#long fringe earrings
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y'know, it probably feels weird for the scoundrel to admit, but they feel surprisingly comforted to be back on their ship for a change. they finally have control of the situation, they're finally around people they (vaguely) trust, they- wait a minute hold on what was that line
oh
oh no
oh no the horrors just keep getting worse and worse for them
#i dont think they're gonna be okay after All That. for a While.#fittingly i drew the merry gentleman card immediately after touching shore so there you go lmao#yin-thoughts#fallen london#fallen london spoilers#im weirdly enthralled by this line?? it's weirdly just. really effective#the implication that you've gone through All That over the course of weeks. idk. it's a little nightmare fuel#did you spend it with the mask on or off? does it even matter? do you even know?#ik days and weeks and the like in-universe dont really matter most of the time bc they dont really carry over#like a storylet will say 'over the next few weeks you do x' casually and you just accept that#but like. idk. something about it with the delight Specifically is sticking with me a lot.#how many times did you really go up and down those stairs. how long did you really spend staring into the distance.#how long were those birds screaming in your ears. how long was the naturalist screaming.#it's weirdly effective fringe horror on top of an already very good delightfully gory horror sequence#anyway. in conclusion i don't think the scoundrel is uh. Doing Good.#the delight scared the shit out of them. they arent the type to get scared easily. they were in autopilot fear mode for 99% of it.#they are putting that mask very very very far away on a shelf somewhere and desperately trying to forget it exists forever and ever now.#the end#scoundrelventures
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self portraits/personal exploration/self insert art
#jichanart#personal art#i don't really consider myself particularly good at getting peoples' resemblances so#self portraits are less about what i look like and more what i THINK my most notable features are#the shape of my face (and forehead). my earrings. round nose. big eyes. eyebags. light eyebrows.#and i desperately need a haircut. my fringe was not meant to be this long!!!#some of this is just me trying to think about what i want to look like. results inconclusive#self insert art is fun#but i can't imagine myself being anything but embarrassed around my favs so. lol#like sure i do want to go on a date with yagami but i'd be flustered to the point of being nonfunctional#and wouldn't that be weird for him in this hypothetical?#so. that's why my self insert art is just like this lol#anyway. (reaches into your brain and reshapes your mental image of me)
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*shaves my head for sensory reasons*
#unironically though...now that i know the joy of a buzzcut the feel of hair on my ears or neck is HEINOUS#like the little fringe that brushes the top of your ears when your hair starts to grow out? EVIL.#or when your hair is long enough that you can feel every follicle of your scalp when the hairs move? LITERAL TORTURE.
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I keep trying to have a break from drawing and I keep failing...
So have a sneak peek at Rametto a about 5-10 years post transition<3 also gonna be showing off her stand, Spellbound [i swear i wont rework it again... rip mirror in the bathroom...] look at her smiling confidently... transition really did save her...
#gold & silver#rametto#I'm happy with the hairstyle#It's been the most difficult aspect of her redesign#But it keeps her old fringe- just shorter- and with the rest long that she can out into a ponytail#And the blue earrings are still a central part of her design and stand#Im much much futher than this. But if I post this now i won't want to rush and finish to post tonight#Stand name being after spellbound by siouxsie and the banshees#rametto/a
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what are some ways to describe people other than eye and hair color
I am assuming you are looking for physical descriptors. Here are some examples. I may just make a different post on psychological descriptors.
Arms: Long, Muscular, Pudgy, Short, Skinny, Thin
Back: Bent, Hunched, Ramrod Straight, Rounded
Build: Anorexic, Athletic, Beefy, Brawny, Burly, Chubby, Coltish, Compact, Fat, Gangly, Gaunt, Gawky, Haggard, Heavy-set, Herculean, Husky, Lanky, Lithe, Muscular, Obese, Overweight, Petite, Rangy, Reed-like, Scrawny, Skinny, Slender, Slight, Solid, Spindly, Statuesque, Stocky, Strapping, Sylphlike, Taut, Thickset, Thin, Trim, Underweight, Voluptuous, Well-built, Willowy, Withered
Cheeks: Blushing, Bold, Curved, Dimpled, Bold, Curved, Dimpled, Disturbed, Glorious, Glowing, Hairless, High (cheekbones), Hollow, Honey, Livid, Pale, Pallid, Pink, Plump, Puffy, Radiant, Reddened, Rosy, Rounded, Ruddy, Shining, Smooth, Soft, Sun-burnt, Sun-bronzed, Sunken, Sun-tanned, Tanned, Tearful, White
Chin: Angular, Bony, Bumpy, Chiseled, Defined, Doughy, Firm, Protruding, Round, Smooth, Soft, Square, Strong
Ears: Jug-like, Large, Protruding, Tiny
Eyebrows: Arching, Bushy, Emphasized, Near, Spaced, Thick, Thin
Eyelashes: Artificial, Beaded, Beautiful, Blinking, Dark, Dark-fringed, Dense, Dusky, Heavily-fringed, Long, Mascaraed, Sandy, Sooty, Sopping, Tear-drenched, Thick, Uplifted
Eyes: Almond-shaped, Bright, Bulging, Expressive, Frightened, Gentle, Languishing, Little, Luminous, Made-up, Round, Shining, Shortsighted, Smart, Stunned, Thin, Wide, Woeful
Face: Baby, Blood-stained, Bold, Chiseled, Contorted, Dead, Expressionless, Fair, Familiar, Fierce, Flat, Frightened, Furrowed, Honest, Indifferent, Little, Pale, Poker, Pretty, Radiant, Rough, Ruddy, Sallow, Square, Stained, Swollen, Trim, Weather-beaten, Wry
Feet: Athlete's, Big, Flat, Pigeon-toed, Small, Sore, Stinky, Stubby, Swollen
Fingers: Gnarled, Long, Short, Stubby
Finger Nails: Bitten, Broken, Claw-like, Dirty, Hooked, Long, Painted, Sharp, Talon-like
Hair: Afro, Bald, Beehive, Braided, Bristles, Bun, Chignon, Coiffure, Combed, Corkscrew, Corn rows, Cowlicked, Crew cut, Curly, Disarrayed, Disheveled, Dreadlocks, Dry, Flattop, Flecked, French braid, French twist, Fringe, Greasy, Grizzled, Knotted, Layered, Locks, Matted, Messed up, Mohawk, Mussy, Muttonchops, Neat, Oily, Page boy, Perm, Pigtails, Plait, Pompadour, Ponytail, Ragged, Receding, Ringlets, Ruffled, Shaggy, Shorn, Shoulder-length, Skinhead, Spiky, Split-ended, Straight, Tangled, Thick, Thinning, Tidy, Topknot, Tousled, Twisted, Uncombed, Unshorn, Untidy, Wavy, Wiry, Wisps
Hand: Big, Elegant, Small
Height: Big, Knee-high, Medium, Short, Shoulder-high, Sky-high, Small, Tall, Towering, Waist-high
Legs: Amputated, Bandy, Bony, Bowed, Brawny, Bulging, Fluted, Gartered, Gouty, Graceful, Hacked, Hairy, Jagged, Knotted, Leaden, Long, Lower, Muscular, Pitiful, Rickety, Shapely, Shivering, Short, Sinewy, Slender, Slim, Spindle, Stockinged, Sturdy, Thin, Thread-like, Tinder, Tiny, Toothsome, Tree trunks
Lips: Blue, Cracked, Cupid's Bow, Downturned, Dry, Fat, Full, Grim, Large, Luscious, Parched, Parted, Red, Ruby, Small, Smiling, Thin, Wet
Mouth: Arch, Ascetic, Baby, Cavernous, Churning, Compressed, Cooing, Coral, Cracked, Cruel, Delicate, Dumpled, Distended, Dry, Fine, Firm, Frothy, Full, Funnel-shaped, Gaping, Grim, Handsome, Hungry, Insistent, Irritable, Large, Luscious, Munching, Musty, Perilous, Puckered, Querulous, Relaxed, Resolute, Sardonic, Sensuous, Serious, Slobbering, Small, Sulky, Sweet, Tender, Thin, Wide, Winsome, Wrinkled, Yawning
Neck: Bullnecked, Elegant, Long, Short, Swan-like, Thick
Palm: Broad, Oval, Rectangular, Square
Skin: Acned, Alabaster, Albino, Apricot, Black, Blemished, Blistered, Blooming, Blotchy, Blushing, Bronzed, Cadaverous, Calloused, Caramel, Clear, Craggy, Cream, Ebony, Fair, Flush, Freckled, Glowing, Greasy, Ivory, Jaundiced, Leathery, Lily-white, Lined, Milky, Mottled, Nut-brown, Olive, Pale, Pallid, Pasty, Peeling, Pimpled, Pink, Pitted, Pockmarked, Red, Rosy, Rough, Ruddy, Russet, Sallow, Scabby, Scarred, Smooth, Splotchy, Spotty, Sun-burnt, Tan, Wan, Waxen, White, Wrinkled, Yellow
Stomach: Bulging, Distended, Empty, Firm, Flabby, Flat, Heroic, Hollow, Lean, Paunchy, Protruding, Unbounded
Teeth: Artificial, Black, Blunted, Buck, Canine, Chattering, Clenched, Clinched, Compressed, Crooked, Dagger-like, Dazzling, Decayed, Deciduous, Extracted, False teeth, Feeble, Ferocious, Filed, Flashing, Fluoridated, Foam-laced, Fractured, Gap-toothed, Gleaming, Glistening, Glittering, Gnashing, Goofy, Grinding, Hooked, Horrid, Ivory, Jagged, Lacquered, Large, Milky, Mottled, Neglected, Pearly, Perfect, Pretty, Protruding, Razor-like, Sharp, Shining, Short, Small, Snowy, Sore, Spaced, Straight, Sweet tooth, Tender, Tiny, Toothless, Toothy, Ugly, Unrelenting, White, Wisdom, Wolfish, Yellow
Hope this helps! If it does, do tag me or send me a link to your writing. I'd love to read your work.
More: On Character Development
#anonymous#character development#character building#langblr#writeblr#linguistics#words#writers on tumblr#spilled ink#dark academia#writing reference#literature#writing prompt#poetry#poets on tumblr#character inspiration#original character#character design#writing inspo#writing inspiration#writing ideas#fiction#writing resources
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#jewelry#red#hematite#fringe earrings#handmade#earrings#beaded jewelry#long earrings#seed beads#gift for women
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eddie ‘monstercock’ munson, who is painfully unaware of the sheer size of his dick.
tw: sexual content 18+ minors dni, size kink, oral m receiving, piv sex, praise kink, dirty talk, general debauchery. for my love @raccoonboywrites
and, listen, you’re not a size queen at all. don’t care much for how big or small a cock is so long as whoever it’s attached to knows how to use it. but you gasp out loud once you get your fingers dig under eddie’s waistband, pulling the offending material down to let his length spring out.
it’s enough to shock you back into the room, watching as the thick weight of it slaps against eddie’s tummy, the way it curves into his navel. he’s wet, leaking at the head and matting down the pretty swirls of black hair that lead a trail down, down, down.
he’s rumpled against your bed frame, slumped down with his shirt rucked up his tummy. the prettiest pink flush spreading across his cheeks, tinging his ears and dipping as low as his collar. you’re willing to bet his chest is blotched with the lovely rosy colour, too. he grips aimlessly at your comforter, wide eyes watching your every move; tracing every hitch of your breath.
you wrap your hand around the base — purposely ignoring the pathetic little whine eddie makes, because jesus now isn’t the time to think too much about that — and you moan despite yourself when your hand doesn’t even wrap fully around the girth of it, dwarfing your fingers and palm.
“you— you’re so big, oh my god,” your voice catches at the end, desperate and dampened by your own desire for it. you lean forward, hot breath ghosting over him, tugging his foreskin back just enough for the head to pop out, shiny and reddening with need, “you could’ve at least warned me you were packing a python down there, fuck.”
“oh shit, really? i thought it was aver— holy fuck, you don’t have to—“ he’s bug eyed, eyebrows shooting under his fringe as you mouth at the head, determined and eager to get a taste of him. uncut, heavy on your tongue, the heady splash of precum blurting out to coat your tastebuds.
eddie’s knees kick up a little as you mouth greedily at his tip, pointing your tongue to run in circles around the glans on the underside. you smirk despite yourself, getting a kick out of it when eddie goes a little cross eyed, burying a ringed hand into your hair.
you indulge yourself, feeling the weight of him in your mouth as you sink lower, just far back enough as to not trigger your gag reflex. your lips wrapping around his hot flesh, suckling softly, reveling in each blurt of pearlescent release that drips onto your tongue.
“baby, sweetheart — fuck,” eddie gasps, breath shuddery, lightly pulling at your tresses to test the water. his mouth falling open into a quiet moan when your eyes flutter at the feeling, “y’can- y’can take more, right? s’not… s’not that big.”
your jaw cracks under what of him you’ve fit in, which truthfully isn’t much. despite your efforts, there’s still a good three inches of eddie’s cock left untouched by hand or mouth, and you really have to wonder if he’s that clueless of his size. you pull off with a wet pop, strings of saliva keeping you connected to him as you stare up with wet orbs.
“eddie, you’re huge.” your voice is wrecked, butterflies swirling in your tummy as you make eye contact with him once again. you flush under his debauched gaze, "i— shit. nobody's ever told you before?"
eddie shrugs, considers for a moment. you don't think he's aware of the fact he's holding you in place with his hand, gripping your hair just enough to keep you still, hovering over his dick just close enough that if he wanted to, he could push you back down, get your mouth back on him.
though, that’s clearly not what he wants. because, he’s slipping the hand from your hair, doing this kind of awkward dance as he lays you out where he wants you.
you end up on your back, thighs spread wide as eddie slots between them, mouthing hotly at your neck. his fingers graze along your flushed skin, dance on your hipbone, across your pelvis. dips those godforsaken fingers into your panties, carelessly fumbling over your sopping wet pussy.
“this is okay, right?”
“it’s all okay, eddie. anything you want.”
"not— not even touched you yet and you're already this wet?" eddie's voice is a low timbre against your skin, has you arching up into his touch with a soft little moan. he sounds shocked, no heat or teasing in his words.
"can't help it," you gasp, exhaling shakily when eddie swipes two fingers over your clit deftly, unable to hide his smile at how receptive you are, "feeling the size of you in my hand — my mouth, god. would've let you choke me with it, would've thanked you."
eddie buries his face into your cleavage, poorly concealing a choked whine. he's skillful with his fingers, working you over fast despite how much your words are clearly affecting him.
your hips rock in short little circles, fingers sinking into eddie's hair, tugging lightly at the nape of his neck. you whine, body set alight with the feeling of calloused fingers grazing the small bundle of nerves.
he's biting you, brandishing you with little blooming bruises, and with the noise he makes against your damp skin you'd think it was him getting touched like this, him hurtling towards the edge.
you're so wet that the slick noises of eddie's fingers on your pussy are deafening in your ears, causing your back to prickle with heat, tummy winding tight.
the hot, heavy flesh of his cock presses against your inner thigh, shocking loud moans from you both at the same time. you arch up into his touch, ears ringing as pleasure takes over your body.
"i— you're making me cum," you gasp breathily, a static feeling warming your body, eyes rolling into the back of your head. you grapple for eddie's hair once more, tugging with a ferocity as your release washes over you.
it's. something. you feel like you're fucking floating, and eddie keeps swirling his fingers perfectly, whispering little shocked praises and keening into your rough pulling as he wrings you out.
once eddie's sure you're done with the aftershocks of your orgasm, he hazards pushing two fingers into your soaked cunt, and you're practically shooting away with overstimulation. crying out, somehow swivelling your hips and pushing down onto his fingers further once the shock wears off.
"you're a shit," you gasp, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes, "god, might've known your dick was gonna be big, fuckin' size of your fingers."
"was— was that good for you? can i, shit can i?" eddie's desperate, rutting the thick outline of his cock against your thigh. he's never stopped fucking leaking, soaking your leg in milky precum and allowing the slip and slide to feel good.
you nod, shaky hands tilting his head up so you can finally, finally, get your mouth on his. eddie's whole body presses flush against yours, his hand coming out to stabilise himself so he doesn't crush you, and fuck.
it's so charged, like he can't stilt his emotions as he snakes his tongue into your mouth, lapping at your own wetly. it's probably disgusting, doesn't feel like it though — you'd swallow his spit happily, whenever he wanted, if it meant he kept making you feel like this.
eddie's shaky hand fumbles for the base of his cock as you continue kissing, positioning himself so that he's nestled prettily between your legs. the kisses turn languid, and he almost sounds pained when he next speaks, "s-sorry. if it, if it hurts."
"let it hurt, i want it to," your demeanor falters a little, turning doe eyed and pleading as eddie slides the ruddy head of his cock up and down the seam of your cunt, flirts with the idea of pushing the tip in just to watch you gasp and keen.
"would never," eddie promises, finally — fucking, finally — pushing the first few inches into the sopping wet heat of your pussy. he cries out when you clench around him unwittingly, and you mumble out a small sorry as you adjust.
it's. not good. it's not bad, either, but fuck. you feel like you're being split from the inside, the thick tip pushing you wider than you anticipated. your fingers grapple for eddie's biceps, nails digging in tightly, "so fucking big, oh my god, you're gonna split me in half."
you're breathless and eddie catches on, panics a little, "you're okay? you're okay, right? i can sto—"
"if you stop, i swear to god," you seethe, looking at eddie with a fierce spark in your eyes, "keep going. fuck. keep going."
before long and with a little bit of resistance, eddie's buried deep inside of you. your bodies roll against one anothers, shallow, slow breaths
it starts slow, the catch and drag of eddie's cock shocking you both into silence. but, before long, your pussy catches up with the programme, gushing wet and allowing eddie to push in further with each thrust.
it's intimate, erotic.
"you're so tight," eddie all-out whimpers, head falling and shoulders shaking as he fucks you at a lazy pace, clearly trying his best to hold out for as long as he can.
"fuck, you’re so gentle,” you try, knees squeezing eddie’s narrow waist, thighs encapsulating him, “you can go quicker. not gonna break me.”
eddie shakes his head, almost like he’s bewildered. looks at you all fucking soft, clearly can’t help the rut of his hips as he buries in deep, biting his inner lips to muffle his noises.
you grasp a hold of eddie's hand with nimble fingers, guide his hand over the softness of your tummy, let him push down where his cock is buried deep inside of you. his whole body shudders, and you can feel where he kicks up.
"practically in my guts," you wheeze, unable to shake the full feeling despite how your pussy gushes for him, so full you swear you feel him in your throat with every deep thrust he can muster, "you're s-so big, eddie."
"oh— jesus, can't do shit like that. can't say shit like that," eddie grunts desperately, rutting into you and gripping for your waist tightly, other hand still pushed down on the pudge of your belly, "gonna make me cum so, so quick."
"can feel every ridge of you, you're splitting me apart," you keen, "i can't— god, you've ruined me f-for anyone else. yours, yours, m'yours."
eddie's forehead slumps against your own, and you're panting into each others mouths more than anything else, lips barely brushing, "mine, you're mine." he agrees, though he sounds pained and submissive as he says it.
your hand snakes around eddie's neck, holding him in place as he fucks you so desperately, so rough you're rattling the stupid bedframe, and you don't think you've ever felt anything like this before. it's all-consuming, the tug between sore and soul-crushingly sensual.
your second orgasm hits you like a freight train, the constant press against your spot causing a quicker build up than you could've anticipated. you both make eye contact as you come with a muted gasp, nails scraping harshly at the soft skin on eddie's neck as you rock it out.
"didn't think you could get any tighter, god," eddie whimpers, eyes squeezing shut, finger-shaped bruises sure to be left on your hips as he fucks you in some sort of reckless abandon, "fuck, i'm so close. i'm so sorry, fuck, fuck."
you nod, understanding, the wet clap of skin on skin deafening as your release allows an even smoother glide. he's fucking ethereal above you, covered in a light sheen of sweat, mouth open in a constant stream of steady moans.
you reach between where both of your bodies meet, where the final few inches don't quite fit, spreading your fingers either side of his cock to allow friction as he fucks in and out rapidly, chasing his high.
eddie looks at you with a wild expression, eyebrows shooting up into his fringe. he grunts like a fucking animal, eyes drifting down to where your hand is, "you— you— i'm cumming, holy fuck—!"
he's loud when he comes, full body wracked with it. you feel his cock pulse and kick inside of you, painting your insides deep. the moan you let out at the feeling is hardly voluntary, so pathetic you flush hot when you realise just how loud you are.
"thank you, thank you," eddie's mumbling against your skin, kissing the side of your neck softly as he comes down, "god, you're perfect. so perfect."
you shudder, overcome with this sappy fucking fond feeling, allowing eddie to collapse on top of you once he's done. it's soft, domestic, even.
you both end up in some sort of gross, body fluid covered cuddle as you calm down. blissed out in the post-orgasmic haze, and fuck.
maybe you're in love with him.
#eddie munson smut#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson fic#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson blurb#eddie munson x you#eddie munson drabble#my fanfic#mine#x reader
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i’m jurying applications for this residency for First Nations, Métis, and Inuit artists and one of the applicants is Indigenous Kashmiri like did they even read the guidelines for the residency? it said it’s specifically for FNMI right in the first sentence.
so for any Indigenous folks from outside of Turtle Island please understand that your personal Indigenous identity does NOT grant you access to First Nations, Métis, and Inuit opportunities, and when you come here you are a settler on these lands.
#this reminds of this bolivian beader who took a beadwork workshop opportunity and didn’t teach any cultural beadwork#like that workshop would have way better served the cree and métis communities of yeg but no you had to take this opportunity#and make shitty non culturally specific fringe earrings#if they had done aymara beadwork then i would have been more ok with it but they hadn’t been beading very long only like a year#fnmi issues
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after the game - wooyoung x fem!reader (18+)
⚾️ pairing: wooyoung x fem!reader
⚾️ warnings: pure smut (18+), no plot lmao, daddy kink, heavy breeding kink, housewife kink, explicit language, gentle dom vibes, hint of sub reader, not proofread 👀
⚾️ summary: after seeing his wife interact with the kids at the baseball game, wooyoung wants one of his own.
⚾️ a/n: still trying out the lowercase text! this is puuuuure smut with no plot, so i hope you guys are okay with that lmao. also, i am madly in love with wooyoung and that baseball game did not help 😮💨
my masterlist
This is a work of fiction and is not meant to represent real events or the actual personalities of any K-pop idols mentioned. All characters and situations are purely imaginary. This story is created for entertainment purposes only, and no harm or disrespect is intended toward the idols or their fans. Enjoy!
it all started with a baseball game.
now, wooyoung’s black jersey and pants are strewn on your bedroom floor, along with your sundress and thong. the pair of you barely made it to the bedroom, bodies intertwined as soon as you got home.
he’s still slightly sweaty from the heat, refusing to shower until he’s had his fill of you. he’s been hard for hours, and he’s not stopping until you both get your fix.
all you can do now is pant beneath him, his thick cock stretching you to the brink. the fringe of his grown-out hair hangs over his hooded eyes, which are focused on your sopping cunt.
he bites his lip at the sight, fascinated by your wetness coating his shaft. your steady moans keep him going, like music to his ears.
“that feel good, baby?” he teases, pushing further into you, knowing that you’re on cloud 9. you can feel every ridge of his cock, the closeness sending a shudder down your spine.
“sh-, shit, yes,” you huff, “feels so good, woo,” you whine, lifting up to meet his lips.
it’s sloppy and wet, both of you focused on the intense pleasure. the way his tongue delves into your mouth makes your pussy even wetter. he’s like a starved man, ravaging your body for whatever you can give him.
“fuck, this pussy is so damn tight,” he groans, breaking the kiss. the sight of him wetting his fingers makes your eyes roll back. when he starts rubbing tight circles on your clit, you know you won’t be able to hold back for long.
“uh, woo, please,” you whine, unsure of what you’re actually asking for. you’re so close, but you don’t want this to end. he lets out a cocky laugh, carrying above the slick sounds of his sharp thrusts.
“i know, baby, i know.” he slows down a bit, making sure you feel all of him. he loves the way your face contorts, getting off on your pleasure.
“h-harder, please,” you beg, lifting your hips to meet his thrusts. you moan out when he leans down, slower thrusts allowing him to grind against your clit.
you let out a gasp, hands suddenly pinned to the mattress beneath you. he’s staring at you intently, wanting to see the moment you fall apart.
“look at me when i’m fucking you.” his serious tone makes your pussy throb. when you meet his eyes, you’re enthralled by his beauty.
his tanned cheeks are flushed, brows furrowed in concentration. his full bottom lip is between his teeth, another sign of the harsh way he drills into your pussy. a warm shiver spreads over your body, further turned on by the hungry look in his eyes.
“there’s my pretty girl,” he hums, love-filled smile briefly breaking through his dominant demeanor. you whine when he pulls his cock out, sitting up to find out why he stopped.
you sweep your eyes over his body, appreciating the beauty of your husband. his lean body before you, muscular thighs bent at the knee, sitting back on his heels.
his veiny hand grips the base of his cock, tapping it on your clit. he makes a show off stroking himself, loving the way to stare at him. your thighs quiver, the sight of him making your pussy clench around nothing.
he pants, rolling his head back at the way your wetness clings to his tip. each tap of his sensitive head against your clit drives him wild.
“woo, please,” your voice cuts through to him, breaking his trance. with one last drag from your clit to your opening, he nestles his cock into you, the squelch filling the quiet of your bedroom.
“fuck, gonna cum soon,” he grunts, his thighs slapping against your thick ones.
“me too,” you squeal, feeling more of your wetness leak onto his hard cock. lifting up, you trace your tongue along the vein in his neck, the sensation making his cock jump inside of you.
“gonna cum in this pussy, make you a proper housewife,” your eyes roll back at his words, excited by the mention of his breeding kink.
“y-yes, please,” you squeal, bringing your hips up, matching the pace of his thrusts.
“want me to fill you up?” he huffs, pinning your wrists again. “maybe i should just cum in this pussy and get you pregnant, hm?”
“f-fuck woo! i’m cumming!” you squeal, eyes shutting at the immense pleasure. he keeps fucking you through your orgasm, rolling his hips into your clit, prolonging your pleasure.
“that’s right baby, cum for daddy,” he groans, thrusts getting sloppy at the sight of your fucked out expression. your pussy feels even wetter around him, the lewd noise pushing him further to the edge. your hand comes up to tweak his nipple, before running your manicured nails down his abs.
“you look so pretty for me, woo,” you hum, turning your head to press a kiss to his flexed arm.
“shit, i’m close,” he whines, hips losing their rhythm. you wrap your arms around his neck, meeting him with a sweet kiss before you pull away.
“wanna feel you cum inside me, woo,” you purr, looking up at him with doe eyes. “wanna feel you in me all night,” you look straight into his eyes, already seeing his orgasm wash over him.
“fuuuuuuuck,” he pants, warm spurts of cum flooding your wrecked pussy. you soothe him during his orgasm, stroking every part of him you can get your hands on.
when you’ve both come down, wooyoung is quick to hop up, much to your dismay.
“wooooooo,” you whine out, missing his warmth already.
“i know, baby, it’s okay,” he coos, running into the bathroom to grab a washcloth for you. when he comes back, he’s very gentle, carefully cleaning your sensitive folds. he finishes off with a soft kiss to your thigh, finally taking his place beside you again.
he pulls you into him, your sweaty bodies cuddled together beneath the sheets. your little yawn makes him chuckle, heart full of love at your cuteness.
“did i tire my baby out?” he teases, lifting your chin so he can see those pretty brown eyes. your smile is bashful, always feeling a little shy after a particularly strong orgasm. he smothers you kisses, unable to contain his love for you.
“speaking of babies,” you murmur, now causing a blush to spread across his face. “hello, mr. breeding kink,” you tease him, having fun with his embarrassment.
“you just looked so sweet today with all the kids. it made me start thinking about our future kids,” he confesses, tracing his finger along your cheek. you feel your heart skip at his confession, trying to fight back the sudden tears in your eyes.
“jagi, what’s wrong?” he hums, brows furrowing at your tears. he’s afraid for a second, hoping his confession hasn’t made you uncomfortable.
“nothing baby, i was thinking the same thing today,” you pout, so in love with the man in front of you.
you share a kiss so sweet it almost makes your heart burst. wooyoung’s lips are soft against yours, setting a slow pace. you both savor the feeling, never tiring of sharing your affection.
you’re both breathless when you pull away, giggling under the sheets like teenagers.
“so, maybe we should keep practicing,” he smirks, covering your body with his own. it’ll be a while until the both of you leave the bedroom again.
#𓆩 ♡ 𓆪 ⊹ ˚˖⋆。 ra ra fics#ateez x black!reader#ateez x black reader#wooyoung x reader#wooyoung smut#ateez wooyoung#ateez imagines#ateez x reader#ateez smut#wooyoung fanfic#ateez fanfic
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save a horse, ride a cowboy
<san x fem!reader>
Choi San. Half naked. Cowboy hat. Useless ass crop vest.
Your dreams are wetter than the sweat on his chest.
a/n: no words just horny thoughts the moment choi san appeared like that in the mv and I needed to get it off my chest. 🤗
wc: 1.8K
warnings: smut. pwp, party!au, deepthroating, blowjobs, slight hair pulling, one time spanking (LMAO), orgasms, unprotected sex, creampie, it's just choi san brain rot, kinda dacryphilia?, yo it's just straight up filth that's all you need to know
taglist: @bro-atz @diamond-3 @mcarebearsstuff @choisansplushie @voicesinmyhead-rc @pre1ttyies @hwallazia @songmingisthighs @yeosangiess @sanhwajjong @interweab @mylovelymito @softwsan @yourlocaljonghoe @itza-meee @ywtf @jeon-ify @itza-meee @Miss-Fallon @hwallazia @bunnyluvr25 @eggyboy5 @owlbeforesunset @hourswithoutyou @iwishiwasthemoontonight @Haleyjoye @watermelon2319 @vampiregirl215 @ewok7attack @yunhogrippers @kibs-and-bits @Liyahbug @mikrausch @sophiemueller05 @lissiesykes @yeo-arriba @luvt0kki @vic0921 @httpseungmxn
You stare down at the man a couple of feet away, his figure too prominent to miss. He’s in a useless black cropped vest, bronze studs lined up the hems of the clothing accompanied with long fringe details that hung lower than the fucking vest itself. You barely take notice of the leather pants he wore, mostly because his arms were just there—thick and so perfectly muscled. But the star of the fucking show? His bare fucking tits. The vest barely covered jack shit, his tits just basking under the dim lights, thick and perky. Your eyes shift to his face before you start flooding the vicinity with your drool. Hell no.
San still hasn’t noticed you. Maybe it’s because of the obnoxious black cowboy hat he has on looking like it’s blocking his view or something. And he tops the look off with a simple black bandana decorated with fringes that he wraps around his neck.
You want to wrap yourself around his neck too.
Your hunky little crush still doesn’t seem to notice you blatantly ogling him since it looks like he’s engrossed in a conversation with Mingi.
The sound of a desert-themed party sounded interesting to you when your friend brought it up to you but it didn’t hook you in enough to actually garner your interest to go, that was, until your friend had offhandedly mentioned that San would be there.
You didn’t put your hopes up of course, because in your peripherals, it seemed like you weren’t the only pair of eyes just eye fucking San, and so you were satisfied letting your fantasies just stay within the confines of your brain, now just full Choi San brain rot.
And when your brain starts ringing alarms on San looking like he was looking your direction, your eyes immediately shifting to your drink. But it seems like you caught his attention.
From your peripherals, you watch him push past people, approaching you much quicker than you had liked.
“Hey, y/n, caught you staring”, he smiles cheekily.
“You’re doing it on purpose, aren’t you Choi San?”
He shrugs.
Then he mouths something, but you can’t seem to catch what, and that sentiment seems to have been written all over your face, because the smell of spicy citrus hits you, accompanied by the low rumble of San’s voice right at your ear, freezing you at your spot.
“I was saying that you’re a pretty cowgirl today.”
Shit. Fuck.
You stare up at San, tears gradually pooling at the corner of your eyes at how fucking thick this man’s cock is. But gods did it feel so fucking good to have San’s fat fucking cock shoved down your throat like that. You watch the way his abs contract when his groans are pulled out from him, the way his nipples are so fucking hard from how horny he is making you suck him off like that. Your panties are pretty much useless at this point trying to keep your slick from trickling down your thighs.
“Fuck. You’re such a good fucking girl for me aren’t you?” San groans, his fingers tugging harder against your scalp, forcing you to take his cock deeper. You manage to hum in agreement almost too quickly, and San only scoffs at your desperation, well not that he’s holding up any better. His eyes shut again, and he throws his head back, rutting his hips against your face, his moans going up in pitch, and when he happens to steal a glance at your face fucking his cock, you feel the space in your mouth fill up even more.
Only curses and moans leave San’s mouth, and there’s only so much force you can use to squeeze your thighs from holding your cunt off from leaking all over the fucking floor.
“Your mouth feels so fucking good, dollface. I can’t fucking—fuck!—can’t fucking wait to fuck your other tight little hole next”, San huffs breathlessly, his sanity dangerously dropping in levels.
With a broken, deep moan, he suddenly pulls out of your mouth, fucking his cock with his hand instead, letting his cum spill over your mouth and chest, slightly shaking from the pleasure especially when he can’t keep his eyes off you licking his cum off his cock and the corner of your lips.
You watch him catch his breath, and he’s so fucking attractive when he furrows his brows like that, but you decide to pull away to get some towels to clean yourself up.
The moment you stand and turn around, San’s arms wrap around you, pulling you close to his chest, and you realise his fingers are loosening the knot on your top, and San doesn’t waste time to yank it off your shoulders. You barely have the time to process but you realise it doesn’t fucking matter the moment his deep voice bleeds right into the crevices of your brain.
“Now where do you think you’re going babe? I said I was gonna fuck your other hole next, wasn’t I?”
No more butterflies in your stomach anymore, it’s probably a whole ecosystem at this point.
San’s fingers intertwine with yours, unfortunately, he doesn’t let it stay a second more fluffy when he has you on the bed, his thick fingers tugging off every single useless piece of clothing off you. San licks his lips when he’s greeted with the sight of your pussy just so fucking wet and leaking for him. His eyes meet yours, and he looks like he’s about to eat you up any second.
“How much do you like walking straight?” He asks, his fingers trailing a fucking blaze down your thighs, and you watch the way his cock hardens—the way precum from his silt is mixing with the thick cum from before when his thumb tugs against your wet folds.
He looms over you, fingers keeping your legs spread wide open for him, his pants pulled lower, his half-hard cock resting on your inner thigh.
“Not much of a fan”, you reply, realising that trying to snap your legs shut with Choi San’s fingers in between them was a stupid idea.
“Good”, is all San replies before he pushes his thick cock right into your pussy, and you swear he’s knocked out all the wind from you at the way his thick cock slid in, filling your whole fucking pussy up. You gasp, fingernails digging into his arms, but he doesn’t even seem to take notice. But what he does take notice of is the way you’re fluttering around him, so fucking dazed at the way his cock feels in you.
“So fucking good, San”, it leaves your lips as a whine.
He exchanges a smile, “Your tight pretty pussy, and it’s all for me.”
Your eyes roll back when he pulls out slightly and thrusts into you again, and again, until the sounds grow wetter, louder, and San fucks you harder, making you wonder if you were gonna lose your legs or mind first. The sensations are completely melting off the neurons of your brain, and your hands are pressing against his chest, feeling his heart beating wildly. You feel your face flush slightly, wondering if he feels the same way as you do.
Your thoughts are completely cut short when you feel his fingers curl around your neck, forcing you to look up at him when he lets his lips melt against yours. Your tongues meet, and you taste very light hints of alcohol underneath the sweetness. Soft moans pour out of San, and he’s only getting thicker inside of you as he lets your hands rake through his short locks.
“You’re like fucking heaven, you know that?” San whispers as he pulls back. The sweetness lasts for a second until he adds on, “And I wanna drag you down with me, baby.”
His arms are around you and he lifts you, in one swift motion, he has you straddling his hips, and you do him a favour by getting his pants off him. San pretty much kicks the remainder of his pants off, his arms pull you by your thighs to his once more, and you’re hoping you don’t drool because something about San being fully naked beneath you, only his vest barely covering his fat tits, just ready for you to fucking ride him was sending you into a fucking orbit.
And even when you’re dripping and stretched open for San, the feeling of his cock splitting you open from below only threatened your remaining sanity. You watch San bite his lip, holding himself back from just bursting into you, also evident from the way his fingers are pressing hard against your thighs.
But when you start grinding against him, he realises he probably isn’t gonna last much longer.
And when his cock hits your spots for the nth time from below, your cunt flutters without warning, and the knot snaps before you could even say anything, your orgasm hitting you like a fucking tidal wave.
And San isn’t slowing down.
His face is in complete bliss—muttering curses and releasing moans,
“Ah, fuck. That’s a good fucking girl, cumming all over my cock like that”, he hisses, feeling you pulsate around him helplessly as he continues to fuck into you, forcing you to continue bouncing off his cock.
Tears bubble at the corner of your eyes once more from the sheer pleasure the moment you feel San hold your ass down, your arms wrapped tightly around him, feeling his cock twitch and spurt warm cum right into your poor hole. Wait. Something feels funny. You swallow hard, hoping, praying he doesn’t do anything because you swear something might just break in you if he does.
“S-San, wait it’s too much-“
You’re barely holding it together, and it all falls apart when his palm lands an impact right on your ass, forcing another wave of orgasm to hit you even harder this time, a strained cry leaving your throat, your pussy completely pushing San’s cock out, your hips lifting off him as you squirt all over his thighs, San’s cum spurting out alongside the clear liquid. San watches the way your eyes are screwed shut, your tears trickling down your cheeks, the way your body violently shakes while he soothes you with his palm up and down your back, and he thinks he’s in love.
As you descend from your high, San captures your lips with his, humming soft praises of taking him so well once he pulls away, letting you lie on his chest.
“I guess you're my pretty cowgirl tonight ”, he teases, letting you hit his chest playfully.
San’s arm snakes around your waist as the both of you slowly make your way to the front door, catching the gaze of the partygoers, and he leans in as the both of you walk, low enough to reach your ears,
“I’ll make good use of the bandana next time too, so tell me doll face, how close do you like your wrists to be?”
#ateez#ateez scenarios#ateez fanfic#ateez imagines#ateez x reader#ateez smut#smut#ateez fic#kpop smut#choi san smut#choi san#choi san ateez#ateez choi san#choi san x reader
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hybrids. wool shearing. manipulation. brief cannibalism. referenced breeding. female anatomy.
farmer! price and his sheep girl. the most special of the flock — not only because you’re all woman beneath those patches of wool, or because your floppy ears and curly fringe compliment your face so well, but because you’re so docile and sweet and mouldable under his hand. give into his will better than any human can, eyes shiny and dumb. trusting, when he leads your friends away to the slaughter. and when he collects you afterward, sleeves sticky with blood, to feed you bits of juicy meat on his lap.
though you’re a vegetarian, why would you refuse him? he’s the best at taking care of you.
like during the draw of spring, frost thawing into beds of brown to make for mud that mats your wool. he’ll shear you last but most tenderly; hose you down in his yard, cooing as you bleat in the cold, and run the tool expertly along your trembling flesh. beneath your arms. around your neck. clipping so close to your ears that the sound scares you, and you struggle mildly in his embrace, which does nothing to shake him or the firm cage wrought around your limbs.
the shears trek downwards, your legs forcefully pried apart to expose your fluffy pussy and taint to be groomed. layers of wool stripped from you in pragmatic precision. his fingers do not wander as they shave your vulva, conforming smoothly to your plump bottom. working over your groin. though you wish them to, crying stupidly when he twists your swollen clit to make sure he gets the curls nested at its base.
but he’s the best at taking care of you, of all his animals, so he does not acquiesce and feed you his cock like you so beg. ain’t mating season yet, little lamb, he hums, tucking you into bed after moisturising your softened skin. for as long as you’re naked, wool-less, he lets you sleep indoors. on a real mattress, and not the hay one that would be bound to scratch you in the most vulnerable of places. you love the spring and summer months, if only for that.
(though the prospect of mating season ignites your cotton-tail, priming you for the crisp encroach of autumn. you know that, as the most special — his favourite — he won’t pair you with any old ram. none are good enough, he’ll reason. no seed ripe enough to fatten you up, but his.)
#sheepgirl!au#im not notmal about this concept at all please do not ask me about it lest i write 12k words of sacrificial lamb reader and farmer price#hybrid!reader#john price x reader#captain john price x reader#john price
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(Leona Kingscholar x gender neutral reader)
Leona had groaned and ranted against you sleeping in his bed all night. "There's no room," he claimed while sprawled out on a mattress wide enough to fit an entire Spelldrive team. If you laid down to claim the bed's edge, he'd kick you to the carpet or nudge you over the side and quickly pretend to be asleep. The hours he spent coming up with excuses and dirty tricks would have been better spent actually sleeping.
Many times he'd yawn and repeat, "what kind of herbivore willingly crawls into the den of a beast?" while keeping you at arm's length. Every time you thought he was out cold and snuck back over, he'd swat you away. It was a raging battle of endurance.
Yet when morning came, Leona sang a completely different tune. Perhaps it was the exhaustion of staying up late. Perhaps he was just done fighting his feelings. At some point he really did fall asleep, allowing you to take over one pillow and the fringed corner of a blanket. They were temporary luxuries.
You awoke with the heavy prince on top of you, each slow breath warm against your ear as he nuzzled his chin against your shoulder. His arm curled around your head. Strands of long, dark brown hair stuck to your lips. Sunlight poured through the windows, bringing the dry heat of the day with it. You could have cooled off by moving a leg if the prince hadn't hooked his own knee over your thighs.
"Leona...?" You whispered the name. The pressure of his chest pushing down on yours made inhaling an inconvenience. Your hope that he would wake up was successfully answered by a twitch of his ear against your cheek.
"Leona, I can't breathe." Though still half asleep and uncoordinated, you felt uncomfortable. The sensation of pins and needles danced in your hands, along the bottom of your feet, and you wanted to roll over. Leona's tail tuft began to swish lazily, trailing over the hem of your shirt. Bit by bit, it helped you wake. "I want to get up."
You strained to move out from under the mass of muscles, grabbing the mattress's edge to pull yourself up. Leona huffed and buried his face further against your skin. There was an odd sensation at the base of your neck. A little damp, a little sharp, and very warm. Leona gently nipped at your throat until you stopped trying to escape.
"Did you just bite me?" Though tired, you were now fully awake and could take in more of the situation. Leona responded with a sleepy grunt. You retaliated with a couple strikes to his side, weakly aiming for the only spots within reach. "You're hot! Let me up!"
It was the wrong course of action. Leona stirred, only to move his arm across your chest and lock both legs around yours. Fingertips grasped at the fabric of your attire. "Be quiet," he grumbled, turning his face towards yours. He knew you'd talk less if your chin had to fight the weight of his head.
You were more stuck than before. "I can't move."
"Should have listened when I warned you." You were nothing more than captured prey in the lion's embrace.
Leona's chest returned to a rhythmic rise and fall as the morning birdsong lulled him back to sleep. You were going to have to put up with his body heat for a few more hours.
#do you think he sheds on you. finally get up and there's hair all over your shirt.#the benefits of a new blog mean i can reuse phrasing from my om fanfics mwuhaha#twisted wonderland#twst#twisted wonderland fanfiction#twisted wonderland headcanon#twisted wonderland fanfic#twisted wonderland writing#leona kingscholar#leona x reader#leona kingscholar x reader#leona kingscholar x yuu#twst fanfic#twst x reader#twst x yuu#twst fluff#twisted wonderland fluff#leona kingscholar fanfic#i'm not used to the twst tags i hope these work!#twisted wonderland drabble#twst drabble#twst drabbles
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prompt: forced throuple au; Ghost decides that you and Johnny are his (part 3; ghoap x reader) masterlist
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“What is this anyway—‘bring your girlfriend to work’ day?”
She’s snarky as ever, but with an agitated edge. Nerves prickling when Johnny holds her jacket out for her to slip her arms into. Even that makes her snap—something about not being a toddler that Johnny needs to help dress, but by then his head is in the clouds. In another place altogether.
The prospect of getting to parade his new girl around leaves him giddy, fox-like grin hard to squash. He doesn’t suppress anything, finds it hard to push things down. When he does, it’s often unconscious.
She doesn’t like the way he savours her anxiety like a fine wine, sniffs it from the top of her head and groans out his breath, cackling when she tries to stomp on his foot to make him go away. He dances away with her coat, light and nimble on his feet because he’s used to ducking and weaving for her affection.
“The guys wanna meet ye,” he repeats for the umpteenth time. It’s surprising how many times he’s had to say it.
“Why? Haven’t they ever met a girl before?” she gripes, swallowing now, her stomach probably cramping and poor bonnie lass, Johnny thinks. His poor, pretty girl is trying to put on a brave face when he knows she prefers being in the backroom of her little flower shop, snipping off stalks and tying pretty bows around pretty bouquets. He wishes he could keep her back there forever—put a lock on the door and come only to smother her in kisses and gorge himself on every inch of her—but there’s a whole wide world demanding his attention.
“Aye, hen, never a lass as cute and sweet as ye,” he crows, ducking a hand that punches through the sleeve of her jacket in his direction.
In the car, he drops the facade. Loses his teasing edge. It’s a violent removal, like jolting awake to the sound of someone sawing away at a catalytic converter. If his smile is saccharine, it’s really only a smokescreen concealing the apprehension bubbling away in his belly.
He drums his fingers on the steering wheel on the drive back to base. Heart in his throat, choking his words and rendering him quiet for once in his life. He hears Ghost’s voice in his head, a low rumbling laugh, tectonic plates shifting beneath his feet. These days, his voice acts as a lodestar, the thing steering Johnny home.
Months ago, it was the only thing between him and annihilation, the ice cold maelstrom dragging him deeper into its maw. Guiding him through the valley of death. The wound in his arm still aches in the first light of day. His sleep is still wracked by dreams of running down alleys and ducking into houses, the rain pattering against the window panes ominous, a ticking clock, each step having to be precise, calculated, each movement quieter than quiet, fading into the shadows, a cool heart and mind bested by agony from the bulletwound in his shoulder.
And then—Ghost’s voice, low and soothing in his ear, shattering the pain. Ghost’s voice in his ear telling him where to go, how to survive.
It’s hard to explain. Johnny’s tried. It’s like talking in circles when he opens his mouth and tries to get it out. I trust him with everything in me. He could do anything to me, anything.
He is no less capable, no less competent. His rank demands respect, and he takes what’s due to him. Since Las Almas, he’s worked across a medley of other teams, even solo a time or two. It changes nothing. He still wakes in a sweat, chasing that voice. It takes him back into the real world. The days burn into the fringes of a memory that he is always living.
“Should I know anyone’s name before we get there?”
Her voice breaks through the noise in his head this time. It’s every bit as precious.
“What d’ye mean, hen?” he asks, clucking his tongue. Sweats a bit when he realizes how far down the motorway they are now, how long it’s been since he checked out, lost in his thoughts. One hand rests loose on her leg, fingers spread wide and thumb gliding up and down her outer thigh, the other still holding the wheel.
The pinched look has mostly fallen off from her face, but there’s still a tremble in her lower lip when she says, “Well, I don’t know any of your friends. I wouldn’t introduce you to my friends without telling you their names first.”
“No’ my friends, hen—we’re coworkers.”
She looks over at him from the corner of her eye. “I’m friends with my coworkers.”
Johnny shrugs. “It’s no’ the same with guys. Couldnae tell you fuck all about any of them except their names, to be honest.”
“Oh, don’t give me that—you’re not friends with a single one of them? No one?”
No hunger without resistance. His mouth goes bone dry. He’d be wise to learn that.
He swallows. “Maybe a few.”
No transaction without accountability. Ghost saves his life and now Johnny has to pay that debt back tenfold. Sinking into the crease of Simon’s voice late at night, clutching it to his chest. Breathing it out. Maybe they are friends.
He’s a bit show-offy at the base gates, dangling his ID card out the window pinched between two fingers. The civilian guard on duty just waves him on, scanning it only for the sake of the logs. His tires spin in the dirt when he guns it down the stretch of road leading into the base, windows still all the way down. Her hair whips around in the wind until she gathers it all up in her fist and shrieks at him to roll the windows up.
Johnny enjoys showing off. That’s a core aspect of who he is, his charm. Braggadocious, confident in the way he looks, his physical prowess, his lot in life—so why would that change with his girl? He holds her close with an arm around her waist when he drags her through the rec centre, the building closest to where they parked.
He gets lost in conversation for longer than expected. Pure gloating about the girl he’s managed to bag. Cooing in her ear when he feels her get a bit uneasy, still timid around the other guys despite having him at her side. He supposes that’s fair. She’s more comfortable around the women on base, a bit freer with her greeting and questions, but there’s still a pinch in her brow that never smooths all the way over.
It takes a while to find anyone that he knows. There are plenty of sergeants and corporals that he’s worked with before, familiar faces and names, but Johnny still glances around the room while they make light conversation with his girl, searching. Looking for something familiar, something that’ll reel him in, make him perk up like a dog catching a scent.
They cross Gaz in a random hallway on the way to the comm centre, hardly recognizable at first with the darker stubble of his beard grown out. He must’ve just come back from wherever he’d been shipped off to the month previous, no time to shave or clean up. He even smells of old sweat when Johnny leans in for a hug.
“Is this—?” Gaz glances over at her just once while the question dangles in the air. He looks back over at Johnny.
They lock eyes. A silent exchange of meaning.
“Aye,” Johnny nods, steering her in front of him with both hands on her shoulders, showing his girl off like a kid with a new toy. Eyes glinting like, don’t say a word. “Brought her in to meet everyone.”
A molasses slow smile spreads across Gaz’s face. It’s clear why men like him always get the girl. Johnny’s hands tighten on her shoulders. “Nice to meet you—thought John would hide you away forever.”
She glances up at him through her lashes. “You talked about me?”
Gaz shakes his head. “Not as much as you’d think. Took Ghost ages to get it out of him.”
Johnny flushes. “Did no’. Jus’ ‘cause I don’ blab about everything under the fuckin’ sun doesnae mean—”
“John says you’re a florist,” Gaz interrupts, turning the conversation back to her. Her lips split up into a mischievous little grin, delighted at the turnabout, probably delighted at seeing Johnny stumble over his words.
Something about her teasing grin gets his dick hard. More points to the rapidly disintegrating belief that he doesn’t have a humiliation kink. He leans forward, pressing it into her ass, delighted himself when she shoots him a dirty look over her shoulder but doesn’t pull away.
“So, where’s everybody?” Johnny asks casually, trying not to make it too obvious who he’s referring to. The look Gaz gives him is unimpressed. He keeps running into that brick wall, his thoughts written out on his forehead, obvious to everyone around him.
“Everyone?” Gaz repeats sceptically.
“Aye.” His voice is tight, warning. “Everyone.”
“Ghost’s actually on his way here now, I think. We got called over to HQ—s’where I was headed, actually.”
“I dinnae say anything about Ghost, now did I—,” Johnny grumbles, but the words dissolve in his mouth when the man in question comes into the room.
Sometimes, Johnny has the pleasure of seeing Ghost round a corner. The split second pleasure of being the observer, of dragging his eyes up and over, his chest bursting with a light like dawn cresting behind mountains and splitting the sky. In the field, he’s often deprived of that; becomes used to experiencing the phenomenon of Ghost melting out of the shadows, sometimes scaring the daylights out of him.
It’s what happens now though. Glancing up on a whim only to see a man round the corner of the hallway leading out of the rec centre, shirt stretched out maddeningly over his arms and chest, muscles bulging like he just came from the gym, still pumped. The shirt’s a little threadbare, something old and worn, and Johnny’s seen it a million and a half times he figures; it leaves so little to the imagination that he’s joked about Ghost busting it at the seams from time to time, only to be met with a steady, aloof stare.
There’s something to be said about how he’s drawn to people who refuse to scratch him behind the ears until he’s more than proven himself. He works tirelessly for Ghost’s approval, for his girl’s approval. Dogs with their bones, tigers with their stripes.
He has a balaclava pulled over his face, just a simple black one this time, the underside of his eyes darkened by eyeblack hastily scrubbed off the night before, probably. His eyes scan the crowd, locking on Johnny and Gaz almost instantly. It’s the mark of a good soldier—he doesn’t flounder in the dark. Always finds his target, like a sixth sense for knowing when he’s being watched.
Ghost course-corrects upon noticing them, crossing the room in a handful of seconds. The curt, “Johnny,” he gets is a bounty, a treasure. He grins back when Ghost glances down at the girl at his side. “That your bird?”
“Told ye I’d bring her in—s’long as everyone’s on their best behaviour, of course.”
Gaz snorts. “Good luck with that.”
Ghost must cock an eyebrow because he can see the fabric of his mask shift. “Pretty.”
He can’t help the way he preens at that. Tucked away by his side again, Johnny can feel his girl squirm, but he pays it no mind. She’s shy—he’s known that from day one, from the first time she stumbled out from the back of the flower shop and scrunched her nose up at his attempts at flirting.
Admiration is a smooth, buttery feeling. It keeps him aloft while another couple of servicemen take interest in their conversation and come over, Johnny’s girl at the centre of everyone’s attention. He’d be pricklier about it if he didn’t have a firm hand on her waist, keeping her pressed to his side.
He soaks up the attention. Drinks it up when someone asks his girl a question and Johnny answers for her or pinches her cheek when she manages to pipe up before him. He knows he’ll get read the riot act when he takes her back home later, but he might be able to convince her to ride him while berating him for talking over her. Might beg her to slap him and spit in his mouth—say it’s the only way he’ll learn his lesson.
Dirty dog.
It strikes him that maybe he’s picked up some bad habits in recent months. He’s never been one to overthink, to worry and fret. Yet, he toils in it now, shovels coals into the furnace of it and gives it life.
His shoulders go slack, the tension finally ebbing out of him. No longer dogged by the incessant fear that his girl is going to run away, bolt at the first loud noise, or that someone’s going to pluck her up out of his arms. She seems comfortable if anything.
He’s been overthinking all of this, wrapped up in his head. He can breathe out, unclench.
When Ghost shifts to stand closer to them, he glances over because that’s where his gaze always goes these days. Seeking Ghost out, finding him in a crowd; looking for his North Star wherever he is, wherever he goes.
Only to watch in mute horror as, in plain sight, not trying to be discreet or hide it from anyone, Ghost gropes his girlfriend’s ass in front of everyone on base. Just reaches out a big hand and fondles her ass, digging his fingers into the cheek. She freezes, back ramrod straight as she stares ahead, eyes going a bit blank.
He fails whatever test this is, mouth too dry for any words to come out. Humiliation burns him from the inside out. Another sergeant that he’s worked with before frowns, glancing over at Johnny. Neither of them say a word.
Ghost tilts his head, staring down at his hand on her ass like he’s contemplating its plushness. Admiring it. With how Johnny stands on one side and Ghost the other, the two of them bracket her, like the soft centre of their trio; nowhere for her to go, a handler on either side. That’s wrong though. Ghost is not her handler—Johnny hardly is, more of a self-appointed one.
Still he—
He lets it happen.
Contention dies a bloody death in his mouth, massacred. Mangled. He lets Ghost sink his fingers into his girlfriend’s backside and hum a little under his breath before finally pulling his hand away. The others look at him, waiting for Johnny’s reaction with bated breath. A reaction that never comes because it gets strangled in Johnny’s throat.
“Nice meeting the bird,” Ghost finally says, voice a decibel lower, rough enough to scrape. “Gaz and I’ve got shit to do now. Be ready on the tarmac by oh-seven-hundred tomorrow, Johnny.”
He grips Johnny by the shoulder before heading off, like he didn’t just grope Johnny’s girlfriend. Like he didn’t just reach down and grab a handful of her ass like it was his to feel up. And Johnny just nods. A placid, docile thing under Ghost’s hand, bobbing his head like a doll.
Then Ghost leaves, Gaz trailing after him, looking back about a half dozen times to see if Johnny will suddenly follow them until he’s forced to job to catch up to Ghost, the man already yards away, longer legs carrying him fast out of the building.
They don’t talk on the drive back to her apartment, the inside of the car tense and uncertain. Johnny walks her to the door when he lets her off, but it’s a formality, a chaste kiss at the door instead of the rough fuck that he’d envisioned to send her off. Despite the hard set of her jaw, she doesn’t lambast him like Johnny expected. The silence is worse though, haunting when she shuts the door in his face.
The drive back to base after the drop off is agonizing in a whole new way. Still pent up, cock heavy in his pants, and fingers drumming over the steering wheel twice as fast now. What do I do, what do I do, what do I do? What he wants to do is turn around at the closest gap between both sides of the motorway and speed all the way back, knock on her door until his knuckles blister and bleed, until she opens the door and lets him in, lets Johnny push her to the floor in the entryway and spread her legs, welcoming him in.
Until she lets him fit his fingers into the marks left behind by Ghost’s hand.
Cold fire rising up off his bones, and then something hot. And wet.
The next day at breakfast in the mess, one of the guys says something like, “If Ghost was into my girl, that’s the last you’d see of me and her,” and his mind goes blank and he goes over the table.
#ceil writing#cod mw2#cod x reader#soap x reader#ghost x reader#ghost/reader#soap/reader#ghoap x reader#ghost/soap/reader
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Darkest Desire
Based off of this nonnie request! It’s a bit scarier than intended and I do apologise for that teehee. There’s also no smut…
Blurb: With a group of friends you visit the local Halloween Scare walk, an event that is hosted annually out in the creepy plaines of Hawkins and whilst it’s masks on for the locals, it’s very much masks off for the scare actors…
Pairing: Scare Actor!Eddie x Reader
Warnings: 18+, the holiday of Halloween is mentioned, talk of blood/gore, faux blades/knives, cursing, reader is referred to as girl, use of pet names, degrading, praising, stalking (cat&mouse), sly/cocky and slightly mean!Eddie. Characters are all 20+
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divider by @reveriesources
Crunchy dry blood orange leaves litter the earth and frost tainted wind nips at your nose and cheeks. The squeals of excited children racing by your costume clad frame fills your ears with immense joy and you giggle airily as they launch themselves into one another. Racing toward the brightly lit luminescent funfair games in hopes of winning a stuffed animal or a goldfish in a bag.
Their parents lug behind them, their attire consisting of some makeshift costume they had thrown together at the last minute in hopes of pleasing their tiny humans and earning themselves a quiet car ride without any tantrums or fuss.
Your group, on the other hand, weren’t here for the childish and conning games. You were all here for the Scare Walk.
You hadn’t agreed on a coherent group costume so it was a pick and mix of totally different genres and ideas and from an outside perspective it was abundantly clear that there was no communication on the matter whatsoever.
Steve was dressed as the main character from Nightmare On Elm Street, Freddy Kruger. Nancy clearly had helped with the makeup aspect of the costume assemble but everything else screamed Harrington. He cropped the stripped knitted jumper to better suit his athletic frame and his hair was still very much classic Steve.
Robin had taken a whole new approach, dressing up as the colourful Rubik’s Cube puzzle toy. Deriving inspiration from the colourful squares she wore a long black jumpsuit covered in humongous reflective and vibrant square sequins. She more resembled a neon glitter ball, but you gave her the benefit of the doubt.
Nancy’s body was hugged by a khaki green boiler suit that had the long legs cut off and on her back she wore a black backpack with some DIY altercations made to it. She has begged Mike to help her create her costume, and that’s how she ended up dressed as a Ghostbuster, putting a strong feminine spin on the male dominated film. You hadn’t expected anything less from Nance, she was always looking for ways to empower women and her costume made you smile. Proud.
Jonathan had chosen a much whackier costume to better fit with his personality. The pungent smell of weed radiating from his body only complimented the fluorescent green costume he was wearing and the radioactive orange bandana blindfolded over his eyes. He had opted for the beloved character from the children’s series Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles’, Michelangelo. Which shouldn’t have surprised you— but it did.
And finally, you had chosen something distinctively different from your friends. You had made the bold choice to go as a flapper girl from the 1920’s, inspired by Fitzgeralds novel The Great Gatsby. It was a bold move because you paired the costume with kitten heels and although they were small you knew by the end of the night your feet would be crying out for rest. It is a Scare Walk after all. Your body was adorned by glitter and lace and the fringe of your dress tickled at the exposed skin of your legs.
It was a bit chilly tonight, but you were having too much of a ball to really hone in and pay attention to the sharp gusts of wind. Steve and Robin were arguing over whose costume was more original and whilst Robin’s was, Steve always somehow managed to argue himself into being ‘right’.
“Talk to me when you have hand sewn a bazillion sequins onto something and not just took a pair of shears to a ratty old sweater.” Robin remarks with a smirk, crossing her arms over her chest and marching ahead of Steve.
“Hey! I’ll have you know that it was surprisingly difficult to cut this thing into a straight line— and it isn’t ratty or old, I literally bought it like two days ago.” Steve fires back with a squinted gaze as he follows closely behind Robin’s reflective beacon of light that seems to lead us through the dimness. Nancy grumbles inwardly to herself.
“Can you two stop bickering like babies? We’re here to have fun! So let’s go and do that!” She hooks her arm with yours, charging forward, “I heard that some people from campus are working here this year. I don’t know what they’re doing but isn’t that exciting? We might bump into them!” You admired how Nancy could make a good situation out of everything, however you didn’t quite share her enthusiasm for meeting people you already knew. Nancy was all about making and strengthening connections whereas you wanted to just have fun— judgement free.
And now that you knew that your peers were watching your every move you couldn’t help but feel your confidence shrink slightly and your words clam up. Dying in your throat before they could ever be heard aloud.
-
The walk started off relatively slow and rather boring. You kept mistaking your dress tickling your calf’s as insects running up the skin of your legs and Robin would giggle at the way your head was constantly shooting downward.
“You seem awfully jittery— is someone scared already?” She taunts, wiggling her eyebrows at you and grinning widely as she did.
You scoff in response, “Please. I’m nearly dozing off back here.”
An eerie dark silence falls over the group and the golden haze from the spooky funfair starts to fade into the background behind you as you venture further and deeper into the doom and gloom of night fall.
The smell of sweet popcorn no longer lingers in the hairs of your nostrils and a sinister chill runs down the back of your spine; like fingers tickling your bare skin.
“Are we sure we are sticking to the trail? It’s getting pretty dark out here— OH MY FUCKING GOD!!” Two little girls dressed in bloody dresses and horrifying makeup charge toward you from a nearby hidden brush. Their eyes glow a disturbing shade of white and they hold faux knives that still look devilishly real. You stumble backwards, nearly collapsing from shock however before you could fall to the ground you feel a hard body hit your back which makes you scream out in terror.
The figure laughs at you, jeering and sharp as you whip around to meet him and your hand is quick to find your chest. Your fingers claw at the fabric of your dress and you fist the fabric with a shaky grip. You’re panting, struggling for breath and the skull painted face looms over you for a moment too long; cocking his head to the side as he examines your costume.
That’s when you realise something. Something that you immediately recognised as a dark secret. A dark desire that should be kept hidden.
As his onyx orbs gleam and glare down at you, you feel a wave of heat feather your cold skin. Your core pulses between your thighs and your mouth hangs open in dreadful clarity; you were fucking turned on by this.
His chiselled face is painted to resemble a bare skull. White with inky dark circles that deepen his eye sockets and his cheekbones are defined with thick blended shadowy lines. His lips are painted black to match his contours and he has hand drawn on a stretched toothy smile and an empty nose cavity.
He doesn’t speak a single word.
He just stares at you. Almost as if he is furious with you.
And before long he drags himself away from you, like the simple task is deemed painful and impossible for him.
His torso is dressed in a fitted white button down shirt which is rolled up to his elbows and it exposes his tattooed forearms. On his legs he wears a simple but professional pair of black trousers paired with black suspenders that sling over his shoulders. On his feet he has combat boots supporting his ankles and some sort of padded device strapped around the joint of his knees.
You gawk at him as he skates across the concrete on his knees at an alarmingly fast rate toward another group of poor people; leaving sparks of light in his dust as they squirm and scream. Some of them even go as far to sprint off into the darkness away from him; which leaves the masked man cackling darkly and running after them.
“Holy shit! I had no idea he would be working here this year!” Steve slaps the palm of his hand onto your shoulder as he chuckles heavily and you pull away from him confused and slightly annoyed.
“Who is ‘he’ and how do you know him?” Steve’s laughter dies out slowly and his hands come to rest on his hips. A stance that he did often. The rest of the gang come to join you with curious expressions on their faces.
“Seriously? You don’t recognise him?” There’s a pause as you shake your head ‘no’ and Steve rolls his amber eyes dramatically, “That’s Eddie Munson, dipshit. He’s always smoking weed out in the courtyard on campus? Playing with the fire from the benson burner during chemistry— is this ringing any bells?” You shrug, crossing your arms defensively over your chest.
Is Eddie Munson someone you should know about?
“He has long, curly hair— not better than mine but hey, it’s definitely up there.” Steve’s hand smooths over his slicked back hair that is thick with gel and you laugh, now being able to form an image of Eddie in your mind.
“Ohh, the metal head? He sometimes walks around with his guitar slung over his back?” You reply as you begin to walk off after realising that you have all come to a stand still— and partially because you want to see Eddie again.
“Yeah! He is wicked with a guitar! I’ve seen him play.” Robin chirps from your left and Nancy hums on your right.
“He is pretty good.” Jonathan speaks through a mouthful of candy and you try to disguise your disgust as you unfortunately get a glimpse of the food on his tongue.
“Right…” is all you quietly reply as your eyes scan the bluish darkness. You can hear an owl hooting off in the distance and if it weren’t for the jump scares waiting for you, you would find this promenade quite peaceful.
Crickets whisper conversations from the tall blades of grass and you can see lanterns dotted up ahead of you. They cast ghoulish shadows all around the dirt path and your head twitches from side to side— trying to catch any of the silhouettes moving.
But they don’t.
You have strayed further ahead of the group, their voices hitting your ears in the form of muffled sounds but you don’t bother to wait on them. They are too busy laughing and booing at some of the scare actors whereas your heart is still palpitating at a ridiculous rate from the last scare.
Some of the actors were so gruesomely scary that you felt transported into your favourite slasher films whereas the others were just looming and ominous— more human. Humans are the scariest creatures after all. You fear your own kind in opposition to the unknown.
That’s why when the familiar skull skates over to you on his knees, you freeze this time. No fight or flight; just freeze. Your mouth gaping wide as his nose nearly brushes yours.
“Eddie.” His name is a breathless squeeze from your lungs as it leaves your mouth. You have to say his name aloud in order to ground your thundering heart. Were you excited or frightened? Maybe it was a mixture of both.
Whatever it was, the man stood in front of you wasn’t best pleased. His eyes narrow into irritated slits and his fingers toy with a piece of your hair— twirling it before yanking on it playfully.
Steve, Nancy, Robin and Jonathan all sprint past you in urgency. They screaming until their throats run raw as a deranged man with a faux chainsaw chases after them. Hot on their heels.
You and Eddie go unnoticed by them… and now…
Now you feel afraid.
“Y’know you aren’t supposed to address the actors personally, right?” He sneers through a tight jaw.
“He speaks.” You quip back sassily and Eddie huffs a distorted laugh.
“I’ve seen you around campus— even prettier up close. It’s a shame your attitude ruins that.” He circles you like a shark in water and you follow him. Twirling around makes you dizzy but Eddie’s chuckle makes your dizzier.
“Like a little lost lamb.” He coos, “Where are your cronies? Seems they’ve ditched.” His glove clad knuckle grazes your cheek and you flinch away from his soft touch. Taking a few steps back you widen the close distance between the two of you.
This causes Eddie to grin hugely; showing all of his teeth as he did.
“What? Don’t tell me you’re scared now?” He prowls toward you however you are quick to match every one of his steps. He takes a stride forward? You take a step back.
“You could run away if you wanted… but that’ll only entice me more. Didn’t they tell you? I love the chase.” His voice is a low animalistic growl and you couldn’t understand if this was Eddie or his character talking to you. Was this all an act or was he genuinely this menacing?
“I thought you actors weren’t supposed to get this close to the public…” You hunch your shoulders upward toward your ears as you cower away from his stalky frame and he stares through you; the gears in his head turning.
You shift on the balls of your feet uncomfortably and your skin blazes beneath his intense gaze.
“You’re blushing.” He says matter of factly and suddenly you feel the need to straighten your posture and try to get as far from him as possible.
“I am not.” The lie is pathetic as it meets the frosted air and Eddie smiles eerily.
“It’s the makeup, isn’t it? You like the makeup.” His head strains back on his neck as he lets out a loud laugh, “Fuck— that’s pathetic. You must be into some really weird shit.”
“I- that’s absurd!! I have no idea what you’re talking about!” You squeal and slink your arms around your torso. Partially because you were cold but also to be protective and assertive of yourself, “You don’t even know me—“ Eddie interjects, his finger tapping impatiently against his painted lips.
“Shhhh.” You feel the soft grain of his leather gloves as they tickle your skin and Eddie’s hands fully embrace your bare shoulders, “It’s okay— I like your costume too, I suppose.” He shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly, “I mean, it’s a bit outdated and boring but hey, you look good.” He flashes you a teasing wink that is nearly enough to make your lungs implode with lack of oxygen.
“Goodbye, Munson.” You swivel on your kitten heels and briskly find the frozen dirt path again. Your head involuntarily looks over your shoulder, trying to catch sight of Eddie one last time as you leave him behind but to your total disadvantage the metal head was no longer standing where you had left him.
He too, had taken off.
And unbeknownst to you, you had just pressed play on one of Eddie Munson’s all time favourite games; Cat and mouse.
-
It was getting later and later with every passing second and you couldn’t find your friends anywhere. You had last seen them run off whilst laughing and screaming in total horror but you hadn’t seen them since.
Had they actually ditched you and went home?
Once the thought infiltrated your psyche you contemplated on cutting the scare walk short and heading back to the funfair to search for them. However, going back meant that you had to go alone and there was something devilish about that.
To your left, through a thick canvas of sweetgum trees you can hear the owl again. Hooting softly— a sound that should calm your nerves but instead it tugs on them viciously. It’s more like an emergency siren warning you. A sign for you to run and to never look back.
A man made whistle slices through the chirping of the birds and it cuts at your skin like the edge of a blade. You look left and right, frantically dancing in circles as you try to determine where it’s coming from; but you are met with nothingness.
“Eddie, if that’s you then cut it out! This isn’t funny!” Your fingernails pinch at your skin as you begin to walk panicked in the opposite direction. Never paying attention to what’s in front of you, your gaze always trailing off to the side and behind you.
That’s when you see him— the skull peering at you from a dark line of trees in the distance. Your feet come to a staggering stop as you eye him. Was your mind playing tricks on you? Was Eddie really staring back at you or were you deluding yourself?
You swallow thickly, your mouth dry as you watch him emerge from the greenery. Before your brain can compute what your body is doing you are running; charging into the fullness of the forest.
Tree branches whip and rip at your skin, causing it to redden and sting. You wince but you continue soldiering on, your shoulders barge through sticks and nettles and thorns.
Your mind had convinced you that this was real. That you were being chased by a psycho.
“Hey— hey, stop!! It’s okay! Wait—“ Eddie is close behind you, crunching twigs beneath his boots but you are quicker than he is; more frightened and resilient to get as far from him as possible. For your own safety.
“Sweetheart! Stop!” You can hear him getting frustrated as he trudges through the cluttered landscape but you can see lights shining in front of you, just up ahead, and it causes you to force your legs to quicken. Desperate to reach there.
But just before you explode onto the funfair grounds your legs give way beneath you and you crash to the ground. The palms of your hands scrape against the jagged forest floor and your dress rips against a spiked log. You thought this shit only happened in the movies— but tonight you were proven wrong.
You look behind you and your eyes well up with tears of both pure adrenaline and fear at Eddie propelling himself toward you.
You bring up your hands around your head to protect yourself as you shrink back onto the floor, over the fact that your hair is full of pine needles and your knees are scraped and bleeding.
Eddie crouches by your side, a deep frown on his face and worry in his eyes.
“Hey, sweet girl, you’re okay…” Eddie bites off his leather gloves and throws them to the soft earth. He is gentle to pry your cold hands away from your muddied face and he hisses quietly at the temperature of your skin compared to his. He examines the palms of your hands tenderly, “Ouch… this must hurt. What were you thinking?”
Your foolishness almost causes Eddie to laugh, but after witnessing the genuine anxiety plaguing your features he decides not to.
“It was too real.” You blubber, letting out a dampened sob and Eddie’s heart pangs with guilt and sorrow, “I couldn’t find anyone and… and I saw you and I just couldn’t think of anything else…”
“I’m sorry, love. C’mere, let me help you up.” Eddie is crouched down, his knees bent as he braces himself in front of your shaking frame. He outstretches his hands toward you and you take them hesitantly.
Thanks to Eddie’s strength he pulls your weak body up to meet his with ease and he hold you against his chest. Breathing softly as he tries to calm your laboured and nervous breaths.
“I really am sorry… it’s just me, ‘Kay? I’m not gonna hurt you. I promise.” He peppers comforting pecks into your hair and your nails claw at the back of his shirt, “It must’ve been pretty scary; being out there all alone with me.”
You nod, your mind finally calming at the sound of his lulling and gentle voice.
“I do like the makeup.” Your confession is meek and muffled against his chest, “I think there must be something wrong with me.” You laugh, managing to pull away his chest and look at him much more confidently now.
“Not at all,” Eddie grins, “I think it’s quite the opposite, actually. Very normal— it might even be considered vanilla to some people out there.” Although you have removed yourself from the skull painted man’s chest, the closeness between the both of you remains the same.
The truth was; Eddie had always admired you. Your intelligence and your cunning. You were beautiful, which was the cherry on top of your infectiously bright personality. He had noticed you at the beginning of the academic year and he was too chicken to talk to you. You both were connected through Steve but Steve never really paid attention to Eddie’s longing and begging looks toward you.
But Steve didn’t have to say anything. Not anymore. Because you could see it for yourself. You could see beneath the intricate paint on his face that Eddie felt something for you. You weren’t sure what it was; lust, a crush or plain friendship but you could see it. Feel it.
“You must think I’m a total freak.”
“You have no idea who you’re talking to, sweetheart. I am the biggest freak to have ever lived.” Eddie lets out a giddy chuckle and his hands continue to rest lightly around your body. You welcome his lingering touch and his nearness. It felt familiar. Nice.
“We both look like weirdos standing out here in the dark.” Your eyes scan around the auburn horizon of tall trees and a soft smile rests on your smudged lipstick covered lips, “People are going to think we’ve been up to no good.”
Eddie smiles, his hand coming to stroke your cheek gently and tuck some of your rouge hair behind your ear, “With how windswept your hair is, I wouldn’t be surprised.”
You both stand there, the air is clouded with electrifying tension and you can’t think of anything else other than how badly you want him to kiss you.
“I wanna take you out… on a date.” His hands cup your face, “When I’m not this caricature. I’ll just be me and you will be you. You won’t have to run from me…” His cold nose brushes the tip of yours, “I won’t have to chase you.” You can smell mint and nicotine on his breath and you have never been more intoxicated by anything in your entire life.
“What’d ya say, sweet girl? Let me take you somewhere nice so I can kiss you properly at the end of the night?” There is a slight desperation to his voice and you bite your lip to suppress a wide smile.
“I’d like you to chase me, Eddie. Chase me with daisies and a boombox and your guitar. You won’t have to run after me for long…” You are dangerously close to him now, your breath quickening as you press a chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth. It takes every ounce of self control not to eat his entire mouth with yours, “Take me anywhere. As long as it’s with you.”
“I will.” He promises.
“And kiss me at the end of the night?” You are desperate yourself now, your eyes sparkling with moonlight as you look up into his shadowy hues.
“I will.” He strokes your hair so delicately; like you are the most precious thing he has ever handled, “I promise.”
-
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#eddie munson#stranger things#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson smut#halloween#scare actor!eddie munson#scare actor!eddie#eddie munson stranger things#eddie munson imagine#eddie x reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson fanfiction#eddie munson one shot#eddie munson oneshot#eddie munson fanfic#stranger things fanfiction#fanfiction#fandom
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˗ˏˋ⭒ things that make their heart flutter ⭒´ˎ˗
genre ? fluff reactions/headcanons , cw ? mentions of insecurities
bf!riize x gn!reader
⋆ note: first post! check pinned :3 might do little drabbles on some of these
将太郎⭒SHOTARO
[initiating hugs]
☆ shotaro’s love language is definitely physical touch
☆ so when you hug him from behind to surprise him
☆ or pull him into your arms in bed
☆ or bury your face in his chest as you squeeze him
☆ he feels like his life is complete
☆ adores when you run and jump into his arms after a long day
☆ just the feeling of being in your hold is enough for him
☆ he always makes sure to hug you back 10x tighter too
☆ (and no, he is never letting you go now)
은석⭒EUNSEOK
[dressing up for him]
☆ he thinks you always look pretty, no matter what you wear
☆ but when you dress up really nicely for dates, or to show off some new clothes you bought
☆ oh my god he loves it
☆ makes sure to compliment you every 3 seconds
☆ “you look beautiful”
☆ “that sweater looks so nice on you”
☆ fixes your jacket for you, smooths out your skirt
☆ silently admiring you the entire time
☆ you are his angel and he can’t believe he was lucky enough to be chosen by you
성찬⭒SUNGCHAN
[public skinship]
☆ sungchan loves to make sure everyone knows that he is yours and you are his
☆ like Yes you are taken and Yes he will bark at anyone who dares to think otherwise
☆ he always has a hand on your back, an arm wrapped around your waist or over your shoulders, etc
☆ but when you do it to him? he literally does a happy dance on the inside
☆ when you grab his hand and lace your fingers together
☆ or link your arm with his
☆ or hug his middle while waiting in line
☆ you are his Baby okay
☆ he thinks its so cute when you show him off to others
☆ it always puts the biggest smile on his face
원빈⭒WONBIN
[praise/compliments]
☆ you always have a knack for telling when wonbin gets in his head
☆ when his smile doesn’t reach his eyes, or when he’s even quieter than usual
☆ so you make sure to shower him in compliments and praise whenever you can
☆ telling him how hard he’s working and how good he is at what he does
☆ commenting on how pretty his eyes are, or how you like his new shirt
☆ you can see the stress leave his body when you praise him
☆ sometimes your reassurance is all he needs
☆ especially when he’s feeling insecure, he immediately searches for comfort in you
☆ because you always know just what to say
승한⭒SEUNGHAN
[random kisses]
☆ there’s nothing seunghan loves more than when you kiss him
☆ he’ll just be scrolling on his phone and you stop to kiss him on the forehead before going about your day
☆ or you could be in the middle of a conversation and then you randomly peck him on the lips
☆ it makes him smile so hard
☆ he could be having the worst day ever, but at least he knows he’ll be able to get a kiss from you later
☆ please cup his face kiss his cheeks when you see him
☆ if you kiss his neck while cuddling, he’ll literally melt in your arms
소희⭒SOHEE
[whispering in his ear]
☆ cuddles with sohee is a mandatory step in your nighttime routine
☆ and the atmosphere is always so soft and peaceful
☆ you always whisper an “i love you” into his ear
☆ or if you’re quietly talking about your day in your soft sleepy voice
☆ and he kind of dies inside everytime
☆ like his heart actually stops in his chest
☆ your voice is so beautiful to him, and when you whisper??? even better
☆ you make him feel so safe and he loves how vulnerable you can be around him
찬영⭒ANTON
[playing with his hair]
☆ it’s a subconscious habit you have, to mess with his hair, or twirl strands around your fingers
☆ and he falls for you all over again every time you do it
☆ when his hair falls into his eyes in the middle of a conversation and you reach up to brush his fringe to aside
☆ and if you make eye contact at the same time?
☆ anton.exe has stopped working
☆ he stutters in the middle of his sentence
☆ you always make him so nervous
☆ you can see him trying not to smile when you begin to play with his hair if his head is in your lap
☆ he's so soft for you, it's crazy
MASTERLIST
reblogs + feedback are greatly appreciated!
©️SO-STARZ
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All I can think about with sevs new hair is clipping back the pieces that get in her eyes with the most ridiculous clips (like those hello kitty ones with a million charms and beads)
this is so cute hehehe
men and minors dni
there are a lot of fun things about having two girls living in your house.
movie nights are much more lively; you and sevika have had a blast introducing the girls to classic horror movies and watching them squeal.
jinx is surprisingly helpful around the house, so while there's more dishes and laundry to be done every day, you actually do less chores than when it was just you and sev.
and, best of all, the girls are always adding some color to your lives. whether it's through jinx's oil crayons, isha's handmade jewelry that you and sevika are far too sentimental to take off, or the hundreds of funky accessories that start to accumulate in your home-- there's always something glittery and rainbow on you at all times.
sevika's the same-- despite how much she pretends to hate it.
while you tend to use isha's nail polishes for a manicure, or steal jinx's boots for a day; sevika's started dipping into the girls' shared hair accessory box in the bathroom.
it starts subtly.
her new haircut is so fucking hot-- but it's inconvenient when she's trying to do anything practical. so, sevika starts with a few simple black bobby pins pinning her fringe behind her ears while she works or reads or cooks.
then isha gets her hands on a pack of sparkly purple barrettes, and sevika couldn't resist adding a little bit of her favorite color in her life.
it only takes about a week for her to move on to something more.
jinx and ekko go to a rave, and jinx decks herself out in hello kitty hair clips. of course, after the big event jinx rarely uses them, so sevika starts to claim them as her own.
vi crashes on your couch for a week after her and cait go through one of their classic week long breakups, and she leaves behind her a few of her mini scrunchies when she moves back out. sevika will occasionally use one to put her hair in a single ponytail at the top of her head. it's ridiculously cute.
isha actually squeals in the store when she sees a big pack of bug hair clips, so of course you buy them for her. the first time she notices sevika wearing two of her beloved bugs in her hair she gasps, then runs to the bathroom and puts a few in her own to match.
after she sees how happy it makes isha to match her, sevika kinda gives up on trying to keep the sparkle to a minimum.
every morning she'll go in the bathroom with jinx and isha, braiding jinx's hair as jinx braids ishas, and then isha will pick out hair clips for her and sevika to wear for the day.
it's the cutest thing in the world. you have a picture of your girls doing their hair together in the morning as your phone's background.
sevika ends up wearing some pretty ridiculous shit. it's adorable.
fuzzy pompoms in the shape of hearts on valentines day, shiny sequined butterflies in the spring, unicorns when isha's feeling magical, and sparkly dinosaurs when she needs some courage.
you and jinx will occasionally join in, letting isha pick out some clips for your own hair. but most days it's just isha and sevika, giggling with each other as they discuss their options in the morning.
taglist!
@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner
@kissyslut @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther
@sevikaspillowprincess @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai @my-taintedheart
@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @k3n-dyll @sevsdollette
@ellieslob @xayn-xd @keikuahh @maneskinwh0re @raphaellearp
@iamastar @sevikitty @mascdom @nhaaauyen @annesunshiner
@mirconreadzztuff22 @veoomvroom @lushh-s3vik4s @katyawooga @lesbodietcoke
@lavandasz @strawberrykidneystone
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