushing. You were pushing back. It was a battle for territory, a toll on your body as you broke into cold sweats. You inhaled at the increasing soreness, but nonetheless endured because you’d endured worse.
You’d lived through the loneliness that was your life without Clark, and that was absolutely unbearable compared to this. The thought of spending eternity with him reconciled you with near pleasure. You two would go on to do everything together. Holding hands with him in public would be a no-brainer as you helped him shop for a new suit. You’d celebrate his promotion over dinner, either homemade or a fancy restaurant, because Clark deserved the luxury of life. And if all things go well, he’d reward you for staying by his side and supporting him with a ring. Nothing too grand or magnificent, because you were never too keen for the lifestyle of the wealth. And knowing Clark, he’d ramble about how he could buy another engagement ring if you weren’t happy with it, completely forgetting to ask you about the inevitable: Will you marry me?
Exhaling once more, you brought a hand to his nape and gently pushed his forehead to yours. Then his nose squished with yours when you felt your body arched off the bed in response to Clark finally breaching inside of you with one tantalizing thrust, goosebumps fluttering over your skin and amplifying the soreness by tenfold. “H-hh! Clark!” You choked out, straining your neck as your body felt like it was burning. Scalding with pleasure and pain all at once.
“I got you. I got you, baby…” Clark slipped an arm beneath you, cushioning your body when gravity pushed you back onto the bed. He began lathering your neck in pacifying kisses, stilling his hips while doing so. “Doing so well, doing so good. You feel so good, you know that? You make me feel so good.” Clark was drunk on the grasp you had around his cock. So tight, you felt so tight, and he anticipated what you’d feel like beyond the first few inches of him.
“You’re okay?” For moments now, he’d been kissing you to divert your attention from the pain. Wiping beads of sweat off your face with the back of his hand. Massaging your chest and playing with your nipples. Anything to get your body to relax. Though, the most effective remedy was when he gazed into your eyes and rambled. Clark knew that. He felt your muscles loosen when he’d make a silly joke, or when he’d bring up a memory about losing his shoe at work. Touching was the easiest effort and you loved the weight of his palms on you, but you were most sentimental about Clark finding other ways to temporarily shift your mind to a sanctuary. All in all, the power of his humility was a force to be reckoned with.
“I’m okay… Just been a while.” Your lips slurred against his, kissing Clark again, extremely appreciative of his patience. “Think I’m all good now. You can move.” You confirmed with a gentle pat to his cheek.
“I’ll make you feel good.” It was a promise.
Clark kissed at your ear. “I’ll make you feel like you won’t want to stop when we’re about to end.” A symptom.
His lips moved to your neck. You shivered at the ghosting of his mouth, of his tongue, before he’d rightfully claim another spot on your neck as his own.
Clark reeled his hips back until only the tip was left inside of you. You whimpered at the emerging heat, but it was beginning to become bearable.
“I’ll make you feel like you were made for me.” You felt yourself split into two when Clark brought himself forward. A gasp slipped when you felt your hole stretch. And then continued to push itself to its limits as he worked himself inside of you with gentle and subtle thrusts, until Clark was an inch deeper. The grasp you had on his shoulders was extreme, egg-shell white as the sweat in your palms threatened to loosen your grip. The husk in his voice trembled while you swelled around him. Rapid pulsations embraced the thick veins of his cock, seemingly massaging him out of appreciation, a token of your gratitude because pleasure had finally materialized in the loss of your agony.
The toned muscles of Clark’s thighs slapped into the back of your sweaty thighs with every thrust. A salacious sound that wouldn’t cease. Louder. Harder, when Clark was comfortable enough to properly move inside of you. “Because you are.”
Properly stir your insides. Your face said it all. Your sight blasted as you watched Clark with dilated pupils, mouth agape like you had better counter to the flattery of the man’s words. Instead, you found yourself choking back on them. Words. They would’ve been affectionate words. They came out as stifled moans because it was embarrassing for Clark to see you like this. Grunts when Clark lodged himself deeper inside of you. He was just as motivated by a challenge as you were. The challenge of making all sorts of delightful noises fall from your mouth out of your own will.
Sweat dripped off of him like he’d just returned from a blacksmith. A sweltering fire would heat him up. Not to burn him, but to make him pliable enough for the blacksmith to shape the perfect man out of Clark’s flesh and bone. A chisel to carve out the deep dips in his upper traps, where your palms loved occupying. Another at his waist, where you’d hold Clark to help him dig you deeper. Then a hammer, used to forge the sturdy muscles on his athletic body. Deep hills and valley, crafted over his pecs and abdomen to let his sweat drain onto your body.
“You’re made for me, as much as I’m made for you.” Clark murmured.
A vow.
With that, Clark mounted you, both of his palms grounded to the space by your shoulders to stabilize his catapulted position. He pushed his full weight on top of you. Your legs folded towards your chest, alongside the sink of his body, until your knees signaled the end of their mobility. A kiss to your left calf to keep you alert, a bite to the other to warn, and Clark propelled his hips forward without the intention to stop. Further and further, your mouth and eyes widening as he tunneled through your contraction, until his cock was deeply-rooted fully inside of your hole. Clark settled himself inside of you with a yearning groan, and you retaliated with staggered cry.
“C-Clark, I feel so… full. Honey, fuck—” Your skin prickled with goosebumps knowing that Clark had fully breached your hole. There was no doubt about that, yet your hand snuck down to blindly confirm the achievement, to see if you could slot your hand between his pelvis and your ass. But Clark was pressed flushed against you. No gaps. Only the thick hairs of his pubic region came into contact with your fingers, and your cock twitched.
You were completely and utterly full to overflowing.
“You’re squeezing me so tight, baby. You feel so good. So warm. So… tight.” Clark huffed out a few breaths and slid his cock nearly out before slamming it back into you.
“U-uh-huh.” You panted at the sight of his arousal. How gratifying it was to Clark, being inside of you, to the point where his eyes would roll back, and then feel the need to slow his deep thrusts, because he was close. You could tell. You could feel his cock throbbing harder. Veins hotfooting a nearing high as you stimulated his aching muscle, and you were stroking your leaking dick to the feeling.
“I love this… I love you. I love making love to you.” His cock hammered your insides, the thick head of it raking past your sweet spot. It made your cock tremble, your glans crying out with thick, teary pre-cum. When your moans hiccuped a pitch, Clark realized he had mined gold.
“C-Clark, I love you—“ Your firm cock slid through your closed fist every time he moved, the creaking of bed springs following every motion of his thrust. It wouldn’t be long before you made a complete mess on your body. “Oh, god—“ Clark clasped his mouth around your tongue, greedy to feel your moans ricochet off the walls of his cheeks, and into the depth of his throat. Veins charged his arms as he pinned your hips to the bed. You were floating, higher and higher. The roam of your hands, over his sweaty pecs, his shoulders, his neck, his abdominal muscles, his arms—you were stimulating Clark’s body so he doesn’t stop. Motivating him to blind you with his devotion, starry skies and all.
“P-Please, Clark. God, that’s so good. You feel so—“ Forehead to forehead now, Clark was watching you passionately through heavy lids, alternating his gaze from the silent plea in your eyes, to the beaten and swollen muscle of cock in your jerking fist. All while he throbbed inside of you, overwhelming you with the pulsating of his thick cock veins, making love to your hole with the refusal to stretch his approaching climax.
So close, you were so close. You held Clark by his neck with one hand, and refused to let him pull away.
Faster and faster, his cock consistently drilled into your prostate, drumming against it with a deep swivel of his hips and more, until you couldn’t hold back your cries. Your pulse raced as your cock twitched with your heartbeat, speeding the flicks of your wrist to outpace Clark’s thrusts.
It was a tense battle to see who’d erupt first. Harder. Harder. Faster. You were a mess, and so was he. You made him a mess. A drunk intoxicated by carnal desire. Sweat clung onto his fringe, yet he had never looked so attractive, powering into you like a madman, impaling you with his love, with his devotion, with all of his might, brute force, through gritted teeth. You gripped him hard by his biceps, unsure of whether your cries of pleasure were heard between the thunderous sound of his thighs connecting to your asscheeks and the creaking of bed springs. You took a chance to cry out again, to warn him that you were close.
“C-Clark, I’m going to come…” The bubbling feeling had been too irresistible to delay any longer. Clark locked eyes with you upon your alert, and groaned. His tongue came out to skim the bottom of your lip, and you strained forward to cover his mouth with yours, sealing the pair of lips in a slow kiss, contrary to the rapid rhythm that had overtaken the rest of your body, and it stole your breath and made you all dizzy. Your cock only needed three more pumps.
Clark panted a few quick breaths, bracing his body in anticipation by clutching onto your hips until his fingers had turned white. “Want to see you come from my cock…” What you heard in his murmur was beyond want.
It was need.
Two.
You reminded Clark that you were going to come.
One.
His forehead pressed hard against yours, and he switched his gaze to your jerking fist.
“Clark—“
“Let it out. Show me how much you love me.”
You yanked your hand a millisecond before the inevitable, and Clark watched in pure bliss, maintaining his thrusts as your cock erupted with white. Thick shots of cum catapulted across your body with the aid of Clark’s thrusts drilling semen out of you. Layers of creamy ropes messily inked your body from abdomen to chest, and that was all it took for Clark to spill his load inside of you.
His hand like claws on your waist, he pummeled your insides for a few more seconds, delivering your ass with powerful thrusts, and you sobbed out in between breaths, clutching a bundle of his hair in both fists. Finally, Clark grunted, unloading himself inside of you with a scalding bite to your lips. You felt his cock pump, his balls jolting as it drained itself inside of your cavity, filling you up with an unspoken affirmation that you were his. He pushed his cum deep into your hole, powering through the cold tremors overhauling his body, and resumed thrusting inside of you.
Shallow and slow, but enough to spread himself all over your walls. Enough to remind you of the memory when you had been claimed as his, in case you’d ever forget.
You shuddered, dropping your legs to wrap them around his waist, because you could never forget. Couldn’t if you had tried. Not when he was milking his orgasm into you, dumping his warm seed into your hypersensitive hole until he filled you to the brim. Not when you prevented him from pulling out, because you pressed the heel of your feet into his lower back, and countered his thrusts with swivels of your pelvis, gluing him shut to you.
Until you were bonded to him.
“I love you…” Lethargy in his voice, his eyes closed. Clark worked so hard, and you immediately rewarded him with a slow kiss, embracing him close to you after.
“I love you.” He tucked his head into the crook of your neck, evidently gratified by your response as you felt the corners of his lips tug into a smile. You murmured sweet praises in his ear, petting the back of his head to calm the electrical currents stimulating his body.
“We… have a lot of catching up to do, by the way.” Clark suddenly spoke, and your eyes weakly opened, inquisitive over the strange tone in his voice.
It was also funny. How absolutely massive the man was, yet in your arms, he was cuddling up to you as if he wasn’t aware of his own weight plastering you.
“Yeah? Something on your mind, or you wanna save that for tomorrow?” You idly twirled a piece of his hair around your finger, windmilling it out of affection.
“I mean, I guess so? It’s been on my mind since we’ve met. And it’s been killing me on the inside.” The stubble on his chin tickled you when he lifted his head to look at you. The expression on his face suddenly made his warning seem all the more significant.
Concerning, as you propped yourself on your elbows and frowned. Despite your risen position, he was insistent on continuing to rest his weight atop of you, not that you had minded. “You’re kind of scaring me, Clark. What is it? Did you get fired or something?”
“No, no. Nothing like that. I—It’s just…” He stammered, then heavily exhaled. Thoughts of regrets plagued his mind at first, but he trusted you. You could see it in the light of his eyes. “Okay, here it goes. You know... how I’ve written multiple articles about Superman?”
“…Yeah? Got you on Perry’s radar, didn’t it? He seems to only like talking to you, which is impressive. Not surprising though—”
“Yeah, well… It’s just—there’s a reason why… he only sees me.”
“Why? Is it because he saved you or—”
“Clark, what are you doing with your eyes?—“
“Wait, holy crap—“
nouearth. please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works. and if you like this story, please reblog and leave a like!
#clark kent x reader#clark kent x male reader#clark kent x m!reader#clark kent x y/n#clark kent x you#clark kent imagine#clark kent fanfic#clark kent fanfiction#x male reader#m!reader#male reader#male reader insert#bottom male reader#superman x reader#superman x male reader#superman x m!reader#superman x y/n#superman x you#the gif turned out cuteeeee#nou.fics
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steddie | rating: t | wc: 3,8k | cw: mention of throwing up | tags: pre-season 4, different first meetings, eddie is afraid of heights, steve is a sweetheart, holding hands, first kiss
for week one of @softsteddieseptember using the prompt “facing your fears”
read on ao3 here
Jeff and Gareth stumble out of the Ferris Wheel and Eddie snorts out a laugh.
Jeff is struggling to keep them both upright as Gareth leans all of his weight on him, his face alarmingly green. Jeff manages to get them to the picnic table where Eddie is sitting without Gareth barfing but when he plops down next to Eddie he scoots away, putting some distance between them just in case.
“Shouldn’t’ve gone on the Ferris Wheel after swallowing three fucking corn dogs, Gare,” Eddie sniggers, taking a drag of the cig he’d been smoking while his two friends were spinning fifty feet from the ground.
“Don’t-” Gareth mumbles, cutting himself off with a gagging sound that makes Eddie sit on top of the table just to put more space between them. “Don’t mention corn dogs. Or food,” he finishes meekly, hunching forward and burying his face in his hands.
Jeff gives him a pat on the shoulder. “It’s your fault, man,” he tells Eddie, who gasps, affronted by the accusation. “If you didn’t fuck off to go take a piss then Gareth wouldn’t’ve had to go on it with me.”
Eddie shrugs, the cigarette dangling from his lips. “Whatcha want me to say, Jeff? When you gotta go, you gotta go.”
(The truth is Eddie didn’t have to go.
He lied about it and then wandered around the fairgrounds aimlessly until he was certain Jeff and Gareth had gone on the Ferris Wheel.
Because Eddie is terrified of heights, a fact no one but his uncle is aware of given how cool and unmetal it is.)
“Ugh, I gotta go,” Gareth grumbles, stumbling over to some bushes before throwing up all over them.
Eddie recoils with a grimace. “Dude!”
Gareth pulls himself together. He wipes his mouth and glares at him over his shoulder. “Shut up, Ed, you wouldn’t be doing any better if it was you who went up-” He pauses, narrowing his eyes at Eddie. “Wait, how come I’ve never seen you go on the Ferris Wheel?”
Oh crap.
“I’ve been on it,” Eddie shrugs, lying as convincingly as he can. “Many times.”
Jeff studies him curiously. “No, no, Gare, is right. We’ve been coming here for three years and you’ve never been on it with us!”
“I’ve been on it,” Eddie insists. “Just you know with other people.”
They both snort. “Oh yeah?” Jeff asks. “Who?”
“Yeah, Eddie, you don’t have any other friends,” Gareth adds.
“I do!” Eddie protests, waving his hands like it will make names appear out of thin air. “I have Freak!”
Jeff raises an eyebrow. “What’s his real name?”
“Uh-” Eddie shrugs. “Freak?”
Gareth shakes his head. The color is back on his face but Eddie wishes he’d go back to hurling his guts out. “If I didn’t know any better, Eddie, I’d say you’re afraid to go on it.”
“Pfffft,” Eddie slaps his knee with a laugh. “I am not.”
“Prove it then,” Gareth says, crossing his arms over his chest.
“What?”
“Go on the Ferris Wheel now.”
“Uh, can I finish my cig first?” Eddie asks, trying to stall.
But his friends won’t let him. “No,” they say at the same time.
Well, shit.
“Ugh, fiiiiiine,” Eddie says, throwing his arms up in a tantrum before snuffing the cig against the table.
He stands up and, flanked by his two friends, starts walking towards the Ferris Wheel. As he does, he considers the pros and cons of fleeing- he’s gotten very good at running from people and neither Gareth nor Jeff are as quick as some of the jocks he’s had to outrun before.
But Eddie realizes he might not need to run away when they reach the line just as the guy manning the ride opens the last car to let the last two people in.
“Won’t you look at that!” Eddie whirls around, clapping his hands together. “It’s full! Oh well, there’s always next year!”
He throws his arms around Jeff and Gareth and starts dragging them away. Only for them to stop in their tracks when there’s a voice behind them.
“We have one spot left!” The guy announces. “One spot left! Who wants to ride?”
Gareth whirls around. “He does!” He says, pointing at Eddie who curses inwardly. “He’ll do it. Right, Eddie?”
Through gritted teeth, Eddie mutters ‘if you insist’ because what other fucking choice does he have?
He makes his way to the front of the line like a man stepping into the gallows, jaw clenched and hands balled up into fists at his sides pausing again just as he’s about to get on.
Because sitting on the Ferris Wheel car is no other than Steve fucking Harrington.
He wants to do this even less now knowing that Harrington will be sitting next to him as he tries not to shit his pants. The last thing he wants is the King of Hawkins High to go around sharing that with everyone.
“Dude, are you getting in or not?” The guy asks when Eddie just stands there, an annoyed tilt to his voice.
Eddie glances over his shoulder to find Gareth and Jeff giving him two thumbs up, matching smirks on their faces. He flips them off, ignoring the scandalized gasp from a mother waiting in line with her son.
Then he glances back at the car- at Harrington, who is staring at him with an impatient bitchy look. The King probably isn’t happy about sharing a Ferris Wheel car with the Freak.
Yeah, well, the feeling is fucking mutual.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m going in,” Eddie says anyway, sliding into his seat. He does his best to ignore Harrington as the guy lowers the safety bar on their laps- as well as the dread that has settled on his belly.
It only grows as they start moving.
“Enjoy your ride,” the guy tells them with fake cheerfulness.
Eddie fights the urge to flip him off too.
“Fuck,” he mutters, grabbing the safety bar with a death grip as their car starts to rise. They keep rocking back and forth and Eddie’s stomach falls out of his ass every time. “Fuck me.”
Next to him, Harrington lets out a snort. “At least buy me dinner first, Munson.”
Eddie snaps his head towards him- Harrington is leaning back against his seat with a smirk, seemingly not caring at all about the fact that they’re about to be thirty feet from the ground. Asshole.
“Hardy-har-har, Harrington,” Eddie says through gritted teeth, trying not to let his voice waver.
As far as comebacks go, it’s a lame one and Harrington must notice. “Geez, man. Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m- I’m fine.”
Harrington glances down at Eddie’s hands on the safety bar with a pointed look. “Really? Because you look like you’re trying to snap that bar in half.”
Eddie glances down and sees that he’s white-knuckling the safety bar. He loosens his hold a little. “I’m fine,” he says, voice clipped. “Mind your own business, Your Majesty.”
“Christ, Munson, what’s your problem?” Harrington huffs out a sound halfway between a grunt and a laugh. “And don’t call me that. You don’t hear me calling you Freak.”
To Eddie, they’re not the same. He thought someone like Harrington would enjoy being reminded about his popular status in high school- even if Eddie’s tone is mocking. But it seems the whole King thing struck a nerve.
“My problem is-” Eddie starts, meaning to tell Harrington that it’s him even if Eddie hasn’t had a problem with him in particular since he graduated but then their car jerks and his words trail off into a whimper.
“This fucking deathtrap, shit. Okay, I’m not fine,” he admits, eyes screwed shut as they reach the top. “I'm like terrified of heights, okay? Which is fucking lame and super unmetal of me so go ahead, laugh it up.”
He waits to hear it- Harrington’s laugh but there’s only silence.
Eddie peeks at him through one eye.
“I’m not gonna do that,” Harrington says, his eyebrows knitted in a way that’s frankly kinda cute.
Cute? Jesus Christ, Eddie, not the time.
“Why not?” He asks. “It’s what you jocks do.”
“Yeah, well, I haven’t been a jock for a while, man.”
Eddie guesses that’s true. Even before he graduated, Harrington had stopped being a jock under Eddie’s definition of the word. He still played basketball, but he didn’t pick on Eddie or the other nerds and now he’s not laughing at him for being afraid of heights even though if the roles were reversed Eddie would probably get a few laughs in himself.
Maybe he should cut Harrington some slack.
“Why are you riding the Ferris Wheel anyway?” He asks after a short silence. “If you don’t like heights?”
Another mind your own business rests at the tip of Eddie’s tongue but he did just say he’d cut him some slack. Besides, Eddie is slowly realizing that talking to Harrington is helping keep him distracted from where they are right now.
“Well, my friends think I’m scared-”
“You are,” Harrington interjects with a smirk.
“Yeah, yeah, I am,” Eddie accepts with an eye roll even if he feels his mouth tick up. “But they don’t need to know that, I have a reputation to uphold.”
“With your friends?”
“With my friends, the school.” Eddie clicks his tongue. “ Society.”
Harrington snorts out a startled sort of chuckle, eyebrows raised in amusement. “Well, I won’t tell society,” he says with a conspiratorial smile. “Your secret’s safe with me.”
He bumps their shoulders together and it makes the car tip forward. Eddie bites down on a very embarrassing scream. Harrington grimaces. “Shit, sorry.”
“Why are you- why are you riding the Ferris Wheel?” Eddie asks. “You can’t possibly enjoy this, man.”
“It’s not so bad,” Harrington shrugs. “I like the view, especially at sunset.”
“Ah,” Eddie smiles teasingly. “I bet you bring all the pretty girls up here, hold their hand if they get scared.”
Harrington raises an eyebrow at him. “Are you suggesting I hold your hand, Munson?”
Is he? Eddie looks down at Steve’s hands. They’re nice hands and Eddie has to admit that the thought of holding one of them right now doesn’t exactly make him want to jump off this car.
It makes his heat build in his cheeks actually. “Fuck off, no, I’m-”
“Because I would,” Harrington interjects, “if you wanted me to.”
Eddie’s eyes go wide. “I- uh. You- no, you wouldn’t.”
Harrington tilts his head, watching Eddie with a mixture of amusement and something else. If Eddie didn’t know any better he’d say Harrington finds it endearing- how nervous Eddie is. What the hot fuck?
Harrington holds out his hand, palm up, in the space between them.
Eddie can only stare at it like it’s going to bite him or like Harrington is going to jerk it back and laugh at him for falling for the joke. He does neither. He wiggles his fingers and Eddie, who might be oxygen-deprived from the height, lets go of the bar with one hand, wipes it on his jeans, and grabs Harrington’s.
He links their fingers together loosely and gives Eddie a little half-smirk, half-smile that he bets left a girl or two giggling back in the day. Right now it makes Eddie’s heart stutter in a wildly different way than being this far from the ground does.
The ground, which is currently far, far away. Shit. The reminder makes him grip Harrington’s hand tighter and it’s really nice- warm and soft instead of cold and hard like the safety bar. Eddie looks down at their joined hands, and focuses on that- on how big Steve’s hand is and how many freckles are dusted over the back of it, how he doesn’t seem to mind that Eddie’s rings are probably digging painfully into his skin with how hard he’s holding on to him.
“Better?”
“Yeah,” Eddie admits with a shaky laugh. “Um, thanks, man, for not laughing and like, not being a dick about this.”
“Yeah, well, I’m trying to be less of a dick these days.”
“And how’s that working out for ya?”
Harrington’s nose scrunches up. “I’m alone at the Ferris Wheel, Eddie, so what do you think?”
Eddie chuckles. “Oh, so what am I? Chopped liver?”
“No!” Harrington counters quickly. “Just not who I thought I’d end up riding the Ferris Wheel with.”
“Oh how you wound me, Steve,” Eddie says with an exaggerated pout.
“Shut up, you’re the one who’s wounding me,” he says playfully, using his free hand to gesture at where his other one is still trapped by Eddie’s. “Think you’re cutting off circulation to my hand.”
Eddie loosens his hold a little, his cheeks pinking up again. “Fuck, sorry.”
“It’s okay,” Steve says, giving it a squeeze. “Robin and I went to see this gross movie once called The Thing and I’m pretty sure I almost lost all my fingers from how hard she was gripping my hand.”
Eddie blinks. “Robin Buckley? From band?” He asks and Steve nods. “I didn’t know you two were friends or is it- are you two like-”
Jesus, why do you even care, Munson? Talk about minding your own business.
“Oh no,” Steve replies even if Eddie didn’t finish the question. “I love Robin, but she’s just my friend. My best friend. It’s tectonic.”
Eddie tilts his head. “Do- do you mean platonic?”
“Yeah, that,” Steve says, snapping his fingers and shooting a single finger gun in his direction. “She’s actually down there somewhere with- um, with someone else.”
“Oh, Steve,” Eddie says, shaking his head. “You’re third-wheeling your band nerd best friend? How the mighty have fallen truly.”
Steve groans, throwing his head back but not before Eddie sees how his mouth twitches. “It gets worse, dude. I’m also here babysitting a bunch of fourteen-year-olds who are also nerds. Except for Max, she’s cool, she doesn’t play that- dorks and dweebs game the others are obsessed with.”
“Hold on, I’m sorry, do you mean Dungeons and Dragons?” Eddie sputters, trying to wrap his head around everything he’s learning about Steve- horror movie enjoyer, nerd-sympathizer, a babysitter who sort of knows what Dungeons and Dragons is.
Steve purses his lips. “I think I like my name better.”
“Sure, buddy,” Eddie says with a snort. “Well, I’m sorry to inform you that I run an after-school club for that game so by hanging out with me your cool-o-meter just took an even bigger nose dive.”
“Well, goddamn it, Munson,” Steve says jokingly.
“Bet you wish you got stuck with a pretty girl instead of me, huh, big boy?”
Steve falters at the name that truth be told slipped out of Eddie’s mouth without him realizing. A slight pink tinge shades his cheeks.
It’s nothing compared to the deep shade of red Eddie’s cheeks turn when Steve says, “Actually being stuck with a pretty boy is fine by me.”
A nearly hysterical laugh rushes from Eddie’s lips before he can help it. “A pretty- uh. What?” His heart is doing summersaults in his chest and Eddie tries hard to get it to calm down. Steve could be fucking with him. Fuck, is he? “Are you- Steve. Harrington. Are you fucking with me? ‘Cause you might’ve graduated and you might not be a jock anymore but I know you know what your teammates called me, man, you know I’m- and you fucking with me like that is not cool-”
“Woah, Eddie, hey. I’m not,” Steve assures him, pretty brown eyes wide like a startled deer. “It’s true, okay? You are pretty.”
Oh.
An ugly strangled noise escapes Eddie. “Oh. Okay. Uh.”
Steve runs a hand through his hair and shifts nervously in the seat. “Fuck, just forget I said that, I didn’t want to make things weird, okay? Just- yeah, forget it.”
“Who says I want to?”
Steve’s eyebrows meet in the middle. Cute, Eddie thinks again. Oh, maybe it was the time after all. “Um, your face, man? You look like I splashed you with water and then threw a toaster at you or something.”
“That’s- that’s actually a good way to describe how I feel, yeah,” Eddie agrees. Steve cringes slightly. “Not in a bad way! I’m just surprised! I didn’t know you-” liked boys? liked freaks? liked me?
Whatever he means, Steve gets it. “Yeah, I do,” he says, the tips of his ears turning pink. “It’s fine if you don’t or whatever-”
Eddie opens his mouth to assure him he does in fact like boys and freaks and Steve who might be a freak himself if this Ferris Wheel ride has taught Eddie anything-
Before he can though the Ferris Wheel screeches to a halt, their car rocking in place at the top.
“Why- why are we stopping? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong,” Steve says, squeezing Eddie’s hand. “It’s the last spin, they’re probably gonna stop each cart at the top for a few minutes.”
Eddie whines pathetically. “What? Why?”
“So people can watch the sunset? Make out?” Steve blushes. “Or something.”
The wind picks up and makes the car rock back and forth and Eddie groans. “Fucking great!”
“Hey, what do you need?” Steve asks, rubbing his thumb over the back of Eddie’s hand. It’s almost enough to distract him from being stuck at the top. Almost.
“To be back on solid ground? Or a distraction. Please distract me, Stevie,” Eddie says, feeling panic bubbling up inside him. He doesn’t even notice when the nickname slips out.
Steve’s eyes flick over his face looking for something. He either finds it or gives up. Either way, he takes a deep breath. “Please don’t punch me for this.”
“Punch you for-”
The last word dies in Eddie’s throat because Steve leans in and presses a kiss to his mouth, effectively shutting him up.
For a beat, neither of them does anything. Then Steve’s free hand cups Eddie’s cheek and he moves his lips. Eddie makes a soft, needy noise in the back of his throat, his eyelids fluttering shut, and then he’s kissing Steve back.
It’s a slow and lazy kiss but it’s enough to make Eddie forget where he is or that he’s supposed to be panicking. He even lets go of the safety bar just so he can get his fingers in Steve’s hair.
They don’t break apart until the Ferris Wheel starts moving again, their car making its way down so they can finally get off this stupid thing.
(Though it might be starting to grow on Eddie. Just a little.)
When they stop again so that the people in the next car can have their go at the top, Eddie’s stomach merely swoops and it might have more to do with the way Steve licks his pink, wet lips than with anything else.
“Well, that’s one way to distract someone,” Eddie says, his voice coming out a little breathless. “Thanks, Stevie.”
Steve snorts, hanging a hand from his neck. “Thanks for not punching me.”
“I’m a lover, not a fighter, baby,” Eddie says and watches delightedly how a flush creeps up Steve’s cheeks at the pet name. “I’d never punch you, your face is too pretty for that.”
A startled laugh tumbles from Steve’s lips. “So I could kiss you again?”
“I could be persuaded to do that again, yeah.” Eddie tilts his head, eyes darting a little anxiously over Steve’s face. “First I gotta know if this is like a ‘what happens in the Ferris Wheel stays in the Ferris Wheel’ kind of thing, you know?”
“Nah,” Steve says with a smile that edges on soft. “I was actually gonna drag you with me to the Hoop Shot game after this. Impress you a little.”
“Oh yeah?” Eddie asks, grinning widely. “Gonna impress me with your jock moves?”
“Mhm. By winning you a stuffed animal too.”
Eddie clicks his tongue. “Stevie, Stevie, Stevie, I told you, I have a reputation to uphold-”
“With society, yeah, yeah. Don’t worry, I’ll get you something metal like a bat! Or a dragon.”
“Hm,” Eddie taps his finger against his chin. “Get me both and it’s a deal!”
Steve’s eyes twinkle. “Does that mean I get two kisses?”
“Oh, sweetheart,” Eddie says, pitching his voice low and deep. Steve’s eyes widen slightly. “You can have way more than that.”
They’re almost at the bottom now which is probably why Steve doesn’t lean in for another kiss right then and there when it’s clear that he wants to. This close to the ground, people could see and the last thing they want is an angry mob waiting for them at the bottom.
They’re happy to just hold hands for what’s left of the ride. Despite Eddie not being scared anymore, neither of them considers letting go, not until the guy from before yanks the safety bar off their laps, stares curiously at their clasped hands for a second before his expression turns bored again, and waves them out of the car.
Eddie climbs out and jogs down the steps, past the people waiting in line. His eyes dart over the people hanging around the Ferris Wheel, looking for Gareth and Jeff but his friends must’ve gotten bored and wandered off at some point because they’re nowhere to be seen. Whatever, he was gonna ditch them to hang out with Steve anyway.
But Steve gets the wrong idea when he sees Eddie scanning the crowd. He scruffs his Nike against the ground and hangs a hand from his neck. “It’s okay if you wanna find your friends-”
“Fuck, no,” Eddie says quickly. “They’re big boys, they can get home on their own. Or not and it serves them right for forcing me to go on that deathtrap!”
“Oh, come on,” Steve says with a playful grin.
“Fine, I guess it wasn’t that bad,” Eddie says, rolling his eyes, the corners of his mouth ticking up. “What about you? You don’t have to find your baby nerds and make sure they’re okay?”
“Nope, those shitheads can take care of themselves,” Steve says. “I have more important things to do.”
“Like me?” Eddie asks with a ridiculous waggle of his eyebrows. It makes Steve tip his head back with a laugh. Eddie’s eyes zero in on the moles in the column on his neck, thoughts drifting to wanting to kiss every single one of them.
“Maybe later,” he tells Eddie with a wink. His stomach swoops and this time it has nothing to do with gravity and heights. “C’mon, man, let’s get you that bat.”
Eddie holds his finger up, wagging it in front of Steve’s face. “And the dragon!” Eddie says, getting all up in Steve’s space as he starts walking in the direction of the Hoop Shot game. “Don’t forget the dragon!”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever you say, Munson.”
(Steve gets him the bat. And the dragon. And cotton candy. And later follows Eddie home after dropping off his herd of fourteen-year-olds. Eddie lets him have two kisses and more just like he promised.)
(And he rides more than just the Ferris Wheel that day.)
#soft steddie september#softsteddieseptember#steddie#steddie fic#stranger things fic#stranger things#i'm a day late for this week but i was sick for three days and couldn't do more than watch Netflix so i hope i can be forgiven#i've always wanted to write a different first meeting and i finally did woohoo#steve harrington#eddie munson#monse writes
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Can I give tac some roses and a smooch (if he's ok with it) pls??? 👁👁
(Click/tap image for better quality)
Tac: Hope yer Red don't mind.~
((He's definitely ok with it.. Maybe a little too ok with it.))
#hope this isn't too much lmao#ty for the ask fren <3#sry it took nearly a week hhh#hope u like <3#(i forgot.. th scares on his hands q-q)#(idk how to draw. small rose bouquet.. hope this's good)#(she's only like one inch shorter than him with her boots on so the height difference isn't super accurate but it's fine lol)#tam ask event#roo#tac sans#fell tourette's sans#undertale#undertale au#didderd ocs#didderd art#didderd asks#monsterroonio
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Hi Jade! Congrats on 46k! You deserve it, you are such a wonderful writer!!!
I'd like to request eddie and roan at the county fair, for the first time with reader. roan is probably scared of the ferris wheel at first and eddie probably spends way too much trying to win both his girls stuffed animals
Eddie and Roan —Eddie tries to win a stuffed animal for Roan, and an argument ends in hot dogs. (step) mom!reader, 1k
When you met Eddie he was really skinny for his height and occupation. Weight is different for everybody. You didn’t notice he was slight until he was taking his shirt off for the first time, and you realised you could see the lines of his ribs.
He was beautiful, of course, and you wouldn’t change anything about him then or now, but you have to confess that the happy weight looks good on him. It’s only a couple of kilos in the two years you’ve been together, but it’s enough to accentuate his arms when he swings Roan against his chest.
“I’m not carrying you around all night,” he warns her. “Y/N told you those shoes would pinch your toes but you didn’t listen.”
“I like them,” Roan defends.
“They’re pretty, but they’re too small. We have to let things go, remember?” Eddie lets out a groan as she climbs his shoulders to hug the back of his neck, pulling his hair, and kneeing him in the neck. “Jesus, Ro.”
You grab her before she can do permanent damage. She is much more polite in your hold.
Eddie gives you a grateful smile and puts his hand between your shoulders to keep everybody moving. The walkway between the porta-potties and the Balloon Pop is crowded with kids staring at the flashing toys, and it’s a task and a half to avoid mowing them down as you traverse the fair’s wet grass.
“I’m surprised they still opened,” you say.
“It’s a Roan miracle,” Eddie says.
You can feel the girl in question staring at you. You look down at her and she beams.
“What?” you ask.
“Hi, mommy.”
“Yeah, hi, baby, what are you staring at?”
“You have the purple light on your face.”
“You have pink and orange!” you say, poking her cheek gently. “Right here.”
It will never stop feeling good to hear her call you mommy.
You shrug her further into your arms, determined to carry her for the rest of the night lest she hurt her toes, Eddie steering you around the crowd to get a huge rainbow cotton candy, which Roan promptly gets lost in her hair. Eddie pulls off strips of green and blue to feed you while your arms are occupied, but then he pushes his fingertip against your tongue and you ban him from any further feeding.
He’s still laughing when he notices something behind you. “Girls, look, there’s the Bean Bag Toss. Remember I said I was good at that one?”
“Wow,” Roan says, and you can’t help thinking she’s talking just to you, proved when she adds, “mommy, look, they have puppies in coats.”
The wall of the Bean Bag Toss attraction is covered in all kinds of teddies and stuffies, the most alluring being a row of adorable puppies in coats that make them look like ladybugs, sharks, and frogs. “They do have coats, that’s so cute. Should dad try his luck?”
“I’m gonna win,” Eddie promises. “Pick which one you want, babe, I’m a winner.”
You don’t bother sighing. Eddie’s promised her now, and if he doesn’t win, it’s gonna cost him something stupid to buy one under the table. “Ladybug?” Roan whispers.
“Which one do you like most?” you ask knowingly. “If it’s the ladybug, choose the ladybug.”
“I like her spots.”
“I like her spots, too.”
You and Roan step back as Eddie pays for three goes. Then another three. Then six. He’s not bad, per se, but he’s not winning, either. You and Roan don’t give up faith in him.
“Come on, handsome, you can do it!” you cheer.
“You can do it,” Roan echoes. “Go, daddy!”
Eddie glances back at you both without shame. He grins, and he turns back to the game, and he throws the beanbag. It lands. He throws the next. Before you know it, the sixth one whacks hard into the back of the last pot, a clean win for the low low price of twenty five dollars.
“Which one do you want?” the carnie asks.
“Which one, bubby?” Eddie asks.
Roan is shy but polite as she hugs your neck. “Can I have the puppy with the ladybug coat, please? The red coat?”
The carnie passes it to Eddie, who quickly says thanks and passes it to Roan. She goes a little white in the face, a split second for you to worry, but she beams and buries her face in the puppy’s neck. “Thanks, daddy,” she says.
Eddie grins. He puts his hand on her back, his rings catching the light as he scrubs her shoulder. “You’re welcome.”
You catch his eye.
“Want me to do it again?” he asks.
“Nuh-uh, Munson, we have a ferris wheel to ride.”
“Gotcha. Ro, why don’t we give Y/N a break, huh? Let’s walk on our own feet.”
Ro refuses on the grounds that you are So warm. She’s not that heavy, you let her stay. Eddie wrestles her back into his arms by the hot dog cart, stating many reasons: he’s strong, you’re too beautiful for carrying, he wants to see the puppy up close, and he wants to show off his muscles.
He says that last part slowly. You’ve been caught.
“Well, you’re my boyfriend,” you argue.
Eddie takes your hand. You’re happy, but you realise quickly that he’s trying to take your ring. “Wait, fiancé!” you correct yourself, dragging your hand back despite his pulling.
“No, that’s okay, if you don’t want it–”
“Sorry, sorry! Ro, tell dad we have to get married.”
“Ro, tell mom she has to stop calling me the wrong thing.”
“Um, no fighting,” Ro says, “can we get hotdogs now?”
“I’ll buy you two if you tell dad to stop taking my ring.”
Roan puts a hand on Eddie’s cheek. “Dad, can you stop?” Eddie stares at her in silence for a moment, then nods with an eye roll. “Tada. I want ketchup and pickles and cheese, please. And curly fries?”
#eddie and roan#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson x fem!reader#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson oneshot#eddie munson scenario#eddie munson drabble#eddie munson fic#eddie munson fanfiction#dad!eddie munson#dad!eddie munson x reader#stranger things fanfiction#stranger things#stranger things fic#stranger things x reader
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HAZBIN HOTEL X ROBLOX NOOB! READER
prompt: your best friend John Doe hacked you into a universe where hell is much different in your mind
“OOF-” you said as you press the buttons on your ps5. A portal opens as blocky person with yellow skin exits out of the portal looking at you. “JD!” You said with a “:P” face. “noob…you get to get out the house more…” John Doe said with a static voice as he picked up your bloxy body and thrown you into a portal as you kept smiling
“:) yay I’m falling.” You said out loud as you felt yourself fall in the air. You fell but landed on your feet like always. You look around to see that it smell like must, ass, and most importantly fire. You walked around just smiling as demons and sinners looked as if you were some weirdo…..
You came across the hotel and applied for a job to be the schedule manager. You got a red outfit to match vaggie and Charlie as you grab a flat board and started to write who gets to do what.
Noob! Reader is the type to pull out a cannon out of fucking no where and fuck someone’s life up🦆(a/n: pinkie pie type shit)
I can see Alastor watching you do a r6 dance as he just looked at you weirdly with a strained smile. You literally said out loud “/E DANCE!” And started to dance 😭
Lucifer got scared because he accidentally let you dove off a roof…but you respawned with a blue force field around you making Lucifer think you were an angel.
You love the egg boiz as they love you too! You do color sheets with them as Pentious brings you guys some cookies like a mom💗
You had onetime pulled a chainsaw out because husk said he needed to get a haircut on his fur. You literally pullled it out of no while husk jolted looking at your crazed face as you reved it up.
“You said you needed a hair cut!!” “I SAID HAIR CUT! NOT END MY LIFE YOU FUCKER!” Husk yells back as you chase him smiling like “:D” with the chainsaw. It was giving scooby doo as you kept chasing him.
Lucifer would be weirded out with Noob as noob just sticks their tongue out like the :P face while Lucifer pokes you curious about your game like box body.
I imagine noob! Reader showing Charlie a picture of bacon hair boy who is doing orange justice in the back. “Oh is that your friend?” Charlie says with a nervous smile at how your friend’s hair literally looks like bacon or is. You nodded excitedly as you wave your phone happily at bacon hair boy.
You blasted “it’s raining tacos” outside of the Vee’s tower when learning your friends had opps in there. So you wanted to annoy them.
This lasted for 2 days until vaggie had found you and took you home as you screamed out the song LOUD AND PROUD
I can imagine Lucifer making you a duck hat that says “don’t duck with me!” It’s so cute 🦆
I headcannon noob!reader to be the most dangerous being in hell as they literally been to every other gun and fighting game of the roblox universe.
NOOB SOLOS‼️‼️🔥
You know those badass Roblox games with those cool combat moves? That’s what you use. 🤨
You grabbed a sinner’s face and run dragging their body in the ground with a smile. You lifted your arm and swing them around as they flew to who knows where as the crew behind you had an either shocked or entertained face.
One time Charlie and you were shopping in a mall and you peaked over the boarder to keep people from falling. “I wonder if I can die from this height.” “NOOB NO-” that’s when you had to get a kid leash on you anytime you go out with the staff.
It was a nice day as Angel was throwing knives to increase his skills. You walked by him curiously grabbing two knives and throwing them at the same time. Making it hit the bullseye as Angel looked at you shock.
“Whoa kid, how did you learn to do that?” Angel asked pulling out the knives you made in the bullseye. “I was murder once!” You said with a happy smile as you walked away. Angel dust has the most confused face ever(picture below)
I headcannon noob!reader to be like Kirby. So like noob pulls out a knife to be murder, and then they could pull out a gun as Sheriff✨🦆
“Pew pew pew” you said as you stood on the balcony of the hotel as you shot at random sinners. Alastor appeared behind you confused but laughs at the misery of the sinner running when a missed shot almost killed them.
One time Angel gave you a Tommy gun not suspecting you know how to use it….you literally started to blast sinners away-
You SHOT AN OLD LADY ALSO😨
yeah Angel never gave you his Tommy gun ever again.
As you stayed in hell, you didn’t know that you would be spied on by the angels as Adam laughs at how chaotic and naive you are.
You’re so use to bullshit in Roblox you just stand there like “🧍🏾” as shit goes on. Literally when Charlie was panicking when the extermination was due in 6 months
During a uno game you ate a card as husk was trying to win but forfeited in anger as you screamed out uno. Leaving the missing card out of your mouth….it got quiet so quick as husk chased after you.
Niffty finds you amazing as you both have crazed tendencies. You both literally cause made chaos around places 🤭
YOU USE YOUR ADOPT ME SCAMMING SKILLS TO SCAM PEOPLE 😭😭 I CAN SEE THIS
The overlords are confused when they see Lucifer bring you to a meeting for once. You just sat there eating a taco. “Ello.” You said waving your blocky arm at them.
When watching the horror movies with the crew, you don’t react at all with Alastor as you been in lots of horror games with that one guy named Guest…you miss home and him.
I headcannon that you once accidentally summoned John Doe because you sneezed and he literally stood there as you hugged him. The rest of the crew was confused thinking he was your brother.
#roblox noob#noob x reader#Roblox x reader#Roblox#noob! reader#hazbin hotel x Roblox#hazbin hotel x noob#hotel hazbin x noob! reader#crossover#hazbin hotel x female reader#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel x male reader#hazbin hotel headcanons#hazbin hotel imagine#hazbin hotel lucifer x reader#hazbin hotel x platonic!reader#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel x you#hazbin hotel adam x reader#hazbin x you#hazbin alastor#hazbin angel dust#hazbin lucifer#hazbin charlie#hazbin husk#hazbin vaggie
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Hello,
How about a LA luffy where he's dating Reader and he keeps talking about her but no one believes him until she comes and rescue them or something I know not much details but please take this to your account English isn't my first language so excuse me
OMG THIS IS PERFECT! Thank you for the request! I apologize for taking so long to write it I've been so busy and full of writers block its insane! I added a little twist with his and made th reader a gunslinger sooo yeah(for the plot) Anywa here we go! Enjoy
Warnings: None
The strawhat crew was becoming increasingly irritated with how much Luffy would speak of this mystery woman who he claimed to be his 'girlfriend'. In all honestly, neither of them thought he had the romantic capacity to even GET a girlfriend to begin with. But the way he spoke of her...it couldn't all be lies could it?
He mentioned how you'd saved him with your remarkable skills as a gunslinger and you were an amazing shot. He gushed about how it took only one bullet to kill three men who had threatened him and when it was all over you 'pepper his face with kisses'. How you were always there to save him more times than not and that you were just absolutely beautiful. The 'prettiest girl' he'd ever seen as he told it.
"If you guys are so in love why didn't she join you on this little pirate adventure." Nami quips, eyes rolling at the most recent story Luffy had explained. He only tilted his head and smiled as if the answer was just so obvious (it wasn't.)
"It wasn't her dream." He smiles, rocking back and for a bit as Zoro finished off his drink before speaking.
"This wasn't exactly our first choice either but here we are." the swordsman smirks, his arms crossed over his chest.
The smirk was soon replaced with irritation when the waiter went to speak.
"That's different. Besides, I'm sure Luffy wouldn't leave a woman like that all on her lonesome. Right?" Sanji questions, more so trying to convince himself Luffy had more sense than that. But the brunette only shakes his head.
"Nope, she said we would cross paths again one day and I let her be. It was a deal! And now I get to wait until one day I see her beautiful face again." And before anyone could protest or pry any further, Luffy stuffed his face with food.
A sigh rang out from Nami as she leaned against the seating of the booth they're in, only to quickly shoot back up with wide eyes. Since Luffy's bounty had got a hell of a whole lot bigger, there was always the occasional run-in with someone who claimed they'd be getting their money sooner rather than later.
On this particular night though, a gang of about 6 or 7 had strutted up to their booth and slammed his bounty on the cracked wood of the table, making it shake. Zoro paused, debating if these idiots were worth the fight and Luffy continued to eat without a care in the world.
"I'm getting that bounty tonight." Then, what they all assumed was the leader spoke, his hand drawing his sword. This could have gotten ugly rather quickly but the fight seemed to be over with the sound of fired shots ringing through the eatery.
It was so quick you'd almost miss it…each shot followed by another, and one by one each of the men dropped like flies, screams and gasps of frightened patrons filling up the space momentarily. From the darkened corner of the bar stood a woman in a rather large coat that almost touched the floor.
The revolver in her hand rattled before she tucked it away into one of the many pockets that adorned her body. She was a decent height, and her hair was pushed out of her face most likely to keep her line of sight from being obscured. Finally, the once look of disgust that was painted over her features was filled with joy as she stepped over the bodies of the men she'd just laid to waste.
"Luffy!" She squeals, practically vibrating as the Stawhat leaped form his seat and embraced the mystery woman.
This wasn't the usual hug though, Luffy had simply lifted the lady and twirled her, his face buried in the crook of her neck and she giggled and tangled her fingers in his hair.
"I'm sorry did we miss something?" Nami quips, looking to the rest of the crew to confirm they were just as lost.
"This is her! Remember the girl I've been talking about!?" He practically shouts, his hand secure at your waist as that iconic smile plays over his lips.
Oh okay it was finally starting to make sense. Two cinimon rolls but one can and will kill you if they so desire...well-
Nami is the first to laugh, disbelief filling her but the closer she looks the more her laughter and smirk dies down. Luffy's hand was firm at your waist, yours on his chest as you flash a content smile.
"Y/n, meet my crew!" Luffy introduces as you jut your hand out happily, meeting that of whom you soon learn is Usopp and Sanji. Nami was next and Zoro simple noddded in your direction.
"You really know how to pick em! Congratulations on this bounty by the way love." You hum, pressing kisses over Luffy's freckled cheeks.
Damn how much love and affection could you give? It was like every two seconds your lips were pressed somewhere against their Captain’s face! And he didn’t seems to mind at all! Well, not that Luffy was bothered by it but still! With one last kiss to your boyfriend’s face, you usher the crew out of the eatery, sliding the bartender some extra berrie to apologize for the ruckus.
The two of you looked so inseparable like that, hands interlinked and swinging back and forth simultaneously.
“You know what this means don’t you. Usopp teases, sticking his hand out awaiting Nami to fulfil her end of the bargain.
She swears in defeat roller her eyes before paying.
Who wouldn’t make a bet on something as outlandish as their captain having a girlfriend!?
#x reader#one piece#reader is black#one piece live action#i don't care he's hot#headcannons#one piece x reader#opla#luffy opla#opla luffy#monkey d. luffy x reader#luffy x reader#opla luffy x reader
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