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#at least i think they're pajamas
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Lmao this show is so cute, but the timeline makes it so funny to me
I don't doubt that being a hitman pays well, but the idea that they've not been working for almost 3 months, and are only just now coming to the conclusion that they need to get back to work?
Full on dumbass behavior.
Why did they even put baby girl in preschool if they weren't going to go back to work immediately after?? Part of the reason she was so destructive is cause they didn't have toys or anything for her, they could've just gone to the store lmao.
Also they're more frugal than I figured they would be considering that bomb ass apartment. As far as I can tell they spent roughly $1000 in 1 month. That's not that bad, I mean, it's not a good trend if they'd continued to not work, but not that bad in terms of overall sustainability for a child and 2 working parents.
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blujayonthewing · 2 years
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holy mother of god I have got to start dressing weirder
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elliewithcellie · 1 month
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Girl, Interrupted
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summary: Eddie crashes by your home when you least expected, but everything happens for a reason, right?
wc: 1.8k
cw: PURE SMUT (MDNI 18+), basically no plot, friends to fwb?, oral (f receiving), Eddie is a tease, fairly bold reader lol, fingering, talk of p in v sex, hair pulling, orgasms idk let me know what else
a/n: my bestie bought me slutty pajamas for my birthday, and since I'm a hypothetical whore, this has been on my mind nonstop. Finally took a break from my spn series to write this down. This is the filthiest thing I've written to date but definitely short and sweet
Eddie’s jaw fell slack as the door opened before him. He knew he shouldn’t have shown up to your place uninvited. Sure, you were his best friend, and of course, you had said he could come over whenever, but that never truly meant unannounced. He was already kicking himself for showing up as late as he did when you opened the door.
Your oh so short pajama shorts were the first thing that caught his eye, how your thighs spilled out beneath them, the cotton begging for relief. His eyes trailed higher to your tank top one size too small. The hem rested just above your midriff, the outline of your hips more prominent than he had ever seen. Your face was flush, pinks and reds lining your cheeks. He fought the urge to pinch himself, scared that he was dreaming, scared that he’d wake up to the absence of you and very real feelings emerging.
“Eddie? What are you doing here?” you asked, your arms crossing over your chest. “I thought you had a date.”
Date, what date? Eddie’s mind was going numb. His brain was flatlining at the mere sight of you, more exposed to him than he’d ever seen you. Fight or flight kicked in, debating on whether to say something or just turn around and leave. He was almost sure he was not supposed to see you in this state.
“I—uhh—it didn’t go well, so I cut it short. But I know you love the place, so I figured I’d bring over the leftovers.”
“Oh, sweet. Thank you.”
Eddie hesitated, scared to ask, but his interest piqued. “Is someone—you’re alone right now, right?”
Your eyebrows pinched together. You exhaled a dry laugh. “Please, I’m always alone. Come in. Tell me about your date.”
You ushered Eddie inside and settled into your couch. You pulled a blanket over you, and Eddie released a sigh. He couldn’t believe the hold you suddenly had on him. It was like he was in high school again, ready to combust at the sight of a shoulder. At least with your legs covered, he was less inclined to think about spreading them.
“Was it really that bad?” you asked, drawing Eddie from his thoughts.
“She was just so boring,” Eddie complained. “Like, there’s nothing wrong with her, but it was like we were from different planets! She didn’t know Metallica! How am I supposed to bond with someone when there’s nothing to relate to?”
“Did you think of showing her?”
“Showing her what?”
“Metallica!” you laughed. “Wouldn’t that be kind of romantic, you know, to introduce that to her? Maybe tell her you’re in a band? It’d be like showing her a whole new world. And maybe you’d get a groupie out of it.”
Eddie swatted at the air. “It’s not worth it. We were both bored. And it was clear she wasn’t looking to rock with a guitarist.”
“Oh, I highly doubt that.”
“You didn’t meet her. She’s pristine, a Chrissy Cunningham type. Meant to be with a lawyer or some shit.”
You leaned in closer to Eddie, your blanket sliding down your thighs. “Those are the girls who fantasize about guys like you the most. Those girls on the straight and narrow, the ones who seemed destined to be sweet stay-at-home moms or perfect career women, those are the ones who dream of just one night doing something they never thought they could. Something so wild that when they’re taking their kids to soccer practice, or their ‘perfect husband’ is asleep on the recliner while they're doing the dishes, they can think back to that wild night when they fucked a rockstar.”
Eddie’s lip trembled as chills coursed through his body. You leaned back against the couch and shrugged like what you said was nothing. You had to be on something, he decided. Never had you been so frank when the topic of sex came up. Your face was still flushed with color, and you couldn’t seem to find a comfortable position on the couch, shifting yourself from one side to the other to no specific rhythm. Heat radiated off of you, though you weren’t known to be the furnace between the two of you. Something struck Eddie as so foreign but so familiar as he took you in.
“Would you fuck a rockstar?” Eddie found himself saying.
Heat rose to your cheeks. “Do I seem like one of those straight-and-narrow girls to you?”
“That’s not what I asked,” Eddie said, a newfound confidence overtaking him. “You came up with that way too fast to act like you don’t think of it, too. So, would you fuck a rockstar?”
You bit your lip and shifted in your seat. You huffed into the couch. “Wouldn’t anyone?”
“Why so shy all of a sudden?” Eddie asked, egging you on. “You’ve been squirming since I got here, sweetheart. Is something on your mind?”
Your eyes trailed from his eyes to his lips, then back to his eyes. “Tonight is not the night to ask me that.”
“Why is that?” Eddie chuckled. “Were you in the middle of something? Was something left unfinished when I so rudely interrupted? And now all you can think about is the ache between your legs?”
You shuddered at his words. “Eddie,” you said, your voice shaking.
“I could help you.” Eddie leaned closer, his words almost a whisper. “Because I may not be a rockstar, but I’m sure I could give you the night of your life.”
Your breath hitched in your throat. “Don’t tease me. It’s not funny.”
“No one’s laughing.” Eddie pulled the blanket back, his hands resting on your thighs. Your legs slightly opened on instinct. “What kind of friend would I be, huh? If I didn’t at least offer?”
Eddie didn’t know where this bravado came from, but he didn’t care. All he knew was the longer you looked at him like that, the harder he got.
You grabbed him by his shirt and forced his lips on yours. Nothing soft or sweet came from your lips. You were needy and desperate, clinging to him like he was the air in your lungs.
The urgency shocked Eddie, but he quickly found your rhythm. He smirked against your lips as he pulled his jacket off. His hands snaked from your thighs to your hips to your ass, lifting you onto his lap. You groaned into his mouth as he rolled you against him.
He was sure he was dreaming now. Only there did he ever picture you above him, grinding your hips into his. Only there did he imagine you moaning from his touch. But never were his dreams this vivid, this real, this fucking good.
He pulled you from him and pushed you back onto the couch. You whined at the loss of contact. He’d never seen your eyes so dark, so lustful, so hungry for him.
He slid down to the floor onto his knees and pulled you to the edge of the couch. “You still want my help, sweetheart?”
You nodded emphatically.
“I need to hear you, baby. Say it.”
“Please help me, Eddie. I need you. Please.”
“Atta girl.”
You lifted yourself up as Eddie pulled your shorts down your legs. Eddie’s cock jumped at the sight of you. He bit his lip to maintain what little composure he had left.
“Aww, your poor little pussy’s just as needy as you, isn’t she?” He spread your knees apart, the cold metal on his fingers sending chills up your spine. The throbbing between your legs only intensified, a small whimper escaping your lips.
Eddie couldn’t wait any longer. There was no time for teasing, no time to explore. You needed him, and he was going to deliver.
He dove into your aching pussy like a man starved. You jumped at the contact, your hands flying to his hair. His tongue worked overtime, kitten-licking your clit before diving in for more.
“You taste so good, sweetheart,” he said, smiling against you. You moaned in response, grabbing a fistful of his hair and pulling him closer.
Your sounds turned him on even more, searching for his own release as he rubbed himself against the couch. His mind was in a daze, in utter disbelief that anyone could look so perfect for him with your legs spread and your back arched. Your chest rose and fell to the rhythm of his tongue, and your lips formed a perfect ‘o’. Oh, how Eddie wanted to feel your lips around his cock. How you’d sink down on him, your perfect innocent mouth being completely sinful just for him.
He placed a finger at your entrance and pumped in and out, his thumb now circling your clit. Your head fell back. “God, yes, Eddie. Just like that.”
“I need you to do something for me, baby,” Eddie said as he added a second finger.
“Wha—what’s that?” you asked, breathless.
“I need you to tell me what you think of when you get off. Tell me what you were thinking of before I showed up at your door.”
“I—I oh god,” you shouted as Eddie’s lips found your clit. “I—I thought about you on your fucking date.”
“Oh fuck,” Eddie groaned into your pussy, the vibrations shooting up your spine.
“I pictured you fucking her from behind, her skirt hiked up to her hips, her panties to the side as you fucked her in front of the bathroom mirror.”
“Fucking C—Christ,” Eddie stuttered, his hips rutting into the couch faster. “Keep going.”
“Then it was me you were fucking. You grabbed me by the hair, so I could watch what you were doing to me,” you said, your voice shaking with every word. “Eddie, please. I’m close. Please.”
“Come on, baby. You can do it. Tell me what I was doing to you.” He was past dreaming at this point. He was sure this was heaven. Hearing your words had him reeling. He didn’t want to stop, didn't know how to stop. He just knew he needed to see you come.
Your lip trembled. “Your hands were all over me, playing with my tits, your lips on my neck, and—and your big cock pounding into me over and oh-ver and—and Fuck! Eddie, don’t stop! Please, please, please!”
Your orgasm crashed down on you, expletives and Eddie’s name on your lips. Eddie continued to pump his fingers in and out of you like a madman as he lapped up your cum.
“Oh god, oh fuck!” he moaned against you.
You pushed his head off of you and caught your breath. Eddie took a breath, too, leaning back against his heels. You pulled him back up to you and kissed him, tasting yourself on your lips.
“That… was so hot,” Eddie said, releasing a breath.
“Can it be my turn to help you?” you asked, looking up at him through your eyelashes.
Eddie’s cheeks rouged slightly, his eyes trailing to the growing wet spot on his jeans. “I had a turn already,” he said, guilt painting his words. He leaned in toward you, a devilish smirk joining his features. “But I’m not done with you. Not yet.”
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lis-likes-fics · 1 month
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Casual
Pairing: bff!Eddie Munson x Reader Word Count: 12.3k words Warnings: NSFW, smut, protected sex (birth control), virginity loss, friends with benefits, Eddie talks you through it, constant consent, humor during sex, Eddie calls you "mama" but no mommy kink, fondling, slight hair pulling, oral (f!receiving), fingering, multiple orgasms, a million different positions, slight edging?, L-bombs but not romantically, swearing... A/N: So I wrote this as a best friends with benefits thing and not a best friends to lovers, but the line gets blurry sometimes with besties. I really fucking loved this one because they're like...they literally never stop being besties, they're so fucking dumb, I love them. So yeah, this is platonic in the least platonic way possible, and I love that for them. Thank you so much and enjoy! A/N #2: While I was writing the first author's note, my typing kept popping my ears. *cries in adhd like a little bitch*
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Eddie finds you in his bedroom doorway moments after hearing the front door close. He half expected Wayne to be coming back home early from work, but that didn’t make sense because he only left an hour ago and he probably would have called ahead.
But, no. You stand there with damp hair from a fresh shower and dressed down in some shirt you stole from his drawer and pajama pants. He raises a brow. He hadn’t been expecting you, but he isn’t surprised in the slightest. He doesn’t even bother to move from his spot, leaning back on his bed with an arm behind his head and a book in his hand.
“Hey, there,” he mumbles.
You stare at him for a while, saying absolutely nothing. You don’t seem particularly pleased. He stares back. Neither of you move.
“I’m upset,” you finally say, still staring, still standing.
If Eddie’s remembering correctly, you’re supposed to be out on a date. So hearing that you’re upset isn’t necessarily pleasing to him. Judging by the time, you should have had a very entertaining night. But apparently not.
He’s the first to move as he lets his book fall down to his lap. “Why?”
You think for a moment and then drop your stuff at his door, walking inside as you use your foot to close the door. There’s a long pause between speaking, as you use it to walk around his room and look at all of his stuff. “It’s sort of embarrassing.” You pick up a random pepper shaker on his desk, swirling it around and then turning on your heel to look at him.
He’s got his head tilted to his shoulder with a look on his face that reads “seriously?”. He sits up, lifting a brow. “I’ve seen and learned a lot about you since we became friends, so I doubt there’s anything you could do or say to embarrass yourself in front of me.”
You roll your eyes, licking your lips as you set the pepper shaker down again. “Okay, well…” you trail out, trying to decide how you want to tell him. “You know how I had that date?”
He puts his book away, crossing his legs and leaning back on his elbows. “The drive in?”
“The drive in.”
“What about it?”
“Well…” you sigh. “Okay, so…” You lick your bottom lip, trying to form the words. You’re never shy in front of him, so there must be something wrong. You chew on your lip, thinking to yourself with a heavy sigh. You plop down onto the bed next to him. “God, so, we got there and the movie was fine and whatever–” you roll your eyes, “–and we watched most of it but at some point, we started, like, kissing, and whatever, right?”
Eddie shrugs, laying back to stare at the ceiling as you continue to recount your night. “Yeah.”
“And it got a little…”
He raises a hand to prompt you, “Hot and heavy?”
“Yeah.” You look down at your lap where you fiddle with your fingers. “So we drove away somewhere more…more private?”
He looks at you, sitting back up enough to fully see your face as he smirks lightly. He gives you this devilish look that makes you want to hit him. “Did you...?”
You nod a little. “Yeah.”
Swallowing thickly, you watch his face shift as he takes in your demeanor. His head slumps to one side, his smirk falling off his face. “Oh…” he mumbles. “How do you feel?”
You stare at him. He can see you mulling over your response as you struggle to find the right words. Despite yourself, you feel a knot tying itself in your throat. You force it down and away, pretending it’s not there and hoping it’ll help. And it does…for now, at least.
“I’m upset.”
He cringes a little, lifting an arm to give you a place to lean into him. “That bad?”
You bury your face in his shoulder and pout. “Yeah.” You pull away suddenly. “I mean, I know everyone’s first time sucks ass and whatever, but, like…” You drop your head in your hands, wiping at your face as you find yourself glad for washing your makeup off earlier. “Eddie, I didn’t even…”
He almost seems offended. He doesn’t care about announcing it because you’re alone and also it’s outrageous. “You didn’t cum?”
“No!” you exclaim. “I…faked it.” You’re almost disgusted with yourself for it. It sort of just happened in the moment. He was clumsy in trying to get you there, but it wasn’t working. You just wanted to end it off and move on, so you just…made the sounds and the faces. He seemed pleased enough. “I feel kinda bad. I mean, he was sweet and all, and he, like… He tried, but…”
His question is crude with as little hesitation as humanly possible. Again, he doesn’t care about being awkward or guarded because you’re his best friend, and you’ve talked about worse, and there’s no filter with you. “How big was he?”
“Eddie, what?” Usually you wouldn’t mind his brashness, but you’re still trying to get over the events of a couple hours ago.
“Honest question,” he shrugs. “I just wanna know. Was he like…” he lifts his hand, squinting his eyes and hunching over and pinching his fingers together, “little?”
You shrug. His bluntness is rubbing off on you. You feel a little less awkward and you hunch a little less. “He was fine…just a little too…short? To reach?”
He makes a face, like he’s shocked and disgusted. He looks you up and down almost like it’s your dick. “That’s rough,” he says. “How many times did he cum?”
“Why do you assume he came?” you raise a brow.
He rolls his eyes with a scoff. “Please, guys always cum.”
You roll your own eyes and push yourself off the bed. You’re roaming his room again as you mess with all of his stuff. You open his drawer and ruffle through his unfolded clothes, you pick up empty beer cans and turn up your nose at the smell, you strum the strings of his acoustic. You do all of this instead of looking at him when you answer. “Twice.”
“Oh.” You fake disgust when he looks at you, smirking and bobbing his brows at you. “You must’ve been really fuckin’ nice.” He makes this weird growling sound, and the “ew” that comes out of you is guttural. He snorts happily, and then his humor is gone as he deadpans, “Or he’s a lightweight. Did he cum inside?”
You’re sick of him.
You shake your head. “I made him wrap it.”
“Aren’t you on the pill?”
“Yeah.” He hums.
He watches you lean back against his desk, looking at this weird mask he had just sitting among the chaos. You move it around in your hands and force down the heat in your throat at the recounting going on in your head. Swallowing it down is a hard task that ultimately fails as he watches you begin to choke on the unshed tears.
He sighs, his chest warm with a bitter emotion as he watches your waterline threaten to spill over. “Oh, c’mere.” He stands from the bed, opening his arms wide to pull you into a bone crushing hug. It’s warm and it hurts and it feels so nice. He smells like he always does, green apple shampoo stolen from your house and cheap cologne and cigarettes. It’s a nice smell.
“I guess I like…I don’t know, I expected a little more. It was…really disappointing.” A couple of tears manage to get past you, and it pisses you off but you’re already over it. “I wanted…to get rid of it, and now it’s gone but it doesn’t feel like anything’s changed, but it also feels like everything’s changed, but not in a good way.”
He rubs your back, listening to you as you need him to listen. “I’m sorry,” he mutters when you stop. He sets his chin atop your head after a kiss to your forehead. Part of him wants to square up with the dude you went out with, but he sets that urge to the side in order to comfort you. “That fuckin’ sucks, and you deserve so much more.”
After a moment, you pull away from him, wiping at your face with a huff. “It’s stupid.”
“S’not stupid.”
You don’t argue, you just throw yourself onto his bed, laying flat on your back with your arms and legs spread so wide that you take up nearly all the space left. Eddie watches you lay there with your eyes closed and your breath slowed. He thinks you’re really pretty, especially right now with you wearing his shirt. He almost hates himself for thinking to ask–
“Look, it might be…creepy and weird to ask and—Jesus, if I’m being creepy, I want you to fuckin’ punch me s hard as you can—but, shit, maybe I should shut up.”
His rambling is cut off by you, still lounging on his bed. You haven’t moved, your eyes are still closed. You don’t seem fazed at all by his awkwardness. “What are you about to ask me, Ed?”
He sighs, sitting next to you with his foot shoved underneath him. He sets his hand on your thigh. You still don’t move, used to his touchy-communication. “What happened tonight fuckin’ sucks–”
“You say ‘sucks’ a lot.”
“It’s a nice word.”
You peek at him through one opened eyes. “You’re weird.”
“Nevertheless–” You laugh. He watches your belly tense as you do it, rolling over to sit up and witness his fumbling with opened eyes. “As I was saying, before I was so rudely interrupted…”
You laugh again, and he’s happy he could do that for you, especially after your rough night. You’re happy you could ease his worries, because he was being awkward, and Eddie isn’t usually awkward with you, and you know he likes your stupid jokes.
He takes a breath and starts again. “What happened sucks, and—only if you want to—I would be willing—if you’re comfortable—to…fix it for you.”
You raise a confused brow, less confused and more vaguely unbelieving. “Fix it…for me?” you echo.
He shrugs. “I don’t like when you cry, and I want to make you feel better. I’m not a total expert on sex, but I think I know my way around it pretty well.” He puts his hands together like he’s going to pray and points them toward you. “If you want…I can help.”
You raise a brow and stifle the smirk threatening to grace your lips, ready to tease him in order to push down the flush of heat rushing through you. “You wanna fuck me.”
He raises his hands. “I want to fuck you if you want me to fuck you. To help. But I’d love to fuck you… if you want…me to fuck you.” There’s a pause. “Maybe.”
You look away, scratching your head in thought. “Since when have you wanted to fuck me?”
He smacks a hand down onto your thigh just to do it. “Babe, it’s always been on the table. All you had to do was ask.” Whore.
You roll your eyes for the millionth time. “You’re such a guy.”
He shrugs like he doesn’t care at all. “Like I said, guys always cum.”
You raise a brow at him, shoving his hand off your knee to stand again. You jab an accusatory finger into his chest. “Is that to insinuate that you’ve cum thinking about me?”
“I– Okay, I did not– Listen here, you little shit.”
You laugh out loud, still pointing at him to make fun. “I’m kidding!” He fake laughs, and you return the favor by tilting your head and questioning him further. “But have you?”
To avoid it being awkward, he just shrugs nonchalantly and answers the question. “A couple times.” It works, even though you flush at the answer.
“What? That is so weird!”
“That is not weird.” He hopes you ignore the way his cheeks turn pink, powering through it with more brashness and more jokes. “It is completely normal to think of your best friend when you’re cranking one out.”
You shake your head definitely. “No, it’s not.”
He challenges you. “Have you ever cum thinking about me?”
Without turning your head, you glance away from him. “I don’t think that makes it normal.”
“So you have, is what I’m hearing.” You turn to him quickly, raising a finger as you try to speak over his ad libbing. He thinks he’s really funny, and it’s gonna make you scream.
“Listen–”
“Listening.”
You huff, glancing away and then looking back at him. Well, not really him, but the ends of his hair over his shoulders. “Maybe once or twice…” you shrug, “Maybe even thrice, but that’s not–”
“You little freak!” He points his finger at you, his whole face wide with amusement.
“Hey– Be nice to me. Or I’ll cry. You don’t like it when I cry.” You pout to give him a preview. You’re sure you could summon more tears if you really need to…
“You’re evil,” he shakes his head, looking up at you with a huge grin.
You bob your brows. “Yes, I am.”
He surprises you. In the next moment, his arms are wrapped around your midsection, and your feet lift off the ground. He takes you in his hold and turns you until you’re being slammed into the bed. You laugh as you bounce, squirming around to push him off of you as he pins you under his weight. Both of you are giddy with the amusement, laughing at each other and playing along with the other’s fun.
When you open your eyes and the laughter dies down, you realize that he’s actually pinning you to the bed. It sobers you up almost immediately, and you realize that he’s really close. He could kiss you right now if he really wanted to. You notice the exact moment he realizes it, too.
You gulp and take a breath for courage. Your voice is small—awkward—but it’s okay because he’s your best friend. “You can…” you mumble. “You can help, if you want to help.”
His eyes glance at your lips, and then he raises both his brows as he looks back at you. “You want me to?”
You nod, trying not to hold your breath to avoid dulling the charged air between you. “Yes, I want you to.”
He tilts his head and the tips of his hair tickles your cheek. “Is it because I have you pinned?”
“It helps.”
Eddie backs off of you, sitting back on his bed to allow you to sit back up. You do, crossing your legs underneath you. He thinks for a moment, watching you as he does. There’s a long pause where the both of you contemplate something, unsure if the other has the same thing in mind.
“Before we do anything,” he breaks the silence carefully and articulately, and you can see the moment that all his seriosity has set in, “I need explicit permission. And you gotta let me know how you’re feeling. I don’t wanna do anything to make you uncomfortable.”
You listen intently, nodding along as he lays down the rules. “Okay,” you say.
He tilts his head toward you, looking up at you through his bangs. His brown eyes are so pretty. You’ve always thought so. They’re so warm and loving, just like him. It’s the reason you became his friend in the first place: because he’s warm and loving. “S0?” he prompts, snapping you out of your thoughts.
You take in a deep breath and smile, lifting a hand and slowly setting it on his own. “I want you to have sex with me, Eddie.”
He visibly shudders, and you think he’s a sucker. Technically, he is, but whatever. “Jesus,” he mutters, running his free hand through his hair. Then he smacks yours away, and your chuckle turns into a snort. He always knows how to make you comfortable. “Okay.”
You turn your body to face him, clearing your throat. “So… How do we…?”
“Okay, so…” He makes a “shoo” motion with his hands, so you get confused and raise a brow. You slowly and hesitantly lean back onto your elbows, staring at him with all the silent questions you can muster. He rolls his eyes. “No, get up. Sit over there, whore.”
You roll your eyes at him in return, moving to sit at the head of his bed with your legs crossed in front of you. Playfully, he rolls his eyes yet again and shakes his head at you like he’s disappointed. Eddie turns to lounge across the foot of the bed, propping himself up on his elbow. “First, I want you to walk me through everything he did.”
“Okay,” you mumble, thinking back to what happened in that car. “Well, he kissed me. We made out for a bit, and then he pulled me into his lap.” You only glance at him as you speak, but he’s so nice about it that you don’t feel so weird talking to him about being poorly fucked. “And he took off my shirt. He was, like, moving my hips and stuff.”
“Okay.” He listens so closely. His full attention is on you and only you, and it feels nice.
“Then he, uh, he played with my nipples. You motion vaguely to your chest.
“Did he use his mouth?” he questions gently.
“Mhm.”
He shakes his head then. He’s still gentle but his tone leaves no room for argument. “You gotta say yes or no, sweetheart, or I’m not touchin’ you.”
That’s fair enough. “Yes.”
“And it felt good?”
“Yes.” It almost sounds like a question, but he understands what you mean.
“Okay,” he gestures toward you. “What else did he do?”
You think for a moment. It’s already becoming a little fuzzy as your mind becomes distracted by the thought of Eddie, your sweet, idiot Eddie, doing these things to you and making it feel good.
This is the same boy you’ve seen fall out of his van because he tripped on the step and totally ate shit hitting the ground. This is the same boy you’ve seen stuffing his face with marshmallows because he was dared to by Mike and Dustin, and he was trying to prove that he could do more than they originally dared for him.
This is also the same boy you’ve seen absolutely shred his guitar with some fingering skills you’ve been envious of. And the same boy who’s seen you cry a million times and wiped away all the tears with plenty of jokes and compliments and threats of violence as were humanly possible. If there’s anyone who can make you feel good, it’s him.
You shake the thoughts away in order to get them straight. “He laid me down on the seat,” you remember, “and took off his pants and stuff.” You don’t really need the “and stuff” but it does make it a little easier…for some reason.
He furrows his brow in question, tilting his head like he’s grossed out all of a sudden. “Okay?”
“And then he…” you stare at his Dio poster across the room, “put it inside.”
He lifts his lip in disgust. He’s done that a lot tonight in response to this guy. “That’s it?” he asks with more distaste than you thought possible.
“What do you mean?” you furrow your own brow this time.
“Baby,” he says effortlessly, like he’s said it a million times before (because he has), “there wasn’t even foreplay.” He sits up, “No wonder you didn’t get off, girls need foreplay. Guys don’t need shit. We just think about tits, and we’re hard.” He shrugs, “I’m thinking about tits right now. Hard as a rock.”
The face you make transcends the rolling of the eyes or the upturn of a lip as you scoff. “Eddie–”
“You gotta be built up,” he continues, brushing past his comment like he never said it to begin with. You consider his words, taking them as the truth because he knows way more about sex than you would. He’s no prodigy, maybe, but you’re barely out of your virginity, so he’s got more advantage than you. “Did you blow him?”
You glance up, a bitter tone in your words as you mutter the first part, “Between positions… yeah.”
You don’t think “disgust” fits anymore. He’s just annoyed and entirely displeased. “You blew him, and he didn’t blow you?”
“I thought the term was ‘eat me out’.”
He shrugs a shoulder absently. “Symmetry.”
You airquote your response. “Okay, ‘symmetry’.”
“You didn’t answer my question.”
“Yes,” you reply finally, still tasting traces of your toothpaste in your mouth. “I blew him, but he didn’t blow me.”
Eddie makes a guttural sound to try to properly express the amount of offense he takes to this. “You know what, fuck this guy.” He leans forward, placing both his hands on your knees and holding them there as he stares at you with those big, brown eyes of his. “Don’t worry, sweetheart, I got you now.”
It’s easy to take humor from that to avoid dealing with the arousal it sends through you. “You’re real confident.”
He’s not pulling back on anything, he has no reason to. He somehow becomes more intense as he effortlessly response, “Because I’m gonna fuckin’ eat you out like my life depends on it.”
“I–” There’s no way you can respond to that. “Oh. Uhm.” Your mind is immediately a jumbled mess of fantasies and incoherent words and more fantasies. There’s a heat between your thighs and an anticipation in your belly that makes it difficult to think.
“Relax,” he catches your sudden daze. He pats your thigh like it’s just something that he does and not a preface to him pulling them apart and having a feast. “You’ll be fine.”
“Okay.”
He gets up, stretching his arms high over his head to pop his back. You can’t help the way your eyes fall to the slip of his belly, spying a tattoo hidden away there underneath his shirt. “I’m gonna go take a shower.” He eyes you. “You don’t need any infections.”
You turn your lip up because you think he’s disgusting. “That’s gross, Eddie.”
He points at you. “But considerate.”
You get up specifically to push him away from you. “Go shower, you dirty whore.”
He winks at you. “Yes, mama.” You don’t know how to respond to that. “Get comfy, I’ll be out in a bit.”
You swallow thickly, trying not to dissolve into some pathetic puddle because he called you “Mama”. You’ve never been into that before, and all of a sudden, you can’t get the sound of it out of your head. He’s already long gone, leaving you alone in his room as you sit on his bed to wait for him.
You’re a total goner, you’re sure.
~
You’re going through more of his stuff by the time he comes out of the shower. You glance over your shoulder at him after the door closes, and you’re almost surprised by what you find.
It’s not like you haven’t seen Eddie shirtless before. The sight isn’t unusual to you, but given the context and the way his sweatpants hang low on his waist, giving the perfect view of his gentle V-line, his soft tummy. It’s a mouthwatering sight, and it’s taking everything to look away.
His hair is still dripping. The dampness is giving his curls a gentle shine in the lamp light in the room. He rubs his towel haphazardly through his hair as he speaks. “I know I’m gonna take them off anyway, but–”
He stops short when he finally looks up to see you. You’re rummaging through his drawers like the little thief that you are, your hand stopped somewhere in the second drawer in favor of watching him. But that’s not what makes him pause. It’s the fact that you’re in one of his shirts, one that goes down past the curve of your ass and stops short before even reaching your mid-thigh. Your legs are bare—you’ve discarded all your other clothes somewhere in the room and left yourself in some underwear and his shirt.
He always knew you were sexy. As your closest friend, it’s his duty to know how sexy you are, but this is another level and he doesn’t understand why.
Instead of pointing out the fact that his sweatpants are growing a sudden bulge, he gestures to the shirt. “Are you gonna steal that?”
“Yes.”
“Okay.” He scratches the back of his neck, tossing his towel onto a chair stuffed in the corner of his room. It’s stacked high with clean laundry that he never got around to. He pays no mind to it when the towel and a couple of clothes fall to the floor immediately after.
Eddie takes a breath before he looks back at you. “C’mere,” he mumbles, raising a finger to make a come hither motion. You listen to him, walking over to stand in his space. Your hands rest at his sides because you always rest your hands at his sides, and, naturally, he holds you back.
“Remember,” he begins in a quiet voice (or as quiet as Eddie can be), “you gotta use your words. I gotta know if I’m hurting you, or I’m doing too much or too little.” His thumbs stroke your elbows. “You know your body better than anyone, but I’m gonna do my best to know it even more than that.”
You chuckle playfully. “Okay.”
“And you definitely, definitely have to let me know when I’m doing something right.”
“So you’ll keep doing it?” you guess.
He shakes his head and says in a flat voice, “No, to stroke my ego.”
You roll your eyes, and your humor is interrupted by his hand lifting to touch your cheek. You lean into it because his hands are warm. “You still wanna do this?” He’s completely serious, and a little nervous now as he looks at you.
You nod, raising one hand to wrap around the back of his neck. “I trust you, Eddie.”
He nods, mostly to himself. “Good. That’s good.” His tongue darts out to lick his lips. “That’s great,” he raises his brows. Then he sighs, glancing away from your intense gaze. “Let’s hope I don’t fall in love with you or something, or you’ll be getting your back blown out every night and twice on Sundays. Jesus H. Christ.”
You roll your eyes and shake your head at his ridiculousness, almost forgetting that he’s probably completely serious and you are about to fuck as you play into your banter. “You’re so–”
You don’t get to finish your sentence. You’re cut off by Eddie’s lips engulfing your own, warm and soft and really nice against your own. You let out a long breath, pulling him closer by the back of his neck as he takes a step forward into your space.
To be completely honest, you’ve kissed Eddie before. You’ve kissed him on a dare, you kissed him to trick people into thinking you’re dating. Hell—he was your first kiss because you and some friends were screwing around and then you happened to be picked to be locked in a closet for seven minutes because you were at a stupid party playing stupid games.
So the sensation isn’t completely new, but the making out part is. Eddie is a really good kisser.
When he pulls away, you aren’t really expecting it. He seems pleased by your daze as he bobs his brows. “So what?”
Instead of answering him, as you’ve forgotten what you were going to say, you kissed him again. It’s really nice, kissing someone. It’s nice to be this close, to breathe each other’s air, to taste each other’s lips. His tongue grazes your top lip, and you lean into it, because you trust him and it’s nice.
Eddie keeps you pulled close against his body as he starts stepping forward, keeping you from tripping as he does. The back of your knees hits the bed, and you hold on too tightly as you feel yourself falling backwards. You laugh when you fall back onto the bed with his weight on top of you. He laughs with you, “You’re okay, mama.”
He silences you with his mouth again, enjoying the feeling of your lips on his. He likes it just as much as you. Between that and his little pet name, your mind is swimming and your heart is racing. When he pulls away, it’s only to press his lips to the skin of your neck, suckling and nipping gently at the flesh as he does. You close your eyes, your fingers happily tangled in his hair as you keep him close.
“Mama,” you mutter under your breath, seeing just how much you like it as he nips at your neck. “I like that.”
You can feel him smiling against your skin. “Yeah? Want me to keep using it?”
You nod, “Yeah.” A hum echoes in your chest as he wraps his hands around your sides, lifting you a bit just to put you farther up the bed. He crawls on top of you, one of his knees settled between your legs as his hand caresses your side.
Your breath becomes thin when his hand smooths underneath his shirt, feeling the softness of your skin with a quiet breath. His palm stops at your belly as he slips the very tips of his fingers to rest underneath your breasts, feeling just how warm you are.
“Good?” he mutters, taking your earlobe so gently between his teeth and letting it go.
You nod, your eyes heavy like they’re glued down with sap. “Mhmm,” you breathe.
“Yes or no, mama?” he reminds you, gently kissing your lips.
“Yes.”
He smiles, rewarding you with another kiss as he whispers against your lips. “Good girl.”
You don’t have time to think about that right now. It’s too nice, too fuzzy. It sends a warm flush straight to the pit of your stomach and makes your breath hitch. Eddie knows and adds it to the list of things you like for tonight.
The slightest whimper slips from your lips when you feel his warm fingers reach up to brush your breast, gently groping you as he plays with your peaking nipples. He hikes your shirt all the way up until your bare chest is revealed to him, and he takes them in with an appreciative breath before leaning down to take one between his lips.
It’s much different than the guy before him. Eddie’s deliberate, licking and sucking and so, so gently nipping the bud. It sends a strange sensation through you, lighting every nerve ending and making it impossible to think straight as you keep your fingers tangled in his hair. You keep him close. It feels too good to do anything else.
You speak between breaths, your heavy eyelids and sticky lips working against your attempts to speak. “You’ve seriously cum to the thought of me?” you wonder, whimpering when his other hand comes up to pinch your other nipple between the pads of his fingers.
“Yeah,” he mutters, sucking harshly and making you gasp.
“Why?” you ask, making an attempt at playfulness between the haze of his ministrations. “Am I that irresistible?”
With only seriousness, Eddie looks up at you, letting his fingers take over in teasing you. “Yeah.”
Your grin falters, almost not expecting his answer—or at least the amount of honesty in it. “Wait, really? You’re not just buttering me up?”
He makes a face, a confused one that flatters you more than anything else. “No? You’re fucking sexy as shit.” He tilts his head, “You think I’m lying when I tell you that?” Eddie’s hand smooths down your side, gripping your hip as he goes.
You shake your head, bringing your knee up and sighing gently when his hand slides over the round of your ass. “You don’t have any weird feelings for me, do you?”
He pinches you, and you squirm away from him giddily. “Mama, I’m in love with you, but not like that.” He gently makes your side. “Now stop talking to me. It’s hard to kiss you if I’m talking.”
You chuckle. “Yes, si-”
Your words are interrupted by a tiny moan when his fingers graze the mound of your pussy through the thin fabric of your panties. Your back arches just slightly, the ticklish feeling making quick work of scouring your body.
“Does that feel good?” he wonders quietly.
You nod and bite down hard on your lip. The anticipation of it is eating you up. “Yes.”
“Good,” he lilts, continuing to brush his middle finger up and down the length of your panties until he’s pulling them to the side just enough to see you. Eddie licks his lips, leaning in to kiss your belly. You’re weak against him, trying not to cant your hips up into him and deter his work.
His finger caresses your folds through the bit of slick that had begun to gather there. “You feel the difference?” he asks between kisses.
“Yes.” Your voice is a squeak, and he seems quite proud of himself for making it that way.
“I’m gonna take these off, okay?” he says. “Then I’m going to put my mouth on you. You’ll let me know if I’m doing too much, right?”
You nod. “Yes, Eddie.”
He smiles, “Thanks, mama.” He feels the way you react to that, the slightest flutter of your folds. He sits up just to allow him the access to slip your underwear down your legs. The little, flimsy material comes right off. He drops it to the ground and comes to kneel in front of the bed. You hold your breath when his hands close around your waist, pulling you down to the edge to bring you that much closer to his face.
Instinctively, you close your thighs. It’s hard to will them to open and stay that way with the way his warm breath fans over your skin, his hands touch your body, his eyes stay glued to your own, constantly asking for consent.
You think he’s going to say something smart, smirk at you and chuckle at your shyness. But he does. Instead, he just gives you a calming look and asks, “You still okay, mama? You wanna stop?”
You let out a gentle breath, shaking your head. “No, I’m okay.” You chew on your bottom lip. “Just not used to this.”
“That’s okay,” he reassures. His kindness is honestly making your arousal worse. You feel like you’re going to start shaking if he pulls away from you. “Can I open your legs?”
You nod. “Please.”
He nods back, kissing your knee and smoothing his hands down your thighs, one on each side. The hand on the inside of your thigh dips so slowly between yours, seating deep between them until he’s slowly pulling them apart. The sound your thighs make when he opens them is lewd, it’s the quiet schlick sound that comes from the arousal that seeped out of you. You start to feel embarrassed, but then he sighs like he’s so relieved to see it.
“Tell me why you’re so fucking pretty,” he shakes his head. Your thighs are itching to close as you watch him lean in, pressing his lips to the inside of your thigh, just to kiss you. You bite your lip, nervous and so ready.
But then he stands. “Give me a second,” he says, walking away from you as his hands slide off your thighs. You sit up higher on your elbows, watching in confusion and slight annoyance as he leaves you on the bed.
“Eddie,” you call while he walks to his dresser.
“Hang on,” he smiles. “Jesus.” He does that thing where his tongue sticks out over his bottom lip as he sorts through the junk on his desk. “Not leavin’. Just lookin’ for something,” he mutters.
You fall back on the bed, willing your heart to calm. He makes a sound of success, turning back on his heel to get back to you. You look at him and watch as he cards his fingers through his hair. He pulls it back into a ponytail, wrapping a hair tie around it to make a messy bun.
You flush at the sight because not even a moment later, he’s on his knees again right between yours. “You can’t be serious,” you say.
“Oh, I’m dead serious,” he replies, looking at you excitedly. His hands land on your thighs again, keeping them spread apart as he pulls you again to the very edge of the bed. “I’d say hold on tight, but there’s nothing to hold onto so… Enjoy!”
He dives between your thighs, and the heat of his mouth latches onto your pussy. Your mouth slips open and a deep moan rumbles out of you. Your thighs close around his head as you feel his tongue licking at you, lapping at your folds as he delves between them.
“Eddie,” you call, one of your hands reaching down to touch the top of his head, trying to find some purchase at his hair. His tongue swirls around your clit, and you’re a total goner when his lips close around it and suck. You mewl at the unfamiliar feeling, enjoying every bit of it with an immense amount of pleasure.
You’d expected him to go slow, hesitant little licks against your folds as he worries about overwhelming you. But this is not that. It’s hot and heavy with deep strokes of his tongue and the tiniest nips of his teeth. There’s no way to keep yourself calm. Your hips are tilting up into his mouth, meaning he has to hold you down with his arms wrapped around your thighs.
Eddie seems to be thoroughly enjoying himself. He moans into you, heavy breaths fanning over your skin as he eats you out “like his life depends on it”. Your open-mouthed moans encourage him, especially when you say his name in this high-pitched gasp and slam your eyes shut. Your ankles hook behind him, pulling him in closer.
Eddie’s making the most obscene sounds—sounds worse than what you’re making. He slurps and laps at you like a dog drinking water. You’d call him a whore again if you could think of humor at the moment, but the only thing you want to tell him is to keep going and never stop.
When he pulls his mouth off of you, you whine. He smiles, knowing he’s doing a good job as he shushes you gently. “It’s okay, I’m not stopping,” he says. In the next moment, you feel his hand cup your pussy. “I’m gonna put my fingers inside of you. Is that okay?”
You nod. “Please, Eddie.”
His fingers tease your entrance, though you don’t think he means to. He looks at you as he prods a finger at the seam of your cunt, slowly pushing it in until they part around him. A short “ah” sound is what he hears as he presses his finger inside of you, moving slowly until he’s got it all the way in. “Good?” he checks, the slightest thrusts moving in and out of you as he does.
Your nods are becoming insistent. “Yes, Eddie.”
“You want more, mama?”
“Yes, please.” He loves how polite you are. You’re usually so mean—though, he loves that about you, too. It just means you love him.
He sets a steady rhythm, one that’s still slow as he focuses in on your face, the way it shifts and squints at every little push of his thick finger. It feels really nice, the way he takes his time with you, making sure you feel everything he gives you.
“M’gonna add another. You ready?”
“Yeah.” He rewards you with a second finger, pushing it inside along the first and stretching you out for him some more. He thrusts them in and out, a slow and steady motion slowly building as he massages those inner parts of you. He curls them, and they press against a spongy point inside of you that has you rolling your eyes. “That feels good, Eddie. Don’t stop.”
He smiles at your initiative, giving you what you want with as much enthusiasm as you give in wanting it. He leans in, his tongue darting out to lick at your pussy. You’re wetting his fingers so nicely, making it so easy to slip them in and out of you.
His lips wrap around your clit, and he sucks on it while you whine, while his fingers curl inside of you with every intent of coaxing an orgasm out of you. Little ramblings fall from your tongue as you grind against his. He's greedy in the way he licks around his fingers, over your clit, tasting your arousal as it seeps out of you.
A knot is tightening in your belly. Your hips reach for him with each little nuance of his skilled fingers as you seek out the release he's promising you.
His name comes out as a moan on your tongue. If either of you hadn't been so preoccupied, he would have made fun of you for it. Instead, you're spread out on his bed with his fingers inside of you, a moment away from cumming on his mouth.
Your hips try to lift up into him as you get closer and closer. He holds you down with one arm, his lips and tongue and prodding fingers working in tandem to taste you.
Your ankles hook behind his head as your back arches off the bed. “Eddie,” you whisper. He feels the way your pussy clenches around his fingers, his tongue becoming more insistent in the way it flicks and laps at your clit.
He makes these sounds of encouragement, humming and mhm-ing into you as he goes. Your release is like a burst in your belly, it starts there and swarms into your legs, your chest, the base of your being. Eddie’s tongue keeps licking and lapping at you as your back arches off the bed and your legs tighten around his head. You moan his name as white noise erupts in your ears, the distant murmuring of his words muffled as you try to cope with the pleasure that has begun to set every nerve ending on a wild fritz.
Eddie seems more enthused than anything else by your orgasm. Both his arms wrap around your thighs and hold you down. He actually stands, bending at the way to get closer as he longs to taste all the slick and arousal that leaks out of you. As he sucks on your clit and hums at the way that you taste, you grip his hair and pull him in closer.
But there’s a point where you think you might die if he touches you any more. There’s a gasp in your chest that rips its way out as you push him away from your fluttering pussy as kindly as possible. He leans in again, just for a moment, before he registers your body pulling away from him, notices the way your thighs unclench and your fingers loosen from his hair and your moans and gasps of his name turn into weak whimpers and grunts.
“Fuck,” you huff as you lay back on his bed. You turn onto your belly, crawling up his bed and collapsing into his pillows that spell like him. He watches, licking his lips and wiping his face with a smile.
“I was right,” you mumble, feeling your body coming down like you're floating back to the ground.
“About what?” You feel the bed dip next to you where Eddie sits down. Then you feel him lay back, his head laid out on your thighs.
“You're a whore.”
He rolls his eyes, smacking your leg with the back of his hand. “You liked it.”
“Doesn't mean you're not a whore,” you say. “Just means you're a good one.”
He sits up, moving over you so he's caging you in. His hair has come mostly undone by now, and it's more of a mess due to your insistence on how wonderful he is. His guitar pick hangs down in your face. Your eyes cross and uncross trying to watch it dangle.
“Well, if I'm a whore,” he bends down, his soft lips pressing into your neck as your lashes flutter, “then I'm gonna charge you. It's three dollars a minute.”
You chuckle. “Well, guess what?” He hums. “I'm poor, so no.”
He breathes in through his teeth, shaking his head. “Then I guess you'll have to work it off.”
You try not to be too timid as you press your fingertips to his chest, guiding him back so he's sitting up. You move onto your knees, pulling your arms around his shoulders and relishing his hands on your waist.
“That shouldn't be too hard,” you mutter. You are timid when you lean into him, testing the air between you to make sure it's okay that you kiss him.
When you still haven't made any contact, he nudges your nose with his. “C’mon,” he goads, his lips sticky when he speaks with all the familiar affection between you.
Your lip quirks a bit at his humor. You kiss him, biting his top lip just to confuse him. He laughs and you consider your goal achieved. You run a hand down the center of his bare chest, pausing at the base of his belly to tease the light happy trail disappearing into his sweatpants.
You slip your hand just underneath the waistband of his pants, tickling his skin as your fingers brush the base of his length hiding poorly behind the fabric. He flinches slightly from your touch, chuckling lightly as his hand comes to cup your elbow.
“Did I hurt you?” you ask suddenly, slightly startled by his reaction.
He shakes his head. “No, mama. You just surprised me.”
“Okay,” you murmur, your timid fingers slowly attempting to try again. But he just shakes his head.
“This isn’t for me. This is for you,” he says, pulling back enough to see you.
“Yeah, but,” you lick your bottom lip, “I wanna make sure you’re enjoying yourself, too.”
He licks his own lips as if to remind you that they were just wrapped around your sensitive cunt. “Trust me, I am thoroughly enjoying myself, mama.”
Your finger hooks around the waistband of his sweatpants, a slight pout arising from your face. “Can you take ‘em off, at least?”
His hands are already pulling them down his legs as he teases you. “So needy.”
You roll your eyes. “Shut the fuck up.” Your response falls short. As soon as the last word leaves your mouth, his cock springs from its loose confines and reveals itself.
You flush at the sight of him. You’re not a cock-hungry whore or anything—but if you were one, you think his dick would be a perfect subject for it. It’s not like he has this perfect cock that was hand-crafted by the gods or anything. But you think it’s safe to say that calling Eddie a freak is a valid name.
He’s long, freakishly so. He’s got a nice girth to him, you think, but you don’t know if he’s going all the way in—but, of course, you could be exaggerating. You’ve seen two cocks in your entire life, and Eddie’s is one of them and, admittedly, the better of the two. He will definitely reach.
“What the fuck, Eddie?” you look up at him.
“What?” His face falls slightly, his eyes widening just a bit as he wonders if your comment was good or bad. “What’s wrong?”
“How the hell do you fit that thing in your pants?” You shake your head. “Like, what the fuck is wrong with you?”
He just shrugs, but he’s a little relieved that you’re just being his asshole and not just some asshole. “I think you’re being a little dramatic.”
“How is it supposed to fit inside of me? What is that, like a foot long?”
He rolls his eyes. “I’m flattered—really, I am—but it, most definitely, is not a foot.” He looks down at the erection between his legs. The tip is flushed, and it kind of looks like it hurts. “Seven and a half.”
“What the fuck?” you whisper under your breath. You reach down, brushing your fingers over the tip. He gasps through his teeth, and you watch the way it kicks up in response. “Sorry,” you tell him, ignoring the amusement in your chest. It reminds you of a spring, the comedic kind that goes “boing!”.
“S’okay,” he murmurs. He lifts a hand to your cheek, brushing his thumb over the rise of it as he asks gently and genuinely, “You still wanna go?”
You nod, “Yeah. That monster isn’t gonna scare me away.”
He rolls his eyes. “It’s not that big.”
You shrug. “You know, I heard Harrington’s like that big, nine inches.” You make a circle with your hand, moving it up and down like you’re jerking it off. “You think it’s true?” You bob your brows up and down.
He shakes his head, running a hand down his face as he snickers at you. “I doubt it. He could be one or the other, but both seem a little excessive. Have you seen how tight his pants are?”
“Yeah… you might be right.”
“We gonna talk about dicks, or are we gonna fuck?”
You sigh, shrugging like it’s nothing as you look back at him. “I guess, we’ll fuck.”
He smiles, pulling you closer to him. “Well, then, c’mon, mama.”
You actually giggle, surprising him as you bring a leg to wrap around his waist, pulling the other up to follow suit. He kisses you, his hands supporting your thighs as his dick nuzzles between the both of you, kept warm and wet by the way your folds sit against him as it pushes into his lower belly.
Eddie reaches between your bodies, taking his weeping cock in his hand and stroking himself a couple times with little wavers of breath. You watch some precum spill from his tip, sliding down the bottom.
“You want me to use a condom?” he asks.
You swallow thickly, thinking quickly before shaking your head. “Pill.”
He shrugs. “Doesn’t mean I shouldn’t.”
You’re touched by his consideration but you don’t really want to put into words how much you actually want to feel him inside of you. You shake your head again, kissing him quickly to soften the slight awkwardness in your chest. “I don’t want you to use a condom, Eddie.” You almost whisper it, but he understands.
“Okay, mama,” he whispers back. He kisses you, lifting you up from his lap just enough to tuck the head of his cock at your soaked folds. “You ready?” You nod. “Don’t hold your breath. Breathing makes it feel better.” You nod again.
“Ready.”
You try not to hold his breath as he slowly lowers you down onto his lap, splitting you on his cock as you take him inch by inch. At one point, you’re sure he can’t go any further as you feel him seated somewhere deep inside you. And he’s right, it feels really nice.
Your breath is so light and airy when you sigh against his lips, holding him tight as you bury your face in his shoulder. “Fuck,” you huff, hearing his own breaths pass heavily in your ear.
“Fuck,” he echoes. “Jesus, you’re squeezin’ me, mama.”
You don’t know how you feel about the way this makes you feel, the way it makes you act. Your voice gets sort of whiny, breathy, this little thing in his ear that makes his cock twitch slightly inside of you. “Can’t help it,” you sigh. “So fuckin’ deep.”
He nods, his hands steady and firm at your backside and your arms tight around his neck. “I won’t move until you tell me to.”
You just nod, knowing he’s not going to move until you give him an explicit “yes”. It’s a lot to adjust to. He sits really deep inside of you, and he’s pressing against a spot that makes you delirious with just the pressure the head of his cock puts on it. But when you can’t take the suspense anymore and you’re too excited to see how it would feel, you nod again.
“I’m ready.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay,” he says. “I’ll go slow.”
You nod.
Holding your waist, Eddie begins to thrust his hips up into you. He does as he says and moves slowly, guiding your body in his lap so you grind down on him. A whine falls from your lips at the feeling, and you almost immediately seek out that pleasure with the eager roll of your hips into him.
“Not too fast, not too fast,” he hisses, lightly patting your hip.
You nod into his shoulder, feeling his hands roaming. His arm wraps around your waist, his other arm comes up to hook over your shoulder. He keeps thrusting, moving so slowly and filling you so deep. Following his commands, you roll your hips slowly into him, meeting each of his own movements in a building rhythm.
There's an ebb and flow in the way that you move together. Tiny whimpers fall from your lips, and his heavy breaths join them.
Somewhere along the way, it's not enough. Your insistent hips grind into him in search of more. He feels it in the way you breathe, the way you move, the way you hold him just a little tighter.
“Eddie,” you huff. “C’mon, I need more. Please.”
The way you say it is a little more whiny, a little needier than you intended. It feeds his ego, and he can't help but to lose some of his reassuring kindness. He starts making fun of you because he likes making fun of you, and he thinks that you'll probably eat that shit up.
“More?” His grip on you tightens just a bit. His thrusts become a little jerky, searching the same intensity you are. “You need more, mama?”
“Eddie,” you groan.
He pulls your face from his shoulder in order to look at you better. “You sound so whiny, baby. Like a little bitch.”
You roll your eyes because he's Eddie, and he calls you a little bitch anyway. Grinding in his lap, you tangle your fingers in his hair and tug. A strangled grunt comes out, and you smirk devilishly. “So do you.”
“Har, har,” he says.
“If this is all you can do, just tell me. It's okay if you're a one-pump-chump.”
You like vexing him. He likes when you vex him. But he also likes proving you wrong because he may be doing you a favor, but he can't let you go about thinking he can't fuck.
“Fuck you,” he scoffs. Then he's pushing you onto your back and wrapping your legs back around his waist, slipping out in the process. He towers over you like some wolf, bushy hair accommodating as his necklace swoops down to brush your skin.
“If you want me to stop, tell me to stop,” he says. “Yes?”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
He guides himself back into you, embedding himself within you until you're full. One of his hands grips your hip while the other takes a hold of the headboard. It's this metal thing that squeaks whenever you move. So when he's thrusting into you with a vigor that has grown in the past couple of moments, it's accompanied by the constant whine of the metal. It's sort of funny.
His hips roll into you, waves of pleasure coming with each one. His hand cradles your neck, and you lean into him as he latches onto the sensitive skin of your throat, teeth scraping and tongue licking up the taste of your skin.
One of your legs comes up to wrap around his waist, and you moan as you pull him in deeper. His pace builds into this steady, needy kind of rhythm. The harder he thrusts, the more you clench, and the harder it is for him to stifle his grunts.
But you like the sounds he makes. Sometimes they're these deep groans that rumble in his chest like thunder. Sometimes they're these weak moans that you're pretty sure is him trying not to whimper. And you like the moans so much that you card your fingers through his hair and tug on a chunk of it as his head pulls back. His muscles flex, and his lips part. You watch his eyes flutter, this shocked whimper comes out of him.
“You did that on purpose,” his word and your moan mix together with the thrust of his hips.
“Ah…haha,” you gasp, nodding a little. “Yes, I—Oh, yes, I did.”
“What, are you a top or something?” he wonders, raising a brow.
You shrug, your mind a little blurry with the feeling of his cock shoved inside of you. “Dunno.”
He's interested enough to find out.
Once again, you're being moved around. You whimper when he pulls out of you just to sit you up again. Eddie moves to the head of the bed and pulls you back into his lap. “Let's find out.”
You take him in your hand, lining him up with your waiting lips. As you slowly sink back down onto him, your eyes flutter shut as you feel the way he fills you. And it only gets better from there as you slowly take him farther inside until he’s buried so deep that you can feel him pressing somewhere inside of you that you can’t quite pinpoint.
You’re fully seated on him now, eyes squeezed shut as you adjust to the feeling. Your hands come to rest on his chest, the fingers of your right hand brushing over the demon head on his pec. When you roll your hips and feel the way it presses inside of you, you’re immediately done for.
Your rhythm isn’t steady for a while. You move purely out of an urge to quell this need in the pit of your stomach. As you fuck yourself on his cock, Eddie’s hands hold your waist tightly just to have something to hold onto. You move quickly and without remorse, your head thrown back in pleasure as your hips lift up just to smack down on his lap once again.
For a while, you just grind on him, focusing on that deep spot that shoots electricity through your thighs. This pitiful sound flutters out of you, like a shudder running down your spine as your hands move to cup the back of his neck in your palms. His name falls from your lips with a plea, it’s a weak sound that would bring him to his knees if he wasn’t already on his back.
“Fuck, mama,” he huffs. “Keep going, just like that.”
His hands caress your skin, roaming your body underneath his shirt still draped over you. He hikes it up farther and farther until he feels your warm breasts. “Can I take this off?” he asks. You just nod, muttering an “mhm” as you keep bouncing with closed eyes. He pulls the shirt over your head, revealing your bouncing breasts to him as he takes a hold of them with greedy hands. He palms them, kneading them like he would dough. You just keep moaning as he builds you up.
You don’t mean to, but in an attempt to respond, the only thing that comes out of your mouth is a repetitive “yes, yes, yes” that echoes in the room alongside his own loud, open-mouthed breaths. “Shit, baby. Doin’ so good f’me.”
That makes you whimper, moving almost ruthlessly just to satisfy the rising need in your belly. “Fuck, I need cum, baby,” you whisper, repeating that again and again with each little roll. Eddie wastes no time in bringing his large hand to rest at the juncture of your thigh and your hip, his thumb swirling insistent circles into your clit. You gasp at the feeling, which is way more electric than you thought it’d be.
It becomes a little difficult to think. Visions of Eddie and his hands and your bodies, and the sounds of your slick and skin, and the smell of sex and body wash and cigarettes cloud your mind. You’re on the verge of tipping over the edge, you can feel your fingertips tingling with the wild sensations of your pleasure, so, so close to you now–
Eddie pulls you up from his lap, unsheathing your cunt from him. Your moans and your breaths are interrupted, and this weak cry tumbles from your tongue. He grunts, laying his head back and making this “hmph” sound.
You blindly reach for his cock, trying to guide him back inside of you before he’s lightly smacking your hand away. “Wait, mama, wait.”
“Eddie,” you whine, thoroughly unhappy with the way the growing waves in your belly had begun to retreat. “Please.” You could honestly cry. It had felt so good—you had felt so good, and he’d taken it all away in a matter of a second.
“What the fuck, dumbass?” you huff, looking at him with eyes unfocused with frustration and face flushed with lust.
“You’re so mean,” he says, almost as put off by the failed release as you.
“I was so close.”
“I know.” He sits up a little more, moving you off his lap. Your arousal is coating both of you, your thighs are sticky with it, his lap and his cock is glistening in the dim golden light. “That’s called edging.”
“I know what the fuck edging is. Why are we doing it?”
He laughs at your frustration, and you want to hit him. “Relax, we’re not done yet.”
“Well, hurry up,” you whine, already trying to throw your leg back over his legs. He just swats you away again.
“Turn around.” You would argue, but you’re too horny. So, instead, you turn around so your back is facing him. His hand spreads out along your back, and you nearly squeal when he pushes you down so your face is pushing into his covers. He pulls you up so your ass is in the air, grabbing one of your cheeks and squeezing.
“You still good?” He’s checking up, trying to be nice even though he was just the cruelest he could’ve been.
“Yes, please.” He likes you like this, honestly. It’s fun to see you so needy. It’s just something he can hold over your head.
He lightly smacks your ass, not enough to hurt but enough for your hips to jerk at the unexpected sensation. Immediately, he smoothes the skin with the palm of his hand and hums. He nudges your legs apart, spreading you open for him just enough as he pumps his cock in his hand.
“Just testing out some positions,” he says simply before he’s guiding himself back inside of you. It’s a welcome feeling, one you’re beginning to become accustomed to. Once he’s fully inside, he bottoms out with a heavy sigh. “It’s good to see which ones you like.”
“I like when I’m being fu–”
You’re cut off when his hips thrust into you, an almost cruel snap that makes this filthy smacking sound. You moan, literally feeling yourself melting into the bed as one of his hands comes to fist the sheets by your head. The other holds your waist tight, keeping you steady as he begins to fuck into you.
You really like this position. Being on top of him was so, so nice, but being underneath him is a feeling that makes your brain numb. You wrap your hand around his wrist as your other curls in the bedsheets, mewling feebly with every snap of his hips.
It’s dizzying, having him take you like this. There’s a light sheen of sweat coating your skin, encouraged by the warm air straying in through the slightly opened window. His breath is heavy, and you can hear him grunting every time his hips meet your ass. “Do you like this one?” he huffs, moving his hand to wrap lightly around your neck. He pulls you up from the covers so you can speak, your bodies bumping back and forth in the dance you’ve created.
You’re being kept steady only by your hand on the bed, gripping the sheets tightly. “Yes, Eddie,” you moan. You like saying his name, especially when you feel so good. It’s like a wave through your skin. It falls off your tongue with ease. “That feels good.”
He’s happy you’re happy. He keeps it up, losing his breath the longer he goes as your loud ones mix together in the heavy air of his bedroom.
You’re so glad Wayne isn’t home because there’s no way you would’ve been able to keep quiet. You respect that man too much to put him through this. The loud squealing of the bed certainly doesn’t help.
You turn your head to his arm, pressing your nose to his wrist to smell him. He smells like he always does, cigarettes and cheap cologne, like leather and maybe a bit of metal. But under that, you can still smell it. Green apple.
You kiss his wrist, and something snaps in him. For the hundredth time, Eddie pulls out of you and moves you back onto your back. Once again, you’re looking up at him as he locks you in. There’s a wild look in his eyes that makes you breathless, and when he’s pushing into you again, you moan.
“Right there,” you mutter incoherently when he fucks into you. You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him in closer as you keep your legs spread wide. “Yes, fuck, right there.”
Eddie focuses on that spot, punching the head of his cock into it over and over again and watching the way your eyes roll, your head falling back into the sheets and your hands tightening around his arms. He loves the way your lips part, your soft lips split open by the feeling of him. He bends down and kisses the exposed expanse of your throat, sucking on the skin and nibbling hickeys into your skin.
When he pulls away from your neck with a light smack, you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him down so your bodies are pressed flat together, skin to skin. He ruts into you, pressing his forehead against yours as you both breathe the other’s air. It’s all heat and lust and something else, something hot and heavy.
“I needa cum, Eddie,” you mumble, “For real this time.” You manage to get it out with a minimal amount of stuttering. You’re surprised you were even able to put the sass in it that you managed. He’s made such a mess of you.
His thumb finds your clit once more, and he’s circling the bud with a fervent kind of eagerness. “Keep breathing for me, mama. Breathe in deep.” You do as he says, so much so that you get a little dizzy as the air comes and goes. You buck your hips up into his thumb, your whimper getting higher and higher with each swirl.
You feel a knot curling in your belly, followed by a startling heat. “Eddie,” it comes out almost as a question. You’re addicted to the way his name feels in your mouth. You repeat it over and over, squirming and breathing and tightening your hold on him. He keeps fucking into you, focusing on that spot that makes you see stars as he just thrusts faster until his hips are moving in short, hard spurts.
When the dam breaks, it's with a slack-jawed gasp and a tight embrace. Your whole body tenses, like a coil tightening. It gets hot and hotter and hottest until a band snaps and you're trembling. You moan his name like a cry for help, holding his face between your hands and marveling at the softness of his skin. A brilliant shudder makes its way through your body, the quivering of your limbs making it impossible not to whimper and whine at each little shake.
Eddie helps you through all of it, keeping his in and out pace until it becomes unsteady with the fluttering of your pussy around his cock. Your mouth latch onto one another, more heat and lust and longing to fill the space between you as you recover with a dizzying head and buzzing veins. Loud and sloppy smacks accompany the ones coming from your hips, still meeting with the last sparks of your orgasm and the drive for his own.
His steady thrusts are unsteady now, just tiny little pumps of his cock inside of you as his breaths build into gasps just as small. You’re already coming down from your high, and your whines are sounding a little different now as you tilt your head to the side and hold onto his arm, the punch of his cock bordering on an overstimulated feeling after trying to recover from the large crash of your orgasm.
“Eddie,” you whimper, one hand still splayed across his cheek.
He pulls out of you suddenly, peeling his hand off of you to grab his cock. He tugs harshly at it, bucking his hips into his hand until he’s spilling out over your belly in warm spurts, these shuddered moans coming with it. “Oh, fuck, mama,” he whimpers in that sticky tone, burying his face in the crook of your neck as the last ropes of cum coat your skin.
There are a few moments where there’s complete silence—save for the sound of a car here and there, or a dog barking in the distance, or some people laughing even farther away, or your heavy breaths huffing between you two. Your fingertips caress the skin of his cheeks, drawing patterns into his face as he simply enjoys it with closed eyes and settling breaths.
When Eddie sits up, he takes your hand to pull you up with him. You both sit on his bed, looking down at your bodies now sticky with his cum, though his isn’t the only fluid sticking to your skin. Your thighs make a wet sound whenever you move.
You run a hand down your face, sighing heavily. “Jesus Christ,” you mutter, popping your toes. Eddie watches you stretch your arms over your head, enjoying the way your tits look when you do.
“So I did good?”
You look back at him to see the way he watches you, his brows bouncing with a sly grin on his face. You roll your eyes, not looking at him as you chuckle. “Yes, Eddie, you did good.”
He smiles wide.
Eddie stands from the bed, and you watch the way he sort of limps from his room. You can’t help your grin at the sight. At least that means you did good, too.
Eddie returns with a wet cloth in his hands, which he uses to clean you up first, wiping away all of your slick and his cum and even some of the saliva from your neck left behind by his sloppy kisses. He takes care in the way he does it, paying such close attention to you to ensure you’re just as clean and comfortable as he wants you to be.
When he’s done with you, he wraps his hand gently around your throat and pulls you in for another kiss. You lean into it. His kiss is like air in your lungs, and you sigh gently. Then he disappears again and comes back clean (and still deliciously naked—you enjoy the sight of his chain link tattoo curling around his upper thigh). He rustles through his drawers, pulling out another shirt, this one clean and not somewhere on the floor.
“You’re staying over, right?” he asks, as casual as ever as if he hadn’t just cum all over your stomach.
And, just as casually, you nod and turn onto your stomach to stretch again. “Mhm.” He tosses the shirt at you. It lands on your head, and you don’t move to put it on just yet. He picks up his sweatpants from the floor and puts them back on.
Eddie nudges you to the side so he can pull the covers back, and that’s when you sit up to put on his shirt. You stand, padding across his tiny room to turn off the lamp on his dresser, shrouding the room in relative darkness. When you climb back into the bed, you latch yourself onto his back and hold him to your chest. He’s really warm, and it feels nice to be this close.
Sometimes you wonder if you and Eddie are supposed to date. There’s nothing casual about your friendship, and there never really has been (especially not now). But you think that having Eddie as your best friend, perhaps just under unconventional circumstances, is the best thing there is. If you ever decide to get together, that’ll be a moment for a time in the (relative) distance.
For now, you just rest your ear against his back and listen to his heartbeat. “Eddie,” you mumble, bringing your leg up to rest over his body like he isn’t bigger than you.
“Yeah?”
“Thanks.”
There’s a huff that you think is him chuckling. He pulls a hand up and pats yours a couple light times. “Anytime, mama.” There’s some silence. “I love you.”
You smile. You love your best friend Eddie.
“I love you, too. G’night.” He hums back at you.
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2K notes · View notes
shotmrmiller · 7 months
Text
currently doing one of my most hated chores which is laundry and it got me thinking.
It's bloody laundry day again. You've got no extra clothes to really wear apart from a loose, grey, too thin pajama shirt and the shorts it came with.
Tragic, but not the end of the world. No one goes to wash their clothes looking like they're right off the runway. And it's also far too early for the laundromat to be packed.
You'll survive.
Slamming your trunk closed, you straighten and wipe the sweat that's beaded on your forehead. Damn muggy air. Even at this hour, the weather chooses violence.
Pulling the door open, you step inside and hiss out a breath through your teeth. In here it's not any better. And there's only one big fan on, out of the many that are in here.
God you hate laundry day.
At least it looks empty.
Tucking your hair away in a makeshift, sloppy bun, you drag your dirty clothes basket to a washer and throw them in.
Next is your detergent and when you pick up the fabric softener, it's almost empty.
God fucking damnit.
And the person that sells stuff isn't in behind the desk.
Slamming the lid closed, you kick your hamper into against the washer and walk toward the cursed fan that probably only circulates the hot ass air in here. But with the way your pathetic shirt is turning damp and sheer from the sweat, and short strands of hair that are starting to glue themselves to the back of your neck, worse is nothing.
And then you're standing in the corner of the laundromat, getting hot air weakly blown into your flushed face. "Goddamn it's hot. Useless fucking fan is just here for decor, i think."
"Ah think so too."
You choke back a scream and spin on the balls of your feet to the deep, accented voice behind you.
A muscular pretty boy with hair the color of damp soil and blue eyes that sparkle brightly, even under the dim light of the place sits with his back to a washer that's currently going.
Devastatingly handsome. And you've been throwing a hissy fit for the past half hour, only to appear in front of him resembling a drowned rat.
Flatlining right now would be great.
"Damned hot in here, alrigh'. Isnae tha' so, Simon?"
Who? Oh no.
How you missed that behemoth is beyond you, but he rises from the ground like a slumbering giant. Ash brown choppy hair and dark, sharp eyes with the rest of his face covered by a black cloth mask. 6'4 at least, and built like bloody fridge.
Someone kill you now.
"Johnny."
His piercing eyes cut to you before flicking back to the man on the floor.
"Get the detergent."
"Aye." Scottish, it sounds like.
You briskly walk away from them two, face burning with embarrassment, back to the washer you're using.
Today of all days, you come across these two. You could cry, honestly.
They're there for as long as you are, and you've long since gotten past your self-consciousness. If you have to melt in this stifling heat for one more second, you just might scream.
You grab your clothes from the dryer with haste, haphazardly throwing them in your basket and with a quick, 'Have a good day!', you're out the door.
As you're about to get in your car, the scot comes bustling out the front door of the laundromat.
"Lass! Ah think these're yers."
What he holds in his hands has tears springing into your eyes.
Undergarments. Why the hell is he-
You can see the tall brit leaning on a machine, with his arms crossed and he's looking right at you.
The walk of shame to the pretty one is almost unbearable. Your trembling hand reaches for your garment. "Thank you."
He chuckles under his breath. "Anytime. See ye around."
How mortifying.
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sugawhaaa · 3 months
Text
ATEEZ X READER
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Just want attention, fuck this tension
{{Part 1}}
Warnings::SMUT
Genre:: nipple play, teasing, that's about it for now
Pairing::ot8!ateez! X fem!reader
A/N:: Tumblr decided to enrage me and POST THIS EVEN WHEN I TOLD IT NOT TO. So now this is going to be split into two parts 💔 I am so mad rn
You knew what you were doing was quite terrible. This job was almost like a last resort that you managed to get through pretty privilege. You basically kissed your human decency away as soon as you agreed to the job. You were going to be a sex toy for the one and only ateez.
They're all grown men after all but they don't have time to meet women and actually hook up with them. Sure they can often go to clubs but they get tired really quickly from all the partying that comes along with it. They just needed someone they could casually have sex with whenever they wanted and somehow the company agreed to let them pick out a girl to ask. You were that lucky girl and today was your first day as…a whore.
Considering the circumstances you were given a key to access their house and a room of your own to live in. It wasn't much and of course you'd be allowed to leave quite frequently but when night rolled around you were completely and utterly theirs.
You hesitantly stuck the key into the door and pried it open to find the house empty and quiet. You called out softly into the empty room. “Hello?” You step into the entryway and shut the door behind yourself. You put the keys back in your bag and saw a little space where they put all their jackets, shoes, purses, and bags. You slipped off your shoes and set them in the pantry before hanging up your bag. Their house was fancy yet it still held this homey aura. It was calm and cozy but when you got to the kitchen you noticed a pile of dishes that were probably put off for days due to their busy schedules. You decided to put some calm morning music on as you did the dishes for them almost as if to say thank you for letting you into their private life.
Midway through doing the dishes you heard someone stirring away. You had to mentally prepare yourself to talk to them and try not to sound creepy for letting yourself into their house. A tired Hongjoong stepped into the kitchen, startled to see a woman in their house. “Good morning,” you smile with pink cheeks.
“Morning?” Hongjoong chuckled as he walked up to you. “You must be Y/N right?”
“Yes,” your eyes scan his body up and down. “No one answered the door so I thought I'd just…” your words trail off as the embarrassment sinks in.
“I don't blame you,” Hongjoong swished his hand, brushing off your embarrassment. “So, have you done this kind of job before?” He crosses his arms, raising a brow. He wanted to get to know the girl he'd be offering to his members, perhaps even going for a test drive.
“Well not necessarily, I'm not a…virgin but I haven't had many jobs that would include a skill list of these things,” you chuckle and finish rinsing the last dish. “The way the company described it, it didn't seem like I had to have any previous, serious, experience,” you explain as you start drying dishes. Hongjoong seems interested in your words, leaning against the wall and nodding. “It sounds like I'm mainly just to be used…for my body,” you explain, avoiding eye contact. Hongjoong was bare faced, with messy hair and still in his pajamas. This was enough to make any woman fold.
“I see why you would think that,” he starts before walking over to you. “But, I at least, don't think of you like that,” he smiles. “I want to spoil you, I want to care for you,” Hongjoong gently brushes his hand on your shoulder comfortingly. “I want to give you all the attention you deserve,” he brings his hand from your shoulder to your chin, making you look up at him. He smiles softly as he analyzes your features. Then you hear the sound of someone clearing their throat.
“Ya done?” San stands with a mug of coffee and a purple housecoat draped around his body. His hair was also messy, spikey almost, and his bare face was going to make you do backflips. Hongjoong chuckles and turns to San.
“San, meet Y/N. She's the girl I was talking to you about the other day, our little dove,” he pats the back of your head as San walks over to you. It was clear San wasn't fully awake, not in the right headspace, as he analyzed you.
“She's pretty,” he smiles softly before walking off to make some breakfast. As the morning goes on the members all arise, most of them are in similar conditions as the first two. Two of them however wake up full of energy, Wooyoung and Yunho. Wooyoung is over the moon excited to have a girl in their home to hang out with, sexually or not he's excited. Seems like not only Hongjoong was excited to have a girl to watch over. Yunho was nervous at first but he quickly adjusted and got comfortable with you.
Wooyoung was the main one to show you around their humble abode. It wasn't massive but it was homey. On your little tour you finally met Mingi. He was in the washroom with the door half open, brushing his teeth without a shirt and sweatpants. That was something you were going to have to get used to when living with a bunch of 20 year old men. Mingi was unphased, giving you a little smile and wave. You could only blush and wave back. Wooyoung then dragged you down the hall telling you which room was who's and helping you settle into your own room.
Their house was kind of split in two. Furthest to the left you had a hallway with a bathroom and five rooms, one a massive storage room. Then there was the massive living room with beautiful windows. On the other half of the building it was much the same. Five bedrooms, one a guest room, one washroom, the kitchen and dining room. In between both sides was a gaming room or just a place to hang out. Their house wasn't the cleanest you've seen but it was very clean for a kpop group you must admit.
After your encounter with Mingi, Wooyoung took you to the living room with a TV and a very long couch. Wooyoung sat you down, gave you the remote, and asked if he could get you a snack or drink of sorts.
“Give the woman a minute to breathe,” San ruffled Wooyoung's hair, leaning over the back of the couch. You were startled by his sudden voice and turned to look at him.
“Yeah don't worry so much Wooyoung she'll get used to it all,” Jongho said, sitting next to you with a plate of breakfast.
“Dude, how many times do we have to say you shouldn't eat in the living room,” San sighs with a shake of his head. You watch back and forth as the members converse. The members were quite entertaining even when they were just talking like this. Surprisingly the day went on quite normally for them, or at least a normal vacation day for them.
After lunch you went back to the couch and opened your phone. You went to the notes app and started writing down some speculations about each member. Based on the conversation you had with Hongjoong he seems to be leaning toward the dominant type. He's definitely got a possessive side to him and maybe even controlling in some ways. He could potentially have a thing for “daddy” type prompts, but it's definitely not set in stone.
Seonghwa so far is a closed and locked book. You haven't talked much with him and he doesn't even really seem interested in you. Not a good sign, that's for sure considering your job is to make them want you basically.
Yunho was shy at first but quickly got used to you after some small chatter. He is pretty mysterious right now but something tells you he's gonna be an interesting card in bed. He definitely knows what he's doing.
Yeosang is also kind of a mystery. He doesn't talk much which doesn't give you many leads at all. The less a person talks to you, the less you get to grasp their personality and make some guesses on the intimate life. He seems pretty shy and timid which could leave the door open for being dominant with him. Or he could be the type of guy who's all cute and rainbows until they're pounding into you. Once again, he's a mystery.
San is pretty relaxed, a chill vibe flows from him. This could be brought into intimate hours as well. He's probably the type of guy who likes lazy sex or pure intimacy and love. Something deep downs telling you he likes spoiling his girl as well but there's no actual lead to that yet.
Mingi is a wildcard as well. He wasn't shy at all when you saw him half naked but that means nothing about him. You get the vibe from his energy that he's pretty rough in bed, doing all kinds of kinky things but deep down he's gotta have a submissive side. There's no way he can't.
Wooyoung is a gleaming ball of energy when it comes to you. Whether he's excited to fuck you up or be fucked by you is once again a mystery. The first time with him will probably go something like, you touch one part of his bare skin and he'll shatter beneath you.
Jongho seems to not really care much for you either, which is also bad. But you can't ignore the way he acts with you. He may treat you like a big sister most of the day but there were odd times where he'd look your body up and down in a hungry way. He's interesting for sure…
As you type out these notes you feel eyes peering over you and turn to see Mingi intently reading each word. Your face turns red and you shut off your phone. Mingi looks up at you with a frown.
“Hey I just started reading mine,” he pouts and you sigh in relief. How embarrassing would it be if he got to read his own.
“Good,” you retort back and he gasps, over acting way too much.
“Oh you wound me princess,” he puts a hand to his head and you sigh. Mingi chuckles before leaning closer to you again. “So you think Hongjoong has a daddy kink?” He tilts his head and you instantly freeze up.
“W-Well it's just an assumption, I don't know for sure yet. These are all things just to test out,” you explain and Mingi nods.
“Well I can say for sure that Yunho's is pretty damn accurate,” he smiles and looks at the TV. He takes the remote from the side tables and turns it on. “Yunho is a huge flirt when he's alone with someone he likes. From what I've heard and seen he seems to be kinda rough as well,” Mingi informs you as he scrolls through Kdramas.
“Why are you telling me all of this?” You raise an eyebrow as you turn your phone on, writing down all of Mingis comments on Yunho.
“Why not?” Mingi shrugs and you hum. Yup that sounded like a good answer. You turn your phone off and shove it in your pocket. You stand up before turning to Mingi.
“Does it matter which washroom I use?” You chuckle and Mingi shakes his head. You rush to the washroom and try to compose yourself. These men were going to be the death of you. Constantly creeping up on you and blinding you with their good looks. You needed to get a grip, it was your job to be flirted with, used and essentially fucked. You needed to get yourself together. While you wash your hands you look over at their shower. Maybe it'd be a good idea to get a shower and clear your head. You nod to yourself and dry your hands.
When you exit the washroom you look down the hall to Hongjoongs room. You gently peer in with a little knock. Hongjoong looks up at you from his phone. He takes off one headphone before saying “hey Y/N, what's up?” He smiles and you chuckle softly.
“Hey uhm would it be alright if I got a shower?” You smile.
“Of course,” he says as he stands up off his bed, taking off his headphones and leaving them on the bed with his phone. “Here I'll help you get it ready,” he offers and you thank him kindly. He gets you a towel and hangs it up for you before telling you how the shower works. The shower head had three different modes but the temperature handle worked like any other. He shows you the shampoos and conditioners they have that you can borrow. They get a lot of samples of stuff from skincare and haircare places for you to use. He nods before closing the door. “Have fun,” he laughs and you laugh back.
“I'm sure I will,” you smile before undressing. You turn the shower on to test the temperature. Absolutely scorching, perfect. You use the sampler hair products and borrow some of Hongjoong body wash that he said you could use. When you got out of the shower you used the prepared towel and as you dried off your hair the scent of the ateez members filled your lungs. The towel smelt just like them and it made your heart skip a beat. It's a no-brainer that the towel would smell like them, or more so their laundry detergent, but it felt amazing. You felt like a part of their crew now. You dry off and wrap the towel around your body snugly
You turn the shower on to test the temperature. Absolutely scorching, perfect. You use the sampler hair products and borrow some of Hongjoongs body wash that he said you could use. When you got out of the shower you used the prepared towel and as you dried off your hair the scent of the ateez members filled your lungs. The towel smelt just like them and it made your heart skip a beat. It's a no -brainer that the towel would smell like them, or more so their laundry detergent, but it felt amazing. You really felt like a part of their crew now. You dry off and wrap the towel around your body snugly. You collect up your clothes and phone before walking out to your room. When you open the door simultaneously, one of the bedroom doors opens. Yeosang innocently looks at you, his eyes traveling down slightly.
Yeosang chuckles before running off to the kitchen. You brush it off and go to your room. You dry your hair, brush it, put it up and start unloading some more things from your bag. For today you didn't bring much but in time there would be much more in your room. As you unpack the scent of cooking meat fills your nose. It's not long after you hear a knock on your door and Seonghwa creeps the door open.
“Dinner is ready,” he smiles warmly. He was wearing a cozy sweater and his hair was half put up by a claw clip. Strands of his black hair remained in his eyes and face. You thank him and go out to the dining room. San from the kitchen asks you how much and what you'd like.
“We have bulgogi set out on the table but we also have some glass noodles and mandu back here because somebody couldn't choose just one thing to eat tonight,” San scowls at the younger two members. You chuckle and ask for a mix of everything. San comes out with two plates in hand. As he puts the plate in front of you, you can't help but notice his muscles in his tight black shirt. Your eyes linger over his pecs for a moment before he sits down next to you like a smile. You look up at his face with pink cheeks and he playfully raises his eyebrows before digging into his food.
On the other side of you was Wooyoung. You look over at him eating before shifting your gaze over to Seonghwa who was looking right back at you. His chin was tipped down and he looked up at you with hooded eyes. You blush and look away but unbeknownst to you he doesn't. Next to Seonghwa is Hongjoong, eating elegantly but quickly. On the other side of Seonghwa is Yunho, sophisticatedly eating his food as well. You pick up your chopsticks and look down at your food before hesitating.
“Do you not want this?” Wooyoung looks at you with worried eyes, gesturing to your plate.
“No, no I'll eat it, it's fine,” you smile and bring your chopsticks down to your glass noodles, mixing them around.
“Here try some of the mandu,” Wooyoung picks up some Mandu from your plate and holds his hand under it, in case anything spills or he drops it. “Open~” he smiles and you hesitantly do as he asks. You open your mouth and he guides the food into your mouth. Your eyes widen. The flavors dancing on your tongue. “Good right?” He smiles and takes a napkin, wiping your chin and bottom lip from the soy sauce. You nod with a smile and you can feel a gaze piercing your soul from behind you. You swallow your food and go to pick up your glass. San picks up the cup before you can.
“No, no, let me,” he sits up and gently holds your chin, guiding the rim of the cup towards your mouth.
“I-I can do it myself san,” you chuckle with pink cheeks as the members watch the kdrama unfold.
“Stop talking or you'll choke,” San chuckles before bringing the glass to your lips, tipping it up so the water flows into your mouth. He pulls the cup back and lets you swallow. He smiles, satisfied with his competition with Wooyoung. Wooyoung clears his throat before continuing to eat. You look around awkwardly before continuing, the entire time you could feel their eyes on you, especially Seonghwa's. His gaze didn't feel the same though. It felt more predatory.
After finishing eating Wooyoung and Sans antics don't cease, only begging for your attention more. You stay at the table in respect, waiting for the rest to finish. San brings his hand up to your hair, brushing it out of your face. “Your hair is so soft dear,” he smiles and Wooyoung frowns.
“Don't put your hands in her hair, you just finished eating. What if you get soy sauce in her hair?” Wooyoung interrupts your intimate interaction.
“You put your hands all over her face when you were feeding her,” San crosses his arms. Hongjoong groans and leans back in his chair.
“You two stop bickering,” Seonghwa chimes in. “Or take it to another room. Everyone's finished eating now,” Seonghwa says before taking a sip of his water. San and Wooyoung mumble under their breath before parting ways.
“I'm going to workout, you wanna join Y/N?” San leans over the back of his chair as Hongjoong starts collecting up the plates.
“Thank you but I'm good, I need my food to sit for a while,” you smile and put your hand to your stomach. In truth, seeing San in that state might just make you go feral, lose your train of thought and act on impulse. San shrugs and heads to the active room. You help the two eldest members clean up after dinner and as the night grows near you feel butterflies stirring up in your stomach. You needed to talk to them about what they wanted to do to you but how could you casually bring that up? After contemplating for a while you go to Hongjoongs room, knocking on the door as you enter cautiously. “hongjoong? Can we talk for a minute?” You ask and Hongjoong instantly helps you into his room.
“Sure Y/N, come in,” he smiles and guides you to his bed before shutting the door behind you. “What's up?” He asks softly as he sits next to you on his bed.
“Well I have been thinking about plans for tonight,” you explain and Hongjoong nods. “There are many ways we can go about it but…I thought it'd be a good idea if I started with you,” you explain and Hongjoong turns to you, surprised by your offer.
“As honored as I am to be your first out of all the members, I have to say…I think it'd be best if we talked to them first,” he smiles and brings a hand up to your hair. “All of them want you so bad, they can hardly control themselves. Myself included,” Hongjoong laughs.
“Really? Even Seonghwa and Yeosang?” You look at him surprised and he nods.
“Of course, especially Seonghwa. Have you not seen the way he's been looking at you? The poor guy can't keep his eyes to himself,” Hongjoong laughs. “During dinner he kept staring at your chest and lips. When you helped us clean up his eyes were glued to your ass, attentively watching it,” Hongjoong chuckles as he calls out his friend. You blush, shocked to hear such things about seonghwa. “Trust me all of the members are going crazy over you,” he smiles and twists a strand of your hair around his finger. “Why don't we call them all out to the living room and we can talk?” Hongjoong proposes. You nod softly and Hongjoong kisses your cheek before standing up. You're taken aback by the sweet gesture but quickly follow after him.
You eventually get all the members together in the living room and Hongjoong gets the ball rolling for you. “So our little dove here wanted to know what approach you guys wanted to try tonight,” Hongjoong explains as he looks at you. “I know you're all itching to give her all the attention she deserves but we need to be gentle with her at first remember,” he reminds everyone and you blush. They made you feel so delicate and cherished.
“We could start with something simple to ease into it, just start by stripping and getting comfortable with touches and stuff,” Yunho proposes and Hongjoong nods his head.
“That's smart. What do you say Y/N?” Hongjoong turns back to you and you smile with a little nod.
♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡SMUT♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡
“We can start now if you want,” you stand up with a smile. Hongjoong blushes but eagerly agrees. You stand in front of the surprisingly large crowd of men before taking off your shirt, pulling it off your head. Most members have a similar reaction, hungrily watching, except for one. Yeosang sitting on the furthest side of the couch, nibbling on his nail or finger tip while he bounces his knee. His eyes are glued to you but he seems more nervous than the rest. You pull off your socks and unzip your jeans, pulling them down until they pool at your ankles. You step out of them and put your clothes in a small pile on one of the furthest ends of the couch.
“You wanna stop here or keep going?” Jongho asks as you set your clothes near him.
“Let's stay like this for a while,” you chuckle before sitting back on the couch. Their couch was large, definitely enough to fit all of you with a lot of room to spare but suddenly Seonghwa and Hongjoong were sat closer to you than before. The other members all leaned forward to see better and you chuckle softly. “Don't be shy, you can move around to see better if you want,” you chuckle and Jongho instantly does as you suggest, sliding off the couch and sitting in front of your knees. You chuckle softly before feeling a hand come around your back to your waist. You turn and see Honjoong eyeing you up as he strokes your skin.
“Your skin is so soft baby,” he whispers in your ear, making your skin crawl. Seonghwa is suddenly unable to control himself. He leans down and bites your neck, sucking on the soft skin. You let out a small gasp at the feeling of his teeth and mouth on your skin. He begins to roll his tongue around your sensitive skin. Hongjoong is still rubbing your back and waist, searching for a soft spot or a weak point. Jongho just watches intently, watching all of your little reactions. Your eyes flutter shut from the feeling of their hands on you, their bodies pressed against you. You then hear whining. From one of the maknaes.
“Why do you guys always get to go first,” Wooyoung whines. You chuckle as he pouts.
“You can come over Wooyoung,” you smile as you look over at him.
“But where would I touch you? Seonghwa has your neck Hongjoong has the other side of your neck and your torso and Jongho is in the way of everywhere else,” Wooyoung crosses his arms and Jongho scowls at him.
“We'll make room,” you smile as you wave your hand for him to come closer. He Saunters over and you encourage him to sit on your lap. He sits down, embarrassed by how submissive he looks. You kiss his lips softly and he looks at you wide eyed. The two of you make out while you feel numerous sets of hands coursing over your body. You've lost track of whose hands are who's. You feel a hand, most likely Hongjoongs, come up to the back of your bra. He undoes each clip, one by one, giving you time to refuse if you wanted to. Finally all the hooks come undone and your bra loosens off your body. Surprisingly San is the first one to slide it off of your body.
His hands come around from behind you, sliding the silky fabric off your shoulders. He pulls it off your body before throwing it in the pile of clothes. Seonghwa instantly moves his lips from your neck to your chest. He circles his tongue around your nipple, biting it softly, licking all around the plump skin. His right hand comes up to your opposite breast, pinching and sandwiching the nipple between his fingers, occasionally groping the your entire boob as well. This leaves an opening for San to come in and bite at your neck, leaving his own marks before whispering in your ear ever so softly.
“We're going to make you feel so good tonight baby,” he smirks before running his fingers through your hair. You lean back as your eyes flutter shut. So many touches, so many lips, teeth, pinches, it was all so much but it felt like heaven itself.
As the group of them shower you with kisses and attention Yeosang and Yunho sit to the side. Yeosang seems a lot more shy and reserved than Yunho. Yeosang has a pillow brought up to his face, hiding himself, but his eyes are still glued to the scene in front of him. Yunho on the other hand is leaned back as he watches, his erection straining against his pants.
Yunho would hate to be the one to take things too far or move too fast but he can't resist discreetly touching himself through his pants. Yeosang glances down at Yunho but quickly adverts his eyes.
Mingi is on the other side of the couch from Yeosang and Yunho and he is barely keeping himself together, doing very similar things as Yunho except more discreetly. Mingi moves his hips slightly making his erection rub against the inside of his boxers.
You can physically feel the arousal growing in the room. You can taste it, you can feel it, you can hear it, you can smell it.
The group of men surrounding you start getting into as well, their bulges impossible to ignore. The pure lust in the air begins to engulf you, falling into the fantasies, bending to their will. Hongjoong is the first to initiate the real sexual touches. His hand trails down to your panties, gently searching for your clit. He feels the bud and presses down on it, electing a gasp from you. Hongjoong smirks widely knowing he's found the spot but Wooyoung remains in his way. Hongjoong removes his hand before pushing Wooyoungs chest lightly.
"I can't touch her when you're in the way," Hongjoong whines, and Wooyoung reluctantly joins Jongho on the floor. Jongho loves the sight above him, soaking in your lustful scent while watching the way your body squirms beneath the member's touches. Wooyoung on the other hand, not so much. He feels discarded, he wants to be the one touching Y/N, he wants to be the one making her whimper and squirm.
Hongjoong goes back to what he was doing, rubbing up and down your wet folds through your panties. "She's so wet already," he grins. "Look at her~" he cooes and the members are intrigued. Seonghwa is still occupied by your tits and San can't even see your core but Jongho and Wooyoung get a perfect view.
"Damn," Wooyoung says, hypnotized by the wet patch on your panties.
"Spread those little legs baby, show the Maknaes how wet you are for Daddy ~" hongjoong whispers into your ear making your stomach flip upside down and your pussy throb even more than it already was. Mingi catches wave of Hongjoongs words and runs over to you, sitting next to Jongho. to see your wetness, slightly nudging him. Mingi curses under his breath before extending his hand
"Hey we've been waiting patiently this whole time and you just barge in here and start feeling her up?!" Wooyoung whines but Mingi tunes him out entirely.
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robo-writing · 8 days
Note
I saw your requests were open, so I have to ask for… pain 😔
Can I request a Logan x afab!reader HCs or full fic about how reader is getting older and he kinda isn’t yk? Like going from when they first met, to readers deathbed, and how he has to live without them for the rest of his life 🫶🫶
Also take care of yourself DRINK WATER 🥰
Oh yeah, it’s angst time.
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It's sooner than later that you'll be alone Synopsis: You live a long life, but not as long as Logan's. Warnings: 3.2k words of gut-wrenching angst, mentions of blood, grieving someone after they're gone Author's note: Hope you're happy anon, I cried five times writing this <3
He had first met you in your twenties—twenty-three, to be exact.
Young, bright eyed, naive. You were kind, where he was not. You were hopeful, where he was jaded and angry at the world. He loved your innocence, how you always saw the best in others—suppose that’s what made you such a good counselor to the children. You listened—really, truly listened—made anyone that walked through your office doors feel welcomed.
Maybe that’s why he found his way to you. When the nightmares wouldn’t let him sleep and the voices wouldn’t let him think, he shuffled to your bedroom door without a goal in sight, bare feet padding against the polished floors. His knuckles meet your door, seconds passing by before he asks himself why the hell he’s even here in the first place.
Before he could walk away he heard your feet shuffling, followed by the click of your doorknob.
He felt guilty for waking you up, eyes red and face puffy, but you didn’t even question why he was at your door, just rubbed your eyes and opened the door wider for him to walk in.
It was silent at first. You offered him some water, passed him a blanket, and just sat there. You never pressured him to speak, and he didn’t feel compelled to. Maybe five minutes later he said something and you just nodded in his direction, encouraging him to continue.
For the first time in a long time, he talked. And you listened.
It became a ritual between the two of you, staying up late at night just to chat. It wasn’t always about his past, sometimes he just needed to let it all out, and you were the perfect outlet. He felt like you didn’t judge him, and that’s all he ever needed.
Eventually he wanted to hear you too—he preferred it that way. Talking about lesson plans and movies, little things that seem mundane but made him feel less like a patient and more like a friend. You were a welcome distraction, and an added bonus was that you were really cute when you were talking.
He was the one who made the first move. He remembers every detail, from your pajama shorts to the over-worn tank top sliding off your shoulder, your eyes bright as you went on about a new baking recipe you wanted to try. Sat on your bed, looking so relaxed he couldn’t help but stare and marvel at your beauty.
“Logan?” You ask, waving your hand in his face. “Hello? Earth to Wolverine?”
The moment you called out his name he was already making his way to your bed. The mattress sinks beneath his weight, and you let out a soft noise of surprise before he plants his lips against yours.
Yours are soft compared to him—everything about you screams softness, innocence and purity, and he’s not sure if a man like him even has the right to be next to you, much less kiss you. He’s certain his soul is filthy, tainted—a layer of black that’s sure to muck up your own if he keeps this up. He knows this deep in his heart, but greedy man that he is, he keeps his lips locked to yours.
Once, and then never again. He can’t be with a girl like you, and he knows it.
You hold him by the neck and pull him back when he tries to leave your embrace. Maybe it’s pity, he thinks, the way your hands tug him by the shirt and cling onto the fabric. Maybe you’re only entertaining him, stringing him along just to laugh in his face, mock him into ever thinking he had a chance. If you are, he doesn't care, because at least now he’s got a taste of what he could never have.
The two of you finally separate, a silk-thread of spit connecting the both of you, looking at each other with a mixture of shock and confusion. What happens after this? How does he return to what you had before—how can he, when he now knows your chapstick tastes like cherries?
He makes a move to leave, but against all odds your hand is still clinging onto his shirt. In that moment he knew he was the luckiest man alive because you begged him to stay in that cute voice of yours, begged him not to leave when his hands made their way up the front of your shirt—begged him for more when his lips wandered lower.
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By your thirties you already had a shiny ring on your finger, one that he can say he proudly put on your finger. A gold band adorned by diamonds, it shines in the orange light of the sun, staring at you from its red-velvet housing. 
It’s the first time the X-Men see him cry, tears running down his face when you run into his arms screaming yes, yes, over and over as he holds you in his arms, sunset illuminating your features. He always thinks of you as beauty personified, but watching you admire the diamond-studded band with awe—the one thing that signifies you as his—he can’t help but look at you like icarus does to the sun.
The wedding was small—neither of you minded. Hank was the ringbearer, and Charles walked you down the aisle, and when your vows were said and done the priest could barely finish the ceremony before Logan lunged forward and kissed you, dipping you at the altar accompanied with a cheer from the people you consider your family.
Scott has the video saved on his phone. He pretends it pisses him off, but he had Jean send him a copy later. Sometimes he watches it when he thinks you’re asleep, but little does he know you are very much awake.
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In your fourties’ you have a house together, somewhere upstate where no one can bother you. A cozy wooden home where it’s just you and him, relaxing by the fireplace and watching tv every day. When he’s not helping the X-Men he works at a local lumber yard, the highlight of his day being when he comes to work, grabbing his equipment from the truck. 
His co-workers jeer at him every time, call him whipped like butter, but they wouldn’t understand what he feels. He certainly doesn’t seem to care, especially when it’s your kiss pressed to his cheek.
He can safely say his life is perfect. It’s domestic, it’s everything Logan ever dreamed of, everything he thought he could never have—and it’s all thanks to you. He wakes up every morning grateful to you for giving him the greatest gift he could ever receive: serenity. 
Between the fairytale ending and his rose-colored glasses, he doesn’t notice it, not until you’re in your fifties and he’s—he’s not.
You’re aging, and he’s staying the same.
You still love each other and he’d never, ever, think about leaving you, but the realization sticks with him. He thinks about it late at night while you sleep next to him, pressed against his side. Your scent, your touch, he memorizes it all because he doesn’t know when he won’t be able to feel it again.
In your heart you know it too, but you don’t say anything—you don’t want to scare him away. He’s only just begun to get used to normalcy, and you don’t want to take that away from him. You don’t want to watch him fall into the honeyed trap of isolation again, return to that shell of a man you only just helped him shed.
So when you’re watching tv together, he makes sure to cradle you to his chest extra tight. When you’re sitting by the fireplace, heat radiating off your skin, he makes sure to memorize the way the fire illuminates your face. When you’re whispering his name after a night of love-making he etches the sound deep into his synapses, memorizing each syllable.
No matter what, he’ll remember you.
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By your sixties you’re faced with an awful truth, one neither of you want to admit but your smile lines and crows feet stand contrast to his barely aging face. You get stares when you mention he’s your husband, some curious, some judging. You were called a cougar once by a shopper, finger pointed accusatory while Logan told her in no uncertain terms to go fuck herself.
He was there to reassure you then, but he can’t be there all the time. You don’t tell him that this wasn’t the first time you were accused of being a predator, and you don’t plan on doing so. 
Maybe this counts as acceptance, faced with the truth in the worst kind of way, but at least the both of you can say it out loud now—
You’re going to die, and he’s going to outlive you. It’s just a fact, but it still makes the both of you terrified.
Your seventies are rocky—you want to enjoy the time you have left, but Logan wants to make sure you’re safe. In his eyes you know he has only love for you, but you can see the fear in them too, how he coddles you every day. Your bones are starting to ache, you’re getting slower. Where you used to go on hikes with him you now choose to stay home, your stamina not like what it used to be. He thinks you don’t notice how he watches you carefully around the house, how he’s so eager to help you. You’re flattered, but also annoyed—it’s a short-lived train of thought when you look at him.
He still looks at you like he did when you first kissed. 
He still loves you, and you still love him. For now, that’s all you need.
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He finds you on the floor in your eighties—eighty-three, to be exact.
The moment he sees your resting form behind the counter he sprints into the kitchen. There’s broken glass, a trail of blood running from your temple, and you’re completely out of it, eyes closed shut. He calls your name, shakes you, but nothing. He knows you’re still alive, he can hear your heart beating but he can feel how weak it is under his clammy hands, the soft thump nowhere near as strong as it should be.
He doesn’t know what to do—he’s long since been familiar with blood but this time it’s you, and he’s panicking. He doesn’t know what to do.
The ambulance arrives, longer than usual because you live far away from the city. Maybe if they’d gotten there faster they would have been able to do an infusion. Maybe if the phone wasn’t so far you’d be able to call 9-1-1 before you passed out. Maybe if he was at home he would’ve been able to see the early signs—
“Sir? Are you alright?”
He looks at the clock on the bedside wall: 7:38 pm. 
It’s well into the night, five hours have passed since you were admitted, and an hour since you died.
He’s been staring at your body for who knows how long. The doctor pronounced you dead, said you had a heart attack and hit your head on the way down. An accident.
A fucking accident.
“Sir, was she related to you?” The young nurse asks, contemplating whether or not she should even speak. Wordlessly, he nods.
“I understand you’re grieving,” she continues, standing at his side. Her words are full of empathy, none of which he needs but lets her speak anyway. “I saw on your hospital logs you share the same name, I can’t imagine how it must feel to lose a loved one.”
He nods again.
“If you don’t mind me asking, how old was she?”
“…eighty-three.” He answers. “Her birthday was in a month.”
She shakes her head. “That’s a shame.”
“It sure is,” He says, reaching out to touch her hand. It’s cold to the touch, a cruel reminder. “It sure is.”
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You would’ve been eighty-four now.
He still lives in the same house but it’s not the same without you. It’s lifeless, empty—all the love you poured into the decor now just an awful reminder of what he lost. He thinks about tearing it all down sometimes but he knows you’d probably kick his ass if he so much as touched your crystal vases.
Your side of the bedroom is untouched, he moved all his stuff to the separate one the week after you died. It hurts to sleep there knowing you’re gone, but sometimes he’ll sit by the nightstand, a drink in hand and stare at the empty spot where you would be. Sometimes if he stares hard enough, he can see you through tear-rimmed eyes, hear your laughter through the dull buzz of the alcohol.
He misses you. He’s not sure if he’ll ever stop.
He doesn’t know what possesses him, but he opens your closet. It’s an indulgence, a moment of weakness—he promised he wouldn’t touch your stuff and here he is, rummaging about. 
Coats, dresses, shirts, all memories flooding back to him as he moves past them. The black dress you wore on your first date, the sundress you wore for your anniversary—
When his fingers brush against the lace, his heart lurches. He doesn’t need to see it to know, but he tugs anyway, revealing your wedding dress hidden deep inside. The most beautiful thing you’ve ever worn.
He takes the gown between reverent hands, as if the fabric would fall apart, disintegrate if he was anything but cautious with it. It still smells like you.
He finds the box labeled “wedding” next to it, and without hesitation pulls it from its corner. Wedding invites, flowers, old videos, everything that you could have taken as a memory, you had it. You even kept the cake toppers.
What surprises him though, is a notebook. It’s tiny, leather bound and slightly worn, every page a new entry. He flips to the first page and his heart nearly stops.
Dear Logan,
If you’re reading this, I’m probably dead.
His eyes widened. When did you write this? The small book suddenly feels like lead in his hands, it’s a struggle to pull his eyes back to the ink-stained pages, but he does so anyway.
I hope I managed to give this to you before I pass. I wish I could explain to you how much I love you, and how much I worry about you. You’re a stubborn asshole, could never see the good in yourself but I did—I still do. I’ve known you for thirty years now so I’m willing to bet you’re probably reading this drunk, blaming yourself for my death.
He doesn’t know when he started crying but your words make him laugh through the pain, wiping the palm of his hand against his cheek. He used to say you were secretly a telepath, always able to read his mind. Seems it’s a talent that extends beyond the grave.
Anyway, rambling aside, I wanted to give you something to remember me by. You’re going to live longer than I am, we both know that: but maybe my memory can live along with you.
His hands are shaking, fingers stumbling through the next page with bated breath.
Entry one, not sure how I should start…I’ll figure it out later. Your beard grew out a little so I offered to help you shave…
I think I did a shit job but you didn’t seem to mind, or maybe you were trying to save my feelings? I don't know which one. In any case remember to take care of yourself, I might be gone but like hell if I’m gonna let you let yourself go!
Attached with a paperclip is a photo of the two of you in the bathroom, you smushing his face while he stares at the camera annoyed, or at least it seems. There’s a hint of a smile on his face.
He remembers that day. You were cuddling him and complained his beard was scratchy. He let you sit on his lap while you gave him a trim, you said your lines were crooked but he didn’t give a shit—he had you all to himself, and that’s all he needed.
A small huff of laughter escapes him, even in the afterlife you’re still bossing him around. He flips to the next page—
Entry two, don’t isolate yourself! I know you Logan, that lone wolf shit doesn’t work and you know it too! When’s the last time you talked to the other X-Men, huh?
Your words rattle in his head, feelings of guilt blooming. They call occasionally, but he never picks up. Charles is the only one he ever gave the time of day and even then the mention of your passing is a sore subject. One time Scott showed up at his house, helped him clean up a bit before leaving; he never said thank you.
His eyes flick to the phone on his nightstand before continuing to read. 
Entry three, don’t starve yourself! I left a couple of my recipes in the last pages, just in case you missed my cooking…
Entry four, I have a secret album of us on my phone. The password is…
Entry five, stop being so hard on yourself…
Entry after entry, all stories with advice for when you’re gone. Clean up after himself, don’t try to find peace at the bottom of a bottle, remember to find a hobby…every single page, accompanied by a description of what you did that day. Went hiking, went on a dinner date, stayed at home and watched tv—almost an entire year's worth of reminiscing in the form of a tiny brown journal.
By the time he got to the last one the sun had begun to rise. His eyes burned with exhaustion, but the thought of stopping never crossed his mind.
The big three-six-five, happy anniversary! It’s been a year since I started this project and I think I should end it here, so I’ll end it with the best advice I can give you.
Logan, you need to move on.
I know it hurts, but I’m gone, and you can’t spend your life chasing after a woman who isn’t here anymore. You deserve more in life than to grieve. I love you more than anything in the world, which is why I’m telling you it’s okay to move on.
I’ll always be with you, so don’t think that you need to feel guilty. I know you love me, and I love you.
I’m giving you permission to forgive yourself, and let me go.
He re-reads your words. Once, twice, even three times before they really sink in. I’m giving you permission to forgive yourself, and let me go.
At that moment it all comes crashing down on him. Your death, the funeral, the pain and longing, the grief—all of it. Everything he’d ever tried to push aside by drinking, culminating into this single release of emotion.
He cries. A full-bodied, pathetic display, he sobbed while holding your last memory to his chest until he was red in the face, until his lungs burned. He sobbed until he had no more tears to give, then sobbed some more.
Even in death, you were still listening.
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lowkeyrobin · 5 months
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hello ! i was wondering if you would be able to write a fic of Percy ( PJO ) befriending a child of ares reader ( or hypnos , either is fine ! ). If you are not able to, that is alright as well! Have a great day / night !
- 🗡️
hi 🗡!! of course I could! I did child of hypnos because I thought it was cooler and shit idrk ; also gave reader some little sleep powers cause why not ; have a good day/night to you as well! ; thanks for requesting, hope you enjoy!
PERCY JACKSON ; slumbering demi-god
summary ; you meet good old Percy Jackson and helped him when he couldn't sleep
warnings ; language
disclaimers ; Percy is a little ooc but I was attempting to make him a little bit older (about 14-16 but no like danger or quests to go on yk)
word count ; 710
masterlist
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"Oh, shit, I'm so sorry!" You exclaim, holding your shoulder after accidently walking into another camper.
"You're fine, sorry, that was my fault" He awkwardly smiles, "You okay?"
"Yeah, sorry"
"What's your name? I don't think I've seen you before?" The boy asks, pushing his curly blonde hair away from his face.
"Y/n" You answer, rubbing your eyes a bit, "Sorry, really drowsy this morning"
"You say sorry a lot"
"I know, jackass"
"Gods, okay, damn"
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"Oh, yeah, I know Y/n" Annabeth nods, "They're a child of Hypnos, like, the personification of sleep and slumber"
Percy nods, humming in response. "So, like, they just sleep a lot?"
"They can make people sleep slash fall into a deep slumber on command, basically. But they have to sleep a lot to keep themselves charged"
"Huh, interesting," Percy shrugs. "Like how I just drink gallons of water every day to keep myself hydrated? And somehow I don't fall ill to water poisoning?"
"Yeah, something like that, Perc"
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You roll your eyes, sending the young camper to sleep on command with a wave of your fingers. "Sorry, but I'm not dealing with cranky kids in the morning"
You sigh, retrieving outside to get a breath of air before heading to bed.
"Hey, Y/n!" You hear a slightly familiar voice call.
You quickly turn your head toward the source of the sound, that kid you bumped into earlier today. He still wears the same orange Camp Half-Blood shirt, his blonde curls a mess upon his head now.
"Hi?" You reply, more like a question if anything. "I don't know your name, so-"
"Percy" He answers, "So, like, you can make people sleep on command?"
"Mhm," You hum, "What? You need some sleep?"
Percy awkwardly rubs the nape of his neck with a sideways smile. "Uh, yeah. Kinda, yeah"
You softly smile, walking down to him. "You're lucky I'm not forcing you to sleep right here, Percy. Lead the way home"
He spins on his heels, leading you toward the Poseidon cabin, which he ran and was the only resident of. He welcomes you in, apologizing for the mess of empty water bottles across the floor.
"Gods, how much water do you drink?" You ask him, picking a few up to throw them away. You were not navigating through that whole maze at a time like this.
"Uh, a lot," He answers, not really giving a definite explanation. "Sorry for this, by the way. I just haven't been able to sleep recently-"
"It's fine." You shrug, tossing the empty bottles into the bin. "What I'm here for, right?" You smile, re-tying the drawstrings on your pajama pants. "You can like, lay down, unless you're planning to sleep on the floor"
He nods, climbing into his bed. Halfway through the motion, you wave your fingers, and into slumber, he falls. His blanket is halfway draped over him, his arm hanging over the side of the bed.
"Night-night, Percy"
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"Y/n!"
"Hey, Percy"
"You couldn't have at least let me get covered?"
"I'd quiet down, Percy"
"You-" He groans, "You know what I meant"
"You wanted to sleep, no?"
"I meant you probably could've waited for me to actually get in my bed before spelling me to sleep with your fantasy fairy powers," He clarifies.
You shrug, leaning against the fence outside your cabin. "You got what you wanted, Jackson"
His eyebrows quickly furrow, "I never told you my last name"
"It's almost like you're a camp hero, dude" You playfully roll your eyes. "How'd you sleep?"
Percy opened his mouth to speak but was quickly stopped, realizing that you had the advantage here and he'd already lost.
"Good" He admits.
"Just good?"
"Great, actually"
"Will you be recommending my services to other people? On a scale of one to ten, how likely is that?" You ask, mocking some trivia at the end of an online therapy session.
"Oh, definitely an eleven. I'll get you more money and clients, don't worry."
"Yeah, sure, buddy"
"Buddy?"
"I'm testing the waters to see how much I can annoy you"
Percy sighs with a laugh choking him, "I like you Y/n"
"Yeah, you're cool, Jackson"
"Okay, that's just kinda creepy."
"Okay, that's too far but not buddy?"
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Text
ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕣𝕥 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕡𝕒𝕔𝕜🧸
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ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕣𝕖𝕖: Rules of the pack
Word count: 2819
Summary: When Y/N woke up, she felt sore but comforted by the warmth surrounding her. Felix was nearby, and Chan's amused voice filled the room. Chan reassured Y/N that her recent distress was addressed and that the pack was committed to her well-being. Han and Chan explained the pack's rules and daily routines. Chan also reassured Y/N about her safety and comfort, particularly addressing her concerns about heats and marking. Y/N revealed her fears of rejection and her wish for a mark, which made Chan address her anxieties gently. Chan promised that they would proceed at a pace that made Y/N comfortable, ensuring she felt secure and valued. The pack’s supportive atmosphere provided Y/N with much-needed reassurance and warmth.
Warning: Angst/comfort, abuse, cursing, hate, insecurities, mention of Sexual Assault.
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When Y/n next awoke, her body was heavy with aches, but she was cocooned in a comforting warmth. Her eyes fluttered open, gradually adjusting to the soft light that bathed the room. She felt the gentle weight of light arms still draped around her, and as she shifted, the body beneath her stirred slightly.
"Okay, she's awake," Felix's voice came softly, a warm smile evident even before she fully opened her eyes.
"You have freckles," she mumbled, her voice thick with sleep as she giggled, her gaze unfocused but affectionate.
"Jesus Christ, Felix, you really knocked her out," came Chan's voice, carrying a blend of exasperation and amusement from across the room. She recognized the familiarity of his tone even before she saw him lounging on another couch.
"Hyung, I had to! She was panicking," Felix replied, his voice laced with concern as he looked down at her, his expression a mix of relief and affection.
"It's okay. At least she got some rest," Chan reassured, settling back into the cushions as Y/n slowly pushed herself up. Her movements were sluggish, and she stretched languidly, feeling the stiffness in her muscles.
"Yah! So cute," Changbin cooed from his spot, his voice light and teasing, eliciting a sleepy grumble from Y/n.
"What time is it?" she asked through a yawn, her fingers rubbing at her sore limbs.
"It's 11:25, honey. You were out for two hours," Leeknow chimed in, glancing up from his phone with a smile.
As she took in the room, she noticed everyone was now in their pajamas, some of them matching in a cozy, coordinated way. The scene was oddly domestic, and the warmth and camaraderie of the pack wrapped around her like a comforting blanket.
"Would you like a drink?" I.N asked, pouring a glass of milk for her. Without much choice, she accepted the glass and took large gulps.
"Careful, sweetie! You don't want to choke," I.N said with a concerned smile.
The warm milk settled comfortably in her stomach, adding a soothing warmth to her body. She leaned back further into Felix, snuggling in more. "I want to be in your skin," she whined, trying to press even closer. Felix chuckled and wrapped his arms around her, holding her securely.
"Hey! No fair. I want a cuddle too," Han complained from the carpet, his voice playful. His complaint was cut short when I.N pulled him onto his lap and kissed his pout away.
"Okay, ew, can we get this meeting over with? Or is Y/n so out of it?" Leeknow yawned, laying his head on Chan's shoulder. Chan happily wrapped his arms around him, providing a snug embrace.
"Yeah, I think she can function, right, little one?" Chan asked, and Y/n responded with a small, sleepy moan that made him chuckle. "First off, Y/nnie," he said, catching her gaze through her lashes and drawing a few 'awwwws' from the pack. "I'm sorry for the way the boys reacted. It was absolutely unacceptable, and I've made sure it won't happen again."
"Oppa!" Y/n shrieked in surprise, her eyes widening.
"No, I didn't kill them! They're just in a time-out or whatever you want to call it," Chan quickly reassured her, noticing her relief. "Y/n, you're safe here. I promise, as your pack alpha, no one will hurt you—not even if they're in the pack. We are all about love here, and Hyunjin's ego problem is just part of who he is. Just ask Han."
"Ugh! When I joined, he was the worst," Han added with a dramatic sigh.
"Tell me about it! These two used to throw things at each other and weren't even allowed to be in the same room," Changbin groaned, rubbing his face in frustration.
"It was the worst," I.N chimed in, his eyes wide with remembered horror.
"Pffttt, once I.N got headphones thrown at his head because he chose Hyunjin's side over Han's," Felix snickered, causing the room to burst into laughter.
"It's not funny, hyung!" I.N groaned, glaring at Felix. "I had a huge knot on my head and had to reassure fans that I wasn't being abused. Worst 72 hours of my life!"
"Hey! I apologized, and he learned his lesson," Han shrugged, sticking his tongue out at the younger boy.
"Yeah, you're done," I.N said, pushing Han off his lap. Han tumbled onto the carpet, and Y/n couldn't help but giggle at the sight.
"Anyways, back to the point!" Chan said, regaining everyone's attention. "Y/n, we want you to be in our pack. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise, okay?" Her heart warmed at the sincerity in his voice. She nodded in response, and Chan's smile widened even more. "We have a few pack rules to go over and some things we need to straighten out—"
"Ooh, can I say the rules?" Han asked eagerly, bouncing into Chan's lap as if it were his own personal throne.
"Okay, go ahead, love," Chan said with a smile.
Han clapped his hands together enthusiastically, then turned his attention to Y/n. "Alright, alright," he began, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. "Number one: The most important rule. NO omega is allowed to go out without an alpha or beta at ANY point of the day, no matter what. It's dangerous and scary out there," Han said, shivering slightly as if the danger were real. "Channie-hyung says it's safer this way because no rogues will disturb us or try to kidnap or harm us."
"Yeah, that's right," Chan interjected, nodding gravely. "I know it sounds a bit demanding, but I want all of you safe no matter what. So you have to follow that rule, okay?"
"Yes, oppa," Y/n replied, her voice earnest. She actually found the rule reassuring; Han was right, she was terrified of being out alone without protection—exactly how she'd ended up kidnapped in the first place.
"Okay, next rules!" Han cleared his throat dramatically. "No visitors unless Channie-hyung is aware and confident that they're no harm. Curfew is midnight. Alphas are the only ones allowed to hunt. No leaving the house without informing each other. Dinner is usually at 8, so make sure you're here for that."
Y/n giggled at Han's enthusiastic recitation. Minho, who had been silently listening, rolled his eyes.
"This one is mostly Minho-hyung's rule," Han continued, with a cheeky grin. "No going into the kitchen unless you're told to or ask first because apparently, that's his den."
Minho huffed, crossing his arms. "Only Felix is allowed in the kitchen. I swear, if I didn't put that rule in place, the house would've been burned down by now!"
"Dramatic much?" Han teased, but a sudden pinch from Minho made him yelp. "OW! Rude!"
"Just continue," Minho grumbled, still glaring but with a hint of a smile tugging at his lips.
Han rolled his eyes but was clearly enjoying himself. "Alright, alright. What was I saying? Oh right. Okay, we aren't allowed to enter Hyunjin's painting room..." Han said with a dramatic flourish. "I think that's all. We're allowed to shift but only outside. The fullmoon gets really busy so we always decide to stay in our part of the forest when we shift. The rules are pretty easy, any questions?"
Y/n shook her head, looking back at Chan, who nodded in approval.
"Alright, a bit of information for you," Chan said, his tone shifting to something more informative. "We usually leave the house at 6 a.m. for practice and other activities. If you'd rather sleep in, that's perfectly fine; Minho will probably leave some breakfast for you. Just make sure you don't skip meals, okay? And every week, we have Taco Tuesday, game night on Fridays, and sometimes we do pizza-making on Mondays." He glanced around to ensure everyone was paying attention. "Does anyone else want to add anything?"
"Whatever Chan says goes," Changbin said with a nod, "but he always makes sure we're all involved. It's all about teamwork. If you have any trouble with alphas or anything else, come to one of us. We'll take care of it." His tone was reassuring, and Y/N felt a warm flush of gratitude at their protective nature.
"U-um, Alpha—"
"Please, Y/nnie, don't call me that," Chan quickly interrupted with a soft smile. "Call me Channie, Chan, Chris, or Oppa—whatever feels right for you. Now, go ahead."
Y/n nodded, taking a deep breath before continuing timidly, "What about... heats?"
There was a brief silence, and Chan's expression softened. "Hey, there's no need to be embarrassed. It's completely normal," he said gently. Y/n's eyes widened in surprise. In her past experiences, discussing heats with alphas had always been taboo, something they avoided at all costs.
"Y/n, heats are normal," Chan continued. "We have a designated room for that, and Felix will show it to you. Do you normally handle it on your own?"
"N-no," Y/n stammered, her voice dropping to a whisper as painful memories surfaced. "Normally, we don't have a choice..." Her eyes filled with tears as she recalled how her previous situations had forced her into isolation during such times. "They just..."
She choked on her words, unable to continue. Felix, who had been listening quietly, tightened his embrace around her. The pack fell silent, sensing the gravity of her pain.
"It's okay, Y/N," Chan said softly, his voice filled with sympathy. "Here, you won't have to go through it alone. We're here to support you, and you can always rely on us. You're part of this family now, and we take care of our own."
Felix nodded, his eyes filled with reassurance. "We'll make sure you're comfortable and supported. You're never alone here, okay?"
Y/n nodded, her heart swelling with a mixture of relief and emotion. The pack's warmth and support enveloped her, providing a sense of safety she hadn't felt in a long time.
"Hyung, maybe we shouldn't talk about this right now," Felix said softly, noticing how the smaller omega tensed at the mention of heats.
Chan's concern deepened, and he quickly nodded in agreement. "Alright, we'll set this aside for now. Y/n, you can either ride it out alone or ask any of us for help. It's completely your choice. We'll make sure you have everything you need to be comfortable, and we'll take care of you."
"Really, Oppa?" Y/n's eyes widened in disbelief.
"Yes, love," Chan affirmed, his voice full of reassurance. "Is there anything else you'd like to ask?" His gaze was filled with concern for the younger omega. He wanted to understand what had happened to her to make her so wary. The thought of alphas abusing her made him seethe with anger, but he knew he needed to remain composed.
"Can... can I build a nest? I haven't done that in a while," she asked timidly.
"Of course, you can!" Chan said with a warm smile. "I was actually planning on suggesting that you order whatever you need online. Felix can help you pick the best options." He looked over at Felix, who beamed with joy at the opportunity to assist.
"And what about... pups?" Y/n's voice trembled slightly as she asked, her eyes darting nervously around the room. "Do you want me to conceive during my first heat? I have no—"
The room erupted in gasps. Felix's expression shifted to one of shock, while Chan's face turned stern but gentle.
"Y/n, no, no, no. We need to discuss that as a group when the time comes. We're not rushing you into anything, and honestly, I don't think any of us are ready for that kind of responsibility right now," Chan said, his tone firm yet caring. "Let's take things slowly. We'll get there when we're ready. Speaking of which, we may need to consider birth control options for you."
Y/n's shoulders relaxed slightly at the reassurance, and she looked at Chan with a mix of relief and gratitude. Felix continued to hold her close, his hand gently stroking her back. The pack members exchanged glances, their earlier tension replaced.
"Oh yes! I'll book her an appointment, Hyung," Minho says, sitting up with a determined look. He scribbles down a note, clearly taking charge of the situation.
Chan sighs deeply, shifting Han on his lap to make himself more comfortable. "Y/n, I do need to speak to you about something," he begins, his expression turning serious. "It's about your patches. Felix mentioned them, and we think it might be best to get you checked by a doctor as soon as possible. We want to make sure you're okay." His voice carries an edge of concern, hoping she won't become overwhelmed by the news.
"O-okay, they really are irritating," Y/n responds, her tone a mix of relief and apprehension. Chan lets out a sigh of relief as well, glad to see her accepting the suggestion without panic.
"Great! We'll schedule an appointment for tomorrow, before you all go shopping and do whatever it is you omegas like to do," Chan says with a chuckle, glancing at Han who is busy twirling the string of Chan's hoodie around his fingers. "I.N, will you be with them tomorrow while Changbin and I finish up in the studio?"
"Yeah, of course, Hyung. I don't have any plans," I.N replies. "Will Minho be joining us?"
"I don't have a choice," Minho grumbles, though there's a hint of amusement in his voice. Chan nudges his cheek with his nose, causing Minho to roll his eyes.
"Three omegas against our Innie? They'll make him run mad," Minho jokes.
"Hey!" all three omegas exclaim simultaneously, making Minho snicker.
"I'm just being honest. It's like setting up for a disaster," Minho continues, a teasing lilt in his voice.
"I'm with Minho on this one. You lot are a handful—OW!" Chan winces as Han playfully bites his shoulder. A small bite mark starts to form, and Han shrugs with a mischievous grin.
"You asked for it," Han says with a nonchalant shrug, high-fiving both Felix and Y/n. The room fills with their giggles, a warm and lighthearted atmosphere settling over everyone.
"What am I going to do with you, ugh!" Chan groans playfully.
"When will I get marked, oppa?" Y/N's voice is soft, and her eyes are filled with a mix of hope and vulnerability. The room's atmosphere shifts instantly, everyone's attention focusing on Chan. The playful banter stops as the seriousness of her question settles in.
"How about we first get you comfortable and then we can talk about marking you?" Chan says, his tone gentle but firm. He wants to assure her without rushing into anything. His intention is to make Y/N feel secure and not overwhelmed, but it seems to have the opposite effect.
Y/N's expression falters, her eyes wide with hurt and confusion. She shrinks against Felix, her omega's distress turning her form small and withdrawn. Chan notices immediately and, with a frown of concern, gently nudges Han off his lap.
"Hey, hey, come here," Chan says softly, opening his arms for Y/N. His voice is soothing, trying to bridge the gap between his intentions and her feelings. "Come to me, Y/n."
With a tentative motion, Y/n crawls into Chan's lap, her body trembling slightly. Chan wraps his arms around her, pulling her close in an attempt to comfort her. He can feel the tension in her small frame and the quiet whimpers that escape her.
"What's wrong?" Chan asks gently, his voice filled with concern. He tilts her chin up so he can meet her gaze, hoping to make her feel more secure. He notices her eyes are now gold meaning her omega was in charge right now. "Tell me what's going on."
Y/N's eyes well up with tears, and she buries her face in Chan's chest, her voice trembling as she speaks. "S-she thinks you're rejecting us. She wants your mark so bad," she whispers, her words barely audible. The hurt in her voice is clear, and Chan's heart aches for her.
"Does she want it right now?" Chan asks, his worry evident. He wants to make sure she knows that he's not rejecting her, and that he genuinely cares for her well-being.
Y/N nods slowly, her tears soaking into Chan's shirt. "Y-yes, she thinks you'll find better. She's scared. She wants to be yours," she confesses, her words filled with desperation and insecurity.
Chan's expression softens as he looks down at her, his heart breaking for her. "Oh, Y/N," he murmurs, his voice tender. "I'm not rejecting you. It's not about that at all. I just want to make sure you're comfortable and ready before we move forward. I don't want to rush you into something you're not prepared for."
He gently strokes her hair, trying to soothe her. "It's important to me that you feel safe and secure. We'll take our time with this, and we'll do it when it feels right for both of us. You're not just a mark to me. You're important, and I care about you deeply."
Y/N's sobs start to quiet down as Chan continues to hold her close, his words calming her. Felix, Han, and the rest of the pack watch with concern.
Chan continues to speak softly, his arms wrapping around Y/N protectively. "We'll take this step by step. I promise you, you're safe here. We'll make sure you're comfortable and that this is right for both of us. It's not about finding someone better; it's about making sure we both feel right about this."
Y/N finally looks up at Chan, her eyes still filled with tears but also with a glimmer of hope. "Thank you," she whispers, her voice barely audible.
🍄🌻🥞🌿
Dont forget to reblog and follow! <3
Taglist: @ihrtlix @bowsnbang @katsukis1wife @thegingerthatwaited
182 notes · View notes
reallyromealone · 10 months
Note
Hello there, I was wondering if we can get a part 2 of the alpha Kirishima x alpha Bakugo adopting to mega pup reader and the reader is meet most of their aunts and uncles?
Title: adoption part 2
Fandom: my hero academia
Pairing kirishima x Bakugo x male reader
Type: platonic fluff
Warnings: omegaverse, child reader
Notes: none
🌑🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘🌑🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘🌑
(Name) was an absolute precious little guy, always following one of his dad's when he could and trying to help in the best way he could with such little hands as the two adults tried to include him in their day to day, currently on maternity leave to acclimate (name) better.
"Yaaay! Good job!" Kirishima congratulated (name) as the babe put his plastic bowl in the dishwasher, (name) beaming at this and hugged his dad's neck for comfort "were getting ready to meet some people, they're your aunt's and uncles and are very excited to meet you" when their friends learned if their tiny pup they practically exploded with excitement, mina taking everything within herself to not bust down that door to see the pup.
(Name) held the Dynamite toy close, either that or an old sweater of Kirishimas that the babe saught comfort from, a quick Google search showed Omegan pups saught comfort from their parents items it was early stages of a familial bond settling in.
Bakugo was the one to collect the little one after his nap, the aunts and uncles sitting in the livingroom to meet him "hey squirt, it's time to wake up" they changed the crib to a toddler bed when (name) tried climbing out, the little one starfished with a cute pair of pajamas on "nnh" the boy grunted as Katsuki huffed and gently lifted him "come on you" the boy nuzzling into his dad's shirt as he was brought out to the livingroom "(name), can you say hi?" Katsuki was surprisingly soft with the pup who looked confused and face had marks from the sheets "awww he's so little!" Mina gushed as she stood up and (name) clung to his dad nervously "slowly mina, he's shy" Eijiro said watching his sons movements.
The itty bitty pup looked nervous as Katsuki spoke to him "this is your aunt, she's a bit annoying but she's not gonna hurt you"
Carefully he set (name) down, the boy fidgeting before running to his other dad for protection, the redhead holding his stuffed doll "awww he has a dynamite toy!" Ochaco cooed and they watched (name).
Eventually everyone began chatting and (name) grew more comfortable and began wandering around as he normally did as he noticed the snacks on the table, things the others brought "oh look he's staring at the (treat)" denki snicked as the babe reached out and grabbed a handful, little hands getting messy in the process "well at least he likes it" Momo said as the dad's looked at each other and Katsuki cleaned him up and Eijiro got the boy a small serving "so how's being a parent?" Iida asked as he sipped his tea, glancing at the pup "he keeps trying to make nests everywhere, we don't think he knows what he's doing though" Eijiro chuckled as he let (name) get comfortable in his lap.
Later on came his former teachers + Eri and Shinsou, the two tagging along.
Katsuki saw the two as his own parents, his real parents and him had.. a hard relationship.
His mom and him never got along and when he showed up with Eiji... That went bad fast, he was seventeen at that point.
He hadnt even graduated yet.
His dad loved him but being an Omega, he couldn't really go against his alphas word but did send letters to him in secret.
After that Aizawa stepped up, using his custody over Bakugo and taking care of him and by proxy so did Yamada, the men treating him like a son.
"Hi little listener" Yamada was soft with the pup as Aizawa looked at the two fondly, Eri chatting with kirishima about her classes and her plans to join U.A under recommendations by not one but multiple heroes.
"Oh? Thanks..." Shinsou was awkward around children and when (name) handed him a Cheeto he wasn't expecting it to be so...soggy "you don't gotta eat that, just walk to the kitchen and toss it" kirishima whispered and the other man nodded and did so.
"Hello there" little (name) reached to the black haired man who had the forethought to have his hair put up "you can smell I'm an Omega" Aizawa smiled softly as (name) sniffed his face and bounced slightly "omegas feel calm with other omegas" he explained "safety in numbers sort of deal"
(Name) smushed his face, a silly baby attempt at scenting "I think he thinks I'm apart of his pack"
"Well you are" Eri said simply and everyone smiled at the interaction.
"Minas gonna be pissed that he's getting this and she's not"
When everyone left, (name) was tuckered out "he sure enjoyed those snacks"
"He's so sleepy" kirishima gently traced the boys face "let's get him to bed yeah?"
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larcenywrites · 1 month
Note
Hey, I saw that you were taking requests for Kurt, and I have an idea that I would like you to write please. Can you do a Nightcarwler X Reader story where Kurt had a bad day from an unfavorable encounter from earlier that day from an anti-mutant crowd, which called him a monster and demon and other bad things, despite him just wanting to help people. Kurt is now feeling a bit depressed and insecure about his unique appearance. The reader helps reassure him that he’s beautiful and comforts him, and their bonding eventually escalates to NSFW stuff. I would prefer the reader to be of the male sex, but ultimately the reader can be whatever sex you decide. Thank you so much for your time 😊
(I’m sorry this isn’t funny-)
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So sorry it took so long D: but I hope this is okay :)
What It Means To Be Human
Nightcrawler x M!Reader
Warnings: male reader but no pronouns used | unprotected because I’m always a slut | do I even have to say a little tail action?? It’s nightcrawler 😏 | some light oral | “somehow” I got into my tongue and spit kink a lil tiny bit sorry | porn with plot but at least the plot is loving on Kurt 😚
Word count: ~2,100
It was hardly late afternoon, and already the day had gone to shit. For a handful of people, that is, but unfortunately, that handful included your people and, more importantly, your person. Rogue had already told you about the angry mom of humans. The usual, as she'd typically describe it. But you knew that for Kurt, "the usual" was a little more serious than the term made it sound and a whole lot more familiar— Personal, even.
You quickly made your way to your bedroom, immediately noticing the lump beneath the sheets. You climbed into your side of the bed, lifting the covers to reveal the furball underneath. "You're in bed early," you comment softly, trying to keep a lighthearted edge to your tone. He didn't respond, but after a few moments of playing dead, he finally shifted, sifting up next to you and crossing his legs. Downcast golden orbs studied the sheets.
"You okay?" You ask softly, already knowing the answer. In his silence, you study his bare chest and low-waisted pajama pants, clearly drained from his earlier encounter.
"Yeah," Kurt eventually mumbles back. He turns to look at you, tired eyes studying yours, picking up that you already know. "It shouldn't bother me anymore," he deflects, looking down again.
With a sigh, you lean against him, not taking your eyes off him. "It's okay for it to bother you," you reason, leaning against him to be shoulder-to-shoulder and hip-to-hip. "You don't have to be strong all the time," you continue. "You've had to deal with their name-calling for way too long."
"The name-calling I can handle," he quickly replies. "It's being considered less than human that gets under my skin," he remarks, tail thrashing behind him and resting around you. It was tempting to just tell him it didn't matter what they thought, but for someone like him, it unfortunately does matter. He's had to spend his whole life proving it just to continue helping the very people who ostracize him.
Wanting to take away from the somberness for a moment, you suddenly push a finger between his lips to press at a fang, making him open his mouth a little. "What, you're telling me these things aren't human?" You tease lightly, watching him shrug away.
"Those are probably the most human thing about me," he retorts, clearly trying not to smile as he looks down.
"Then maybe that's why they're not my most favorite thing about you," you tease back, making him snort softly. You study him quietly for a few moments before speaking again. "You know, if they gave you a chance, they would find that you are the most human of us all," you add on much more seriously, resting on his shoulder and watching his reaction.
"That's the issue," he replies somberly, resting his cheek against your head. "I don't think any of us are going to get the chance to prove that."
The statement hangs in the air for several moments. They would never understand what he's done to be like them, nor what he's been through to be just himself, and each time getting the same treatment.
"They know not what they do," he repeats a verse that has left his lips plenty of times, fingers rising to fumble with the silver cross that hangs from the chain around his neck. "That doesn't make it hurt less," he confesses.
With a heavy sigh, you lift your head again to look at him properly. "Everything that you are now is because you don't look human," you state bluntly but lovingly, bringing a hand to his cheek and tilting his face towards you. "And is exactly why you're beautiful," you add tenderly, making him look down shyly.
"I know what I am, liebe," he replies quietly, almost defeatedly, leaning into your touch with a soft sigh. "And what I am not," he continues with conviction, a hint of a double meaning behind his words and a gleam of determination in his solid yellow eyes when they glance back up at you.
You smile softly at him, rubbing your thumb over the fur of his cheek before tracing over his lips. He may, in fact, look like a devil, but he was a handsome devil— your handsome devil.
"I don't know," you start. "They might've been right about one thing…" you insinuate, a hint of suggestiveness in your tone and a mischief in your eyes that he knows well.
"Oh, the 'handsome devil' line again; how clever," he mutters sarcastically before you can even continue, glaring at you with a badly hidden grin.
"Oh, you like it," you retort as you lean into him with a mocking pout.
"I do," Kurt's low chuckle breathes against your lips after happily leaning in with you, the grin he'd been trying to hide now on full display. The soft fur on his face tickled your cheeks and nose as you connected in a kiss. Something short but sweet, loving but innocent. Just the human connection he probably needed after today.
With lips brushing and noses bumping, both of you simply rested against one another for a moment, letting him enjoy some peace of humanity with a soft sigh. You could practically feel his sly grin as he pressed a deeper kiss to your lips, his tail unfurling from your arm to curl over your leg. With your own knowing grin, you eagerly kissed back, playing with the broad tip of his tail.
Kurt teasingly bites into your bottom lip, dragging it with him when he pulls away just enough to let you see the mischievous gleam in his golden eyes and smirking fangs, challenging you to bite back. Shifting yourself to your knees, you plant a hand in the soft fluff of his chest while simultaneously diving into his neck. This time, you sink your teeth into him, still not entirely used to the feeling of fur against your tongue, nor his slinking tail around your thigh.
Lulling his head to the side to give you more room to ravish his throat, his tail tightens around your thigh in excitement, and hands find their way under your shirt, squeezing your sides with similar enthusiasm before wrapping his arms around you instead. His tighter embrace convinces you to fall with him. Right where he wanted you.
Despite his lithe form, Kurt easily rolls you both, switching positions to have you underneath instead. With his arms still hooked around your lower back, it was also his turn to sink his teeth into the crook of your neck, fangs pricking at your skin. You hum lowly and wrap your arms around his back, trailing over the velvety feel of his fur and playing with the longer curls on the back of his neck.
Without warning, he ground into you, making you hiss from the sudden friction. The sound spurred him on, deeply rolling his hips into yours in search of more. The rough fabric of your jeans was both frustrating and delicious, creating just enough tension to have you both twitching and humming in pleasure, but leaving far too much distance between your aching cocks. Yet, you continued, feeling Kurt's hot breath panting over your ear.
The strong hands on your back gripped onto your waist, sliding over your ticklish skin and riding your shirt up with them. He barely lifted himself, letting you take his cue to undress, hardly throwing your shirt to the side before that fluffy chest pressed against yours again. Lips passionately pressed against yours, with tongue tracing your lip and a hand sneaking down to the button of your pants.
You parted your lips only for him to pull away, sitting up to properly straddle you. Your hips twitch towards him in anticipation as he unfastens your jeans with a familiar precision. It's not long before you've both managed to shimmy the rest of your clothes onto the floor.
Now nude beneath him, Kurt eagerly flattens his tongue against your tip, fangs barely peaking from beneath his lips. At your low moan, he continues down your length, purposefully leaving behind a messy trail of saliva and licking back up to gently suck the head of your cock. He's just as sloppy, making sure to coat your length in his dripping spit and using his tongue to spread it.
You can't help but bury your hand into the soft blue and indigo hues of his hair with a soft groan, threading your fingers through his curls. Barely lifting his head enough to make your hand fall to his cheek instead, Kurt gives your palm the same treatment, licking over your skin with an obvious intent in his eyes, simultaneously hooking a thumb beneath the waistband of his pajama pants and awkwardly tugging them off. But there wasn't much time to mull over his graceless maneuver when his own hard length springs out.
As he straddles your waist again, you eagerly take his cock into your wettened hand, digging your other into the thicker fur on his thighs. His moans are soft, like the rest of him, letting you slowly jerk him off while he struggled to align himself with twitching hips. Peach fuzz tickles your thigh as that not-so-sneaky tail sneaks around your leg and tightens on cue with its owner as he sinks onto you. Your own hips thrust up to try and meet him, making the cock in your hand jump.
Kurt moans through bared fangs, caught between the feeling of your gentle touch circling under his leaky tip and heavier pressure filling him, involuntarily rolling his hips even while trying to adjust. The movement, or the lack thereof, left you just as tense and twitching inside him. Panting in frustration, you moved your hand along his shaft again, hoping to spur him on.
With another roll of his hips, he couldn't stop himself from practically grinding on you, lips parting as his gaze is drawn to where your hand pleasures him. He licks his lips at the sight, only moments later letting saliva drip from his mouth and into the base of his dick, making you curse under your breath as you spread it over his sensitive flesh.
Kurt plants his hands on either side of you, back arched and hips finally lifting. You both groan softly, slowly moving against one another. Your nails dig into his thigh and your hand on his cock struggles to match the slow pace. Desperate to chase after the feeling, it's not long before he speeds up, bouncing higher each time.
The long chain that hung from his neck dangled wildly with his movements, a hand coming to your lower tummy to steady himself a little and to brush his fingers over your skin. Lying your head back with a groan aimed at the ceiling, you peered down at him through your lashes, his parted lips panting and the thick curls that hung over his forehead softly bouncing each time his hips reconnected with yours.
The closer you got, the harder it became to keep a steady pace stroking him. With a whimperish moan, he shoos you away, taking his aching cock in his hands, movements desperate as he jerks himself off. You take the other furry thigh in your hand, holding onto him and watching closely. Kurt tenses around you and stops abruptly, working at his blush-red tip and obviously close. Just as desperate for more friction, you thrust up to meet his stilled form, making him moan loudly.
Keeping his hips in your grasp while you fucked into him, it didn't take much longer before he lurched forward, movements slowing as he finally came, dripping onto your stomach with a panted sigh that showed off his fangs. The sight had your own movements faltering, sporadically rolling your tensing hips against him as you released yourself inside him.
Kurt releases himself as you both still, hunched over you and squirming. You're both panting, your hands playing with his fur and his thumbs barely brushing at your sides. The constricting tail around your leg finally unravels itself as he lifts himself from you, falling into your side with his fuzzy cheek on your shoulder and knees drawn up against you. You quickly reached over to the nightstand for a few tissues, taking care of the pool of cum on your stomach.
With his tail curling over your waist once you settled again, he cuddles into you, kissing at your shoulder before turning to meet your lips. Entwined with you in the sunlit room, maybe this was all it took to be human. Something he didn't have to share, something he didn't have to prove. Somewhere where he didn't need to be anything other than loved.
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wolken-himmel · 2 years
Text
In which a Diasomnia student calls (Y/n) over to help when some of his fellow dorm members start turning into animals.
Upon arrival, the prefect realises that Malleus has turned into some kind of lizard, Lilia into a bat, Silver into a bear cub, and Sebek into a crocodile.
Request by anon.
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"T-They're inside the dorm... Please, do something, prefect!"
The crowd of Diasomnia students seemed to be in a frenzy as all of them frantically pointed at the entrance to their dorm. Some of them even looked like they wanted to follow you to the doorstep, but those were held back by their fellow dorm members. At least the majority of the students had been able to evacuate before the strange miasma could have gotten to them.
A cold shiver ran down your back, although you did your best to suppress it. "We'll try our best..." you assured the panicked student that had called for your help. Then, steeling your nerves, you turned to the entrance and carefully rapped your fist against the wooden door. "Malleus, Lilia? Anyone there?"
You received no reply.
"Can we go home?" Grim whined at once and tugged at your pajama sleeve. "I'm tired..."
His impatience amused you, yet you shook your head and replied, "No, we have to check up on Sebek and the others..." Your voice trailed off into a quiet echo, overshadowed by the weeping of the door as you pushed it open.
With the utmost care you could muster, you stepped inside the dorm. Few candles lit the vacant hallway, shrouding the interior in a frightening and unsettling mood. The cat monster watched as the darkness swallowed you whole. "Don't go in there! What if the plague reaches you, too?" He stumbled after you with clumsy and hasty steps.
You merely rolled your eyes while continuing your way. "There is no such thing as a plague..."
"Yes! That Diasomnia guy said something of a sickness that turned people into animals..." Grim gulped in fear. His paws clung to your arm tightly, and his head whipped in all sorts of directions whenever his ears picked up on anything. Once the two of you entered the kitchen, a frightened yelp escaped his maw. "I-I think I saw something slithering around on the floor—"
He cut himself off with a scream before pouncing into your arms. A sigh escaped your lips, but you nonetheless caught him and soothed him with a few awkward pats to his back. "We'll be careful, Grim..." you whispered. Then, you swayed him back and forth, as if he were a child. The motion seemed to calm his tense nerves, and he soon allowed you to set him down again.
"Just... stay close," Grim muttered quietly.
A foul stench entered your nose before you could reply. Your eyes soon found the source of the smell: a broken vial that lay in a puddle of green liquid. The revolting-looking liquid still emanated a strange fog that set off alarm bells in your head.
"Do you see the broken vial over there?" you muttered and pinched your nostrils close. "Don't breathe any of the fumes in..."
It only took your friend a few moments to decipher the words on the broken vial. "Wait, I recognise that thing! That was today's alchemy assignment! But... we weren't supposed to brew a transformation potion. It was just supposed to be something boring."
"Someone must have tinkered with it then. Perhaps a playful soul like Lilia." A sigh escaped your lips when the sound of fluttering wings caused the cat to cling to you again. Although this time, you swore you could feel a gust of wind brushing past your cheeks. "Well, looks like his prank went awfully wrong..."
Just as you were about to turn around and leave the kitchen, Grim's shaking paw stopped you. Once he had caught your attention, he carefully pointed at a fleeting shadow rummaging through the fruit basket. You steeled yourself to face a predator, only to witness a bat's head poking out from behind an orange.
"(Y/n)— do you see that bat over there? Is it..." Grim gulped in horror. "...laughing?"
Indeed, the small animal seemed to find joy in your frightened faces. He clutched his stomach with his clawed hands and doubled over in amusement. The bat remained on the kitchen counter, rolling around in laughter — until you picked him up by his feet.
"A bat... Oh no, the potion got to Lilia..." you whispered in defeat. "Don't worry, it's just me... We'll find a cure for this whole mishap."
He seemed to understand you, based on the way he grinned at you and fluttered his wings. As soon as you removed your grip on his feet, he sailed into the air — only to land on your shoulder. So preoccupied with the playful bat, you didn't notice when your cat companion suddenly was nowhere to be seen.
"(Y/n)! Help!" Grim cried out, but that was the last you heard of him.
Your head whipped into the direction of his voice at once, the sudden gesture startling the bat. Yet, your eyes could not find any trace of the grey cat. "Grim? Where are you?" you cried out and stumbled out of the kitchen. You managed to catch a glimpse of his trident tail as it disappeared behind a corner. "Grim! Grim! Hold on, I'm coming!"
At once, you picked up your pace. In your panicked state, you barely managed to register that the bat had decided to accompany you. Amused cackles escaped the bat's throat, but he was kind enough to guide you back on track whenever you lost the trail. Just as you were sure you had caught up to Grim and his captor, you were faced with another animal that blocked your path. Much to your dismay, this one wasn't as harmless as the small bat.
"A... A crocodile?" You blinked owlishly at the predator that lay in the middle of the hallway.
An annoyed growl escaped the crocodile's maw as soon as he caught onto your heavy breathing. With great effort, he managed to twist his neck in your direction. His large body and tail knocked over a vase, but he didn't seem to care. His attention was locked onto you, and his eyes burnt with annoyance.
You knew that look.
"Sebek!" you cried out and slowly inched towards him. "It's me, (Y/n)... I'm here to help you guys."
The crocodile watched you warily, but didn't move whatsoever. It was only when you tried to scoot past him that he lurched at you with the speed of light. Just in time, you managed to jump to the side, otherwise you would have been crocodile food. You immediately grabbed one of the decorative swords that hung on the walls and readied yourself, should he attempt another bite.
When he finally attacked again, you brought the pommel of the sword down onto his head. A dejected roar that sounded more like a whine escaped his maw. He shrank back at once to rub the dent in pain.
"Bad crocodile!" you cried out and returned the sword to its original place. "Do you have no manners? Just like your human self, eh?"
By then, the crocodile seemed to have snapped out of his bloodlust. With his head hung low, he inched closer to you. He had no intention of attacking, whatsoever — instead, he merely stared up at you with watery puppy eyes.
"I was just joking, Sebek," you muttered and carefully rubbed the place where you had hit him. A small smile appeared on your face. "And I hope you were joking as well when you tried to bite my head off."
He nodded eagerly.
At that, a few snickers escaped your lips. "Alright, apology accepted..." With the path now cleared, you rose back to your feet and rubbed your back. "Have you perhaps seen where Grim was taken to?"
The crocodile replied with another nod before twisting his large body so that he could move onward. He merely grumbled a few harmless complaints when the bat landed on his back for a rest.
"Lead the way, then." You followed the two as they moved through a series of winding hallways. Slowly but surely, you lost track of how many left and right turns you had taken. At least the bat and crocodile seemed to know their way around well.
After having crossed a corner for the umpteenth time, you found another obstacle lying in your way. This animal seemed smaller and much less threatening than the crocodile — especially so when you noticed the brown and fluffy fur. Soft snores came from the animal's direction.
"Please tell me the bear cub is better behaved than Sebek..." you whispered, drawing an offended growl from the crocodile in question. "Should we... wake him up?" Before you even had the opportunity to nudge the bear awake, the crocodile had already rudely swept his scaled tail against the bear.
He woke up with a startled yelp, his head snapping up in alarm. You also furrowed your eyebrows once your gazes met. "I know those eyes! It's you, Silver." A little chuckle escaped your lips when the bear drowsily pawed at your pajama pants. "Aren't you a cute one? So sleepy, so adorable..."
You swept him up into your arms and held him close to you. A series of pleased giggles escaped his maw when you rubbed that special spot behind his round ears. Promptly, he fell asleep again, drawing a sigh from you. "Oh right, we need to continue..." All your attempts of lowering the cub to the floor again were met with whines of protests from his side. You sighed in resignation, yet you couldn't bring it over yourself to go against his wishes. "Silver, I need to go rescue Grim... I really need to..."
Just as you were about to give in to his puppy eyes, your bat friend swept in and gave the bear a stern look. That seemed to have done the trick, as the bear now let himself be lowered to the floor.
"Thank you, Lilia," you breathed out in relief. "I couldn't have done it myself."
Now that the moral dilemma was taken care of, the four of you continued your search for your kidnapped cat companion. After another set of hallways and your feet slowly growing numb from all the walking, you reached a door that all three of the animals pointed at. Without wasting any more time, you carefully pushed the door open and peeked inside.
In the dim light of some candles, you found Grim cowering in a corner of the supposed bedroom. He seemed unharmed when he sprinted over to you and leapt into your arms. "(Y/n)... you came for me!" he cried out in relief. His body shook from head to toe.
Just as you were about to answer, a pair of glowing eyes appeared in your peripheral vision. The rest of the predator's body was hidden away in the darkness.
"Show yourself, fiend!" you exclaimed shakily.
The mysterious creature let out a disgruntled yawn before stepping out into the light.
You couldn't help but furrow your eyebrows in confusion. "A... lizard?" It was a large one, at that. Grim let out a frightened shriek and pressed himself deeper into your arms, especially so when the lizard wrapped his body around your feet. Perhaps it was a gesture to welcome you.
A little chuckle escaped your throat, and your eyes drifted to the lizard's glowing eyes. You could recognise those slitted green eyes everywhere.
"Ah, Malleus... mischievous old you."
You couldn't help but laugh when the lizard crooned in happiness once you rubbed the smooth scales on his back.
Grim, however, didn't seem to share your sentiment. His thrashing was still frantic, and he looked like he was about to faint. "He scared me to death! With his frightening tail that he grabbed me with..." he retold, a traumatised expression haunting his face. "And his glowing eyes..."
"Oh, Grim... You need to calm down," you mused and patted his back. "Malleus is a nice one, isn't he?"
"Get me away from him! Please!" Grim screamed when he felt the lizard's tail brushing against his legs.
You rolled your eyes. "Grim is such a crybaby... Right, Malleus?"
The lizard's maw grew into an innocent grin.
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What would it be like waking up with Shu, Reiji, or Ruki?
So sorry I didn't see this Tumblr did not send me a notification!
But thank you for the ask and I will answer all three!!!
Under the cut because my writing is long and I might be mildly suggestive but nothing explicit!
Shu
I imagine waking with Shu would feel like a Saturday morning in Winter, where the heating is on and your bed is so warm and outside it's a cool snowy light.
Rolling over and feeling the slight chill of the vampire, his chest cool but the arm you slept on warmed by your body heat.
I think Shu, as a more subtle romantic, would enjoy like sleeping naked or at least shirtless with you. While throwing perverted comments around to deflect from showing his true sappy side, yet never actually going further then running his fingers along your spine as he holds you against himself slowly heating up.
Hearing him deeply inhale and stir as he feels your movement, eyes opening slightly and smiling before nuzzling between the pillows and your hair. A grumble of protest at having been disturbed.
If it is a weekend or holiday you give in easily resettling into the peaceful feeling of simple having skin contact with someone so intimately. Shu lifting the covers to cover you more as goosebumps cover your body slightly due to his lower body temperature.
A personal head cannon is that after you began to have an actual close relationship he would have servants bring hot water bottles to your room close to bed so you didn't have to be as effected by his chill. However by morning the once warm devices are now useless, yet he's less cold after a night of having you next to him.
Eventually you may try coax him awake. As he hides himself against your neck, feeling him voice complaints in a gravelly morning voice against your skin.
"My princess is so pushy, just rest order the servants to do the stupid errands. They're yours now."
Reiji
Reiji could go one of two ways depending on the day. A busy day or a holiday. Either way I think his room would feel fresh but still warm to wake in.
On the average day Reiji wakes you either accidentally as he gets dressed and ready for the day, or with a drink and some breakfast delivered personally to your room. He claims it's to prevent your morning mood effecting the household but it is actually to just keep you to himself a moment longer even if it's while you're both busy preparing for a long day ahead.
He runs his fingers through your hair to wake you, slowly massaging your scalp. You'd be surprised that it doesn't put you deeper asleep.
On the rare days he doesn't feel the need to wake as early he's sensual and soft. Rare for someone as prim and proper as him.
It's canon from the sleeping with a vampire audios that Reiji wears silk pajamas and bed sheets with high quality mattresses. I see him ordering you matching pajamas and night dresses in similar designs to his and he secretly waits until you get yours on before changing. He refused to admit when he's sweet. He melts when you sleep in his shirt after nightly romps in the sheets.
Ever the leading partner, you wake up being spooned by him either facing him or with you back against his chest and his face buried in your hair. You used to worry about it irritating him at first until one night you felt him nuzzle against it intentionally as he smelt the shampoo you had recently used.
Like Shu I feel he would do things to motivate the temperature difference. However maybe an electric blanket or a potion that will last the entire night.
Deepest as morning voice, grainy too completely unlike his firm even tone when awake. It's a personal side only you see. And forget Shu being the lazy one when Reiji has the time to sleep in with you. The man is begging for 5 more minutes.
"My love, stay...hm? Need a drink? I left one on the nightstand. ... You can't reach it?... Cruel woman treating your lover like this."
Ruki
Ruki's room must smell like candles and new books. A nice toasty feeling to wake to.
Clingy is the best way to describe how I feel he sleeps. So scared you may slip through his fingers or leave like others before, Ruki holds you close as you sleep.
I imagine he sleeps on his stomach due to having to sleep like that for so long after he initially got the scars on his back. His arm around your waist and head turned to rest abobe your shoulder.
The exception being when he reads a book to help you sleep. You lay, head against his chest or in his lap as he sits against a pile of pillows. You wake to his head against yours and the book left open on his lap as his arms encircle you.
Ever the slight sadist, on days you need to be up faster he might lightly pinch your sides to wake you. Chuckling as you squirm and complain at the rude awakening. Kissing you forehead in apology.
During nights where he has particularly bad nightmares you may have to wake him. Holding him against your chest and brushing through his hair as you comfort him best you can. You don't know when you both nod back off but you wake the next day to him still there resting more peaceful than ever. That being said night terrors have decreased drastically since you began to share a bed.
After you both wake up properly he holds you in his lap as you discuss your plans for the day. He takes his time laying kisses along your shoulders and down your sternum, a personal good luck ritual that makes the day a little easier to begin.
"Hm... where do you think your going? I assume like me you don't want to leave my side yet. Especially with those fingers tracing along my body. How shameless."
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husbandhoshi · 8 months
Text
[9:17 PM]
"no." you close your eyes and force yourself to take a deep breath. "nononono."
you thought the worst thing that could happen already happened—you discovered your favorite noodle place wasn't open today, and you were forced to make your peace with that. (albeit with tears. and utter devastation.)
turns out that didn't even scratch the surface of terrible, no good things that could happen today, because now, your roommate junhui is at the front door and he's the absolute last person you want to see today.
on any other day, this would be fine. good, even.
when you first moved in with junhui, you never expected to become good friends. really, you were just happy to have a place to sleep—at first, he was just some guy, and the fact that he was a medical student was a cool bonus.
that is, until you sprained your ankle going down the stairs four months ago. he wrapped it on the futon in the living room and then proceeded to keep you company for the rest of the night while you wrestled with an ice pack. it was then when you learned what it felt like to fall in love, hopelessly and instantly.
you hear him jiggle the door handle again. he likely forgot his keys, and you would let him in until you consider the fact that you look no better than a mole rat at the moment. you woke up this morning with a fever and a wicked headache, and neither of those have gotten better since then. you don't even think you've left your room yet today.
"please don't tell me you're taking a nap," he whines, muffled by the door. "i got pizza."
fuck.
you peel yourself out of bed and catch a glimpse of yourself in your vanity. not good. if you had a choice, you would want to greet him in something other than your two-day pajamas. unfortunately, your only option at the moment is slapping on some lip gloss and calling it a day, and it's now that you begin contemplating the absolute death of a possibility of having a shot with junhui. hot guys like him don't date mole rats, even if they're wearing lip gloss.
finally you reach the front door, resigned to your fate. maybe you really should get back on the apps, as much as you hate to say it.
"sorry," you say as you let junhui in. "i was in bed."
he's in his scrubs, stethoscope round his neck. he must have had a long day today, but he still smiles at you with as much warmth as always. it makes your heart actually hurt, as if you aren't feeling sick enough.
"i figured— 's ok. it's pizza time," he chants. "you eat yet?"
you hide your face as you grab him a plate. the answer is no (soup or bust was your earlier conclusion), but you don't want to risk getting him sick, especially after he spent a whole day in the hospital. it's then when you feel a hand on your shoulder, turning you around.
"hey, you good?" you're met with junhui's eyes, now squinty as he looks you over. "are you sick, or are you just happy to see me? 'cause you look warm."
"um." you swallow hard, feeling bare. if you knew you would be this close to his face, you would have at least run a comb through your hair. "i might have a teeny, tiny little temperature. maybe."
that's all you need to say. he immediately brings the back of his hand to your forehead, and if you weren't already doomed, you sure are now.
"maybe a little more than tiny, huh?" he chuckles. "let me get you some meds."
you like how he doesn't scold you for not telling him sooner or guilt you for causing trouble after work. you watch him rifle through the cabinets, muttering to himself about this and that, and you start to feel a little silly about worrying what he thought of you.
"take these," he says, putting a couple of pills in your palm before opening a water bottle for you. "and follow my finger."
you watch him draw a square with his pointer finger before he brings it in between your eyes so they cross.
"i-is everything ok?" you squeak.
"yeah," he laughs. "it's just cute when you do that."
cute?! you thank god he wasn't using that stethoscope on you, because he definitely would have diagnosed you with something right on the spot. instead, you take your meds, grateful that he didn't ask whether or not you had more than a tablespoon of water today (spoiler alert—you didn't).
you're still mentally scrambling to decode what he could possibly be talking about when he bends down to meet your eyes.
"you're lucky. it's not terminal." you try to fight the corners of your mouth from turning up at his incredibly lame joke, but it doesn't work—instead, you smile, and you watch him smile back. "but you should get some rest. i need you alive this weekend."
"w-why?"
you feel your stomach drop to your knees, even though that's anatomically impossible, and you're not sure what a heart attack really is, but you think you just had one.
he needs to stop looking at you like that, or you will do some damage.
"you wanted to go to that new restaurant down the street, right? i have the day off."
"you mean, like a d—"
"like a date." he hands you your water bottle. "i'm asking you on a date. now get some rest, okay?"
you feel like a walking skeleton as he turns you around to face the door to your room. you want to fall to your knees and jump for joy all at once, but you plan to save that for when your bedroom door is shut tight behind you. if the bedhead wasn't enough, acting like even more of a fool in front of him would definitely scare him off.
"i like the lip gloss, by the way," he hollers after you. "nice touch."
you turn back to glare at him, because now he's just bullying you. you wonder how long he knew about your little problem, which would be humiliating if you weren't so down bad.
"what? you love me."
but he's right. you do, you really do. and you guess he just might love you back too.
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yandere--stuck · 11 months
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If you're still taking requests, would you be able to do something again with Arkhamverse Joker?? (Or even Scarecrow, ANYTHING with that skinny lil horror boy please) I love ALL of your Batman work.
Just give me anything, I'm starving for some dark and creepy batvillians.
“Alright, sweetheart, just tell me who did it,” The Joker cooed from behind you, his hands resting at the plush blanket wrapped around your shoulders.
Both you and The Clown stood in front of the maw of the Sionis Steel Mill. You hadn't been outside in so long. The thought of making a run for it flitted through your mind, but you just as quickly discarded it. Joker was holding you pretty tight, but even if you broke free from his grip, presented before you was a line of Joker's men desperate to do anything to gain their boss's favor. And even if you made it through all that, you were smack dab in the middle of Arkham City. If the elements or starvation didn't get to you first, it'd be the other inmates - especially if they had gotten any inkling you might be precious to The Clown Prince of Crime.
Somehow, beyond all odds, you were the most safe in the arms of Gotham's most dangerous criminal.
Even with the multiple layers covering you, the wind cut through you like a blade. You'd been dressed in specially made pajamas the Joker commissioned, layers of winter clothing, and a large blanket he'd wrapped you up in before escorting you outside. And it made looking upon Joker's gang all the more uncomfortable. 
Compared to you, Joker's men wore precious little. Tank tops or sleeveless hoodies, some wearing no top at all, old worn pants, and their very own clown masks. You couldn't see their eyes, but you imagined that behind their masks, they glowered at you. Why wouldn't they hate you? After all, you were why they were freezing out here. Their boss had given them orders to never, under any circumstances, allow any harm to be brought unto you.
And then, Joker found the bruises.
“I don't want to get anyone in trouble,” You insisted, craving your neck to attempt eye contact with The Joker.
“Nobody's in trouble,” The Clown nuzzled you, voice almost a purr. “I just want to know who did it.”
You bit your lip. Something burned and swirled like a whirlpool in your stomach, rising to your chest. “It was my fault. I bumped into something.”
“Darling, it's okay. I'm not mad. Just point ‘em out for me.”
Your lips quivered and you screed your eyes shut. Burying your face in your hands, your whole body shook. You couldn't do this. You didn't want to. Sure, the guy roughed you up, but at least he didn't fucking kill you. And maybe whoever did it was a criminal at best or monster at worst, but you didn't want someone to die at the hands of The Joker because of you. You weren't supposed to be here. You were supposed to be in Gotham proper, living your ordinary life and not in Joker's base. You weren't supposed to be the object of Joker's obsession. You shouldn't have had to be transported around by goons, goons who were already frustrated and pissed as it was, and only exacerbated by their boss’ obsession with you and threatening them if he even thinks they're looking at you.
God, why was this happening to you? You just want to go home! You couldn't even scream, couldn't even cry, not now, not like this-
One hand released its grip on your shoulder to press against your back and brush soothing circles against you.
“Honey, baby, sweetie-darling, there's no reason to be upset!” Joker hushed. “You're not in any trouble. I'm not mad. I just want to know."
Still shaking, you dared to turn and meet the Clown's gaze. Puffing out a cloudy mist in the icy cold air, you ventured, “You promise you're not angry?”
The Joker beamed, holding up a hand. “Scout's honor!”
The both of you stared at each other for a long moment. His pupils were dilated, acidic green eyes nearly swallowed up by his dilated pupils. He stared back at you with utter adoration. 
Really, him being angry would have been less terrifying.
With a shaky exhale, you nodded. Ripping your eyes from him, you surveyed the crowd. The man in question wasn't hard to find. You knew the mask well. Lime green hair, a red clown nose, red, painted-on cuts and marks across the mask.
He was one of the henchmen ordered to transport you from one part of the base to another. You'd been terrified, shaking, near hyperventilating, and scared stiff to the spot. And he had grabbed you tight enough to bruise and shoved you through the halls, the other goons following behind. Just remembering it lit a spark of fear and anger in your gut. And even still, you hesitated to call him out.
Shivering, you slowly raised a finger to point at him, your digit like a death mark.
“Him,” you breathed out.
“Him?” Joker asked, pointing at the same man.
You nodded. You fought the urge to squeeze your eyes closed as The Joker waved him over.
The masked man approached both of you. You couldn't help but lean further into Joker. You tried to convince yourself it was the cold. He stopped a few feet away, but Joker motioned him even closer, until he was almost right on top of you both.
“This true, Bud?” Joker asked.
The masked man held his tongue for a moment. His whole body seemed tense. And if you had to guess, he was likely glaring daggers at you from behind the mask. And then finally, a soft sigh escaped him, body relaxing as he nodded. 
“Yeah, boss,” he admitted. “It was me.”
“And do you have anything to say to my darling here?”
Your breath caught in your throat as the goon turned directly toward you. You tried to keep totally still. Don't flinch. Don't show fear. You could feel his gaze burn into you. And Joker's grip tightened on your shoulder. Maybe reassuringly. Maybe possessively. 
The masked goon paused, simply staring at you, before he gave a lazy nod. “Yeah. ‘M sorry.”
Huh. That wasn't so bad. Turning to look at Joker you saw him nodding. A relieved smile began to bloom onto your face as you turned back to-
The sound of unfolding metal hit your ears. A gloved hand stretched out and yanking through hair. The stumbling forward of a body and. Your eyes widened as Joker grunted, pocket knife sinking into the man's throat.
He held it there for a moment, looking deep into the eyes of the man behind the mask, before wrenching the knife out. Blood spurted from the man’s neck as he gurgle, clutching his throat. Again, Joker struck, plunging deep into the man's neck and ripping it out. Again. Again. Again. And all you could do was watch, eyes the size of dinner plates and mouth agape in horror.
You finally found the ability to move your body again, and you hunkered down, hiding your eyes with your hands and stumbling back as Joker continued his assault. You shivered and shuddered, beginning to cry. You couldn't see it anymore, but you could hear the sounds of the blade meeting flesh, the desperate and violent gurgles of someone drowning in their own blood, the quick and sharp grunts of Joker as he plunged his knife in and out in and out in and out in and out-
You couldn't tell how long it went on, only that at some point, you couldn't hear anything else besides Joker's shaky breathing and the harsh whistling of the wind. Your hands and cheeks stung from cold and tears.
When you dared to uncover your eyes, The Joker was looking back at you. As if he was waiting for you to see - to see your attacker's head barely connected to his neck, near decapitated. The moment he saw the recognition in your eyes, the man's body was dropped like it was nothing.
"But, but," You stuttered, mouth trying to catch up with your mind. "You said, you said you weren't mad?'
"Not at you, darling," he smiled adoringly. "Never at you."
The Joker pocketed his bloody knife and clapped his hands free, addressing his men. “Now, let that be a lesson for all of you,” the clown leaned over to wrap an arm around your shoulder. You quickly cuddled into his hold (but only because of the cold. Only that and nothing more). Joker finished with a grin, “anyone who hurts my darling gets the same.”
Breathing heavily, your eyes surveyed the reactions of the henchmen. For some reason, you felt torn on how you felt about them. Pitied Joker's treatment of them, but was highly aware of their perspective of you being an obstacle, inconvenience, or even enemy-
You nearly jumped as Joker brought you out of thoughts by a kiss to the cheek. You were quickly turned around, The Joker guiding you inside and nuzzling against your cheek.
“You must be so stressed out, dear! C’mon, let's get warmed up inside and watch some cartoons!"
And when you're both inside, curled up together in a mound of blankets and cartoons playing on the screen, you tried to convince yourself tje obly reason you held him back was out of fear and to keep out the cold.
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[Lily's Post]
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Look I know alot of you think my criticisms of A Place Further Than the Universe are only cause Lorch likes it but there is absolutely zero focus on science in the show and that's part of my problem with it.
It really is just a slice of a life focused entirely on getting 4 high school girls on a big technical boat for purity moeblob gooners.
At one point the girls go outside on the ship, alone, at night, during a storm, getting soaked by freezing cold ocean water in their pajamas against a thin rail they could easily get swept away from and this is treated as cute rather than idiotically suicidal. They just giggle and talk about how salty the water is.
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SCIENCE!
None of the 4 girls are interested in anything STEM related. They all just want to go to Antartica because that's the plot.
Kimari just wants to do "something with her youth" because that's how 50 year old Jukki Hanada thinks 15 year old girls talk, Hinata just overheard them talking about it in the convenience store she works at and thought it sounded neat, and Yuzuki is only going cause she's like a minor child star celebrity idol vlogger or some shit and her manager mom (who is NOT accompanying her) thought sending her on a Japanese civilian expedition to Antarctica would be... good PR? Yuzuki also the only way the other girls even conveniently get on the trip.
Shirase at least HAS a reason, even if its a desperate, stupid one based on grief. Her mom disappeared out there 3 years ago and she wants to "find" her (more she just wants closure and is clinging to a childish hope her mom is still alive.) But Shirase's mom ALSO was NOT a scientist and ALSO just went to Antarctica just because she thought it sounded neat. And died in a blizzard out there trying to retrieve a laptop so she could email her daughter a photo of the aurora australis.
The girls get like one night of tent training and thats it. They don't even have to be in peak physical condition for a trip to one of the most dangerous places on Earth. It is barely about this expedition, its just there as an excuse to put moe high school girls next to accurately rendered machinery.
Here's how I'd rewrite this show: if it HAS to be high school girls maybe have the four attend the same school and be into different aspects of research. Maybe Hinata wants to be an engineer, Shirase is following in her artic researcher mother's footsteps despite the danger, Yuzuki could still run a popular vlog but maybe its climate science and no one takes her seriously cause she's a young girl believing she's just the presenter being fed information by a team, and Kimari could just be getting introduced to these fields she never even thought about before. And they're all trying to earn a grant that will allow them to go on the expedition.
But I suppose "girls and women being scientists" is too much of a stretch of the imagination for an aging Japanese man.
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