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#but enjoy this quickly splashed on color
rinshairandthoughts · 26 days
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Just threw some color on this because I could.
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forlix · 1 year
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𝘀𝘂𝗯𝘁𝗲𝘅𝘁・l.f.
— in which you forget that your hot housemate follows you on twitter.
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𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱𝘀・1.1k 𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴・roommate!felix x gn!streamer!reader 𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲𝘀・fluff, flirting, kind of an smau, implied friends to lovers, humor if u count jeongin being a piece of shit
𝗮/𝗻・saw this tweet the other day and it was so painfully lix coded that i knew i had to write something asap. contains a tiny bit of gaming jargon but is hopefully comprehensible. ENJOY ♡
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y/n ꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱₊˚⊹ @ y/nxx
if someone brings you fresh cut fruit to your table when you're gaming, they either like LIKE you or it's your mom
11:23 A.M.・Oct. 2023・220.2K Views
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bokkie 🐣 liked your post.
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“My tweet?”
You read aloud the newest text in your chatroom, and your face brightens when you remember the one in question.
“Oh, about the fruit—no, it’s so true though. And I love my mom, don't get me wrong, but I have an inkling she did it to guilt trip me." You change your posture and adopt your best motherly tone of voice. "‘This is your tenth consecutive hour wasting your young adulthood in front of that damn screen. I am now going to hand deliver apple slices straight to your mouth.’ That kind of vibe, y'know?"
A slew of messages follows your anecdote, but it is a comment from one of your moderators that catches your eye first:
je0ng1n: what about the other option tho 👀
You groan at the sight of his username. “Man, why are you always here? Don't you have a job?"
je0ng1n: i’m on break je0ng1n: taking a dump je0ng1n: ungrateful bitch
You brandish a middle finger to the camera. “Hope the dump sucks."
je0ng1n: HEY je0ng1n: don’t even joke about that :(
An involuntary cackle precedes your next words. “If you’re actually wondering, though, the only person who’s brought me fruit while I’m playing video games is indeed my mother. Heartbreaking, I know.”
At this, the steady flow of messages morphs into a gallery of depressed cat emoticons; your audience never fails to impress you with their way with words.
“But if someone other than your disappointed parent is bringing you fruit,” you go on, “they might as well get on one knee in the process, honestly. That's such an adorable, loving thing to do.”
Suddenly, the words MATCH FOUND splash across your monitor, and you move your cursor to accept the game invite—only to be met with a pop-up window and a familiar error sound that grates on your ears like screeching tires.
You know how this story ends: the lights in your mouse go dark, and you look on in dejected silence.
je0ng1n: LMFAOOOOO je0ng1n: bro’s mouse definitely just exploded again
“You guessed it," you sigh. “Hang tight for a sec, guys."
Half an hour ago, you could’ve sworn you heard sneakers being kicked off, a set of keys falling against plastic. Now, you pull one side of your headphones off and roll your chair a few feet backward, calling through your half-open door: “Lix, are you home?”
You pick up on a soft clunk that sounds like metal hitting wood—the cutting board, maybe?—and then your housemate's low, accented answer bounces off the walls of your shared hallway.
“Yeah, you alright?”
“The mouse,” you say helplessly.
“Ah.” It’s not the first time you’ve summoned him for this. “Be right there.”
A few seconds later, you remember to tack on a hurried disclaimer: “I’m live, by the way!”
“I know.”
This brings a bashful smile to your face, though the expression quickly turns to one of pure dismay when you return to your desk and witness the disastrous state of your chat.
Felix has become a regular guest on your stream by now, always popping in to show you a TikTok or ask for your opinion on a new pair of jeans or simply give your camera an awkward wave—but he may as well own your channel with how completely and unequivocally he has captured the hearts of your viewers. They’re convinced he’s the sexiest person to ever grace the earth, with his chiseled features and coffee-colored eyes; with a grin that could set entire estates on fire and a voice that could scrape the nadir of the Grand Canyon.
Do you agree? Absolutely.
Do you have any intention of voicing this sentiment, so long as you’re splitting rent with him? Absolutely the hell not.
Another of Jeongin’s messages—GET ME HIS NUMBER OR I GET VIOLENT—inspires you to minimize the stream window before Felix gets here. It’s for the best.
A few moments later, the door opens, and the air shifts inside your room. A hand comes to rest on the top of your head; a familiar silhouette appears in your periphery. There is a fond grin plastered across your face and a bright greeting sitting readily on the tip of your tongue.
But then, Felix places a plate of freshly cut fruit in the empty space to the left of your keyboard—here, he hums, the sound falling against the shell of your ear like a drop of melted chocolate. And the gears of your brain grind to a complete stop.
There is no further acknowledgment; no supplementary explanation for what he's just done. He simply picks up your mouse and gets to work.
The words of your tweet swim dizzyingly before your eyes, not unlike those halos of stars and birds that revolve around disoriented cartoon characters. And you’re suddenly, achingly aware of your roommate's arm nudging against yours as he tinkers away; of the aromas of vanilla and laundry detergent that always come with his proximity; of the heat that’s risen to your face, and the plethora of questions that have surfaced to your mind.
A soft huff of laughter follows a gentle utterance of your name, and you snap out of your trance. Felix’s eyes are glinting with amusement when you meet them.
“It’s been recalibrated,” he says, handing back your mouse. “Just give it a few minutes.”
Your fingertips brush over his palm when you accept the object, and even this blink of contact has your heart performing an elaborate hopscotch routine across the plane of your chest.
It’s either your mom, or…
“Thank you,” you mumble, finally retrieving your larynx from the bottom of the Atlantic.
“Anytime,” Felix returns, and you know he means it. “You need a duo, by the way?"
“Yes, please.”
He gives you a warm smile at this, and there’s a hint of something else—something new—in the curve of his lips. “Give me two.” And he’s gone as quickly as he'd come.
You will never know how Felix slips his phone out of his pocket the second he emerges from your room, his pulse hounding his ears as he turns a nervous gaze upon his screen.
There is now a supersonic blur of messages saturating your chatroom, a colorful cacophony of moving emotes and capital letters, but he is focused wholly on the person in front of the camera and how you slowly lift a hand to your mouth, deathly silent despite your every viewer demanding your comment on the matter, your sanguine cheeks visible even through the gaps of your fingers.
That is all he needs to know.
Felix sinks into the leather of his gaming chair and bends to power on his computer. Only after a deep breath blows past his lips does his smile start to stretch into a grin, every bit as embarrassed as it is relieved.
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je0ng1n: no way je0ng1n: no fucking way je0ng1n: my heart fluttered je0ng1n: wtf je0ng1n: how’d you pull HIM??
y/nxx has removed je0ng1n as a moderator of this channel.
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𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸? please consider reblogging, commenting, or sending me an ask to let me know; or, read my other works here. thanks so much for the support ♡
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© 𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗹𝗶𝘅 (est. 090323) · all works are pieces of original writing and all characters and relationships are purely fictional. please do not repost or reuse for any reason.
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angelbwrry · 1 month
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𝒮𝒜𝒯𝐼𝒱𝒜. 𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧 𝐣. 𝟗𝐤.
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𝐜𝐰꣑ৎ spiritual! reader x skater! eren, smut with a plot, cannabis consumption, outside sex, facial, ass eating, fingering, oral, boob job, praise, creaming, use of the n word, explicit language, multiple orgasms, lots of flufffff . . . or in which you remind him of a fairy. mdni.
𝐥 𝐞 𝐱 𝐢’ 𝐬 𝐧 𝐨 𝐭 𝐞 𝐬꣑ৎ i hate this???? alsooooo ignore any errors, i did edit but there’s prob still errorssss. i wasn’t gonna post but i want it out of my drafts. as alwaysssss please reblog, like, or comment if you enjoy :)
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the woods are a tranquil haven, bathed in the golden hues of summer. the air is crisp, with a gentle breeze that occasionally stirs the leaves, sending whispers through the trees. the soft voice of jhene aiko plays from a speaker perched against a sturdy oak, her melodies blending seamlessly with the sounds of nature.
you sit on the yoga mat, eyes closed in deep meditation, posture serene and composed. this moment, surrounded by the beauty and calm of the forest is exactly what you needed after a long stressful week.
the world outside fades away, leaving only the harmonious symphony of the woods and the soothing cadence of your breath. the forest is alive, yet peaceful, with birds singing their songs and the distant rustle of small creatures moving through the underbrush. sunlight filters through the canopy, creating a kaleidoscope of light and shadow on the forest floor, where wildflowers bloom in vibrant colors, adding splashes of pink, yellow, and purple to the green expanse.
the brook nearby gurgles softly, its clear waters reflecting the sky above. the air is filled with the rich scent of pine and earth, grounding you even more deeply in your practice. as you breathe in, you feel the coolness of the breeze on your skin, and as you exhale, you release the tension of the past week.
each moment here is a gift, a reminder of the simple, profound beauty of nature and the peace it brings to the soul. this is your sanctuary, a place where you can reconnect with yourself and find the balance you seek.
eren was just looking for a place to smoke; he hadn’t expected to see anyone out here this far in. so, you can imagine his shock when he laid eyes on you. he pauses, confused, wondering what you’re doing there. his presence disrupts the serenity, and you can feel his eyes on you, piercing through the quiet like an uninvited guest.
the soft rustling of leaves under his feet seems louder in the stillness, and the faint scent of weed mingles with the fresh air. he hesitates, torn between retreating to give you back your peace and staying to satisfy his curiosity.
“do you always spy on women like this?” a hint of annoyance and curiosity laces your voice.
he kisses his teeth and responds with a smirk, "only when they’re doing something as weird as this." his remark hangs in the air, a blend of sarcasm and intrigue.
you narrow your eyes at him, feeling the tension rise. "it’s called meditation," you quickly retort, trying to maintain your calm demeanor. "ever heard of it?"
eren shrugs, shaking his head. "yeah . . i’ve heard of it. just never seen anyone take it so seriously out here in the middle of nowhere."
you take a deep breath, trying to center yourself again. "well, it's my way of finding peace. what about you? what's your excuse for being out here?"
he shrugs again, pulling a joint from his pocket and lighting it up. "needed a place to chill. didn't expect to find anyone else out here." his piercing green eyes meet yours, and for a moment, the forest seems to hold its breath. despite the initial friction, there's an undeniable curiosity between you two.
you watch him take a drag, the smoke curling around his face, and wonders what stories he carries with him. he looks at you, seeing more than just a girl meditating in the woods, sensing a depth he hadn't expected to find.
"mind if i join you?" he asks, surprising even himself with the question. you hesitate, then nod slowly. “sure, just . . keep it quiet, okay?"
he grins, settling down a few feet away from you. "deal."
you have to admit, he’s a sight for sore eyes. he sits there, effortlessly cool in a plain black shirt layered over a long-sleeved white one, paired with baggy black cargo pants that seem to hang just right. his white air forces are scuffed, telling stories of countless adventures. his chocolate hair is pulled back by a dark blue bandana, though a few rebellious strands fall into his face, which he occasionally brushes away with a casual flick.
his face is a perfect blend of chiseled and soft, like a sculptor’s masterpiece given life. but the thing that pulls you in the most is his eyes. they look tired, with faint shadows beneath them hinting at sleepless nights or deep thoughts. yet, despite the weariness, they hold a captivating beauty, like a forest after the rain, fresh and full of secrets. it’s easy to get lost in them, and as your gaze travels, you notice his eyebrow piercing, the tiny piece of metal gleaming in the sun, adding a touch of edge to his already striking appearance.
“what’s your name?” he asks, blunt wrapped in between his fingers as he looks at you.
“ೀ?” your voice is soft as you speak, it makes him smile.
"i’m eren . . . or ren, guess it doesn’t really matter." he inhales another puff of the toxin, eyes watching as the smoke floats. "so, you come out here like a weirdo all the time?” he doesn’t look at you as he asks this, opting to swipe dirt with his thumb off the side of his shoe.
not like it would do anything; those shoes had come to the end of their life.
“nig-,” deep breaths. “ i come here to to find peace and clarity. the forest has a way of . . grounding me, i guess.” eren nods, he’s intrigued. “i get that. sometimes i come out here to escape too. different reason, but i guess we’re both looking for something. meditation though . . . wouldn’t mind trying it.”
your brown eyes study him for a moment, noticing the way his eyes soften as he talks. "you don’t seem like the type to meditate." an innocent, playful smile forms on your lips as you tease him.
you catch the slight twitch at the corner of his mouth, almost like he’s fighting back a grin. his rough exterior seems to crack just a bit, revealing a glimpse of vulnerability. the way he shifts his weight tells you he’s not used to being scrutinized like this.
he laughs, “yeah, well, i might surprise you. maybe you could teach me sometime?”
fluffy eyebrows raise on your forehead, “you really want to learn how to meditate?”
“why not? could be fun,” he says, leaning back on his elbows. “plus, it means i get to hang out with you more.”
is he flirting? he is definitely flirting.
eren finds you extremely cute, especially now that he was so close to you, breathing in your perfume—sandalwood? he presumes. you remind him of a fairy. with your curly hair pulled back by a emerald green scarf, edges smoothed to perfection across your forehead, curls dancing wildly in the wind. a crotched strapless bikini top clings to your chest and he finds it hard not to stare at your boobs.
or the way your waist-beads cling to your curvy hips that adorn a long green skirt that matches your scarf. his eyes linger on you, taking in every detail, as if trying to memorize the moment. the soft glow of the setting sun casts a warm hue on your skin, making you look almost ethereal in the fading light.
he notices the way your smile reaches your eyes, creating a sparkle that makes his heart skip a beat. your presence exudes a calm yet vibrant energy that he can't quite put his finger on. the gentle sway of your skirt in the breeze, the way your voice mingles with the rustling leaves, and the subtle scent of your perfume—all these little details make it impossible for him to look away.
“alright . . . i guess i could show you, but you can’t get bored and back out, okay?”
“me back out? pft, never.” he once again kisses his teeth, raising the joint to his mouth. he wonders if you smoke, and before he knows it, he's extending the joint to you. you grab it, bringing it up to your lips and inhaling deeply. it's been so long since you last smoked; you were trying to stop. but who were you to decline such a generous offer from your new friend?
as the smoke fills your lungs, you feel a mix of nostalgia and slight guilt. you glance at him, noticing the way his eyes study you, curious and slightly amused.
you exhale slowly, watching the smoke swirl and dissipate into the air. the joint passes back to him, and he takes a drag, his eyes never leaving yours.
“alright. we’ll meet back here tomorrow at five.” you watch as he nods.
“so, what do you do when you’re not meditating?”
you shrug, pulling your knees into your chest and resting your head on them. “i’m a student, i also teach yoga classes at a wellness center in town. what about you?”
“well, i’m also a student. and when i’m not balls deep in essays, i skate. and if i’m not skating, i’m at work”
you lean in, “where do you work?”
“record store. it’s not much, but i love it.”
"music is powerful," you finally speak up after a few seconds. "it can be a form of meditation too, y’know?”
he looks at you, surprised. "really? never thought of it that way."
you nod. "it’s all about finding what brings you peace and helps you connect with yourself."
eren takes another drag from his joint, considering your words. "you know, you're pretty cool. different, but cool."
you can’t help but laugh softly. "i’m gonna take that as a compliment. you’re not so bad yourself, eren.”
time flew by as you sat there with eren in the woods, chatting about everything and nothing. the ambiance of the forest, the rustling leaves, and the distant call of birds created a serene backdrop that made the conversation flow effortlessly. you weren't sure if it was the weed, but you found him incredibly easy to talk to. his presence was comforting, and you felt a sense of ease that you hadn't experienced in a long time.
you even let him sit beside you on your mat, feeling your arms brush together occasionally. each touch sending a subtle, yet significant, wave of warmth through you, making you realize how much you enjoyed his company.
eventually, eren glanced at his watch and sighed. "i have to get to work," he said reluctantly, standing up and brushing off his pants.
"already?" you asked, unable to hide the disappointment in your voice.
"sadly, duty calls," he replies with a small smile. "but i really enjoyed this. i’ll see you tomorrow."
you nodded, feeling a mix of contentment and longing. "definitely. it was nice talking to you, eren." he gave you one last lingering look before turning to leave.
"take care, weirdo.”
you roll your eyes, fighting the smile on your lips as you watch him walk away.
౨ৎ
you’d be lying if you said you weren’t a bit bummed that he hadn’t shown up the next evening. you racked your brain for excuses on why he’d flaked out on you. had he been faking interest in you? maybe something urgent had come up, or perhaps he just wasn’t as intrigued by your shared passion as he had seemed. you didn’t even know why it bothered you so much; he was just a guy. a guy that you’d talked to for less than an hour.
so why was he plaguing your mind?
the summer sun glistened off your skin as you made your way to the record store, each step feeling heavier with the weight of your thoughts.
was it a bit stalkerish? yes. did you care? no.
curiosity was gnawing you alive, and no matter how much you meditated and tried to ease your mind, you couldn’t shake eren. the memory of his smile and the way his eyes lit up when he spoke lingered, making it impossible to forget.
you replayed every moment of your conversation, analyzing every word and gesture. was there something you missed? some sign that he wasn’t as interested as you thought? the more you thought about it, the more questions arose, each one more frustrating than the last.
the record store came into view, the only one in town. you took a deep breath and pushed open the door, the cool air inside a welcome relief from the summer heat.
you knew it was him. you could see that familiar chestnut hair pulled back by a bandana, this time a light pink one. his back was turned to you so he didn’t notice you gawking. a bored “welcome,” spilling from his lips. he was talking to a customer who you assumed was asking a question about something.
the record store had a cozy, nostalgic vibe. the walls were lined with wooden shelves, each packed with vinyl records of every genre imaginable. posters of classic rock bands and vintage album covers adorned the walls, giving the place a retro feel. the floor was a mix of worn hardwood and patterned rugs that added to the charm. small potted plants sat on the windowsills, basking in the sunlight that filtered through the large front windows. the light streaming in creating a warm inviting glow.
in one corner, a listening station was set up with old-school headphones and a turntable, inviting customers to sample the music before making a purchase. the air was filled with the faint scent of aged paper and vinyl, mixed with a hint of incense burning somewhere in the back. soft indie music playing in the background, creating a relaxed atmosphere that made you feel at ease.
“do you always spy on men like this?”
touché.
“only when they lie to me.” you turn around, eren’s hand is propped under his chin as he looks at you.
“well, i didn’t lie.”
you fold your arms over your chest, “so why the no show?”
he rubbed the back of his neck, a sheepish smile playing on his lips.
“s’ kinda embarrassing but i couldn’t find the spot," he admitted, his eyes darting away for a moment before meeting yours again. "got turned around. i tried shouting your name, guess i was too far." he shrugs.
you immediately felt like an asshole for assuming he was a liar, and of course, stalking him. embarrassment washed over you, leaving you momentarily speechless. as if he could read your mind, he spoke up again, his voice soft and reassuring.
“for what it’s worth, i’m glad you decided to stalk me.” he said with a playful smirk. it was hard to fight the smile at his words.
"you’re so weird," you laugh.
god, he could get used to the sound of that. he doesn’t know how but you look even prettier since the last time he’d seen you. today you wore a green flare long-sleeved top that showed your midriff, and a white skirt that showcased your brown smooth strawberry legs. your hair frames your face in waves a single fish braid with jewelry shimmering brightly, scent of mango filling his nose as the fan breezes you.
“maybe. but you’re a little weird too," he teases. "my shift is almost over. let me walk you home? we can get ice cream or something on the way. my treat for flaking." the sincerity in his offer made your heart flutter, and you couldn’t help but nod, feeling a hint of excitement.
so you waited, and waited, and waited until eren’s replacement came. he looked a bit bummed when he’d pushed open the doors and didn’t see you, eyes lighting up as he saw you sitting outside on the bench.
"thought you ditched," he laughed, a hint of relief in his voice.
“i’m not like you."
“shut up," he said playfully, giving your shoulder a gentle push.
you stood up, and as you walked side by side, the tension from earlier seemed to dissolve. the evening air cool and refreshing, a stark contrast to the warmth of the day.
"so, where to?" he asks, glancing over at you with a curious expression.
"how about that ice-cream you promised?" you suggest, your grin widening.
"deal," he replies, his smile mirroring yours.
as you made your way to the ice cream shop, the conversation flowed easily once again. you talked about everything and nothing, sharing stories and laughing at each other's jokes. it was as if the time you spent waiting had never happened, replaced by the comfort of his presence.
"i thought you were weird, but you’re an actual freak.”eren’s face scrunches as he watches you eat the mint ice-cream. “what are you, a toothpaste enthusiast?"
you roll your eyes playfully. "oh please, mr.chocolate. you can't get more basic than that."
a smirk pulls on his lips. "what can i say? i like chocolate,” he takes a look at you before continuing his comment, “it’s rich and satisfying.”
you can feel your neck warm at his comment. "rich and satisfying? more like predictable," you shoot back, trying to hide your smile.
"predictable? i think you mean dependable," he says, leaning in a bit closer. "besides, chocolate has layers, just like me."
"layers, huh? are you saying you're deep and mysterious?" you ask, raising an eyebrow, your voice dripping with playful challenge.
"maybe i am," he grins, eyes locking onto yours. "but can you handle all these layers?" he took a slow, deliberate bite of his ice cream, his gaze never leaving your face.
you laugh, trying to shake off the butterflies in your stomach. "please, i can handle anything you throw at me."
"that a challenge?" his smirk widens, and you can see the mischief in his eyes.
"maybe it is," you whisper, leaning in just a little, your faces inches apart. "what are you gonna do about it?"
he pauses, his eyes flicking to your lips for just a second before meeting your gaze again. "i guess you'll have to wait and see," he murmurs, voice low and teasing.
you swallow hard, the air between you thick with unspoken tension. "well, don't keep me waiting too long," you hum, voice barely above a whisper.
he sucks his teeth, leaning back but never breaking eye contact. "wouldn’t dream of it. after all, good things come to those who wait."
"is that so?" you take a bite of your ice-cream with a raised brow.
"absolutely.”
the urge to press his lips against yours is strong, but he refrains. you’re so damn intoxicating. your laugh, your smile. he can't help but admire the way the beads around your waist gently clink with your every movement, adding a mesmerizing rhythm to your presence.
"you ready? i wanna show you something," eren’s voice is filled with excitement as he leans in closer. his eyes sparkling with anticipation, a clear sign that he had something special planned.
you raise an eyebrow at him, curiosity piqued. "show me what?" you try to read his expression and figure out what he could possibly have up his sleeve.
eren clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth and nudges you with a elbow. "wouldn't be a surprise if i told you," a mischievous grin spreading across his face.
"come on, just a hint?" you pout, poking your lip out, voice tinged with playful desperation, hoping he might give in and reveal a little bit more.
he shakes his head, his grin widening even further. "nope, not a chance. you'll just have to trust me," he says, his tone teasing yet sincere. he holds out his hand, waiting for you to take it.
you hesitate for a moment, placing your hand in his. his fingers wrap around yours, warm and reassuring. "alright, lead the way," you huff, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness as you follow him.
he led you through the park, the summer sun casting a golden glow on everything around you. the scent of blooming flowers filled the air, and the sound of birds chirping added a serene backdrop to your walk. you couldn't help but steal glances at him, wondering what he had planned and why he seemed so eager.
after a short walk, he stopped in front of a skate park. you looked around, confused as to how this could be the surprise. "a skate park?" you asked, a puzzled expression on your face.
he turned to you, his grin never fading. "yep, but that's not the surprise," he said, his eyes twinkling with amusement. he walked over to a nearby bench and picked up a skateboard, holding it out to you.
your confusion deepenes. "what's this for?" you asked, taking the skateboard from him and examining it.
he laughs, clearly enjoying your bewilderment.
"remember when you said, 'i can handle anything you throw at me'?" he asked, mimicking your earlier words with a playful tone.
you blink, the memory of your bold statement coming back to you. "wait, you want me to get on this?"
he nodded, his grin widening even more. "yep, it's time to see if you can really handle it," he said, voice filled with challenge and encouragement.
you looked at the skateboard, then back at him. a smile slowly spread across your face as you realized he was serious. "alright, let's do this," you said, feeling a surge of determination.
he helped you onto the skateboard, guiding you with patience and care. as you started to find your balance, you couldn't help but feel a sense of exhilaration.
with eren’s support and encouragement, you began to glide across the smooth surface, laughter and excitement filling the air.
he can’t help but smile as he watches you glide effortlessly on the skateboard, movements fluid and confident. you’re a natural, and it’s a sight that fills him with a mix of admiration and anxiety. he hasn’t felt this way in a long time, and the intensity of his emotions is both exhilarating and terrifying.
“look at you go, weirdo!” eren shouts, his voice carrying a note of pride and encouragement. you giggle, a sound that’s music to his ears, as you try to maintain your balance. skating wasn’t as hard as you thought it would be, probably because you’d spent so many of your younger years ice skating.
your continuous laughter rings out, blending with the sounds of the city around them, as you weave in and out of the path, occasionally glancing back to see him watching you with that same mesmerized expression.
time seems to blur as you skate, lost in the rhythm and joy of the moment. eventually, your legs begin to tire, and you decide to slow down, making your way back to where eren’s standing. you’re slightly out of breath, cheeks flushed with exertion and happiness, but the smile on your face is radiant. as you come to a stop in front of him, you can see the admiration in his eyes, a look that makes your heart skip a beat.
he thought you were interesting before, but now? god, he was entranced by you. every movement, every laugh, every glance – it all captivated him. you’re more than just a pretty face; you’re a whirlwind of energy and grace, and he finds himself drawn to you like never before.
he watches you intently, his eyes tracing the delicate lines of your face as you stand in front of him, bathed in the soft glow of the setting sun. your hair cascades in gentle waves, catching the light and creating a halo effect that makes you look almost ethereal.
"you know, you really were amazing out there. i couldn’t take my eyes off you."
"thank you, told you i could handle anything," you huff, voice tinged with a mix of shyness and pride.
“so i see,” eren hums.
the air between you is charged with an unspoken tension, a magnetic pull that seems to draw you together. he reaches out, his fingers brushing against your skin as he gently tucks a strand behind your ear. the touch is light, almost hesitant, but it sends a shiver down your spine.
"you’re making me nervous," you laugh softly.
“sorry . . you just look beautiful,” he murmurs, his voice filled with genuine admiration. the words hang in the air, carrying a weight of sincerity that makes your heart flutter. you looks up at him, doe eyes wide and vulnerable, and for a moment, everything else fades away. it’s just the two of you, standing on the precipice of something new and exciting.
"stop it," playfully you swat his arm, but you can’t hide your smile.
“you’re too much," you say, shaking your head.
"just the right amount, i think," he counters.
he leans in slightly, his breath warm against your ear. “i should get you back to your dorm,” he whispers, the intimacy of the moment making his words feel like a shared secret. you nod, teeth catching your bottom lip as you try to steady your racing heart.
“yeah,” you reply softly, voice barely above a whisper. the simplicity of the word belies the complexity of your emotions, a swirl of excitement, nervousness, and anticipation. you two start walking, the silence between you comfortable and filled with unspoken words.
౨ৎ
you and eren had been consistently hanging out for about a month now, and each hangout was a new adventure, filled with different activities that brought you closer together. sometimes, you’d find yourselves smoking in the woods, the thick canopy above creating a serene and private atmosphere where the world seemed to fade away. other times, you’d meditate together among the trees, the sounds of nature providing a calming backdrop as you both sought inner peace and clarity.
you both enjoyed skating, feeling the rush of wind as you glided down streets and paths, laughing and challenging each other to tricks and races. often, you’d sit and listen to eren passionately talk about his favorite music pieces, his eyes lighting up with every word as he explained the intricacies and emotions behind each note.
even though you weren’t officially dating, eren had brought up the topic, but you wanted to wait a bit longer. perhaps it was your commitment issues, but you needed to be sure he was the one before you took that step. it terrified you how fast you were falling for him. he was perfect—sweet, kind, considerate, and cute—everything you’d ever wanted in a partner.
yet, despite all his wonderful qualities, you found yourself second-guessing. the fear of getting hurt or making the wrong choice loomed over you, casting a shadow on your budding feelings.
you still hadn’t had sex, just shared the occasional kisses that left your heart racing. you appreciated how patient he was with you, never pushing your boundaries and always respecting your pace.
“am i doing this right?" eren sits perched on the blanket you’d brought along. usually, you’d just bring your mat, but he wanted to sit closer to the water today. the brook's gentle babbling and the sunlight dancing on the surface created a serene and calming atmosphere. you can’t but giggle at him, his legs awkwardly crossed over each other, his face scrunched up in concentration. you smile and place your hands on his back, gently guiding him.
“straighten up," you say, your touch soft but firm. he adjusts his posture, looking up at you with a grateful smile, and you can’t help but feel a surge of affection for him.
“have i told you how beautiful you are?” eren hums.
“yep. only everyday.”
“well it’s true, c’mere.”
giggling, you crawl over to him and press a kiss against his lips. the kiss starts off soft, a gentle brush that sends a shiver down your spine. slowly, it deepens, becoming more intense and passionate. you can feel the warmth of his breath mingling with yours, his hands gently cradling your face as he pulls you closer. he slides his hands down to your waist, pulling you firmly against him. in response, you straddle him, feeling the connection between you intensify.
“are you ready... because we don’t have to—” eren starts, his voice tinged with uncertainty. you cut him off, smiling down at him with a mix of admiration and tenderness. “i’m ready,” you whisper, your voice steady and reassuring. leaning in, you place a gentle kiss on the corner of his lips, a gentle promise of your commitment.
he nods, his eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitation. finding none, his fingers move to the hem of your dress, the fabric cool against his warm touch. with deliberate care, he pulls it over your head, the dress slipping away to reveal the trust and anticipation that lie between you.
“so f’kin pretty,” he mutters, his voice thick with desire as his hands knead your bare breast between his fingers. the sensation sends a shiver down your spine, and you groan, eyelids fluttering shut.
you feel the warm, wet touch of his tongue as it circles your sensitive nipples, each lick sending waves of pleasure through your body. his movements are slow and deliberate, heightening the intensity of every touch, and you can't help but arch into him, craving more.
“ren, touch me please.” your voice is strangled and needy as you speak.
“and i thought i was the impatient one,” eren kisses his teeth, gently placing you on your back. you hadn’t been wearing underwear nor a bra, and eren was twitching as he soaked you in, legs slightly parted.
“shut up,” you breathe out shakily, watching eren lower himself to you. there’s a dark glint in his eyes and you swallow thickly, your arousal leaking onto the blanket. he groans at the beautiful sight, his hands roaming possessively over your body, taking in every inch of you with a hunger that makes your heart race.
his fingers trace the curves of your hips, moving up to cup your breasts, thumbs brushing over your nipples, sending jolts of pleasure through you. his lips follow, trailing hot kisses down your neck, pausing to nip and suck at your sensitive skin, making you hiss.
his gentle pecks lead down to your pussy, his large hands kneading the soft flesh. the way you fill his hands drives him wild; he can't get enough of your thick ass.
“o-oh fuck,” a whiny sigh fumbles from your lips as you feel eren’s tongue on your slick cunt, hands still digging into your flesh as he slowly glides his tongue over you.
you’re the perfect blend of sweet and salty, a taste that leaves his mouth watering, hands desperately tugging you further onto his face. eren had barely started, yet here you were trembling underneath him. falling apart as he licked, kissed, and sucked on your bud.
"tsk, tsk, tsk. already trembling?" he murmurs, his voice dripping with tease. he takes advantage of your flexibility, pushing your legs until your knees almost touch your face. his eyes darken with desire as he watches your body bend to his will, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips.
here you were, in all your glory. your wet pussy quivering with need, asshole begging for him to stick a finger inside. every inch of your skin tingles with anticipation as you feel his intense gaze drinking in the sight of you.
“e-eren!” you mewl out as his tongue spazzes against your throbbing clit. his subtle deep hums sending vibrations through your body.
“love when you say my name like that,” he grunts, lips coated with your juices as he presses a tender kiss on your shaking inner thigh. the sensation of his warm breath against your skin only heightens your arousal, making you arch your back against the blanket.
his hands roam over your body, fingers tracing every curve and dip, igniting sparks of pleasure with each touch. he moves his mouth back to your trembling clit, tongue flicking and swirling, driving you wild with desire. your fingers tangle in his hair, pulling him closer as your moans fill the air, the tension building to an almost unbearable peak.
"f-feels s-so good!" you cry out, your voice trembling with pleasure as his tongue flutters against your aching pussy. his hands grip your thighs firmly, holding you in place as he licks and teases each movement sending waves of ecstasy through your body. your hips bucking involuntarily, seeking more of his touch, as you felt the heat pooling in your core, ready to overflow.
he eases your slick folds open and slurps at them, each stroke of his tongue sending shivers through your body, making you writhe in pleasure.
"mgnhn!" you cry out as his tongue flutters against your aching pussy quicker, the sensation overwhelming you. your hands gripping the blanket tightly, knuckles turning white as you tried to hold on.
“this shit so beautiful,” he groans out, his dick hardening in his gray sweatpants. his eyes are locked on your face, watching every expression of ecstasy that crossed it. he has to reach down to adjust himself, the sight of you driving him wild with desire.
you gulp back a sob as he slides two thick fingers inside you. your pussy holding his fingers firmly as you adjusted, the sensation both overwhelming and intoxicating.
his fingers began to move, slowly at first, teasing you as they explored every inch of your inner walls. soon, gentle moans escaped your open mouth, the squelching noises of eren playing in your pussy echoing throughout the forest, mixing with the sound of your heavy breathing.
“doing so well, pretty,” eren coos, voice dripping with lust. he pumps his fingers at a quicker speed, his thumb circling your clit in tandem. dark eyes watching your every reaction as his fingers curled inside you, hitting that perfect spot.
“ughh’m fuck,” your back arches off the blanket as you feel the pleasure building, ready to explode. his free hand grips your thigh, holding you steady as he works you closer to the edge, the intensity of his touch making your whole body tremble.
“you’re so tight,” he murmurs, breath hot against your thigh. “do you like the way i’m making you feel?”
“yes, eren,” you whimper, voice filled with need. “don’t stop, please.”
“i won’t,” he grins, fingers kissing your cervix as they moved even faster. “i want to hear you scream my name when you come.”
eren’s fingers were so damn deep inside you it made you cry out.
it didn’t help that he’d attached his lips back to your swollen clit, teasing you with every flick of his tongue.
"o-oh gosh!" you moan in pleasure as your hips buck to meet his fingers. if you’d seen the way eren’s face was covered in your juices, you would’ve been embarrassed, but in the heat of the moment, all you could focus on was the intense pleasure.
eren slowed his pace, finger fucking you gently. your cries complemented by the squelching sounds from your wet heat. his eyes never leaving your face.
“you like when i fuck you with my fingers?” eren husks. you nod your head, unable to find your voice. a loud smack echoing through the air as his hand thunders across your thigh, sending a jolt of pleasure and pain through your body.
“use your words like a big girl.”
"y-yes, i like it when you use your fingers," you whimper, rocking your hips desperately against his hand. eren grins at the sweet quiver in your voice as he curves his fingers inside of you, hitting that perfect spot that made you see stars.
your moans were so fucking pretty.
shit, everything about you is pretty to eren. he loves the way your body responds to his touch, the way your eyes flutter shut in ecstasy.
“you so fuckin’ wet, you needed this, huh?”
"y-yes, mhgm," you cry out, his long fingers reaching every corner of your walls, driving you crazy. with his tongue playing over your clit and his fingers pumping into you, you felt that familiar sensation build in your stomach, a tight coil ready to snap. your body trembled, teetering on the edge of release, completely at his mercy.
eren’s pace increased, his fingers moving faster and his tongue swirling around your clit with renewed vigor. the pleasure was overwhelming, your vision blurred as you felt the coil in your stomach tighten even more. your breathing becoming ragged as you felt your climax approaching rapidly.
“clenching my fingers so good,” eren murmured against your clit, his voice sending vibrations through your core. that was all it took to push you over the edge. your body convulsing as the orgasm ripped through you, waves of pleasure crashing over you. you cried out eren’s name, hands gripping the sheets as you rode out the intense high.
eren moaned into your pussy, making sure he ate you through your climax, his tongue flicking and swirling with precision. the intense pleasure brought tears to your eyes, your vision blurring once again as you were overwhelmed by the sensation.
“fuck!” you gasp out as eren continues devouring you, his lips and tongue relentless on your sensitive clit, making it tingle and throb. you put your hands in front of your poor clit, trying to shield it from the overwhelming stimulation, prompting eren to deliver another hard smack on the side of your thigh.
“move it.” he demands, voice low and commanding.
shaking, you remove your hands.
eren didn’t stop, his fingers and tongue continuing their relentless assault, prolonging your orgasm until you were a trembling, panting mess. finally, he slows down, gently easing his fingers out of you and placing soft kisses on your inner thighs.
he looks up at you, his face glistening with your juices, a satisfied grin on his lips. “you’re so beautiful when you come,” his voice filled with adoration. he crawls up your body, wrapping his familiar inked arms around you and pulling you into a comforting embrace.
you huff tiredly, sitting up and pressing your lips against his, tasting yourself on his lips. eren groans as you slide your tongue against his, hands tugging his shirt over his head. eren was an avid fitness junkie, and his sculpted body told that story. his muscles well-defined, each one a testament to his dedication.
“stare any longer and i’ll charge,” eren teases, his voice laced with humor. you rolled your eyes playfully, unable to hide your admiration.
“lay back, i wanna try something,” you instruct, your voice filled with anticipation. eren eagerly nods, watching as you tug his pants off and toss them aside followed by his boxers. his eyes are filled with curiosity and desire, his body ready for whatever you had in mind.
you swallowed hard as you watch pre-cum glisten on his pink tip.
"someone's happy to see me," you laugh. eren flashes a smile. his muscles tensing slightly, the veins in his arms more pronounced as he leaned back on his elbows,giving you full access. your heart raced, the anticipation building as you moved closer, your breath hitching at the sight of him so ready and eager.
a soft mumble of your name falls from his lips as you glide his dick between your titties, pressing them together as you slide up him vertically. his breath hitches, his eyes fluttering shut momentarily as the warmth and softness of your breasts envelop him.
you can feel the heat radiating from his body, his muscles tensing further under your touch. each movement is slow and deliberate, creating a delicious friction that has him groaning in pleasure.
his hands grip the dirt, knuckles turning white as he tries to hold back, but the look of pure ecstasy on his face tells you he’s close to losing control.
his hips begin to move on their own, thrusting gently as you continue to slide up and down. you can see the desperation in his eyes, the way his jaw clenches as he fights to keep cool. his breathing grows ragged, each exhale a mix of a groan and your name.
"you feel amazing," he manages to gasp, his voice thick with need. his leaking tip coats your tits, making each glide smoother and more intense.
you pick up the pace, feeling the tension build in his body.
“does it make you wanna cum seeing me stroke your dick like this?” your voice dripping with seduction.
eren nods, face scrunching in pleasure when you focus on his tip.
“use your words, for me?”
“ugh fuck,” he drawls out deeply. “y-yes.”
each time you slide down him, his stomach clenches tightly, and the soft sound of skin against skin dulls his senses, driving him deeper into a haze of pleasure.
his breathing becomes more erratic, each breath a shallow gasp that escapes his lips. the sensation is overwhelming, each movement sending shivers down his spine.
you can feel his body trembling beneath you, his toes curling with every stroke. eren sits up now, his hands gripping your hair in a clenched first, as if trying to anchor himself in the moment.
“d-doing so good,” eren whines, watching your big tits envelop his dick, they’re covered in pre-cum and the sight makes him even harder.
how the fuck do you look so innocent?
your eyes, wide and seemingly naive, betray a hidden intensity as they lock onto his. each deliberate movement of your tits, slow and teasing, sends waves of pleasure through him, making it hard for him to think straight.
your lip, caught between your teeth, adds an edge of raw desire to your expression, making it clear that you know exactly what you're doing. the contrast between your innocent appearance and your skilled, confident actions creates a tantalizing tension that drives him wild.
the slick feel of your skin against his is almost too much to bear, and he can barely keep himself from losing control. the sensation is electric, each touch sending jolts of pleasure through his body.
his breathing becomes heavy, and he struggles to maintain his composure. every movement, every brush of your skin against his, pushes him closer to the edge. the intensity of the moment is overwhelming, making it nearly impossible for him to hold back.
“you wanna cum on my face?”
“yes—fuck, yes.”
eren's whole body is on fire, every nerve alive with sensation. his mind is a haze of pleasure, unable to focus on anything other than the exquisite torment you're putting him through.
he hates how quickly he's losing control, but at the same time, he craves more of it—more of you. the way you touch him, the way you know exactly how to push him to his limits, it's intoxicating. and as the pleasure builds to an unbearable peak, he knows there's no turning back.
his hands, once clutching the sheets in a desperate attempt to anchor himself, now hold your hair, pulling, a silent plea for more.
the intensity of his desire is palpable, a raw and unfiltered need that consumes him entirely. he can barely form coherent thoughts, let alone words, but his body speaks for him, responding to your every touch with an urgency that leaves no room for doubt.
as the crescendo of pleasure reaches its peak, eren's moans grow louder, more desperate. his body trembles, teetering on the edge of release.
every fiber of his being is focused on you, on the sensations you're eliciting from him. and then, with a final, shuddering gasp, he comes undone completely, his body convulsing in the throes of ecstasy.
ropes of him string your face as you continue stroking, determined to milk him dry.
"m-my tip is so sensitive... fuck," eren mewls, his thighs shaking uncontrollably.
the sight of him, so vulnerable and overwhelmed makes you throb. you finally pull your hands away and eren lets out a breathy shit.
“you’re amazing.” he grins, grabbing his shirt and cleaning your face off. you shrug, “i know.”
“don’t get cocky!”
“too late.” you giggle.
“mm, we’ll see about that when i’m fucking you.”
before you can react, eren has you in doggy-style, his hands spreading your cheeks as he eats your ass. his warm breath and skilled tongue send shivers down your spine, “s-shit!” you bury your face in your arms, arching into his face.
“oh god,” you hiss as eren swiftly rolls his hips into you, burying himself at your hilt. he can’t help but clench his jaw at how fucking tight you are, he wants nothing more than to fuck your sweet hole until you’re gushing with his cum but he refrains.
he’s so damn thick your pussy burns and throbs at the unfamiliar stretch, “you’re so big,” you whine.
“mhm, taking me so well,” eren praises, kneading your ass between his fingers. you began to loosen up around him and he takes that as his que, hands gripping your hips as he rolls his hips into you fluidly.
airy curses tumble from your lips as eren pounds into your pussy, the sound of your ass riveting against his stomach disrupting the serene atmosphere.
“fuckkk,” eren groans, watching as your greedy pussy suckles at his thick cock. you’re so fucking wet, the slight gush as eren continually rocks his hips a testament of that.
your soft moans are like music to his ears, each whine and grunt spurring him to fuck you deeper. “h-harder!” you demand, hands neededly gripping the fabric underneath you. a loud cry fumbles from your lips as eren cracks his hand against your ass.
“ask nicely princess.” he grunts, voice thick with desire.
“mm, please ren. fuck my pussy harder.”
“your wish is my command,” eren latches a hand around the back of your neck to brace himself, hips snapping into you with inhumane speeds.
"you like getting your pussy ravaged like this?" eren hums, his hand squeezing your throat harder, causing you to let out a soft moan. each powerful thrust and the grip on your neck overwhelms you with ecstasy, eyes clenching shut tightly as you jerk forward with each motion.
“y-yes,”
eren’s breath is hot against your ear as he leans down, latching his hand around the front of your neck. “you’re so beautiful like this." his words send shivers down your spine, heightening the sensation of every movement. you can barely think, lost in the overwhelming mix of pleasure and intensity. the air feels electric, every touch and sound magnified as you both move together, completely in sync.
“you hear her talking to me?” you shiver as you feel his cold silver chain against your back, lips pressing an array of kisses along your spine.
“look at you, getting so wet for me,” he whines, and you want to cum right then and there. you love his moans; a mixture of breathy and whininess that you can’t get enough of.
cream coats eren’s dick, building on his base and sticking to his pubes. his thumb rimming your asshole before he pushed it in.
“it’s okay, baby. relax,” his voice soft as you tense.
“oh eren,” you squeak, his hips jolting against your ass as he fucks you even faster, thumb stretching out your asshole.
both your holes being filled has your stomach flipping. eren fucking you wildly. he would pull himself out, leaving just his tip. then ram himself all the way back into you, a queef leaving your pussy each time.
his fingers dig into your skin as he thrusts deeper. the sound of skin slapping mingling with your moans and his grunts. every movement sends waves of pleasure through your body, making you feel like you’re on the edge of ecstasy.
“gonna fill you up soon,” eren mutters, voice strained. you can feel the tension building inside you, ready to snap at any moment. eren’s pace quickens, his thrusts becoming more urgent as he chased his own release.
“i’m close,” you gasp, your body trembling with anticipation. eren responds with a deep, guttural moan, his movements growing even more intense. the pressure inside you reached its peak, and with a final, powerful thrust, you both tumbled over the edge together, lost in the overwhelming sensation of pleasure.
“cummin’ cummin’!” tears fall from your eyes as the hot sensation of eren’s cum fills your pussy, spilling out dripping onto the blanket.
“ughhhhh,” eren shudders, “m not done with you yet sweetheart.”
before you know it eren has you in missionary, you watch with half-lidded eyes as he lines himself up with your creampied pussy. hissing as he pushes into your wet entrance. your moans synchronized, and you arch your back in pleasure. his hands lock onto yours, holding them above your head. his thrust are slow yet deep. moaning softly you wrap your legs around him, driving him further.
eren wants to climax immediately, seeing your fucked out face. your eyebrows furrowed, swollen lips caught between your teeth, chest bouncing with each thrust of his hips.
“so pretty,” he mumbles, pressing sweet kisses onto your face. your stomach churns as he continues rolling his hips into you, tip prodding at your cervix.
“open your eyes and look at me while i fuck you like this,” he rasps, the sounds of your wetness filling his ears. your eyes flutter open to look at him. his lips are swollen from the shared kisses, jaw clenched in pleasure, a thin layer of sweat covering his skin. you yearn to release each time his chain swings across your face, but resist.
his eyes seem to glow as you locked gazes with him.
"you’re so gorgeous," he whispers, sending chills through your body. you can feel a knot tightening in your stomach again. “gna’ cum again baby,” you whine, eren gripping your thighs and them for better leverage.
“ah-fuck!” you sob out as the new angle, his length hitting directly into your g-spot.
he continues hitting that spot until the knot in your stomach finally releases. you sob in pleasure, squirting. he waste no time pulling out and smacking his length against your sensitive clit, urging you to let it out.
“mhm, love this shit.”
the two of you lay in a puddle of your fluids, but eren doesn’t care. he pushes back into you groaning as your walls convuls around him.
you sense he was near climax as his eyes shut tightly, you cup his face as his thrusts become more erratic.
“that’s it, cum for me handsome.”
and that was all it took.
with a loud moan, eren withdrew and rapidly pumped his shaft, releasing hot jets of cum onto your belly. his blissful cries echoing as his muscular frame tightened in release.
“fuckkkkk,” he whines, shaking.
the breeze is cool as you’re cuddled up beside eren, your naked legs intertwined. the world around you feels calm and serene, and you can't help but wish that life could always be this simple. eren's fingers gently dig into your frizzy curls, massaging your scalp with tenderness.
“you’re my girlfriend now,” he murmurs, his voice firm yet filled with affection. “i won’t take no for an answer.”
you look up at him, everything feels perfect, and you can't imagine being anywhere else but here, in his arms.
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vanteguccir · 2 months
Note
Bsf!Matt gets a boner from seeing you in a bikini
── ୨୧ ! a small blurb where bsf!Matt gets flustered and turned on after seeing you in a bikini
        𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒕 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐 x reader
The sea breeze was fresh and carried the salty scent of the waves breaking on the sand. The sun shone high, promising a perfect day at the beach. Y/N, Matt, Nick, and Chris walked together toward the sea, silly comments and laughter filling the air.
"Finally, the beach!!" Y/N raising her arms momentarily while laughing before tossing a beach ball to Nick.
"You go, mermaid." Nick replied, catching the ball with a mischievous grin.
The four reached a perfect spot and began spreading their towels on the sand. Chris quickly took off his shirt and ran to the sea like a kid, followed by Nick. Matt and Y/N stayed behind a bit, organizing their things more calmly.
"Do you want help with the sunscreen?" Matt asked, holding the tube he fished out of his own bag.
"Sure, thanks." Y/N smiled.
She began to remove the clothes covering her bikini. First, her oversized shirt, then her denim shorts. Matt froze for a moment, eyes wide as he watched the scene, his gaze following her every move.
Her bikini was simple, It had no drawings or embroidery, carrying only one color, but highlighted her curves in a way he couldn't look away from. His heart raced, and he felt his face start to heat up.
"Uhm… you… look great." He stammered, trying to maintain his composure. He wrinkled his nose and squeezed his eyes shut momentarily, mentally slapping himself as he wondered where he got the courage to say that.
"Thanks." She replied, a playful smile on her face. "Now, let's get to the sunscreen."
Matt nodded, trying to focus on the task at hand. He started spreading the cream on her back, his fingers gliding over her warm skin. Each touch made his mind spin, and he struggled to stay calm. Y/N seemed relaxed, enjoying his care.
"Are you okay?" She asked, noticing his accelerated breathing.
"Yes, of course." He lied, his voice sounding a bit too loud. "It's just… it's a hot day, right?"
She laughed.
"Yes, very hot."
Finally, Matt finished applying the sunscreen, and Y/N turned to thank him. Her eyes met his, and she noticed the slight blush on his cheeks.
"Are you really okay, Matt? You look kind of… flushed."
He nervously ran a hand through his hair, laughing breathlessly.
"I'm fine, really. Just… uhm, strong sun, you know?"
Before she could respond, Chris and Nick returned from the water, dripping and laughing.
"Are you two going to stand there all day or get in the water?" Chris teased.
Y/N looked at Matt, her eyes sparkling with amusement.
"Come on, Matt. Let's cool off."
She pulled his hand, and Matt followed her like a lost puppy, trying to ignore the heat he still felt on his face.
As they entered the water, he felt the coolness helping him calm down a bit. Nick and Chris were playing like kids, splashing water at each other, and soon, Y/N joined them, laughing loudly.
Matt stood back for a moment, unable to help himself as his eyes roamed over her body while she played with his brothers, stopping for more seconds than necessary on her tits bouncing with her movements.
He found himself licking his lips, feeling discomfort in his lower area that made him blush deeply, gulping loudly. He was completely lost in the sight of her, his mind clouded with thoughts he knew he shouldn't be having.
His heart pounded in his chest, and he tried to shake off the feeling, diving more into the water to cool off. But even the cold water couldn't completely wash away the warmth spreading through him.
He needed to get his mind off of Y/N and her oh so perfect body for him.
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monster-disaster · 11 months
Text
[incubus] Darian
incubus!Darian x human!Reader Good to know: ass play, oral (f receiving)
Summary: You go to Darian for a massage session.
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You can feel the warmth of the ground even through your flip-flops. The bright rays of the sun burn the back of your neck, caressing down on the soft line of your shoulders. The thin layer of sweat on your heated skin shines under the hot globe at the top of the clear blue sky. Even the thin towel around your body seems too much in this weather. Your fingers tighten on the soft fabric to keep it in place while you wait for the door in front of you to open.
Your gaze turns from the small hut to the pools nearby. The gentle ripples of the water glint as the humans and monsters move around in it. You can hear the splashes and laughs.
The plants and exotic, colorful flowers bloom in the heat all over the resort. Their scent mixes with the dryness of the desert. The dunes stand tall in the distance.
Your attention snaps back to the door when you hear it open. The creak is quiet and light. Your gaze meets with a bare chest first before dragging your eyes up to a smiling face. It's mischievous and dangerous. His dark blue lips seem soft around the pearly whites of his teeth. His tongue peaks up for a second as he licks one of his canines. They are pointed but not like the vampires'.
"Hello," you break the silence when you find your voice. His dark eyes crinkle with amusement at the hoarseness of your voice. "Hey," he greets you, stepping back from the door to give you enough space to enter. "You are Amanda, I believe?" "Oh," you gasp, reaching out your hand. "I'm Amanda. It's nice to meet you." "Darian at your service," he says, holding your hand in his much larger one. His touch is warm and firm. His lips are soft as he leans down and kisses the back of your hand.
You thought the small hut would give you protection from the heat, and even though the air is much better here, the presence of the incubus makes it hard for you to breathe. His tall form hovers above you, and your gaze drops on his nipples every now and again. They are pierced. The small silvery bars glint under the dim lights.
"Are you ready then?" He asks, and when you nod, he continues. "You can get comfortable."
He turns his back to you, busying himself with something to give you a moment to relax and settle on the massage table.
You take a deep breath from the air that smells like oils and candles as you drop the towel onto a chair nearby. You are bare and flustered. This is your first time being here, wanting a massage that can escalate quickly. The male hasn't even touched you yet, and you are already moist between your legs.
You lay down on the comfortable but firm table. Your chest presses against the leather, and your arms rest next to you. Your face is in the hole on the headrest.
"Just relax," Darian says after a few seconds. You see his legs when he moves closer. His feet are bare. "And tell me if something hurts or you want to stop." "Okay," you reply, forcing your body to relax.
He starts slowly. His hands are large and clever. He draws small circles on the back of your neck, going down to your shoulders and shoulder blades. His fingers dig into your skin, massaging your muscles and working through your body. Darian traces the line of your spine with his thumb, watching your every reaction.
"Is it good?" He asks even though he already knows your answer. The scent of your arousal is potent in the air. "Yes," you reply, groaning when he reaches a spot.
He isn't in a hurry. By the time he reaches your lower body, you are already relaxed and putty under his hands. You melt into the mattress, enjoying his long fingers gliding over your bare skin. He goes to your legs, working himself up on you from your toes and claves. He massages your muscles, drawing circles and long lines with his fingers. The incubus's palms are warm on your thighs. His thumbs go up on your inner thighs once, twice, three times.
You are excited, and you know he knows. You fidget every now and again, wanting more but not being brave enough to ask for it. The male smiles at your struggle. He can almost feel your pleasure on the tip of his tongue. You are sweet and needy.
"What do you want, Amanda?" He asks, smirking. His hands grope your ass cheeks, almost pulling them apart to see you better. "From the front," he continues, letting his thumb slip over your wet slit. "Or from the back."
A gasp leaves your lips when you feel his finger around your other hole. He draws small circles around it while he waits for your reply. Your legs pull apart automatically to give him more space.
"From the back," you reply breathlessly. Heat burns your cheeks at your answer, but Darian isn't shocked or repulsed by your wants. His eyes are on your hole, licking his lips.
"Good," he hums. "Very good."
He continues to massage you, teasing but never really reaching where you want him most. Long minutes pass by like this while your breathing gets heavier. The incubus feeds on your every moan and groan. He sees the small movements of your hips as you try to stay in place and not push your bottom up to him to take.
"Demanding little thing, aren't you?" He jokes. "Don't hold back, Amanda. Give me everything you can." "Please, Darian," you gasp out. "What do you want?" He asks, his voice coming from much closer than before. His breath is hot on the side of your neck. Goosebumps run through your skin that shines with a thin layer of oil under the dim, relaxing lights when he licks your pulse. His tongue is warm and wet. You can feel the tingling his saliva gives you immediately. It goes straight to your core. The table is probably already messy under you. "I want you to…" you gasp. He starts to go lower on your body. He kisses and licks your back, letting his saliva relax you even more. You tremble and fidget. You want to know how his tongue feels in your holes. "Yes?" He hums. "Do you want me to eat this ass?" He grips your asscheeks, squeezing and jiggling it. "Yes," you gasp. "Please." "I will devour you, do not worry," he promises, moving back to the end of the table to grab your hips and pull you up. Your bottom is in the air while your face is still on the bed. You can smell yourself on the fabric. Your pussy pulses at the familiar scent. "So pretty," he hums, opening up your lips to see your pussy better. You soak the tip of his fingers within a few seconds. "So warm and delicious." "Oh, god," you groan at his words, wiggling in his hold with anticipation. The vulnerability of your position does nothing but spike your arousal higher. You are open and ready in front of his eyes. The thick globes of your bottom shine with the oil he used on you, and your cunt drips, making a mess between your thighs.
You moan when his thumb grazes your puckered hole in circles, groping your cheeks with his other hand. He pulls on the flesh, opening up you more. Your whole body trembles under his touch. His hot breath fans over your pussy, making you pulse and flutter around nothing.
A muffled squeal escapes your tightened throat when you feel his lips closing around your clit. His plump lips are hot and firm around the small bundle of nerves as the male sucks on it. Every nerve in your body focuses on that small spot that makes you go crazy. He flicks his tongue against it, licking up on your slit and gathering your juices on his tongue. "Oh, fuck," you groan when he barely pushes inside your cunt and continues his way up between your cheeks. His fingers dig into your flesh for better access to your asshole. He is warm and wet on your skin. The male soaks you in his saliva until you can feel your tight muscles relax and his tongue dart inside your hole. Your eyes fall shut at the tingling feeling on your pussy and asshole. Just the effect of his saliva would be enough to make you cum, but the incubus demands more from you and your delirious body. He fucks his tongue into your hole, darting in and out until your muscles lose enough under his assault. "You are delicious," Darian groans, intoxicated by the energy that radiates from you in thick, heavy waves. His cock is hard in his white, loose pants. With every moan and scream that leaves your lips, his shaft jerks, leaking precum. "Fuck," you breathe out, panting. "I never want you to stop." Your words are followed by a deep, satisfied chuckle. "You are so sensitive," Darian hums. "Responsive," he adds, pressing his thumb into your hole. Even after his saliva-soaked rimming, you are still tight around his finger. You moan at the feeling of him filling you up. He pushes in and out of you a few times before changing his fingers to reach deeper inside you. You drip onto the bed, your cunt and ass flutter with pleasure. At this point, the sounds leaving your chest are constant noises in the small hut that smells like desire and sex. "The others probably can hear you outside," the male smirks down at you, watching you drooling onto the table. "They can hear you scream as I finger that sweet ass." "Darian!" You scream, shaking. When you almost reach your orgasm, he stops, and you fall back from the edge with a pained cry. "Not yet," he says. "I want to taste your cunt again." Your pussy clenches at his words. "Ohgodyes," you groan. "Please!"
The male's free hand that isn't busy with your asshole finds the wet slit of your cunt. He grazes your sensitive flesh lazily, feeling your plump pussy under his touch. Your clit throbs and aches with need. "So wet," he says. "I just want to drink you up. Slurp up every drop you can give me until I'm full and satisfied." "Ohplease," you gasp, gripping the edges of the table to keep your balance as you push your bottom back to him.
Your hoarse begging is the sweetest sound for his ears as he leans down and shoves his tongue into your pussy immediately. The world spins around you at the overwhelming feeling under Darian's pushes and licks. He fucks your pussy with his tongue, drawing small circles on your clit and still pushing inside your asshole. Your sweat mixes with the oil that you can't smell anymore under the thick scent of your arousal.
Darian devours your pussy while fingering your ass. You open up for him obediently, letting him explore your depths with two thick fingers.
"Don'tstopdon'tstop," you chant desperately, feeling the familiar spasm jerk your body and curling your belly into a tight knot. You shake and twitch as your climax blinds you for long seconds. Your asshole squeezes around his fingers, not wanting to let him go while your pussy gushes into his hungry mouth. Your heart beats in your ears, and your lungs burn for air. Sparks of pleasure burn your whole body as you come down from your high. Darian has to help you to lay back down on the table, still on your stomach.
"Can I write you up for another session?" He asks knowingly. His long fingers trace slow patterns on the back of your head, playing with the sweaty strands of your hair. "Please."
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takes1 · 4 months
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bokuto fucking your insecurities away
i LOVE his character. very fun to write. would love to do any requests for him!! working on an oikawa request now :)
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warnings. nsfw. conversations around body image issues info. nsfw / rough sex / friend sex / chubby!reader / insecure!reader / bokuto has a praise thing / impatient!bokuto / airhead!bokuto / sweet!bokuto / bokuto likes big girls / dumb dick bokuto / pool party setting / 2.3k words
haikyuu collection. more here. links. masterlist / my ao3 / request box
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Watchful eyes tracked the arrival of a group of girls from the house to the poolside, all clad in their colorful swimsuits, hats, sunglasses, and smiles.
Bokuto bumped a serve up to Akaashi and grinned at the perfect opportunity to show off in front of you.
SLAM! Right into the water on the other side of the net, splashing Washio hard in the face.
He cursed loud at his unnecessary force, but quickly shut himself up when the girls came walking around the side of the pool. He pushed the water off of his face with flexed arms.
Something was wrong, though. Bokuto swam to the side of the deep-end and pushed his body up to sit on the edge despite the game going on.
"Hey!" He waved enthusiastically to a couple of girls and brought them over.
They were more than happy to bend over in front of his sculpted, shiny body, but his attention was only taken by your absence.
"Where's (Y/n)?"
They frowned and stood back up, half-heartedly mentioning that you wouldn't come out of the room they all changed in, and walked away.
That just wouldn't do. He turned to look at the house.
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"Put a towel on before you go inside!!" Akaashi called, exasperated he even had to tell him.
"AAAAAHH!!" Was his response; as good at articulating his frustration as any that he had to jog the distance back for a stupid towel.
Akaashi rolled his eyes into setting another ball. Bokuto rolled his eyes, too, and slid the screen door open.
It was so cold inside, his skin prickled up instantly. He wished you'd just come out already-- enjoy the warm sunshine, let him rub sunscreen all over you, lay on his chest in the pool. His stomach pooled with heat at the fantasy of it all.
Oh, you were coming out of that room even if he had to drag you out.
Just before his hand grabbed the doorknob, he thought better for a second. A loud, rhythmic knock.
"(Y/n)!! Come outside!" He yelled into the door.
He didn't spare a single second more to linger when he heard a faint sniffle.
You weren't a mess, but your eyes were still stinging and you were not happy to be walked in on when you had nothing but an ill-fitting t-shirt over your bikini, even if it was Bokuto.
His proportions were ridiculous. Giant, hulking shoulders and a strong, wide back dipped deliciously into his tiny waist. Itty-bitty trunks showed off his powerful thighs, though he was dripping all over the carpet.
In a way, it only brought you back down to the feeling that you were not up-to-snuff to walk out in your bathing suit with all these athletic bodies outside.
"What the hell?" He yelled; not at you, just at the fact that you were clothed, and clearly trying to not cry.
A couple steps forward made you tense. He caught this, so he turned around and closed the door behind him.
Being soft wasn't one of his strong suits, but he tried with you.
His affinity for you was never-ending after he passed you one day in the hallway. One big, empty-headed smile was all it took to start your odd friendship. He used this one interaction to wedge his way up to 'studying' with your small, academic club.
His eccentricities made him charming and personable to talk to, but Bokuto was undeniably attractive and even more popular. So, you weren't sure why he associated with you, since he never paid attention in your study group.
You pushed the wet off of your face with the heel of your hand and tried to sober up a little, "I'm going home."
Your voice sounded so hoarse and weak, you regretted saying anything and not just walking out when you had the chance.
Bokuto laughed as if you were really joking.
Instead of trying to explain yourself to him, which historically never went well in your favor, you grabbed your pants off of the floor.
His gaze dropping and necessary palming of his growing ache wasn't subtle, but you couldn't see it. That tiny shirt didn't cover your ass; he had to savor the sight.
His head spun with confusion and the beginnings of frustration at the sight of more clothes, "What are you doing?"
He tried again, desperate to keep you from putting on those pants, and closed the distance between you, "Come oooon, let's just go out there and have some fun! We're playin' some ball- I want'cha to watch me win!"
His big, adoring eyes chipped at your guard. Instead of getting lost in them, you looked to the side, to the corner you were changing in when you first started feeling like this bikini was a horrible idea.
A frown made his entire face droopy when he saw your expression harden.
"I should've gotten a one-piece," You muttered.
It took a few moments for him to process what was so bad about that. It took him longer to come up with a response, which gave you enough time to shiver at the lack of space he gave you.
You felt horrible that you wanted to leave him, since he was the reason you were invited and had the courage to wear something like this in the first place. It just didn't stand up to how overwhelming the possibility of judgement might be.
Bokuto closed the gap even more so you'd look up at him, face set, "You always think too hard about this stuff."
Frustrated that he couldn't even grasp at the concept, you gripped your shirt harder.
He let up, physically unable to keep a mean mug on his face for more than a few seconds.
"I'm sure ya look real good-," His wild and unruly imagination inspired an obvious up-and-down with his eyes. Your heart skipped at his intense energy.
"So come on!" He tore himself away, grabbed your wrist, and didn't give you the chance to pick apart his tone, "Let's go!"
You weren't moving despite his jerk towards the door. A frustrated sigh made you feel a bit smaller.
He was pretty imposing when he was close to you, and not his usual high-energy self.
This topic of contention wasn't new. He brushed away your usual self-deprecating jokes, and called you cute on a number of occasions-- you thought it was a joke, or just politeness. But he never got irritated before.
"Need me to prove it?" His thumb hooked under his the hem of his trunks and pulled on them enough to make you give a quick, uneven:
"N-o,"
One uncontrollable glance down, and your face was burning fast.
You were pretty sure you just saw his dick. He laughed at your sheepish reaction and slapped a hand to the back of his neck.
"I dunno how else to convince you that you're fuckin' gorgeous."
You tried to pretend not to see him adjust, but he was watching you, like an owl waiting for his mousey dinner. It was difficult to not feel aroused and curious when you were so plainly desired and lusted after by this big, stupid hottie.
The air between you was warm and still.
After a moment of deliberation, your fingers gripped the edges of your shirt and you lifted it off. It was more of a test to see if he still felt the same.
"Damn," He sighed, lids heavy, thumb still hooked to his trunks.
His free hand guided your face up to his- you found no reason to deny him a needy, raunchy kiss. He was so forward, there was no room to doubt or overthink his intentions when his hands were filling with your hips and chest so fervently.
You had never felt so wanted before.
The ease in which he picked you up and set you onto the bed forced a startled moan against his lips.
He sucked a toothy kiss to the side of your mouth with a boyish giggle, "Sooo pretty."
This time, you took his compliment as it was intended. Unlike the countless other times he told you that and you assumed the worst.
He was only gone for the moment it took for him to wrench his own trunks off, leaving him completely bare with a generous size straining against the air.
Being naked truly didn't bother him at all. He looked so natural it was like he could walk outside like that, completely fine.
You envied his simplistic mind.
His cock was burning hot against your skin once he sandwiched it between yourself and his weight.
If there was one thing you could tell from his messy, rushed kissing, it was that he hated taking things slow. It took a few deliberate whines to keep him from yanking on the bottom piece of your bikini.
He melted at your successful efforts and the squeeze of your legs around his hips.
Your hands fluttered over his strong back, pushing, pulling, poking here and there at some hard muscles that you didn't even know existed. You wanted to enjoy as much of him as you could.
To keep his discomfort at bay, he rubbed himself against your softness, breath labored and hot on your lips.
"'Need you so fuckin' bad," He laughed, unable to cope with his peaked impatience.
This time you didn't fight his efforts to remove your bikini bottoms-- but you gasped at his unhinged lick to the inside, where you had been slowly getting them wet.
He tossed them to the side with a smile and pulled you to the edge of the mattress so he could stand. This was better for his control, in his opinion.
The guy had clocked this height to work before you had even expressed any interest much earlier.
Another few kisses you had to reign him in for and he was sliding against you, getting himself coated with your wet, yearning to be inside you already.
It helped that he gave you such a good view.
His hands kept your twitchy, plush thighs still as he pushed into you.
You gave a fretful sound, not quite as prepared for his size as you preferred.
A guttural groan escaped from him, one that only further proved his bottomless lust as valid. You watched his face tighten, then drop into something a bit sleepier- it helped you adjust better, feeling, seeing, hearing exactly how much he wanted you.
His big, strong hand grabbed the bottom half of your face, "That feel good, baby?"
He didn't wait for you to respond to him before stealing a few hungry, rough kisses from your puffy lips.
When he pulled away after stealing enough of your breath, his head flew back and left you to watch his taut, muscular body twitch and flex as he fucked deeper into your cunt.
An absolute piece of art was taking you, in a stranger's bed no less.
"Ah-h!" You whined as he set an intense pace.
His cock felt so good, stretching you out over and over again, and you gladly adjusted to his unquestionable enthusiasm.
A handsome, boyish sound was his giddy chuckle, "Ya like that?"
Those skilled, eager thrusts resonated throughout your entire body- he watched your tits bounce in your strappy top under him in a stupid daze. His hands were filled with the plush of your hips, constantly stretching to grab and pull more of you onto him.
He fucked you like he'd never get the chance to again. Under his touch, you felt like the most beautiful girl in the world. Nothing else mattered much in comparison.
"Fuck, yeah," It came out in a whimper, but still captivated him like you'd muttered some spell.
His satisfied moan at your affirmation was choked and uneven. He nabbed one of your wrists to place a kiss on, but his pussy-fixated brain could handle one thing at a time.
You needed him deeper- fuck, he looked so pretty panting on your wrist like that.
The squeeze of your thighs stalled him. His eyes were filled with a confused, yet intrigued restlessness when you pushed on him so you could flip over.
"Mm, yeah, yeah- That's so-o fucking hot!!" Bokuto whined.
He let you take the lead because he loved seeing your confidence shine through. It was beyond sexy watching you own it and put your ass in the air for him.
"Oh, f-uck," He moaned, breathless as he sunk into you.
You squeezed around him when he landed a hard slap on your soft, supple skin.
Yeah, this was all you needed. Next time you were feeling down, this perfect man could just fuck the insecurity out of you.
You settled into a deep stretch with a nice arch for him and felt a calloused hand pressing into your lower back to keep you still.
He certainly hated wasting time.
At this point you leaned into it, crying whiny curses into the pillow beneath you while he fucked you hard.
His heart skipped a few beat when you cried, uneven at each thrust, "Feel s-o good, Bokuto"
His nails dug hard into your ass, his breath getting choppier, voice raspy when he told you, "Been waitin' so long."
He laughed, barely swallowing his own whine at the threat of needing to cum so bad.
"You'll get this- h-ah," He winced, having to stall a moment when you clenched around him, "Nex-t 'ime you wanna act all fuckin' shy..."
Your climax was hard and fast, rendering you a bit lightheaded as he pounded his last few strokes out and finished all over your ass.
Everything was hot and hazy when he rolled onto his back next to you. You slid so you were laying onto your tummy.
His big, goofy grin was a bit cloudy in your vision: "One more?"
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eddiernunson · 24 days
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Bikinis, Ice Cream and Other Ways To Torture Him | Older Rockstar!Eddie Munson x Harrington Fem!Reader | 18+
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Summary: The stories of Eddie Munson, front man of Corroded Coffin and his music filled the Harrington household, his albums on shelves and picture frames hung of your dad and him, young and dumb. You’re home for the weekend, which happens to be the same weekend Eddie is in Hawkins on a personal errand. The longtime crush bubbles to the surface as you meet him, giving into the temptation of small summer dresses and bubblegum gloss for the fun of it. Until your dad is called in to an emergency work meeting. Then the fun of torture becomes temptation.
Warnings: Older Rockstar!Eddie, Harrington!Reader (Steve’s daughter), use of excessive nicknames, no use of y/n, ambiguous ending, smut
Describes: long hair, shorter than Eddie by a few inches, reader is described to look like her mom (can be ANY race) with Steve’s freckles. No skin Color or body shape/type.
Word Count: 6.8k
This is the last chapter so…enjoy! Thanks for reading! Sorry for the delayed posting today! Parenthood is kicking my ass.
Chapter 6
You hesitantly accept his offer, getting up to sober up a little and grab a bathing suit as Eddie comes from behind you, hands grabbing your shoulders and resting his chin on one of them as he asks, “Where are you going?”
“Grabbing a bathing suit,” you answer, gulping at his stubble pressed directly against your cheek.
“Don’t think so,” Eddie jerks his head, not giving you a moment to wonder what he meant before you hit the icy cold depths of your pool, hearing Eddie also hit the water as you went under.
“Jesus!” You cry as you hit the surface, wiping your face from the water that got into your eyes. “Warn a girl!”
“We were going into the pool anyway, we got towels, where’s the fun in that?” Eddie asks, starting to swim circles around you.
“You could’ve at least let me take my shorts off, they are already falling off my legs,” you whine, grabbing the pair from below the waters’ surface around your shin to throw on the pool’s edge.
Eddie scoffs, attempting not to leer to your underwear under the water, wondering if the pool’s liquid had made it see through, or what kind you were wearing. It occurs to him he hadn't thought this impromptu swim very well through.
He swims to the edge to take another drink of his beer, offering you one as well when you pout to your beer still sitting by the dwindling fire. “Alright, I bet…” he trails off, his eyes shining mischievously, “I could beat you to the other end of the pool,” Eddie announces, already starting the race.
“Hey, it’s not fair if you’ve already started!” You huff, quickly starting some breast strokes right behind him.
He beats you by mere seconds, grinning at you cheekily when your face lifts from the water. “You got a head start,” you pout, splashing him childishly.
He splashes you right back at twice the force, a tidal wave completely drowning your head. “You’re just a sore loser.”
“Alright, then, one two three go!” You launch yourself off the wall, giggling when Eddie gives the same attitude towards your unfair headstart as you did to his.
Somehow, he manages to get ahead, out of breath as you reach the surface but grinning stupid all the same, proud of his besting you once again. “Cheaters never prosper.”
“Yeah, or you just have better lungs and longer legs, Munson,” you sneer, not letting him be too proud of his second win.
“Better lungs? Prove it. Wanna test it?” He teases, his eyelashes dripping with the chlorine water but not paying any mind how it drips into his eyes.
“By what, by seeing who can hold your breath under water the longest?” you joke, giggling when he nods in all seriousness.
You agree to it, but just as you could’ve predicted, he wins all three tries. He shrugs, saying something about you must’ve been right about his singer’s lungs.
You usually don’t take losing so well, a competitive streak from having three siblings who all succeeded in almost everything they did, but you were getting so much joy from your adventure in the water with him you forgot to be sour.
“You talk a big talk, but I could beat you in math any day, Munson,” you jeer, internally panicking when it doesn’t affect him in the slightest.
“Oh yeah? Well math ain’t gonna help you here, sweetheart.” He lurches forward, initiating a chase that sends a thrill up your spine, immediately turning away and freaking out when you hear his splashes grow closer and closer.
The pool wall ended up being much closer than you had expected, turning around to him nearly colliding with you from the full force of his momentum. He’s breathing heavily, his bare chest after complaining about his shirt dragging him down pale in the blue night lights, two hands right next to your shoulders on the tiles. He licks his lips, a playful grin still on his face yet slowly fades.
Your shirt has also dragged you down, having taken it off and throwing it just a few feet from where your shorts lie. Your underwear does little to hide what it’s meant to, two thin fabrics between you and the wall. You recall when you considered putting on a bathing suit after your shower earlier but thought it would be silly.
Now all of that seems silly.
The music, now faint, still carries on in the background as Eddie nor you move from the spots, the space between your chests seemingly smaller and smaller.
You’ve held back from this tantalizing temptation so many times, you’ve lost track. You don’t have the strength to hold back any more, so you don’t. You finally take a bite of the damn apple, whether or not there’s hell to pay for it.
Your legs wrap around his waist, tugging him in as you finally press your lips to his gorgeous pink ones. Eddie immediately tenses up, going stiff as a rod. Your first instinct is that you’ve obviously made a blunder, misreading all the signs and were waiting for the humiliation to start, for his apologies to bumble out.
When you attempt to let go and apologize profusely, he cuts you off, pinning your back against the pool as his hands work their way up your body, restless and careless until they stay still on your ass, rough and commanding as you feel his boner right on your desperate heat. His lips against yours take complete control, one hand landing on your cheek as he opens his mouth just a little bit more to allow your tongues collide, beers and smores and musk and watermelons and oh fuck he’s a good kisser.
His stubble collides with your cheek and burns in the best way, drinking in every moment as he kisses you slow but desperately, not wanting to waste a single second after burning for it, his lips on yours.
“Do you know what you do to me, you beautiful little tease?” He mutters, rutting himself as if to demonstrate what he meant.
“I have an idea,” you smirk, gasping the smile away as soon as the boner collides again, harder.
“Do you? Do you know that everytime I see you in a new slutty little outfit I get fucking hard? Every small action you make, taking joints out from your fucking bra, licking jam off your hand,” he ruts again swallowing a whimper that leaves your mouth, “the fucking ice cream, fuck, it is torture just being near you.”
Your legs cling onto him, heels digging into his thighs as one hand wedges itself between your panties and your hip, toying with the thin fabric, his hand roughly digging into the doughy skin of your thigh. “Tell me more,” you plead, chasing his full lips as they messily plant kisses all down your neck, teeth scraping against your skin while his nose nuzzles it, taking deep inhales on his trek.
“God, baby, everything about you had me ready to mark you as mine, I just needed you so fucking bad it drove me insane. Did you need me too? I-I fucking know the answer, but I need to hear it, you need me too, right?” He borderline begs, his voice gone from rough and aggressive to needy almost instantaneously.
“I-I need you, Eddie, I really, really need you,” you answer him in full honesty, overwhelmed by the force of vulnerability that rushes through you like a gust of wind.
The only thing that you can call what comes out of him next is a whimper, his brown eyes searching both of yours rapidly as his hand tightens on your bare hip. “Say it again?”
“Say what again?” you frown, your face close enough to his that the only thing that passes through it are the loud gasps in the quiet of the night. Even with the music still playing in the background, it really only feels as its you and him alone in the world.
“Say my name?” He licks his lips right before scattering kisses all along your collarbone, sucking and nibbling weaved with little whimpers, his wet hair brushing against your chin in the meantime.
You smile, not having noticed the subconscious attempt at distancing yourself. Referring to him as Eddie, even in place of Munson, feels too personal, too real. If he’s Eddie, he’s on your level. Attainable.
Something you have told yourself all weekend that he is anything but.
Your mouth opens to give him exactly what he wanted, but you decide against it at the very last second, “Make me,” husking out instead.
The breathy, seductive tone took him aback, his brow scrunching for just a fraction of a second until a change cascades over his face. Half of his open mouth quirks itself upward, and it’s dark out, the sun having said its final goodbyes, but his brown doe eyes darken as he collects himself. “Make you, hmm? S’that my pretty girl asking me to make her moan my name?”
You nod, out of focus but staring up at him through your lashes all the same, arching your back when he takes you by surprise as he gropes the soft skin of your ass.
“You have been a very good girl, I suppose,” he hums, as if still considering your offer, like he wasn’t just begging for it only moments ago.
You could argue against that, but you won’t if he’s offering you this leeway. “Mmhm,” you nod eagerly, your breaths growing shorter and faster biting your lip in anticipation.
“Alright, then be my good girl and say please,” Eddie mutters, landing one hand next to you on the pool tiles.
“Please,” spills out your lips before you even process it, your legs slowly wafering through the water as he remains still, his lips and hand once all over you now a simple tease in comparison to the touch he finally granted you.
“Please?” Eddie mutters, tilting his head in false curiosity. “Please, what, baby?”
“Please, please t-touch me,” it ‘s so simple, so delicate yet so intimate, crossing a boundary the both of you tried so hard to refrain from. “Want you to please make me moan your name with your fingers, Please.”
“See?” Eddie’s hands start again, hand on the tiles slotting itself on your cheek, the other abruptly slotting itself on your heat. “See, I knew you were a good girl.”
Just his touch alone sends a jolt up your system, a hot flash of lightning as your body jolts up weightlessly held up by his support but mostly the water. He watches you, his jaw dropping as his fingers start moving with purpose as the searing pleasure overwhelms and electrifies your nerves, starting to gasp out little mewls for him no more than two minutes after they started their pattern.
You leant in to kiss him but he keeps your forehead glued to his, turning away from your quivering bottom lip when you lean in again. “No, I know, I just wanna watch your pretty fucking face fall apart for me,” he whispers, his eyes raking across your increasingly ruined form. “Jesus your pussy is so fucking wet f’me. Did checking me out really get you this hot n’ bothered, baby?”
Your eyes start to close, fading out as that similar heat starts to build low in your stomach, as slow as his circles on your clit are, the impending orgasm is rushing at you in a record speed.
Your eyes jolt open as he shoves a long digit in as he barks out, “Nuh-uh.” You’re even more weightless as you practically float on his finger, jaw dropped as his actions have completely halted. “Keep those pretty eyes open and on me, got it?”
“Okay,” you whimper, clenching around the digit three knuckles deep.
“Good, good,” Eddie mutters, slowly moving his finger, watching your face carefully. “Jesus, you’re tight,” he bites out, adding a second finger without any warning. You sob through a little moan, the skin of his shoulders dimpling around your nails as they dug into it.
Slowly your moans have gotten louder, the temptation to allow your eyes to flutter closed fizzling at your vision but you push through it, bobbing up and down in the water in sync with his arm, giving your weight completely to him.
Your tongue laps across your bottom lip easily into a bite, still watching his face with his eyes on yours, what was just half a grin now spread into a manic smile. “You’re being so fucking good for me, sweetheart, just like you have all weekend. You take my fingers so well, can’t wait to see how you fucking take my cock.”
A whimper gasps through your lips, spasming around his fingers at his deliciously filthy words. “Fuck–Eddie–p-please–”
“See, making you moan my name wasn’t so hard,” Eddie whispers right as he leans in to capture your lips in his. His thumb starts rotating on your clit, quickly flooding you with an orgasm that you weren’t even aware you were that close to.
Eddie’s lips muffle the cry that otherwise would’ve been heard by the entire neighborhood, a shout of pure ecstasy that has you writhing up against his strong chest.
Your lips let go of his in a gasping breath, your lip trembling your elbows dig into the delicate skin between his ear and shoulder, pulling him closer as you bore into those big brown eyes. They’re as dark as the night sky yet they shine just as bright as the stars.
Smile lines and dimples are present as he stares up at you, his thumb still rotating slowly and fully responsible for the shaking of your poor thighs. His fingers are still in you, nestled and happy as he feels you flutter around them.
“You,” he drawls, slowly moving his fingers, “are radiant,” you can barely focus on the next kiss he seeks from you, your thighs clinging onto his hips, the momentum building even quicker and hotter than before.
“Oh m’god,” you whimper, throwing all your weight on one forearm as you suddenly have to get his fingers out, its too-too fucking much. “Ed–fuck!”
“You can take it,” he mumbles, one arm across your back as he peppers wet sloppy kisses along your collarbone. “Right? You can handle one more little orgasm.”
You buck into his hips as a silent confirmation, the splashing water around your forms loud from all your thrashing.
The kisses along your collarbone have moved south, the sudden scrape of his teeth against the curve of your breast a welcome shock as he starts to peel back the soaked fabric now glued to your skin like latex. “Look at these fuckin’ perfect tits,” Eddie growls, his hand movements turned sloppy as he wraps his tongue around the peaked nipple.
The added sensation clouds your head, bucking against him and practically sobbing into little whines while he perfectly works you like he already knows you.
“That’s it, fuck yourself on my fingers, you look so good like this, baby,” the praise lights your body ablaze, clutching onto him tighter.
Oddly enough the thing to send you over the edge again was a long lick up your sternum, an image you’ve seen time and time again on the edge of his guitar. Stars crash into your vision, knocking you senseless as you tug him in for a kiss, more teeth than lips as your legs shake but the giggles bubble out from your chest.
“Just one more?” He smirks, adding, Jesus, a third fucking finger.
“Eddie–” you startle, choking on your own oxygen.
“I really need to repay you,” he mutters, starting back on your jawline.
“Repay me?” You manage out, choking back a near shout when he curls his fingers just so.
He nods, focusing a toxic mix of his tongue and teeth against your racing pulse. “Mmhm. Repay you for every little time you managed to make me rock hard.”
“Huh?”
“Don’t worry.” he laughs, gnawing down your shoulder line. “I couldn’t repay you for every time, you’d be here for hours. And we both just found out how quick I can make you cum.”
You gulp, barely able to think through any of what he had just told you. “I-huh?”
“Jus’ one more, baby? Jus’ one more after being relentlessly teased by those fucking thighs of yours? Your pretty tits? That chokable neck–baby fuck you really make me fucking crazy–” his voice has somehow gone from commanding back to whining, his voice drowning in pure, needy, wanting.
“You are–” you start, cut off by a kiss he throws in as he becomes restless in his motions, “you are going to be the–” you giggle as he kisses you again, nipping at your bottom lip. “Ah–the end of me.”
“You fuckin’ like it, don’t you?” He laughs, one hand spread on the back of your neck as his eyes remain on yours. “You love how much my fingers can ruin you.”
“Your–your voice,” you choke out, eyes rolling into the back of your head. “Your voice does a lot-a lot a lot-of the work.”
He chuckles darkly, curling his fingers against your g-spot impossible harder, an impossible fire somehow hurling through your pussy still submerged in the pool. “I think I know why Hell’s Angels is your favorite album, hmm? It is a very carnal album.”
You giggle, somehow more cognitive. “My number one most played on Spotify.”
Eddie huffs out a chorus of laughter, leaning down to lick a wide fat stripe up your neck. “That is so fucking hot to me.” You shiver, blinded by the roll of ecstasy that just ran through you. “Would you believe I am just as obsessed with you?”
“It-it’s a high bar,” you admit, peeling your other arm out of its bra strap to completely expose yourself.
“Oh my god you’re fucking adorable,” Eddie hums, nibbling all down your chin, his lips seemingly unable to rest as they roam around you. “Now fucking cum for me so we can get out of this pool and I can finally fuck you.”
Something that’s only been possible under perfect circumstances while bonding with a vibrator occurs, you squirt all over his hand following a sudden heat that boils in your skin and acts like an anchor in your body weighing you down. The weightlessness water usually brings to you has disappeared swiftly, clinging onto him as he peels his fingers from where they sat still nestled as they finished working you through it.
He reciprocates the tight hug you give him, strong arms holding you close to his chest as your legs still spasm and quake.
“That’s my good girl,” he whispers encouragingly, gently petting your dampened hair. “C’mere, I’m gonna see if I–” he grunts, the muggy air engulfing you whole as he lifts you up onto the edge of the pool as if you weighed nothing, winking playfully as he lifts himself out.
“Ok, you obviously lift,” you mumble, being tugged by his hands and escorted into the house, leaving only the still lit embers of the pit and the scattered ingredients and clothes behind.
He chuckles, momentarily squeezing you as he wraps his arms and clasps them together in front of your torso. “Please, you weigh nothing.”
He stays like that every step on the cement to your house, playfully nipping at your neck, tickling it with his deep breaths until you reach the threshold of the double doors. Eddie lets go of you, watching your ass for a moment, your hand yanked by his hand in yours as he leans against the island kitchen counter.
“Where do you think you’re going?” he doesn’t give you a chance to respond, tilting your head as he lays a wet one on you.
“U-upstairs–” you sigh as he interrupts you again, magical, only the smell of beer left over but his lips so nice and plump.
“I don’t think so,” he mumbles, working his other arm around your torso to single handedly undo the bra clasp. It falls from your chest,Eddie eagerly kneading his hand on your left tit, two fingers playing with the nipple as you sigh into his mouth.
A whimper passes through your lips, gyrating your hips against his needily as you crave more friction despite your greedy cunt still soaked from its three releases. “Well then hurry up,” you huff, starting to play with the band of his boxers. “Can’t wait much longer.”
Your panties are yanked down, landing on the floor with a wet plop. Eddie lifts you effortlessly onto the counter, working his tented fabric against you roughly, watching your jaw drop as he rolls his hips against yours. “Please.”
“I would tell you to be patient but ever since I heard you yesterday I can’t think of anything else, baby,” Eddie sighs as you pull down his boxers, gasping as it bounces against his taut belly.
A sudden urge fills you to have its weight on your tongue, the girth down your neck, to fill your throat, the primal need alerting you as you never knew wanting a cock like this so badly was even possible. By pure instinct you reach out to grab him, basking in the moan he chokes out.
His voice could satiate a hungry belly, if you had one.
His previous confession suddenly sparks, looking up at him curiously as you work your hand along his devious length. “What did you hear yesterday?”
“Baby, your house has some thin fucking walls,” he husks out, watching your eyes go bug wide in the revelation. “I didn’t hear anything but moaning, but if it's any constellation, I hope you were thinking about me, because I sure as shit was thinking about you right outside your bedroom.”
You start to guide his leaky tip toward your mound, biting your lip as you peer up at him with doe eyes. “Please?”
“Were you?”
You sob out of desperation, your forehead landing on his shoulder. “Eddie, please–”
“Patience, slut.” You pause, pouting as you look up at him. “Were you thinkin about me while you greedily came over and over again?”
You nod, biting your lip anxiously as you glance down to his length only mere inches away from your weeping, begging entrance. “You used your tongue on the soft serve like it was–”
“I know I did, baby.” Eddie smirks, watching the shiver roll through you as the head collides with your clit. “So glad you noticed.”
You sigh impatiently, clawing your nails into his shoulder as he continues to tease you. “Eddie, pl–”
Your pathetic begging is turned off as soon as he pushes in, splitting you open as he slowly works his way to the hilt. “Jesus.”
“Eddie,” you moan, the heels of your hands digging into his collarbone. “F-fuck!”
His dark eyes bore into yours, labored breath piercing the air in the otherwise deadly quiet house. “I fuckin’ knew your pussy would be like this.”
“Like what?” You ask, pulling him closer as he did with you.
“Like a fuckin’ drug,” Eddie growls, rolling his hips against yours, the symphony of moans swallowed as he crashes his lips onto yours with an almost angry force.
It begins with a few stings, but the pleasure drowns it out before you even get a chance to revel in it, his cock hitting places you didn’t even know possible.
Your legs cling onto him, lapping kisses and nibbles down his chest hungrily as he works into you with choked out moans, seemingly losing himself in the heat of your pussy.
You slowly bruise your way down his chest, remembering every time you’d ever said how badly you’d wanted to bite him and to mark your territory as yours. All through the night he has called you his girl, but you finally get the chance to claim him. “Mine.”
“Feelin possessive, are we, baby?” He gasps out, curling his fingers through your hair and pulling at your scalp.”Wanting to claim this old man all yours?”
“You’re all fucking mine, Ed,” you claim again, moving to lap at one of his peaked nipples.
“As long as you’re mine,” he gasps back, pulling your head back up to where you can kiss him again.
You nod eagerly, the double meanings of the words seemingly lost on you to what he actually might mean. Regardless, the following kiss is desperate, even more so as his hips continue on their relentless pace.
You whine at the sudden loss, feeling empty and lonely when his body warmth leaves yours for the moment. “Bend over the fucking couch.”
It takes a minute to register, floating on the kitchen counter in a daze.
“Awww, my cock drunk slut,” his voice is sweet, malevolently so as his fingers dig into your hair and pull on your scalp as he leans in against your ear. “I said, bend over the fucking couch.”
You whimper, scrambling to climb down and run shakily to the living room. You’re guided by his hand in your hair again to the arm rest, using his foot to widen your stance. “Arch your back. More. There you go. Now be a good slut and tell me how fucking good it feels to be ripped in half by the rockstar of your dreams.”
Eddie lets go of your scalp to smack your ass, the thwack startling you in the best of ways as he watches it jiggle from the force. “Shove your face into the pillow, there we go.”
No more warning is provided when he pushes himself into you, making what you used to think was hard and fast into slow and pathetic. Eddie’s relentless hips are in their own fucking league. He sirens primal moans from you, your fingers digging into the cushions as he pounds into your pussy relentlessly.
“I just started, and you’ve already gone completely dumb? God I’ve ruined you for every bad fuck you’ve ever had.”
It’s true. Eddie Munson has ruined you in ways you simply could not comprehend, your torso practically flat on the couch as he tightens his grip on your hips. You push your ass against him, somehow communicating how fucking much you need him.
“Bet you’ve dreamed of this, yeah?” He mocks as his grip tightens on your hip. “Well for the last three nights I guess I returned the favour because I have dreamt of nothing but you. What you’d sound like, what you’d look like, god what you’d taste like— you’re in my fucking head.”
Your knees dig into his legs, your toes curled close to your ass as they possibly can be as you feel the impact of his hips start to form an ache against your thighs, your cheeks, fuck–your hole. Regardless of the spreading throb, you squeeze him tighter, silently begging for more. Just when you thought you understood what the term fucked stupid meant, you realize you had no idea as your brain starts to turn into mush.
“You’re taking it so fucking well, princess,” fuck, usually princess is a massive turn off but even you could tell the immediate reaction of you gushing around him. “Likes bein’ called princess, hmm? Give me your arm, then, princess.”
It’s a reflex how your hand raises backwards toward him, limply hanging as high as it can go which is barely a foot over your torso.
“Good, other one, too,” you whine, cut off by a sharp thrust as he grabs your other wrist to hold them both together in one hand. You think you’ve gotten the new position figured out when one hand moves up to your forearm, yanking it harshly so he has his good arm slotted between your elbows and the small of your back. “There we go.”
You’re practically standing on your two feet again, your back arched at an impossible angle as his other hand wraps itself around your neck. “Aah, that's much better. Look up.”
Your eyes flutter up to see a small round accent mirror on the wall directly across from you on the wall directly above a record player, yours and Eddie’s reflection featuring your faces, your hair tussled and eyes dazed. You blink to Eddie’s who’s smirking over your shoulder with hot cheeks and half-mooned eyes. You shyly look way from his possessive hold, having pulsed around him at how fucking gone you both look.
“Look back in the fucking mirror,” he commands, tightening his once lax grip on your neck so he constricts your airway just the littlest bit. “Look how fucking gone you are, you’re just covered in me, hmm?”
All you can do is bite your lip and push back on him, begging for his hips to continue that oh so powerful trek.
The following movement of his hips are barely noticeable, but your reflection gasps, her jaw dropping to the needed friction. “Ed–”
“Keep being my good princess and watch yourself be fucked in the mirror for me, won’t you sweet girl?” You nod, but Eddie doesn’t seem to care to wait for your answer, his hips colliding with your in a harsh slap, officially rendering any left over brain you might have had completely useless.
“Look at your fucking pretty face,” he shudders, starting to sound quite desperate himself. “There’s not a thought behind those gorgeous eyes of yours. Every muscle on your face is relaxed, your jaw falling open as if begging for me to shove my cock past those lips of yours, fuck you look so fucking perfect for me, princess.”
Your brain begs you to say something, to tell him how fucking good his cock feels, how he’s splitting you open as he feels impossibly deep as if he were kissing your cervix with every hit, how sex like this was only supposed to exist in softcore porn. How watching yourself get stupider with every hit with his hand wrapped around your neck in a claim of ownership turns you the fuck on, adding fuel to an out of control forest fire.
But your brain has turned into a puddle.
“That’s it, baby, keep bein’ good for me I’m almost done,” he lets go of your neck just to grab a handful of your hair once again. “G’nna fill that fuckin pussy up, s’ that ok?”
You find it in you somewhere to nod yes in direct juxtaposition against the grip on you, vision now fizzling as your eyes slowly fall closed. Whatever you have ever wasted time fantisizing clearly will never live up to the real thing.
Eddie’s words have warped into grunts and half finished sentences, hitting somewhere deliciously deep until his sticky ropes cover your walls up in him, filling you to the brim to make you impossibly, impossibly full.
He works himself through it, whimpering at his own sensitivities when the arm clutching yours sets you free but works itself on your clit once more, jerking you up from where you crumpeled forward onto the couch.
“Just need to feel you squeeze my cock while you cum, princess,” he mutters, sounding utterly destroyed as his voice croaks.
You try to wiggle away from him, feeling so oversensitive it forces its way up your throat in an intense sob. “Too-too much!”
“I know you can take it, princess,” he drawls, darkening his voice in the way he knows you like.
“Ed–”
“Please, jus’ for me?” He asks, his grip on your hip too tight for you to keep crawling forward.
“I-I c–” stars crash in your vision, thrashing as you feel his strong torso directly against your back.
“See?” he mumbles, peeling his arm around your tummy as he maneuvers you and him on your sides, spooning you on the couch, both covered in sweat. Eddie lifts your chin in his grip, shoving his tongue down your throat, the vibration of his humming helping you come back down to earth. “I knew you could do it.”
Somewhere in the kisses he slips himself out, distracting you with his marvelous kissing expertise as his hands find themselves enwrapping yours, fingers intertwined against your sternum fiercely as you get lost in his taste. Eventually you need to catch your breath, gasping as your head lands on the fabric of the sofa roughly, slowly drifting off to sleep.
Eddie gets up, ignoring your calls to stay with you. After some loud rummaging and swearing he returns, shocking you with a yelp as a wet cloth cleans you from the dripping cum out your full pussy. “Sorry. Didn’t want to ruin the nice couch.”
“Think we past ruined long ago,” you comment, peering up at him as he sends you a soft smile.
“Might be true.”
First thing you notice is he’s gotten dressed again, and just like that the spell is broken, and the aftermath of your adventures settle in.
His brown eyes tentatively meet yours, pensive and careful as you slowly sit up on the couch. What now?
He wears no smile on his face, searching yours as he leans in, his pointer finger hooked under your chin as he plants a gentle kiss on your lips that makes you miss the feel of him already. “I’m definitely not tired, would you like to watch a movie with me?”
You nod, eyes still closed as you reel from the whiff of emotions that repeatedly compound through you. “I don’t think I can stand.”
“I’d be insulted if you could,” he huffs, planting a sweet kiss on your nose. “Be right back. You want sweatpants or something more akin to those pretty dresses you’ve been flouncing around in?”
“Hmm, happy middle, please,” you ignore his jab, if just for the obvious amusement in his voice.
“Aah, a thong and a necklace coming up,” he jokes, running up the stairs before you could playfully glare at him.
He brings you a matching tank and shorts and a light blanket, setting up Smile for you two to watch as he curled you into his chest. When the movie is over you glance up at him, worried for what exactly came out his mouth next.
We probably should keep it as a one time only event.
You reluctantly agreed, crawling into a too big bed as you already miss his comforting weight right next to you. Sleep never comes, in fact, sleep has stopped texting you back because you have never been more wide awake.
Sweat seeps through the sheets and shines on your forehead as you wrap yourself up in an accidental burrito from all the turning and tossing, your emotions one puddle, thundering and storming into a lake of aroused confusion and clouded judgment as your weekend plays on repeat.
By the time the sky shines a periwinkle blue once again you’ve decided you could not take it for two more seconds, impulsively getting up to run back across the hall.
The door opens to a wildly disheveled head of curls, his hand raised as if he was about to knock. His mouth opens but you don’t give him the chance to tell you Yeah, no, fuck that, because your lips are on his in a flash, arms recklessly thrown around his shoulders and pulling him into your bedroom for some more of his lips, his hands, his hips, his tongue.
Neither of you had enough resolve to decide it would only be a one time thing.
-
Six Months Later
Eddie huffed a few bouts of laughter as you litter kisses all over his neck, refusing to listen to his out of breath protests as you nuzzle into his intoxicating stubble. “Babe, babe! I have to take a shower, I fucking stink!”
You giggle, working your hands up his fishnet shirt layered under the graphic tee. “Mhmm,” you hum, lapping up some rank sweat that has built up at the hinge of his jaw. “Smells amazing.”
“You’re a fucking freak, have I ever told you that?” He laughs, intertwining his fingers through your hair as he shoves his tongue down your throat.
“You’ve mentioned it,” you sigh, gasping against his minty breaths. “Helps having a smoking hot boyfriend, you know?”
“Baby, I really need a shower, I will meet you in the lounge,” he sighs, sounding like he’s about to give up.
“I could join you,” you suggest, pulling him in closer against you.
“As tempting as that is, we both know neither of us are getting any cleaner if that happens,” he sternly holds your face at a distance from his, his eyebrow flickering up pointedly when you attempt to lean in for more. “I promise to fuck you into the mattress, against the couch, and wherever else you might want later, okay, my sweet princess?”
“Fine,” you huff, grinning against his lips at the final sweet kiss he gives you, at the shivers down your spine that have never stopped, that have never shown signs of stopping.
The dressing room door closes behind you as the spray of the water hits the shower floor, a taunt that you are not in the cramped space with him, the one place you crave.
After offering his bandmates your best compliments, you act as a wallflower, watching the moon-eyed fans get their selfies as you played with the guitar pick chained around your wrist. You scrolled through your twitter app, saving photos of your gorgeous boyfriend in quality photos and the litter of hickeys you had spent hours giving him for hours the previous night.
A sudden impossible yet familiar laugh fills the air, your eyes snapping up to your dad’s familiar swoop of brown locks tossed back in a full body chuckle. Your stomach falls into the pits of hell.
You had checked with Eddie before hand that Steve hadn’t gotten any tickets emailed to him to avoid this very particularly sticky situation. You had agreed to keep it quiet until it started getting more serious.
Well…it had turned serious but you knew for a fact your dad wouldn’t be too happy with the coupling.
Your eyes jolt around the room to look for a quick escape, forgetting there’s only one door in, and unless you were going to turn unrealistically stealthy in the next minute, sneaking past him was not an option.
Your hesitation turns out to be your doom, just as you make a choice his brown eyes landed on you, lighting up in surprise.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
“Sunshine!” He calls out, holding his arms out and reaching for a hug. “What are you doing here? Thought you were staying with your roommate for the week!”
You had specifically told him you were stuck with your roommate who was getting over an ex boyfriend. The ex boyfriend part was right, but you were assisting from afar, with your own boyfriend luring you off the phone.
You hug him back, a wave of guilt washing over you, unable to relax in his familiar arms. “I made it down last minute!” The lie is forced, reminding you of times you knew you were caught but chose to dig deeper rather than climb out.
Sometimes it's just easier that way.
Steve’s brows furrow, crossing his arms just as something occurs to him. “How-how did you even make it down so quickly, I just called you this morning—“
He is interrupted by a familiar set of arms thrown around you from behind, squeezing you tight until you weasel out of them, your nerves on a hotwire.
For a moment that stretches out, lasting forever enough for you to see the V between Steve’s brow deepen, his head tilting ever so slightly, a slight frown downturning his lips.
And the panic that shifts every muscle of Eddie’s face when he sees Steve.
Finally, things set back into motion as puts on a facade of surprise, well not a facade as he’s actually surprised, he certainly knows how to put on a face of delight.
“Steve, my boy!” He collides his chest with his best friend, back pats exchanged as they embrace one another. “I didn’t know you were coming!”
Steve shrugs, his hands slotted into his pockets once they separate. “You didn’t answer my email, but Gareth did.”
When you switch your gaze to the drummer, he winks, telling you he has been paying attention to the shit show the entire time.
A few beats in the conversation, Steve starts to wonder if he was making everything up in his head, if he was just imagining your awkward stances and the way you’re standing just an inch too far away from one another.
Because there is no other reason you’d have to lie.
But all the little things keep sticking out to him. Your disheveled hair, in a way that couldn’t be manufactured. A bruise on Eddie’s neck, no bruises, but this one seemed familiar—
Steve’s eyes dart to your smudged lipstick, just barely fixed.
The fidgeting of a bracelet around your wrist, your anxious swaying, Eddie’s nervous rambling.
The way Eddie rushed to hug you like an old friend yet can’t seem it dare keep his eyes on you longer than a second.
”Eddie Munson, tell me you are not hooking up with my daughter.”
-
Oop.
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This is the last chapter hope y’all loved 😭
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tragedygroupie · 5 days
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babysitter blues
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cw: LEGAL age gap, fingering, praise kink, loss of virginity, p in v, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!), daddy kink, blink and you’ll miss it dacryphilia, authority kink (???), imbalanced power dynamic kinda???, alexandria rick, kind of long winded buildup to the smut, brief substance use (alcohol), soft dom! rick… yeah that’s all i can think of rn.
your entire life had been colored by an overwhelming sense of inertia. tucked away in the mundane labyrinth of the suburbs, not even the advent of the apocalypse could blot out the pervasive sense of ennui that had followed you since childhood. the horrors of the newly established outer world, the grotesque undead and the occasionally more dangerous still living were completely unknown to you. the apocalypse had not annihilated your reality, it merely redefined the confines of your sequestration.
life in alexandria was largely a matter of finding a way to pass the time. girls that barely qualified as adults weren’t exactly hot commodities, rarely sought out for anything, so it fell on you to fill the hours until the end of the world.
sometimes it was reading, which slowly morphed into a project of creating a library for the community, almost entirely curated from your own collection, with some generous donations here and there from bemused older folks surprised that young people still cared about that kind of thing.
other times it was babysitting, which started largely as preemptive measure to get out of being assigned any kind of work that would require any amount of physical activity. sure it was lazy, but you enjoyed the company of most of the kids, and they all liked you, enchanted by the whimsical dresses you wore and the stuffed animal army you had at your disposal.
truly, the only visible sign that you were experiencing an apocalypse rather than another red hot american summer were the bags under your eyes, perpetually exhausted from the never ending parade of nightmares that left you jolting awake, violently gasping for air.
a girl like you had no business hanging around a man like rick grimes. perpetually tense, eyes wildly darting around like he was itching to drive the butter knife he spread his jam with into the throat of some unspecified assailant. a bloody splash of color in your grayscale world. he was unlike anything you’d ever seen, a Marlboro man, blue collar through and through, from the dirt that he could never seem to fully rid his nails of to the rough, calloused hands that secretly made your mouth water.
this was the apocalypse, yet your sense of self preservation was as brittle as it’d been when you were sixteen. all your snark, that goddamn mouth that always got you in trouble evaporated when you were around him, replaced with an unfamiliar earnestness that made you cringe internally. you tried, really you did, to not follow him around like a lovesick puppy, to think of reasonable pretenses for your incessant need to be in his proximity, and fortunately enough, you quickly found an in.
no matter how adept rick was in this new world, he seemingly struggled when it came to childcare. when it came to his daughter, he was wildly protective yet somehow simultaneously clueless, and the first time you saw something approaching relief flash through his eyes was when you offered to look after her.
truth be told, rick didn’t quite know what to make of you. you were soft without being stupid, sheltered but not maddeningly clueless, and your eagerness to listen to him when everyone else dismissed him as paranoid endeared you to him in a way no one else in Alexandria quite managed. when you offered to look after judith, the last thing he thought was that you’d become a distraction. you were pretty, sure, but you were young enough to be his daughter, and if there was one thing rick grimes wasn’t, it was cliché.
but goddamn did you make it hard. his life in the new world had been characterized by leaving absolutely no room for error, every potential outcome identified and accounted for. yet in his brief respite from having to care for his daughter entirely by himself, he failed to consider that you wouldn’t just be a hot flash of want that pulsed through his veins whenever he happened to run into you, you’d be in his home. he was a stronger man than most, but he was still a man, and being in such close proximity to that kind of temptation was enough to drive anyone crazy.
every time he walked through the door it was something new. sitting on the floor with your hands outstretched, beckoning judith to crawl towards you, oblivious to your skirt riding up your parted thighs. bending over the cradle to kiss her good night, while the cotton of your already short dress just barely covered your ass.
you may not have been completely clueless about the dangers outside the walls, but you were downright brainless when it came to the effect you had on him, and it was that very lack of awareness that had him fucking his fist in the shower, coming with a groan to the thought of those pretty, naive eyes looking up at him as he split you open. it wasn’t enough, like putting a bandaid over a cut that sliced to the bone, but it was a safety valve, it kept him from doing something stupid.
today shouldn’t have been any different from the routine he had established. he got home as dusk started to settle, having made an extra effort to see judith before she went to bed. he tried to leave the frustrations of today at the door, determined to be a good father, to exact control over the flaming emotions that licked up his chest, stopping the spread before he became engulfed.
as soon as he hears your voice, with its lilting quality as you respond to judith’s babbling, the hard lines that have taken up a virtually permanent residence on his forehead soften. he walks across the threshold, into the living room where you’re sprawled across the couch, judith sitting on your lap. you get up, and he has a blissful few seconds to admire the dress you’re wearing, a little white dress with embroidered flowers better suited for frolicking in a garden than waiting out the end of the world, before you open your mouth to greet him.
“look who’s here judith! daddy’s here!”
fuck.
he knows you didn’t mean it like that, and a better man wouldn’t have thought anything of it. a clearly innocent comment shouldn’t have the blood draining from his head and rushing towards his dick, but the way that word rolls off your tongue is downright sinful. his face is an impenetrable mask of cordiality, concealing his desire as he answers.
“how’re my girls?”
it’s more forward than he’d be under any other circumstances, but he can’t help it, he needs to see if his words affect you the way yours do him. sure enough, a rosy blush blossoms across your cheeks as you hand Judith to him. the words rattle around your head, and you make a mental note to remember it for later, when you’re alone and twilight has fallen, so you can replay it in earnest.
“she’s been wonderful, we had so much fun today, didn’t we Judith?”
you go on, filling him in with details about the day, your voice becoming a pleasant hum that barely filters through, he’s too busy looking at you. all soft curves to his taut muscles, hands that’ve never seen a day of hard work. fragile things like you normally fill him with a vague sense of irritation, if not downright disgust, but with you it’s different, the overwhelming need to lay claim to the last bit of silken sweetness in this apocalyptic wasteland threatening to undo him.
dimly, he becomes aware that you’re asking if he wants to put Judith to bed tonight, and a dull panic sets in. you can’t leave, not yet, not until he’s gotten to feel you.
“i’d like to see how you do it. for future reference” he says, his voice cool and glacial, completely devoid of the growing desperation blooming in his abdomen.
you nod, secretly proud at the prospect of teaching him something. he’s so worldly, so knowledgeable in things you hadn’t even conceived, and the idea of him wanting to learn from you about anything makes you feel mature, no longer a lovesick puppy yapping at his heels.
you three go to judith’s nursery, and when he passes her to you, you begin to show him the routine you’ve established. it’s quick, nothing flashy, just getting her changed into her pjs, singing a quick song, and stroking her hair until she falls asleep. mercifully, she’s out like a light, and the two of you creep out of her room, careful not to disturb her. when you get into the hall, you avoid his eyes, unsure of what to do now. you see him so rarely, and without the buffer of Judith, you feel small again, all that newfound maturity fleeting, like it was never there.
rick has to suppress a smirk at your shyness, and after a beat of silence, he’s unable to resist making an offer.
“you want a drink?”
you look up at him, trying in vain to hide your excitement.
“sure.”
one drink follows another, though you never quite manage to get rid of the grimace that accompanies each swig. its endearing, he knows you’re only drinking this shitty beer because he offered it, trying to convince him that you can handle yourself. you’re sitting together on the couch, and the once respectable distance between the two of you has shrunk down considerably, your knee against his as you go on and on, talking about anything that catches your fancy. to his credit, he doesn’t seem to mind, nodding and trying to focus on your words rather than how soft and warm your thigh feels pressed against his.
“i know the whole library idea seem… frivolous, but you should come by sometime. i can recommend you something good.”
he smirks, his voice coming out low and measured.
“never said that darlin. i just don’t have a whole lot of time for reading.”
you shake your head, your voice earnest in a way that would leave you mortified if you were sober, trying to ignore the pang of need in your cunt at the pet name.
“bullshit. you’ve probably just… never read a good book. with the way the world is… who doesn’t need escapism sometimes?”
he nods, clearly humoring you. it’s nice to see you passionate about something, even if he shares absolutely no interest in it. he notices how you shift next to him, your thighs pressing together at the pet name, and makes sure to take note of it.
“amen to that.” he says, taking another swig from the bottle you’ve been sharing.
when he looks back at you, you have a dreamy, far away look in your eyes. he raises an eyebrow at you, his voice coming out teasing.
“have i got something on my face?”
you shake your head earnestly, your voice coming out achingly sincere.
“you have really nice eyes.”
he scoffs, amused by the observation. it’s something you’d normally be too scared to say to him, but the beer has clearly loosened your inhibitions, and goddamn if he doesn’t love it.
when you lean towards him, your lips meeting his softly, all unsure and sweet, it’s all he can do to not groan. this is wrong, you’re young enough to be his daughter, he should be the adult here, put a stop to this and gently tell you that you deserve better than him.
instead, he finds himself kissing you back, all those good, proper sentiments dying in his throat as he pulls you into his lap, his mouth never leaving yours. his hands are all over you, exploring every inch of the soft, supple flesh he’s been craving for god knows how long. you’re trying to keep up, your mouth clumsy and shy against his, but he’s relentless, his tongue slipping into your mouth as he kneads the plush of your ass through your white lace panties.
your dress is riding up your thighs, and it’s all he can do to not tear it off you. he knows he needs to be gentle, he gets the sense that you haven’t got much experience in this arena, even though his more primal instinct is to push you against the wall and fuck you till you see black. instead, his hands creep up your thighs, until he’s cupping your clothed cunt, your panties already dewy with arousal.
“fuck baby, all this for me?” he asks, his voice teasing as he marvels at how easily aroused you are. all this from a few kisses, it’s really just too easy.
you let out a keening whine, your hips instinctively rocking your cunt against his hand, desperate for any amount of friction. you nod desperately, too dumbstruck for words.
he chuckles, slowly starting to rub you through your underwear.
“use your words, pretty girl.” he says, his voice half joking, but with an undercurrent of seriousness, a warning that he’ll stop if you don’t comply.
your eyes flutter shut, the puffy sleeves of your dress falling down your shoulders as your hands go to grip his big arms.
“all.. for… you” you pant, your cheeks burning red.
it’s embarrassing really, how soaked your panties are. it makes you feel like a slut, but you know you wouldn’t get this way for just anyone. you couldn’t imagine being this easy for someone else, and if you were more clear headed you’d try to tell him, but all you can do is mewl pathetically, frustrated by how the lace of your panties dilutes the feeling of his fingers on you.
he chuckles, reading you like a book. he moves the lace aside, dipping his index finger into your aching cunt, biting back a groan when you gasp.
“that feel good, baby?” he asks, already knowing the answer.
you let out a whiny mhmmm, and he allows it, pumping steadily while the rough pad of his thumb rubs circles onto your clit. when he curls his thick finger inside you, you swear you see stars, and your nails dig into the weathered muscles of his arms.
“oh fuck, daddy” you mumble, too far gone to notice or care that you slipped up, oblivious to how his eyes light up at your words.
“poor thing… those little fingers just don’t do it for you, do they? can’t reach that far, isn’t that right?” he says, condescension dripping from his voice.
you nod furiously, your hips bucking into his touch as your head lolls for, letting him pull you closer into his arms as you whimper out a response.
“s-so close daddy”
he coos at you, that sweet desperation making him throb in his jeans. normally he’d make you work for it, make you respond to all his questions to build good habits (because there would be a next time), but he figures he’ll go easy on you just this once, especially when you plead so pretty.
“go on baby. make a mess f’me.” he says encouragingly, and that’s all it takes for you to come, burying your forehead into his chest as you ride out your high.
when you go limp, he starts stroking your hair, maneuvering your head so you’re facing him. he kisses you again, and it takes a moment before you kiss him back, your brain still partially fogged over from pleasure.
“you act like no one’s ever made you cum before” he says teasingly, and when your face flushes it just confirms what he already thought: you’re a virgin.
you avoid his eyes, your voice coming out all shy and flustered.
“i don’t really have much experience… is that a problem?”
he has to resist the urge to scoff, because no, that is absolutely not a problem. if anything, it makes him want you more. but he doesn’t want to scare you, so he just tilts your chin up so you’re looking at him, his hand cupping your cheek.
“it’s not a problem at all, honey. just wanna make sure you’re okay with all this.”
it takes all his self restraint to ask you that, because his jeans feel far too tight and all he wants to do is bury himself inside you before he preemptively blows his load, but he knows he needs to make sure you’re ready, that you want this too. despite everything, he’s still trying to be a good man.
you look up at him, and you nod, your pupils all blown out and hazy.
“ ‘m sure.” you say softly, before reaching up to kiss him.
he savors the kiss, giving you a moment before he stands up. you let out a small squeak, your thighs immediately going to wrap around his waist, looking at him in confusion.
“what, did you think i was gonna take your virginity on the damn couch? i’m not a goddamn animal” he grumbles, looking at you with fond irritation as you giggle.
he presses his lips to yours to keep you quiet, sloppily making out with you as he makes his way to the bedroom. when he gets inside, he lays you down on the bed gently, his mouth never leaving yours.
he gets you undressed in no time, not giving you a hard time about the fact that your white lace panties and bra are matching (almost like you were asking for it), and when your unsteady hands finally finish fumbling with his belt you get to see his cock for the first time. and fuck is he huge.
he looms over you, his arms caging you in as he presses warm kisses to your neck, trying to ease your worry. when he pushes in, he goes all the way, burying himself to the hilt. your eyes roll back in your head, letting out a soft cry as you snake your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to you as he lets you adjust.
when he starts to move, he sets a slow, steady pace, and the ache gives way to newfound pleasure, your eyes screwing shut as he goes deeper than you knew was previously possible.
“fuck baby. you’re so fucking tight.” he mumbles, sucking a bruise onto your neck as you let out a moan.
when he’s sure you’re not gonna break, he starts to pick up the pace, his thrusts becoming harder and more pointed, earning whimpers and moans that seem to come from deep in your gut. tears start to fall down your cheeks, not from pain but from a combination of pleasure and being so overwhelmed.
“you cry so pretty, baby.” he says, angling his thrusts to hit that spongy spot inside your walls.
your face scrunches up as you get that newly familiar coiling feeling in your stomach, and you blearily open your eyes to look up at him, your bottom lip quivering.
“daddy… can i cum, please?” you whimper brokenly, and if he wasn’t almost there already, that definitely pushed him.
“such a sweet thing, asking permission on her first time. you can come baby, go on” he responds, his firm grip on your hips teetering dangerously close to bruising.
when you come, he can feel you pulsating around him, squeezing him like a goddamn vice, trying to milk him for all he’s got. it only takes a few more sloppy thrusts for him to join you, coming in you with a groan.
once you both came down from your highs, you turned to him, your body exhausted and spent. you weren’t exactly sure what he expected of you, you’d never hooked up with your employer before and all conventions about appropriateness were completely out the window when you had his spend dripping down your thighs.
“can i stay the night?” you ask quietly, your cheeks red with embarrassment.
to your relief, he just chuckles and pulls you closer, your head resting on his chest as he wraps an arm around you.
“sweet girl, i’d be a right asshole if i sent you home like this.”
you smile, quickly falling asleep in his arms. and for what feels like the first time in months, rick finds himself dozing off without much of a fight too.
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ryanmarshallryan · 3 months
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Pride Pool Party
Here is a vore story inspired by a scenario requested by @malebellyvore987
Nathaniel and Jonathan were having a lot of fun celebrating their first pride month together as boyfriends. They went to the local parade and watched all the fun floats go by, waving to their friends who were marching along among the floats. Nathaniel’s younger brother, Hector, had never been to a pride parade but had always wanted to go, so they let him tag along.
“I think Mario’s hosting a pool party sometime later today,” Jonathan mentioned to Nathaniel as they watched a gay men’s chorus march by blasting Chappel Roan, “did you wanna stop by for a bit? Maybe after we drop off Hector?”
Before Nathaniel could chime in, Hector who had been listening blurted out “Pool party! I wanna come!”
“Hector, this won’t be like one of your college frat parties,” Nathaniel responded, adjusting his sunglasses in the hot sun, “I think the dress code is speedos… or less.”
“C’mon we don’t have a pool, and it is soooo hot. I don’t have a problem with guys there assuming I’m gay,” Hector retorted.
“Yeah, but isn't this like your first pride? We don’t wanna overwhelm you too much,” Jonathan added.
“Guys relax, I can blend in. Anyways I’d spend most of my time under the water, not bothering anybody…” Hector replied, now beginning to pull his sweat drenched shirt off over his head, “but I’ll let everyone enjoy the view.”
“Gross,” Nathaniel joked when Hector revealed his skinny toned frame. Someone on a float whistled at him and Hector spun his shirt around over his head in response.
After making their way back through the crowds and taking the subway, they found their friend Mario’s apartment complex and headed over to the secluded pool area. 
The scene had been decked out in the vomit of a rainbow monster. Multi-colored streamers adorned the fence. A rainbow-sequined fabric was strung up near a box of props for photo taking. The pool was littered with rainbow and pool donuts, and the snack table was arranged as well with donuts adorning rainbow designs. Hector admired some particularly lewd posters hanging by a changing area, and saw a caption underneath that read like “Made by an actual, full-time gay man, not but some money hungry conglomerate that showers the world in rainbows only one month a year.”
Nathaniel and Jonathan found their way into a changing area, visited with Mario and chatted a bit, then dove into the pool to cool off for a bit and socialize with the other swimmers. Jonathan began to remark “where’s Hector,” when they saw a flash above their heads as Hector jumped over them in only his underwear and did a cannonball in the center of the crowd.
“Well, there’s your answer,” said Nathaniel, wiping water out of his eyes.
Hector stayed true to his word and began exploring under the water to get out of the heat. At one point he came up to Jonathan and Nathaniel and whispered, “I’ve never seen so many yahoos in my life!”
“Yahoos? You sound like you're twelve,” Nathaniel replied.
“Hector, maybe don’t stalk guys' junk from under the water,” Jonathan added, “It’s kinda weird.”
“Only admiring, don’t worry,” Hector said, then pointing to a guy across the pool, “He’s been doing it, too.”
“I think I’m gonna go dive into the pool,” Nathaniel said, searching for an excuse to leave this uncomfortable conversation. 
Hector nodded goodbye, then went off jumping back underwater and splashing nearby swimmers who were caught off guard.
Nathaniel closed his eyes and took a deep breath and tried to convince himself that everything was going great, willing the universe to not let his brother mess up his pride pool party day. Apparently the universe had other plans. For the moment Nathaniel opened his eyes and lept head first to dive into the water, he saw a slim figure approaching from the depths of the pool, that was not his reflection.
It happened very quickly. Hector, who had been playing around sitting on the bottom of the deep end, then coming up for air at the last second, zoomed to the surface and opened his mouth as wide as he could to take in a big gulp of air. But instead he got a face full of his brother, Nathaniel, who slammed hard into the back of his throat, and kept sliding down with astonishing speed into his rapidly expanding stomach. Nathaniel felt his arms crumple against his body, as he was forced to curl up, tightly encased in the balloon of his brother’s stomach. Hector, had the wind knocked out of him from the unexpected gulp of Nathaniel, and experienced a short period of shock as he tried to suck in air but could not pull down his diaphragm. 
Jonathan swam over, planning to greet Nathaniel in the pool, and wiped the water out of his face to find Hector, who was now wheezing with his torso under the water.
“Hector, are you okay? Did you swallow a bunch of water or something?” Jonathan asked, concernedly.
Hector tried to respond but was still too out of breath to form words. But a guttural, mumbled and grumbling sound issued out of his throat. Hector took one more deep breath and opened his mouth to speak, but instead found another voice issuing from out of his throat saying, “Oh he swallowed something all right!”
Jonathan looked down in surprise. He assumed the large view of Hector’s gut was simply an illusion of the light refracting in the water. He plunged under the water, opened his eyes to the stinging chlorine, and put his ear to Hector’s deformed and distended belly, which was forming the exact shape of his boyfriend in fetal position. He could hear frustrated grunting.
“Hector, you ate my boyfriend? You ate your brother?” Jonathan yelled in confusion.
Hector replied with a sheepish, toothy smile to show apology. “In my defense he literally dove down my throat,” Hector replied, now rubbing his tight gut.
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“Regardless of how it happened, it’s time to get him out. Right now,” Jonathan tried to push on Hector’s stomach, but ended up just pushing Hector through the water to the shallow end. Swimmers they passed by stopped the conversation to gaze at the unexpected view of the tight man-filled belly emerging out of the water. “Nothing to see here people, unless you got some emetic drugs or something.”
Jonathan got Hector up against a wall of the pool and continued pushing, but that just made Nathaniel more uncomfortable, and as he tried to wriggle around to avoid being squeezed too hard by the stomach and added pressure of Jonathan’s hands, Hector moaned in discomfort as his insides were pressed tightly against his spine to make room for the comparatively gigantic mass in his gut. 
Next, Jonathan made Hector open his mouth wide again, and tried to shove his arms down Hector’s throat to grab Nathaniel and pull him out. This not only did not work, it had the opposite result, as Hector’s peristalsis kicked in and he began swallowing Jonathan as well.
Jonathan had just enough time to yell “I need a big strong bear to pull me out of this!!!” before his head was sucked in along with his arms into Hector’s powerful esophagus. 
By the time the bears had been summoned, Jonathan was up past his groin into Hector’s mouth and throat, and his arms and head had reached the stomach. Jonathan and Nathaniel got closer than they ever got before as they were crushed between Hector’s clammy stomach walls, with tingling stomach acid and sweat making it difficult to grip onto one another.
One of the bears reached his arms around the slender waist of Hector from the back and picked him up, with pressure on the lower half of Hector’s belly. Two other bears grabbed hold of Jonathan’s legs, which only the lower half of were showing outside of Hector’s mouth. Mario came over too and started chanting “1… 2… 3… Heave!!!” over and over again. LIttle by little, inch by inch, they pulled Jonathan’s body back out of Hector’s maw. Jonathan was trying his best to hold tight to Nathaniel, but as his head made it past Hector’s face, he felt his hands slipping. Luckily one of the bears noticed, grabbing onto Nathaniel’s wrist and pulling with a great might. 
Once Nathaniel and Jonathan were freed from Hector’s surprisingly powerful and durable stomach, the lot of them waded in the water with the bears, all catching their breath. The guys thanked the bears, who thanked them for an unexpected and interesting experience. One of the bears tickled Hector’s belly and joked that the little’s stomach was much bigger than his eyes it seemed. The other bear that had held Hector from the back gave Hector a slap on the butt, and swam on.
The last of the bears admired Nathaniel and Jonathan saying, “Hey if you two ever wanna have fun inside a gut that’s actually roomy enough to hold both of you, send me a message.” He pulled a sticky note pad and a pen out of his pocket and wrote his number down twice and gave it to each of them. The bear gave them a wink, and swam backwards, letting his belly rise above the water, looking like a whale coming up for air.
“How did that guy have a dry piece of paper in his pocket?” Jonathan asked.
“Honestly a lot of surprising things happened today and that’s the least of my concerns,” Nathaniel replied.
Jonathan held the paper up out of the water to avoid getting it wet, “Well, it could be fun to try something new.”
Mario dove into the water next to them and came to chat. “All right, Hector? Maybe refrain from eating these lads in the future,” he said, patting Jonathan and Nathaniel on the backs, “but if I run into any willing meals I’ll send them your way,” he said with a wink.
“Oh, no, that was all an accident, I didn’t mean to - wait, there are guys willing to - ” Hector began.
“Thanks so much for hosting, Mario. Sorry for my brother. He gets nervous and starts stress eating in crowds,” Nathaniel cut him off.
“No I don’t! Don’t make me - “ Hector began again.
“Well don’t just be food, come eat some! We’ve got a great buffet over by the changing rooms. And I mean eat as much as you can, I do not have the fridge space for all of this,” Mario implored them.
“I think I know a guy who could definitely help with that,” Nathaniel said, just before playfully punching Hector in the gut. “Race ya,” and they were off to the buffet to fill their bellies, and enjoy the rest of the pride pool party.
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finalgirllx · 3 months
Text
heart-shaped sunglasses
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here is some cheeky-as-ever lorenzo berkshire for the first week of @thatdammchickennugget and i's jinxed july challenge. sunglasses are my favorite accessory, especially my heart-shaped ones, so have a small ode to them. fluff | 700 words | f!reader implied
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You sprawl onto a lounger near the shore, not quite ready to take the plunge but still eager to enjoy a sweltering summer day with your closest mates. Dressed in your favorite swimwear and proud of what it shows off, you feel at ease with the sun's rays hitting your skin, comforted by the warm season's sorely missed energy.
The infectious laughter of your friends abruptly overtakes your peacefulness as they banter about who brought the ‘piss-poor selection of liquor’ this time while running to the water.
"Showing off, love?" Enzo’s voice taunts you as his towering figure suddenly blocks your precious sun. He must have made a detour simply to antagonize you, you fear.
"What are you on about, Berkshire?" you retort, shooting a faux-judgmental look up at him. Though the sun's brightness causes you to squint, you catch Enzo's slightly-burnt face adorned with an unmistakably cocky expression that only he can pull off without getting smacked. His grin reveals deep cheek dimples and his brown eyes appear glazed with honey under the sunlight. You try to recenter on his words, not just his lips.
"Just… appreciating getting to see more of you, is all," Enzo responds with a tight-lipped smirk. He backs away, acting more sly than usual. Utterly confused, you let out a slight "hmph" and shake off his words. You focus your energy instead on the light seeping into you now that the tall and broad brunet walks away to rejoin the guys.
In an effort to appear effortlessly cool, you lower your prized accessory over your eyes: a pair of red heart-shaped sunglasses that you believe ups your 'it' factor by tenfold.
Now viewing the world through a pink hue, your gaze inadvertently falls onto Enzo yet again. He takes his first steps into the water and is promptly splashed into oblivion by Mattheo and Theo. You suppress a smirk as he wipes off the excess and promptly unleashes his own splash attacks in retaliation. This quickly descends into a water war between the lot of them. The colorful jabs they make as they douse one another makes you chuckle.
Keeping up a close friendship with the boys has been no easy challenge since they had all lucked out and gotten cuter by the year. Blissful moments like this constantly threaten the middling resistance you show to avoid catching any 'more-than-a-friend' feelings. Usually, fleeting thoughts of weakness can be dissuaded simply by watching them for a little too long. Like just now, seeing Mattheo take a splash to the face and whine like a puppy as he rubs his eyes with balled-up fists. Poor thing. At least you're reminded that they are more goofballs than boyfriend material. You don't want to mess things up, anyway. Of course not.
As more antics unfold, your attention annoyingly keeps getting swept up in Enzo. You chalk this up to him being the most visually interesting. Nothing wrong with finding your best friend pretty, you suppose. It is merely an appreciation for his dedication to Quidditch practice, which shows in his physique. Broad-shouldered, toned abdomen, arms that look like they could lift… a lot. Down to the moles forming constellations on his back, you get lost in your admiration. While the sole intention of the glasses isn't to cover up your ogling, you are certainly bolder with your gaze.
"Like what you see?" the devil himself's voice rings while pointing straight at you. You curse internally over being caught as Enzo exits the water to approach you again. In a weak attempt to stay as composed as possible in the face of Enzo's teasing, you raise your brows behind your trendy frames to test him.
"It's a lovely beach," you finally reply with pursed lips, flicking your gaze out to the water, which glistens with the sun.
"Yeah, right. I can see you ogling me," Enzo points out once he is near enough that droplets from his wet hair practically spray your legs. He wags a finger toward your sunglasses. "Those aren't as opaque as you hoped, love. No shame, I know I make for some delicious eye candy," he boasts as his ego soars past all reasonability. Any hope of a sassy remark gets caught in your throat. You failed to credit Enzo's perceptiveness, and now he relishes in how your attitude melts away, momentarily tongue-tied. Enzo extends a hand to you, his tone is still playful but softer this time. "Come on, can't handle the heat? Let's get you in the water, love; that'll cool you down."
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pastel-peach-writes · 10 months
Note
Can you CatVi x Reader where Reader touched VI’s jacket and it got into a mess of paint that the Reader was painting and Vi and Cait came home and saw the painting but saw VI’s jacket. But Vi was shocked and didn’t say anything but was angry.
Comin' right up!
Don't Cry Over Spilled Paint | CaitVi x Reader
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╰┈➤ PLOT: Messy. That was the word to describe you and your relationship with paint. After fair warnings to wash your hands after you paint, you get yourself into some trouble that might bite you in the butt later on.
╰┈➤ WARNINGS: Cursing, Not Proofread, 3000+ words, No Use of Y/n, Angry Vi, Fluff Towards The End, Caitlyn Giggles (shh)
⍣ ೋ Enjoy!⍣ ೋ
(A/N): UMMM totally didn't see where Anon said Vi doesn't say anything ab being upset. She totally did and IM SO SORRY ANON 😭😭
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You weren't sure how it happened. One minute you were painting a beautiful piece that showed Zaun in its light and then the next you were frantically scrubbing paint off of Vi's red jacket.
Maybe this could've been avoided if you just listened to Caitlyn.
"Make sure you wash your hands after you paint," she would always say to you. "You touch everything after you paint and you get paint everywhere."
You should've listened to her, you really should've, but she wasn’t here to warn you. So, technically, this was on her!
"Come on, come on," you muttered as you scrubbed a white rag on the jacket. Luckily, the paint spot was small. The color of the paint a navy blue and it was right next to some forever dirt patches in the jacket so the spot wasn't noticeable.
With the jacket and rag underneath running water, you declared the jacket done. The paint had already dried and there was no going back now. Besides, would Vi really notice that minuscule spot? You didn't think so.
A relieved sigh escaped your mouth as you shut off the tap. Wringing the rag out, you noticed two palm-sized white spots on the jacket. You set the rag down, going to inspect the jacket but before the jacket even touched your hands, your heart dropped to your feet.
The palms of your hands were white from priming your next canvas. The same white on the jacket matched the white on your hands.
Maybe it's just a coincidence.
You leaned your head further into the sink, too terrified to even touch the jacket. Through the white primer on the jacket, some lines and cracks matched the pattern of a human's palms. Okay, if your heart hadn't sunk before, it was now. Oh, and now you were trembling with fear.
You turned the tap on again. The water splashed and sprouted upwards from hitting Vi's jacket. You watched as the soaked jacket continued to take more water but the white spots not diminishing.
You turned the tap to hot.
Still the same reaction. Jacket soaks up water, paint remains untouched.
You should've noticed that the paint on your hands wasn't transferring to the faucet handles; a sign of dried hand paint.
"We're home!" Caitlyn's voice rang throughout the home.
Shit.
You thought you had more time. You thought you could take her jacket to the dry cleaners and get someone to professionally get the paint out yet leave all the dirt and grime so Vi wouldn't notice the difference.
You thought you had time to research how to get primer out of fabric and search up which primer you used to see if it was water-soluble. Was there even such a thing as a water-soluble primer? What's the point of a primer if it disappears with water?? FUCK.
Wooden creaks and deep steps rattled the floor above you. Caitlyn and Vi were settling themselves in the kitchen. This meant you had some time to hide the jacket in your studio before Vi noticed her missing jacket.
Quickly, you grabbed a plastic bag and shoved her jacket inside. You needed to keep the jacket wet. The wetter the jacket, the easier the paint comes out. Well, that was your theory at least. Tying the bag into knots you'll have to cut out later, you shoved the bag into a box of battered art supplies.
Don't ask why you have a large cardboard box filled with dead/empty art supplies. You don't know yourself.
"Muffin!" Vi shouted from the studio's entrance. "You comin' up or what?"
"Yeah!" your voice trembled. "Just trying to wash some paint off my hands."
Hearing the slight tremble in your voice, Vi took it upon herself to travel down into the basement-- oh, sorry, into your art studio -- to see what was the matter.
However, once she reached the halfway point of the staircase, you came running up.
"Whoa," Vi laughed. She placed her hands on your shoulders to prevent the two of you from colliding. "Where's the fire?"
You chuckled, sheepish and breathless. "Oh, uh. I thought you guys needed me and I didn't want you to wait much longer."
"Oh, well, that's cute of you, Muffin, but we're alright." Vi ruffled your hair. "I just wanted to make sure you ate your food before it gets cold."
"Aw, you got me food?" You put your hands on her shoulders and pushed her up the stairs. There was some resistance, naturally, but Vi let you push her up anyway.
"Well, yeah we know you've been--"
"Caitlyn!" you greeted, locking eyes with her. The girl was mid-bite in a pancake, the circle good dangling from her mouth and eyes wide. Vi laughed at her and the girl quickly took the pancake from her mouth with red cheeks.
"H-Hi!" she returned the greeting. She stood up from the counter and cleaned her hands off with a napkin. "Um, we got you food. Your favorite breakfast meal."
"Oh, great!" You removed your hands from Vi's body and made a beeline into the kitchen. The food was already plated for you with your favorite beverage on the side. You ate contently, trying not to let your worry show through facial expressions.
What was your plan now? Do you tell her? Do you let that jacket mildew and mold and hope she forgets about it? No, there's not way she could forget about it. She wears that jacket every damn day.
"Muffin," Vi said, pulling you out of your thoughts. Caitlyn and Vi were sitting at the counter across from you. When did they get there? You had no clue. "Why are your palms white? Like, whiter than Caitlyn white?"
You stifled a laugh while Caitlyn swatted her arm. "I was painting. That's why I was in the studio."
"Yeah, I know," Vi said through laughter. Caitlyn's swat had no effect on her. "But I thought you were washing your hands? Your hands were wet when you were pushing me up the-- wait," Violet deadpanned. "I don't have paint on me, do I?"
Frantic, the woman searched her arms for paint. The woman was wearing nothing but a plain white tank and some random pants. You would totally be distracted by her buff arms if your heart wasn't slowly finding its place in your chest.
Caitlyn hummed, eating a piece of pancake while she searched Vi's body. "No, you look fine which tells me someone forgot to wash their hands after they were done painting again." You received a scolding look from the English lady.
You shrugged with a dry chuckle. "Don't worry. I didn't get paint on anything."
Safe to say, your girlfriends did not believe you. Immediately springing up from their chairs, they raced to your studio despite your pleas.
They couldn't find any new marks of paint on the walls or support pillars. In fact, when they were done searching, they stumbled upon your Zaun painting and praised you for how well you captured the city.
"Wow, Muffin, you did really good with this," Vi complimented. Her fingers reached out towards the canvas, but you quickly slapped her hand away.
"Don't touch! It's still wet."
Vi snickered but obeyed. She stepped back but continued to admire your recent artwork.
Caitlyn, on the other hand, wasn't fully convinced you didn't touch anything with your painted hands. She strode towards the sink to see if there were any new paint marks. Instead of finding new paint, she found that the sink was still shiny from recent usage.
She hummed to herself. Vi said your hands were wet, though no paint transferred to her arms. So, your hands weren't wet with paint but with water. Caitlyn's gaze flickered over to your damp washcloth. Recently wrung up with a new paint mark.
The mark was a faded blue. The blue matched the blues you used in your painting, but the mark wasn't big enough for Caitlyn to assume you were cleaning up your lines with a towel.
You spilled paint on something, but on what?
To the left of her, Caitlyn spotted the box of art supplies. A hoarder, her partner was, keeping empty paint tubes, dead brushes, and other things you use for your craft.
What Caitlyn spotted was a new lump in the box. Instead of your dead supplies lying relatively flat, there was something disturbing the colorful sea, something hiding.
"Darling," Caitlyn called out for you with a finger on her chin and her other arm supporting the elbow. "Did you run out of a lot of paint while making that piece? Your graveyard of art supplies seemed to have grown."
Both yours and Vi's gaze snapped from the painting and to Caitlyn.
The three of you sat in silence, yet the tension in the air rose.
Your gaze flickered from the box, to Vi, to the box, to Caitlyn, and then back to the box.
Before anyone could say anything, you dashed. You didn't get far, matter of fact, you got nowhere before Vi wrapped her arms around your middle to hold you back.
Caitlyn went digging through the box, detirmined. Nothing could get past her. Not even her partner who loves to paint but is too messy for their own good.
"Aha!" Caitlyn triumphed as she held up the tied plastic bag. She poked the bag, a smile growing on her face. "Interesting. It's still wet and slimy inside. A recent hiding, must I say."
"Cait, don't!" you plead, squirming and wiggling under Vi's grip. The pinkette tightened her grasp around you.
"You're not going anywhere," her voice rasped through gritted teeth. You were being a challenge with all your squirms, but Vi had no problem throwing you over her shoulder if you became too much. Besides, she was having too much fun watching you beg and plead for Caitlyn not to open the bag.
"I'm sorry, but I have to." Caitlyn's long and slender fingers toyed with the knot. She used her fingernails to pull up a piece of the thin plastic before slipping her finger inside to loosen the knot completely.
"Caitlyn, I'm telling you, do not open that bag."
Opened, she did.
The girl barely took a gander before she gasped at the bag's containment. "You're right," she said through a trembling and quiet voice. "I do not need to open this bag. This bag must remain closed."
"What?" Vi exclaimed, letting go of you. "Oh, come on! Show me what's in the bag! It isn't fair you two know what it is and I don't."
Vi marched over to Caitlyn, but the blue-haired girl held the bag over her head. "No, Violet, I mean it. We need to respect our partner's boundaries and not open this bag."
You were frozen in fear. Vi was too close to the bag for your own good. You were thankful for Caitlyn's understanding of keeping the bag away from Vi, but that didn't mean you wont be hearing a lesson in your near future.
"Bull. Shit." Vi then brought her fingers to Caitlyn's armpit and tickled her. The bluenette immediately caved with giggles. Her crinkled eyes and cute smile would usually be an adorable sight to see, but right now, the sight made you seethe with anger.
Really, Cait? Couldn't hold on for just a bit longer?
Caitlyn brought her arm down, folding it like a chicken wing to stop Vi from tickling her. "Stop!" she giggled.
Vi grinned, snatching the back from her hand. "Anything for you, princess." The pinkette opened the bag and stared at its contents.
Caitlyn slid her way over to you, a small frown on her face as she played with her hands. "I'm sorry I couldn't keep it away from her for long," she whispered.
You sighed, watching Vi's face crinkle and express many, yet unreadable, emotions. "It's fine," you whispered back. "Just promise you'll attend my funeral."
Finally, after what seemed like 30 agonizing minutes, Vi spoke. "Is this my jacket?"
You gulped. "What do you want it to be?"
Vi called you by your name, her gaze lasering on you. Her eyes were darkened with anger, her lips upturned into a scowl. "Don't play cute with me," she called you by your name again. "Is this my jacket?"
Your heart was back in your chest again, but this time, it felt like it wanted to escape. A deep lump lodged and settled itself in your throat, making it difficult to say the words your brain was telling you to say.
Your chalky palms now wet from sweat and your body buzzing with anxiety. You couldn't say anything. You wanted to, but you couldn't.
You only watched the ticking time bomb on Vi's face as her expression went from upset to vexed. Her face was red with anger, the hands gripping the bag turned into fists, and her chest rose and fell with each staggered breath.
Vi took her jacket out of the bag. She scoffed at its drenched state and brought it over to the sick. She wrung it out like you did once before with a rag. Her hands were covering where the spots were.
Much like yourself, Caitlyn couldn't say a word. The two of you watched her like deers stuck in headlights. What could one say to de-escalate the situation? Caitlyn felt that if she tried to calm Vi down, she would be brushed off and told not to speak.
Vi studied the jacket from each angle. She studied the front, she studied the back. She studied the inside and then studied the pockets. It wasn't until she draped the jacket over a forearm she saw the two obnoxious spots of primer.
"I can't believe this," Vi said quietly, only a true sign of her deep anger. "Time and time again, we tell you to wash your hands and not touch anything. It was cute the first couple of times, annoying the next, and now I'm pissed off."
This had to be worse than any lecture Caitlyn would've given you.
"This is my jacket. My favorite jacket." Vi's back was turned to you, but now she's facing you dead on. Honest, you preferred her back to you. Then you wouldn't have to see the hurt in her eyes and she wouldn't have to see the sadness in yours.
A voice in Vi's head told her to stop talking but the anger she was feeling mimicked the anger she felt when Vander died. She had no control over what she was going to say, she could feel it. She wanted to stop talking to prevent further damage, but her emotions took her whole.
"I stole this from some rando after I beat his ass. I've had this for around 2 years now and until you came along, it was unscathed."
"Vi..." Caitlyn warned.,
"Sure, there were some dirt and sweat stains here and there, but that's what gave this jacket character. It's what made this jacket more like me because even though it was dirty, grimy, and stinky, it preserved through all the shit it went through," Vi continued.
You weren't sure if you were crying. Your eyes stung like you were, but the rest of your body shut down. Vi's words were like piercing sharp arrows flying through the wind and your body was the target. You've mastered the heart of tuning out lengthy and emotional lectures thanks to your parents, but all that skill was no match for Vi's words.
"All it took. All it took was your careless thinking and some fucking paint to ruin the one thing that felt like me. Thanks for that." Vi threw the jacket into the sink and went upstairs.
She didn't bother to look you or Caitlyn in the eye.
-
It's been a few days and you and Vi haven't talked. The first few days you didn't talk because the wounds were still fresh but as the silence grew and the wounds began to heal, the problem was finding the right words to say.
You've tried to apologize for the jacket multiple times, but she wouldn't hear it. Caitlyn even took the jacket to the cleaners to get the stains out, but Vi didn't want to see it.
Every time Vi got a glimpse of you or the jacket hanging in the closet, she knew she had to apologize to you. She wanted to apologize to you, but she didn't know how. Caitlyn tried to help countless of times, but no avail.
Sleeping arrangements were worse.
Vi slept on the couch the first few nights and then after some coaxing by Caitlyn, Vi slept on the furtherest side of the bed. Typically she liked to be in the middle or you would be in the middle, but as of late, she slept on the left and you slept on the right.
Poor Caitlyn had to sleep in the middle. She hated the middle. She didn't like how warm the two of you were in the night, making her burn up. She didn't like how if she wanted to read or work in bed, she couldn't turn the nightstand lamp on. The middle was awful. She wanted her right side back.
The night of the week anniversary of the argument, you and Vi stumbled into the bedroom to find Caitlyn sitting on the edge of the bed and glaring at the two of you.
"I am not sleeping in the middle any longer," she declared. "You two are too warm, I don't have enough arm or leg room, and I can't read which means I'm restless every time I sleep!" Caitlyn stood from the bed, arms crossed over her body. "And to be fair, I've grown tired of your childish argument. You two are grown adults. Talk your shit out so we can sleep in our rightful places."
You and Vi glanced at each other.
You already said your apology. What else could you say? It wasn't like you could offer her a meal, it was too late to eat and you definitely weren't saying another apology,
Vi sighed, looking away first. She shrugged, going to the left side of the bed. Caitlyn stopped her by pushing a hand to her chest. "Nuh-uh," Caitlyn eyed her. She pointed towards your direction with her brows furrowed. Vi groaned and walked back over to you.
"Oh, well that's one way to make a person feel warm and fuzzy inside," you scoffed. Vi rolled her eyes.
"Oh, please, you mean like ruining someone's jacket?"
"It wasn't on purpose!" you exclaimed. "You know it wasn't on purpose. I understand your being upset for my clumsiness and lack of awareness when it comes to wet paint, but you can't still be mad at me for something I got fixed."'
"You didn't even fix it," Vi rolled her eyes again. "One of Caitlyn's fancy buddies did."
"And who do you think paid for that?" you scoffed at her. "It might've been a buddy of hers but I still had to pay full price for a Piltover dry cleaning service. I don't believe in waving money and prices over people's faces, but since you want to go there, that cost me two months' worth of payments and as a starving artist, that's a lot of money to recover."
Vi only shrugged as her mouth converted into some sort of frown. She didn't know you had to pay 1,200 dollars to get her jacket fixed. She could've been more grateful and showed you some gratitude for getting her jacket cleaned, but you were the one who ruined it anyway. It was your job to get the jacket cleaned.
Caitlyn sighed. "Vi, stop being stubborn and say 'thank you' and an apology."
"Why should I have to say an apology?" Vi knew why, though she didn't want to admit it aloud.
"Why?" Caitlyn scoffed. "Vi, I knew you were thick-headed but I never thought it to be this extreme." Shaking her head, Caitlyn climbed into bed. "Fine then. Don't apologize and don't patch things up. I'm tired of being the referee."
Something stirred inside Vi. It wasn't anger or contentment, but instead a sadness. Not only is she unable to patch things up with you, but now she's dragged Caitlyn into this mess. Caitlyn was the peacemaker because Vi, herself, was unable to make peace with anything.
Caitlyn didn't deserve this. You didn't either.
If Vi didn't nip this in the bud, she was going to lose the both of you. She was going to lose the only people who saw her for her and loved her regardless of her faults.
"I'm sorry," the words stumbled out of Vi like a baby bird trying to fly for the first time, "to the both of you."
Caitlyn peered up at her with a book in her hand. You, who hasn't said or done anything since the last time you spoke, met her gaze.
"Muffin, I'm sorry for lashing out on you and not being mature enough to handle this situation properly. You trying to hide the bag is on me because I should've created a space where you can come to me about anything. Even if you think it may upset me."
"It's okay--"
"It's not okay. You don't have to forgive me or say some line like, 'Oh, everyone gets angry sometimes'. No. It's not okay and I apologize for my behavior. I'm working on it." Vi put a hesitant hand on your shoulder. When you allowed her to, she smiled and pressed a kiss ot your temple.
"And, Cupcake," Vi addressed Caitlyn. Caitlyn hummed in response. "I'm sorry for roping you into this and not realizing how miserable you were while Muffin and I fought."
"Yeah," you chimed. "I'm sorry about that too. You didn't deserve any of this."
A soft smile rested upon Caitlyn's lips. She motioned the two of you over, willingly wanting to be in the middle so she could hug you both. You and Vi gathered by her side, wrapping an arm around her. "I love you too, lugs," Caitlyn said behind a laugh. "I hope we can all learn from this."
"Yeah," you said behind a grin. "I learned that Caitlyn is severely ticklish and will cave immediately after a few seconds of tickling."
"What?" Caitlyn blushed. "No, that was not the lesson here," she nervously chuckled, her blush already spreading to her ears.
Vi laughed along with you. "Yeah, actually. I accidentally found that out like a month or two ago and only used it the day of the fiasco."
You gasped. "You found out and you didn't tell me?"
"Well, I didn't know how!" Vi laughed.
"Now, hang on a minute," Caitlyn said trying to catch your attention.
"Well, now I feel left out." "Who's to say you can't tickle her now?"
"Hold on!" Caitlyn pleaded but it was too late. Your hands and fingers found the soft skin on her stomach and laughs roared out of her. Vi joined the activity, tickling some of her neck.
Even after a week of drama, the love between the three of you remained. Plus, you guys even got some giggles out of it.
WC: 3,877
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superblysubpar · 3 months
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<- part six | part eight -> | series masterlist
chapter summary: No more bets.
the song: Read Your Mind by Sabrina Carpenter
also for your listening pleasure: Girl Can't Help It by Journey, Open Your Heart by Madonna, U Got The Look by Prince, and The Lady in Red by Chris de Burgh
5,328 words | please see masterlist for gen warnings / brief descriptions of scars-previous head injury / SPICE/SMUT - really just some dirty talk and a teensiet tiniest start to oral (reader receiving) | my blog is 18+
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Hawkins, Indiana - the past
  His hand was in yours, and then it wasn’t. 
  “Well, well, well,” a voice sneered in front of you as you blinked at the boy who just dropped your hand at the sound of it. “What do we have here, Stevie?”
  A group of boys around your age leaned against a falling apart fence just outside of the ride, eyes surveying you up and down, then looking at Steve Harrington standing next to you. The leader of the pack a face full of freckles and a grin that made your stomach unsettled when he pointed it at you and took a step forward.
  “I’m Tommy, and you,” he grinned wider, like if he showed off more teeth, he’d placate you into thinking you enjoyed his company, “Well, you must be new to Hawkins. Think I’d remember a face like yours.”
  “Knock it off Hagan,” Steve grit out of his teeth, a fist clenched at his side. 
  “I’m…I’ll…” you stuttered out at the boy named Tommy, backing away and looking at Steve as you did. “It was…I’ll see you around?”
  You scrambled away from the boys as Steve took a step towards you, but Tommy’s voice rang out, making his head turn. 
  “Does Harrington have a little girlfriend? Gonna share all the juicy details with us, Stevie?” 
  “What? No!” He answered too quickly, cheeks pink, no longer looking at you. “She’s just some stupid girl, I got stuck with her on the ferris wheel…”
  You didn’t stick around to hear more, swiping at your wet cheeks with the back of your hand. 
  Glittery green and gold smeared across it, freshly smudgable after Steve Harrington held your hand until it was over. 
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A house on Cornwallis Street - Sunday
  Your hands shifted on the steering wheel, even though the car was in park. Clammy and shaking as you rubbed them on your denim shorts and took a deep breath. With your window rolled down you couldn’t help but smile at the sound of Journey coming from the backyard, the large splash that followed the shout of ‘Don’t you dare Henderson!’. Peals of laughter and the distinct smell of something grilling only added to elements encouraging you to join them. 
  But you were still sitting in your car. 
  You didn’t question it, when after the party last night, Eddie didn’t drive you home, but to the shop, dangling your keys in front of a shocked face as he proclaimed it was finally fixed.
  “But…I didn’t pay you, I thought you couldn’t…” 
  Eddie had waved you off and smiled, “I’ve been working a lot.” He dropped the keys in your lap and grinned wider, “Besides, Harringon’ll be paying me three hundred bucks tomorrow.”
  You looked down at your thighs, thinking about who’s hands had just been pushing them apart a few minutes ago as Eddie quietly probed, “Right?”
“Of course.” You nodded, telling yourself that technically you and Eddie had won the bet.
  Nobody had slept with anyone. 
  Which is what you tell yourself again as you take another deep, bravery seeking breath and step out of your car. 
  Each step on the sidewalk then up the driveway is a little easier, your chest feeling a little lighter as the laughter and music only gets louder.
  But then you see the sign. 
  The same color of the suit you have in your bag.
  The same color he told you he can’t concentrate when you wear it. 
  Bright, bold, outlining four white letters.
  SOLD. 
  You’re still looking at it when the door swings open, Robin greeting you, dripping wet from the pool and a slice of watermelon in her hand.
“Finally! I’m outnumbered, and Max is too busy canoodling with Lucas and I need more girl power!”
  She grabs your arm and pulls you into the Harrington’s foyer as a louder call of, “I told you, as soon as Lucas apologizes for what he did-“
  “And I told you, that I cannot apologize for something if I don’t know what I’m apologizing for!”
  The pair walk out of a room on one side of the foyer as they argue, Max mumbling under her breath as they exit your sights and into the den.
  “You know exactly what you did.”
  Robin rolls her eyes and points up the stairs, “This downstairs bathroom is all packed up and,” she makes quotes with her fingers around the watermelon as she recites, “ ‘It’s cleaned and if any of you idiots fuck it up, you’re dead’ , but there’s one by Steve’s room, change and come help me seek vengeance on the boys!”
  She’s gone as fast as she arrived, the silence of the house now overpowering, but at least it gives you space to take a moment to breathe and collect your thoughts.
  Steve’s moving. 
  Why didn’t he tell you?
  Your fingers glide on the wood banister as you climb the stairs, something sitting heavy in your gut from the more important question that’s gnawing at you.
  Why does it matter that he didn’t? 
  Once you find the bathroom, your fingers tug on red nylon and strings. The suit you rummaged around for in your drawer this morning pointing out the glaringly obvious answer. It matters he didn’t tell you because-
  It was a good suit, that was the only reason why it was picked for today.
  Not because of where you were wearing it.
  Not because of the boy who lived there. 
  Because he definitely still does live there, at least for the time being.
  It’s easy to spot his room when you exit the bathroom, bare feet padding across hard woods as you tug the hem of your white tshirt over your hips a little lower. Worried you shouldn’t be walking around the house so uncovered despite the fact that you’re about to be even more so outside in the pool, when you catch your reflection in the mirror above his dresser. 
  The room is in shambles, half packed you assume. Boxes open, and only half filled, litter the floor, the white plaid wallpapered walls bare, whatever hung on the nails left behind now packed away. Your fingers linger on the top of the dresser, thumb catching on his watch, a Polaroid of him and Robin, the worn brown leather of his wallet. A tight squeeze pulls at something in your chest when the slip of paper with the name ‘Brit’ and a heart shifts beneath it. 
  You can’t help but wonder if he called that number that night like he said he would. 
  Wonder if he took her out to a movie, held her hand, let everyone know that Steve Harrington was on a date with her.
  Your bag drops on his bed that’s unmade with sheets that match the walls as you wonder if she was here too. As you wonder how many other girls have been in this room, this bed. 
  A loud shout outside, just below his window makes you jump, pulling you out of the spiral of doubt you’ve fallen into and down the stairs. 
  The cream carpet is plush beneath your bare feet, the framed photos are gone, the desk as well, so nothing stands between you and the sliding glass doors out to the pool.
  It’s a different view than the last time you were here. The bright turquoise littered with even brighter inflatables and swimsuits. It’s warm, it’s light, it’s loud, as bodies splash in it and compete with the radio playing top hits for the loudest thing. Eddie’s shaking his curls out back and forth all over Robin who’s shrieking and running past him. 
  The thought of stepping outside and arriving late has you turning into the kitchen, searching for something your hands can fiddle with before joining the party. 
  Which is how Steve Harrington’s lungs finally give out, and he dies. 
  He knows he’s not actually dying, but he’s sure that the process has to feel eerily similar to this.
  He rounded the corner to find his fridge door opened, the glow of the interior light silhouetting around your curves hidden under a white shirt making his breath stutter in his chest. And as you bend at the waist, red fabric cut high and only climbing higher, reveals the perfect swell of your ass and his lungs fail to function, like one’s collapsing because he’s been shot, or he’s taking on water and they don’t know to expel the air anymore. 
  “Jesus Christ.”
  It slips out of him much like the yelp the words startle out of you, the shoot up of your body involuntary, causing your head to smack into the top of the fridge and a litany of curses to tumble out of your lips. 
  Steve rushes over as you hold your head and spin, blinking and looking dizzy.
  “Shit, shit, sorry.” He’s across the room in seconds, hands cupping your cheeks and tilting you gently while his eyes focus on your forehead, inspecting. He frowns and moves to the left slightly, towards the sink,  though he leaves one of his hands in contact with your skin. 
  The furrow of his brow deepens as he dampens a towel and you try to breathe out of your nose and in with your mouth so you don’t focus on how his normal smell is stronger with his shirt off and mixed with sunscreen and chlorine that clings to his skin. Skin that shines with a sheen from each, that’s somehow not gross, but tantalizing. So much of that skin on display revealing more freckles than you can fathom counting. Skin that looks more tan from the dark chest hair curled against it or the swim trunks that sit low on his hips. 
  Steve looks at you with raised eyebrows and you realize he’s asked a question and you absolutely didn’t hear it. 
  “Um,” you swallow, your tongue taking up too much room in your mouth, “Wh-what?”
  Steve’s lips twitch as he stands fully in front of you again, damp cloth raised as he whispers, “Something distracting you, honey?”
  Your throat has something stuck in it, and no amount of clearing it seems to fix the problem. You focus on the freckle just to the left of his lips instead of his smug eyes as you admit, “Can’t concentrate when you wear that color.”
  The reward of his low laugh and smile has you wondering if someone hand sculpted his lips and cupid’s bow. 
  “I’ll be sure to wear it every chance I get just to torture you then,” he murmurs while fingers adjust your chin into the light. Your back rests against the center island, legs sandwiched between his spread ones so he can raise the cloth to your skin, apologizing with his eyes as he tacks on, “Only fair, since you woke up and decided evil today.”
  The damp material of his swim trunks sends a shiver up your spine when it hits your thighs, and your hands grab his waist in a wince when the cloth makes contact with your still fairly fresh head wound. You’re in a staring contest with a gold chain around his neck as you fib, “This is the only swimsuit I own. Just happens to be red.”
  Steve finishes with your forehead, but two fingers curl under your chin and lift so you have to look at him as he speaks through a smirk.
  “You’re pretty cute when you lie.”
  “Come on Steve,” you whisper, fingers curling into his hips without thought, “You’re better than cheesy lines and rookie moves like this. Besides, the bet’s over. We can go back to hating each other now.”
  He shakes his head, nose bumping yours as he does and he exhales, “Never hated you.”
  Your swallow is loud as he leans closer, one hand on your hip and fingers playing with the so to speak fire of the strings holding your suit together as you offer, “Despised?”
  Another shake of his head, another step closer so your lower halves are pressed together and your eyelashes are fluttering. Your head falls back with a gasp as his mouth trails along your jaw, hot breath and wet lips against it as you stutter out, “De-detest?”
  He responds into your skin, just below your ear, something that sounds like the word, “Never.”
  His name leaves you breathlessly as his tongue lightly licks down the side of your neck, lips following in a delicate brush. 
  “Steve-”
  He hums into your collar, nose dragging around the curve of it while your hands grip his sides. “Stop saying my name like that honey, or I’m gonna get down on my knees and make you say it much,” he nips at your earlobe, “Much, louder.”
  The space between your legs throbs, thighs push even tighter together at the thought of Steve’s mouth there. 
  “Steve,” you scold, cheeks warm, body even more so in all the places it touches his. 
  “Baby,” he groans, nose knocking your cheek, “What did I just say?”
  He starts to lower himself, hands drifting so too, on the outside of your thighs. Brushing bare skin and aching to push it further, cup your ass and roll your hips against his. Especially when your fingers hold his jaw in place so he has to look at you. Only slightly distracted by how kissable your lips are as they say, “You’re moving.”
  Steve shakes his head no and you laugh again and he wonders how many more times he can make that sound come out of you. 
  “Harrington, there’s literally a sold sign in your front yard.”
  He leans in closer, unable to resist the chance to taste your lips again, to feel their lingering sting against them all day. He’s got this insane thought that he wishes you were wearing lipstick, so it could be smeared against him, marking up his mouth and neck, shit, even his dick, so everyone knows he’s yours, it’s yours.  
  “You worried I’m gonna be too far away?” He somehow manages to ask through the fog of images of your lips surrounding his cock, big eyes blinking at him as you-
  “I’m actually worried it isn’t far enough,” you swallow around the tight feeling in your chest.
  His forehead knocks yours, hands squeeze your waist and then climb higher on your curves as he tsks, “Even cuter. You gotta quit lying baby.” But he relents some of the upperhand, the thought of you being worried about him leaving making him admit, “I’m crashing at Robin’s for a bit. And we’re trying to save up for a place together.”
  “Oh,” you nod, distracted by the way his nose traces the bridge of yours, how his eyelashes flutter and the freckles on his cheeks stand out more from a morning in the sun as he does. “Th-that’s good.”
  “Yeah?” The corner of his lips rising in a smile making them brush yours. 
  “Mhm,” you hum, “So you can take Brit on that date still.”
  “Who?” He blinks, cheeks turning pink as your fingers scrape up his stomach and through his chest hair. 
  “Brit,” your eyebrows raise, “Smells like peaches, and giggles and dots her eyes with hearts? The picture perfect girl to take out around town and proudly hold hands with?”
  “Again,” Steve leans the few centimeters closer, whispering against your lips, “Who?”
  You push at his chest, as much as it pains you to do so, needing the distance from the intoxicating mouth that smells like mint and lemonade. But
Steve remains strong in his position, fingers curl around your ear and hold your neck in place gently as he speaks like each word might spook you into running.
  “I’m staying in Hawkins. I have no idea who you’re talking about. The bet is over. Can you stop being so stubborn and let me kiss you like I’ve been wanting to since we were twelve?”
  Your heart rumbles low and slow, like thunder rolling in, it cracks in your chest like lightening hit it. Every ounce of your body is buzzing, like the strike tore your body in two. One part that can’t believe you’re hearing him say it and another that wants to run even though you know it doesn’t strike the same place twice. The fear of being caught in the storm with no way out has you stalling. 
  “Ask me nicely.”
  Steve laughs, and you wonder how you never noticed how much you like making that sound bubble out of him. 
  Or how much you like the way he licks his lips before he says something important. 
  “Please,” he murmurs against your mouth, “Can I kiss you?”
  Your lips part the same time a shriek calls from the den, “Steve! The food is burning!”
  He curses under his breath, hand grabbing yours as he pulls you through the kitchen and into the den. 
  His frown only grows as the smell of burning food does when the two of you exit the sliding door. He tugs you with him across the warm pavement of the patio, the cool summer breeze has goosebumps arriving on your legs as he shouts at the curly haired boy fanning a smoking grill.
“Henderson! You had one fucking job, man! These aren’t just burning they’re-“
  “Scorched,” Lucas supplies around a cough, smacking the air with his hat. 
  “Torched,” Mike pipes up, squinting and pinching his nose closed.
  “Dead,” El delivers morosely.
  Will snorts and covers his mouth and Max mutters under her breath, “Imbeciles.” 
  But then she’s smiling at you.
  Then they’re all smiling at you, even Eddie and Robin who stand just beyond them, staring at Steve and yours intertwined hands. 
  The attention on it makes your hand feel too heavy in his and you go to slip it out, but Steve only squeezes it tighter, waving his other at them, “Take a picture, it’ll last longer. Now get lost, or I’m not making more and you can eat these disgusting things.”
  The “kids” take off and Steve turns to you, thumb swiping over the back of your hand, cheeks pink and swallowing loudly. “Um, about my really nicely asked question that was rudely-“
  “Yes.”
  The just as interrupted response stuns him as much as it does you. But when he smiles, and takes your cheeks in both of his hands, and leans in slowly, you’re sure the answer was the right one, the storm clouds dissipate, the threat of another crack gone. 
  This kiss, is like rain. 
  The good kind of rain. Slow. Steady. Steve’s lips capture yours sure, calmly, breathing out just as the pair of his mold around your top one. He holds them through an exhale against your cheek as your hands fall to his chest naturally. You can feel the thud of his heart beneath your palm as his mouth parts to do it again, deeper, stronger. Each beat against your skin the rain hitting a window until it’s so natural, so steady, it’s a simple background noise. 
  It’s only when loud whoops and whistles break the calm that you hear yours in your ears and feel his heart again, the calm disrupted. Your cheeks warm beneath his palms as he kisses you again, a chaste and over too quick peck around a smile. 
  That pesky thing is still stuck in your throat, suddenly unsure how limbs and words and human things work anymore. You stumble a step back and trip on a pool noodle when your stomach flutters with a swarm of butterflies intent on trying to escape. He catches your waist before you fall as you gesture to the water, “Alright, well, that pool’s not gonna swim in itself.”
  Steve smiles, but he narrows his eyes, squeezing at the outside of your thighs, “Honey, I thought we were done being mean to each other.”
  Your eyes blink at him, confused, butterflies constructing a roller-coaster in your stomach now as well, as you ask, “How is me swimming being mean?”
  “Kissing me like that then parading around in a little red bikini?” He swallows as his fingers play with the strings of said suit, whispering, “Mean. Incorrigible, baby.”
  This feels surreal, his hands on you, calling you baby while your friends are only a few feet away and absolutely watching. Even more so when you whisper, “Big brain word.”
  Steve taps your chin, lifting it as he asks, “What’s my prize?”
  Looking into Steve’s, Buttercup’s description of Westley’s eyes being like the sea after a storm can’t help but float through your mind. But Steve’s are a lot more like the forest after one. Wet and darkened earth soaking up all it was just given, richer in color and waiting to be explored. 
  “What do you want?” 
  Steve grins, his mouth parts, but then you’re both being drenched with water, two buckets dumped over your heads as you shout in protest against the cold. 
  Robin and Max yell something about the fire in the kitchen being too hot and they needed to put it out as they run away from you both with laughter. 
  You peel off the white shirt that clings to your body now as you mumble something about payback. Steve groans at the reveal of your body in only the suit. It’s easy to look over your shoulder as you walk away from him and ask, “Tell me later?”
  Even easier to shove a grinning Eddie towards the pool as you walk past and mumble, “Shut up.”
  He grips at your shoulder as he flails, pulling you in with him, your double splash drowning out your shriek and the beginning of Madonna’s Open Your Heart booming out of the stereo. 
  When you resurface, swiping water from your eyes and laughing, you turn to find Steve again and aren’t surprised when he’s already looking at you. Your arms rest on the ledge when you swim up to the side and mock his voice, calling up to him.
  “Take a picture, it’ll last longer!”
  He sticks his tongue out at you as you laugh and swim away, but he can’t help but wonder where he packed his Polaroid, and if he can get you alone long enough to snap several his eyes only photos. 
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  He’s still thinking it, later, as the sun inches closer to the other side of the sky, and you’re relaxed on a lounger next to Robin. 
Eyes hidden from him behind sunglasses, hands resting on your stomach, brushing back and forth over your skin as you roll your neck. 
  Prince’s U Got The Look fills the now much quieter backyard, the kids all having disappeared under the excuse of getting movie snacks and a video rental from Keith an hour ago. Robin’s voice interrupts the lyrics with, “How much you wanna bet they’re at the arcade and they aren’t coming back with the snacks?”
  You groan and sit up, “No more bets. But,” a sigh leaves you, “Yeah. I’ll go order a pizza? Steve’s got a billion contraband rental’s downstairs too. I’m sure there’s something halfway decent in there.”
  “Ha-ha,” he says dryly, watching you stretch has him sinking lower in the pool so only his eyes show. He squeezes them shut when your top slips just a smidge higher as your arms raise, the curve of each breast peeking out from the bottom and giving him a heart attack. 
  He’s certain that’s exactly what’s happening when he opens them to find you slipping your white shirt on. Only it’s not your white shirt.
  It’s his.
  Steve watches the collar linger on your nose, then slip over your chin as you smile at him and hook your thumb over your shoulder, “I’m - phone…pizza.” Stumbling over your words and shuffling towards the house quickly. 
  He waits exactly sixty seconds before he’s swimming towards the ladder and climbing out. Eddie’s voice taunts from the tube he’s floating in, with his arms behind his head, even with closed eyes he looks smug, “And where are you going?”
  “To…help. With the calling for pizza.” He towels off quickly, Robin snorts and Eddie makes a booing sound. 
  Robin calls from her lounger, “Don’t say we never did anything for you, Dingus!”
  Steve slides the glass door on their snickering, the house quiet and much cooler than the Summer outside. He glances in the kitchen, the hallway, searching for you, when he hears a creak upstairs. 
  He finds you in his room, in his shirt still, sunglasses pushed onto the top of your head as you sift through a bag and pull out a pair of denim shorts.
  “Hi,” he whispers, when you look up at him.
  “Hey,” you smile, voice quiet too, “Why are we whispering?”
  “I-“ he starts quiet and clears his throat, returning to a normal volume, “I don’t know. Guess I thought if I spoke too loud I might wake up from this great dream.”
  The grin spreads on your lips and you shake your head, “Wow. That’s bad, even for you, Steve.”
  He takes a few steps towards you as you continue to shake your head with a smile, only stopping when he asks, “Say my name again? Please?”
  Steve takes the shorts from your hands, dropping them on the ground as you murmur, gently, “Steve.”
  His tongue darts over his bottom lip before he says, “Can I tell you what I want for a prize now?”
  You’re only able to manage a small, “Mhm,” between pressed together lips as your hands sweat and your stomach burns, and your chest constricts while his fingers toy with the strings of your swimsuit bottoms. 
  He kisses you, slowly, licking out over the seam of your lips until you open for him. His hands guide you backwards gently until he’s climbing over your body on his bed and Prince’s voice fades into Chris de Burgh’s. 
  His body presses against yours, weight heavy and making your eyelids flutter as his hand cups your cheek, then traces your shoulder, the curve of your breast down to your hip. Your stomach burns with want, fingers dig into his hair as he releases your lips and kisses your chin, your chest through his shirt. He only travels lower, pushing it up and kissing your stomach, along the seam of your suit. Your legs rise on either side of his head, fingers leaving his hair to curl into his sheets that surround you and fill the space with a cedar and mint haze. 
  “St-steve,” you hiccup as he nips at the inside of your thigh. 
  He moans, palms pressing you open wider, mouth leaving a wet and hot trail of kisses and breaths up each leg. This wasn’t the plan, he wanted to take it slow, but he can’t help it anymore. He speaks into your stomach, kissing your skin between every few words. 
  “Baby, please, can I taste you?” His fingers tug on the strings of your suit and his vision blurs when you make a sound that sounds like a whine and roll your hips, searching. He’s gone fully blind as you tug on his hair again, drunk off of you without a single taste. 
  “Yeah? Gonna let me put my mouth on you?” He noses at your cunt through the suit, dragging it up against the fabric, babbling anything that comes to his mind without a filter. “That what you want, honey? To come all over my tongue?”
  Your palms press to the bed as you sit up, fingers tugging at the mess of brown waves between your thighs when his tongue licks over your suit.
  Your mouth parts in a gasp, eyes fluttering from the barely there friction, the minimal release of the tension you’ve felt since the kitchen downstairs hours ago. 
  Steve looks up at the sound and nearly comes in his shorts, the image of your dazed eyes and pouting lips, the heave of your chest under his shirt having him really thinking about where his camera is again. 
  “Oh,” his voice falls into a teasing lilt, playing with his food before he eats it, “Look at you. You’re already fucked dumb and I haven’t done a thing.”
  Your body is engulfed in flames at the taunting words, somehow turned on and irritated in the same sentence.
  A Steve Harrington special skill, you think. 
  He curses the words almost immediately after they leave him, thinking he’s pushed it too far too fast but then you’re saying his name like that again, saying the word please so softly, so sincerely, his vision goes white and scratchy like the tape of all of his abilities to think clearly was just ejected from his brain. 
  Steve sits up with a groan, backing away from the bed with the shake of his head. 
  “You’re trouble,” he rasps, breathing heavily from across the room, back against his dresser.
  “What’s wrong?” The mood shift jarring and making your legs close, your arms cross over your chest in a hug, wondering what you did.
  “This,” he says then immediately waves his hands, “No, not like that! I-“ he cuts himself off with another groan, a hand swipes through his hair only making it messier. You clench around nothing at the wild hair, the pink cheeks, the dark chest hair and tan skin as he paces.
  “I wanna-“ he starts.
  “Harrington! Quit making out up there and bring down some of what I gave you! I’m tapped and the pizza guy’s here.”
  Steve curses and he spins on his dresser, grabbing his wallet.
  His wallet. 
  Bring down some of what I gave you.
  His shoulders hunch as he swears again, “Those…brats. I swear to god I’m gonna kill them.”
  He spins to find you yanking your shorts on, muttering, “I cannot believe I fucking fell for this.”
  “Fell for…what are you talking about?” Steve steps closer and you back up quickly, waving your hand at him.
  “Save it.” 
  He watches you storm out of the room, confused, and then looks down at the wallet and quickly rushes out after you, “No, no, no, honey it’s not-“
  “Don’t,” you spin on the stairs, voice icy, “Call me honey.”
  Steve takes another step down, pleading with his eyes as Eddie, Robin, and a stranger stand in the foyer, blinking up at the two of you. “Eddie didn’t give me money for that. He…” his hand swipes through his hair again, tongue over his lip as he lowers his voice, “Can we please go somewhere else to talk about this?”
  Your arms cross and Steve sighs.
  “He gave me money…for a different bet. Sort of bet. Bet is a bad word for it.”
  Something rumbles in your chest once more, though no storm was forecasted, you should have known there was bound to be more. 
  Steve’s lips pout as he waves his hand while explaining in a ramble, “After the bet started, I told them how much I actually liked you. And they agreed to help me. And if I got you to actually give me a chance, with their help of course, Eddie’d pay for a real date and Robin would cover our shifts when we went.”
  The explanation should be sweet, but all you can focus on is that Steve didn’t just have the guts to tell you right away. That your friends all helped manipulate you and lied. You start to wonder if the power even went out, if Eddie knew Steve would be at that party, if Robin put In Your Eyes on on purpose, the diner, your car being busted - all of it. 
  What was real between you and Steve, and what was made with movie magic? 
  The storm cracks in your chest, letting the first drops fall down your cheeks. 
  “I have to get out of here.”
  The calls of your name and his steps behind you on the stairs ignored as your vision blurs. 
  Leaving a boy standing in a yard on Cornwallis street while you disappear without your shoes again. 
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BICFTF TAGLIST: don'thatemedon'thatemedon'thateme there's still two chapters left! As always, thank you for your support!
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196 notes · View notes
miragemurder · 10 months
Text
★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★
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★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★
Spotlight
Pairing: Veneer x GN Reader
Genre: Fluff
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A Oneshot/short story for all the Veneer lovers out there, since there are a few fanfics. ★ ★ ★
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Lights, Camera, Action. Mount Rageous was a bustling city with many young and talented people alike. The city was mainly known for their famous singers as every road had a sign showing off the different types of music the place was made of. Bright colors everywhere as the overall vibe gave off an 80’s and 90’s type aesthetic. It honestly was overstimulating but most people didn’t mind.
You were out partying with one of your friends when you first heard about these overnight stars. They were the talk of the town, everyone knew them, besides you.
“Who?..”
“You’re telling me that you don’t know who the Velvet and Veneer are?”
“Let me guess, artists?” You sighed. Honestly you didn’t really care to keep track of the next upcoming popstars of the week. You just wanted to enjoy the music. Everyone here was so involved in everything it seemed almost tiring, and boring.
“Only the best artists ever! Have you heard their new single Watch Me Work? It’s absolutely amazing!” Your friend shrieked, obsessed with the new stars.
You shrugged and continued on with the rest of the party, joining in and dancing along to whatever was playing. You were having a good time until eventually it became tiring. You tapped on your friend’s shoulder signifying that you were gonna head to the bathroom but in all honesty, you just needed a break.
You headed to the left side of the club, back to where the bathrooms were. There were barely any people here surprisingly. You thought there would be more since, well it’s a club there’s probably some sort of shady shit happening. It was quite calm and you quietly thanked the lord. All the music and lights could be overstimulating. You were just about to head into the bathroom when you saw a hallway with a ramp a little far right to the bathrooms.
‘Hmm… wonder where that can lead to.” You thought. You shrugged it off and turned back around to go into the bathroom. You were just about to enter as you felt someone knock into your shoulder. You turned around confused, staring at who just bumped into you.
“Oh my gosh, I am so sorry! Did I hurt you? These shoulder pads can be a bit… much.” The stranger stared at you, frantically apologizing and waving his hands around. You looked back with a wild expression. His hair was green and styled into a pompadour like mullet. He wore black pants that were oddly shaped and light pink shoes. His top was very extraordinarily as he had huge shoulder pads with a purple diamond on each side, and a smaller one on his chest.
“Oh no, you’re fine. I’m just surprised I didn’t see you there.” You laughed softly, watching his facial expression. He had a quizzical look on his face, like if you didn’t just realize who you were talking to.
“Heh.. yeah well honestly I don’t know why my sister picked this outfit, not my thing. Anyways, I got to get backstage, hope you’re enjoying the show.” He smiled and turned around, confidently strutting back out and heading up that weird hallway you were questioning earlier.
You looked at yourself in the mirror, questioning what just happened and why that guy was wearing such an outfit. You splashed your face with some water and closed your eyes, taking some time to relax before you went back out there. After a couple of minutes, you heard your phone buzz and quickly picked it up. It was a message from your friend.
“OMG! OMG! You have to hurry! Velvet and Veneer are gonna perform!” It read. You sighed, rolled your eyes, and put your phone back into your pocket.
You walked out of the bathroom and unwillingly went into the crowd of people. It was like the crowd got ten times louder, everyone excited to see the next performance. You groaned and continued to slide into the crowd, pushing around trying to get back to your friend.
“Hey I’m back, what’s going on?” You tapped your friends shoulder, making them aware of your presence.
“You made it just in time! Velvet and Veneer are gonna perform!” She squealed, holding onto your arm and jumping up and down. You pulled your arm back and nodded your head, not really caring about what your friend was talking about. Even if you didn’t care that much, you were still happy that she was happy.
The crowd quieted a little as the announcement over the speaker came on.
“Ladies and gentleman! Please welcome your stars of the show, Velvet and Veneer!”
Everyone started jumping up and down, dancing and overall going crazy. You watched as the two stars came out onto the stage when suddenly your stomach dropped. You recognized one of them.
Did you just accidentally meet Veneer?
You stood dazed and shocked while your friend was bouncing and cheering. They gave you a quick glance before they noticed your expression. Quickly, they stopped bouncing and came closer to your awkward self.
“Hey, are you alright?” They asked, putting a hand on your shoulder. They tried to comfort you but it was a little hard since the crowd of people were being pushed into you two.
“Yeah I just… remember when I went to the bathroom?” You glanced down then you turned your head to look up at them.
“Yeah of course, that was like fifteen minutes ago.” They laughed a little.
“Well, when I was waking in I kind of accidentally pumped into someone, and that someone may or may not have been.. Veneer.” You gave your friend an awkward smile, hoping that they would believe you accidentally just met a famous singer.
“Are you being serious? Like are you sure it was him?” Your friend questioned. They wanted to believe you but it sounded crazy. It’s very unlikely to accidentally walk into a celebrity.
“The guy had huge shoulder pads and green hair, I’m pretty sure it was him.” You tilted your head in a “duh” like manor. They gave you an amused look and then smiled.
“Well, what are we doing over here? We gotta get up close to see if he recognizes you!” They grabbed your hand and swiftly started pushing past people to get to the front of the stage. You were left shocked as you tried to pull your hand away from your friend’s monstrous grip.
“Wait I don’t think that’s a good idea-“ you yelled out, trying to get them to hear you.
“Of course it is! Come on!” They continued to push past the crowd of people until you guys got to the very front of the stage. You were terrified, your body was in a state of shock and panic as you watched the stars right above you. You watched as they performed their many songs, looking out into the crowd and waving at the audience.
You watched as Veneer looked down into the crowd, waving to people until he stopped and looked at you. His face faltered for a second before he got back into character. He smiled, waving at you until he did something a little unexpected.
He winked.
You felt like you just got set on fire, your face burning up to what felt like a thousand degrees. You gave him a shocked reaction, jaw dropped while you stood there motionless. He laughed and went back to looking at the rest of the crowd. You felt like you were gonna pass out.
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A while after the whole party died down, you were in a corner of the club with your friend chilling and talking about random crap from your younger years. Most of the people left while some stayed with friends to drink and chat. It was almost time for the club to close before you saw someone walk out from backstage.
“Oh hey! It’s you!” Veneer walked up to you and your friend, a huge smile across his face.
“Oh my gosh we are such huge fans, can I have a picture!” Your friend cheered, bouncing up and down with their phone in hand.
“Why of course!” He laughed. Your friend brought up their phone and took what felt like five thousand photos.
“Thank you so much!” Your friend squealed. You tried to calm her down until you saw Veneer staring at you.
“So did you like the show? Was it worth it? Did I look good” He said that last part smugly, shrugging his shoulders with a smirk on his face. You giggled and nodded your head.
“It was really good! You guys did fantastic.” You smiled. You meet this guy a couple hours ago but it felt like love at first sight, as cringe as that may be.
“Well… I know I’m technically not allowed to do this but…” he held out a piece of paper with his name and number, you stared at it in shock.
“Here’s my number, if you ever wanna talk.” He looked up at you and gave you a kind-hearted smile. You nodded and thanked him.
“Well, would you look at the time! I must get going before Velvet kills me!” He laughed, slightly worried.
“No literally, she might actually kill me. Anyways it was nice meeting you…?” He paused, giving you a questioning look.
“[______]” you said, giving him a small smile.
“Ah [_____], it was nice meeting you!” He smiled as he walked off giving you a ‘call me’ sign with his fingers. You laughed and turned back to your friend.
“I cannot believe that just happened! Oh my god congrats!” They yelled while squishing you in a huge bear hug. You hugged them back, laughing and spinning around with them like you just won the lottery.
You’ll definitely be calling him later.
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Hey guys! Hope you enjoyed this oneshot/short story I made. It was barely revised and I don’t really have a lot of experience so I hope it was decent lol (He’s a little out of character.) It was quite fun and I hope to write more in the future! Leave requests in the comments!
Part 2: Secret
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1K notes · View notes
dizscreams · 1 year
Text
“MY LOVER IS A DAY I CAN’T FORGET”
— Jack Champion ★
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PAIRING: Jack Champion x Fem!Reader
SUMMARY: Jack and you at the beachhhhh very very fluffy
A/N: I was coloring, I thought of Jack, this idea was born, I went to my room and I wrote a fic, enjoy :)
TAGS: @ourloveisgod23 @xyzstar @wenvierismycomfort @h34rtsformilli @beary-rambles @aesthetixhoe @dizzyscreams @gabbylovesreading @jakesgirll @c8rdigan @wekiamo @aqellano @brakke-dino @mbankfav @iloveneilperry @maybankfr @ashlesys-blog
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Jack and your other Scream 6 cast-mates had dragged you out for a beach day. You were laying out on a towel in the sand, soaking in the sun. While the others were playing around in the ocean. You were too busy coloring in your marine animal coloring book to notice your boyfriend running up behind you.
“Babyy, I missed you,” Jack exclaimed while laying on your back since you were on your stomach. “Jack, you’re heavy and you’re cold! Get offfff!”
He giggled and kissed your head, “No, you’ve been out in the sun all day. Come get in the water with us.” He shook his wet hair like a dog that had just been in the water. You turned over off of your stomach, causing him to move and sit down beside you. You were now sitting, facing him. “I like it here, it’s calm and peaceful. And not cold.”
He playfully rolled his eyes, “Is that your only reason for not going in the water.” You pretended to think about it for a moment, “Yes.” You gave him a sarcastic smile and he pouted. “Pleaseee, just for a few minutes!” You scoffed, “A few minutes would then turn into a few hours.” He hummed and his eyes found their way to your coloring book, “What were you coloring this time?”
“Just a whale.”
“It’s pretty.”
You nodded and watched as he put the book back in its rightful place before scooting closer to you. “It’s not that cold once you get used to it.” He examined your features for a moment and put his hand on your cheek. He rubbed his thumb across and tilted your head slightly. “Have you even put on sunscreen?”
“Obviously.”
“Really? You look like a lobster.”
“Jack!” You pushed his shoulder and he laughed while kissing your head, “I’m sorry. You look beautiful.” “Am I burnt?” “No I was just messing with you,” he said softly and that’s how you knew he was being genuine. “Thank you, can I go back to coloring now?”
“Hmm,” he put his finger on his chin and tilted his head up, “Let me think for a minute.”
“Okay, Jack.” You rolled your eyes and looked around the beach as you waited. Jack took this opportunity and grabbed your waist while standing up, almost falling over in the process. He put you over his shoulder more comfortably while you yelled, “Jack! Put me down!” You hit his back a few times and he giggled, “Nope.”
You lifted your head and looked at where he was walking to and you saw him walking closer and closer to the ocean. “If you throw me in there I’m breaking up with you.” He chuckled and tapped the back of your thigh, “I’m sure you will, sweetheart.” You heard Masons voice as clear as day which signaled that Jack was in the water now, “Hey Champion, why do you have her over your shoulder like a rag doll?”
You and Jack giggled and he uncomfortably repositioned you so he was now carrying you bridal style. “No reason!” He shouted back and you heard Devyn and Jenna laugh. Everyone knew what was about to happen but you held onto his neck for dear life. “Jack, please. Spare me.”
He pretended to throw you forward as a joke causing you to yelp. He walked farther into the water trying to find somewhere that wasn’t as shallow. “You need to just relax.” You looked at the grin on his face and shook your head, “Why are you telling me to relax as you’re about to throw-” Your sentence was cut short as Jack threw you into the water and then quickly jumped in to join you.
When you came up to the surface you splashed him and he wrapped his arms around your waist and leaned in closer to your face. “I hate you,” you said quietly. You were flustered at the close proximity, even if he was your boyfriend and this was a normal thing for him to do. He suddenly kissed you and you wasted no time in wrapping your arms around his neck. He pulled away from the kiss with a smirk, “You love me.”
You look away from him trying to hide your smile and he poked your side. You giggled and pointed towards the others, “We should probably head that way.” He nodded with a smile and took your hand, walking you both through the water. Luckily the waves weren’t very rough today. Once you made your way over there you greeted and talked with them for a bit before you leaned into Jacks side.
“You tired already baby?” You nodded and pulled away from his side. You went in like you were about to hug him but instead pushed Jack into the water causing everyone to laugh, including yourself. You tried to get out of the water as fast as you could before he could catch up to you. “Y/n! Get back here!” You could hear his laugh so at least he wasn’t upset with you.
As soon as you made it back to shore you heard the splash of his footsteps close behind you. You squealed as you felt his arms pick you up again. “Jack no!” He laughed and put you down. He kissed your head and walked with you back to your towel where all your stuff was. “Are you gonna color again?” You shook your head, “You want to go back to the hotel with me? I’m tired.” You asked looking up at him.
He looked back towards the ocean to see his cast mates playing in the water and then looked back at you, “Lets go.” He offered his hand for you to take and you gladly did. “They’re gonna kill us for leaving our stuff here for them to clean up.”
He chuckled, “Probably.”
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satorruubaby · 4 months
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—𝙱𝚎𝚊𝚌𝚑 𝚍𝚊𝚢 ࣪ 🥥⊹ ࣪ ˖ ☼
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Synopsis. You and Gojo decided to spend the day at the beach, savoring each moment. As the sky transformed into a canvas of warm colors, the two of you remind the deep love you shared for each other. Feeling the bond between you grow even stronger with each passing wave.
Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader
Content. All fluffy! Just slightly angsty in the end. Kinda suggestive? fem!reader, not spoiler free! JJK AU, established relationship, He’s love-strucked! Satoru being a cute boyfriend he is, he calls u baby tons, Satoru’s 20 and you’re 18!
W.C 1.6k
A/N. I’ve been gone for 2 months and this draft has been sitting here for like weeks by now, I was just lazy about decorating it….plus this is for ch.261:( I love u Satoru😞 IM SO SORRY IDK WHAT CAME OVER TO ME
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On a cloudy, breezy day, you and Satoru arrive at a secluded beach, well he teleported you both there.
The soft pale cream sand warm under your feet. Satoru lays out a blanket, setting up a picnic under a parasol, with a bunch snacks that were mostly his sweets, but he also packed some cute bento lunches for you.
After arranging the mini picnic, Satoru leans back, pressing his hands into the sand behind him. He watches you slowly descend down the shore but you only stop at your ankle level, you were enjoying the view infront of you, the feeling of the wet sand on your feet. Turning slowly, you catch Satoru’s gaze, filled with love and admiration.
Your sundress flutters in the breeze, and he sees that beautiful smile he adores. Oh how could he be so lucky? You looked like an angel, truly the most beautiful girl he’s seen.
————————-⋆。𖦹 °.🐚⋆❀˖°—————————
Satoru stood up to make his way to you while unbuttoning his ¥178,861, white polo to reveal his heavenly sculpted abs. Your eyes couldn’t help but betray you as you check him out
“Like what you see love?” He grinned at you, his black-tinted glasses reflecting the horizon behind you
you look away and block his face with your hand“No. Not at all..” you scoff, Satoru’s hand finds its way to your waist, and tugs you forward as he leans down to your ear “Your flushed face tells me otherwise.”
He let out a small chuckle as you made a hmpf sound, “Well, I like what I see.” He shamelessly looked you up and down, the sundress hugged your figure perfectly, and he brought you that dress to make sure it did.
Your death glare made him snap out of his thoughts and quickly placed a kiss on your lips “Baby come on, let’s go for a swim before we start eating” He then suddenly carried you bridal-style which made you gasp “W-wait! I don't wanna get wet yet!” He ignored you as he made his way down the water then dropped you once the water reached above his knee, the hair you worked hours on before leaving the apartment, got wet from the suddenness of his action
“TORU MY HAIR!!!!” You screamed at him as you chased the grinning like-cat down, the water slowing your movement so you just started splashing him with water and he did the same to you but he splashed more water than you did, and that made you want to drown his stupid face. The beautiful horizon was disrupted by you and Satoru’s play-fight.
————————-⋆。𖦹 °.🐚⋆❀˖°—————————
“Baby look,” Satoru pointed at a bunny-like slug that was on the wet rocks “It looks like you” he mumbled as his finger gently stroked the little thing “How does it look like me? It’s a slug.” You grumbled, the wet drops of your bodies meeting the wet surface of the rock “Because you look like a bunny and act like a slug, cute but sluggish.”
“How am sluggish?? You’re the one who takes long to get ready because of how infatuated you are with your Nintendo.” You poked his right cheek “Ow!… well don’t act like you don’t take hours to get your hair done Baby!” He defended with a small pout.
————————-⋆。𖦹 °.🐚⋆❀˖°—————————
The two of you settled down to eat after Satoru collected shells to receive a ‘Good job’ kiss from you and made sand castles to compete with each other (You won as Satoru whined his loss)
“Babi, does the ocean have likee… brain-eating amoeba?” Satoru muffled with a mouth full of strawberry donuts, “No Toru. Don’t even wanna imagine that right now, and stop talking with your mouth full!” You scolded but that couldn’t stop the white-haired guy from his ill manners “It doesn’t? Then where are they usually found??” Satoru perked up in interest
“Well uhh—They can be found in lakes and rivers or still waters?” Your skin shivered from the thought of deep still-like waters
“REALLY??! oh god, I just recently went to a lake for a mission, and then I was levitating and accidentally fell into the water because of how sleepy I was!!! AM I GOING TO DIE, BABY??” Satoru’s worried-sad face made you chuckle a bit. You had forgotten that when Satoru gets tired and lacks focus, it can cause his infinity to turn off. You learned this about him when he told you how Toji took advantage of his vulnerable state by attacking your poor boyfriend at his blind spot.
“No Toru you wont!.. It's very unlikely to have a brain-eating amoeba. You'll be fine, Mr. Strongest." You rolled your eyes at his worried state. "Are you sure??? I can’t die without having to marry you yet!!" He whined and complained about the thought of dying without having 5,000 kids with you and his last name being yours.
"Satoru, calm down. You won’t die! And I’m sure you're able to have 5,000 kids with me soon, if I don’t die from giving birth to 5,000 babies, that is." You continued eating the sandwich that Satoru made. You couldn't help but notice that there were no bread crusts on the edges. Satoru really did take note of your dislike of bread crust on your first date, the attentive boyfriend he is. You loved him so much.
"HUH??? NO! Okay! Fine! How about 3 babies??" You let out a giggle. "Okay. Just 3 babies." He moved forward to close the distance between you two. "Promise you’ll soon be my wife and that we’ll have 3 kids together?" Satoru had a small pout on his face that made your heart melt. "Promise." You sighed internally, not expecting the mightiest sorcerer to go all love-struck on you.
"Give me a promise kiss then." You raised an eyebrow and took his glasses off before proceeding to plant a small, quick kiss on his lips. Satoru wasn't satisfied enough with it, so he held your waist and tugged you forward, causing your chest to fall against his. His lips quickly closed the distance, leading to a heated make-out session. His long, calloused fingers stroked your hair as he hummed into the kiss. His tongue invaded your mouth, and you could taste the strawberry donut he had just eaten.
As the sun began its descent, a soft, rosy glow enveloped the ocean, casting a warm hue upon the scene. The embrace satisfied your cold, wet bodies. Your devoted Satoru persisted in showering you with affectionate kisses.
————————-⋆。𖦹 °.🐚⋆❀˖°—————————
The bonfire crackled softly in the background, it’s light flickering against the semi-dark sky. Calm waves lapped gently against the shore, providing a tranquil backdrop to the night. As you gently stroked the back of Satoru’s hair, he lay sprawled across you, his face nestled against your chest, exuding a sense of peace and contentment.
“toru—…you perv.” he hummed in response, unable to process your words, so lost was he in the soothing rhythm of your touch.
“…hmm baby?” He slowly lifted his head to gaze up at you, the flickering bonfire casting a warm glow on his pale skin. “stop face planting on my chest.” you pouted at his lazy smile “s’what babyyy…” he lays his head head down again sideways “boobies so comfy like a pillow, or better than a pillow” he mumbled as he rested his eyes once again.
You flicked his forehead, causing him to let out a soft whine. He tightened his hold on you, burying his face deeper into your chest. You sighed, realizing that you could never prevent him from doing perverted things, but then you realized that the day was spent without his glasses most of the time, so you let him have the comfort.
There were moments when Satoru was like this, too exhausted to move, a painful migraine throbbing around his eye. You came to understand this about him after he began spending nights at your place, revealing his vulnerability in those quiet, intimate times.
The exhaustion came from his life as a sorcerer. Ever since his friends left him, even his bestfriend Geto, he had been facing these missions alone, and they were relentless. As Nanami had asserted that Gojo should alone take on these missions, being the strongest, to prevent others from dying due to his perceived selfishness.
You scoffed internally. Nanami and the others didn’t fail to remind Satoru of his responsibilities, and you couldn’t help but loathe them for it. It was already enough that he lost his childhood due to being the Strongest. You loved him even before knowing about his sorcery life, and you wanted to love him more, to give him what he couldn’t have. You just wanted to hold him close and tell him that everything was going to be okay.
The night sky glittered with stars, and a comforting silence enveloped the place. Satoru had passed out on you, and you chuckled at his slightly open mouth. There were also times his drool would get on your chest. The waves lapped gently against the shore, and the fire grew smaller by the soft breeze.
Satoru appreciated and loved you. You were both his best friend and his lover. He couldn't ask for more. You were everything he yearned for, an escape from his sorcery life through moments like this with you, his beautiful, loving girlfriend.
He often wished that times like these would last forever. He just hoped that someday, once someone surpassed him, he could retire. He dreamed of buying the modern Japanese house you always wanted, putting a ring on your finger, having tons of kids running around the house, and growing old with you.
Little did he know what his future held.
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Credits for divider- daddldee on tumblr!
𝙼𝚘𝚘𝚍𝚋𝚘𝚊𝚛𝚍 🥥⊹ ࣪ ˖ ☼
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imagines--galore · 7 months
Text
||The Thread of Fate|| Part Twelve
Summary: Soulmate AU. They say the Thread of Fate connects you to your one true love. It may tangle. It may stretch. But it will never break. Wrapped around your little finger it tightens when it feels your soulmate is close and loosens when they are far. And becomes visible with the colors of your soulmate’s Nation when you finally fall in love with them.
Pairing: Zuko x OroraOC (ATLA)
Rating || Genres || Warnings: T+ Romance. Adventure.
Previous Chapters - Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven, Part Eight, Part Nine, Part Ten, Part Eleven
A/N: ...................I was not expecting this chapter to turn out the way it did.................Hope you guys enjoy! And if you wanna be added to the tag list just lemme know! Oh and do tell me your favorite scene so far!
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The walk back had been quiet. Neither teenager felt the need to say anything.
But then there was nothing to say now was there?
She had been attacked by someone who could've hurt Iroh and Zuko, and yet Orora had not said a single word. Despite her own fear, her priority had been to protect the both of them. Besides the fear hadn't been for her. The fear had been the result of her mind conjuring up the various dark outcomes that would come to play should the identity of the two Royals be discovered.
He had pushed her out of the way of an attack, taking the blow meant for her. Granted Orora could've handled herself, but with how scared she had been, and the way he had seen her trembling despite her effort not to, Zuko hadn't wanted to leave it up to chance. His main thought was that he didn't want her getting hurt.
Least of all while protecting him.
Glancing at her out of the corner of his eye, he was a little surprised to see her walking with her head slightly bent. What was she thinking, he wandered, eyes dropping briefly to the string linking them together. It hung slightly loose, though was rather short, given how their hands were only a foot or so apart.
He looked away. And not a moment later, Orora turned her head slightly to glance at him. The streets were nearly empty, given that it was late in the evening, and yet she found herself walking right next to him. A rather common, yet unconscious, occurrence since they had arrived in Ba Sing Se.
Reaching their building of residence, Orora motioned for him to go ahead. "I need to fill my satchel with fresh water." She gestured to the community well that everyone used.
He raised an eyebrow at her. "And leave you to be attacked by another crazy guy?" Though his gaze was serious, Orora could almost detect a hint of sarcasm in his tone. Playful sarcasm, she hoped.
Her eyes flashed with something akin to annoyance and.........gratitude? Was that it? Jet hadn't sneaked in a kick to his head had he?
While Zuko recalled if what he had seen was real or just the light coming from a nearby open window, Orora quickly bended fresh water into her satchel. Closing the cork she waved her arms, allowing more water to bend up from the well, enough so that she could splash her face with it.
Sighing at the feeling of the cool liquid, her body instantly relaxed. Having water touch her skin had always had a calming effect on her, and she needed to regain her composure after the plethora of emotions she had felt within a span of an hour. Tilting her head to allow the little rivulets of water to run down her face and neck, her eyes focused on the moon above. Inhaling deeply, the young girl smiled, arms hanging loosely at her side as she allowed herself to simply bask in the presence of it.
The sound of water splashing had him glancing in Orora's direction from where he had been looking around, keeping watch. His usual mask of seriousness slipped away as he watched her standing there. Her eyes were focused on the moon, so there was no chance of her catching him looking.
So he continued to gaze upon her.
After a couple of minutes, she walked back to where Zuko was standing. She didn't bother wiping her face, or even bending the water droplets from her skin as she passed him and walked up the stairs.
It was after a few steps when she realized Zuko wasn't following her. Glancing over her shoulder, a hand on the railing to keep her balance, she blinked at the Fire Nation Prince who was staring right at her.
"Aren't you coming?" She asked.
The words seemed to startle him out of whatever daydream he was in. He met her gaze, before abruptly looking away and bolting up the stairs, nearly pushing past her as he did.
Orora frowned in confusion, completely missing the obvious redness that adorned his cheeks given the embarrassment he felt at being caught staring at her so openly.
Then again, he couldn't help himself, his treacherous mind reasoned, she had looked so peaceful and calm in that moment.
Almost serenely pretty.
Shaking his head, pushing his hair back from his forehead, he stepped into their home. It was dark, a problem he remedied by lighting a couple of candles.
With his fire-bending.
An act that prompted Orora to reach out and grasp his wrist from where he had been aiming at another candle.
"What're you doing? You were nearly discovered tonight. Do you want to get caught?" She hissed right in his ear. Zuko only scowled at her. "I wouldn't be careless with my bending Orora. And I checked outside to make sure we weren't followed."
She pursed her lips, looking annoyed once more. An emotion that was a normal occurrence for the two teenagers when it came to dealing with each other. "Be that as it may, I would prefer that we not test with our luck. At least not tonight."
Stepping away from him and dropping his wrist, trying to ignore how comforting his warmth had been for the brief moments she had touched him, she quickly lit more candles. Using spark rocks this time.
Once done, she turned to Zuko, hands on her satchel.
"Take off your shirt."
Having been in the process of drinking some water from the pitcher, Zuko spluttered. Coughing, water dribbling down his chin and onto his shirt, he stared at her wide-eyed and slightly panicked.
"What?!"
Realizing just how she must've sounded, Orora shook her head vigorously, even as her cheeks tinged pink. Despite her dark complexion, the evidence of her embarrassment was still visible.
"Spirits Zuko! So that I can check your chest. Jet hit you pretty hard." She clarified, bending water and coating her hands with it. Wiping the spilled water from his chin, his face still burning, Zuko shook his head. "I'm fine. I don't need you to look at it."
He moved to walk away. "I'm going to bed."
Nostrils flaring in anger, Orora allowed her arms to snap forward, creating twin whips from the water she had meant to use to heal him. The whips wrapped around his wrists and yanked him back. "Hey! What?!" He stumbled but managed to recover his footing as Orora brought him to stand in front of her.
The firebender rounded on her, golden eyes alight with an anger that would send any other person running for the hills. But not Orora. She stared back, calm and cold. A cold anger, he would often muse to himself.
"What was that for? I told you, I don't need your help." Having dropped the whips, she bended the water back inside her satchel, never once letting her eyes stray from his furious face.
"Why do you have to be so reckless about this? About everything?" She demanded. "I'm offering to heal your injury. What if you're hurt badly? What if your injury gets worse if left untreated?"
Zuko scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest and looking away from her intense gaze. "You're only offering because you feel guilty that I got hurt pushing you out of the way."
That had to be the only reason. She didn't care about him enough to actually be worried about him.
Orora was silent for a beat, blinking at him before she huffed. "You're right. I do feel guilty." He smirked smugly.
He was right.
"But I'm also worried about you."
His mind, or maybe his heart, came to a sudden halt.
Now that he had certainly not been expecting.
Mouth slightly agape, he turned his gaze back in her direction, noting how this time, for once, she couldn't meet his gaze. His eyes found the white patch of hair. An overwhelming feeling overcame him. One that nearly compelled him to reach out and touch it. His fingers twitched at his side, and he would've done it too.
If Orora hadn't looked back up just then.
"You didn't even comprehend the situation before you decided to fight Jet. What if he had been a better fighter then you?" She asked. Though she had claimed that she was worried for him, her tone sounded angry.
A feeling he reciprocated as the scowl returned to crease his forehead. "But he wasn't. And I won. Besides, he was about to attack, Orora. If I hadn't defended myself, I would've definitely gotten hurt worse."
"We could've talked to him." She tried to reason, prompting Zuko to let out a laugh of disbelief. "Are you honestly that naive? Do you think he would've listened to you?"
She was nearly fuming with anger at his tone and his words. Condescending would be the best way to describe them both. She could even see it in his face from how close he was standing to her. Only a small step away. "Its not about being naive, Zuko. Its called avoiding a physical conflict where it can be avoided."
"We're here to build a peaceful life." She continued. "And that means not getting into physical fights with the first threat that comes our way. Fighting isn't always the answer."
Zuko glared at her before moving to turn away. "I've spent the last few years fighting Orora, and it's whats kept me alive and helped me survive." So saying, he started to walk towards their bedrooms once more. He didn't want her to be satisfied by the fact that what she said was true. Zuko was almost afraid she would be able to read his mind and see what was in his heart if she looked at him hard enough with those intense blue eyes of hers.
But Orora wasn't having it.
She was tired. Tired of the half-truths and the lies. Tired of not getting the full picture. Tired of being unable to understand him.
But what frustrated her the most? Was that she couldn't help him.
And she wanted to. So badly.
"So thats it then is it?!" She called after him, her voice raising slightly. "You're just gonna keep fighting until it gets you killed?" Her words brought him to a sudden halt, an act that prompted her to keep speaking. "You fight all the time Zuko. And not just with me or your Uncle. You fight life. You fight against what fate has planned for you in that moment. You never allow yourself to simply......be!"
She could see the tension in his shoulders before he turned to face her. "Well life hasn't been kind to me Orora, its why I fight back." He responded, his voice matching her tone. "I have to fight, because if I don't I'll only loose more pieces of myself like I have over the years."
"You'll loose yourself anyway just by fighting so much. Not to mention all the good things you'll miss in life." Silence followed her words, several moments where the both of them just stared at one another.
"You don't have to fight all the time Zuko." She said, her voice soft and gentle.
He clenched his fists and nearly bared his teeth. "Yes, I do!"
She threw her arms in the air, a breathless laugh of disbelief falling from her lips as she did. "Spirits, why do you intend to fight with me even on this?! I know you think I'm right. I can see it in your face. I've known you long enough to read you Zuko."
"Don't pretend like you know anything about me, Orora." He all but growled, stalking forward so that they were nearly nose to nose. "You know nothing."
She had to tilt her head back to look at him properly. "Alright then fine, tell me. Why do you fight all the time then? Why are you so intent on attacking anything or anyone, even if its someone who offers you kindness and love?"
"Because its who I am."
"Thats not an answer."
"Yes it is!"
"It's not and you know it. You're always giving your opinion on everything why not this huh? Why do you insist on being so stubborn? Why do you always fight back?"
"Because the last time I didn't fight back, I had my face burned off by my father!"
Silence.
A horrified silence followed his outburst.
Zuko's eyes widened in horror as his mind caught up with what he had said. And while his mind worked a mile a moment, trying to come up with something that would help him take back what he had just said, what he had just revealed, Orora's mind was sluggishly trying to process what she had just heard.
His father.
Her face paled.
The scar.
Her pale blue eyes found the marred skin widening in sheer horror.
His father had burned his face?!
She opened her mouth, looking as if she were about to say something.
But what?
Behind Orora the latch on the door pushed up, the door opened, and Iroh stepping in carrying several bowls of food on a tray. "The restaurant by the tea shop were kind enough to offer us food for the night and I could not refuse." He stopped short at the sight that greeted him.
His nephew and his pupil both in fighting stances, Orora with ice daggers clutched in either of her hands, and Zuko looking ready to throw a fireball.
Iroh's heart clenched in his chest as he took in the two children. This is what the war had turned them into. Being on guard every moment of the day, ready to defend themselves against the enemy. "You need not be so tense, the danger has passed." He tried to reassure them, and though they did drop their defensive positions, the tension in their bodies remained.
"I'm going to bed." Zuko stated, and before Iroh could even ask him about dinner the young prince had disappeared into the bedroom, closing the door behind him.
"Is he alright?" The concerned man asked, to which Orora gave a small shrug. His face settled into a concerned look. Something had happened, he sensed, between the both of them.
And it would be best if he not step in, he mused to himself as he and Orora ate in silence. Allow them to work it out between themselves, he reasoned as he watched his pupil play with her food rather then eat it.
He did notice how she put a plate on top of Zuko's bowl of food, in an effort to keep it warm.
                                          ————————–
It was well past midnight, she was sure.
And yet she couldn't sleep.
She hadn't even bothered going to bed. Instead, once Iroh had retired, she had opted on making herself some tea. Clutching the smooth clay cup, she had settled on the floor, back against the wall. She had removed her dress for the day, leaving her in a loose shirt and baggy pair of trousers. Her shoes were discarded on the floor, and she had removed the comb from her hair. At every other interval she would lift the cup to her lips to take a sip of the sweet concoction she had brewed, but other then that, she remained still.
Her mind, however, was racing faster then she had ever thought possible. And yet, none of them seemed to be making sense. She would start thinking of something, before another thought would overtake it.
The only thing all her thoughts had in common was that they were all centered around her soulmate.
A sudden thump from above had her nearly jumping out of her skin. Dropping the nearly empty cup with a small clatter, she was jumping out from the window just behind her and had swinging herself up onto the roof.
Only to stop short when she saw what, or rather who had made the noise.
Zuko stared back at her, looking just as startled as she felt. "I'm-I'm sorry. I just thought it was someone attacking again." She quickly explained, feeling a little embarrassed. Why was she so paranoid about the smallest of noises? She hadn't been this way while they were roaming the countryside.
For his part, Zuko shook his head. "Its fine." He was sitting the slightly slanted roof. His hair was mussed, as if he had been tossing in bed, and his sleep clothes were rumpled. He was wearing nearly the same style of clothing she was, though his shirt had no sleeves to them. Her curiosity got the better of her as she asked. "What're you doing up here?"
The banished prince shrugged in response. "Couldn't sleep." There was an almost resigned tone in his voice as he spoke. Orora nodded. "Yeah, me neither."
Their eyes met, a mutual understanding passing between the both of them. Finally, Zuko, being the first to look away, sighed and ran a hand over his face. "I suppose, you have some questions." Biting her lower lip, Orora gave a small shrug. "Only if you want to answer them. I don't want to force you or anything."
He shook his head. "No, I think....well....you've stayed by us for so long. You........you deserve to know." Not wanting to see her reaction to his offer, especially if it was negative, he turned away.
A small stretch of silence, one where Zuko thought that maybe she didn't want to know. Didn't want anything to do with him. Then again, who would? His own father had banished him. His mother had left him. And his sister had never liked him.
But then he felt her coming to stand next to him before settling down. She mirrored his pose, legs against the chest, arms wrapped around them, chin placed between the valley of her knees. His arms rested atop his knees though, both their gazes trained towards the skyline of Ba Seng Se.
"Did your father really...." She trailed off, shifting her head so she could look at him. For his part, Zuko didn't move his gaze, however he did nod. "He did. It was punishment, for speaking against him at a War Council."
"Kind of a harsh one don't you think?" She muttered, to which Zuko shook his head. "I deserved it." The three words slipped so easily out of his mouth that Orora literally froze from the shock of it. How could he even think he deserved to be punished so brutally? Zuko was oblivious to her inner turmoil as he continued. "I spoke against him in front of the entire War Council. It was not my place to question him or doubt his decision."
"But you're the Prince. Aren't you allowed to give your opinion?" She asked, wandering just how politics worked in the Fire Nation.
He shook his head. "Not when it goes against the Fire Lord's word."
Orora frowned. "But what if his word is wrong?" Her question had the Prince tensing up, something that she caught prompting her to ask her next question. "He was wrong wasn't he?" Had Zuko been burned because his father didn't like to be called out when he did something wrong?
"One of the Generals suggested they send new recruits as a diversion. Sacrifice them, use them as bait." A dark frown marred his forehead. "Fresh meat he called them."
A cold feeling erupted in her spine, traveling down to the very tips of her toes, and racing through her veins. "How could they do that? They were just soldiers following orders." She spoke, her voice soft with disbelief, eyes wide.
Zuko turned his head to look at her, a surprised look playing about his features. "That's exactly what I said, but it wasn't my place to speak out. I disrespected the War Council, which in turn meant I disrespected the Fire Lord. I challenged them, and a challenge in the Fire Nation means-"
"An Agni Kai."
He stopped short, giving her a surprised look. "I didn't think you would know about that." She gave a small shrug. "I used to read a lot. And that included reading about all the other Nations as well. Didn't have anything else to do at the North Pole." She admitted with a small smile. Zuko returned the smile before continuing, the curve of his lips disappearing.
"So yeah, I had to fight an Agni Kai. I had thought I would be fighting the old General who had come up with the plan. But when I faced my opponent, I found out it was my father."
Orora released a startled breath, eyes widening in horror. "Spirits. Is that when he burned you? While you were fighting him? Wait no, you said you didn't fight back against your father." She corrected herself, remembering their conversation from earlier.
He nodded. "Yeah, I didn't fight him. I could never fight my father. I begged for forgiveness, told him I always had the Nation's best interest at heart but it was no use, and well," He turned his head to look at her fully. "You see the result of it everyday."
Orora had to remind herself to breath as she allowed her gaze to land on his scar. Just because he had spoken what was right, he'd been burned, scarred for the rest of his life.
"And if that wasn't enough." Wait there was more? "He banished me from the Fire Nation. Said I had dishonored him, and the only way to regain my honor, and be welcomed home was if I found and captured the Avatar."
She frowned. "But Aang only appeared a few months ago. How long ago did your father banish you?" She asked, trying to figure it out in her head.
"Well, I was thirteen when I was banished, spent almost three years traveling the world looking for him, chased him for months up to the North Pole. Lost my ship and my crew. My sister declared us traitors to the Fire Nation and since then we've been living as fugitives." He let out a dry chuckle. "Its been a few eventful years."
Orora waved her hand. "Wait wait! Go back, I'm still stuck on the first part. You were thirteen?!"
He frowned but nodded. "Yes?"
"You were only thirteen years old when your father burned you and banished you?" She confirmed again, her voice breathless in her disbelief.
He frowned. "Whats so difficult to understand about that?"
That seemed to be the wrong thing to say, because Orora looked like she was about to tackle him. "Whats so difficult?! Whats so difficult!?" Her voice rose slightly as she moved to sit on her knees beside him. "Whats difficult for me is that I don't understand how your own father scarred you for life, before banishing you from your own home?! How could he do that?"
He blinked at her, looking a little startled at her outburst. "Didn't your father banish you too? Just because you were fighting for the right thing like I was?"
She stopped short. "Oh." Where she had been speaking so passionately before, she slumped where she sat. "Right, I forgot."
Zuko blinked at her. "How could you forget something so important?" He asked, sounding just as incredulous as he looked. She shrugged. "I mean I do remember it from time to time, but I don't let it define who I am."
She gave him a meaningful look, one that had him pursing his lips and looking away. "And at least I wasn't a kid when my father threw me out." She reasoned, to which Zuko gave a small smirk. "We're still kids Orora. I mean teenagers are considered kids right?"
Nodding, she hummed. "Thats debatable, for the both of us. I mean we've both been banished by our fathers. You were scarred. I was disinherited. You're wanted by your Nation. I nearly died. And I'm sure attempts have been made on your life." She looked at him in a questioning manner to which he gave a small nod.
Sighing Orora closed her eyes, before shrugging. "I don't think I would use the word kids to describe us Zuko." She finally stated, straightening so she was sitting facing the skyline once more.
Though this time, she sat much closer to Zuko then before. The lull in conversation allowed her to think on what she had heard so far. But the lack of mention of someone had her frowning in confusion.
"You've talked about your father, your sister and I know you have an Uncle, but what about your mother?"
She could physically feel him tense up beside her. Turning her head, she watched as an unbearably sad look overcame his features. For once, he didn't bother to hide his emotions. "She disappeared a long time ago. No one knows where. The official story is that she died, but she just....left."
Spirits, she had never heard his voice sound so broken and hopeless.
"Were you two close?" She asked, her voice soft and barely above a whisper, as if afraid any loud noise would shatter the moment. He nodded. "I.....she was.....is the only person who really knew me. I've never been that close with anyone. Not even Uncle."
There were still parts of himself that he had no intention of sharing with his Uncle, though he knew the old man was already aware of them.
"My parents weren't soulmates, so it was easy for her to leave I suppose." He added, feeling that all too familiar anguish settling in his chest whenever he would think about his mother leaving him behind too.
Something warm and soft pressed against his arm, before slowly sliding up to cover his hand. He turned his head to see Orora right beside him, her eyes trained to where her hand covered his.
"I'm sure that whatever reasons she had for leaving, it broke her heart to leave you." Earnest ice blue eyes raised to meet his amber gold hues. "I'm sure she loved you Zuko. Maybe, one day, you can go and look for her."
A blush stole across her cheeks, a nervousness overcoming her, but she continued. "And when you do, if you'd like, I can be there with you to help however I can." Zuko stared back, mouth slightly agape. He couldn't understand why she would offer to do something like that. Help him. No one had ever offered to help him voluntarily. He had always had to fight for his right to be heard, seen and, at one point, even to live.
Feeling that perhaps she had overstepped a little bit, Orora shifted her gaze to look out to the sky once more. It was beginning to change color. Dawn was approaching. "But only if you need it." She added, her grip on his hand not letting up. "I don't want to overstep any boundaries or anything."
"Why?"
That one word had her frowning in confusion as she looked back at him. "Why what?"
He had a rather adorably confused look. "Why would you want to help me?"
Orora blinked. "Oh." She pursed her lips before answering. "Because its the right thing to do."
Though her answer was spoken in a kind tone, Zuko couldn't help but feel disappointed. About what though, he had no idea. Brushing a loose tendril of hair behind her ear, Orora sighed and continued.
"And also because, somewhere during these few months, despite how we met and whatever animosity has been between the both of us, I've come to see you as a friend Zuko." Spirits, her face felt like it was on fire!
For his part Zuko wasn't any better. While her blush was subtle given her tanned skin, his was more then obvious. The sight of Zuko blushing did have an involuntary laugh falling from her lips. The two of them lapsed into silence, watching as the sky grew lighter in color, and as the first beam of sunshine appeared, Zuko felt his entire body thrum with energy at the sight of the rising sun.
"Well so long as you can tolerate the ugly scar and bad temper, I suppose you can come along." He tried to joke, though the mention of his scar had her frowning darkly.
"Its not an ugly scar Zuko." She stated firmly, moving so she could sit on her knees again. This time she held his hand in both of her own in the space between the two of them. "You got the scar because you were trying to protect innocent lives. The person who gave you the scar? They're the ones who are truly ugly Zuko." He looked like he was about to argue, but she didn't let him.
"Even if I hadn't heard this story, I would never think of your scar as ugly, because I never would've judged you on your appearance." Her gaze had not left his during her entire speech, but now it did. A kind smile played at her lips as she reached out with her other hand, to place it atop his chest, where she could feel his heart beating under her touch.
"You are a beautiful person Zuko. You've proven it so many times since the day we met at the North Pole. And no scar is going to hide your kind heart."
Zuko felt as if Orora's voice was echoing in his ears, her words sounded strange. No one had ever associated such words with him. Yet here was a girl, he had not even known a few months ago, looking at him so openly, kindly and earnestly that he felt that this was nothing but an illusion.
Clearing his throat, the young prince averted his gaze, unable to continue looking at her. "Th-thank you, Orora." It was a miracle how he was able to form just those simple words. Spirits, he was going to be permanently red in the face if she kept saying all those things to him.
Sensing that maybe she had embarrassed him enough, the young waterbender retreated her hands from his person, though neither of them missed how his hand flinched when her hand left his. Almost as if he were about to reach out and grasp it again.
"I should get down and get a few hours of sleep before we have to work." She stated, slowly standing up and brushing the front of her clothes. "See you later, Zuko." Her heart was lightened for once. She hoped that what she had said would help him somehow.
He had to say something! Anything! Anything to assure her that her words didn't fall on deaf ears, that her kindness to him wasn't something he was about to throw right back in her face. He had done that too many times, and she was right. Maybe it was time to accept the kindness people showed him from time to time.
"Orora?" He called out to the parting waterbender, trying not to recall just how warm her hand had felt enveloped in his own a few moments ago.
"Hmm?" She turned around to look at him, a smile on her lips.
One that he mirrored as he said. "I'm glad that we're friends." He admitted, prompting the girl's smile to widen even more.
"So am I Zuko."
Deep down they had both come to care for one another, and not just because they were soulmates, but because they were friends.
                                          ————————–
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