#my brain has been so stagnant. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dynamimight · 6 months

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cw: THIS IS NOT A FIC, the internet is simply my diary lmao. just a lil thing to get stuff about tumblr rn out of my head. read if you please, i also rly want to talk about this w/ppl 😭😭 (readmore bc i put this in fandom tags)

i recently have been feeling a certain kind of way about reading fanfic; if i find myself scrolling (bored/looking for fun stories as always) i kinda just quickly scroll through the whole page and give?? up??? like im not as excited as i used to be. this is for a few reasons:

1. i feel like a lot of fics are the same now 👍🏼 not a terrible thing, but i really look back to the quarantine era of "forced creativity" (a different conversation) and think about just how much people were writing; not to "give out content," but to truly explore an online writing community and do something that was worthwhile. the resurgence if the "[as]" trend on tiktok really put that into perspective for me: quarantine forced ppl to explore creativity, created job opportunities based on that (influencers/content creators as we now know them), and really pushed artistry to the point of basic normalcy. even though this was a cool kind of thing (seeing so many ppl create), our level of understanding art and its brilliance was lowered. which brings me to point 2-

2. a good amount of the "creative era" of quarantine was simply ppl replicating other ppl's original ideas, or straight out stealing them to add an extra topping of fame, bc ofc "everybody wants to be famous." my best examples of this are the two sides of the tiktok coin: dancing & damelio.

dancing became a big thing, and it made sense to start dancing trends; a trend is just popularity + replication. but charli damelio becoming famous for creating one of those trends and it later being stated that a completely different girl, jalaiah harmon, created it and had no recognition until the news came out?

and yes, she was on ellen, but that pales in comparison to the millions of dollars that the damelio family made bc of one instance of improperly following a trend.

and that's what i see now with multiple online spaces; they've become boring bc everyone is doing the same thing w/o giving proper credit to anyone. before content creation & whatnot became huge, no one irl would go around seriously saying tht they created some huge, celebrity-reach trend without being checked.

now, the difference between tiktok and fanfic pertaining to "trends" is based on power imbalance. no one is gonna believe a middle schooler saying that they started the trend of wearing skirts over jeans when it was very obviously some a-list celeb. in writing, you look to your favorite authors, poets, etc. and formulate your own writing style. whether that's word choice, plot format, or anything else you can cultivate to your own writing experience.

while you can always put your own spin on new dance/fashion trend, writing is different. you wouldn't put a spin on a classic in the same way: it would be a modern retelling, or smth symbolic of the original. adding an extra move is is not equal to adding an extra sentence. and that is what leads me to my final point-

3. writing is becoming/has became very formulaic. a good amount of fics in the most popular fandoms here follow a similar style. we see this with the short cycle of complaints that went around when the fic format of "short blurb with a group of character names under it" came about. along with the fact that the format probably came from the notoriously unoriginal & wattpad-esque booktok, everyone who wanted activity in their notifs was using that format. and so now, with every new group of teens that comes here to enjoy stories and explore writing, the new "trend" isn't a fully fleshed out story: it's like pushing out content.

i'm not complaining, and i'm not saying that everyone lacks originality. i enjoy whatever ppl put out bc i know that any form of writing comes from some place within. i am simply making a written observation of something i've noticed happen over the last couple of years- being a younger teen when it started, and now growing into the basics of adulthood.

the internet is my diary lol

#i had to get this one outta my system chat 😭👍🏼#like my morning routine has been wake up tumblr scroll for like 4 years atp #and there have been so many changes but it's still so? stagnant?? at least it feels like it now #and i was trying to differentiate and establish my feelings about why i felt that way #is it bc im getting older? i mean jfc im not old in the slightest 👎🏼 and it can't be tht i grew out of liking writing bc I STILL WRITE #AND READ #but i think i figured it out #isn't it so funny tht i usually think tumblr then notes app if i need to write a brain essay? like what is tht did i start doing tht lmaooo #anyway #gonna tag some fandoms to get some reach bc i want a discussion #mha #jjk #mha x reader #jjk x reader

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kaisturni · 3 months

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cabin fever | m. sturniolo

→ matt x fem!reader

→ plot; things are heating up at the triplet’s cabin in vermont; especially between you and matt. the group of you, him, his brothers, nate and madi spend a needed getaway at the cozy house. unknown to everyone else, confessions, tension, and late nights make it even hotter between you two.

→ includes; smut, unprotected sex, outdoor sex, f!oral receiving (matt the munch AF), mentions of drinking, blood/bleeding (NOT PART OF THE SMUT), light fluff

→ a/n; madi nate nick and chris all have super minor roles and they don’t add to the plot at all btw. this one is HOT. CALOR. CALIENTE. (imo) enjoy!

MINOR PROOFREADING

——————————————————————————

“hey, we’re here,” a voice gently whispers to me, i realize belonging to nick as i slowly come back to consciousness.

the groggily feeling of sleep soon goes away and in its place is excitement; we’re finally at the cabin.

this isn’t my first time vacationing with the triplets; we’ve been going here since we were little. once becoming friends with nate and madi, they soon joined in on our yearly trip to the cabin.

i almost immediately fall stepping out of the car, my brain forgetting that my body was completely stagnant during the 4 hour car ride up here.

i put my hands out and brace for impact; but it never comes. instead a pair of arms swiftly caught me before i had my lunch with the gravel,

“dude, you gotta be more careful,” a voice chuckles from behind my head. it’s matt; i know his voice the best out of all of them.

he helps me stand up right, “whew thanks,” i breathe out with a laugh, he says nothing but delivers a nod in response. i turn on heels to grab my suitcase from the trunk,

“here let me help you, wouldn’t want you to almost fall again,” he offers, i roll my eyes at him as he takes the duffel bag from my arms and slings it over his shoulder, not giving me any time to think of a response.

i know to some that may seem flirtatious, but unfortunately it isn’t. sometimes i can’t help but feel disappointed that there isn’t something more but the guilt of feeling like that towards one of my best friends since childhood is stronger than my urges.

however, i would be a liar if i said i didn’t find him attractive. the tattoos on his body, light stubble he lets grow in sometimes, messy curls, plump lips, his eyes… jaw…

i quickly get the ongoing list of the physically mouth watering things about matt out of my head; feeling almost a guilt that i found him so hot. i shouldn’t think about one of my best friends since childhood this way, so i force myself not to.

forgetting about my previous daydreams, i follow the rest of them into the house, taking in the joy of being at the cabin again.

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the house is big enough to where everyone is lucky to have their own room, and mine sits at the end of a long hallway, just past where chris and nate sleep.

i open the door and smile at the sight that matt has already placed my stuff down on the bed for me.

i internally slap myself, why am i reading into this? he just put my stuff down in my room. nothing else about it.

i take my duffel off the bed and seat it on the floor beside me and replace it with myself on its cushioning. i hear a knock at my door,

“come in!”

thinking i’m going to be met with matt in my doorframe, i look up, and i am only about half right.

“we’re gonna start cooking dinner now since it’s getting pretty late and we’re all starving, wanna help?” chris asks, poking his head between the a small sliver in the door.

i can’t help but giggle at his actions, “yes, i’ll help you, but next time you knock just open the door all the way, don’t be creepy,” i kick my feet up and yank the door open,

“i’m not creepy i’m polite!” he argues, voice fading as he descends to the kitchen,

“never said that!” i joke, my footsteps quickly follow behind him.

i join the rest of my friends in the kitchen, and start slicing vegetables, while chris and madi go on their own dinner tasks.

getting way too caught up in a conversation with nick, my knife skills began to be… less than subpar.

“FUCK!” i yell and instinctively drop the knife, the sound of the blade echoing through the room and blood from a large cut in my hand leaking everywhere on the counter causes all hell to break loose.

“oh my god! do we need to go to the ER?!”

“get a towel, NOW!”

“i’m fine, i’m fine!” i yell, doing my best to stop the panic from everyone else, the pressure from the towel stopping the blood flow for now.

“we need to get that cleaned, the first aid kit is in my room, come on,” matt says, taking my unadulterated hand into his and guiding me upstairs into his bedroom.

“sit,” he points to his bed and i follow his finger and take a seat on the edge of the mattress.

he ruffles through a drawer and pulls out a large first aid kit, since when was it in his room?

“this will sting like a bitch, but it’ll stop it from getting infected,” he says, shaking a bottle of hydrogen peroxide and removing the make shift dressing i have from my hand.

i close my eyes tightly and wince at the contact of it on my skin, biting my lip through the pain.

“it’s almost over, don’t worry. i’m gonna put some ointment on it then a bandage okay?”

his words are soft and comforting, which somehow eases the pain to a lower level than before.

he applies the ointment first, and i sign blissfully at the relief it has on my wound.

“that’s it, you’re doing so well,” he adds casually, wrapping the bandage around my finger.

i can feel my cheeks grow hot at his statement, him not knowing the effect his words of praise had on me.

i internally slap myself again. why do i keep thinking about him like this? jesus christ there’s something wrong with me.

“thank you matt,”

“anytime.”

for a moment, we just stare at each other. the silence is almost suffocating, and for the first time i feel like he wants to say something but doesn’t. i wonder if he thinks the same thing about me today.

i decide to quickly break the silence, “let’s go back down and eat, yeah? i don’t know about you but i’m starving,” i lie, i’m actually not hungry at all. almost cutting my hand off had a way of perfectly curving my appetite, but it’s the only thing i can think to say to rip me out of the chokehold that this silence has on me.

“me too, c’mon” he stands up and reaches out his hand for mine.

i’ve never been more confused in my fucking life. it was one thing to catch me when i fall, bring my suitcase inside, but praise me? hold my hand twice? i don’t know if i’m just delusional or if this is part of some code matt wants me to decipher, either way, i’m at my wits end.

i take his hand to help me up, and he smiles at me and we drop our hands at the same time. i smile back and he turns away to lead us back downstairs, i make sure he’s first so that he doesn’t see my face contort into a look of embarrassment.

definitely way over thinking it.

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after a great dinner and a few drinks all around, everyone says their goodnights and head to their bedrooms.

i do the same, and after a few hours, despite no one else in the house being awake and a couple drinks in me, i am nowhere near the point of falling asleep.

tossing and turning is all i can manage myself to do, sweating i don’t know which; being so hot and bothered by everything matt has done earlier or the vermont heat just personally attacking me and only me tonight.

i peel off the sheets and pillows, and it provides me with some relief for a little, but does nothing to fight my consciousness. with this temperature, maybe i just need a glass of water.

i creep downstairs as quiet as i can to not wake anyone, and i do the same with opening the fridge.

i look through it for a few seconds trying to find a water bottle, when a sudden voice behind me makes me jump,

“couldn’t sleep either?”

it’s matt. what the fuck, i thought he was asleep?

“matt, you scared the shit out of me! i thought you were asleep,”

i put my hand on my chest to cure the spike in heart rate, and turn around changing my focus back to the fridge.

“looking for a water? great minds think alike,” I hear his feet shuffle close behind me, and i feel the immediate spike in heart rate come back again when he moves me over, brushing up against me with a steady grip on my waist.

“right over here,” he says? pulling out two water bottles from the fridge. i feel like i’m going to fucking explode.

“thanks,” i crack open the lid, “so what’s keeping you up this late?” i say as my best attempt at remaining as calm and cool as possible.

“eh, y’know, just thinking about things. what about you?” he asks, and we sip simultaneously.

there’s honestly two answers to this question, I could say the truth or i could just agree.

i decide to go with the significantly less risky answer, but before i can even get the first word out he starts again,

“idea, let’s go in the hot tub,” his smile is so fucking innocent when he says it, it just drives me nuts.

i don’t even bother bringing up how ‘the heat is bothering me’ when he’s standing there, asking—no, not even asking me to go to the hot tub with him; telling me.

“oh yeah i’m down. maybe the heat will help us get sleepy,” i lie through my teeth, but saying it as nonchalantly as possible so he hopefully can’t hear the nervousness in the undertones of my voice.

“perfect, i’ll go change real quick and meet you out there,” he slips away with a light jog and i head his door close before i can even actually process what’s going on.

unfortunately there’s no time to think too deeply about it, and i book it to my room to change.

i have a couple options that i need to decide through quickly, ultimately landing on a dark blue stringed two piece.

i throw on the tshirt i had while sleeping over my bikini and quietly jog to the hot tub, located on the back end of the property, in its own reserved area. matt is already in there waiting for me, arms spread and his eyes lock with mine right when i come outside.

“hey,”

“hi, how’s the tem-“

“are you just going to stand there and talk or are you going to come in?” his words leave me slightly dumbfounded, but i can bounce back from this.

“oh, i’m coming,” i say, beginning to peel off the shirt I have on. i walk to the edge and begin to lower myself in, matt’s eyes locked on my body the whole time.

i pretend not to notice.

“thank you,” i say to him, a confused look popping on his face.

“for what?”

“taking care of me today, you didn’t have to do anything you did at all,” the words somehow just flow out of my mouth without realizing and i watch him as he lets out a light hearted laugh and looks down,

“you already thanked me today before, but no problem, i wanted to,” he replied, turning his gaze to match mine, i swear i feel like his eyes can see into my soul when he looks at me now.

“you did? why?” i ask out of genuine curiosity. it’s not like he would have never done something for me before today, but it was different; it was how he did. whether it has to do with me specifically or not, i really want to know.

“you’re my favorite girl in this world, how could i just not take care of you?” i don’t notice that we’ve slowly been moving towards each other this entire conversation, and now our bodies are just a few inches apart.

“this whole time i was thinking you were just being nice— matt, you don’t know what you do to me,” i confess, my stare going back and forth between both his eyes, aching for any hint at what he could be thinking.

“god, speak for yourself, it’s almost impossible to stop how i feel about you; or hide it” he pushing the hair in front of my face behind my ear and pulls me closer to him by the back of my neck.

the feeling i had when he caught me today, cleaned my hand and praised me, brushed up against me, all comes rushing back to me instantly, blissful in the knowing that it’s justified.

“can i kiss you?”

this man could not get any more perfect.

“mhm,” i give out and nod in affirmation, and immediately feel his lips press against mine.

at first the kiss is slow and deep, his hands not being able to sit still against my skin.

i feel the heat between legs rise, and i shortly become impatient with the painfully slow pace he’s at. as much as i love it, i’m craving more; more of him.

i gently bite and suck on his bottom lip, earning a groan from him, and he instantly gets the message. his kisses become sloppier, less tamed, and they start to work their way down my neck.

i moan in pleasure as he sucks the sweet spot between my neck and my collarbone, holding my back and nipping as he makes his way up to hungrily claim my lips.

“can i take this off?” he waits for my consent, fiddling with the small strings that are holding my bathing suit together.

“do whatever you want to me,” i breathe out, and i mean it.

he pulls me in by my waist and kisses me again, our tongues battling as he unties the strings of my bikini top and removes the fabric between us without breaking a single kiss.

the cold air on my tits compared to the steaming hot tub causes me to gasp, and i pull even closer to matt, pressing my chest against his own.

he moans lightly and moves his mouth from mine, holding me up by the legs around his lips to carry me to the edge of the hot tub.

in no time he claims my nipple, sucking and licking hard on the area, making me grow even wetter by the minute.

“mmh, matt” i moan out, tipping my head back in pleasure.

“feels good, baby?” i nod vigorously, and he descends his kisses down me stopping when he gets in between my legs to my clothed core.

his thumb circles my clit, and i have to bite my lip in order to not scream his name immediately.

“you’re so wet already, i love it. can i taste you baby?” he purrs, knowing exactly what kind of answer he’s getting, well aware of the state he put me in.

“y-yes, god, please do,” i beg him, and he works immediately to untie the strings of my bottoms and let them fall off, exposing myself to him.

the steam from the hot tub does not do me any favors in the burning heat in my core, both from that and the sheer fact i want him to fuck me senseless right now.

“mmm” matt begins,

“i knew your pussy would be pretty, just look at how beautiful you are,” he rubs his fingers between my wet folds and i blush at his words.

“i’m gonna show you how beautiful you are,” he says, right before pushing my legs further apart for him to suck my clit.

i can’t help myself from grabbing a handful of his brown locks and squeezing my legs together against his head, and he groans in response.

his groan sends vibrations further into my pussy, making it even more impossible to suffocate the loud moans escaping from my lips.

he goes to work making out with my core, and each suck, kiss, and moan makes me exponentially closer to exploding all over him.

“m-matt i feel it i’m-“ and he stops, i shoot him a confused look, attempting to get rid of the edge that’s holding me right now.

i rub my own clit, looking him in the eye and watch his breath hitch as i moan at my own self pleasure.

i almost manage to stick two fingers in myself, but before that happens he grabs my wrists, taking the pleasure from me yet again.

“i stopped because i want you to cum on my dick, can you do that for me?” he questions softly, rubbing his clothed erection on my pussy.

the feeling of it makes me buzz, “yes i can matt, fuck me,” i say in a mix of demanding and asking, and he removes himself from his black swim trunks and lets his throbbing dick spring out.

he pumps himself a few times before aligning up with my entrance. matt pushes himself in, lewd noises escaping from both of our mouths and bodies slapping against one another.

“yeah, take that shit baby. you’re doing so well.” he moans into my ear, his repeated statement of praise is music to me.

“you’re so beautiful, how can anyone be so perfect,” he breathes out, hard deep strokes becoming sloppier by the minute.

matt’s words cause me to hit dangerously close to cumming, and without warning i paint white all over his dick; but that doesn’t stop him”

“sorry i d-didn’t say it happened s-so fast,” i apologize as he keeps thrusting into me,

“mm don’t be sorry, you did just what i asked. i’m gonna cum too angel,”

“cum in me, matt”

he wastes no time arguing with me and releases shortly after into me; his and my own liquids leaking down my thigh.

i do my best to catch my breath, and he cups my face and presses a sweet kiss on my nose,

“i made a mess outta, you huh,” he laughs playfully, also trying to regain his own air.

i let out a tired laugh of my own “yeah, i’m gonna have to shower and go to bed; after all that, im surprisingly ready to sleep,” i tease and poke his chest, he drops his jaw pretending to be offended.

“yeah yeah, surprisingly, whatever. can i join you in that shower?” he suggests, handing me a towel before covering himself with one too.

“hm, only if you join me in my bed after,” i smile, wrapping my body in the soft material,

“deal,” he whispers, kissing my head, carrying me all the way to his bathroom, before grabbing my things and putting them on his bed.

except this time, it’s our bed.

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baeshijima · 1 year

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— hsr men in a royalty au

INCLUDES : blade ; dan heng ; gepard ; jing yuan ; luocha ; sampo + gn!reader

A/N : what started off as a duke!blade word vomit became a hsr royalty au brain dump. sighs. also once again pushing my knight!reader agenda bc the lack of royalty aus with knight!reader is criminal.

genshin ver.

imagine you're the personal guard for emperor!jing yuan, picked by his hand when he was still just a mere crown prince learning the ropes of what it meant to rule an empire. in truth, there's not much for you to do other than stand close behind when in public settings or indulge in his whimsical nature when in private and within the confines of the palace walls. in spite of that, you can't help but to wonder whether it's necessary to be his partner when he practises ballroom dances, despite never actually dancing in the banquets. well, who are you to question your duties, right?

there is no destination without a journey; jing yuan would know this best. having been thrust onto a pedestal from young, he's witnessed more types of people than he can count on his fingers: those who act nice in order to gain, those whose eyes cannot hide their contempt, those who are kind out of fear, those who act on behalf of others, those who hold respect without ulterior motives... he has seen them all. his view of the world grew dull, the predictability of those around him bringing only disappointment to the young heir. the days passed in a blur with nothing of note, other than a lingering emptiness which kept him awake at night and a passion which only emerges when sparring with his instructor. and so when he was told it was time to choose a personal knight after countless assassination attempts, he trudged through the halls with poise ingrained into his stride and a blank gaze reflecting his thoughts. but when he arrived at the training grounds to oversee the potential candidates his attention was immediately seized by another, his usually stagnant heart thundering. for the first time in his life, jing yuan discovered what it meant to want something as he watched you strike your training sword against your opponent, his world bursting into colours he never knew existed before then.

jing yuan sometimes finds himself envying those who can dance without care at banquets. he has an image to maintain in front of his people while you tend to be a stickler for this kind of thing, often refusing a dance in favour of maintaining your post. he supposes it's fine if you're both together, despite the numerous times he's imagined what it would be like to dance with you in front of everyone, as opposed to the privacy of the palace under the guise of “not becoming rusty”. but as he casts his gaze over to where you rest, having fallen asleep after a particularly thrilling game of starchess with your body tucked within the protective embrace of his ever-dutiful lion, he finds himself engraving moments like these into his memory and filing them away to look back on when nights to himself become a little too lonely for his liking. it's one of the many sides to you which only jing yuan has been privy to; one of which he takes immense pride in and vows to shelter from the danger which lurks around every corner.

(he will never let you know how your bright eyes is what set his once monotonous life ablaze in colour all those years ago — the aloof crown prince utterly besotted with a starry-eyed rookie knight. he will also never let slip how he still thinks back on the warmth he felt when you took his trembling, slumped form in your arms after he fought his stricken teacher all those years ago, the aftereffects of your touch still lingering on his skin even to this day.)

despite being duty-bound beside the impish emperor, there are times where you, too, are in need of some peace away from his scheming mind and watchful eyes. in these moments, you find yourself finding respite within the royal library built into the palace, a stack of books typically used as your makeshift pillow. and even if librarian!dan heng gives you a death stare from his designated place, you know he appreciates your company when he drapes a blanket over your shoulders and replaces the book pile with a cushion or two. although, you can’t shake off the feeling you’ve seen him from somewhere before…

for as long as he can remember, dan heng has always been on the run. from what? he’s not even sure anymore; it has been that long. it is but a mere shadow, a phantom which haunts him under the glowing sun and the gleaming moon. he can run — run until his body is weak and heavy with fatigue — but he can never hide, for it follows close behind and lurks around unseen corners. as unnerving as it may be, he has grown used to the chilling gaze and staying on edge. after all, no matter how far he runs, no matter how hard he tries to blend in, there is no escaping a shadow. maybe that is why he felt a churning sensation stir in his gut when he first met the emperor to discuss his newly appointed position as the librarian, whose gaze held an unfamiliar sheen of conflict veiled behind an amiable disposition upon making eye contact. amidst the eyes of the sun held a glint of familiarity, one which dan heng couldn’t put his finger on the longer he dwelled on the thought.

dan heng didn’t know what to expect when he first met you; you, the personal guard handpicked by jing yuan himself. with all the duties he’s sure keeps you busy, it wouldn’t surprise him if he never met you past the glimpses he catches here and there when in official spaces. perhaps that is why it came as such a surprise when you stumbled into the library one day, all bleary-eyed and attempting to stifle your yawns, and he could only watch in a daze as you pulled out a random set of books from the shelves, plop yourself down at the nearest table, set the books on the surface and slam your head atop the pile, your soft snores filling the once-quiet room. dan heng wasn’t sure how long he sat there staring at you for, but it was long enough to wake you up and inform you of the library’s closing hour when the day’s hues bled into the night. what he thought would be a one-time thing soon became a regular occurrence — a routine — and he has become accustomed to your unceremonious visits and wonderful laughter and draping the blanket he now keeps under his desk over your slumbering form and admiring your peaceful expression over the rim of his novel. it’s come to a point where he can no longer imagine a life without it; without you.

(sometimes he wonders whether you enjoy the time spent with him as much as he does with you, in which he cannot help but to compare himself to the emperor you have pledged your life and devoted your loyalty to. amidst those thoughts, dan heng finds himself hoping you would favour him over the shine of the empire’s revered sun.)

royal guard captain!gepard is someone you have always admired, ever since you were just a rookie knight trying to prove your worth amongst a sea of prodigal candidates like him. he is kind as he is strong, a formidable ally and a terrifying foe. however, you can't help but wonder whether you’ve done something to offend him, what with the way he sometimes avoids you if you happen to bump into each other amidst the palace grounds and speedwalks in the opposite direction with hasty apologies trailing behind him.

the landau dukedom. it is known for its military prowess and defending the borders, but infamous for the strict duke landau. as well-respected he may be by the nobles of the court, gepard only knows a strict man more like a superior than a father. it wouldn’t be a lie to say duke landau was just that; a superior — a teacher, one who viewed his children as either heir candidates or a foundation to bolster the territory’s military power. while it may be a strict method, the respect gepard holds for his father is undeniable, feuling his desire to make him proud and carry out his teaching in the name of the honourable landau duchy. he stuck to harsh training regimens, endured countless trials of tactics and wit, witnessed his elder sister begin to refute against their father’s suffocating hold upon returning from the academy, watched as she left the duchy to have control over her own life with a promise to keep in touch with him and their youngest sister. these moments were fleeting, passing in a blur until he entered the ranks of the elite, eventually promoted to captain as he remained steadfast in defending the borders.

it took gepard countless sleepless nights tossing and turning in his bed and a highly amused serval laughing at his predicament to finally understand his feelings for you. love was an unfamiliar concept to him. he knew of camaraderie between fellow knights (which was what he assumed he felt for you, but just a bit more… intense?) and familial bonds between family, so this new experience of his heart palpitating, hands clamming up, words stuck in his throat and an incessant heat clinging to his cheeks was unfamiliar, thus his avoidance. though that didn’t sit well with him, as a longing ache only seemed to replace it instead. and so, despite the apparent awkward flair his body language carried, gepard decided to follow his heart when it came to matters pertaining to you. he quickly came to discover your likes and dislikes, your miniscule habits when practising swordsmanship, the subtle cues you display when uncomfortable, the smile you showed upon seeing something you liked and the grin you displayed upon besting him in a duel. they were all segments which made up the very being you are, and the pieces which fit within his heart to establish this newfound love he holds for you.

(as your direct superior there are many things he notices when watching from the sidelines. among many, the one which stands out are the eyes which follow you — some gaze at you with envy, others regard you with awe, but there are a few which regard you in the same adoration he does. love and jealousy were never something gepard thought he would experience; not until he met you.)

with your role as one of the empire’s royal knights and the emperor’s personal guard, it comes as no surprise to be inflicted with injuries of varying severities. as a result, you are well-acquainted with royal physician!luocha through your numerous visits. you’ve come to find his pleasant visuals and soothing voice does wonders to heal your fatigue, even if he does tend to go a little overboard in his lectures when you come to him with less-than-fine wounds.

being able to wield elements and being able to use divine powers are two different things; one is widely accepted, the other is not. at least, that’s the case in the xianzhou empire. those born with the ability to use divine powers have fled into hiding, unwilling to be outcasted — or worse, executed — for being afflicted with the cursed power of the divinity. as such, having lived the majority of his life in concealment, luocha is no stranger to hiding his abilities. curse or blessing, it’s an irrevocable part of him. still, he didn’t want to stop helping others the way the nature of his powers could. and so he resorted to learning medicine. he soon became a renowned travelling doctor sought after for his vast knowledge, all of which garnered the attention of the emperor when he stopped by in the capital and was offered the position of royal physician. with little drawbacks, handsome pay, and a grand place to stay without needing to be on the run, luocha accepted and became the sole royal physician of the empire.

there was very little luocha found himself to be afraid of. with no one but himself to rely on, he’s crossed many bridges on his own without care. there was no need for such sentiment in survival. or so he thought. in all his years, luocha doesn’t think there was anything more terrifying than the day you were rushed in by a frantic jing yuan, your complexion sickly and covered in sweat and breathing laboured. as it turned out, you were poisoned, having drank it in place of jing yuan upon sensing something suspicious. he doesn’t recall anything making his heart drop as quickly as the situation then had, his mind blank yet frantic as he forced the panic-stricken emperor out of the infirmary and laid you on one of the beds. your symptoms were dire, he noted, and there was nothing in the cabinets suited for this kind of quick-acting poison. your condition was worsening, a pained furrow of your brows and haggard appearance being clear indicators. a bright glow then illuminated the room, and luocha came to the belated realisation he had used his abilities for the first time since concealing them, for the thought of losing you was far more torturous than his will to hide his abilities.

(there was no thought to the act, just sheer desperation to not let you die. it took him a long few days to realise that, all of which were spent looking after you by your bedside. he never spoke of how he cured you when you asked, eyes bleary with confusion on how you’re still alive, instead choosing to keep it to himself as he chided you for being so reckless. you will never know of the inner turmoil he endured, even praying to a deity he never once believed in to ensure your safety. should you sustain more severe afflictions, luocha has no qualms using his abilities again — if it means you live, he will make an exception.)

thinking about duke!blade, whose… less than pleasant disposition does little to help refute the fearful rumours surrounding his name. you've met him a handful of times when he visits the palace under jing yuan's summon or catching him at the odd banquet or two, and even back when he used to train with jing yuan before his visits suddenly ceased. even so, you find yourself doubting those rumours, especially when he seems to wear an expression akin to peace more often than he does of one resembling disdain.

the cold duke remains an enigma to those around him — even those who work under him. is it due to his quiet hostility? or is it perhaps something no one knows, such as a secret known only to him, his butler, his family physician, and the emperor? a curse; one of immortality where his soul is torn to shreds only to be stitched anew before he can succumb to the paradise known as death. it's a never-ending cycle, one which causes him to no longer track the days when they all feel the same. the days out on leading monster subjugations and expeditions are just a temporary means of escape — an outlet for his pent up frustrations to let loose without worry. no one knows what truly goes on in his mind, only ever witnessing or hearing tales of his brutal yet awe-inspiring deeds on the blood-soaked battlefields, and the origin of his adopted alias: blade. his true name evades him, having been discarded the moment he lost his humanity.

he has always noticed you. it was hard not to when the favour you received was blatantly obvious, even from when you were just a fledgling knight and he the young heir of his duchy. there weren’t many opportunities for him to talk to you, what with the way jing yuan always seemed to divert his attention back to their instructor when noticing his wandering gaze to your distant figure, and even more so after the curse struck him full-force and he stopped visiting altogether outside of summons and banquets. it wasn’t until he returned from a monster subjugation as the sole survivor did he first properly meet you. with his mind torn and body regenerating itself, he failed to notice someone rush towards him, an unfamiliar warmth encompassing his bleeding torso as his conscience began to fade. an unfamiliar ceiling and an unfamiliar room was what greeted him when he awoke, but a warmth he registered as familiar gripped his calloused hand. what met his gaze then was your dozing figure, your head smushed against the duvet beside his leg with even breaths giving way to your unconscious state. his typically chaotic mind was silent as he stared at you. it was an odd feeling, one which elicited a sharp inhale when you shifted in place, your grip on his hand loosening as you sought out a more comfortable position, before exhaling in relief when you resumed your rest. it was an odd feeling, but it wasn’t unpleasant. and, for the first time in his life, blade experienced what it meant to be at peace.

(while he never spoke of that incident to you again other than a brief thanks for giving him (unnecessary) medical attention, he found himself drifting towards you more frequently — whether it be conversing with you during those bothersome banquets, stretching out the time you escort him before he enters jing yuan’s office-slash-meeting room, sharing specialties from his territory during garden strolls, or even requesting you to spar with him. the victory from either side is sweet, but the strained expression he catches from notable figures is even sweeter.)

amongst the many you’re acquainted with, merchant!sampo is the one you’re most on edge around in spite of the years you have known each other for. it’s not that he’s a bad guy, but there’s something about his easy smile and ever-searching eyes and his words that always seem to form into something people want to hear which all seem… off. well, maybe you’re reading too much into his demeanour. after all, if he truly did have sinister intentions, you’re sure he would have acted on them by now — he’s had plenty of time to.

there’s a certain level of cunning one must have in order to survive. whether that be wits, deceit, getting one’s hands dirty, it doesn’t matter. they are all just a means to an end, after all. sampo has long since tread on the path of deceit, a game of cat and mouse with unassuming clients and authorities. but business is business, and what better way to make use of that than exploitation? disguised in a bar known as “masked fools” mapped across the globe sits a wealth of knowledge, hidden behind a secret code only known by those who covet wealth or revenge. it’s a fun pastime; the information-slash-mercenary guild receives money, the client has their request done. sampo quickly discovered playing the unassuming fool in front of the target only for them to discover they were the fool all along to be exhilarating. it was a rush like no other, even more so when he mastered the art of disguise and blended in with the crowd, building connections and biding his time as the airheaded merchant.

sampo admits, he was a tad hasty in his judgement of you. just a little. well, when compared to the ever-imposing figure of the royal guard captain chasing him down when he makes his weekly medicinal run for the palace’s physician, you weren’t all that impressionable at first glance. maybe it was the way you passively regarded him before walking off which led him to that belief, or perhaps it was the unassuming expression you always carried despite being the famed personal guard of the emperor. whatever the case, he was wrong. he realised that when his balance was tilted, back flush against the grass with your body pinning him down. the tip of your sword was against his throat and your eyes burned so brightly when asking what he was doing sneaking around a forbidden area to outsiders. he doesn’t remember what he said or did in response; all he does remember is the adrenaline rushing through his veins at the stern countenance you bestowed upon him. unconventional as it may have been, sampo thought you were the most breathtaking in that moment, a wondrous sight for his heart which only knew of cunning and deceit.

(it would be no lie to say money talks. in his line of business, it does all the talking. the only exception, sampo discovered, was when an ignorant fool attempted to hire him and have you… removed, to put it lightly. sampo couldn’t help the laugh which escaped him at the expression on the man’s face after his carefree refusal, a sound which ceased as he pointed his weapon to the man’s throat and demanded he spill the identity of the one who sent him. after all, a mere small-fry like him doesn’t have the ability to even dream of hiring someone against you — mercenary or assassin.)

if you enjoyed this, then reblogs with/or comments are greatly appreciated !! <33

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anxious-witch · 3 months

Text

I apologize for irritable tone of this post, but a portion of this fandom is starting to irritate me, so let's analyze catwin through the lens of how age works for ghosts and how situational irony is used in a scene where Edwin and Niko talk about kissing.

Let's start with age. Right at the beginning, when Emma asks Charles and Edwin to take her case, she tries to play it off as her being just a little girl. This is what Edwin replies:

And before anyone jumps the gun and says: "He said SUPERNATURALLY speaking! He is still physically 16!"

Okay. Let's unpack that. Considering how for people who are immortal, which ghosts essentially are, and as such unchanging, that isn't quite a proper argument, is it? Because the way I see it, there are two ways someone could argue this. Either your gripe is about the Cat King finding Edwin attractive despite him physically being a 16 year old or your gripe is that Edwin is mentally 16 and as such, cannot consent.

If it's the first, I think that argument is quite lacking here, because we know the Cat King is aware Edwin is older than 16. And as someone who is an adult and often gets mistaken for a minor, I think the idea that you can just always tell someone's age by looking at them quite funny. Also, by that logic, I shouldn't be able to consent either, because people generally gauge my age to be between 16-18, when I am in my mid 20s.

If it's the second, your point doesn't work because being frozen at 16 would mean being unable to learn and develop firther than what you did by that age. Which we know is false for ghosts, especially Edwin. He changes and develops constantly throughout the s1, and we have a front row seat to that! Human brains aren't clear cut, and before you jump under the post to say your brain isn't fully develop until age 25, I will kindly tell you that human brains, in fact, never stop changing and developing. And that experiences, traumas, etc hugely impact developments of individuals.

One argument I can sort of is perhaps Edwin and Charles having somewhat stunted emotional growth, but as we also see throughout the season, that has more to do with them stagnanting rather than them being unable to emotionally develop. And frankly, I know bunch of adults with the same issues, so.

Now for the "But Edwin said he doesn't want to kiss the Cat King!" argument. How about we look at what Edwin says before that, huh?

He says he has never been kissed and didnt understand the appeal, until recently. And you cannot tell me it wasn't the Cat King who made him realize it. Yes, he wanted to kiss Charles and I am not saying he didn't like Monty too, but if it wasn't for the Cat King getting physically close to him and playing into his desires, he wouldn't have realized that he too, feel physical attraction!

As for him saying "Absolutely not!" When Niko asks him if he wants to kiss the Cat King, I think that's laughable argument to saying "Well, see, he didn't want him!" Because first of all, characters can lie. Edwin most certain, lies about things he wants, both to himself and others, up until pressed.

Besides, if I am not mistaken, given English isn't my first language and I learned this stuff in a different language, this is also called situational irony, aka, someone say something won't/can't happen and then it happens. This is very often seen in romance plots too. A characters says they hate someone and then they end up dating them.

Think of Lizzy Benett and Darcy

And then she goes ahead and married him later, once her opinion of him changes. It's a classic romance trope!

Similarly, Edwin says he doesn't want to kiss the Cat King and what happens at the end? Oh yeah!

He kisses the Cat King. Shocker.

But yeah just like. Y'all are free to not like the ship for whatever reason, but for the love of god, stop making up stuff that's just blantantly untrue. There is an "anti catwin" tag for a reason, if you truly cannot stop yourself from commenting, but in all honestly, you could just enjoy your own ship without putting other ppl's ships down. Cat King is not perfect by any means, but this isn't a predator type of situation. I and many others have addressed the whole "coercion" bit quite a few times so I won't get into it again, but these two arguments I have seen pop up and I just had to address it. Thank you for coming to my ted talk

#catwin #dead boy detectives #rio's rambly analysis #the cat king #edwin payne

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wildemaven · 4 months

Note

Came across this on Pinterest and right away thought of your Night School Teacher Javier - even has the opened shirt collar (yes please)

my place or yours | javier peña

pairing - night school teacher!javier peña x night school teacher f!reader word count - 1276 content warning - 18+ blog; just a lot of fluff, reader is mentioned wearing a dress and a necklace- but zero description features, no y/n, established relationship with in this piece notes - K, as soon as I saw this photo, my mind started buzzing! I’ve been on the fence still about writing these two but I wanted to get this out since it came to me so quickly. Thank you for sharing this!!! masterlist

A heat advisory had been issued in Laredo and the surrounding areas for the last week. Your classroom provided little relief for you and your students earlier in the evening as the central air conditioning for the school had gone out days into the heatwave.

It was a combined effort to alleviate some of the warm stagnant air within the old building. You and Javier propped your classroom doors open, while a few open windows supplied a draft across the hall as the evening sun set and the temperature began to drop to a more bearable degree.

Day 3 of trying to keep your room cool while teaching had you throwing in the white flag. Your students were all too excited at your suggestion to push their test back to next week and dismiss them, welcoming the weekend a whole hour earlier than usual. You wished them a good evening as they eagerly packed away their belongings, bidding their goodbyes as they left your classroom.

As you were finishing gathering your books and organized stacks of ungraded papers, movement in your peripheral caught your attention.

Javier moved about the front of his own classroom, his hands alternating between shuffling through the papers he was holding and pointing out key points he had written out on the blackboard. It was a normal sight for you at this point since he moved into the classroom across the hall. These past few days have opened up ample opportunities for you to catch a glimpse of him lost in teaching without a barrier of doors in the way.

In this moment, Javier was enough of a distraction to halt any progress you had made in cleaning up for the weekend. His sports coat had been discarded and draped over the back of the wooden chair that was left in an off-kilter manner behind his desk. The dark slacks he wore were a snug fit, accentuating his narrow waist. The appearance of his dress shirt had at some point turned from studious refinement to a very relaxed look— the latter being your favorite if you were being honest. The sleeves rolled and secured higher than their normal appearance, his forearms flexed freely without the restraint of the shirt fabric. His deco scallop patterned necktie had been removed and was laying over his sports coat, allowing for the top unbuttoned portion of his shirt to fall open freely.

You had fallen into a trance, with your eyes glued to the way his neck tensed and his Adam’s apple bobbed as he spoke, you hadn’t realized that you were now standing in the doorway of your classroom.

Javier’s intuition must have sensed something, his steps faltering a bit as his eyes found yours staring at him from across the hall. The way the corner of his eyes crinkled up slightly and his perfect lopsided grin grew just enough to make his dimple a prominent part of his surprised expression.

There was a beat of silence as Javier stood there taking you in, almost forgetting his students that sat patiently, filling the rows of rigid desks. His brows narrowed as his brain slowly came to the realization that your class was empty and you were no longer teaching.

He shot you a wink that caused a sudden fluttering sensation to travel from your lower belly and settle in your chest, before giving his attention back to his class and his form disappearing as he stepped further into the room.

You shoulder into the doorway, your fingers absentmindedly sliding along the dainty gold chain that hangs from your neck as commotion spills from Javier’s room.

Student after student exit with books wearing a mixture of gleeful laughter and impassive expressions as they fill the hallway walking in the direction of the nearest parking lot.

Your attention is directed back to the classroom across from you as the flurry of activity dies down.

“Hi.” Javier says standing with one hand tucked in his front pocket while the other holds a rather large book containing pages and pages of material he has to cover before the end of the semester.

“Hi.” You smile at him, as your thumb runs back and forth along the seam of your lips.

“Not like you to let them out—“ Javier begins to say as he removes his hand from his pocket to inspect the time on his watch, eyebrows raised in surprise. “A whole hour early.” His eyes locked back with yours.

“Oh stop— It’s too hot to think. They were groaning and getting restless. Besides, you would have done the same thing if you thought of it first.”

You watch as he makes his way to you, causing you to turn so your back is now leaning against the door frame when he joins you.

“I let them go, didn’t I?” He smirks.

“You did. Any longer and they would have been too distracted to hear anything else you were saying.” Your teeth catch your bottom lip in hopes to contain the smirk that’s slowly forming.

“How so?” His head ticks to the side, hoping you plan to offer him some sort of explanation.

Before you say anything, your pointer finger finds its way to the opening of his shirt. Gliding up and down the v-shape then settling at the bottom where the first fastened button rests in the middle of his sternum.

“You’re very distracting like this. Makes sense why there’s always a mad dash of students fighting over those front row seats every night.”

“Sounds like you know from experience?” His voice is hushed as he steps closer to you, his free hand resting on your hip, the fabric of your dress bunching under his grip.

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” Your finger hooks into his shirt and you pull him even closer to close the gap between your bodies. “We’re alone.” You whisper against his lips, your hand slipping under his shirt, feeling his dewy skin under your fingertips as you wait for him to make the final move.

With both classrooms now empty, you’re the only two in this wing of the building.

It had been a few months since things had become more serious for you and Javier. Still wanting to take things slow, you both kept things under wraps for the time being while on school grounds. But that didn’t mean you didn’t take advantage of moments like this when it was just the two of you.

Javier’s lips meld with yours, atoning for lost time while silently promising to make up for it the rest of the weekend. There’s a loud clatter as his book falls on the ground. His hands find their way to your face, gently tracing the contours as if trying to reacquaint himself with every feature he loves about you.

“My place or yours?” You break the kiss before it advances into something more, your breath mingling with his.

“My place has air conditioning.”

“But my bed is comfier.” You hinted as you traced lightly over his collarbone. “Cold showers never killed anyone.”

“Not yet at least.” He bends down to pick up his book, then stands to his full height and kisses you briefly one more time. “Your place tonight, then my place tomorrow after breakfast— before it gets too hot.”

“You’ve got yourself a deal.”

“Lock up and get your stuff, I’ll meet you back here in 5.” He pats your ass playfully as he begins the short walk back to his classroom.

“You’re trouble, Peña.” You quip over your shoulder to him.

“Last I checked, you loved it.” He says with a wink and smiles at you.

“I really do.”

#javier peña #javier peña x you #javier peña x reader #javier peña x f!reader #night school teacher!javier peña #retired!javier peña #pedro pascal #wildemaven writes

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eiightysixbaby · 1 year

Text

sunscreen and chlorine

word count: 3.5k

pairing: lifeguard!eddie x fem!reader

summary: things get steamy during an unbearably hot day at the hawkins pool.

cw: 18+ MINORS DNI - SMUT. oral (m receiving), sexual innuendos with a popsicle, sex in a public place, unprotected p in v, creampie, billy is mentioned in this lol. lmk if i forgot any!

author’s note: lifeguard!eddie has been invading my brain for days so here, have this.

It was hot. So, so unbelievably hot. The kind of heat where you step outside and feel like you can’t breathe for a second, where the air feels thick and heavy and sweat clings to your skin relentlessly. There was no breeze, none at all, just stagnant heat lingering. Naturally, just about everyone in Hawkins was at the community pool, dying for a way to cool down. Bare feet walking on hot pavement, vibrant swimsuits almost blinding in the sun. Brightly colored beach balls being tossed around in the water as screams and splashes rang out. Eddie sat perched in his lifeguard chair, bright red swim trunks covering his bottom half, stopping a little bit above his knees. A black tank top rested on his torso, clinging tight to modest muscles. Even in the blistering summer, Eddie wasn’t one to parade around with his shirt off. Much unlike Billy, who would take any chance he could get to be wearing as little clothing as possible, showing off his biceps to the suburban mothers who’d fawn over him. Bored women who married boring men that they felt close to nothing for, all for the sake of having that nuclear family, now dying to relive their teenage years. Eddie would occasionally throw scandalous remarks their way when they’d whistle at him, but for the most part he didn’t bite.

Eddie was honest to god sweltering, to put it lightly. The shade from the umbrella attached to the chair provided little comfort for him, but at least it kept most of his skin from receiving direct sun exposure. He’d already applied sunscreen several times, rubbing the white cream all over just to sweat it off a half hour later, and then repeat the process. His pale skin was unforgiving in the summer months, quick to turn an angry red if Eddie wasn’t careful about being in the sun. There’d been one too many occasions where he’d sat perched on the kitchen counter after hot summer days, Wayne rubbing aloe on his stinging skin. Sometimes Eddie isn’t sure why he chose to have a job that required him to be exposed to the elements so often, but hey, it pays the bills.

He peered through his sunglasses at all of the patrons in the pool, wishing he could feel the cool water on himself. His hair was pulled back into a low bun, keeping the heavy curls from making his neck too warm. He kept himself occupied any way he could, blowing his whistle at kids who insisted on running around the pool grounds despite several signs warning not to, laughing to himself when they’d slow to a walk, staring up at him with guilty eyes. Sat high on his perch, his eyes scanned over the various suspects down below - teenage girls sprawled out on towels, pretending like they weren’t absolutely miserable in the sun as they tanned their skin, Jason Carver walking towards the pool with Chrissy Cunningham over his shoulders, laughing in protest about the water being too cold, Billy flirting excessively with anything with a pulse instead of watching the pool. Eddie huffed a sigh, for as busy a day as it was, there was very little for him to actually do. Not that he wanted to have to, you know, save somebody from drowning today or something, but he was just bored. Ninety-five percent of the town’s population had to be here today, and yet none of his friends were around to keep him entertained. He was hot, he was cranky, and he just wanted to go home and unwind. Needed to smoke a joint, maybe rub one out, and go the fuck to sleep.

After yelling at some teenager to stop dunking unsuspecting people under the water, he resumed his people watching. His whistle sat loosely in his mouth, Eddie absentmindedly fidgeting with the silver metal between his teeth, whispers of that shrill chirping sound fighting their way out of the object every time he’d exhale too hard. Pulling his sunglasses off and tucking them on top of his head, his brown eyes roamed over the grounds until they landed on you. He recognized you, remembers you from high school though you two were never close. A pretty thing - you always have been - sprawled across a lounge chair, one leg crossed over the other casually. Water droplets dried on your skin, and the ends of your hair were wet, indicating your recent swim. You had a popsicle pressed between your lips, sticky red juice melting down your hand, the heat affecting the sweet ice too fast for you to keep up with. He doesn’t fully realize how hard he’s been staring until your eyes catch his, and you cock an eyebrow at him. He feels his cheeks heat up, for once from something other than the sun, and is about to just scamper down from his chair and into a hole in the ground before you wave at him, fingers delicately wiggling his way.

He gives you a casual wave back, fully catching the smile that you try to cover with your hand. Your eyes are unwavering on his thin frame, taking in his pale skin that’s littered here and there with tattoos. Gaze pausing on the soft muscles in his arms, trailing down to the fabric of his swim trunks, bunched up just below the waistband, concealing the rest of him that you’d very much like to see. You notice that he doesn’t stop looking at you, either. Eddie shamelessly lets his eyes rake up your legs, the vibrant pink of your bathing suit complimenting the rest of you. He swears his heart almost stops when he meets your eyes again, noticing the sultry look in them as you slowly push your popsicle past your lips once more. It almost completely disappears in your mouth before you pull it out, excruciatingly slowly. You lick it from bottom to top, tongue flat against the strawberry flavored treat, eyes never leaving Eddie’s.

He feels his cock twitch slightly in his swim trunks, suddenly finding it incredibly hard to focus on doing his job. You knew what you were doing, and you weren’t about to back down from what Eddie could tell. The dense heat was getting to his head, his brain turning to mush as he watched you. Juice from the popsicle slowly trickled down your chin until you wiped it with your fingers, proceeding to stick the index and middle in your mouth, sucking the sweet syrup off. Eddie shifts in his seat, subtly adjusting the fabric of his swim trunks, trying to conceal the bulge growing beneath them. You notice the awkward movement, lips twisting into a smirk as your mouth resumes its work on your popsicle. By the time you’ve consumed the entirety of the cold treat, pulling the last bit off the stick with your teeth and letting it melt in your mouth, Eddie is uncomfortably hard. He’s pulled the bright red rescue tube that was once secured at the side of the lifeguard chair over his lap, which wouldn’t seem like a calculated maneuver to anyone except you. You know the effect you’ve had on him, and he knows you’re enjoying it. Now that you’re done putting on a little show for him, he’s not sure what to do next. Was that it? Seductively eat your popsicle for him and it’s over, resume his shift as normal? He couldn’t exactly shout across the way at you to ask for your number - or at least, he didn’t want to make an absolute buffoon of himself trying.

He didn’t have to deliberate for long before he caught you jerking your head to the side, eyes following in the direction of the changing rooms and showers. You stood slowly from your chair, making sure he got the hint, before walking towards the big blue door to the women’s changing rooms. He couldn’t help but admire the way your ass looked as you walked away from where he was perched, soft flesh peeking out around the fabric of your bathing suit bottoms. Eddie was fully aware of the fact that fooling around with you at his place of employment in the middle of his shift was probably not a wise idea, but fuck it. He couldn’t hold off any longer. Gangly legs climbed down the steps of the lifeguard post until his feet hit the pavement below, almost immediately protesting at the heat coming from the concrete. He walked quickly in the direction you had led him, pulling his shirt over his head and bunching it in front of him to conceal the horrendously obvious tent in his pants. He approached Billy who gave him a questioning look.

“Cover for me for a few, man,” Eddie said quietly, for only Billy to hear, shoving the rescue tube at the shorter man for him to take.

“What?” Billy asked, stumbling back ever so slightly as Eddie presses the red safety equipment into his chest.

“Just fucking cover for me,” his voice was firm, and he walked away before Billy could say another word. The other man huffed an annoyed sigh as he headed for the lifeguard chair.

Eddie stepped cautiously into the changing rooms, not wanting to startle any unsuspecting pool patrons, but was pleasantly surprised when the only person he found inside was you. You leaned against a wall nonchalantly, twisting a lock of your hair around your fingers, smiling warmly at him.

“Hey, handsome. Decided to join me?” your voice is playful as you eye him up and down.

“That little show you put on sure was something, sweetheart,” Eddie says lowly, stalking slowly towards you.

“Just wanted to get you all worked up for the real deal,” you smirk at him, and he swallows a lump in his throat.

“Give me one sec,” he says quickly, turning on his heel.

Eddie heads back towards the door, grabbing the maintenance sign that sits in the corner. It reads, ‘Sorry! Temporarily closed for cleaning. We apologize for the inconvenience. -Hawkins Community Pool Staff’. He posts it on the outside of the door, letting the heavy metal swing closed behind him. Best to cover all of his bases here, he certainly doesn’t want any kids getting scarred for life today.

“We don’t exactly want an audience, now do we?” he asks as he walks slowly back towards you.

“No, no I guess not,” you reply, index finger bent with the nail between your teeth, a nervous habit shining through your casual demeanor.

Eddie stands mere inches away from you, breath fanning your face every time he exhales. He finds it hard to contain himself, wants nothing more than to have his hands on you. He steps even closer, looking down at you, loose strands of hair falling from his bun. He discarded the shirt he’d been holding onto the floor, and you find your eyes trailing down to his crotch, the slight bulge beneath the brightly colored fabric looking ever so appealing. His big brown eyes watch you intently, searching for any signs of your discomfort.

“You sure you want this?” he asks, voice steady.

“Yeah, ‘m sure. I’ve secretly been wanting you since we were fucking eighteen, so,” you laugh lightly, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth.

“Shit, you could’ve been teasing me with popsicles this whole time?” Eddie jokes, reaching his hands out and letting them gently rest on your hips.

You’re quiet, just admiring the soft freckles on his face and the warm brown of his eyes and those full pink lips. Eddie notices the way your eyes linger on his mouth, and his lips curl into a wicked grin.

“What’re you looking at me like that for, honey? Need something?” Eddie asks, teasing, his face so deliciously close to yours.

“Think I’m in serious need of mouth to mouth…” you say, trying to tease him back but your voice is breathy.

In an instant he’s swept you into a kiss. He groans softly as your hands climb up the back of his neck, tugging on his hair where it meets his scalp. His head is swirling, still fuzzy from the early July heat and now from the feel of your soft lips on his. You smell like sunscreen and chlorine, taste like artificial strawberry flavoring. Your lips are passionate yet gentle in their movements against his, and he wants to melt onto the floor for someone to mop up later. The kiss deepens rapidly before Eddie finally has to break away, the temperature in the large room growing to be unbearable. You read his mind before he can even say anything, and pull him into a shower stall, turning the water on to a comfortably cool temperature. You close the curtain behind you, and when you turn back to face him you drop to your knees, hands grabbing at the soft fabric of his swim shorts.

Eddie feels like he’s floating, like the scorching day got to his head and he’s having some weird fever dream hallucination. The feeling of your fingers ghosting over his happy trail and hooking under the waistband of his shorts brings him back down to earth. He sucks in a sharp breath as you tug the swim trunks down, his cock springing free a couple inches from your face. You’re mesmerized at the sight in front of you. He was big, longer than most you’ve seen but less thick. His cock seemed to stare you directly in the face, flushed pink tip leaking pre cum. A small patch of dark curls rested at the base, and his heavy balls hung low beneath. You lick your lips, cool water from the shower falling in small streams over his shoulders and down his chest. The smooth tile floor is hard against your knees, you’re sure they’ll be bruised and sore tomorrow. You grab the base of him, tapping the tip of his cock on your tongue a few times, looking up at him with wide doe eyes. Eddie hisses, grabbing fistfuls of your hair with his hands.

“Don’t be a tease, honey,” he growls down at you, and you look at him innocently.

“Me? Never,” you reply, taking the head of his cock in your mouth in one swift movement.

He inhales abruptly, then lets out a sigh as you slowly bob your head on his cock, adjusting to the warm feeling of your mouth. You take him as deep as you can, his tip hitting the back of your throat, making you gag around him. Eddie groans in response to this, pulling tighter on your hair, silently begging for you to do it again. You oblige, letting the head of his cock abuse your throat, mouth wide open for him.

“Fuck, baby, feels so fucking good,” Eddie’s voice is deeper than before, his eyes dark as they watch your movements.

You lean down further, sucking his balls into your mouth, letting your tongue roll over the stretchy skin. He genuinely yelps, surprised at the contact, eyes squeezed shut. You smile to yourself before sucking them into your mouth once again, Eddie’s whines and whimpers echoing throughout the walls of the building. You bring a hand up to toy with his balls as you redirect your mouth’s attention to the swollen tip of his cock, practically pleading for you to take it past your lips. Eddie’s in shambles as you lick and suck his sensitive head, cleaning the salty pre cum off with your tongue. You take him fully into your mouth again without warning, eliciting moans and curses as he steadies himself with one hand on the shower wall. The contrast between the cold water hitting his back and the sticky humid air tickling the skin of his chest made his head spin, the warmth of your mouth engulfing him only adding to the varying sensations. He feels himself inching closer and closer towards release, and he abruptly grabs your chin and pulls you gently off of him.

“Can I fuck you, baby? Need to be inside that pussy,” he’s trying to maintain his composure but the words come out like a whine, like he’s desperate for you.

You nod as you look up at him, admiring the water droplets that fall from his bangs and the tip of his nose, pussy throbbing between your thighs as his cock rests inches from your face.

“Use your words, pretty thing. Tell me I can fuck you,” Eddie coaxes you, pulling you to stand in front of him

“Yes, Eddie, please. Want you to fuck me,” your eyes are pleading and it makes his cock twitch.

He wraps his arms around to your backside, signaling for you to jump. He holds you securely, back now pressed against one of the shower walls, your legs wrapped around his waist. His lips are on yours instantly, tongue exploring the inside of your mouth with fervor as you whimper for him. His mouth travels down, kissing your jaw, your neck, your collarbone. Hot tongue licking your sticky skin, the faint taste of sweat lingering. He pushes the wet fabric of your swimsuit bottoms to the side, lining himself up with your entrance. He kisses you deeply as you feel him slide into you, stretching you open just for him, velvety walls snug around his cock. He groans into your mouth, pushing himself slowly in to the hilt, and your nails claw at his back in desperation. The stretch is so good your toes curl, your body begging and screaming for more.

“P-please, Eddie, oh my god,” you whine, Eddie’s lips now attacking your neck.

“What, honey? What do you need?” Eddie purrs, big hands squeezing the soft flesh of your ass.

“Need you to move, fuck me rough Eddie, please,” you beg him, clinging to him like a vice.

He gets his bearings on the slippery floor before rutting up into you, slick sounds of wet skin on wet skin bouncing around the shower stall. Eddie gasps as his cock fills you once more, every thrust reaching so deep, his thick fingers pressing into your smooth skin as he supports your weight. You can hear faint screams and laughter from the pool outside, and the reminder of the way no one on the outside knows what Eddie’s doing to you in here makes you dizzy with desire. Eddie’s grunting with every snap of his hips, hair frizzy and bangs sticking to his forehead, a panting mess as he fucks you like his life depends on it. You’re sure your lower back will be sore after this, every jolt to your body ramming you against the wall, but you’re too drunk on Eddie to care. The way your legs are wrapped around him opens you up for his cock to hit the perfect spot inside of you, and you’re screaming his name as he pounds relentlessly into your sopping cunt.

“Yeah? Feels good, baby? You like having my cock deep inside you?” Eddie rasps into your ear, hips moving at an unforgiving pace.

The friction against your clit as his body moves against yours paired with the way his cock hits your favorite spot inside of you has you approaching your release rapidly, your body aching to let go. Eddie’s close, too, moaning out strings of curse words and praise as your walls suck him in.

“Not gonna last much longer, honey, where do you want it?” he asks breathlessly, brown eyes blown wide as they search your face.

“Inside, need it inside,” you choke the words out, so blissed out it’s hard to speak.

Eddie picks up his pace, hips stuttering as he lets himself go. You feel his cock twitch, warmth spreading inside you as he pumps you full of his cum. Your orgasm hits you the second you feel him fill you, clenching around his already spent cock, milking him for everything he’s got. Eddie presses his forehead to yours, releasing the harsh grip on your hips as he gently sets you down. Your legs tremble, cum leaking out of you and dripping down the insides of your thighs. You rinse them off with the water from the shower head, before turning it off.

“Fuck, that was hot,” Eddie pants, pulling his swim trunks up before pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.

“When do you get off work? Maybe you could come over after,” your voice is shy as you suggest it.

“I’m the closing guard tonight, actually. Sooo… I could totally get fired for this, but if you wanted to come back here around 8pm after lock up, I could give you some, y’know, private swimming lessons,” he smirks, cheeks turning a slight shade of pink.

“Count me in, baby. I think I’m gonna be needing lessons weekly, though…” you trail off, heavy lidded eyes looking at him as you twirl his hair around your fingers.

“I can work with that,” Eddie grins, pulling you into a kiss.

As the heat of the day eventually fades into a hazy nightfall, Hawkins residents slowly filing out of the pool and returning home, Eddie thinks of nothing but you. Billy almost slugged him for leaving him in charge for so long, but in Eddie’s book it was worth it. Sure enough, at 8pm on the dot, you saunter towards the gate to the pool. In your left hand was another popsicle.

Eddie was sure you’d be the death of him tonight.

#eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x reader #lifeguard!eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic

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n0tamused · 6 months

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Can i request a drabble with Newbie Assistant reader! x jing yuan? I've been thinking (daydreaming) abt this for a while with my delulu brain. From what qingzu says, he prefers everyone adress him as jing yuan. And not full title.

Where reader is his wife and he can't go 1 minute without hugging her and worst part, she works at the seat of divine foresight and everyone at the seat has to witness his love sick behavior. I imagine especially fu xuan will be pissed like 'get to work, general!'

Honestly just a food for thought u don't have to take this srsly. Luv u, byeee <33

A/n: Anon you got my gears turning with this food and you have successfully dragged me out of the hole of writer's block. Thank you for that and I really hope you enjoy this little drabble I made, specifically for the second prompt! Man I love this man I wanna eat him. Just imagine him with a wife that's also on the strict side and just knows to get him back to his work but he just wants another kiss before he lets her leave his embrace-

Content: female reader, fluff, drabble

Big arms find their place around her waist and before she can pluck them off, Jing Yuan has slotted himself against her back. His chin rested on top of her shoulder and his golden eyes sluggish dragged their gaze over the documents his lovely wife was working on sorting out. A signature smile remained plastered over his lips even when he felt the scolding words bubble in your throat.

He never shared her shyness, as he called it, in the workplace. It was nothing that could damage either of their reputation, a little bit of hugging and a few cheek kisses here and there - if anything, he held firm belief that more warm displays of affection could even make the workplace be less stagnant. Why does everyone have to be so stiff? Jing Yuan knew to not cross any boundaries that could make his affections be perceived as something odd or even bad. But in an empty office, like the state it was in now, where no one paid them any mind, he really couldn’t help but pounce at the opportunity.

“Have you finished your paperwork so soon today, General?” she’d bite at him with her words, fully familiar with his tendencies to neglect the piling papers on his desk.

“Certainly. For today I have done the amount my hands could endure” Jing Yuan responded with a peck to the side of her exposed neck, smiling into her skin when he smelled some of his soap there. She smelled so warm, so relaxing, and it made him squeeze her in his arms just a little more. He heard his love exhale at his squeeze, and despite the facade she tried to keep on, he could see traces of a smile on her pretty lips when he lifted his gaze. “And what did we say about name calling? I’m Jing Yuan to you, your white lion, your husband, am I not?” He playfully nips at her ear, his warm breath fanning across her skin and making her hairs stand on their ends. “Or have you decided to take back your vows all of a sudden?” That gains a reaction out of you, a huff of a chuckle flying past your mouth at the absurd way he delivered that question. He sounded so serious about it, offended even, making her shift in his embrace.

“Jing Yuan-”

“You just keep gaining more beauty, my love, do you know?”

A long sigh and her shaking her head tell him enough, and he smiles when he sees her smile. “Don’t try to weasel your way out of this. Unhand me now, my dearest husband-” she says it as if she hates it, swatting at his hands until their grip falters. She could swat at them all she wanted but she knew that getting him off of her in this instant would be like trying to separate a nail from the flesh. “You may have done what you think is all for today, but I have more work to get to.. Tell you what..” her eyes finally grace him with the attention of her gaze and he feels like kissing her again, but he refrains as to hear her out. “If you tend to all those papers I’ll pamper your scoundrel self once we are back home, hm? If you don’t, well you can expect the cold shoulder and the couch as your bedroom until it gets done”

“You are too cruel to me, my dear, you hurt me so..” he feigns offense, all while he leans in and litters her cheek with feather kisses before he finally gets to her lips. One of his hands had snuck its way up and held her other cheek in its palm, tilting her head towards him as he pressed his lips against hers.

"You know I must resort to rougher measures when you're slacking off-" "Shhh.." he hushes her and places another kiss to her mouth.

Safe to say, that paperwork did get done later. And Jing Yuan got to enjoy a really touchy afternoon with you in his arms.

#jing yuan #jing yuan x reader #jing yuan x you #jing yuan x female reader #female reader #jing yuan x yn #jing yuan imagine #honkai star rail x you #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail imagine #hsr x reader #-dragon.treasure #imagine #fluff #fluff drabble #honkai star rail fluff

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the-monkeies-girl · 4 months

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So Far From Home. ( Caesar x Human!Reader Oneshot. )

My brain after watching Dawn: I'm in a glass case of emotion

Title: So Far From Home. Fandom: ( Dawn of the ) Planet of the Apes. Rating: T ( Mentions of injury, blood, death. ) Pairing: Heavily Implied - Caesar x Human! Reader. Words: 4.2K+ Summary: You had been with the Apes now for a year. Koba has sparked the rebellion, many Apes believing Caesar to be dead. He wasn't, and in one moment of vulnerability, he opens up to you about his past.

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Ellie had told you to not worry about the shallowness of his breathing, it was normal considering the extent of the damage the bullet did to his shoulder, the nature of infection slowly coming to terms along his body that occasionally trembled as if he were cold. Tightly knitting yourself into a ball on the floor next to the Ape King, you found that plausible. You were incredibly cold, your extremities felt like they were going to break into small pieces, they felt brittle. It was the rainy season once again and the dampness of the jacket you were wearing was doing nothing to help your situation as your eyes rested on the Ape next to you.

Even injured and in the throes of unconsciousness, he didn't lose the roughness of his brows. Always so intimidating and you longed to place your fingers against it to see if it would selfishly soften against your touch. Your fingers flickered at the thought as you brought your face down and kissed your forearm gently, secluding the lower half of your face behind your knees so your eyes were only visible as you kept watch.

The rise and then slow fall of his chest as Caesar was propped against the arm of the couch, accompanied by a pillow for comfort was rhythmic but there were a few times where it appeared he stopped breathing and panic would wash down you before you remembered what Ellie had told you. You tried to say it again and again. His breathing was going to be shallow, maybe even stagnant at points as his body was trying to heal itself with the very minimal use of antibiotics that Ellie had available in her satchel that Malcolm had to sneak into the Colony to acquire. He was injured beyond belief, especially for an Ape, and after laying in a shocked state on the floor of the Muir Woods in complete and drenched rain, silence and bitter chill, it was remarkably brutal when you had stumbled upon him.

The cry you left out, pushing right past Alexander, your knees skidding against the ground to the point where your cargo pants ripped, as you wanted to grasp at him immediately but you were pulled back by Malcolm once it was seen by him and Ellie that Caesar was heavily injured, cusping at the brink of death.

The stagger he had as you, Malcolm and Alexander pulled him to his feet, his head lulling towards your own and resting against the side as you held a good portion of his weight, trailing through the woods to the Land Cruiser and placing him in the back gently. His words… always so entrancing to you telling what actually happened. Koba, you had a feeling, was behind it and it all became vividly known once Caesar corrected Ellie who had made the assumption that the rebellion was caused by Humans. You looked at your hands pensively for a moment, uncoiling yourself from your crouched state. It was like you could still see his blood lingering on your digits and it made you uncomfortable to think about.

It was always a thought that the Humans, at least the three you had gotten to know alongside Caesar, would find your attachment to him unnatural. Untethered and inhuman. It was a tightrope you walked on after they had seen a Human amongst the Apes, but you had explained the situation rather precariously through the time you spent helping them with the dam. Never mates, you were explicit in that despite the underlying want to get there, but you owed Caesar your life for offering you refuge when you were found, starved to death. It was true, what some people said; if the Flu did not kill you, your ability to survive on basic necessities was going to become the forefront on whether or not you could stave death off. They held judgment though when you talked about it, and for that, you were forever grateful. It came to a mutual agreement of ‘you need to do what you need to do to survive in these times’ and it was very seldom brought up again.

You thought that you were going to need to explain your visceral response to seeing Caesar getting shot, to seeing him fall off the cliff edge, let alone the reaction seen in front of them all when you found his shell-shocked body but they never brought it up, even when you crawled into the back with Ellie as she worked nimbly to help the bleeding, your hands coming to grasp at Caesar’s head and hold it tenderly. It was hard to ignore the fact that he let you touch him so intimately, so closely and the flickering of your eyes between his own gaze told Ellie what she needed to know. But once again, never brought up again and you were once again, grateful to not have to dive into the aspects of the relationship you had with the King of Apes.

It… didn't seem all that comfortable to you as you looked at him, how his body was laying, but you supposed having been through what he just went through, anything but the cold floor of the woods would be better. You knew you were sitting in a small pile of mud from Blue Eyes’ feet standing here previously and he had just departed about fifteen minutes ago to rally those who still supported Caesar, as instructed by Caesar who had a great moment of lucidity before he tumbled into another dreamless fit of sleep. You were left to watch him - by choice, not by force. On the other side of the living room, you figured it might have been a dining room at one time, laid Ellie, Malcolm and Alexander, wound against each other with their blankets. You were envious of that - the warmth they must have felt as you let your eyes fall down to the wound on Caesar’s muscular chest.

It was hard to see in the dim light that was seeping in through the window and the shallow light of a broken lamp in the corner. His fur was so dark that the blood was ultimately undetectable unless you were really looking for it, some of his fur clumping together with the wetness. It was not as bad as it had been, at least you had that small dabble of optimism to cling to as you surveyed your surroundings for the first time, having been previously occupied helping Ellie with Caesar.

You had not been inside of an actual house in years, you tried to focus on something else other than Caesar’s breathing. Something that would take the edge off as you were now waiting for Blue Eyes to return with the rally. Across the bay, they were heavily rummaged through after the Flu wiped out most of the population, and in a bid to not get shot by another Human, you strayed away from them and focused your attention more on abandoned camps and Colonies that were spread around the area.

Your eyes turned for a second so you could look at the room you were in. The couch Caesar was against was bright orange and set into a frame of dark wood, explicitly noticeable given the low light you found yourself wrapped in. Trailing your fingers along the wood, you marveled at how smooth it was under touch and smiled dimly. There were shattered photographs lining along the baseboards, scattered like memories as they fell from the wall onto the ground. Grunting quietly, you lifted your body in an attempt to stave sleep off. It felt like you were trapped outside of your body, outside looking in and your feet trailed you around. There were no evident indications on your first sweep of the room of whose home this was, what kind of life they lived other than an abandoned piano across from where Caesar was laying. He brought you here though, a space of solace as Koba began to wage war on the Colony near the mouth of the Golden Gate Bridge. A place where… He was able to tell Malcolm where to drive like he had just been here the day before. The pictures you had seen decrepit on the floor, surrounded by shards of glass from the picture frame colliding with the ground and dust. You squinted and dropped your body into a squat as you reached for one of the frames.

Picking it up carefully, you shook the glass right out of the frame and dabbled the picture right out of the wood, holding it bare against your fingers. Swiping along it with your middle and pointer finger, the dust cleared away and you studied it intently. Three humans, you smiled at them in the photograph like they were smiling at you and not frozen in the endless vortex of time. Two men, one older, one younger and a female. A melancholic feeling hit your chest when you drifted your fingers over the young man and woman. You traced their faces with a gentle touch, wiping the dust away in the process. It felt like years since you had seen a genuine smile like theirs, like that of the young man in the picture. Since you had seen undiluted love like how the woman looked at him, and pure bond like the older man displayed to who you presumed to be his son. It had been years since you had seen these expressions within Humans, but you were reminded of the Apes.

How closely Caesar held Blue Eyes, brows kissing each other.

How, in rare moments of vulnerability, Caesar told you about Cornelia, about the shortened time they had together.

Your fingers lingered on the woman in the picture.

How you looked at Caesar, with such awe and wonder.

A moment captured for you to look at years later and feel painstakingly yearning. They remained captured in pictures. Forever immortalized until they faded into oblivion.

A shot of electricity went down your spine at the call of your name from a deep baritone, rounded with seeped deep agony. Quickly, you wiped your eyes of their budding tears and moved towards the Ape who had called your name, clutching the picture tightly to your chest. “Caesar.” You gasped out and bent to crouch near him so you were able to look at him eye to eye.

Heart sinking a bit in your chest at the state his face appeared to be in, so tired and forlorn with betrayal, his wrinkles seemed as prominent as ever as the lovely nature of his hazel eyes bore right into yours, reddened around the edges. “Blue Eyes isn’t back yet,” You started, figuring that’s where the conversation was going to go either way. “You--- You should rest,” The voice you were using was nothing more than a whisper, your eyes flickering for a moment to the entry point on his shoulder and then back to meet his gaze. “Ellie said resting was the best thing for you to do---” “Do… not feel... like resting.” Caesar said through gritted teeth and pensively shut his eyes for a few seconds, and when he reopened them, they were fixated on the ceiling above with a sparkle of what you would describe as being familiar like he had been here before. With a wash of air against you, Caesar propped his body up further so he was sitting up rather than laying stagnantly. At least he was able to support his body weight, you thought and inadvertently reached forward to help him, but shook off your attempt once he looked at you again with an intent glance. Shuffling around a bit, you realized that Caesar sat up so you could sit down next to him, giving enough room on the ledge of the couch for you to rest somewhat comfortably against his legs. Resting the picture you had in your hands in your lap, you raised your hand and lightly let your fingertips float above his wound. Never actually making contact with it, but you were so near to him that Caesar’s body tensed in anticipation of you actually making contact. “What… What happened?” “Koba… Started this… I must end it… Before it is too late…” He muttered to you and looked at the photograph in your lap for a few seconds too long, an oddly reminiscent sensation taking hold of the Ape King’s chest and swelling it with the uncomfortable notion that you had deduced where you were before he had the opportunity to tell you himself. But, from your lack of questioning regarding the matter, that did not seem to be the case. Caesar drew a raggedly breath in, squeezing his eyes shut as a splash of fire radiated along his chest, across his entire pectoral region despite the wound being on his left shoulder. It had already begun, the war itself. There was nothing that Caesar could do now to stop it, even Caesar had to know that despite his best efforts to presume that it was not a logical possibility.

Still, he moved, still he preserved and survived, sending his son to gather the troops that were as loyal as ever to their King with a plan and what you hoped to be a successful execution. The support he got from his child, from the Apes who refused to follow Koba into battle, was remarkable, and just seeing the respect he garnered by simply walking into a room always left you breathless. That kind of support that humanity lost throughout the years and it was only peppered amongst the bigger colonies and camps, and no doubt, it was going to get worse once they allied against another enemy. He was in pain, surely, but knowing him, you knew he was going to push past it for the sake of the Apes and their rights to freedom.

“Never wanted… to come back here…” He gestured vaguely, eyes blurring out of focus for a second, moving his uninjured shoulder a bit to bring your attention to the room you were in, “This place…” His voice was hitting in a deeply rich tone, coming straight from his chest and bubbled shamelessly around you. No matter what he said, no matter how it was directed at you, you would always find yourself listening and yearning for more.

“You know this place…?” Of course he did, you thought to yourself. He just said that! Tightening your grip on the photograph in your hands, you clenched your jaw at his meager head nod, the question you had asked was rebudent and did not need a verbal confirmation. “Wh--- Where are we?” “In the city,” He grunted softly, looking at the photograph in your hands again. This time, you caught the minor movement and flipped it over gently so he could see what was actually printed on the other side. Caesar only glanced at it a moment before preemptively moving his eyes to an indirect source on the wall to the left. “A place… from another time…”

He moved next to you again, this time urging you to move as well as his legs hit against your back. You drifted to your feet slowly and watched as he placed his feet onto the ground and hoisted his torso up with a sweeping movement. “Come,” He was suddenly standing, and you went to grab him before he tumbled straight back down. Caesar only held up a hand, telling you to stop and that he was more than capable of moving now. He better have been, knowing where he was going once Blue Eyes returned. “I… will show you…”

Silence hit the two of you like a blanket as he stepped forward, bracing his entire weight on one foot first to see if he was okay to proceed. Nodding to himself, Caesar assessed and began trailing towards the stairs, and upwards. It was obvious from the gait of his walk and how he was holding himself with one arm that the pain was eradicating all his other senses, and yet… He still moved, determined almost. On the landing, your eyes caught focus of the books that were strewn about the built in bookcases lining the wall. All the good material was taken, a few encyclopedias and music books remaining now.

Then, to the right. You had your suspensions, but now? Confidence beamed inside of your head that your intuition was correct, that Caesar had vast knowledge of this home, where to go, where things may have been hidden. In his bloodied state, he gestured you up the ladder towards the attic, and with a contemplative stare at him, his unequivocal, you succumbed and moved upwards, Caesar right behind you.

With a small ‘thud’ of your feet against the wooden floor, you scooted to the side for the Ape behind you to come to rest his feet on the floor. Rest, he did not though. There was a wash of familiarity on his face as he looked into the room, bending his head down enough to get in from under the beam that had fallen from the ceiling. He had resumed his regular movements, broad, intimidating, but his expression was beyond that and seeped at you intense vulnerability.

Swallowing gently, you followed him, almost like you were in a dream like state. This… place… You looked at the gymnastic-like set up, chains holding onto loops, one chain dangling, holding a weight at the end, only a few inches off the ground that Caesar grasped into his powerful hand and shifted to the left and watched it in a hypnotic state as it moved back towards him. There was a chess-board, or at least, that’s what it appeared to be as you moved towards the bed, lightly placing your fingers against a pawn as Caesar’s attention was captured by a cam-corder sitting on the desk. Almost hesitantly, he picked it up and analyzed it as he so often did with human technology in his possession.

“This was,” The screen flashed blue against his already stark features, illuminating it just enough for you to see the flood of what had to be tears right under his eyes. “My home.”

Mouth agape now at that confession, you suddenly had so much to ask but so little came out as he finnicked around the cam-corder, unplugging it with one hand as he moved towards the bed to finally rest. Much needed, he thought to himself and shut his eyes as his body weight fell onto the mattress. Rounding the iron framing of the twin bed, you felt heavy next to him. His… home? This place? This house? You knew that he lived with Humans, that he had been raised by them, but you had no idea the extent. In your mind, you could see the photograph ingrained on your eyelids, despite it being tucked away in your back pocket for safe keeping. No reason to keep it, you just felt a pull to.

Caesar, Caesar, look.

At the sound of a human, you instinctively kicked yourself out of your inner thoughts and realized that the Ape had begun playing whatever was recorded on the device he had intense interest in.

Apple.

Good!Fixation was heavy on the small screen as you both watched it. The man… The same one from the photograph in your pocket and… Widening your eyes in shock, seeing the all encompassing scar on his chest, your mouth felt dry all of a sudden when you came to the candance that you were seeing Caesar… Young… incredibly so, he was so small, the innocence that lingered in his gaze as he looked at the Human showing him sign, the reminiscent stare he now had at the screen. It was flooding back, wave after wave, knowing that Chimpanzee’s couldn’t swim and he’d be brutally swept up in them. Home. Gently said.

Home. A bit more sternly.

Home. Adamantly.

You were glad to have a voice to the face.

Yes. He chuckled and that prickled at your ears. The sound of a Human laughing, and it must have evoked something to Caesar as he huffed in response to seeing himself younger, reaching out with one of his arms to grasp at the man. This is your home. Your home.

Good, good… That’s good.

The screen flashed a vibrant blue right as the young Caesar had gone to embrace the man, three small beeps coming to the device. That’s all that was on there. Introspectively, the camera was shut, the screen no longer giving any illumination against Caesar’s face as it rested lightly on the bed beside him.

“Was that…” Your voice came out remarkably quiet and timid, not quite sure if it was appropriate to speak, “That man, was he…?” “A… good man.” You looked at the recorder and then trailed your gaze up Caesar’s body. He wasn’t closing himself off like he often did when you’d bring up the past, about personal details. Your eyes met, and in the soft moonlight that came through the window, you moved towards him, one step… two… And suddenly, you were right in front of him, between the legs he had open for balance as he sat. His eyes rested on your mild collarbone for a few seconds, admiring the gentle nature of your breathing before he shut them and you were no longer able to drown in the color you had come to adore.

“He raised you.” Nothing more than a peep, Caesar reacted to that with semi-tightened shoulders and a curt nod of the head. “What was… his name?” His jaw moved unexpectedly, dancing forwards and backwards in deep contemplation as his teeth gilded against each other. Caesar had known you were going to ask, but he hadn’t expected the video, he hadn’t expected it to be so difficult to answer, to just say a simple name. So difficult to see him again, to hear his voice, to see himself before the Rise, and before he stepped until weighted down power and responsibilities.

He felt so torn; the knowledge that he would not be there in front of you without the downfall of them. The resistance he had all these years not to think about them, not to remember them as individuals, but as a whole. Humans. But you… were human, and you were not a whole to Caesar. You were an individual, he’d consider you an equal in knowledge and understanding, and if he had been thinking in all logical and illogical perspectives, you would be equal in other, more satisfyingly quipped ways.

Maybe, he told himself with a blur of his eyes as he tried to focus on you in front of him, maybe if this ended and he defeated Koba, and if he found a solemn and safe place for the Apes to go to, he’d change that if you were willing to accept.

“Will,” Caesar finally spoke and you felt your breath exhale at that, you hadn’t even noticed you were holding it in. “And… the others,” Unexpectedly, he reached around and tugged the photograph from your back pocket. The fact that he knew it was there shouted at you that he was always paying attention to even the smallest movements, as you had shoved it into your pocket quickly when he stood up earlier. “Caroline,” His thick finger pointed at the woman, then swept to the old man, “Charles.” You looked at them and traced their faces. Will, Caroline and Charles… Caesar’s family before he… Gently, you folded the photograph up as you grasped it from him. He did not protest, but looked up at you with sunken eyes. “I-I’m sorry, I never should have…” “They… were good,” Caesar chided and scooted over for you to sit down next to him. Enjoying the sensation of the bed dipping in as you dropped next to him, he continued in a rumbling voice, quite enough that you wouldn’t wake the others downstairs, “Reason why… I… choose to believe… in the good… in you.” You knew that he was talking in broadened terms, that he did not mean explicitly you. But, it was taken that way, and you figured that Caesar was intuitive to know how his words were going to come across once they fell on your ears. How his glances at you were going to be interpreted. “You miss them.”

That wasn’t a question, it was a fact. An irrefutable one as Caesar drew his gaze into your own, deeper than the ocean and intense that it took the breath right out of your lungs and you felt like you were scrabbling for air. Wrapped up again in silence, you found your eyes lightly dancing between his own, and you were so near, you could smell the irony nature of the blood that was clinging to his fur, feeling his hot breath against his face as his mouth fell open. Caesar didn't feel the need to say anything from that, making his answer evident enough by bringing you into the room he once called his own.

‘I do not dwell on them.’ He signed at you, almost like he was trying to convince himself that he wasn’t telling you a lie, that it was the truth, that he did not dwell, or think about them, late at night by himself. Caesar tilted his head to the side wearily. He couldn’t even bring himself to say it verbally. ‘Pointless,’ your eyes watched his fingers and hands move, ‘To live in the past..’

“Not pointless to forget, though.” Muttering softly, Caesar watched your lips form the words with deep intent. “We… can’t live in the future without remembering our past.”

#caesar #caesar x reader #planet of the apes #pota #planet of the apes x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #emmy writes #kingdom of the planet of the apes #kotpota

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pellucid-constellations · 1 year

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Angstober 🎃

Prompt: "What's Wrong"

A/n: Hi surprise! I've decided to do some drabbles for angstober!! They won't be every day and it will be very informal, but I feel like this is a great opportunity for writing! I'll be making a masterlist for these drabbles soon. Enjoy!! :)

~~~

“What’s wrong?”

His voice was broken, anguished. You were sure you’d never heard the tone before, the way the words cracked over each other and crumbled into a rasp.

Nothing was wrong. Nothing felt wrong.

“Please, what’s wrong?” he tried again, and somehow those words hit you harder than the first time.

Nothing was wrong. Nothing hurt. But—you thought, as words refused to pass the parting of your lips—nothing was right either. You were stuck, immovable. You felt hands on your face, and there was still the ache that blossomed in your chest as Bucky’s voice echoed there, but there was nothing else. You couldn’t move.

You couldn’t move.

“Baby, come on.” The hands on your face were moving in untraceable patterns, rushed and illogical. “Come on. Come on, please.”

How did you get here? There wasn’t a clear path. You’d been alone, there had been darkness, and then there was this strange, stagnant air that refused to leave you. You’d been alone for such a long time.

“I don’t wanna hurt you. We found you, baby. We finally fucking found you. Please snap out of this. Tell me how to help you.”

You weren’t sure if this unbearable pain invading your lungs would be livable long term. You weren’t sure how to follow Bucky’s request. You were seeing him but you weren’t. He was talking to you but he was really talking to a brick wall.

There was another light in the room, a door opening and more footsteps echoing in whatever chamber you had found yourself in. How long had that door been closed? Days? Weeks? Bucky would tell you if you had the capability to ask.

“I love you so fucking much. Please. Please.”

“Barnes, we can’t take her like that.”

The deeper voice was alarming—recognizable but distant in your memory. You preferred the gentleness of Bucky’s tone.

“To hell with whatever Shield expects me to do here,” Bucky seethed, eyes never leaving you. “We’ve been looking for her for over a year. You really expect me to leave my girl hooked up to this thing?”

“She’s gone, Sergeant. No life signs reported on the scan. No activity.”

That wasn’t true. You were hearing everything. Some part of your consciousness was still here.

“Her heart’s beating. She’s there. Get someone. Help her,” Bucky demanded, the breath from his words on the skin of your face. He was so close and you could do nothing about it.

“That’s all she has left. Hydra’s had her hooked up to this machine for months with no brain activity other than what they’ve created. We can’t bring her back to the tower, Barnes. She’s already gone.”

A cry—no, a sob—reverberated against the stone walls.

No. No. You weren’t gone. You were screaming at them but no sounds were escaping you. You were here, you could feel Bucky’s lips as they trembled and pressed to your temple. What scan were they reading? It was wrong.

“No,” Bucky denied with thick, heavy words. “No, Fury, you can’t say that. You don’t get to say that to me. I’ve made her my top priority since the moment she went missing and it’s been like pulling teeth getting help. I finally get someone to pay attention to me and you give up? No.”

You were being compressed now. Bucky was wrapping himself around you, coveting you as if you were a possession he needed to protect. You wondered if it was due to the finality in Fury’s tone—if there was something you were missing. Something you couldn’t see.

“Barnes, there’s nothing we can do. She’d be a danger if we got her out of here.”

Another kiss was pressed to your skin, damp this time, tears soaking into your cheek. They weren’t yours. You weren’t sure if you could cry anymore.

“I’m not giving up on you,” Bucky whispered against your ear. More footsteps entered the room. “You’re gone, so am I.”

So much noise.

The small, echoing chamber erupted into a cacophony of uninterpretable noises.

And you couldn’t see, but something was wrong now. You would tell Bucky as soon as you woke up.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes #angstober2023 #day 06

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cuffmeinblack · 4 months

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Game On

Garreth Weasley x f!reader

See the full art

Tags: explicit | modern AU | rugby player!Gar | semi-public sex | blowjobs

3.3k words

Summary: Garreth draws attention whenever he plays, but you've had enough of the spectators' ogling and decide to show them who he belongs to.

A/n: Big rugby men make my brain go brrrrrrrr. Anyway this has zero plot and finesse as expected but damn it's a good time.

The midday sun blazed, grass beneath your shoes crunching, scorched to a crisp. Early Summer had brought with it an unseasonable heatwave, such that the air grew stifling and stagnant like a swamp. What scant shade was produced by the nearby brutalist concrete structures which housed your university’s young hopefuls had been gobbled up by enthusiastic spectators, huddled together with expressions of possessive ire, fearful that they might lose their prime positions. You walked on towards the front of the stands where the heat was at its most intense yet afforded you the best view; it would be worth it, after all.

If you were suffering simply sauntering by, Garreth must have been sweltering in that stuffy changing room—you'd had enough after-practice rendezvous to know just how thick the air could get, mingled with sweat and shower vapours and the heady scent of sex. But despite the uncomfortable heat, you would never dream of missing a match for two very important reasons: the first, that showing your unwavering support of your boyfriend in his endeavours boosted his morale immeasurably; the second, that Garreth looked so unintentionally tantalising when he played that the whole eighty minutes was akin to watching an exotic dance performance, with more bruises and aggression that only added to the allure.

The boys were already on the pitch warming up by the time you sat down, all clad in red shorts and vests emblazoned with the uni logo that left little to the imagination. You caught a number of groups of giggling girls in the stands blatantly pointing and ogling; irritating, yes, but Garreth saw you and waved enthusiastically, unperturbed by all the attention he was drawing. One could never be too smug in such a situation, and so you flashed him a toothy smile in return.

He knelt in the grass as he adjusted his ridiculous hairband (that you teased him about endlessly), stretching out his adductors with a concentration befitting a professional. For all your idle fascination with his thighs, he was a dedicated sportsman through and through. He took his rugby career seriously, throwing as much energy into training as his actual degree, whilst endlessly hoping to be scouted by one of the union clubs. The other lads had similar aspirations—it was surely the only reason they'd be out here in this absolute furnace for a friendly game.

You fanned yourself with a leaflet you found in your bag, chugging water as you waited for the game to start. The crowd was already starting to get restless as the stands filled and all around you many of the spectators made it clear that they weren't here for the sport.

“That ginger one's fit,” a young blonde said, followed by a fit of giggles.

You held back the urge to chuck your plastic bottle at her head, thankfully distracted by the referee's appearance onto the pitch. With a lurch of your stomach, you saw that he was in conversation with a young woman with the telltale lanyard and clipboard of a club professional. Of course they would be scouting on today of all days, the blistering heat weeding out the weakest players with subpar endurance. Garreth had noticed her too, nudging his teammates as shock and awe passed over their faces one by one.

The rest of the team melted away as you kept your eyes on Garreth, taking up his position behind the scrum. This was generally when you started to feel the prickle of excitement and nerves as the teams eyed each other up and the field fell silent, waiting for the whistle.

As soon as play started, all hell broke loose. Garreth played with such focus and ferocity, entirely the opposite to his laidback and cheerful self off the pitch. He directed his team without hesitation, attacking more aggressively than usual, always driving forward. By half-time his team were leading by ten points. You could already see a tear in Garreth’s shirt, dust caking his knees and a smile between his pink cheeks, but the heat was starting to sap the energy of every player as they panted and stretched in what little shade they could find.

When play resumed, only the presence of the club scout could explain the carnage that ensued. The game was so incredibly vicious, the contact between bodies so intense that the crowds erupted in hisses and roars so innumerable they blended into a singular jarring uproar.

Hands grasped at shorts, wrapped around waists and heads buried between muscular thighs as the clash ensued, a ferocious battle that you couldn’t help but find erotic.

Garreth held the ball in the final few minutes of the match, and he decided to make a run for it. The scrum of bodies was still but a flailing mess as he sprinted around and launched the ball back at his mate in the wing; back and forth it went, attacks from every side until finally Garreth found himself curled on the grass, the final try before a shrill whistle ended the game and the crowds erupted.

You were shouting and clapping with the rest of them as the players exchanged handshakes, the euphoria practically oozing from every pore. Garreth was in your eyeline, but he was the subject of many other hungry gazes, including the young woman with the lanyard. They shook hands and talked, Garreth beaming all the while as a swell of pride bloomed large in your chest. But the blonde you’d instantly taken a dislike to was weaving her way through the crowds, muttering something to her friend as they linked arms. You decided to follow whilst keeping those distant copper curls in your sights.

The friend was asking blondie a question, making a show of leaning in in some conspiratorial manner. “Do you think he’s got a girlfriend?”

“Don’t know, don’t care. I don’t see one, do you? He’s probably gagging for it after that game.”

You almost laughed at her crassness, inching closer towards her as she teetered along in ridiculous heels that sank into the dusty ground. She smoothed her hair, and Garreth finally looked in your direction, finished with his conversation. She must have thought he was looking at her as she gave a small wave and the girls devolved into more giggles as Garreth smiled back with an adorable head tilt of confusion. You should have said something, but the scene was far too amusing, and so you hung back, listening to blondie use her best flirtatious purr at your boyfriend.

“You were amazing. Could I get your autograph?”

You couldn’t help it—you snorted with laughter. Garreth blinked and grinned like a cheshire cat, looking over blondie’s shoulder at you with an expression that screamed ‘help me’. It was about time you put a stop to this charade. Overtaking the pair at a jog, you flew into Garreth’s arms, his emerald eyes only for you, and his lips finding yours with a relieved sigh. You heard the scoffs and disappointed huffs that only made his kiss sweeter, the wolf whistles that ensued when his tongue slipped eagerly into your mouth.

Perhaps she’d been right; he probably was gagging for it, given the intensity of the match and the proceeding victory. Garreth held you firm against his sweaty skin even as you broke apart, still smiling, but now his eyes thoroughly smouldered—a look you knew all too well. It tugged at your chest and something writhed, hot and insistent, low in your abdomen; the tingle of arousal you’d felt the moment you laid eyes on him now a barely contained flame.

There was no point in being subtle in your intentions. You took his hand from your waist, dragging him through the thinning crowds to the first private place your mind had sprung to.

“You’re eager. Where are you taking me?” he asked, unable to keep the sheer joy from his voice.

You turned to tug his drenched vest, a voiceless hint at urgency. As you turned a corner behind the back of the changing rooms, a small alleyway led out into a private car park. Your car sat inconspicuously in the corner in the shade of a towering oak tree, far from the distant spectators, still chanting in jubilation.

“I’m guessing you’re not going to drive us back to my dorm,” Garreth teased, grabbing a handful of your behind as you came to a stop next to the vehicle.

“No, I’m not sitting in traffic when I could be—”

You were promptly spun around and pulled in for another kiss, your response muffled into a pleased moan. Fumbling for your car keys whilst Garreth fumbled with your breasts, you heard the click of the lock and flung open the back passenger side door, diving across the seats with a giddy laugh. You gave the car park a cursory sweep but it was still quiet and empty.

Garreth climbed in after you, a much harder feat given his size, clambering on top of you as soon as the door shut. Your lips were glued, tongues dancing over each other. Garreth's weight felt good on top of you, even more so the thigh he'd slid between your legs. Corded muscle pressed against your heat, firm and solid. Your hips rose to meet him, shamelessly seeking friction to relieve the ache between your legs. He helped you along the way, pulling your hips to grind harder into his thigh. He must have felt how wet you were already, underwear soaked through to his skin.

You needed more than just his leg, as deliciously thick as they were, but Garreth was far too tall for the back seats to do much of anything in that horizontal position. You urged him backwards, and he got the idea soon enough, inching back to sit upright. You wasted no time climbing onto his lap, straddling his thighs as the muscles twitched from exertion, wrapping your arms around his wide shoulders as you looked at him—really looked at him, now that you had the time. He was smiling of course, glowing almost; eyes tracing down the curve of your neck with a predatory lick of his lips. You wiped a white smudge of sunscreen from his cheeks and finally pulled off his hairband, letting the copper curls fall freely over his sun kissed freckles. Then you pressed your lips to his, without inhibition, and the flood gates opened.

Garreth groaned at your exuberance, fingers grasping eagerly at your flimsy vest top that peeled away from heated skin with a mere suggestion. He didn’t stop there, apparently desperate to see you completely bare in the back of your car with no regard for the consequences. Perhaps it was the sweltering heat that urged him onwards, the cracked window doing little to help. What little layers clothed you came off, his lips and hands trailing silent love letters to every peak and crevice. He nibbled at the nape of your neck as your face buried in his hair, the scent of him drawing out your own tongue; he shuddered as you laved at his ear, the skin salty from sweat.

“Is this all because I caught the attention of that scout or are we celebrating something else?” he murmured into your ear, making you shudder as his breath caressed your skin.

You were down to just your knickers now whilst Garreth still wore his shorts, the thin fabric leaving no doubt as to how much he was enjoying the attention. The playing field wasn't quite even.

“That, and I want to make it perfectly clear that you're well and truly mine.”

He chuckled and lifted his hips as you slid off his lap to tug down his shorts. “There's nobody else here, babe.”

“Well they can imagine where I dragged you off to.”

His underwear peeled off with them, the rolled fabric falling to the footwell with a gentle thump. You weren't paying the slightest bit of attention to where any item of clothing had ended up when Garreth sat entirely naked in front of you. He looked rather pleased with himself, stretched out in what little space there was with his arms behind his head and his heavy cock laying proud across his abdomen.

You just about suppressed a groan as you dipped your head, much to his surprise, bracing your hand on his thigh as you took him into your mouth without a second thought. Garreth gasped and swore, fingers winding their way into your hair from the first teasing lick. His scent was heavy, musky, but by no means unpleasant, and the salt on your tongue tasted like victory. His girth filled your mouth, every moan stifled somewhere deep in your throat.

“Fuck, fuck…” Garreth whispered, his voice hoarse and laced with desire.

You kept a steady rhythm with a hand firmly planted at the back of your head whilst the other roamed the bare expanse of your skin—tracing the contours of your back with a featherlight touch that belied his complete loss of control. His hips snapped up to meet your mouth, almost choking you in the process.

“Babe, I'm gonna come if you keep this up.”

With a final firm lick up the length of him, your mouth left his cock swollen and twitching against his stomach once again. You smiled up at him, hair mussed and a faint sheen of sweat beginning to form across your body.

“Don't you dare.”

“Come here then,” he grinned, tapping his leg whilst simultaneously manhandling you on top of him.

Garreth buried his face against your chest, groaning into the flesh, ready to devour. You played idly with his fiery curls in a blissful haze as his tongue flicked and twirled around your nipples; teeth grazed those sensitive peaks and you toed the line between exquisite pleasure and pain. You pulled at his hair in response, his ensuing moans causing a ripple of arousal, a flutter deep in your very core.

“Gar…”

His name sighed so sultrily seemed to spark something in him. Strong hands gripped your waist and pulled you against his broad chest, holding you firm, and before you could question a thing he brought you down on his cock. He impaled you in one swift motion, leaving you breathless with the sudden fullness. Your mouth fell open in shock, clinging to him so tightly a more fragile man might have broken. But he didn't shatter, not even as your nails raked his skin and drew blood. His teeth nipped at your neck, the familiar sting of fresh bruises blooming.

Your hips moved of their own accord, slowly at first but growing more insistent. One drawback to being crammed into your car was that your head bumped on the roof the more enthusiastic you were bouncing.

“Fucking…car…”

Laughing at the ridiculousness but still frustrated you slowed your pace and leaned back, rolling your hips until you found that sweet spot. Your moans entwined in the muggy air, a blissful delirium taking over. Garreth's head fell back against the headrest but still his eyes lingered on you, lidded and full of hunger as they flitted across bare swathes of skin to meet your own gaze. His hand cupped your arse, squeezing in rhythm to your movements whilst the other trailed a path down your waist to your hips, his thumb pressing firm against your clit.

A great swell of relief, pleasure flooding every extremity until your body threatened to fall apart under his digit’s tight circles. You looked at him so deep in concentration whilst he brought you to the edge, licking his lips in anticipation as your legs started to shake.

“Are you going to be a good girl and come for me?” he teased.

You could only manage to stutter a ‘yes’ before the coiling tension snapped and launched a thrilling cascade of pleasure through your already limp body. You fell against Garreth, his arms ready to catch you as you rode out your orgasm, muttering sweet nothings in your ear. Tangled in his hair, whimpering until the last wave.

He was still buried inside you as you stilled, so very tired but still wet and willing. You felt the twitch of his cock, his steadily thrusting hips that yearned for more. Your own legs quaked as you adjusted yourself, ready to start your gentle rocking once again, but Garreth had other ideas.

Eyes glittering and practically feral, they bore into you with such intensity it made your heart skip a beat. He took your chin between his thumb and forefinger—as if you needed to be guided to look at him—and he smiled at your blissfully dazed expression, satisfied that he'd done his job.

“Let me take over, okay?”

Garreth didn't wait for your assent, pulling you in for a searing kiss, his arm locking around your waist. You were pinned against him, sweat-slick skin pressed hot together. You expected him to flip you over, struggle around on the tiny back seats, but instead he lifted you off him, until only the very tip of his cock remained nestled inside your heat.

You whined at the loss of him, grasping at his hair.

“What—”

His answer came with a hard thrust from below. He held you tight, hovering just inches above his lap as he drove his cock inside you again and again. It was beyond comprehension how he had enough energy after his match to fuck you so hard, but he was absolutely relentless in chasing his release. Moans, whimpers and the wet slap of skin created a deafening cacophony. You tried to form a coherent plea, but it was swallowed by Garreth's greedy kisses, his tongue delving deep into your mouth.

“Ha-...harder,” you managed to sigh against his lips.

“Harder? God, you're such a fucking greedy girl.”

You grinned deliriously as Garreth laced his fingers into your hair and did exactly as you asked. His pace was brutal, and so deliciously bruising; Garreth fucked as rough as he played rugby, if you so asked for it.

His breath was starting to falter, you felt the hitch against his chest and the sharp intakes of air as he stole your very oxygen. He was close, so close.

“Gonna come for me?” You echoed his earlier tease.

“Mmmh-...gonna fill you up.”

You whined into his mouth, walls fluttering around his cock as you felt another orgasm mounting. Garreth moaned louder now, squeezing his eyes shut, his mouth delving against your neck to leave yet more love bites in the throes of passion. They would remind you of this very moment, such treasured momentos. As he drew your skin between his teeth, your orgasm hit, and so did his.

You fell into his lap in a heap as he lost control of his limbs, cock pulsing and filling you with hot ropes of his release. His muscles twitched and body shuddered, the suction on your neck abating until his head fell back.

He was beautiful this way—mouth agape with kiss-swollen lips of cherry red, the flush of his skin a delicate rose beneath smatterings of freckles. His eyelids fluttered over mossy irises, glittering and unfocused in his fucked-out daze. The corners of his mouth curved into a smirk as his body finally relaxed, every last drop of energy spent. His release had filled you so completely, but you didn't squirm, only relished the way it felt dripping down your thighs.

“Congratulations, Gar,” you said with a breathless giggle, laying your head against his shoulder.

Garreth kissed your head and stroked your hair, so gentle in contrast to how he'd been only seconds before that spoke volumes of his love for you. His embrace was safety and happiness.

“I definitely feel like a winner today.”

#weasley wednesday #garreth weasley #garreth weasley smut #garreth weasley x reader

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sunshinechay · 3 months

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So I finally caught up on My Stand In after being 3 episodes behind due to irl reasons.

The last three episodes have been a lot and while I’m sad to have missed the weekly discussions, I’m also kind of glad I watched all three at once because it gave me the opportunity to get to watch Ming’s progress rapidly rather than waiting (which my ADHD brain is very happy about) and the one thing really stuck with me through all three episodes.

Of the three who knows Joe is Joe, Ming is the only one to figure it out completely on his own. He doesn’t overhear anything, he isn’t told by anyone. Even the priest (is that what he is? Citation needed) won’t give Ming the straight answer he seeks. Joe is neither dead nor alive but a secret third thing, his soul has transmigrated to another body entirely.

Before, when he didn’t know, we got the small kernels of change. Ming is much more straight forward than he used to be. While he was never one to mince words, he is more truthful and up front, even with Joe 2.0. He is honest with him from the start about exactly what he wants. He doesn’t tell Joe the real reason why he wants it, but that’s understandable given that no one else is willing to believe Ming when he says Joe is still alive. So why tell this new stand in why you want him to be so.

Then he figures it out. He puts together the context clues and believes the impossible because he’s the only one who never gave up hope that Joe would come home, would come back to him. Joe does come back to him and Ming immediately sets out to ensure that Joe exactly where he stands in terms of how Ming feels about him. Ming needs Joe to understand exactly what he wants. Ming is probably always going to be the type of person who will use underhanded tactics in certain situations, but it’s completely understandable why he uses the contract to keep Joe with him.

Ming offers up explanations where Joe didn’t ask for them, because he knows that Joe deserves them, whether or not he asks for them. He wants Joe to understand that he regrets a lot of his past actions, including what he did for Tong at the end. Ming had all but admitted that if he could go back and change it, he would.

Ming is willing to confront so many issues head on. He is learning to deal with his emotions in a way that is more productive for them all. He has started to feel more of his emotions out loud in a way he didn’t before. He promised himself he would change if Joe ever came back and so far he has kept his promise. He will better himself and he will grow. He will no longer be stagnant.

He is even willing to tell his father that he is dating Joe. The mere mention of it clearly terrifies him more than he has the words to express, something that Joe picks up on right away and tries to protect both of them from. Preemptively breaking up with Ming to try and save them both a worst heartbreak than simply breaking up.

Tong had spent so much of the show attempting to prove again and again that Ming is under his thumb. He knew that Ming was in love with him in the past and still believes he is now, but he is wrong. Ming will no longer allow himself to be manipulated by Tong and by extension his mother. So he will shoot their ace out of the sky by doing the one thing that terrifies him the most. He will tell his father that he is gay. That he is gay and dating a man. A man named Joe.

He will accept what comes next because the only other options is to lose Joe and Ming absolutely will not do that for a second time. He is willing to lose everything, as long as it means he doesn’t lose Joe.

#my stand in #my stand in the series #mingjoe #joeming #my stand in meta #kind of #mostly i’m just rambling #finally caught up and i’m so happy i did #ming is such an amazing character #and no i will not be taking criticism at this time #i finally understand how people feel about vegas #because i feel that way about ming #he is my wet and pathetic little meow meow #and i love him so much #anyway this is unedited as per usual #sorry not sorry #cap watches my stand in #cap speaks

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thisapplepielife · 4 months

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Written for a @astrangersummer.

Set Sail on Your Ocean of Flavor

Week #6 Prompt: Ice Cream | Word Count: 2560 | Rating: T | POV: Chrissy | Characters: Chrissy, Eddie, Steve, Robin | Pairings: Platonic Stobin, Everything Else is Open to Interpretation (Steddie, Buckingham, Hellcheer, or Cheerscoops? Reader's Choice.) | CW: None | Tags: Pre-S3, Summer 1985, Scoops Ahoy, Chrissy's on a Break from Jason, Spontaneously Hanging Out, Different Crossing of Paths

Chrissy watches as one more tally is marked in the 'you suck' column, and she feels like maybe that's meant for her, too, not just Steve Harrington in his dumb little sailor hat. She dumped Jason, again, but knows it probably won't stick. It never does, and she's not even sure if she wants it to. She doesn't know what she wants, never has, and now she feels like maybe she never will.

Hence, the 'you suck' mentality that seems fitting tonight.

It's just that they've been together since freshman year, and well, she can't really imagine going into their last year without him. She isn't sure she even knows how to be just Chrissy anymore. She feels stagnant, and honestly, a little bit pigeonholed into these roles that have been selected for her: Jason's girlfriend. Cheer captain. Bubbly arm candy, expected to be full of pep all the damn time. Face plastered with a fake smile.

Tonight, she just wanted to turn off her brain for a few hours in the mindless bustle of the mall, and finding herself on the bench across from Scoops Ahoy, watching Robin Buckley endlessly needle Steve Harrington has been unexpectedly fun. People watching is always entertaining, but watching people you know, or at least, kind of know, is even better.

For the last hour, she's been mulling over the idea that maybe she could get Steve Harrington to take her out, just to make Jason jealous. Steve's reputation isn't what it once was, no longer King Steve, no longer even in high school, but he's still nice enough to look at. Even if he seems bound and determined to make an ass out of himself with every girl that crosses his path in the ice cream shop. He looks desperate now, and that's a marked change. His status as top dog waned in the last year, and she knows that Jason thought, briefly, that he'd maybe be able to grab the reins, the crown, but instead there was Billy Hargrove, ready to fight, and Jason backed down, easily.

If Jason wasn't gonna fight Steve for it, he certainly wasn't gonna try his luck against Billy.

Honestly, she'd always found it interesting that Steve never seemed to care all that much that his reign was over. There was no death gasp, no struggle to stay in charge. He walked away, and looked relieved to be out, honestly.

She feels that. Might want it for herself.

Maybe Steve Harrington could teach her how he did it, give her a peek behind the curtain of what happens after.

And if that makes Jason jealous, it'll be a bonus. Jason would probably still be threatened by the idea of the Harrington name. It still carries weight, even if Steve has fallen from the popular pedestal.

The ice cream shop is empty now, nearing closing time, and if she's gonna do it, she's gotta do it now.

She starts to stand up, to test the waters to see if he even acts interested at all, when there's suddenly a commotion and falling and flailing and a jangle of metal as the guy she just fucking tripped crashes to the ground. Hard.

He groans, and she immediately reaches for his arm, "I am so sorry! I didn't see you!"

He rolls over onto his back, and her eyes widen. Eddie Munson. Shit. Damnit. As if there could be a scarier guy for her to trip like a klutz, because he's gonna be in her class next year. She definitely wasn't looking to make an enemy out of him.

You don't want Eddie Munson's mouth pointed in your direction, unless you like to be screamed at from atop a lunch table, and Chrissy most definitely does not.

"Oh my god, are you oka-?" she starts to ask, but then Robin and Steve are both hovering over him, too.

"Man, that was a hit," Steve says, reaching down to grasp Eddie's hand, yanking him roughly to his feet, "Cunningham got you good. I wish I could see the security footage, because I bet it's a doozy."

"Thanks, Harrington," Eddie says dryly, back on his feet and brushing himself off.

"I am really sorry," Chrissy stresses, and Eddie looks at her, and gives her a little smile.

"It's okay, I wasn't paying attention," Eddie says, his cheeks a little flushed, like he's embarrassed. She wasn't sure that was possible. Not from the same guy that stands on lunch tables, or the bleachers, or shimmies up onto the roof over the exterior walkway between school buildings, pacing, screaming down at everyone at the top of his lungs, at least once a week.

She's pretty sure he spends more time in detention, ISS or OSS than anyone else in the whole student body.

And he's gonna do it all again next year, with her class.

"Obviously you weren't paying attention," Robin snarks, and Chrissy laughs, relieved when Eddie does, too. Maybe he's not as mean and scary as she thought he was.

"Can I buy you some ice cream? To make up for it?" Chrissy offers, tucking her hair behind her ear, like he might tell her to fuck off.

And Eddie does look suspicious at her offer, even if it's totally sincere. She wants to apologize, and Steve and Robin are right here, ready to serve said ice cream, so it seems like the most logical solution for an apology.

"Gotta eat it quick," Steve says, "we close in five."

"And we got places to be," Robin adds.

"Together?" Eddie asks, looking between them, and Chrissy kind of does the same.

"Maybe," Robin says, "what's it to you?"

"Nothing, nothing at all, Buckley," Eddie answers, "I just didn't think Harrington was your type."

"And you know what my type is?" Robin asks, arching her eyebrow, a challenge.

"Pretty sure I do," he answers, scurrying along behind her, "and it's not Harrington."

"Hey!" Steve snaps, like this is the most offensive thing he's ever heard, "I'm a catch."

"Sure you are, Popeye," Robin says, and Chrissy smiles as she watches the three of them banter and volley back and forth, all the way back to the counter.

Steve grabs the ice cream scoop, twirls it in his hand, and looks right at Eddie, "Alright. What'll it be?"

Eddie is looking down into the glass case, trying to make a decision, so Chrissy buys him some extra time, saying, "I'll take a scoop of peanut butter chocolate swirl."

"Sounds good," Eddie chimes in, "make it two."

Maybe he can't read? Is that why he keeps flunking high school? Oh my god, no way.

Steve scoops them up both cones, and hands them over, "There. Go forth. Set sail on your ocean of flavor. Goodnight."

She tries to hand Steve some money, and he just waves her off, closing up the ice cream freezers behind the counter.

"Well, Harrington, you've got me curious. Where are you two off to in such a rush?" Eddie asks, licking his cone, not budging from in front of the counter, and Chrissy notices that Steve's watching Eddie eat the ice cream intently, before his eyes slide back upwards.

Steve rolls his eyes, "If you must know, we're going to see Cocoon, and it starts in," and Steve looks at his watch, "nine and half minutes. So…" he trails off, making a shooing motion with both of his hands. Dismissing them. Chrissy can take the hint.

Eddie can't, apparently.

"The one about the old people? Maybe you should have given me the black walnut," Eddie says, pointing to the tag in front of him, "that seems more appropriate."

So, he can read, definitely, and she feels stupid for thinking he couldn't. She's seen him read, a lot, off in corners of the school, like a bear they'd all rather let lie than poke with a stick.

Steve just shakes his head, so Eddie keeps talking, "Isn't that the movie made by Opie? And you're gonna pay to see it?" Eddie asks, looking curious, tongue darting out to lick another stripe off the cone.

"Well, not exactly," Robin says, and Steve cuts her a look that Chrissy tries to decipher. "Can you keep a secret?"

"Yes," Chrissy says.

"No," Eddie says at the same time.

And they all laugh, which makes Eddie smile and it's a nice smile. Definitely not so scary, after all. He seems so normal, and it delights her for some reason. Like she's gotten to see behind the mask.

"Do you have anywhere to be?" Steve asks, looking between the both of them, and they both just shake their heads no. Because she doesn't, and now she's curious.

"Great," Steve says, as he pulls down the gate at the front of the store, locking everything up and turning off the lights, before he herds them towards the employees only break room, hidden behind the swinging door.

"Wait here," Steve says, and then both him and Robin disappear, leaving her alone with Eddie Munson, eating ice cream, in the back of Scoops Ahoy. It's definitely an odd place to find herself, she must admit.

"Well, that was weird," Eddie says, "Harrington and Buckley. That's the unlikeliest duo I've ever seen."

"Is that so?" Chrissy asks, motioning between the two of them, and Eddie laughs, really laughs.

"Okay. You just had to one up me," he says, smiling at her. "And after trying to kill me. I see how you are."

"I'm really sorry I tripped you, I didn't mean to," she says, taking a bite of her cone.

"I know. It's fine. I'm like a cat, nine lives and all that. Just didn't get the landing on my feet part," Eddie answers, and Steve comes banging through the doors, in his regular clothes. Robin follows, out of her sailor suit as well.

And Chrissy notices that she's funky. Her style, anyway, with her hair piled messily up on her head. It makes Chrissy feel a little uncool in her dress, which is crazy. Of the two of them, Chrissy knows she's definitely the one considered popular. But Robin Buckley? She looks cool in a way Chrissy knows she'll never be. In comparison, Chrissy feels like a child dressed for church, not a teen hanging out in the mall. Pretty, maybe, but not cool.

But Robin with her smudged eyeliner, rolled jeans and shoes she's written all over, is pretty and cool.

Chrissy can absolutely see why Steve Harrington would be interested in spending time with her, outside of work, looking like this.

"Okay, you're done with those," Steve says, taking the cones from both of their hands, dropping them in the trash can, and they don't even have the time to argue, it's too abrupt and weird.

But Steve wheels his arm around, motioning for them to hurry up, and they both get up and follow, like this is a normal thing to do.

"We found this right after we started working here," Robin says, as Steve leads them up to a door off of the blank, white hallway.

"Follow me in with confidence, like you belong," Steve insists, and then he's gone, through the door, and they all follow.

And it leads into the movie theater hallway. They're right inside, having bypassed the ticket booth. Holy shit. She's never done anything like this in her whole life, and it's a little bit thrilling. Sneaking around. She giggles, and Steve leads them to the right theater and they find an empty row.

"I didn't know you had it in you, Harrington," Eddie says, leaning over to talk to him over both her and Robin, like this is the weirdest double date in the world.

Honestly, she thinks if you'd thrown the name of every kid at Hawkins High in a hat, and drew names, she's not sure you could have come up with a weirder grouping than the four of them.

But here they are, and it's been kinda fun, honestly.

"There's lots of things you don't know about me, Munson," Steve retorts, and Robin laughs, "We need popcorn. I'll be right back."

And then he's gone, leaving the three of them that will all be seniors next year. She's nervous. Steve, she knows, just by running in the same circles. They both play sports, she's cheered for him since she was a freshman. He doesn't make her uncomfortable at all.

But these two? She's probably never said a word to either of them before tonight, and she's gone to school with Robin Buckley forever.

"So, class of '86," Chrissy says, and then feels embarrassed because that's kind of a dumb thing to say.

"Yep," Robin answers.

"I don't know, I haven't decided if I'll stop with '86 or keep going. '87? '88? They might be better classes than yours. No reason to rush into this graduation year decision," Eddie says, and they both laugh.

"Most people don't shop around for those, you know?" Robin says. "You get what you get."

"And you don't throw a fit," Chrissy adds, parroting the saying she's heard her entire childhood.

There's no time for Eddie to banter back, because the lights dim, as the previews pop onto the screen, and the projectionist tracks it until it is centered.

Steve comes back just in time, handing her and Robin both containers of popcorn. She says thanks, Robin doesn't. Chrissy tilts hers towards Eddie, and he takes a handful, and they all settle in for a movie she hadn't planned to see, with people she never could have imagined spending the evening with.

But it's fun. Eddie has running commentary, Steve keeps asking Robin stupid questions, getting her all riled up, and when the credits roll, Chrissy's a little sad it's over.

Walking out of the mall, they all sort of linger for a second before going their separate ways. Robin grabs her bike from the rack, as Steve takes off across the parking lot towards his familiar car. Eddie follows her, and she realizes she isn't scared.

When they get to her car, he just holds her car door open for her, bowing dramatically before running off, hip-checking Steve on his way by, sending Steve off-balance. Chrissy smiles as Steve hollers something she couldn't hear after Eddie, and she keeps grinning as she tracks Eddie all the way to a van parked off by itself.

In the driver's seat of her own car, she follows both of the boys out of the lot. Steve turns on his blinker, and eases out, clearly planning to follow slowly behind Robin on her bike, and Chrissy thinks that's sweet, before Eddie barrels out from behind Steve, music blaring as he's zooming around Steve and Robin, leaving them with a friendly honk and a cloud of smoke.

She can see that they both wave at him, and she smiles to herself. Nobody would ever believe her if she told them who she spent her evening with, and especially not if she told them how much fun it had been.

She turns in the opposite direction, towards home, and takes one last look in the rearview mirror, wanting proof that this wonderfully weird night actually happened.

It did, it really did, and Chrissy smiles as they get smaller and smaller behind her, before disappearing totally into the darkness.

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @astrangersummer and follow along with the fun! 🍨

#a stranger summer #week six #prompt: ice cream #stranger things #chrissy cunningham #eddie munson #robin buckley #steve harrington #stranger things s3 #scoops ahoy #platonic stobin #thisapplepielife: short fic #thisapplepielife: a stranger summer #steve and robin #robin and chrissy #eddie and chrissy #steve and eddie #steve and chrissy

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