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priyajoyyy · 10 months ago

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Rough waters

Literally what is that name?

Clarisse la rue x mermaid!fem!reader

Very certain the perspectives makes sense, but may not.

It switches between what reader and what Clarisse are thinking and doing but is always in readers perspective, if parts are wrong, don’t be afraid to let me know.

Sorry about the ending I think it’s kinda shit.

Warnings:

Mentions of past trauma, protective siblings, eventually protective!Clarisse, poor writing, drowning, cannon typical violence, Clarisse isn’t toxic to reader for once 🥰🤩, implied nudity (the mermaids become human at one point and don’t really have clothing but it’s normal to them, they don’t expect any humans to actually see them and I’m not describing anything), mentions of anxiety and loneliness

Clarisse knew there were plenty of mythical creatures living in the forest and waters surrounding camp halfblood, but she had never realised the lake also habituated mermaids, and especially not pretty ones…

Clarisse hadn’t properly seen all of the creatures in the forest surrounding camp half blood drying her stay, mainly because a lot wouldn’t be very favourable to half bloods invading their space.

But she believed she at least knew of most of the other inhabitants of the camp, Chiron made sure to make all the campers aware of which to avoid and which would be keeping and eye on them and stopping them from misbehaving, so she assumed he wouldn’t miss any out.

It wasn’t till the middle of summer she learnt that mermaids lived in the camp lake, hiding away from the halfbloods and only surfacing when they knew nobody was about.

It had been hot the day she’s first seen them, she noticed someone swimming near the rocks while they were meant to be training.

Clarisses younger sister had gone to the toilet half an hour ago and hadn’t been seen since and she thought that it must be her in the waters, skiving to have fun instead of her punishment for their recent loss in capture the flag.

She stormed over towards the figure, expecting her sister to appear clearer as she got closer, only to realise it wasn’t her sister at all, and this person didn’t appear to have legs.

She watched from afar at first, listening and looking to see if she could approach any further.

She had seen you, laying by the side of the beach, your tail laid in the water while the top half of you lounged in the sun on the rock side.

Your eyes were shut, sun bathing and relaxing while what looked like your brother, sat on the rock to your side, watching over the lot of you.

Your sisters were through the bushes, chatting and dancing around, their tails now gone and replaced with legs, and carrying them through the small area of forest they dared venture in.

She watched you for a while, standing hidden behind the trees, looking at your face which rested on your hands and shifted every-once in a while, watching your tail flicker and flow around in the water.

She wasn’t sure how long she was there, observing and waiting for you to do something, but she was shaken out of her thoughts when she heard your sister shouting your name. Waking you up and telling you that they were all leaving.

“Come on y/n” your brother told you as you woke up, “we’re going back”

“I’ll stay a little longer” you responded in a mumble groggily, resting your head back down on your arms again and turning away from your siblings.

Your sister dived into the water then, swimming back up to the surface to splash you with water, laughing, “come on, you’ve done enough sunbathing for today”

You splashed your tail in the water in response, hitting her with water and causing her to swim backwards and grumble.

“I don’t want to, I’ll leave later” you responded rolling your eyes and then closing them.

“We’re not leaving you out here alone” your brother stated simply, raising his eyebrows at you as you ignored him.

“I’ll be fine, promise” you stated, before pushing yourself up and around to face him in annoyance, “I swear, I’ll be fine, I’m sitting by the water, if anyone comes by I can just swim off”

Clarisse knew then it would be a bad idea to try talk to you. But she couldn’t help but want to, she hadn’t felt this way about anyone before, especially not by just looking at them.

She thought about it, and she wondered if maybe it was because you were a mermaid, like how the Aphrodite girls could make people fall in love with them with their charmspeak, perhaps you had a natural version of that?

She had heard of sirens before, tempting people to their deaths with their voices, making people fall so deeply in love with them they loose their senses.

Perhaps you were one of those. Well perhaps not a siren, while there were some dangerous creatures when provoked in the forest, Chiron would never allow sirens to lure campers to their deaths.

But a mermaid that made people fall in love with them? She supposed that made sense.

Yes, that had to be it, it was the only reason why she felt so compelled to watch you, to have the need to speak, to you to kiss you.

“Honest, I’ll be fine” you reassured again, one of the girls in the water, rolling their eyes and finally swimming off.

“Scream if you need help” the boy said in full seriousness, causing you to laugh at his behaviour.

“Oh stop being so dramatic” your sister spoke laughing, giving you a quick grin and diving into the lake.

“I will” you responded as you turned back around to go back to resting, ignoring your brothers overprotectiveness and letting him swim off.

You knew he had reason to be worried, all of you had a distaste for humans and halfbloods, but he knew you particularly had a big fear of them.

You had good reason to be, humans could be cruel, halfbloods in particular, some of them were bitter and hateful, their parents habits reflecting on children they hardly raised.

You’d experienced this cruelty first hand, and ever since, your siblings had been more protective over you, especially when you ventured to the shores of the lake you lived in.

Of course, not all halfbloods were like this, but it didn’t make you any less cautious, hiding in the hidden parts of the shore and avoiding them like the plague.

The only time you voluntarily spent time near halfbloods was when you were trying to save them. Being the one out of your siblings that tended to save the younger children from drowning the most.

You found when they couldn’t breathe, they were much nicer to be around.

You had calmed down again on your rock, relaxing under the sun on such a nice day, you stayed still there for quite a while before you heard a noise.

Clarisse hadn’t meant to step on anything, infact she was normally quite agile.

She had deciding to leave, realising it was beyond creepy that she had been staring at you in silence for as long as she had and that her siblings would be waiting for her, but stepped on a twig as she took her first step.

You jumped up quickly, turning to look around you in fear, noticing her in the trees, frozen with a pained expression on her face.

You went to jump away, flinching as she turned to face you beginning to apologise.

“W-wait stop, I’m sorry I didn’t mean to do that” Clarisse stuttered out, she didn’t know what was wrong with her, she never stuttered.

“I swear I’m not gonna hurt you…I just saw you in the distance and decided to see who was by the lake during training.

Against your better judgement, you stayed for a moment, watching and listening to her with wide eyes.

Clarisse could tell you were scared, despite the warmth you shook, and your hands clenched together onto one rock.

“I didn’t mean to scare you” Clarisse gently told you, “my names Clarisse…what’s your name?”

“I know what your name is” you mumbled, watching the girl like a hawk.

“You do?”

“You make the children do pushups by the lake” you stated quietly like it was obvious as to why she knew of you.

She looked confused at that, how many things must you have seen and she didn’t even know you were there for.

“You were there last week too” you told her, “you screamed”

Clarisse certainly didn’t need help to work out what the girl meant, everyone in camp had heard her scream, and everyone had been receiving the brunt of her anger since her spear had been broken by the new son of Poseidon.

After a long pause, you finally told her your name, Clarisse could tell you had relaxed a little, inching back to where you had originally sat rather than the edge of the rock as far as you could get from her.

You both chatted for a while, Clarisse with lots of questions and explanations, and you with short answers that slowly got a little longer.

You opened up as the time went on, still cautious but somewhat excited to have a friend that wasn’t one of your brothers or sisters.

Eventually you both decide it was time for you to go, both needing to get back to your siblings waiting on you, but Clarisse, not wanting to never see you again after this point, asked to meet again the next day.

Neither of you told anyone about your daily meet ups, you knew your siblings wouldn’t approve, stopping you from going up to the surface for a long time.

Clarisse knew she’d never tell anyone else, word would reach everyone in camp about a family of mermaids living in the lake in a matter of hours.

She also knew you had a large fear of other people. It was clear something had happened to you, and she had a feeling it had something to do with the camper that washed up to shore last summer.

She’d not gotten specifics from you, she always tried not to push you too far but she was so curious. She just put two and two together. The boy was horrid, rude to girls and she even had a couple of her younger sisters complain to her about him in the past, he wasn’t exactly missed by anyone when they found out he had drowned.

Of course she didn’t think you had done anything to him, not intentionally at least. you didn’t seem like you could even touch a half blood without trying to swim as far as you could.

However after observing your siblings around you for only a few minutes, she got the feeling they could certainly have been apart of it.

She knew she couldn’t let any of them know about you, they’d only hurt you and then all the progress you’d both made on her fear of half bloods would be for nothing.

So they continued to meet up on the daily. Sometimes you would wait until your siblings had left to transform your tail into legs, and meet with Clarisse slightly deeper into the woods.

Other times, she’d meet you by the shore, sneaking away after dinner and before bed, even letting you teach her how to swim.

It was a perfect summer, and it certainly helped Clarisse with dealing with the arrival and quick departure of Percy Jackson. And you with your loneliness and anxiety.

Now you just had to tell your siblings…

Ending is kinda shit but I didn’t know how to end it lol, Let me know if you’d like a part 2!! Feel like I have some more ideas but I have a series in the works so may focus on that instead

Taglist:

@slaggylemon @yourmom-25s-blog

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cosmicclearwater · 1 month ago

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Give Him Time | E. Call

• ──────────────☾────────────── •

Genre: fluff Character: Embry Call x Reader Word Count: 6.5k Warnings: cursing, kissing/making out, use of Y/N Summary: Embry tries to keep his distance but gives up when he realizes that he no longer has a choice. Requested: Yes (from anon: "embry x reader he imprints on reader who just moved to forks (no relationship with bella or anyone in the books she jus moved thered with her family) and he imprints when shes at a bonfire on la push beach. he is around with a couple other pack members and he’s supposed to jus keep watch and he takes a while to build a relationship w her") Note: characters are aged up (around 20).

a/n: kinda hate this, but it's been ages since I've posted, and this has been sitting in my drafts for a while.

• ──────────────☾────────────── •

One week. I've been in Forks for one week and I've already been roped into attending some kind of late-night social gathering at a beach in La Push by a group of friends I met while working at the local grocery store in town. That would probably be exciting for most people, especially if they're new in town and know absolutely no one, but I don't see it that way. I would much rather be hiding away in my room, curled up under my weighted blanket with a good book and a hot cup of tea, not freezing my ass off at a bonfire on the beach surrounded by strangers. Despite it being late August and technically still summer, the nights are significantly cooler than the days, which aren't very hot themselves. Thankfully it's not raining out. I would have turned down the offer to come had it been anyone other than the sweet, kind-hearted Angela who'd asked. But since I didn't, I'm stuck listening to the annoying, air-headed Mike Newton go on an over-exaggerated tangent about the time got caught sleeping in his math class in high school and received detention for it.

As I try my best to be attentive, I can't help but let my eyes drift around the large group of people that surround the area. It was only supposed to be a small gathering, and that's how it started out, but as it gets later, more and more people show up. I sigh, continuing to scan the crowd until my eyes land on a small group of guys standing nearby. Just by their appearance, I know who they are. Jessica made sure to inform me prior to arriving about the "weird" reservation kids who act like they run the area and would probably show up to stand watch like guard dogs. She and her friends had a lot to say about the four guys, none of it being particularly nice. I don't see the problem, though, because they have kept to themselves the whole time. They speak when spoken to, but other than that, they keep conversation amongst themselves. I find myself intrigued by the reserved strangers.

My gaze lingers a little too long because one of them looks up and our eyes lock. Instantly, a shiver runs down my spine, a sudden rush of warmth replacing the coldness I'm feeling. Something about him draws me in and pulls me towards him, yet I can't find the will to move. He's beautiful, in a boyish kind of way, wearing khaki shorts and a black cut-off T-shirt despite the chilled weather. He's the one to break the impromptu staring contest when one of his friends nudges his side and steals his attention. I'm a little disappointed when his rich brown eyes look away. I watch for a little longer as they share a few hushed words before all of their eyes shift to me. The extra attention forces me to finally divert mine away.

"Hey," I lean closer to speak to Angela, "I'll be back. I'm gonna take a walk down the beach."

"Okay." She nods, "Do you want me to walk with you?"

"No, it's okay. I won't be gone long."

I walk along the shore, kicking rocks until I get far enough away that the loud music and shouting sound like a soft murmur in the distance. I find a washed-up log and sit down, watching the waves crash against the shore before retreating. It's quiet and peaceful. I could probably fall asleep sitting here. The sound of a stick snapping behind me ruins that thought. Turning my head away from the water and towards the forest, I come face-to-face with the handsome boy.

"You shouldn't be wandering around out here by yourself. It's not safe." He speaks as he takes a hesitant step closer to me.

"I could say the same to you."

"Why did you leave your friends?" He asks, coming to take a seat on the log next to me, making sure to leave a little space between us.

"They are hardly my friends." I laugh dryly, staring back out at the water. "I didn't even want to come."

"Then why did you?" I shrug in response, not really having a reasonable answer to give. "I could give you a ride home if you want."

"I don't even know you." I chuckle. "Didn't you just lecture me about it not being safe to wander off out here alone, and now you're offering me a ride home. Talk about stranger danger. This is literally the plot and premise of every teen slasher film."

"It was hardly a lecture. More of a piece of valuable advice." He smiles, offering his hand to shake. "I'm Embry Call."

"Y/N Y/L/N." I reply, grabbing his hand. It's unbelievably warm yet comforting.

"Now we're not strangers. Want to take me up on my offer now?" He asks. "If not, you could always go back and ask that Newton kid to tell you another story to help pass the time."

"I would rather step on a Lego than listen to another one of his stories." I scoff. "But I should let Angela know I'm leaving first."

"Let's go then." He chuckles and stands up, waiting for me to rise to my feet before leading me back to the bonfire.

• ───────────────────────────── •

The drive to my house seems to go by quickly. We make small talk here and there until the conversations eventually fizzle out completely and we fall into a comfortable silence. There's a weird tension that lingers in the air. Not a bad weird, just different. I want to know more about him but he's a little closed off. When we speak, it seems like he wants to let me in, he wants to talk to me, but something is stopping him from getting too deep. Despite that, he makes me feel at ease.

"We're here." he speaks softly, pulling me from my thoughts.

"Oh, okay. Thanks for the ride." I reply, attempting to hide my disappointment with a smile. "And for not killing me." I tack on a joke for further convincing.

"No problem." He laughs as he opens his door to get out. He comes around to my side and opens my door for me, grabbing my hand gently to help me out of the truck. "I'll wait here until you get inside."

"Okay," I nod. "Will I see you around?"

"Maybe." He shrugs.

"Goodnight, Embry."

"Goodnight, Y/N." The way my name rolls off his tongue so soft and smooth sends a gentle shiver running through me. Every thought in my brain vanishes and it's only the sound of his voice playing over and over again like a broken record.

By the time I make it up to my room, I'm smiling hard and surely sporting flushed cheeks. I look out my window to check, and there he is, still waiting like he said. I wave down at him once we make eye contact. He smiles and waves back before climbing into the truck and reversing out of the driveway.

I go about my usual nightly routine before finally settling into bed. The smile that this mysterious boy has somehow managed to plant on my face has yet to disappear. I think back over our interactions throughout the night, and although they had been small and more than likely meaningless to him, they had me giggling and kicking my feet like a little schoolgirl. Figuratively, of course. Once I manage to calm myself down, I close my eyes and begin to drift off to sleep, whispering a quick prayer that tonight was only the first and not the last time I would be seeing the handsome stranger.

• ───────────────────────────── •

"That movie was awful." I scoff, walking with the rest of the group out of the theater.

"I thought it was awesome!" Mike exclaims.

"How? There was an unnecessary amount of blood and gore that did absolutely nothing for the plot, and the graphics were horrible."

"Woah there! Didn't know we had a professional movie critic on our hands." Mike jokes, receiving laughter from the rest of the group.

I roll my eyes as they begin gushing and raving about the action movie as we walk down the street. I fall back behind the group a bit, putting a little distance between me and them, but not too much that it's noticeable. Not that I think they would notice anyway. Despite having hung out with them numerous times since the bonfire two weeks ago, my friendship with them hasn't progressed at all. I just don't feel much of a connection with any of them, other than Angela.

"Hey, Y/N!" A call of my name pulls me out of my thoughts. I look up at Angela and her friends to find the source, only to see them looking back at me, confusion written on all of their faces. "Hey!" The masculine voice calls again from behind me, a little closer this time. I turn around this time, coming face-to-face with one of the guys from the bonfire, Embry and a couple of others not far behind.

"Do I know you?" I ask.

"No, but I know you. I'm Jared Cameron." He offers me his hand to shake.

"Y/N Y/L/N." I shake his outstretched hand. The next one to introduce himself has short, curly hair and a boyish grin on his face.

"Quil Ateara. The fifth, but the greatest." He chuckles, shaking my hand. The last one steps up wearing a smug expression as he introduces himself.

"Paul Lahote." He smirks, grabbing my hand and bringing it up to his lips. However, before he can make contact with my skin, he is stopped by Embry's stern voice.

"Enough, Paul." He orders to the snickering man.

"Hi, Embry." I redirect my attention to the boy who stands a few steps behind the others.

"Hey." He replies, our gazes locking briefly before he looks away.

"We're heading to a little restaurant down the street," Jared explains. "Wanna join?"

"Oh uh-" As I try to find the words to respond to his spontaneous offer, I'm interrupted by the voice of a female, that I have come to realize I am not the biggest fan of.

"Hey, Y/N. Who are your friends?" She asks, leaving me no time to respond before turning to introduce herself. "Hi, I'm Jessica Stanley." A chorus of 'hey's and 'hello's come from the group in response.

"We're heading home if you're ready." She directs her attention to me this time.

"Okay."

"We were actually offering her to join us for dinner," Quil states, presenting the offer Jared had extended to me just a few moments ago. "If she hasn't eaten yet."

"That's so kind of you." Jessica speaks with fake enthusiasm.

"Will you?" Jared questions, eyes trained on mine.

"Sure." I nod, turning to the group I had come with. "If that's okay with all of you."

"Go ahead." Angela is the one to step up and speak, a small but noticeable smile on her face. "Text me when you get home?"

A simple nod is all she needs before she grabs Jessica's hand and guides her back over to their group.

"Let's go," Paul speaks, throwing his arm over my shoulder as if we've known each other for years, and begins to lead me away. "I'm starving."

The restaurant we end up at is a cute, family-owned Italian place. It's cozy and welcoming, much like the rowdy group of boys who invited me to it.

"You have got to try the pizza," Quil leans in from his chair beside me to show me the options on the menu. "It's amazing."

"You think so?" I ask, amused by his never-ending enthusiasm.

"I know so." He winks, flashing me a toothy grin.

"The chicken alfredo is also really good." Jared adds from his seat on the other side of the table. I take their suggestions into consideration as I browse the menu.

"Everything looks and sounds delicious," I say, a sigh of defeat passing through my lips. "I don't know what to choose."

"We could order a couple plates of pasta and a few large pizzas to share. The portions are pretty big." Jared suggests.

"That's fine with me." I nod. "I'm still kind of full from the popcorn I ate at the theater so I won't be able to finish a full meal by myself."

"Don't you worry your pretty little head," Quil taps the tip of my nose with his index finger, forcing a giggle out of me at his antics. "Whatever you don't eat, I can gladly finish for you."

"Sounds like a plan then." I smile.

Once we finalize our decisions and put in our orders, we fall into easy conversation. A majority of it is Jared, Quil, and Paul bickering about random stuff or asking me questions. Despite their endless chatter, I can't help but let my mind linger on the quiet male sitting directly to my left. Before I can gather the courage to talk to Embry, Paul grabs my attention.

"How come you hang out with that Newton kid and his friends if you can't stand them?"

"Huh?" His question throws me off a bit.

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but you didn't seem too thrilled when we saw you outside of the theater." He elaborates. "And you looked a little annoyed when that Jennifer girl butt in to our conversation."

"You mean Jessica?" I chuckle as I correct him.

"Yeah, her." He nods.

"I wouldn't say that I dislike them, necessarily." I shrug. "I just don't click with them well, I guess. Angela is cool, and Eric isn't too bad, but the others are just so...I don't know. Jessica has to always be the center of attention, and Mike is overly flirtatious and too handsy for me."

"Handsy?" Embry questions, addressing me for the first time since out intial greeting outside of the theater. "Has he touched you?"

"It's nothing bad," I assure him. "It's just little things like trying to hold my hand or mess with my hair. Just weirds me out a bit."

"He still shouldn't be trying to touch you without your permission." He grumbles. "Someone needs to put him in his place."

"It's fine." I shrug. "He's harmless, just doesn't understand boundaries." Before he can say anything else, the food arrives.

"Is there anything else I can get for you?" The waitress asks after placing all of the food on the table. A chorus of "no's" and "no thank you's" float around the table. "Okay. Just call for me if you need me." As soon as she walks away, we all dig in.

"I am stuffed!" I exclaim after taking the last bite of pasta on my plate. There's still half a dish of pasta and a full pizza left on the table, but at the rate that the boys are eating, I'm positive it will be gone soon.

"You humans and your small appetites." Quil laughs around a mouth full of pizza. His comment earns him a harsh glare from the others.

"Humans?" I laugh at his strange words. "What are you, then? A dog." The table falls quiet as the four share a look before breaking out into nervous laughter. Ignoring their weird response, I change the subject.

"So, what is school like on the reservation?" I ask.

"Boring," Jared replies. "And a lot smaller than public schools."

"What do you do for fun?"

"We spend a lot of time hanging out with our friend Sam and his fiancee, Emily, at their place. It's our home away from home." He answers.

"Or going cliff jumping." Paul adds.

"Cliff jumping?" My eyes widen as I repeat the words back to him. "Is that even safe?"

"No, but it's fun as hell." Quil chuckles. "Gives you a huge adrenaline rush. You should come with us and give it a try some time."

"Absolutely not." Embry interjects, shutting down his suggestion before I can answer for myself. "She could get seriously injured, if she doesn't die from it."

"She'll be fine." Paul jumps in. "Jacob's little leech lover did it and survived."

"Barely." Embry scoffed. "Jacob had to pull her out and perform mouth-to-mouth on her."

"Well, it's a good thing she will be with us then." Paul responds cheekily. "What do you say, Y/N? I don't mind providing a little mouth-to-mouth if necessary."

"I'll pass."

"You should come hang out on the rez, then? At Sam and Emily's place." Jared suggests.

"I don't know." I shake my head. "I don't want to intrude. You seem like a really tight-knit group."

"It's fine." He waves me off. "You'll fit right in." A smug look flickers across his face, as if he knows something that I don't.

"Maybe, but not tonight. I need to get home soon."

"Of course." Jared nods. "Let's pay the bill and then we can head out."

• ───────────────────────────── •

"Are you sure this is okay? They won't mind that I'm here?" I ask Quil as we make our way up the drive way toward Sam and Emily's house.

"Of course not." He gives me a reassuring smile. "We've told them all about you, and they are excited to meet you. Emily's happy to have another female to hang out with. Something about there being too much testosterone around here." He rolls his eyes laughing. "Word of advice though. Don't stare at Emily's face. It pisses Sam off."

"Noted." I nod as we walk up the steps.

"Honey, I'm home!" Quil shouts into the house as he throws the door open.

"Please leave." Paul deadpans.

"Hi! You must be Y/N." A woman greets warmly as she makes her way across the kitchen, making sure to smack Paul in the back of the head and telling him to be nice. "I'm Emily Young." She introduces herself as she pull me into a hug.

"Yes, I am." I nod smiling, reciprocating her hug. "Nice to meet you."

"I'm Sam Uley." A man steps up next to her, greeting me as he does. "That's Seth and Leah Clearwater," He gestures to two other unfamiliar faces sitting at the kitchen table. "And you know the rest of the hooligans."

"Hooligans?" Jared scoffs. "I'll have you know that I am a very distinguished young man." He says as he adjusts his invisible tie.

"Yeah, maybe compared to a caveman." Paul retorts, causing Jared to retaliate by intiating a wrestling match in the small kitchen.

"Enough, you two." Sam barks, trying and failing to hide his amusement at their antics.

"Come sit." Emily turns to me, gently ushering me to the only empty chair at the table, which happens to be right next to Embry.

"Hey," He greets in a quiet whisper as I take a seat.

"Hey."

"Are you okay?" He questions, a look of concern on his features.

"Yeah," I nod. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"You just seem a little tense." He answers. "And they can be a lot sometimes, even for someone like me who has spent years dealing with them."

"I'm okay," I assure him with a smile. He simply nods before turning to finish his lunch as Emily sets a plate down in front of me.

"I'm not sure if you've eaten already but I saved a plate for you." She explains. "Food doesn't last long around here with all of these men so I made sure to put some aside when I heard you were coming."

"I'm starving, actually. I haven't eaten yet today." I reply. "Thank you!"

"You haven't eaten? Like, at all?" The boy named Seth asks from his spot opposite of me.

"No." I shake my head. "I was up late last night writing a paper for my English class and started working on it again as soon as I woke up. I guess I got a little too carried away and forgot to eat anything. But hey! At least I finished my paper. Four days early at that."

"You should still make sure you're eating properly though." Embry states.

"Of course." I nod in agreement. "It's a bad habit I've been trying to kick for years. Once I get locked in on something, it's hard to step away. My mom has lectured me, like, a million times about it."

"So it happens often, is what I'm hearing." Emily steps in, her mom voice making an appearance."

"More often then it should." I respond sheepishly.

"That settles it then." She shakes her head in disbelief. "I'm now making it my personal duty to make sure you are eating three full meals a day. Can't have you getting sick on us."

"You don't have to do that." I argue.

"I know I don't have to, but we take care of our own around here. I know you're new to the group, but I already consider you one of us." She explains, her tone leaving no room fro argument.

"Okay." A blush warms my cheeks as I finally begin to dig into my food.

"Embry." Sam calls his name from where he stands by the kitchen door. "Can I talk to you for a minute?"

He responds with a nod before rising from his chair and following Sam outside. They are standing on the porch right outside the door, speaking in hushed whispers. As the conversation goes on, Embry seems to grow increasingly frustrated or angry, I assume by the expressions on his face. A few more words are shared between the two before Embry stomps off the porch and Sam returns to the kitchen, letting out a heavy sigh as he enters. The others give him a questioning look, but all he does is shake his head in response.

"What are you doing tonight?" He asks, coming to sit at the table next to Emily.

"Nothing really." I shrug. "Planned on just hanging out at home and reading a book."

"Lame!" Quil and Jared shout simultaneously.

"I'm hosting a bonfire tonight if you would like to join."

"Please do!" Emily almost begs. "You can meet the other girls as well. Kim and Rachel, Jared's and Paul's girlfriends."

"Sure," I nod. "Why not?"

"Perfect!" She smiles. "Would you like to run into town with me? I need to grab some groceries for the barbeque."

"Of course. I don't have anything else to do."

"Let me go grab my purse."

• ───────────────────────────── •

"Hey, Emily. Can I ask you something?" I ask as we walk down another aisle to grab the things she needs.

"Ask away."

"Does Embry not like me or something?" I question. "Like, did I do something wrong? Or offend him in some way?"

"Of course not." She shakes her head at my words. "Why would you think that?"

"I don't know." I shrug, nervously fidgeting with the loose threads on my sweater. "He just seems closed off when I'm around. I just thought maybe it was something I did."

"That's just Embry." She reassures me. "He's always been more of an introvert compared to the other guys."

"You sure?"

"I'm positive." She stops walking and turns to face me. "Don't read too much into it. Just give him time. He'll come around." I nod in response, choosing to trust her words and expel those negative thoughts from my head. "Now come on, we only have a few more things to grab and I'm afraid those bozos might destroy the house if they are left alone too long." She giggles as she begins walking again, me following close behind.

When we return to the house, the guys are horsing around outside, as Emily and I head to the kitchen to put everything away. Once all of the groceries are in their rightful place, she begins to prep what will be needed for dinner.

"Is there anything I can help with?"

"No, I got it, but thanks." She politely declines. "Why don't you head outside. Or you can hang out in the living room and watch some TV. Whatever you want to do."

"You sure?"

"Yep."

I begin to make my way towards the door to go outside when I notice Embry sitting on the couch by himself. I hesitate briefly before making up my mind and stepping towards the living room instead.

"Hi, Embry." I speak softly, as not to startle him.

"Hey, Y/N." He greets, glancing at me over his shoulder and then turning his attention back towards the TV.

"What're watching?"

"Nothing, really. Just flipping through channels to see if anything good is on. So far, I've found nothing." He shrugs.

"Do you mind if I join you?"

"No, I don't mind." He scoots over to make room on the couch. We fall into a tense silence as he continues to flip through channels before he finally settles on a true crime show.

"Are you excited for the bonfire?" He asks, finally breaking the silence and turning his head to look at me, our gazes interlocking.

"Yeah, actually. I am." I reply, smiling. This is the first time we've had an actual conversation together since the one we had on the night we met and I can't help but feel giddy about it.

"Good." He nods, he lifts one of his hands to tuck a loose strand of hair behind my ear. "You look beautiful, by the way."

"Oh, uh, thank you." I can feel my cheeks heat up instantly. "You do, too. Look handsome, I mean. Not beautiful. Not that you aren't beautiful, I just-" I blush harder as I stumble over my words.

"Thank you." He interrupts, chuckling softly.

Our conversation dies out as we stare into each other's eyes. However, the silence this time is much more comfortable. Without realizing it, we had begun to lean into each other. So close that our noses are almost touching.

"Can I-" Embry begins to speak but is cut off as Sam's voice carries through from the kitchen.

"Embry, come out. I need your help gathering the fire wood."

"Okay, be right there." He replies, backing away. "I'll talk to you in a bit, okay?"

"Okay. Yeah." I nod, another blush dusting my cheeks as I start to think about what would have happened if Sam hadn't come in.

Embry then gets up from his spot beside me, leaving me with a soft smile and following Sam out the door.

• ───────────────────────────── •

The bonfire burns brightly, providing some warmth against the chilly night air. I sit with the other girls, talking and laughing as the guys kick around a soccer ball off to the side. Just like Emily, Kim and Rachel are kind and inviting, making it easy to fall into comfortable conversation. Even Leah, despite her quiet nature.

"So, you and Embry, huh?" Rachel nudges my side gently with her elbow, wiggling her eyebrow suggestively.

"What about me and Embry?" I ask confused.

"Are y'all, like, a thing?" Kim is the one to ask the question.

"Oh, no. Definitely not." I shake my head, laughing at the incredulousness of the idea. "If you haven't noticed, he barely speaks to me."

"Which is kind of crazy to me because the guy can barely keep his eyes off of you." Rachel says.

"Right!" Kim exclaims. "Glad I'm not the only one who noticed."

"You're seeing things." I argue.

"But you like him though, don't you?" Leah asks.

"Would you think I'm crazy if I said yes?" I bite my lip nervously. "He. doesn't even give me the time if day. Today was the first time we've held a conversation that was longer than three words since the night we met, but I can't help but be drawn to him. Like some kind of invisible string is keeping me tied to him. I sound weird and obsessive, don't I?" I sigh, feeling embarrassed at my admission.

"Not at all." Emily smiles, providing me with some comfort. "Like I said earlier, just give him a little time."

"You should-" Before Rachel can finish what she is going to say, they sound of men arguing grabs all of our attention.

"I said back off, Paul!" Embry shouts angrily at his friend.

Paul laughs menacingly. "Oh yeah? Or what?"

Embry lets out what I can only describe as a deep growl as his body begins to shake in anger.

"Careful there, Call." He says mockingly. "Don't want to lose your cool in front of your girlfriend." Those words seem to be the final trigger, because on my next breath, Embry's clothes shred to pieces as he turns into a giant wolf.

All of the air leaves my lungs as the scene unfolds. Paul is next, shifting into a massive beast in the blink of an eye, right as Embry lunges for him. The two begin to fight, large jaws snapping at each other as they roll on the ground.

"What the actual fuck?" I whisper as I finally catch my breath.

"Leah, Emily." Sam calls. "Get her inside." As soon as the words leave his mouth, a black wolf, larger than the other two, takes the place where his once human form stood. The others soon follow, beginning to chase after the two who have now managed to tumble into the forest.

"Can someone please explain to me what the hell just happened?" I gasp out as we make our way into the living room.

"It's not really our place to say, but Sam can as soon as he gets back." Emily places a comforting yet firm hand on my shoulder, forcing me to take a seat on the couch.

"They're not gonna kill each other, are they?" The horrifying thought leaves my lips before I can stop it.

"No," Rachel shakes her head. "They'll be fine. This actually happens quite often."

"That doesn't make me feel any better." I look at her as if she is insane."

"Sam will calm them down, and then they will all return safely. Not scratch or bruise in sight." Kim explains. I nod, taking a deep breath.

"So they're werewolves?"

"We prefer the term 'Shifter'." Leah states.

"Can all of you do that?"

"Nope. Just me and the guys."

"You're the only female that can turn into a wolf?"

"The only one known." She nods.

"Okay." I nod, trying to process the new found information. "Wow! This is a lot to take in."

"You're handling it pretty well, though." Kim giggles. "I half expected you to run off screaming."

We sit waiting for about ten minutes, them answering the questions they are allowed to answer, before the door swings open. Jared, Quil, and Seth walk into the house, Sam, Paul, and Embry moments after.

"Sorry about that, Y/N." Paul laughs as he throws himself down on the floor in front of where Rachel sits.

"No problem." I respond before turning my attention towards Sam.

"I'm sure you have a few questions."

"That's the understatement of the century." Sam chuckles at my response as he begins to explain everything. Their history, abilities, what causes the first shift, what triggers every shift after, how they control it. He goes on for what feels like half an hour until he feels that he has covered everything.

"Now that that is out of the way, there is one more thing you must know, but it's best if you and Embry discuss that privately."

"Um...okay?" I turn to look at Embry, who is still standing next to the door.

"Can I give you a ride home?" He asks. "I'll explain on the way there."

"Sure." I nod, standing from the couch. "Thanks for inviting me. Despite all of the chaos, I really enjoyed spending time with you all."

"Of course, Y/N." Sam smiles gently. "You're welcome any time."

• ───────────────────────────── •

The first ten minutes of the twenty-minute drive pass in silence. Neither of us willing to break it, but eventually I speak, not being able to stand the tension anymore.

"Embry?" I call his name softly, my voice coming out as almost a whisper. "There was something you wanted to tell me."

"'Want' isn't exactly the word I would use, but I don't really have a choice." He sighs heavily. "For starters, I want to apologize. I didn't want to drag you into this. I tried to keep my distance, but my friends were hellbent on playing matchmakers. If it had been up to me, tonight wouldn't have ever happened."

"Oh." His words trigger an ache in my chest.

"It's not that there is anything wrong with you. You're great, actually. It's just that I didn't want to bring you into my world because it's too dangerous for you."

"Dangerous? How? What does any of this have to do with me?"

"That leads to my next point. There is this thing that us Shifters do. It's called imprinting." He explains as he slows the car down before pulling over to the side of the road and putting the car in park.

"Imprinting?" I ask as he turns to me, eyes locking onto mine.

"Yeah. In looser terms, it's kind of like finding our soulmate. The one person we are destined to be with. When we find our imprint, they instantly become the one thing in this world that we would do anything for. We will become anything they want or need us to be. A protector, a friend, a lover. They become the center of our whole world. The gravity that holds us to the Earth. Everything and everyone in our lives suddenly comes second to them."

"Are you saying that-"

"Yes," He nods, responding before I can finish my sentence as if he had read my mind. "That night we first met, on the beach in La Push, I imprinted on you. It's not something we can control, it just happens. We don't choose who we imprint on. The moment I looked into your eyes, my fate was sealed."

"Is that why you avoided me? Did you want it to be someone else?"

"No." He shakes his head. "I was avoiding you because bringing you into all of this is dangerous. There are other supernatural beings that exist, and just you breathing puts you in danger because of the connection we have."

"Other supernatural beings? Like what?"

"Vampires. Those are our biggest enemies and what triggered out phases."

"Vampires," I mutter his words back to him in disbelief. "Here in Forks?" He nods in response.

"So if you don't have control over the bond, what would happen if I didn't want it?" I question. "Not saying that I don't, just asking." I quickly explain.

"You could reject it, but it wouldn't be easy. For either of us. The longer we spend apart, the more it will begin to hurt. Not just emotionally but physically too. We would both grow weaker, and it would affect my shifting and other abilities."

"Wow."

"And I'm not saying that to scare you at all, just answering your question honestly."

"So what does that mean for us?"

"What do you want it to mean? Like I said, you are now my sole purpose of living. Your safety and well-being, your life, are now my greatest priority. I will be whatever you need me to be."

"Okay. So, if I wanted to pursue something romantically, would you only be doing it because you have to? Because I actually really like you. Like a lot. But I don't want to force you into anything that you don't actually want."

"I like you, too. And I'm not just saying that because of the bond. I do genuinely mean that. I know it didn't seem like it because of how I acted and how I treated you, but the more time I've spent around you, the more my feelings have grown. My feelings for you are real, they are just amplified by the connection we have."

"Okay."

"Is that want you want?" He asks. "To pursue this romantically?"

"Maybe." I shrug. "Do you?"

"I would like that." He smiles softly.

"Me too." I return with a smile of my own, subconsciously leaning closer to him. "We should probably take it slow though."

"Definitely." He responds, moving in more. Our noses brush gently as he speaks. "Would you be mad if I kissed you? Right now."

I shake my head at his question. "I think I would be more mad if you didn't"

That's all that needs to be said before he leans in the rest of the way and molds his lips softly to mine. Butterflies erupt in my stomach instantly. My body feels like it's on fire, but in a good way. His hand finds my cheek, angling me to deepen the kiss as both of mine find the nape of his neck, my fingers tangling in his hair.

Once we both run out of breath, he pulls back, pecking my lips a few more times.

"I should probably get you home." He whispers, resting his forehead against mine.

"Yeah, you probably should." I whisper back, brushing my lips against his softly. He groans softly, caving in and kissing me hard.

"Okay." He moves away to settle back into his seat. "For real, I need to get you home."

"Sorry." I blush.

"Don't apologize." He says. "I didn't mind at all. And now that I've gotten a taste of what its like to kiss you, I don't ever want to stop, but we've been sitting here for a while out in the middle of nowhere."

"You're right. Let's go."

The rest of the drive is spent with light conversation and giddy smiles shared between the two of us. He keeps my hand interlocked with his the whole time and places light pecks against the back of it every now and then. We finally make it to my house, much to my disappointment. Embry, being the gentleman he is, walks me to the door.

"I guess this is goodnight, then." He says, hands still holding mine tightly, as if he doesn't want to let go.

"I mean, it doesn't have to be." He quirks an eyebrow at the insinuation behind my words. "Do you want to come in?"

"I shouldn't." He shakes his head, releasing one of my hands so I can unlock my front door.

"But I think you should." I open the door, tugging on his hand as I step inside. I watch as he battles with whether he should decline or give in. I wait patiently as he makes his decision.

"Fuck it!" He finally says before diving in for a kiss, kicking the door closed behind us as we stumble into the house.

#twilight wolf pack #twilight wolf pack imagine #twilight wolf pack fics #embry call #embry call imagine #embry call x reader #embry call fics #jae.writes

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kitmon · 2 years ago

Text

Oh Yeah, That's Right | Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Summary: Newly graduated, you and Eddie take a trip to Lover's Lake to celebrate.

Pairing: Eddie Munson (Stranger Things, 2022) x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 9.3k

Tags: smut (18+ only), porn with a lot of plot but I promise it's worth it, drug use (weed), skinny dipping, swimming while intoxicated (don't do this, you will die), sex out in the open, Eddie is kinda a perv but that's just his way of flirting with reader, unprotected sex, Eddie refers to reader as "Pigeon" or "Pidge," it's just a nickname

Author’s Note: I've had this fic in mind since last June and omg I'm so excited to share this! It definitely is a labor of love and something that I wanted to be really good, especially since it is my first smut piece for Eddie (which is wild considering I've loved him for an entire year already) but I am very very proud and I hope that you enjoy it just as much as I do. Also, a big thanks to my bestie @queenimmadolla for beta reading and leaving me the most hilarious notes ever, I love you! And with all that said, enjoy!

The crunch of gravel under your boots is ambient bliss to your ears. Accompanied by the soft ebb and flow of the lake’s tide, the sound of untouched nature; the crickets and the cicadas, the skittering of small paws and the flustered flutter of birds and nocturnal creatures of the night frightened by the stuttering of your breath, taken by the glittering sight of Lover’s Lake at twilight, all glowing with the beams of the moon. Water striders glide across the liquid black mirror, the ripples in the water look like they carry diamonds on the crests of their waves before simmering into smaller crystals that turn fluid and slip between the gaps in the pebbles to return to their home.

Eddie cuts through the silence of your appreciation with the harsh slam of his door, causing your shoulders to tense and your head to turn to look over the hood at him, his lithe frame strutting towards you as the corner of his lips reach for the dips in his cheeks.

His voice is deep and lilting as he speaks to you, “Told you I knew a spot.”

“Lover’s Lake isn’t a ‘spot,’ anyone over 16 and horny knows about Lover’s Lake,” you retort, eyes remaining unimpressed as he sidles up beside you.

“Well, would you look at that?” He teases as he spreads his arms out and studies himself in front of you.

You giggle, pushing your fingers into his chest and sending him back a step as you ignore him, walking towards the edge of the water. Your boots give way under the clacking stones before you shift your weight, crouching down with your arm around your knees as you pick at what the tide brings in; the forgotten shell homes of gastropods, the algae that grounds itself to the heaviest rocks and sways with the movement of the water like blades of grass in the gusts of April. You submerge your hand into the water and wrap your fingers around the flattest stone you can find, the water teasing the hem of your sweater.

As Eddie’s heavy, less than subtle steps approach you from behind, you stand with a bit of effort as your unpracticed joints groan, examining the grey, marbled layers of the rock before leaning back and launching it over the water before it plops once, twice, three times before sinking on its fourth splash. Eddie whistles low and your head turns to watch him, all haughty hip-jut and sass-laced hands over sides.

“Not bad, Pidge.” He leans down and doesn’t even study hard before snatching a rock. “Not bad at all,” he mumbles before tossing it with an imperceptible flick of his wrist. The soft-edged stone sails over the water, jumping in six skips, effortlessly beating out your measly three.

“Show off,” you chastise with an unbothered smile as you stock off to where the grit of the shore is lessened by the flatness of the rocks, sitting gracefully before falling to your back to watch the unperturbed night sky glisten with smatterings of light that twinkle and wink down at you. Eddie falls beside you, grunting as he attempts to make himself comfortable over the uneven terrain. You sigh through your nose and turn to look at him.

“Now what?” You question.

He looks down the length of himself, pursing his lips as he takes a minute to inspect the journey from his chest down to his crotch, before turning to meet your eyes, a playful glint in the dark abyss of his own, “Wasn’t kidding when I said I was horny.”

“Not gonna happen,” you smile, matching his mischief as you place your arms behind your head.

He pouts in faux disappointment before brightening again, “Well, darn, then it’s a good thing I brought this to pass the time.”

He reaches his hand into the denim of his pocket, struggling against the tight fit before brandishing a crumpled joint that had been stuffed away inside. You sit up with him and laugh in your throat as you watch him clumsily try to straighten it back out. The pink muscle of his tongue peeks out past the seam of his lips as he rolls the joint over the meat of his thigh like he’s thinning out pasta. Once it’s decent enough to smoke he brings it to his lips and mumbles out around it, “Would you do me the honor?”

“Why, of course I could, Sir Dumbass-ington,” you tease with a jaunty shake of your head before reaching into your pocket, digging through your miscellaneous trinkets of gum wrappers, a pocket knife, and chapstick, silver flashing with the white light of the moon once you procure the boxy Zippo. There are vulgar engravings along the side, a relic of your father’s time in Vietnam now used to light Edward’s crinkly joint. You flip open the lighter with a satisfying clink, your faces suddenly shrouded in yellow, carving out the hollows and defining the angles of your faces as you lean it towards him. He dips the end of it into the flame, tutting at it while the stark light draws your attention to the soft slant of his nose, the whetted cut of his cheekbones, the hollow of his cupid's bow all puckered out as he sucks at the cigarette. He huffs in a good breath and, with voice strained, he declares, “Fuck, that’s some good shit,” coughing at the end of it as he hits at his chest.

“Well, don’t go hogging it all,” you laugh, reaching for the jay which he passes to you without complaint. Pinched between soft-tipped fingers, eyes closed, you sip at it and let the warmth of oncoming inebriation roam without restraint, the smooth burn of your throat oddly soothing and a relaxant that tames the tense energy within your muscles. You release it, hiccuping a puff of smoke before pushing it out past your lips where it floats up in waves of nihonga-like wisps, curling and uncurling before being swept up by the breeze where it sprints through the needles of pine trees and over the unbothered surface of the lake.

He watches the way the tendrils float past your puckered lips, puffed out in a sensual ‘o’ before they’re consumed by a stupid grin that pushes against the fat of your cheeks and causes your eyes to squint, all too endearing as the last dregs of smoke seep from where they can through the gaps of your teeth. You giggle as you pass it back to him, trying but uncaring of your failure to hide it behind grunts of fake throat clearing. He smiles at you, your incompetent subtlety comical, childish amusement infectious.

“What’s so funny?” he asks, eyeing the joint for a moment before bringing it to his lips for another deep hit.

“It’s just,” you cut yourself off with another stunted giggle, “I could be eating mushroom risotto in a clean, crimson booth, sipping on champagne while my good ol’ Papa raises his glass and nods his head at me and says,” you deepen your voice and make your features stony, squaring your shoulders and puffing your chest, “‘we’re so proud of you, sweetie’ before tipping his glass back to three ‘hip, hip, hoo-rah’s.”

As you finish, you gently take the joint from him, savoring the image of the thick appendages cradling it between deft fingers as you bring it to your mouth and inhale, your shoulders rising with the movement, gathering like a frozen rubber band before slackening as the hashish thaws you free. You simper on the exhale, jolting with a few coughs through your nose as you try to cover your smile with your hand, the other examining the unironed creases in the rolling paper, “Instead, I’m smoking a squished joint in the dark, sitting on warm-ish gravel, with you.”

You bring your legs into you, tying your ankles together with the weight of your palm in your criss-crossed position as he settles the heels of his hands back into the rocks to prop himself up. You move into his space, leaning over him as you tilt your head to reach his level and emphasize your question, “Why is that?”

His lips are barely curled in a tempered smile as he takes his turn with the doobie, rolling his lips in to lick at them before clarifying for you, “‘Cause you love me,” a breath of hemp-tainted air, “duh.”

It’s laced with boyish charm, a sort of supercilious confidence that floats along the shreds of his exhaled fumes, the jab washing over him like dribbles of water gliding down the waxy feathers of a duck’s back, flicking his head and sending the droplets flying like diving hawks back into the water. It’s the kind of breezy personality that only draws you closer, impressed by his ability to pick up on the minute insinuations between each line of dialogue, enough to know that all you could ever want is to be near him.

“Oh yeah.” It's spoken as if you really did need the reminder as you smile that dopey smile, the fuzzy, assuaged feeling of the drug settling into that saturated calm in your chest as you finish with grin-impaired words, “that’s right.”

The roach is all but a barely-there nub anymore, leached at until the brown-grey paper and bud are dispersed in speckles of crumbly ash across the lake-beach. Your muddled mind, though preoccupied with your earlier thought of Eddie’s ringed fingers, registers the minimal amount left and compels you to pick it up between index and thumb. Eddie, just as stoned as you, gives easily, the joint falling into your dainty fingers just the same as you mumble, decisively, “I get the last hit.”

Despite having the joint in your hand, you move forward, one hand bracing you as you lean over his torso. His fingers hover around yours, not protective but seemingly as a product of his dazedness. He watches you, taking in the way your lashes brush the hill of your cheek as you close them, the slow-motion way your plush lips wrap around the paper, your cheeks hollowing as you suck. The embers at the end glow a violent crimson before crumbling to the rocks where they burn out into white ash. You hold the smoke in your mouth, your throat burning with the prolonged presence of the joint’s exhaust as you turn to face Eddie, eyes half lidded and mind running on autopilot. You don’t need to ask, he already understands, parting his lips for you as you close in, tilting your head before releasing the smoke into his mouth. You can feel the heat of his face radiating against your cheeks and lips, the tip of your nose brushing along the side of his own. Your lips are less than a centimeter apart, a hair’s width away from brushing as the smoke curls through the space left between you, catching in Eddie’s mouth.

Once it all leaves you in a hot exhale, you flick the charred butt into the rocks and turn to flop onto your back, the rubble, though dense, cushions you with rounded edges and eroded stone faces, soft to the touch. You relax beside Eddie who does the same, laying back with his arms cushioning his head, having closed his mouth, exhaling the smoke through his nose like Smaug perched above his mountain of treasures.

He hums, satisfied and made to feel all warm inside, the gentle sound of your exhale accompanying him before he asks, “Wanna play a game?”

That makes you smile; he couldn’t just enjoy the silence, it had to be filled with banter or grandiose speeches or ‘games’ but you decide to bite, amused by him always.

“Depends,” you sigh, “what game?”

There’s an impish pause where, through the lapse in conversation, you can hear the smirk playing on his lips.

“Truth or strip?” He turns his head towards you, and you follow, admiring the way his smile seems so uninhibited, roguish with his insinuation. You know it’s in poor taste to tease but you go on anyway.

“Mm,” you pretend to deliberate, pursing your lips from side to side, before giving in. “Okay.”

His eyes light up with perverted hope, or more so astonishment at your agreement, mouth morphing from an awed slacken jaw to a lopsided grin. He moves to speak but you’re quick in intercepting him, ��What do I get when I win?”

It’s back to astonishment, turning to lean on his forearm and gaze down at you, his eyebrows shooting up as he releases a disbelieving chuckle, “When you win?”

“Mm-hmm.” Undeterred, you go on, trying on his haughty nature for a change, “What do I get?”

“Well, in the incredibly unlikely occurrence that you do win, I’ll…”

He trails off, huffing a breath up that rouses his bangs, looking towards the sky for an answer strung somewhere in midnight thread, spelling it out for him behind the stars. He must find one there as he turns, benign grin aimed down at you that scrambles your chest with tender feelings that you force yourself to swallow down with a subtle bob of your throat and the added issue of a suddenly dry mouth.

“I’ll buy you that Cure album you’ve been wanting since August, even though the lead singer is a whiny little—”

You press your thumb over his lips, preventing him from finishing.

“I refuse to allow anymore of this Robert Smith slander,” you protest, removing your hand to tuck it back under your head. “You’re just jealous that he’s so attractive without even having to try,” you swoon.

“Careful,” he rolls his eyes at you, teasing, “don’t want any of that lipstick to ruin that pretty face of makeup you’ve got on.” He says this while trailing his index finger over the contour of your jaw, tickling your skin before you squinch up your face and rub your cheek to your shoulder to shoo him away.

“Ya know,” you roll over with a grunt to prop your head up on your hand while you lie on your side, “there’s something sexy about a man confident enough in his masculinity to wear lipstick.”

“Got any on you right now?” He asks, leaning closer, “Wanna test that theory?” He puckers his lips up and makes towards you. You waste no time in intercepting his tirade with your palm, lips connecting with gravel-roughened skin before you push his face away.

Dismissing the way he falls back to the ground dramatically, arms spread, and tongue lolled out as if your push was enough to seriously injure him, you redirect the conversation back to the initial topic.

“Okay, truth or strip,” you remind, mostly speaking to yourself and ruminating on the raunchiness of the idea, puffing a laugh out your nose as you wonder just what may have influenced it. “Seems like someone’s been taking a few too many trips behind the velvet curtain at Family Video but I’ll humor this,” you point a finger at him, raising your brows and lowering your chin as you eye him, “you’re lucky I’m stoned enough to play along.”

You start to hum out your first question before Eddie halts you, “Woah, woah, woah! We didn’t discuss what I’d be getting if I won.”

“Well, the reason we didn’t bring it up is because that’ll never happen,” you say, cheeky grin pushing against your cheeks as you press your finger to his chest where he glances down only to be met with your pointer finger flicking up against his nose.

He wrinkles his nose before bringing his hand up to rub at it, sniffing when his thumb swipes at it, going on to insist with a nasally filter.

“Well, since you’re in a pandering mood, indulge me.”

“Okay, fine, I guess we can play pretend for a second,” you say with a minx-ish smile before flopping on your back again with an ‘oomph’ rattling up from your throat, dissolving into a hum as you play with your lips. You pull the puffy bottom one down with the tip of your finger before releasing it, the fat bouncing back into place before you speak.

“If you win, I’ll buy you a new pair of Reeboks.”

“What’s wrong with my Reeboks?” He asks incredulously, looking down the length of his body towards his scuffed, dirt-stained sneakers, the stitching all but frayed and loose, the soles uneven with wear.

“You’ve needed new shoes since March, God knows what you got up to during spring break that you fucked ‘em up so bad.”

He ignores your suggestion and offers up his own, “That just won’t do, how about, instead...”

He’s tilting his head to look down the length of your body, not lecherously though that wouldn’t be out of the question for Eddie, but almost as an excuse to hide the bashful tinge in his features.

“You let me take you out on a date? A real date. Not movie night but, like, dinner in that crimson booth you wanted with that fucking mushroom rice or whatever.”

“Risotto,” you correct him with an endeared smile.

“Risotto,” he nods.

The words don’t read as pushy, never pushy. Never entitled or expectant, just gleaming with that curious lift in the eyebrows and a hopeful shimmer in his smile. You mirror a similar girlish crinkle in the corner of your eyes, lips pulled at the edges as you speak, kind and gilded with the softest tone.

“Okay.” It’s so merciful that the vowels get swallowed by the click of the consonants.

Coming to an agreement, you sit up, shuffling a bit to sit with your knees brought up and secured with the linking of your hand over your wrist, Eddie following in the silent shift of bodies rattling grey and brown stones.

You sigh a breath through your nose that untenses your shoulders and relieves the pressure in your head a bit, bringing a lazy twitch of your lips as you ask, “Alright, who goes first?”

He flicks at a pebble on the ground, pouting out his bottom lip in thought as it skips in ‘tick, tick, ticks.’

“Rock, paper, scissors?” You nod and offer your fist, settled over the platter of your palm, Eddie doing the same before the barely audible pat of your hand against the other indicates a ‘one, two, three, shoot.’ He settles on rock, your gentle palm hovering in paper. You smile and gently drape it over his curled hand before he says, “Alright, fair and square, go ahead.”

You remove your hand as you tuck both under your bum before continuing in an unsure buzz, “Hmm, okay, the grossest place you’ve ever hooked up.”

He blows out a raspberry that trills his lips. “Easy! the men’s bathroom at The Hideout, second to last stall,” he gives easily, no hesitance, “Gotta try harder than that to win.”

It’s his turn and he squints down at the ground as he thinks before shooting his question, “Alright, most recent porn rental.”

You worry your lip, chewing at the corners and tearing at the chapped skin there. It feels too early to cave and for such an inconsequential question no less, but you know that if Eddie found out about the George Michael lookalike tape hidden between your box spring and your mattress right now, he would never, in a million years, ever let it go, so you figure you can spare a layer in favor of the never-ending humiliation you’d suffer.

You huff as you lean down to begin tugging at the laces of your boots but he tuts, “Shoes don’t count.”

You scoff, “Since when?”

“We’ll be here forever if every unimportant article of clothing counts!” He explains with his arms spread at his side, dramatics on full display.

“You got a hot date sometime soon?” You counter with a lifted brow.

“Look, I’ll take mine off too so it’s fair,” he concedes, pulling at the laces of his ruined shoes. You sigh before continuing to pull your boots off, tossing them aside. You roll your socks off as well, tucking them inside your shoes so they don’t get lost in the dark.

Your toes flex, curling and extending without being encumbered, taking a moment to embrace the feeling under the pads of your feet, savoring the warmth that emanates from the erosion-softened stones. The rocks have been baked by the rays of the midday sun, cooling now that she’s hidden behind the jagged horizon of pine trees. Your fingers tease the hem of your sweater, ticking over the threads before you grip it and pull it over your head. Your modesty remains intact, though, by the white underlayer you wear. You spit your next question out with hardly any hesitation, “Last thing you masturbated to.”

He blanches under the white light of the moon, lips splitting apart. The momentary surprise on his face is colored by the flushing of his features and the attempted diversion of his throat clearing where he points his finger and eyes you with a look that reads ‘well, just you listen here…’ before it fizzles out as he decides against it. He compresses his lips, shaking his head and sighing as he starts to shrug both his vest and his leather jacket off, laying them over the rocks, the water creeping close to one of the splayed sleeves, teasing the faded and worn-out leather. Your lips curl, impressed for having got to him.

It goes on like this for 20 minutes, invasive question after invasive question while garments continue to be strewn across the lakeside— belts undone with clinking clasps, buttons popped, shirts tossed to the side— until you’re both dressed only in your underwear. You’d think you’d both have the idea to be embarrassed being so exposed to the other but the both of you find it no different than when you go to the public pool dressed in bikini and swim shorts, though, to be fair, the fabric is much thinner than the nylon of your stringy swimwear and the way his milky skin glows under the celestial curtain of May is much different than when it burns in June.

It’s Eddie’s turn as soon as he shucks off his black jeans, pale white chest and slender legs displayed with each clumsy wiggle of his feet. After nearly tripping twice over the denim, he grabs the garment and yanks them off from where they’re tangled with his toes, aggressively attempting to chuck them away but, with all his exertion, they flop to the floor with a pitiful ‘plop.’ You snort at his exaggerated display, laughing as he sits back down, leaning over on his elbow like a French muse lazed out on a chaise sofa; sultry, alluring, calling out like a siren with the way he exhibits the entire length of his body unabashedly. His breaths are heavy— that’s what draws your attention back to the present— mixed with his shared laughter as he trains his challenging gaze on you, all suppressed titterings hidden behind loose lips, aiming to get you on the same level as him; one item left.

“Thought you were clever with that last one, hmm? Alright, what sounds do you make when you’re doing it?”

You laugh a choked, disbelieving noise at the audacity of the question, “You think you’re gonna pull a fast one on me, you perv?”

“Answer the question, why don’t you,” he implores, voice unconcerned with your accusation, that obnoxiously cocksure grin backing you into a corner.

You narrow your eyes at him, scrunching your nose in petulant defiance before you falter in a histrionic groan of peevishness, rocking back while your legs are crisscross before leaning back forward to tell him, “I’m not gonna give you the satisfaction.”

What’s supposed to be stern becomes watered down with the way a smile is twisting your attempted snarl and Eddie remains just as calm as before, eyes becoming thin with the joy he gets from seeing you like this, all frisky and playfully mad at him. Oh, and half-naked, that makes him very happy.

You sigh, giving in to his hair-brained ploy as you reach back to undo the hook of your bra, fingers gliding over scratchy lace trimming and the creamy texture of the satin as you release the bond. The underwear falls limp over your chest, no longer supported and, as Eddie watches on, eyes vacantly focusing on the expanse of silken flesh beneath your collarbones as his tongue tempts the chapped skin of his lips, you stop yourself from sliding it the rest of the way over your arms.

“Turn around,” you order, eyes stern.

“What?” He exclaims like someone has just committed a heinous wrong against him. “Come on! It’s just getting good.

“We never said anything about exposing ourselves,” you defend, maintaining your resolve. “Now turn around!” He grumbles but complies, scooting over the gravel until his back is to you and his hands are covering his eyes for good measure. He can hear the way the article flops to the floor as you toss it away, the atmospheric noise of your fidgeting and shifting is euphoric white sound to his ears as he imagines the way your ungainly arms and legs move with your undress. It’s a few more moments of shuffling before silence is restored.

“Okay,” it’s spoken with an underlying quiver, “You can look.”

He turns back to you with some awkward swiveling and finds you with your arms crossed over your chest, your knees brought up for extra coverage as your ankles cross over each other to protect his eyes from your area below. Your face is sheepish, lips twitching in anxious occupation as your eyes focus on your lacquered toenails to keep from finding his own stare.

His face morphs into, what was originally a giddied smile into a sympathetic gaze, features concerned with your sudden timidity. “We don’t have to keep playing, you know?” He tells you, more occupied with your comfort than any boyish fantasy.

“No, no, I’m okay, I swear.” You look up at him wide eyed before shaking your head to convey your fortitude. You straighten your back and take a breath to steady yourself, your once skittish expression softening as you lean closer to him and confide, “I trust you, Eddie.”

He beams at you, touched by your credence in him. “Not to mention, I totally need to smoke you in this game and crush that ego of yours.”

That amorous radiance at the center of his chest is smothered by your taunt and he rolls his eyes as he urges you to continue, “Yeah, yeah, now are you going to ask me a question or are you going to keep being a big sap?”

You giggle with your next query, “Okay, how big are you? Down there?”

He grins at the question and raises his brows, “Didn’t your mother ever tell you that curiosity killed the cat?”

You match his overdone eye roll before pressing him, “Just answer the question.”

He maintains his Cheshire-ish impression as he thinks on it before admitting, “A bit over six inches. Something like that.”

“Mmm,” you hum, a moderate expression relaxing over your features as you shoot him a level headed grin, “‘something like that?’”

“Don’t believe me?” He challenges, eyebrows shooting up in his bluff.

“Oh, I believe you,” you giggle at the tail end of your words before caving to your levity, laughing through your punchline, “believe that you’re full of shit!”

He acts mock-offended, choking on his words as he scoffs and sputters, placing a hand over his bare chest, “I have just about the right mind to lose on purpose and wipe that so-sure smile off your face.”

“Please do, that record will look absolutely lovely with the rest of my collection.”

“Hmm,” he twists his lips as he eyes you with a squinted stare, “unluckily for you, I’m of the least sound mind right now so the game’s still on, sweetheart.” It’s a dare spoken as he invades your space, so close that you can feel the heat of his words over your cheeks, his eyes darting to your lips with the endearment. Your smug exterior hardly falters as you counter, “And I still plan on winning.”

He leans back, licking the enamel of his canine as he lets his eyes rove over your nearly exposed figure before asking, “Your biggest insecurity.”

Your pleased act falls away at the question as you roll your lips in, scrunching up the side of your face in displeasure before you figure that the vulnerability of the answer is less of an expense than being fully exposed in the dead of night with your best friend.

“Maybe how much I need the attention and validation of others.” It looks like admitting that causes you physical pain as your face is contorted into all sorts of wincing motifs.

“It’s embarrassing to have to say that out loud,” you whisper into your knees as you lean forward into them, the joints obstructing your lips as you go on. “Especially to you, ‘cause, like, nothing gets to you.”

“Hey, woah,” he stops you in your tracks at the inaccurate perception of him, “Who said nothing ever gets to me?”

You cock your head at him as you send him a look that asks ‘really?’

“C’mon, Pigeon, you know me better than that,” he encourages as he gently knocks your leg with his fist, rocking you with the impact. “That whole standing on tables and dungeon master shit, it’s just a front.”

You bite your lip at the admission, suddenly feeling inadequate with your assumption.

“I mean, yeah, most of it’s like one ear out the other but when it’s something real, that’s the kinda shit that hits deep.”

“You just seem so,” you struggle for the words, twisting your hands about before you find it, “Unbothered.”

“Yeah, well, I just do that to impress you,” he laughs at the ground, watching as his pointer finger twiddles with one of his discarded rings over the lining of his jacket.

You smile at his sudden demureness, leaning forward as best as you can with your legs folded up against you to capture his cheek in your hand and lift his gaze to you. He’s got that sudden starstruck look in his eyes, where they go all big and glassy and his beautifully full lips part as he stares up at you like you’ve emerged from the sky, twinkling in moondust and star particles.

“If you shed a tear once and a while when around me, I’d be even more impressed.” You rub your thumb over the thin, discolored skin under his eye, purple and green from lack of rest. The corner of his mouth ticks up as he moves to look down again at his set of jewelry, lengthy lashes kissing the very tops of his cheeks as a warm hue spottily decorates his skin. The movement displaces your hand before you bring it back around your legs, happy with your effect on him; capable of shutting up the biggest attention whore this side of the Mississippi.

You disrupt the silence with your next question, “If you knew you were to go to sleep tonight and not wake up in the morning, what’s one thing you’d regret not saying?”

His eyes glow as they flit up to you, taking away from his fiddling before that same reticent smile takes over and you’ve stupefied him once more. He laughs a breathy sound, a bit embarrassed, before he stands up and clears his throat.

“Alright, you know the deal,” his hands are on his hips, still maintaining that underlying sass, “turn around.”

A giant grin overhauls your features, “I won?”

“Yeah, you won.” His stare is soft and enamored as he gazes down at you, looking almost delighted to have lost if it meant he was able to see that precious stretch of your lips over your teeth and the choice twinkle in your eyes. “Now turn around.”

You giggle as you tuck your head into your knees, the sound carrying, though muffled, from where you’re burrowed. You can hear the way he balances from one foot to the other while he extricates himself from his final article of clothing, the rocks under his feet clicking with his distributed weight. You shriek as you feel him shoot his boxers at you, scrambling to toss them off of you while he tells you, “Open your eyes, butthead.”

Your tee-heeing filters off into throaty huffs once you’ve gotten the offending item off before looking back at him and falling into a fit all over again. You roll onto your back once you’ve seen him: both hands cupped over his groin to shield your eyes while he fosters a sheepish look over his face, lips curled in.

You straighten, eyes squinted and smile beaming as you ask him through a mirth-induced rasp, “Can we get a little spin?” You twirl your finger with your request, leaning back on one arm while the other stays wrapped around your chest. He kisses his teeth, huffing through his nose before obliging you, shuffling on his feet to do a full round. That only serves in starting you up again, the sight of his protectively clenched ass sending you into another frenzy of uncontrolled witch-like cackles.

“Oh, this is rich,” you sigh, wiping an imaginary tear of gaiety away before you settle back into relative calmness. “Well, now that you’ve been thoroughly humiliated, what now? I’ve still got a buzz going.”

His dismayed pout is replaced by a mischievous grin as he looks out to the dock, not all that far from where you’ve planted yourselves, looking back to you with an expression that nearly worries you with how wickedly no-good it is. Before you can even make out the first syllable of your interrogation, he’s booking it, sprinting along the shoreline, twisting his ankles with the way he slides over the insecure beach front. He’s whooping and hollering, screaming ‘aye, aye, aye, aye’ as his feet clomp over the landing before he jumps off the dock in a gangly flurry of limbs, hitting the surface in a crashing splash that manipulates the water that reaches out for your form, so near the waterside.

You gasp in your throat, hurrying to your feet and chasing after him, tripping once or twice over the rocks before you’re planting yourself at the edge of the dock. Leaning over on your hands and knees, you call for him in a voice that tries to maintain still, “Eddie?”

You give him a moment to reappear, eyes flicking over the water to catch sign of him. He doesn’t respond and an unrelenting tension tightens within your stomach as you grow worried, continuing to scan the water in attempts of deciphering his figure through the murky darkness of the lake.

“Eddie!”

The water opens in front of you with his reappearance, but you barely have any time to feel relief as he leaps up, the feeling taken over by a looming dread as he grabs you by your biceps and pulls you over the edge. You squeal as you tumble to the water before the sound is swallowed whole once you’ve collided with the surface. It’s dark and near unnavigable and the only way you find the bottom is by flailing your legs, shooting yourself up once your feet are able to catch a boulder. You scramble to the surface, sputtering a choked breath between a brief coughing fit. Through the waterlogged fuzziness of your hearing, you can make out Eddie’s booming laugh. You push your sopping hair out of your eyes to regain your sight, though it’s also distorted by water droplets that cling to your lashes, and lunge at him with angry fists and a peeved growl. He’s too swift for you, though, as he snatches your wrists before they can make impact, but what you can’t do with your body you’ll do with your words.

“You ass! I thought you’d gotten hurt and– and you– urgh!” He’s still snickering at the way your cheeks puff out with your labored breathing and how your dampened hair has turned you into what resembles an unhappily drenched cat, but he tries to damper them at the sight of your flaming temper.

“I’m sorry,” he attempts to apologize through the laughter, but you have none of it as you try to pull yourself from his hold, grunting as you yank your arms away from him, but he just ensnares you as he wraps his arms around your waist to keep you nearby. He tries to reason with you, his voice falling into a softer, more understanding tone once he acknowledges your distress, “Hey, I’m sorry, I didn't mean to scare you.”

He’s still smiling, looking down at your tetchy expression while a hand emerges from the water to brush your hair away from your face, petting you before coming back to hold your cheek in his massive hand. You ease with his touch and quit your huffing, though your eyes are still shadowed by the knitting of your brows, darting all across his face, so near and framed by brown, matted strands, made ebony by the lack of light, that stick in tangled swirls across the planes of his face. His bangs drip, disturbing his eyes as he blinks to keep the water out, the droplets landing over his nose and lips.

It’s then that you register the warmth of his hand between your shoulder blades, the heat of his sturdy chest against the plushness of your breasts, nipples pert and skin pebbled from the chill that ran through you from being dunked under. Even further, below that, where you’re still covered by now sopping cotton, you can feel the thick prod of something neat the junction where your vulva meets your thigh and your heart stutters, breath hitching and, suddenly, all you can do is look at Eddie with the same desperate expression he's giving you. His lips are parted, eyes clouded with lust as you take in the clumped length of his eyelashes that flutter with troubling water, the darkness of his brown irises, consumed by want and arousal, the beautiful slope of his nose as it catches the light of the moon, and the glossy plump pink of his lips that draws you closer. It’s all you can do to lean in at the same time he does and press your lips against his and, fuck, if this isn’t what they talk about in John Hughes movies then you don’t know what is.

It just feels… right. Like the final piece of a puzzle clicking into place or the final cassette needed to complete your favorite artist’s discography sliding against all the others on the shelf, leaving no gaps, slotting so perfectly together. You hum into his mouth, dragging your hands up to wrap around his neck, pulling away, not to exchange any words but to tilt your heads to the other side, deepening the smush of your lips. He can hardly contain his yearning as he does his best to bring himself as close to you as possible, nose digging into the softness of your cheek, teeth clipping the gummy flesh of your lips. His tongue begs your approval as it glides against the seam of your lips and you waste no time in allowing him entry, your muscles meeting in the middle, sliding against each other as you taste the herbal tang of weed on him though you’re unsure if there's any delineation between your taste and his as you suck at his bottom lip.

Eddie detaches from the mess of your kiss, saliva stringing between the two of you before it breaks, falling into the mix of water. He connects to the height of your cheek, placing a romantic kiss there that lasts what feels like forever as you sigh, closing your eyes as you take the wrist of the hand that he uses to hold you like you’re the most precious thing he’s ever been lucky enough to touch. He starts trailing sloppy, open-mouthed kisses down your jaw and neck, nipping at the delicate skin occasionally between his love-pecks, laving his tongue over them when you shiver against him.

“Eddie,” you keen in a needy cry, the syllables soft and aching as he holds you to him tight, never letting you dip below the surface as his fingers dimple your skin with his relentless grip as he grows excited. He separates from where he was lavishing your skin in kisses and soothing licks to mutter, “Fuck, I’ve wanted you for so long.” It sounds lost, like he’s not speaking entirely to you, almost talking to himself, like he can hardly believe he’s got you, right here, wanting him back.

“Eddie.” You draw his attention as you thread your fingers into his dripping head of hair, begging, “I need you, Eddie.”

“Fuck, I got you, Pidge,” he pacifies, connecting your lips again, murmuring into your mouth, “‘M always gonna take care of you.”

You cry against him as his hands drift lower to your thighs where he urges you up, hiking your body higher and dragging you against his chest as he carries you, beginning to find purchase on the algae-slick rocks to bring the two of you to shore. He lays you down over his jacket and vest, supporting your head as he rests you there, protecting your back from the gravel, unconcerned with the safety of the treated hide as your more than damp skin connects with the lining and soaks it through.

He’s clumsy, all adolescent vigor and enthusiasm, swallowing every sound you give him, complimenting every curve of your body with the hollow of his palm, tracing the contours of your figure with the calloused pads of his fingers. You’re no better, dragging him closer by the roots of his mane, scratching along the muscle and bone of his back, breathing wanton noises and arching into the divots of his form. When he leaves your mouth, you breathily whimper, feeling his amused chuckle rumble against the tender skin of your neck as he pays the planes of your body all the attention they could ever hope for.

He licks the protrusion of your clavicle, kisses the notch between the bones before lifting himself with his arms and takes in the luscious sight of you; skin dewy, gathered droplets glowing pearly like the diamond stars above, lips swollen and spit-shined thanks to him, breasts heaving with the exertion of your lungs. His hand lifts to bring it over your stomach, dragging his thumb from your navel up between the line made by your ribs before he takes your breast into his palm and massages it. His eyes are foggy, unable to focus on anything other than the way the fat and tissue bulge through the gaps in his fingers. He’s brought back by the touch of your fingers ghosting over his cheek and brushing back a clump of hair, tucking it behind his ear.

His eyes lift to yours, catching sight of your adoring smile made real by the way he worships you, touching you like you’re art. The corners of his lips lift in a sheepish grin, made embarrassed by the way he's been caught.

“So much for looking away.”

That has you throwing your head back, releasing such a sweet peel of laughter that forces Eddie to lay a kiss between the valley of your breasts, chuckling along with you, before taking you by surprise when he latches his mouth to your nipple. It makes your laughter blend with an approving gasp and a resulting groan, your fingers encouraging him with scratches to his scalp, the sensation making him moan over the skin, providing delicious vibrations that have you releasing gorgeous sounds, encouraging you to roll your still-clothed hips against his thick, hot, hard-on. You’re glad he bestows you with enough mercy as to not have you eat your words because he definitely is something like that.

With a particular flick of your pelvis, the cushy head of his cock catches on your folds through the scratchy material of your underwear and he releases you with a pop, head tipping up as his eyes snap shut and he releases a stuttering breath.

You bring his head down for a kiss, soothing the scrunched nature of his expression before he separates with a huff, burying his head into the crook of your neck while he hugs your body close to him, asking, begging, “I need to be inside you.”

The desperation is enough to have you responding, just as wrecked, “Please, Eddie.”

He untangles himself at your go-ahead, leaning back on his haunches as he takes your legs and admires the way the soaked fabric of your underwear clings to your puffy lips, the white of the material leaving nothing to be imagined. He traces over the hem of the leg opening with his thumb, your coarse hair peeking out and tickling the pad of his finger before he brings it to slide through your folds over the cotton. You jolt and whine as he travels from your seeping hole up to your aching clit, rubbing it in caressing circles before he takes your legs and lifts them, closing them together and placing them over his shoulder so he can drag the garment over the length of your legs. He savors the way it guides his eyes over your perfect skin, all that’s been exposed and what hasn’t before he drags them over your feet, where you kick them off. He chuckles at your fervor before taking the item and tossing it away. He kisses the muscle of your calf, eyes still locked on yours before he takes your legs and spreads them once more. At the sight of your exposed cunt, all glittery and soaked, he releases a low groan, leaning down to lay a kiss just above your thatch of hair.

You arch your lower back to present yourself to him and remind him of what you’ve been begging for, mewling in an insistent, pettish way. He straightens a bit, leaning forward on his left arm as he gathers his ruddy and leaking length into his hand and pumps it once and then twice before rubbing the weeping head through your slick.

“Don’t worry, baby, m’gonna treat you so good,” he assures.

With his promise made, the head of his cock presses into you and you squeak. The sound falls into a satisfied groan, melding with the heavy grunt Eddie releases at the breach. “Shit, you’re so fucking tight," he rushes out, "and damn warm, too, holy shit.”

He leans over you again, elbows supporting his weight, and with his shift, his cock buries deeper within you, making you cry out as he nudges against your sensitive velvet walls, the thick veins catching against your nerves and making your body sing.

Given a moment for both of you to catch your breath, Eddie starts to rock into your wet heat, slow gentle thrusts matching the rhythm of the lake as the incoming waves lick at his knees. They’re yawning and slow, pitching both of your bodies with each snap of his hips against yours. Your arousal coats him and leaks out with each retreat of his hips, your creamy release raveling your mess of hair and squelching with each kiss of your pelvic bones.

Your noises mingle together in high pitched keens and deep, gravelly groans and curses. You hug him tight, bodies mashed together as your arms hug him from under, nails fighting to keep him close to you as they scrape along his skin and leave glowing irritated markings where they pass while your legs lock at the ankles over his ass to keep his hips from venturing too far from your own.

His head hangs low above your chest, watching as he exits and enters in and out of you, listening to the wet slap that disappears with the gentle crash and retreat of the waves. His bangs, still clumped with moisture, tease the skin of your breasts, dragging up and down with each of his thrusts, the chill droplets of water that dangle like crystal beads from the ends causing a rash of goosebumps to spread. His breathing is heavy, panting and gulping thick as he moves with you, fucked out on your pussy and the salt of your skin on his tongue when he kisses your chest. You watch as the muscles of his shoulders sway with him, his pale, near translucent skin, speckled with beads of water that you can't help but lean down and lick, kissing, biting every inch of skin you can reach, falling back once he ruts forward and prods at that spot that has your belly tightening and your cunt clamping over him.

“Shit, Eddie,” you gasp, the sound muffled to your own ears, taken over by the chirp of crickets and cooing owls, the croak of sleeping frogs that burrow in muddied soil and fall to rest, their heartbeats slowing with the chill of the earth. The head of his cock keeps tapping against that patch of nerves that has your body shaking and you plead with him, through the way you tighten your legs around his slender hips, to move faster and to hit harder. He understands your subtle request and delivers you firmer, quickened thrusts that have each one of your nerve endings chiming like a silver bell, feeling surrounded by his adoration of you with each kick of his hips that has you ringing in ‘ah, ah, ah’s.

He falls over you, unable to hold himself up anymore while also craving the complete touch of your skin as he winds his arms around your waist and presses his cheek to yours. His hold on you forces you still against him and intensifies the reach of his cock, his dick ramming into you and making your voice jump with each of his pounding thrusts.

The sound of him leaving and then sliding right back home, the clapping of skin on skin is lost to the night while your ramblings of how good he feels and how much you care for him, every word is captured just as every peck against your skin is memorized in a fizzing prickle against your flesh and every sigh and grunt is cataloged in the back of your mind; this is how he sounds, this is the rate of his breathing, this is how he loves.

The thought overwhelms you in a way that excites your senses, suddenly hyper aware of all of the little details: the smell of his cheap cologne invading your nostrils in an intoxicating burn, the feel of his hair, coated in product, made crunchy with hairspray and tickling your cheeks and your lips, the way he fucks into you in the softest, most adoring way. It’s the way he holds you and the way that he protects you, the way that he breaths your name like they’re the most essential set of syllables he’ll ever utter that makes you feel so good that you think you can cry and it’s the prick of your tear ducts and the sniffle caught in your throat that ensures it.

The way he’s moving inside you, you’re tumbling to that glowing end, breathing growing tighter, and Eddie can feel it. He can feel it in the way your skin is hot to the touch despite the late spring temperature and the way your cunt squeezes and chokes his cock every time he drives it back into you.

“I’m so close,” you whisper into his ear, voice trembling, and he growls, the aggressive noise dissolving into a whimper as he lifts his head to look down at you. His eyes are lidded and the weight of his bottom lip hangs as he readies a strained response that gets caught in his throat.

He notices, then, the streaks along your cheeks, illuminated like liquid silver against your skin and his eyebrows grow taut as he reaches to hold your face and wipe at the water there. “You okay, Pidge?”

His thrusts begin to slow, afraid he may have hurt you, but you refuse to allow that, tightening your legs and securing your arms over his shoulders as you call for him to continue.

“No, no, don’t stop, please.” He returns to his set pace, and you moan for him in a blissed-out haze, turning to kiss his palm over every line, pecking the swirled pads of his fingertips and loving the feel of the grooves against your lips.

“I’m okay, swear, Eddie," you gasp, head tilting back as you get lost in the heavenly sensation of his cockhead snatching against your walls. "Just feels so good.” You look up at him with sultry eyes that implore him to keep fucking into you and the sight of you all puppy-eyed has his abdomen clenching and his breath catching.

“Fuck,” he chokes.

You whine at the wrecked crack and desperation that laces his voice, reaching your hand up to pull his head down and kiss him, muffling your cries into his mouth as his groans echo within yours. His thrusts grow erratic and unmeasured, and you thrill at his increased speed, breath hitching with the way his thumb travels down your body to rub speedy circles into your clit, each flick causing fireworks to erupt behind your eyelids.

You flinch as you cum, the warmth in your stomach releasing in a white-hot wave of pleasure that has you shaking with the force of it, crying Eddie’s name as it springs like a bound coil finally allowed to relax. With the spasming of your pussy he has to pry himself away from you and pull out, fisting his cock in hurried tugs until he spills all over your stomach, painting your soft skin in streaks of his release.

You hum at the feeling of his warm cum coating you, finding it comforting as you draw him closer, cooing at him and holding his face in your hands as he finishes in stuttering waves before he falls over you, careful not to crush you under his weight. You find the smear of his finish between you not unpleasant and neither does he it seems as he negates it and releases a contented sigh with his head buried into the furnace of your neck, wrapping his arms under you to hug you tight.

You smile at his affection, nuzzling your nose into the side of his head, sighing with him before he admits, slightly slurred, “Fuck, you’re so fucking good.”

His profession has you cradling his head closer and squishing your nose deeper into his forest of hair, smiling like an idiot as you only chuckle in return.

You smile, kissing his head, before murmuring into his locks, “Not so bad yourself.”

You can feel his smile against your neck before he kisses it, and you giggle at his tranquil display of satisfaction.

“But don’t think I’ve forgotten; you still owe me Head on the Door,” you remind while sniffing up the leftover snot in your nose and wiping at your eyes with the heels of your palms. He extricates his face out of his little hovel and looks down at you with that troublesome glimmer in his eyes.

“I mean, may be a little hard, I’ll have to take down the whole door, but I’ll give it a try.”

“Eddie!” You chastise as he barks a booming laugh that has his stomach rumbling against your own.

“Aw, c’mon, I thought my overpowering sex appeal would wipe that weirdo from your thoughts completely!” He groans in faux disappointment.

You giggle at his theatrics, “Nope, you better count your days because as soon as Robert Smith accepts me as his second wife, your bags are packed.”

He whines as he lays his head beside yours, cheek pressed to the scratchy denim as he moans, “You’re so mean to me.”

You pet his drying hair over his shoulder before pecking a kiss to his mouth, “It’s only ‘cause I love you.”

He hums a brief laugh, “Oh yeah, that’s right.”

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b4mpyre-k1zz3s · 8 months ago

Note

Okayokayokay so I was thinking smth like you're a friend of bams who gets dragged along with most of his adventures which leads to you meeting ville and he just. Instantly is like 'that ones mine, when do you want to move to Helsinki with me' kinda similar to yr bam x model!reader fic iykwim?

Love You To Death

Having Bam Margera as a friend also means you get dragged along on whatever project he’s working on, most recently leading you to Finland, where you would get caught up in something you couldn’t even imagine.

Ville Valo X Fem!Reader (slight Bam Margera X Ville Valo if you squint?)

(Angst, fluff)

3.2k Words

Warnings: Highly suggestive content, alcohol, smoking, manipulation, power imbalance, fighting, toxic relationships

An: Thank you so much for your request! I always love writing for kind of messed up relationships such as this one and would be happy to do a sequel! This is my first time writing a Ville centric fic so lmk what you think! Thank you for the request and please keep sending them!

Being a part of Bam’s crew and following him around everywhere only served to reinforce one fact: you were nobody special. He always claimed that your little group was a package deal, but who was the one always always getting followed by cameras and reporters? Certainly not you, or Ryan, or god forbid Novak. Bam was getting all the product deals, all the interviews, all the chicks. It was no wonder that after years of watching from the sidelines, you were a little jealous. But while you were filming together, you usually tried to push that aside.

“He’s, like- the Elvis of Finland, Y/N!” You were flying out to Europe to film this music video, and Bam had been excitedly gushing about something or other the whole time- this rock star he wanted to introduce you to, but you were pretty clearly not paying much attention. “Chicks pass out when he walks down the street! They’re, like- my favorite band.” Yeah, because if Bam’s a fan of something, that means it’s good. You nodded, sitting back in your economy class seats while you tuned him out.

It was the dead of winter, so Helsinki-Vantaa was completely decked out in Christmas decorations as you touched down, making the whole airport glow amber in the dark blue night- what a sight to wake up to.

☆彡

Half asleep, you were still blinking awake as you arrived at a dim, seedy looking rock club in the center of the city- some place called Tavastia. The bouncers outside took one look at Bam and quickly ushered you guys over to this side entrance, giving him his usual celebrity treatment. Following him to where the band was hanging out backstage, you had to do a double take when you saw that tall stranger sprawled out on the couch, idly smoking his cigarette with half lidded eyes. His eyes flicked up to meet yours first before darting towards Bam, who was standing with a hand held out to pull him to his feet, “Hey, man! What’s up?” There were traces of pink lipstick left on his cigarette as this beauty of a man took a drawl, shrugging, “Nothing much.” His eyes fell on you again as he looked you up and down as he talked with Bam in that low, totally chill register, “Who’s this?”

He introduced you to each other: Y/N, this is Ville. Ville, this is Y/N. Honestly, you misconstrued his subtle flirting as him just being nice- you chalked up how he said it was a pleasure to meet you and the way he kept looking back to you while Bam was excitedly going on about the new video as Scandinavian hospitality, if that’s a thing. You were so oblivious. The roar of the excited crowd was a mere rumble from where you were, and as the band got their cue to head out onstage, Ville shot you a wink as he slipped out the door.

You know that phonemenon where someone goes to a concert and they swear back and fourth the singer was making eye contact with them the entire time? Well, you were pretty sure Ville’s eyes didn’t leave yours for the entire set. He was gazing at you as if you were the only person in the entire world. However, you were pretty oblivious to this- all you were really paying attention to was the music. In fact, Bam noticed this even before you did, though at first he did think he was staring at him before that great, looking from one person to the other realization moment.

☆彡

He didn’t bring it up until you were stepping outside and getting into the waiting taxi, “How are you this oblivious?” Pulling your coat shut as you shook the snow out of your hair, you stepped down into the cab, “Huh?” Bam reached into his pocket, shoving a handful of twenty euro notes at the driver before turning to you, “Dude! He was givin’ you the eyes all night! Did you seriously not know he was into you?” The edge in Bam’s voice struck you as odd, but you were certainly listening now. “If I was in your shoes, Y/N- I’d be all over that shit in a heartbeat.” You still didn’t believe what he was saying. Why would a man like Ville- a man as famous as him (and as adored by women as him) want anything to do with you? You are barely a B list star in America. You weren’t a model or a pop star or anything- you got famous for hanging out with a guy who was fameous, which was nothing. Turning to look out the window as the snow flurried by in the pitch black night, you shrugged as the car sped off.

Bam received a phone call that night- from Ville, of course, grilling him for everything he knew about you. “From the moment I saw her, we had this…connection.” He mused, speaking in that flowery way he did when he was very passionate about something, “I have to have her. I’m sure you know what I mean, right?” Hushing the shock in his voice so he wouldn’t wake you, he leaned in close to the receiver, “Hold your horses, man- you just met her!” Oh, it’s not as if he would understand how he felt about you. Compared to him, Bam was a teen boy when it came to romance. But Ville’s fame usually got him what he wanted and, not wanting to appear lame in front of a man he respected so much, it only took a little priding to get your friend to eventually spill all the information he needed.

It was only a surprise to you when you discovered what was waiting in front of your hotel room door the next morning. A bouquet of flowers- your favorite flowers, which definitely weren't in season that time of year- bundled together with a black, silk ribbon. You examined them curiously, turning over the attached card and gasping when you saw who it was from. Maybe Bam was right about that.

★彡

Bam was in director mode the entire time you tagged along with him to the shoot, which is a nice way to say he was being a meticulous jerk. There was this whole production setup, with all these big cameras and mics and wires strewn about the floor- real professional looking, nothing like the run and gun camcorder stuff you were used to. It was dazzling enough to walk through this huge, baroque manor in the middle of the Czechian countryside, but to film in it?

Now, you didn’t catch the beginning of this argument, but while you were drooling over the fancy equipment, you heard something about the European model chick they were intending to have in the video running late. Despite this, Ville seemed surprisingly nonchalant about the situation as he reasoned with Bam, “Why don't we just use her?” Bam huffed out some response about how expensive it was to get this lady and Ville’s eyes wandered over to you, “I mean,” Ignoring him, he looked you up and down, speaking barely loud enough you could hear him, “she’s already very beautiful- She wouldn’t need very much hair and makeup.” Bam gave up his protest and went over to begrudgingly drag you to the makeup tables, mumbling something about this only being a practice run. All of this was leaving you confused and far more flustered than you could care to admit.

You weren’t sure what to make of everything that was happenings, and Bam’s very barebones direction of ‘be sexy’ right before the camera started rolling wasn’t helping much. It also didn’t help that you had this absolutely angelic man in front of you, serenading you completely shirtless. This is the kind of thing middle aged women read paperbacks to expereince, and there you were. While you tried your damndest to act all minxy (and frankly failing at it), Vile was so effortlessly confident. This incubus was bewitching you, and you were falling for his spell.

☆彡

That night, after the shoot, the three of you met up at the pub down the road. Ville greeted you with one of those cute European double cheek kisses, your skin being warmed by the yellow streetlamp you were standing underneath. Bam, who was standing right next to you, turned his face in anticipation, but the only thing he received from Ville was a friendly pat on the back (which was more of a shove) towards the door, “The bar’s that way! Go get yourself a drink.” It sent him stumbling ahead of you two and he looked back with bewilderment as you felt an arm slip around your shoulders. Despite the fact that you looked an awful lot like a couple, you didn’t mind being seen with this eye candy. Walking with Ville by your side was like walking through a dream. These beautiful women and beautiful men that lined the dark, wood paneled halls of the old pub all greeted him with admiration as you made your way to the bar. Some of the bolder women even reached out to touch him with fond, feather light caresses as he passed by, which he didn’t seem to mind in the slightest.

“You were wonderful today, Y/N.” Ville took the seat next to yours at the bar, leaning against the counter as he spoke in that mesmerizing way he did whenever he was talking to you, “Honestly, we’re thinking of using that take in the final video- you were much better than that model.” Your eyes went wide, and so did Bam’s as he leaned around you, “What’re you talking about? She was great!” This whole music video business was drawing a wedge between the two of them, and you were caught in the middle of it. Bam waved his hands to dismiss the notion. “Whatever- you know what?I think it went really well today.” It was odd- if it was anyone else but Ville he was taking to, you knew he would’ve stood his ground a little more. Even the way he talked around him was different. Bam shrugged, taking a swig of his beer to look nonchalant, “I just got some editing to do tomorrow and I should have somethin’ by the end of the day.” Your attention was drawn away as, leaning in towards you to be heard over the chatter of the bar, Ville murmured close to your ear, “Maybe while Bam’s busy doing that, I could show you around Helsinki tomorrow. Hmm?”

Well, how could you say no to that?

★彡

The next morning, Ville picked you up in front of your hotel and took you around to these beautiful, romantic spots. One among the many you visited was this gigantic church: Helsinki Cathedral, he told you it was called. Up the marble steps, you wandered about the stark, white columns near the entrance as Ville went on about the history of this building, “If I recall, it was built in tribute to Nicolas the first- back when this land was under Russian rule in the 1840s.” Though you would never say this aloud, you were really surprised at his knowledge of history. Ville was nothing like the grimey skater dudes that you usually hung around. He had this intelligent, charming air about him, and it helped that he didn’t smell like you sprayed a whole can of Axe body spray into a bag of Jack Links.

You didn’t even notice that he was looking at you as he mused aloud, “If I were to ever get married, Y/N, It would certainly be here.” From the second you walked in the room back at the club, Ville had his sights set on you. If it were a socially acceptable thing to do, Ville would’ve asked you to move in with him right then and there, but unfortunately he had some awareness of social graces. And as he stood on the steps with you, Ville just knew you would look like a princess dressed in white- an angel. He let his thoughts run wild a bit from there. Your lips were moving but the only thing he could hear was church bells.

Maybe not that fast- you were a sensible woman after all, Ville thought, and you didn’t seem the type to jump to get hitched to a man only because he was famous and interested. But that didn’t stop him from trying to subtly plant that thought in your head, conveniently taking a detour on the way back to your hotel to show you that wooden bridge in town that lovers and newlyweds place locks on to proclaim their affections for one another.

☆彡

You and Bam shared this look of confusion when the front desk lady told you there was something wrong with your reservation. A call was placed earlier and you had already checked out, she said, but despite Bam’s frustrated explanation that you already paid for that night, she wouldn’t hear him out- no refunds, hotel policy. Staring out the front window at the snow that was blustering by in the less than negative temperatures that were typical of a Helsinki winter, you racked your mind for options. Bam beat you to it, closing his flip phone with a click, “I just got off the phone with Ville-'” That knowing grin spread further across his face as he continued in a tone that indicated he was very proud of himself, “and he said we could crash at his flat for the night. He’s sending a car right now!”

A few moments later, the concierge let Bam know that he had a phone call for him. Reaching over the counter, he grabbed the receiver and pressed it to his ear, not noticing that you had slipped out the door even after you turned and called to him as you left, “Hey, I’ll wait out front!” It was really well choreographed- Ville called him just as that hot, black car pulled up in front of the hotel. Rolling down the window, he took in the sight of you there, standing under the yellow glow of that street lamp, waiting for him in the cold like some abandoned puppy on the side of the road. It was cute. You were walking around to the other side of the car as he lifted up the phone he was conveniently hiding below the window and pressed it to his ear, mumbling an “I'll call you back,” to Bam before flipping it shut. Sliding onto the warm, leather seat next to Ville was a welcome respite from the cold as you sighed, closing the door. He smiled at you and gently took your hand, placing a sweet kiss on your knuckle- this prince charming move that made you wonder if this was also a common gesture in Finland as you blushed and stammered, “Thanks for the, uh- thanks for the ride. How’s Bam gonna, like- get to your place…?” He shrugged nonchalantly, sitting back and looking back out the window as you sped off. “Oh, I just talked to him. We’re sending another car later to pick him up- he’ll be fine.” Once again, Ville’s fame got him what he wanted. The only thing he needed to do was make a phone call.

After you were done kissing your hellos, he talked with you on the drive to his place, but not the way Bam usually did- he wasn’t talking at you. Instead, Ville asked you how you were liking Finland or if you’d ever thought of moving here- he’d be happy to get you a place to stay and help you with the language if you were interested. Honestly, he made the whole concept of leaving your life in America behind sound pretty damn promising.

☆彡

“Wow…your place is really nice.” You looked arround with awe as you walked in the door, and even through the dimness you could tell it was a pretty upscale apartment. “I don’t spend a lot of time here- really. Just a place to crash between tours.” The only light in the room came from Ville’s fridge as he opened it, leaning inside. “Something to drink?” Sitting on his couch timidly, you gave him an, “mmhm,” and he came back with two beers, placing on on the glass coffee table and opening the other himself. Blue light cascaded onto his delicate features from the window that sat behind you, the only way you saw him in the darkness.

You couldn’t place your finger on what was so bewitching about Ville, but you had this whole image of him in your head already. He probably paints and writes poetry in this apartment, you thought. He probably spends his evenings on this very sofa, idly sipping wine for hours before throwing on his coat to solemnly wander about misty graveyards and lament the fleetingness of life and love while placing roses on headstones. He just seemed like the type.

The whole time the two of you were chatting over drinks and discussing how well the video went, Ville kept getting calls that he would quickly hit the ignore button on without any explanation. This would’ve set off red flags in any sane person, but at this point you couldn’t exactly consider yourself sane with the way you were drawn to him. What you didn’t know was who was calling him- Bam, who’d been waiting for that car to show up for the past two hours. That was until he called you and you quietly excused yourself to take it. “Dude! Okay, okay, okay-” He rambled on, “so basically- all the hotel shit’s sorted out! There was an issue with some system- i know- and they gave us all this complementary free shit!” From the way Bam was slurring his words, you could tell he was already making a dent in the mini bar. Still, you were relieved that everything got sorted out, however suspicious the circumstances.

But despite how happy Ville seemed to hear the news, you could tell there was something else happening in his head. Standing up, you were making your way toward the door when you felt something stop you. It was a hand- pale, long fingers firmly grasping your arm, and there was something possessive about the way it held onto you, like someone holding onto something for dear life. “Ville…?” Turning to him, the only way you could make out his presence was from the way the light flooding in the window silhouetted him. There was this aching, earnestness in his voice. “Don’t go. Don’t leave Finland.” There was something in his pleading words that made you think that he wouldn’t know what tomorrow would bring if he woke up and you weren’t there. “What? You- you want me to stay?” Answering your silent question of ‘how long?’, Ville continued, all but encouraged by the sympathy bubbling up in the corners of your eyes. “I don't know: a day, a month- a year? Forever? Just, please- don’t leave. I need you.”

“My heart, my body- my soul needs you. Just…stay.”

#jackass #ville valo #bam margera #him #him fanfiction #him fanfic #ville valo x reader #jackass fanfiction #jackass fanfic

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beenbaanbuun · 9 months ago

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Not a question, but we're back on the thoroughly insane yeosang hours 🫠🫠

Was making mood boards for the ateez members, and one thing led to another, and got me thinking about a bodygaurd/hybrid au where MC is the daughter of a rich mafia crime lord, and yeosang is the doberman hybrid her father purchases as a bodyguard.

I'm picturing our leading lady as a bit of a spoiled brat with a kinda pastel coquette aesthetic? Not in any way that's insufferable (heaven forbid) but just bratty enough that she doesn't listen when she tries to speak to the ridiculously pretty bodyguard in his tight black shirt and he tells her her father has insteucted him to protect her and nothing more. She doesn't listen to a word he says when he informs her that her dad has set the mall off limits for the time being. Disregards his warnings that the park is too dangerous and she shouldn't be skipping on the slippery stones that span the river rather than walking down the bridge like a *normal* human being.

He thinks she's just spoilt, and she is, she enjoys knowing that as much as he tries to dissuade her unless she does something REALLY dangerous he can't exactly stop her, it's neither his nor the tired butler's place.

But really she's hoping to get a rise out of him. She loves the way his lip twitches and his ears turn when she tells him about the drama going on within her dad's more legal businesses, even if he won't verbally respond. She adores the exasperated pout on his lips when she drags him from shop to shop, trying on outfits and modelling them dramatically for *cough*him*cough* whatever friend she's brought along. And best of all, when she stumbles on one of those rocks, and he rushes to her side to catch her and stop her from falling in the water, scolding her as he holds her waist the rest of the way across, speaking more than he has in the weeks since they'd met.

Obviously these interactions would gradually escalate, just talking at him like a brick wall turns to deciding that if he's going to sit and look pretty like a doll she may as well treat him like one, and he has to wear leather gloves to hide the pretty nail art you keep putting on him. Walks through the park become an excuse for you to pretend to run ahead or walk on something you probably shouldn't so he'll hold your hand to keep you by his side. And worst of all (in his opinion) is the day you decide to take him swimsuit shopping before a big trip, modelling them like you always do, enjoying the way his ears burn red and he stutters over answering your questions of which one looks best.

It's all going according to your plan, naturally.

(Cue mastermind by taylor swift)

The final straw would be when you follow your dad to a business meeting overseas, and are invited to attend a beach party hosted by the business partner's son. Yeosang's usually very obedient, even with all the nagging, he understands that you and your father are his owners and his job is just to ensure your wellbeing l. But surely this lanky *boy* leaning a little too close to you is a threat, right? He's not stepping out of line when he moves to stand more closely behind you, growling and removing the kid's hand when it comes to rest on your hip, right? Even if it does come out harsher than intended and starts a bit of a squabble because the boy won't back off and ends up snapping at you to "get your damn dog under control"? Even when you storm away angrily afterwards with him in tow, slamming the door of your hotel room shut behind you and pushing him down to sit on the edge of your bed, demanding to know why he did it.

You know, in the back of your mind, you know. But it's so fun to watch yeosang *squirm*

And it's even more fun when he admits that he didn't like seeing the way that boy touched you, when his pleas for forgiveness turn into angry growls...

(I'm very high on both caffeine and sugar while walking around an airport rn so I'm sorry if this is like, incoherent lmao, but i hope u know my brain well enoughto see the ✨️vision✨️)

(Also I can't believe that our first interactions were me being a slut for this man 😭 I am so sorry your adopted sister’s a whore-)

~lyra

NO BECAUSE YOUR BRAIN?!?!? i love that our first interactions were just us being whores for sangie… i feel like it’s so perfectly on brand for us 😭😭

—————————————

‘miss, i said i was sorry for acting that way,’ yeosang begs, not just with his mouth but with his eyes. they’re so wide and pleading that you almost can’t help but reach a hand out to pet him like you would a real dog. he’d take it; he always does. you guess that in a way he has to, since you technically own him.

‘are you, yeosang?’ there’s a smile on your face and you can barely hide the glee in your voice as you tease him. he nods desperately and it sets something alight within you. he’s such a pretty doggy, just sitting there with that pathetic look on his face. ‘then why did you scare him away, hm? he was right, i really should get my dog under control…’

and just like that, yeosang snaps, a low growl leaving his throat. it shocks you into silence, your next words vanishing into thin air as your guard dog stands up from the bed and takes a few steps closer. despite the fact that he isn’t much taller than you, the way he’s staring you down makes you feel tiny. it’s even worse when he snatches your face up in his grasp, holding it firmly so you can’t look away from his menacing eyes. they look you up and down once, a soft snort of laughter coming from their owner.

‘your dog? oh, missy, i think you’ve forgotten who’s in charge here,’ his voice is low and rumbling, rattling around your brain like a clap of thunder. whilst you know it might be safe for now, you know that lightning will follow soon. you can only hope you don’t get struck. ‘tell me, princess, who is it that decides where you can and cannot go?’

‘y-you…’ he gives you a dangerous grin, canines glinting at you as he gives you a satisfied grumble.

‘good girl,’ the way he says those words makes you weak at the knees. you’re sure you’d topple over if it weren’t for the way he’s holding you in place by your jaw. some strange corner of your brain lets you know that you wouldn’t mind being left to crumple to the floor; maybe you’d even like the way he looks from down there. ‘and who is it that has to approve every little decision you make?’

again, the answer is him. you nod at him wordlessly and his smile gets brighter. an unexpected feeling in your chest blooms as he swipes an affectionate thumb over your cheek.

‘say it then, princess,’ he coos, voice dripping with condescension. for someone who says so little usually, he sure has a lot he wants to get off of his chest now. ‘tell me who’s in charge here.’

‘you, yeosang.’

he nods, ‘good, now tell me who you belong to.’

you whimper as he leans in impossibly close, warm breath fanning your face. it’s a complete contrast to the sharpness of his nails against your flesh.

‘i belong to you… sir.’

he hums, pleased with your answer. in fact, he’s pleased with almost everything you do. it just goes to show that even though you act like a fucking brat most of the time, all it takes is a little push from him to have you whimpering under his command. you calling him sir while looking up at him with those big doe eyes is something that he’ll be thinking about forever, most of all during his late night self-pleasure sessions.

‘that’s right, princess,’ he lets his hand drop from your face, laughing at the way you chase the touch. it really is adorable. ‘you’re mine, and i appreciate it when boys i don’t know keep their hands off of my property…’

#ateez x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez fic #ateez oneshot #yeosang hard hours #yeosang oneshot #yeosang x reader #ateez hard hours

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thegoldfishkid13 · 1 year ago

Text

Transformed Jasper Hale x reader

A/n: Please feel free to send me requests for characters :)

Warning: Blood mentioned, death kinda, swearing?, Rosalie being softish

Words count: 794

Type: Sorta angsty with a dabble fluff

Masterlist

I lay on the ground in agony, pieces of glass scattered around me. The vampire, not one I know, is standing above me wiping the blood from his mouth. My blood! The pain suddenly hit causing me to groan, a fire sensation shot through my body. The vampire bent down to touch my face, I tried to pull away but I couldn’t. He leaned down and whispered in my ear.

I couldn’t understand what he said, the pain was unbearable. All I want is for the pain to stop. Another agonizing shot of pain runs through my body.

“Please…” I begged for him to make the pain stop, to do something. He shook his head no.

“ Sorry sweetheart, but a lesson needs to be taught.” Confusion filled my brain. ‘ Why was I being punished?’ ‘Did Jasper get into trouble and not tell me?’ While questions raced through my head another vampire joined him in the room. She looked down at me and smirked, she motioned something and then they both jumped out of the window. I layed on the floor still, I couldn’t move or more pain would shoot through my body. It felt like I layed there for hours on end, in reality it was 30 minutes. I heard the front door of my house open and then shut. Someone was yelling my name.

I tried to scream for help but all that was able to be released was a strangled cry. Footsteps grew quickly and louder, he wasn’t alone, someone was with him. My bedroom door flew open with so much force that it almost blew it off the hinges. They rushed over to my side. I opened my eyes and looked at who was standing there, it was Alice, Jasper and Carlisle.

“Make it stop please, It hurts!” I beg. Carlisle was quick to get down by my side and the others followed, he turns my head and see the bite mark, which was slowly healing.

“ We are too late, she will transform soon.” He spoke “The venom has already entered her blood stream and started to take over. The best thing we can do is stay with her.” His voice was calm and serious.

“There has to be something we can do, right?” Jasper spoke, Carlisle shook his head no, nothing could be done. I close my eyes again, too weak to speak. I felt a cold hand grip mine and I heard footsteps leave the room, most likely giving me and Jasper space. Cold lips connected with my forehead.

“I’m sorry darlin’, I love you and now we can be together forever, nothing will bring us apart.” His voice shook, if he could cry he would. A strangled groan leaves my mouth and that’s the last thing I remember.

I woke up in the Cullen family home. I could tell that it was Jasper's room by the dark sage green walls, the color we picked together. I get up and look in the mirror, to see that I was changed into a black dress, I gasp. My eyes are red and my skin is cold and pale. I open the door and walk down the stairs to the living room where everyone was sitting. Most looked solem and others looked worried. Alice was the first one to notice me standing there.

“Y/n? You’re finally awake.” She said, excitement filled her voice. Everyone turned and looked at me, I just stood there and nodded, not knowing what to say. Jasper rose from his place on the couch and rushed over to me. He wrapped me in an almost bone crushing hug.

“Oh darlin’” Was all he said. I hugged him back, squeezing him, rocking us back and forth. Everyone got up and joined the hug, each saying they were glad that I’m okay and everything.

“What even happened?” I asked. I already knew the answer but it would be comforting to be told.

“ You were transformed into a vampire and now you're one of us.''Alice said, her voice was giddy and excited.

“You have so much to learn, come one.” Alice grabbed my hand and drugged me out of the house and into the woods. I tried to protest but it’s Alice and she doesn’t listen. Edward stayed inside with Bella, who still had a bandage around her wrist from some sort of accident I’m guessing. Rosalie and Emmet were standing with us.

“Y/n I know I haven’t been the nicest to you and I apologize.” Rosalie spoke, this shocked me.

“ Thank you Rosalie, it means alot.” I said and gave her a wide grin, Emmet gave her a hug and mumbled something causing me to let out a small giggle. Maybe transforming was for the best.

#jasper whitlock x reader #jasper whitlock #jasper hale x reader #jasper hale #twilight imagine #twilight x reader #twilight

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rauberrauber · 2 years ago

Photo

line up baby

wanted to make a sort of ref for everyone so i can keep track of everyone's designs, heights, etc

side hcs below cuz i wanna ramble lol

fyi any links are just for pictures to help visualize what im trying to say

also add to these with ur own i love reading hcs :]

general:

the sides work with a kind of cartoon logic (kinda like who framed Roger rabbit) which is what their shape shifting and such is, they can survive pretty much everything, dont bend to reality type thing

i also dig playing around with the idea that they just arent human, they dont need to eat, sleep, even breathe or blink if they dont wanna. They just play more human around thomas so they dont freak him out (everyone but remus at least, dude doesnt give a fuck lol) they all have their priorities regarding that kinda stuff. like logan doesnt eat or sleep almost at all (there r exceptions tho obvi (crofters)) while patton rly likes to cook and bake so why not eat the stuff you make? meanwhile remus eats literally anything he can find

they can also float if they wanna, same thing where they just dont around thomas. this came about me just imagining remus consistently floating around in the mindscape instead of walking for whatever reason? so yeah they can do that

theres a core mindscape and a ‘dark’ mindscape, that sorta works like the upside down from stranger things (as in the dark mindscape is like literally upside down and mirrors everything, like this)

everyones also got their own unique doors to their rooms. logans is very sleek and modern, pattons in more childlike and almost vintage, romans resemble castle doors while remus’ is more like a dungeons, virgils is typically angsty teenager with tons of posters and ‘keep out’ signs, and janus has tons of locks on his

design wise the core sides have straight teeth and fluffier hair while the dark sides have sharp teeth and rougher(?) hair (since changing, virgil has vampire-esque fangs)

logan:

square rimmed glasses

loves the rain

unintentionally fidgets with his clothes, always adjusting his glasses or rolling his sleeves up and down or messing with the buttons or his tie

playing more into the whole ‘sides dont have to eat thing’ he finds food kinda nasty lol, again only rly eats stuff thats very good to him (ultimate picky eater basically) patton has tried and failed many times to get logan to try and like new foods

roman was the one who got him to try crofters

watches those long ass video essays about random topics on youtube for background noise

patton:

round glasses and heart eyes

has roller blades/skates! specifically these ones that retract the wheels. good way of getting energy out (even if hes super clumsy with them)

tallest + dad bod

tons of bandages, kinda playing around with the phrase ‘broken heart’

him and janus play video games together (both of them are terrible lol)

definitely listens to dad rock/dad music

roman:

starry eyes!

crown can float on its own (same w/ remus’)

has one of these couches in his room to dramatically faint onto

him and remus dont share a room, but they have a sort of portal to each others rooms if that makes sense. a big mirror but instead of reflecting, its showing into the other room and only the twins can go thru

wants to be his own side after the split

roman and remus pierced each others ears when they were younger

virgil:

decently tall but slouches a lot which hides it (slouching hes shorter than the twins but still taller than janus) also rarely stands or sits straight at all so it kinda shocked the core sides when he showed them how tall he rly was (queue roman being mad cuz hes actually the shortest of the main four lol)

has stereotypical emo hair and still has some purple dye in it

hot topic skeleton fingerless gloves and muddy sneakers (idk why it just feels right)

tons of random bruises

draws his nails black with sharpie

listens to metal music to calm down. remus got him into a lot of numetal, screamo kinda music when virgil was still one of the others, it was one of the few times theyd hang out and virgil wasnt 100% freaked out by remus

definitely experimented with scene fashion when thomas was a teenager

drinks tons of energy drinks

janus:

shortest ha

yellow eyes

bow wrapped on his hat

long flowy cape and heeled shoes with spats (thats what theyre called right?)

uses the staff from pof as a walking cane

speaks fluent pig latin, remus and logan are the only ones who can somewhat understand what he says (remus cuz hes been around janus so long, and logan wanting to research and understand whatever the hell janus is saying) it also has always drove virgil up the wall cuz hes never been able to get it, janus will start speaking it just to annoy him

only rly relaxes when by himself, always kinda putting on a mask with the others and thomas, regardless of how trustworthy he considers them

constantly coming up with proper plans and schemes, typically wouldnt let remus near them with a 10 foot pole (affectionately)

knows how to lockpick

scared of the ocean

remus:

broken crown

eyes can go all crazy, pupils can be different sizes and such (there was a cartoon that did this where the eyes would go red and have a ton of rings around the pupils like spirals kinda? i cant find a pic of what im rly visualizing rip i hope that makes sense)

ton of rings (one of em is an eyeball ring)

is like half an inch taller than roman and will never let him live it down

enjoys all the ‘bad’ disney/pixar movies. (cars, home on the range, etc) and like unironically enjoys them. prolly started ironically to mess with roman but he genuinely find those ones the best and cant fathom why theyre disliked (totally not self-indulgent cuz some of those movies are my favorites)

comes up with random weird plans and ropes janus into them whenever possible, janus plays along best he can

somewhat wants to fuse back with roman (even if hes unsure why)

remus and virge used to make fun of roman together all the time

remus is the one who gave virge his septum and gages

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terresdebrume · 4 months ago

Text

Readers I have to confess something: the reason I'm not writing these days is because the most comfortable way to do a 2nd draft for me is to use the overtype function in Microsoft Word. It's an absolute lifesaver when I need to rewrite my drafts in full, super great, much more efficient than other anti blank-page-panic tricks I've seen for me. HOWEVER, I currently do not own a laptop or a proper computer, which means that the only way for me to use this method is to bring the work laptop home and use it there and I keep trying but honestly? It kinda gives me hives xD So, yeah. Progress on stories is slow, and it is likely to stay slow for that reason.

You do, however, get to keep receiving typo-riddled snippets that may or may not make it into a proper fic someday, because I can easily type those on my phone or tablet x)

Anyway, this one features Edwin meeting [SPOILER], feeling like he handles it rather poorly, and being reassured by Charles. Enjoy x)

The first thing Edwin notices when he gets there is the screaming. High pitched, full lunged, quite audibly furious: the sort of sound that grates through his eardrums and to his soul, making him want to cover his ears immediately. Instead, he takes a deep breath, adjusts his grip on the bottle of wine and the book he brought, and rings the bell.

"Coming!" Charles yells from what must be his kitchen, the sound muffled by the front window.

Edwin stands at the main door, eyes idly gazing at the right hand side of the building and the delicate English roses growing there, until the screaming gets closer and the door opens up. Charles gives him a harried smile, a toddler whom Edwin assumes is his son Kai wailing like something is violently pulling at his entrails.

"So we're having a bit of an evening," Charles apologize while Kai wails even louder.

Edwin follows Charles' gesture and walks in, taking his shoes off at the entrance to Charles' half of the townhouse while Kai's screaming turns into words Edwin doesn't understand. Charles answers in the same language, patient and soft but obviously tired, and by the time they're back in the kitchen it seems to be all he can do to keep rocking his son.

"Dinner's a bit late," he says, nodding at the dish simmering on the stove. It smells hearty and full of vegetables, and Edwin's mouth fills with saliva in absolute record time.

"That's alright," he says. "I understand. I'm told I used to have regular meltdowns when I was a toddler."

"Yeah, he's usually pretty calm," Charles says, rocking Kai from side to side in his arms, "but Crystal and I thought his binky was in his room here, so now she's out for the night, he hasn't had a nap, and it's still too early to crash."

Edwin winces in sympathy, watching as Kai shoves his pointy little face into Charles' collarbone, still screaming his lungs out and so red even the pale brown of his skin doesn't hide the blush. Charles manages his dishes one handed, obviously practiced, and Edwin does his best to stay out of the way and hide the way Kai's screaming makes hime want to plug his ears and run away or worse, start crying.

Kai refuses to eat, so Edwin ends up sitting on his own for most of dinner, Charles in the living room to calm him down, until sheer exhaustion finally vanquishes the tears and Charles is able to put his son down to sleep. Edwin hears him putter out upstairs, hears water running for a second or two, and then Charles' stockinged feet reappear at the top of the stairs.

"Sorry about that," he says.

Edwin smiles as best as he can, because it's hardly Charles or Kai's fault that toddlers scream and Edwin reacts the way he does to strident noise. It mustn't be very convincing though, because Charles makes a comforting noise and engulfs him in a hug, and Edwin finds himself melting into it against all expectations. It's been almost eight years since the last time Charles hugged him, yet somehow the feeling of his arms around Edwin's shoulders is still comfortable. Quiet. Safe.

Edwin stays there, standing in Charles' kitchen, with his nose tucked into Charles' collar, for longer than he care to count. Longer than appropriate, probably. But stay there he does anyway, and Charles lets him, hugs him tight until his breathing slows down, and the buzz in his ears recedes, nothing more than an ache now.

"Forgive me," Edwin says, not quite daring to meet Charles' eyes, "I didn't mean—"

"It's fine," Charles reassures, his hands warm where they run against Edwin's shoulders. "I had a bit of a cry before I came back down, you know?"

Edwin frowns, surprised. Little children, from what he has seen, cry often and do almost everything loudly. This has never seemed to bother any of the adults in his family. His little cousins, he remembers distinctly, were forcibly put to bed when they got started on the screaming, and left alone until they calmed down, no matter how long or how piercingly they wailed. No one but Edwin ever seemed to wish for earplugs. No one seemed to cringe from it with their entire body.

That Charles, who didn't even cry when Edwin told him there would be no justice for them about the night they almost died, could spill tears over something as apparently simple as a child crying? Even at that volume, Edwin can barely believe it.

"Did you?" He asks, so puzzled he barely realizes his hands are no longer fists. "I wouldn't have known."

"I handle it better now," Charles says with a rueful smile, "but the first few months..."

Chase grimaces and looks away, cheeks brightly pink, as if even admitting there are things that can break through his smile were too much for him. It might be, for all Edwin knows. He has been realizing, in the weeks since they reunited, that while he is very familiar with some facets of Charles, there are others that are a complete mystery, a realization softened by the knowledge that he has both the will and the time to get to know these other parts of Charles.

"I think it is quite sweet," Edwin says, taking a step back when he realizes Charles' hands are still on his shoulders. "Much better than simply wishing to make it stop, at any rate."

"Oh I do think that too," Charles admits, one hand coming up to fiddle with the gold chain at his neck. "I just kinda push it out, you know."

Edwin smiles, oddly relieved. Charles didn't seem to physicaly recoil from the sound like Edwin did, but it's still good to know he's not entirely alone with his discomfort. It is, he must admit, even better to have Charles here now, free to sit down and start in on his cold dahl. Edwin sits across from him at the kitchen table, which Charles hastily set earlier, tries not to be too strange about how pleased he is to see Charles take care of himself.

"I rather admire you, you know. I don't know I would have handled this."

"Like a champ, probably," Charles replies, spoon halfway to his mouth.

"Mmh. You are assuming I wouldn't simply calp my hands over my ears and leave."

"Of course you wouldn't," Charles scoffs, rolling his eyes. "You're way too kind for that."

"But I would be thinking it," Edwin insists, and Charles shrugs, swallowing another mouthful od dahl before he says:

"It's fine to think it. You just don't do it." Edwin feels the skeptical expression etching itself on his features in real time, seconds before Charles registers it and sobers up, putting his spoon down.

"I get it," he says leaning back in his chair with a studiously relaxed air. "After I told Crystal I'd help raise him I--I had panic attacks. For weeks."

Charles glances up at Edwin, who nods immediately. Bad home situation. He remembers. Charles nods back, visibly relieved that he doesn't need to explain again, and he reaches a hand out to fiddle with his bright blue plastic cup as his eyes fall to the tabletop. "I had to uh. See someone about it. It was stressing Crystal out." From the way Charles says it, Edwin strongly suspect that factor weighed far more heavily in the decision than Charles' personal wellbeing. "One of the things she keeps telling me is like. It's basically fine if I feel like shouting at people. Even Kai. I just gotta...not do it. Or uh. apologize when I do."

Charles' eyes dart up to meet Edwin's and he tries to respond with the kindest smile he can manage. From experience, he does realize it isn't that great a comfort, but Charles knows him enough to guess at the intent behind it and smile back.

"My point is, it's okay if you don't like the sound. I don't like it either. And you don't know each other, so obviously you don't know what to do. But when you seem him at a better time, I know you'll do great."

Edwin looks down at his hands, the bright heat of a blush splashed across his cheeks.

"Thank you," he murmurs. "For your confidence."

Charles makes a scoffing sound that is surely meant to convey how easy it is for him to have faith in Edwin's capacity not to traumatize little Kai, when they met properly, but Edwin's blush stays firm. None of his cousins were ever entrusted to his care, for any length of time. People find him difficult, complicated, antisocial and haughty at the best of time. Charles' words, after a lifetime of being measured for his social skills and being found profoundly lacking, soothe a wound Edwin hadn't quite realized existed. It takes him a moment to recover, silent and looking down at his hands, the fists his parents admonished him so many times for, and Charles never.

All that time, Charles sits in front of him, waiting him out patiently when he could very well get up and get started on the dishes, or prepare the card game he wanted to introduce Edwin to. Charles may have trouble sitting still more than five minutes, at times, and there are large chunks of his life that are a complete mystery to Edwin still. But sitting here, in a narrow kitchen, with Charles' warm gaze on him, Edwin realizes that he knows more than enough about the man to be in very real danger of falling right back in love with him.

#dead boy detectives #Edwin Payne #Charles Rowland #Payneland #DBDA Fic #s: i'm down on my knees #fic snippet #I guess it's more disjointed fragments than anything else really but that is NOT a tag I'll remember so x)#10n #20n #matt writes

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lover-girl-estxx · 8 months ago

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Really

(s33 R27) r fighter ufc 297

"I'm Nina and I'm here with-" "Y/n Y/l/n" "the woman featherweight champ of the world...why don't you say that? if I was the champion of the world I would tell everyone" she laughed "I don't know i'll start saying it more" "thank you or i'll tell everyone for you" I laughed. "milk or cereal first?" "cereal for sure! has anyone said milk?" she shook her head "no" "that's crazy" she looked at me making me laugh and her too. "if you could date one UFC fighter who would it be?" she asked I blushed "I'm not gonna say" "come on" she smiled "he's on the card that's all i'm saying" "no no now you have to tell me" I sighed "don't release this part till after the fights" "promise" "um okay.....Sean" "Strickland?!" I smiled "yeah" I laughed "he's like crazy you know?" "I know but I kinda like it," she laughed me too "this is gonna be everywhere" I sighed.

I was standing by the stage ready to go on for the press conference "y/n right?" I turn around to see Sean "yeah!," I smiled "Sean" he smiled back "good luck on your fight" "likewise! I know your probably not to happy about having a female co main event but it'll make your fight even better" I chuckled "no I don't mind you put on good fights" "thank you! your fights are great I can't wait to watch" I smiled.

"question for Y/n, how do you feel about Sean and the comments he made about female fighting?" I grabbed the mic "I don't mind," I shrugged "I think it's true I'll never fight as good Sean or any male fighter so I don't have a problem with what he said" "thank you see u guys are the only people with a problem". "where you from?" he whispered "I live in Vegas" "we'll have to train sometime" I nodded "sounds great" I smiled and lightly blushed.

| Week later |

"Y/n we're almost there you ready?" Nina asked through the phone "yeah I got all my snowboard shit" "okay!"

I put my stuff in the back of her truck I hopped in the front seat with Nina driving and her boyfriend in the back "hi!" I smiled and hugged her. Halfway there Nina says "oh I forgot I invited someone" "who's" I took a sip of my monster "Sean!" "Sean?! please tell me you mean o'melly even tho I hate him" "no Strickland" I sighed "really I didn't even do my makeup" "its fine he most likely didn't see the video" "your joking it's everywhere" I put my head in my hands blushing covering my face. I got on my phone going to the video on her page "he put laughing till i'm crying emoji, he thinks it's funny" "no he jus-" "don't bring it up please" "I won't promise" "thanks".

She walked over and hugged Sean as I got all my snowboarding stuff "Y/n!" he said "hi" I gave a slight smile he gave me a side hug "good fight!" "thank you, you too" I blushed "you still have your belt so you did better" "no no you won for sure" "thanks".

I was doing alright while snowboarding not very good, Sean and Nina were doing pretty good. "i'm going to the baby hills" I told the camera "no no come here" Sean said coming next to me putting a hand out for me which I took "thanks". "just start going" he said "i'm gonna fall and get cold again" I laughed he chuckled "I'll catch you I'm right here" "okay". I was doing great while holding on to Sean, we went over a rock Sean fell on his back pulling me down with him "Sean!" he groaned while I laughed "I still got caught you" took me a while in the snow but I finally got up then put a hand out for him "come on," I tried help him up "you have to help me a bit" we laughed he got up putting his hands on my back mine on his biceps "I got us both wet" "I can't do the big kid one" he laughed "i'll go the the baby one with you".

I did a jump "you see that!" I yelled "yeah!", "i'm tired" I sighed sitting down "me too" he sat next to me in the little cafe at the snowboarding place. Nina and her boyfriend joined "you back to training yet?" he asked me "no i'm taking a bit of a break, you?" "same yeah". "you know Y/n I saw something Nina posted on her page" I sighed "you did?" "yeah you'd date me out of all the UFC fighters" I sighed "yep" he nodded "give me your number then" I smiled "give me your phone" he smiled and threw me his phone.

#ufc #sean strickland x reader #sean strickland #sean strickland imagine #ufc x reader

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cloveroctobers · 2 years ago

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GUERO — summer prompts 🍋

A/N: yeah there’s no way you thought I wouldn’t right? I have a type 🤫 & since I’m divorced from angel and SICK of EZ’s ass (the way they scrambled his character is not it) + have a slight crush on Hank I basically just decided to take my pick and I don’t think Guero’s a bad choice—hopefully he doesn’t fuck that up lol. Listen to me being delusional but you kinda have to be even if it’s just a little bit when writing no?

WARNINGS: nothing but short fluff for my new man — with a hint of chaos!

PROMPTS from this list & this one too: 1.) “I’m so hot.” “Loving the confidence.” “Shut up.” + 2.) Ice cream dates.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ༊*·˚ ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ༊*·˚ ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ༊*·˚ ˏˋ°•*⁀

It’s early when Guero almost jumps out of your shared bed. He’s the type of man that can sleep through anything if you let him and it takes minutes for his eyes to adjust to the dim bedroom. He almost flinches when his brown hues settle on the thin gold curtains, specs of light threatening to fully break through with their beams from the outside.

He yawns, stretching his long ink covered limbs above his head, glancing to his left to notice that you’re not there like you should be. A frown erupts between his brows, his leg brushing over the sheets to feel they’re cool—almost to the point it feels damp?

Instantly he’s pushing himself into a sitting position, stuffing the palms of his large hands into his eye sockets to push the grogginess away. Giving himself a few moments, he glances at the fancy new modern alarm clock, which happened to be a careless purchase on your part, that’s illuminated in white, blurting that it’s 6:51AM.

You were always a early riser but not this damn early. Now he’s in a search of you, feet shuffling against the dark wooden floor as he tosses the bedroom door back. The hallway is also dim as he begins to make his way down by the bathroom on his left-hand side.

It’s not like it takes him long to find you, eyeing the top part of the fridge wide open, the front of it blocking the top half of you. You don’t notice him as he squeezes his way around to stand behind you, arms crossed, a smirk on his lips as you stand on your tippy toes, face buried into the freezer.

“I’m so hot.” He hears you say, voice muffled while he leans against the counter that contains the kitchen sink.

“I’m loving the confidence.”

The way his voice booms, makes you smack your head against the top of the freezer, making him snort as you settle back onto your feet, now holding your head as you glare at the taller man.

“Shut up,” you rubbed at the back of your head, “the hell are you doing sneaking up on me? sounding like Morgan freeman and shit?”

Guero lightly laughs, “my apologies babe. I thought you said you liked my morning voice?”

“Not when it’s quiet and I’m trying to have some peace.”

“…In the freezer?” Guero questioned with a frown on his face, as he briefly runs a hand through his bed-hair.

You huff, turning back around to stick your head back into the freezer, hands feeling around the space until you find exactly what you need.

Guero’s rushing over to you now, reaching to snatch the carton of ice cream that you just plucked the top off of, “oh hell no,” he responds as it’s your turn to frown at him.

Immediately you’re putting your back to the tatted man, his frame colliding with yours as you scuffle over the ice cream carton, “get your own!”

“What do you mean? That is mine! You don’t even like peanuts in your hot fudge sundaes.”

You didn’t even rock with sundaes like that in the first place to be honest…but the point still stands.

“Mind your business, Guero.”

“Sorry, last I checked, You are my business.” Guero argued as you peered up at him.

Normally that would make you weak in the knees but at this current moment, in your aggravation? It wasn’t going to fly. Smiling evilly at the man, you stuck your tongue out and swiped it right across the top of the ice cream, letting out a sigh in content as Guero scrunched up his nose.

Now here he was, waking up at the crack of ass, in search of his loving partner of two years that moved with him to santo padre in this updated mobile home, thanks to her contractor dad who had his own business and did plenty work around the golf course in the area, wondering if their well-being was in tact since they had a common case of insomnia from time to time, just to stand here now; with them disrespecting him by licking his favorite ice cream (and not off his body).

“Oh, you’re done for now.” Guero voiced as the both you were now in a battle for the ice cream.

Laughing to yourself, you went to do the same action again but the smack of the carton from your hands was almost like slow motion. Before you could even scrabble to attempt to save the ice cream, it toppled straight to the floor with a loud splat. A brief silence filled the small home as the both of you stared at each other, Guero quirking up a brow, tatted thin but muscular arms raised, quietly asking with his facial expression, what you’re gonna do about it now.

With your hands around his neck and him swinging you around, it was about to turn into WWE up in this bitch. The round only lasted for maybe about ten minutes, the both of you playfully wrestling and talking shit to each other as you stumbled into the living room.

Your arms had Guero’s tree sized ass in a headlock as you yelled, “why would you do that when you know I’m over here sweating my behind off?!”

“One, you didn’t ask and two, just turn the fucken AC on then!” Guero yelled back, arms locking around your waist as he used his weight to shove you onto the floor, but not without using one of his hands to protect the back of your head.

We didn’t need another repeat of the accidental concussion he gave you the last time the both of you wrestled.

“You’re the one who said we need to start saving money, paying $643 a month for just the mortgage alone with both of our shitty salaries and the ceiling fans weren’t doing shit!” You wrapped your legs around his hips while he gripped your wrists back over your head to keep from slapping him.

This was a old but still a fresh story, considering the both of you debated over this maybe two weeks ago? Before the both of you fell into the same routine of trying to make ends meet. The both of you were still young in your mid-to late twenties and didn’t live together back in Tucson but decided to when it came to this new destination.

Guero was grateful that you were locked in with this relationship, since he’s never had a serious partnership before you and he wasn’t down to do long-distance but he also really wasn’t down to fall in love with anybody else either. Back in Arizona you were in school working some shitty minimum wage job at a home improvement store, while he tended to a declining club with his late father…so you do the math.

Now in Santo padre, it was supposed to be a fresh start and money wasn’t discussed much between you two back then since the both of you like to keep it to yourselves. That quickly changed now living together, since it unofficially put a stamp on the potential of making this a forever thing. You were now involved in a unpaid internship while attempting to do some remote part-time job for income and Guero? Let’s just say the new distribution of a deadly thing that starts with the letter “F” was worth something nice!

You didn’t need to know the details though.

“I don’t mind you a little sweaty,” Guero shrugged, thinking about it, while you rolled your eyes.

“Ew, get off me you pig! You’re only making this worse.”

“For you maybe, not for me.” He responds with a wink, “I kinda like this position too.”

While he says so, you brought your knees to your chest, just to push your toes right into Guero’s gut, knocking the wind out of him as he crumpled to the side.

“That…was…not…cool.” He wheezed, holding his belly.

“Just like you smacking that ice cream from my hands. Fair is fair.” You folded your arms, rolling your head back up to stare at the ceiling with a sigh.

Guero watched the profile of you, feeling the energy radiating off you. He wasn’t completely clueless, he knew things were tougher out here for the both of you, trying to find your footing and him trying to avenge his father’s death and live up to his legacy but it always felt good to know that you had each other at the end of the day.

He shuffled closer to you, reaching out a hand to grip yours as he placed a kiss to the back of your hand. Soon he got to his feet, briefly leaving your side, then chuckled to himself at the fallen ice cream on the floor before looking into the freezer himself.

You had your eyes closed, actually liking how cooler it felt on the floor than in your bed. That nap wouldn’t last long with Guero lightly kicking your foot with his own to get your attention.

A nudge of his head made you eye him in curiosity, “Get your pretty ass up here, we’re going on a ice cream date.”

Slowly sitting up with a groan you eyed the other carton Guero was now holding in his hands. A laugh bubbled out your lips as you held one hand out for Guero to easily pull you up with one arm to your feet.

He unlocked the front door to the partial screened in porch, letting you lead the way as you let out another sigh of contentment as a breeze greeted your skin. Plopping down on the couch, you awaited for Guero to follow as he sat right beside you. Tossing your thigh over his, he pulled the top off the carton, stuck the scooper into the container and handed it right over to you.

Smiling to yourself, Guero shook his head at your eagerness as you went to work on getting a good scoop of neapolitan ice cream, leaving him to grip your neck so that he could place a kiss to the back of your once sore head.

Together the both of you sat side by side, watching the orange sunrise above the lake up ahead. A golf cart sputtered by with a elderly couple who happened to be fussing at each other as they made their way by the front of the home.

Originally Guero didn’t want to live in some retiree spot that you picked out but stopped bad-mouthing it after learning that your late firefighter mother spent her remaining months here. He also came to sorta like it, enjoying the quiet (especially at the late hour after hanging out with a bunch of rowdy brothers) and company of you after a few weeks.

“Morning!” The man greeted the two of you on his way by but not without making a coo-coo motion with his other hand towards his wife.

Which earned him a nice slap to his shoulder as the both of you waved at the couple, “I can still see you, AL! I’m not blind.”

“Oh sorry, Martha honey,” The man playfully grimaced at you two which earned him a laugh before he whispered, “I thought the glaucoma was beginning to set in.”

Guero snorted at the man, “have a good one,” as the couple carried on down the path to their daily outing.

“That’s gonna be us in forty years.” You stated after pulling the scooper from your lips, resting your head against Guero’s shoulder.

The man hummed, “you think so?”

“You don’t?”

He shrugged, “I’ll look sexier.”

“Of course you will.” You rolled your eyes with a laugh as you handed the scooper over to share.

“Wherever you go, I’ll go.”

“Likewise, even if you’re a idiot who wastes ice cream when it’s ninety degrees inside.” You smirked up at Guero who scoffed.

Guero placed the multi-flavored dessert into his mouth for breakfast and declared, “this shit is trash and nowhere near my hot fudge sundae.”

“More for me!” You reached for the carton but Guero blocked you from doing so with his shoulder.

Scowling Guero shook his head at you, “nope you’re gonna wait your turn since you ruined mine.”

“Be for real, That’s your problem, you don’t ever want to share. You’re being a trash date right now and won’t get another one.”

Guero tossed his head back in laughter, mouth full of ice cream as he talked, “yeah, right! What’s mine is yours and you’re mine.”

“Exactly, so give me my ice cream.”

“What?” He was confused by your logic.

Collapsing back against the couch dramatically, hand over your forehead and eyes closed you waited for Guero to break. It was quiet with the wind rustling it’s way through the leaves in the trees and the birds chirping through the summer morning air.

Cracking a eye open, Guero laughed at you.

“You’d be the perfect actor in a soap opera, you know?”

“And you’d be the perfect thief.”

“…takes one to know one,” Guero bit back as he placed another scoop into his mouth.

He was making you sick!

“Give it to me,” you side eyed the man, “you just said it was garbage.”

“Doesn’t mean I completely hate it but it’s not better than my sundae.” He mocked just to fall short as you latched onto his nipple and twisted.

Guero yelped, dropping the scooper into the carton with a hiss and abruptly handed it over. Grinning you happily welcomed the carton back into your hands as Guero rubbed at his pec.

“I cannot believe you just squeezed the shit out of my tit like that! Why you gotta be so violent for?”

As if he didn’t start it by breaking the best and only tower fan in the house, forcing them to settle with the mediocre ceiling fan in their bedroom.

“It’s the only way you’ll listen apparently.” You swung your feet as you licked at the scooper.

Guero winced, “fuck. Who am I gonna marry?”

Your eyes snapped to Guero’s then who stared intently at you.

“Marry?”

“Yeah, I said that.” The man dipped his head confidently before saying, “ One day though, only if you want to that is.”

There goes those butterflies with the birds singing to the beat of your heart at his words. Yeah you were being gushy right now but you couldn’t help how Guero Bardales made you feel.

“If you’re gonna kiss me, based on the look in your eye right now, can you maybe twist too so that way I’ll be more prepared and confirm if I’m with it or not?”

“You kinky asshole, you’re so unserious.” You were ready to flick the ice cream right at Guero’s gorgeous face.

He laughed, “what? I’m giving consent but I’m definitely serious about marriage down the line, I won’t lie about that baby.”

“Mhm.” You nodded leaning over for Guero to peck his plump lips with yours.

Before you could go back to your ice cream, he held your face in place—almost studying every surface of it adoringly. It was still early and you didn’t physically feel your greatest or put together for the day yet, so you sorta hated the fact that Guero was being this intimate right now.

“I love you more than anything, you know?”

You nodded without hesitation, “And I love you.”

He smiled at you, cupping your face, which you turned to peck the palm of his hand, giving him equally a loving smile.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ༊*·˚ ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ༊*·˚ ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ༊*·˚ ˏˋ°•*⁀

Continue along with my summer anthology prompts here.

#mayans fx #Mayans mc #mayans mc fx #mayans season 5 #mayans mc s5 #mayans mc x reader #guero mayans #Guero x reader #Guero Mayans x reader #andrew jacobs #summer prompts #summer prompt #queued

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