#the last one was the best hair tuck i ever drawn
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theeio · 2 months ago
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Platonic Zouxie art I forgot to post
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grandline-fics · 10 months ago
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Could I request something with Law please? I'm not sure if you do NSFW stuff or not, but if you do could it maybe be something about after a one night stand, reader finds out her eggo is preggo and how law reacts?
If you don't do NSFW that's totally fine too! Maybe something about Law having a crush on femme reader who joins the crew, but they don't know she's a devil fruit user until a battle and they see her in action? She has a logia type that allows her to control water and become water.
DESCRIPTION: You find out you’re pregnant after a one-night stand
WARNINGS:  Mentions of pregnancy, suggestive descriptions but nothing explicit, some angst
CHARACTERS: Law
WORDS: 1,121
A/N: Sorry you had to wait so long for this and I hope you like what I managed to come up with for the pregnancy prompt
*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*
MASTERLIST
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Law knew a distraction would jeopardise the plan he’d formed. He knew letting himself have his attention be diverted from the goal at hand was stupid. He was the personification of logic and yet he still found himself looking across the room at the sound of your laughter. He knows better, he should know better. Now was not the time to be drawn in like some lovesick child. Still he can’t help himself. He can’t help how he feels about you, or how he keeps thinking about  the way his hands twitch, wanting to feel you again. He’d told himself one lapse of judgement was enough, as amazing as it had been. As he lifted his drink to his mouth, he couldn’t help but compare the taste to the memory of you. You were far more intoxicating, dizzying, and delicious than any alcohol that passed his lips. 
When you tucked your hair behind your ear as you talked with one of the crew, the action exposing your neck that he knew was sensitive. His dark eyes flickered to your fingers, lightly cradling your drink and something new came to his mind. Throughout the night he had yet to see you take a single drink from your cup. If he hadn’t been failing miserably to ignore you he wouldn’t have noticed it at all. Suddenly his mind switched to that of the focused doctor and watched you for a reason that wasn’t because of his feelings he was in denial about.
Any time you lifted the cup to your lips as though you were about to take a drink, you would lower it to continue the conversation you were having. It happened far too much to be a coincidence. Law knew you well enough to know nothing would interrupt you from drinking if it was what you wanted. There was only one reason why you would do this. Without thinking he rose suddenly and crossed the room, whatever Penguin was about to say to you died on his tongue at the appearance of your Captain who was looking far too intense. You looked over your shoulder and kept your expression impassive, your gaze only dropping when his hand gripped your upper arm. “We need to talk.” he told you sharply, leaving no chance for you to answer before he was all but pulling you out of the bar and leaving the rest of the crew behind to enjoy the rest of their night. 
“So what’s wrong Captain?” you asked calmly, pulling free from his grip and ignoring how his eye twitched at the title. The last time you’d called him by his name was the night you’d spent together and after agreeing it was best being left as a one time thing, you reverted back to only addressing him as your Captain in order to make things simpler. When Law didn’t immediately answer your question you turned to face him fully. “You sounded urgent in the bar. So is there an issue or isn’t there?”
“Are you pregnant?” The question was soft and yet it hit you hard, the implication of the reality you’d been trying not to think about was said aloud. It had been only a couple of weeks since you and Law slept together but you hadn’t even thought about the possibility of being pregnant until Penguin handed you your drink in the bar. Law, ever observant seemed to notice almost instantly just from your behaviour in one evening and you could curse him for that skill. Why couldn’t you have had just a little more time to come to terms with it on your own first and then tell him yourself? “I honestly don’t know.” Was the only answer you could manage out.  
He could have used his Devil Fruit then and there to find out for sure but instead the two of you walked back to the sub and he found a pregnancy test in the medical supplies for you to take. Perhaps it was to give you both more time in tense, ignorant bliss, the strange limbo of it still being only a possibility and not a certainty. You sat beside him, staring at a medical chart on the far wall, anything to avoid looking at the test, your stomach, or Law. 
“If it is positive-” his voice began slowly and you let out a small hollow scoff that interrupted him.
“Probably worked out well we’d docked on an island. Don’t have to worry about any more traveling.”
“You’d leave?” Law asked tightly. 
“You’d want me…us to stay?” You asked finally looking at him, confused about why he seemed so pained about you going. “You didn’t want a relationship because it was too much of a distraction which I understand and respect. A baby would take you from your goals even more than just being with me would. I wouldn’t stay only for you to resent my presence or the baby’s. If there is one.” You explained before rubbing your neck. This was such a mess and all your fault, you knew pursuing Law would be a bad idea. With him being your Captain and knowing he was focussed solely on his own ambition it was going to end badly but you just had to go and let your emotions get the better of you. 
Law reached forward and lifted the test into his hand, staring at the tiny little mark that felt like a huge weight in his hands, the tiny mark that signified the new life he was responsible for. The Surgeon of Death had created a life. He’d never considered it before, or rather he’d never allowed himself to think about something like this. Having a family was a cruel and dangerous daydream to indulge in after losing his own and Cora. It was painful to think about repairing some of that trauma and yet here he was now faced with that reality. Could he allow himself to have something good again? Yes there would be risks but if it was with you, wasn’t it worth it?
He glanced at you to see your eyes had locked into the result on the pregnancy test. You were completely frozen, as though frightened to make a noise or any movement out of fear of disturbing him. Suddenly you jumped when his hand settled over yours that had been resting on your lap, the action causing his fingers to graze against your stomach. Just holding your hand was enough to make him feel more grounded, more settled from the previous yearning he’d had when you were apart. Law took a breath, lifting his head to meet your stare. You could both do this. “Please stay.”
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shojizbae · 10 months ago
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Peeping Tom
Tamakixreader x mirio
Word count: 4K
Warnings: smut, voyeurism, oral (m&f receiving) jerking off, safe sex practices
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Mirio didn’t mean to. He really didn’t. UA had very recently moved into the dorms when it happened. It was a Friday night, and he just finished a shower after getting home from his work study. Apparently, the walls were a little thinner than he expected.
Sometime around 8:30, he heard it. It started slow at first, talking. A movie played, but it changed so often that he couldn’t figure out which one. He had only a pair of sweatpants as he toweled off his hair when he heard it.
“(Y/n), woah!” It was the voice of his best friend and neighbor, Tamaki. His shy, elvish friend had finally confessed to his now girlfriend three months ago. (Y/n), a kind but rambunctious girl who had been dropping not-so-subtle hints for almost two years was one of Mirio’s favorites in the class.
Since getting together with Tamaki, she had drawn him out of his shell. It seemed tonight she would drag him out a little more complicated.
“What ‘woah’?” She gently placated
Now, Mirio, of all things, was not a snoop, but he was curious. Luckily, he wasn’t a cat, so he pressed his ear to their shared wall.
“W-we were just watching a movie. I didn’t expect you to get all handsy.” He said, and even through the wall, he could hear his best friend tucking his chin into his chest in embarrassment. So, they were finally gonna have sex?
Two weeks ago, Tamaki came to Mirio and Nejire with this concern. (Y/n) had very nonchalantly asked if he was ready or could consider getting physical with her. After about twenty minutes of gently calming him down, as he seemed to begin hyperventilating, he managed to say something he wanted meanly. Although his anxiety could try your patience occasionally, you were proud of the semi he was sprouting at the mention.
After that conversation, he went to Mirio, who coincidentally was with his girlfriend. He knocked at the door open (Y/n). Want to have sex with me!” He proclaimed in the closest voice he could muster. Unfortunately, he entered a scene from a magazine in the back of the store.
Nejire was in her school skirt and bra, her hair was disheveled but tucked to the side, and she was lying/ straddling Mirio's lap. Mirio was only in some checkered boxers and had one hand on her boobs and the other on her ass below her skirt. He managed a squeak before he spun around and slammed the door shut behind him.
His friends dressed quickly and chased him down, finding him with his head shoved deep into the dorm refrigerator.
“Uhh, Tamaki?” Mirio scratched his cheek but couldn’t hide his smile and his friend's antics
“Yeah, M-mirio?”
“Whatcha doing, man?”
“Uh, just getting a tea?”
“Yeah?” Nejire confirmed, “I thought Yaobara took the last ginseng one. And you hate the matcha ones?” Hado placated
“No, I think I see a Yuzu one back here.” He reached in and pulled out a can of lemonade and cracked the can open. He toon a sip just for show although not bringing himself to make eye contact “mmm refreshing. Well gotta get back to my dorm!” He tried to breeze past the couple until one of Mirio’s giant hands pushed him back by his chest.
“Slow down there, partner! What was this you said about you and (Y/n) having sex?”
“Mirio, not so loud!” Amajiki exclaimed
“Yeah, babe, why don’t we take this back to your dorm?”
“Right,” Mirio looked at his girlfriend with smitten eyes, then at Tamaki’s cherry-red eyes. “Why not yours?” He offered. Tamaki hung his head and pathetically followed the couple to Hado’s dorm room to discuss what this meant.
That was two weeks ago.
Ever since Togata had been anxiously waiting for some kind of sign that (Y/n) had gotten Tamaki into the sac. He felt like some religious fanatic awaiting a divine character, and here it was. Giggles and sighs, and the TV in Tamaki’s bedroom turned up a considerable few clicks.
He kept his ear pressed to the wall, but his curiosity was getting too powerful for him. Accidentally or subconsciously, he slipped through the wall, so his head and left should be passing ghostly through the barrier.- Now his head was in Tamaki’s dim closet where he always left his doors cracked for a long-standing fear of monsters. From his angle, he saw a scene that was downright painting-worthy.
You were sprawled over Tamaki’s lap with both hand tangled into the hair at the base of his neck. Tamaki had one hand up the back of your cardigan which was slipping down your right shoulder. It seemed he was fumbling with your bra clasp which frustrated Mirio because they had spent a considerable amount of time teaching him all about bras.
Frustratedly, you sat up and whipped your cardigan to the side, unclipping your bra and pulling it out of the front of your camisole slowly to tease your boyfriend. With the news he could see, Tamaki looked downright disfigured. His tie hung off his bedside lamp, the top three buttons of his school shirt had been hastily undone, and a speckling of hickies already decorated his neck and chest. Mirio heard him whimper below you as he braced his hands on your thighs.
“You’re beautiful (Y/n).” Tamaki proclaimed, which shocked both who’d heard it
“You don’t need to butter me up, babe, I’m already so wet for you.” You purred as you sunk back to his lips. Tamaki did his best to keep up with you, but the overwhelming barrage of kisses and the constant figure eight of your hips against his was becoming too much for him. Mirio watched in delight as you climbed. His best friend was like a hungry cougar. You gently placed your hands in each of his collarbones, pushed him back onto the plush pillows, and placed a gentle peck on his lips before shimmying down his thighs.
You landed softly on the carpet on your knees with your hands braced on his thighs.
“Uhh (Y/n), what are you…?”
“Shhh, babe, I want this to be special for you.” You held your pointer finger up to your lips in a hushing motion. Then you dug at his belt and enjoyed the iconic sound of a metal clacking against metal.
“(Y/n), You really don’t have to.” He anxiously pleads
“But, Ama, I want to.” That made something in Mirio’s stomach do Olympic gymnastics. There was a pleading glint in your eyes as you begged him silently. He closed his mouth and eyes and gave the subtlest nod known to man, and you dove back in. You tucked some hair behind your ear and undid the button and zipper of Tamaki’s green trousers.
“Take off your shirt, babe.” You ordered, and he obeyed happily as you tugged his boxers. He wriggled around and tossed his shirt into oblivion, and you fished his dick out of his briefs. “Woah, babe, you have such a pretty cock.” You stated proudly.
Mirio had to agree. Of course, he had accidentally caught glances in the locker room, but he was seldom hard in those situations. He could tell from this distance that your statement wasn’t just flattery. It was above average in length with a plump cockhead and perfectly flushed pink. Mirio watched as you took a lick from base to tip, and Amajiki warbled beneath your touch. You took his balls in your left hand and played with them.
Amajiki was notoriously neat, so he wasn’t shocked to see his friend had done some manscaping.
“(Y/n)~” he drawled the final syllable as you slowly sucked on his tip. Mirio could see his friend's abs flexing and twisting as he struggled under your mouth. “(Y/n)!” He groaned. Suddenly, he touched your shoulder and pulled off with an almost cartoon pop.
“Why are we stopping? Is it bad?” You added anxiously
“No! No, it’s. He wiped his eyes and tried to collect his thoughts. “It’s really, uhuh, really good. I don’t think I’ll last one second if you keep going.” He wiped his sweaty brow
“Aww,” you gave a downward smile, proud of yourself for being a natural. You started climbing up him again and gave him a long, searing kiss so he could taste his own precum on your lips. You started reaching behind you for the zipper of your skirt, but Tamaki caught your wrist before you could retake the lead.
“I’ll be taking care of that.” He stated as a wave of confidence overtook him. He held under your armpits and spun the both of you around, so he landed with a giggle in the tangle of his blankets. Often, you forget how strong your boyfriend is. Partly because he rarely wore tight or revealing clothing that showed off his sexy, lean muscles. They didn’t exude the confidence typical of people as powerful as him.
As he stood, he tucked himself back into his boxers but shucked off his pants and folded them at the waist before tossing them to the side. You laughed at his continued clean behaviors, and Mirio just enjoyed it. He claimed back over your abdomen to kiss your lips and your forehead.
Sensing his tiredness, Mirio returned his whole body to his bedroom and got some water. He brought his fist toward his chest in victory and recapped some water. He’s seen plenty more than what is appropriate, right? There should be no need to keep snooping? Right?
Mirio checked the lock on his door, relieved that he remembered to lock it while changing. Although it’s not as if everyone in the class hadn’t seen some part of him during training. He took another sip from his water bottle and plunged his head back into his ‘peephole.’
What he saw was miraculous.
Amajiki was laying shooter style between your spread legs. He had his right hand stuffed deep in your cunt, and with his left hand, he was holding yours.
“L-like this (Y/n)?” He sought your guidance and received only a high-pitched sigh
“Yeah! Mhmm,” you attempted to clear your throat to gain some composure. “Yeah, just like that, Ama.” You sighed
“Ok, but how’s the pace, or should I do anything else.”
“Y-you c-could play withhh my clit?” You offered. Mirio was gobsmacked. How did his shy, reserved best friend get his girlfriend to stutter like him?
“O-ok.” he unlocked his fingers from yours and started making gentle circles. He tried to find it, but notoriously, it seemed to be the eighth wonder.
“Um, a little higher, baby,” you took your once-connected hands and guided his left hand up to your clit and hiccuped. You found it, and Tamaki's gentle hands lay you out.
“Like this?” He smiled up at your pinked face
“Yeah, just like that, baby.”
“So this is good?”
“Yeah, hun, this is euuh,. This is really good,” you accidentally interrupted yourself. Jeez, Tamaki, Mirio thought you really needed more confidence.
“You know,” Tamaki jumped at the sound of your voice, “nothing's wrong, babe, just if you wanted, you could use your mouth.”
“D-do you want it?”
“Only if yoUU!” Before you could confirm, he placed his mouth right where his left hand was. The squee you let out emboldened both boys witnessing you. Until now, Mirio had been balancing on his knees and his right hand while his left hand pushed against the wall. Now, his left hand slid down to his navel and slipped under his champion sweatpants. There was a considerable pile of pre that had pooled in his pants, and he thanked his twenty-minute earlier self who had chosen to forgo underwear.
Quickly he was able to grab onto his cock as his gaze was fixed on you, the porno in front of him. Amajikis left hand had vacated your clit as his mouth took the promotion. Instead, he was grasping desperately at one of your boobs, and his right did its best to assault your g-spot.
Evidently, his right hand was doing a good job, and you moaned and writhed beneath your boyfriend's ministrations.
“Fuck baby, keep going,” you looked your leg over his shoulder and locked him closer to your pussy. Mirio started to circle his cockhead with his thumb as he heard your moans pitch up.
You sunk your right hand into his hair, which made Tamaki groan a little. Your left hand flew out to grip a nearby pile of comforter.
“Tama, uhh, I’m so close! Please, whatever you do, don’t stop or change anything.” And he obeyed happily, maybe adding to the intensity only emblazoned by your tenacity. Your other leg wrapped around the side of his ribs as you reached climax. All coherency left him as you came a jumble of Tamaki's names and various moans and squeals.
Mirio gripped his dick a little harder, and you squirmed and relished the first orgasm someone had provided you. Tamaki sat on his knees and wiped his mouth as he admired how wrecked you looked. Your hair was spread in a million directions, and your tank top was ridden up so he could see your belly as it rose and fell. Your skirt was flipped up, and your panties hung off one of your knees. Even your socks seemed to be slipping if your body as your boyfriend devoured the sight of you.
He had watched many a dirty movie, but nothing compared to how sexy you looked right now. Sweating, shaking, and your face was completely red.
Tamaki was doing much better. He, too, was out of breath and slightly damp, but most noticeable was his cock dancing and straining against his navy blue briefs.
“Aww baby, that looks like it hurts,” you reached for his waistband and tugged him so you were both sitting on the bed, “why don’t we take care of you.” You sat his back against the wall and almost tore his boxers off him. You stood up and pulled your camisole over your head, and brandished it to the side. You gave him a smile as his eyes locked onto your breasts. You saw him swallow and, for the show, fanned himself like a lady at church with his hand.
Boldly, you pulled the zipper of your skirt down and let the green pleats free fall, and you stepped out of it. Despite being buried in your pussy just a minute before, the sight of you completely naked and on display for him was golden. His cock stood at attention, painfully awaiting you.
You climbed back onto your boyfriend's and kissed him sweetly to reassure him. His confidence broke briefly as he awaited your insight.
“Here, hold onto my hips.” You place your hand over his and guide them to the fat of your hips. You rose slowly on your knees and used your right hand to guide his cock to your awaiting pussy. You paused right as you made contact.
“Fuck! I forgot condoms!” You put your forehead on his collarbones in defeat.
“That’s okay, baby,” he secured a hand on the small of your back and leaned the two of you forward. He slowly opened the drawer and pulled out a box of condoms, pulling out the roll and ripping one off.
“How did you?”
“After that night, I went out and bought some. I-I had to call Mirio for help.” He admitted, ashamed.
“Aww, baby.” Mirio stopped his hand as he smiled at the memory. It was nine at night when he got the call. It took ten minutes to calm down a very overwhelmed Tamaki and explain that most of the scented or rubbed condoms were not a good choice and that he should go with latex unless he knew you were allergic to latex. You weren’t, so he got some pretty generic-looking lubricated condoms with a little doctor-recommended check. He didn’t make eye contact with the cashier; he only handed her enough cash to pay and grabbed the box before she could give him change.
You both settled back into position and he ripped the foil open with his teeth. Your knees buckled a little at the sight and you helped guide the condom down his dick. As you slid him down your folds you paused right at your pussy and looked in his eyes.
“Mhmmm,” he managed to grit out, and you slowly sunk his head in. Both of you seemed to moan and were keen on the contact. Your hands flew up to grip his shoulders, and he sunk into the small of your waist. Mirio gripped his cock reignited by the double loss of virginity. Slowly you eased down his cock and experimentally brought yourself up and down once. You shuddered in his lap.
Tamaki slid his hands down your waist to your hips, and you picked up the pace, bouncing up and down his lap with more confidence. With his help, you rode him with a passionate curiosity.
Mirio picked up the pace as you two seemed to find a groove. The purple-ette enjoying the sight of you taking him for his pleasure and the satisfying squelch of your pussy around him. Every lift and drop of your hips forces his eyes to shut a little, but every time, he forces them back open to allow himself to soak you in.
You’re not doing much better. Already sensitive from cumming minutes earlier, the excitement of finally getting to fuck Tamaki swirled into a greater pleasure than you could imagine. Unfortunately, it was interrupted by the ghost of cowgirls.
“Ow ow ow!” You settled your hips
“What? What is it, baby?” He clamped his hand on the side of your face.
“Foot cramp.” You shook it and winced
“D-do you wanna switch?”
“Mhmm,” you nodded, and he kept his hold on the side of your face but gave you a gentle peck. Then he slid his hands under your legs and picked you, only to slam you down on the mattress. You bounced and laughed as you held his face for another kiss. You tucked some stray hair out of his face as he guided himself back into your sweet, warm pussy.
You made eye contact as a slight gasp slipped from your mouth. Tamaki leaned over you and placed your arms around his neck. He placed both hands by your ears and started up a slow and gentle pace. Before he realized your eyes were going the same rolling back/ force open pattern.
From this position Amajiki was hitting all the best angles. Mirio thought he was spoiled for getting the pleasure of witnessing this. Every grunt and every sigh even the squeak of the mattress beneath Tamaki’s knees was only fuel for his fist. He brought his hand up to his mouth so he could collect a weight bead of spit which he spread over his throbbing cock. He could feel his balls keening with the need to release but he was trying to time it with the movie he was witnessing.
On your side of the wall was bliss. You kept your arms around his neck but still wove your fingers through the thick hair at his nape. When you gave a particularly strong tug Tamaki crooned into you touch. He moaned a little harder as you tugged on him.
“D’yo like that, Ama?”
“Y-yes,” he managed to plead.
“Y’want me to do it again?”
“Yes-fuck, please!” You were shocked to hear your typically formal boyfriend swear at you. It was hot, so you pulled harder in his gorgeous silky hair. You only pulled more erotic sounds out of his lips, which were coated in a thin layer of saliva from chewing on them.
“Fuck again! I-I’m gonna cum!”
“T-Tama!” You nearly started laughing in surprise at his foul mouth. But the obsessive rhythm of his hips was bringing you closer to the edge again. “Just keep going. I’m ughh,” you groaned against your will as he teased your G-spot.
“Deeper Tama!” You begged. He grabbed each of your ankles at your request and brought them up by his ears. He leaned down on you and landed a searing kiss on your forehead and then brought his pace a little faster, lingering at the depression of his thrust.
“Ahh, right there! Please don’t stop!” But he was sputtering out from exhaustion and being on the precipice of an orgasm
“I can’t- I’m not gonna!” He sounded absolutely pathetic
“It’s fine, baby. Just keep going.”
“Do you want me to pull out?”
“Why would you wear a condom? Inside please” At that, any scrap of reserve fell away as he pounded into you, desperate to cum.
“(Y/n)! Uh, I’m gonna!” He parked his hips deep in your pussy as he came with a whimper. Your eyes rolled so far back that he was nervous; they might not return. As he came to, he felt like he was strangled by your pussy, clamping down and spasming around his cock. You raked your hands down Amajiki's back, desperate to cling onto something for fear you might float away.
If he were to look back on it, Mirio would say that the noises you made as you came sent him hurtling over the edge. In a split-second decision, he permeated his other hand through the wall to bite so he could damper his sounds. He shuddered, and his ear rang after he came. A nasty white matter on the wall was evidence of his Tom peeping.
He pulled himself back through to his room to assess the damage. He would need to change his sweatpants because of a big precum stain on the grey fabric. He laughed at himself and how live-action porn got him so riled up.
“Oh jeez,” he put his clean hand on his forehead. Directly after he had hidden the evidence, a pounding at his door nearly scared him out of his skin.
“Miri! Togata! Why is your door locked?” He zipped over to his door, unlocked it, and gave his girlfriend a kiss on the forehead as she sunk into his chest.
“Long day, baby?” He similarly caged her in
“So long,” she whined
“You want to hear something that will cheer you up?” He pulled back so he could look at her adorable little face
“Always,”
“They finally did it.” He admitted with a downward smile
“YOU SHUT YOUR DAMN MOUTH!” She leaped back, accidentally activating her quirk
“Yeah, I heard it all.” He smirked proudly. “You wanna go over and bust them?”
“Yeah!” She cheered sharing similar smirks and penchants for mischief. Mirio threw on a t-shirt and they crept next door. Stupidly the couple had forgone locking the door. The two bust through the door to reveal what could have been a sweet wholesome moment.
(Y/n) had her head laid on Tamaki’s chest and Tamaki had an arm over her shoulder and was stroking up and down with his finger tips. But as the couple blew threw Tamaki’s door sending the couple flying up and out of their sheets.
(Y/n) grabbed the nearest blanket and held it to her chest to conserve some of her modesty.
“What are you doing get out!” You screeched in embarrassment while poor Tamaki cowered, mortified.
“Ok ok,” Mirio backed out in surrender “did you kids have fun?”
“Out!’l you hollered. The incident did not stop you by any means from continuing your fun. You just remembered to lock the doors. But no padlock could keep out your neighbor of a peeping tom.
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cinnoasch · 4 months ago
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Charmed [2] (March x Reader)
A/N: Here is part 2! Once again extremely fun to write. I have received requests and am working on them, so they will be out soon! Story under the cut!
Charmed [1] Here
Word Count: 2852
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March runs a hand through his hair as he tosses another balled up piece of paper behind him. He had already finished his orders for today and now he was hunched over his desk, drawing. Papers are scattered across the desk, many of them have scribbles across them or large X’s drawn on them. He knew what you had said, that you didn’t care if his drawing was good or not. But to him, it mattered. Everything he did, he put his best foot forward. It had to be perfect.
“Woah, it’s like a tornado came through here.” 
March glances behind him. “Oh, hey Ryis.”
“Hey.” Ryis replies, walking into the shop. He approaches the back of the shop, peeking over March’s shoulder. “Oh…those aren’t blueprints.”
March jolts and in a frenzy pushes all the papers and pencils off his desk. He looks up at Ryis, face burning in embarrassment. “...there was no point in me doing that, huh? You saw?”
Ryis grins, chuckling. “Yeah, I saw. So, I’m guessing things went well last week?”
“...I mean I guess.” March mumbles. “The only thing that’s not going well is this.” He gestures at the state of the room. “I can’t believe I’m saying this… but I’d rather work on nails than this.”
“It’s troubling you that much?” Ryis asks. He picks up a few papers off of the ground, looking at each of them. “These aren’t bad, you’re definitely progressing.”
“Yeah… but it’s not perfect.”
“It doesn’t need to be.” Ryis replies. He sets the small stack down on the table, and the portrait you gave March catches his attention. “Hm, don’t think I’ve ever seen you smile like that.”
“Trust me, you’re not the only one.” March says as he leans back in his chair. He sighs slightly, his gaze wanders over to the portrait. “...I don’t want to give them something half-assed. Not after receiving something like that.”
“I get that. You want to give them something that invokes the same feeling you had, right? In my opinion, I don’t think it has to be a drawing. As long as it’s from the heart, I think that makes all the difference.”
“From the heart?” 
Ryis nods, “Mhm. Just think about it. You’ll figure it out.” He gives a wave as he walks out of the shop. “See ya.”
“What the hell…?” March shakes his head. He stands up, stretching slightly. From the heart…? What did that even mean?
When you drew that portrait, was that from the heart? Heat slowly rises on his cheeks and March pushes that thought away. It was embarrassing to think about. Even more so, it was embarrassing to think about how happy he was whenever he looked at it.
March already knew why that was. Even Ryis had mentioned it last week. Was it because of these feelings that he wanted to give you something that expressed that? Something that was perfect? 
Just then the shop door opens and Valen walks in, greeting him. “Good morning March. My, it looks like you’ve been busy. Practicing drawing, I see.”
His face turns red as he quickly starts gathering the papers and pencils off the ground and tucks them away in the desk drawer. He clears his throat, leaning against the desk. “Did you need something, Valen?”
“Yes, actually. I’m in need of some new medical tools. My old ones have dulled considerably.”
“Okay, I’ll get on it.”
“Thank you, March.” Then Valen adds, “You look…distracted. Is there something on your mind?”
March blinks a couple of times, then he sighs. “...sort of.”
“Would you like to talk about it?”
“Don’t you want me to get started on your tools?”
Valen smiles. “Those can wait. Go on, tell me what’s on your mind. Maybe I can help.” She leans against the wall, waiting for March to respond.
“...If you wanted to give someone a gift…” March starts slowly. “What would you give them?”
“Hmm, that depends on the person I’m giving the gift to. Though I assume you’re giving something to a certain someone… say Y/N, for instance?”
“You…better not say anything to them.”
Valen chuckles, “I won’t, you don’t have to worry about that. Let’s see here…” She hums in thought. “Ah, well why don’t we rely on your strong suit then? Y/N did mention in passing that they recently lost a bracelet of theirs while in the mines. Maybe you could do something with that?”
“A bracelet?” He mumbles. He did recall a copper band that dangled off of your wrist, though you haven’t been wearing it as of late if he remembered correctly. “I could make them a new one… maybe silver?”
“I think that would be a perfect gift.”
March nods in agreement, “Thanks, Valen.” He takes a seat at his desk, grabbing a pencil and a blank sheet of paper from the drawer. He glances back at her. “I’ll have your tools done soon, promise.”
She lightly smiles. “I’m not in a rush to get them, so no worries. Good luck, March.” With that, Valen leaves the shop.
March starts to sketch out a few designs. It was no different than working on blueprints. He could do this. This could be just the thing that would tell you exactly what he wanted you to know. 
--------------------------------
Friday night rolls around and March walks into the inn, fiddling with the finished silver bracelet in his apron pocket. Now that the day was finally here, he was slightly nervous. Did he go overboard with this? The past few days he had been working on the bracelet, even starting from scratch at some points because he wasn’t satisfied with it. Yesterday he had finally finished it though, the bracelet adorned with a few gems he bought from Balor, as well as some small designs March added himself. It was just some flowers and leaves, though he had to admit adding them was harder than he thought, especially on such a small piece of metal.
Would you like it? Hell, would you even accept it? 
“March!”
The sound of Olric’s voice snaps him out of his thoughts. “Come on over, we’re waiting for you, bro!”
March makes his way towards the back of the inn, seeing that he was the last one to arrive. You’re standing in front of the table, your assortment of tools on the ground beside you. Elise, Hayden, Landen and Valen chat amongst themselves, greeting March when he reaches the table. He takes a seat next to Olric and Elise claps her hands together.
“Alright, now that we’re all here, we can get started! Now, as we all know, Y/N has offered to be our model for tonight. I see you have all your tools with you.”
You nod with a smile. “I figured you guys might ask me to do different poses so I thought I might as well bring some props along.”
“Oh, can you pose with the pickaxe first?” Olric asks. “Like you’re in the mines!”
“Then the ax next.” Landen adds with a grin. 
As everyone continues to give out suggestions, March rests his arm on the table, lost in his thoughts once again. He hated feeling nervous. It wasn’t a feeling he was used to, hell he rarely ever felt nervous until you moved into town. But at the same time, March felt excited. He never gave someone a gift that was this special, let alone someone he liked. Yes, liked. He was certain of this now. He liked you. 
“March?” 
He blinks, seeing you wave a hand in front of him. “What?”
“Did you have a suggestion?”
“Uh, no…” He replies, glancing away from you. “Let’s just…get started.”
With that, the group gets to drawing, small conversations popping up here and there. Mainly about your adventures, how you were liking life on the farm, the drawings you brought to show. 
“Oh, Y/N. May I ask you a question?” Valen speaks up.
“Yeah, sure!” You smile, leaning on your pickaxe.
“This drawing here.” She says, pointing at one of the papers on the table. “This is the bracelet you mentioned before, right? The one you lost in the mines earlier this week.”
You take a few steps forward, nodding. “Mhm, that's the one! Actually that was given to me before I set off on my first adventure, a present from someone in my hometown.”
“Oh, was it your lover by any chance?” Elise asks.
March lifts his head slightly at that question as you laugh, waving your hands in front of your face. “No, nothing like that. Just a childhood friend of mine.”
“Childhood friends! That reminds me of one of my romance novels. Do you still keep in touch with them?”
“Here and there. We send each other letters every now and then.”
“Do you ever think about going home?” Landen asks. “You must miss it.”
“I do…” You say. “But, I definitely think Mistria’s a place I can call home now.” Your gaze wanders over to March as you continue, your eyes meeting. “The charm of the town, you all…I guess I just fell in love.”
Valen chuckles, “I’m glad to hear that. I’m sure everyone agrees that you’ve become an important part of Mistria now.” She then glances at you and March, posing another question. “That reminds me. Y/N, I had an… acquaintance, we’ll say, ask me what I would give someone if I were to give them a gift. I told them it depended on the person, what do you think?”
You turn your attention to her, thinking for a few seconds. “Well, I do agree that it depends on the person. The gift has to fit their personality or things that they like. But, I do think as long as the gift is meaningful, it still holds value.”
Valen hums in response, smiling as March also turns his gaze towards her. “So…if the gift was homemade and… let’s say from the heart. Would you accept it?”
“I would.” You laugh a bit. “Are we still talking in hypotheticals here? These questions are awfully specific.”
“Of course. I was just curious.”
March lets out a small sigh of relief. He was never telling Valen anything ever again. 
Your conversation continues as you continue posing and switching out your tools. Eventually, everyone finishes their drawings and just like last time you go around the table showing them. 
All of them had little details added here and there, whether it be crops, animals, even rocks. But each of them had their own appeal. And now came March’s drawing.
“March, your turn.” Valen says.
March slides his drawing to the middle of the table then crosses his arms as he mumbles. “I wasn’t finished with it yet… but there you go.”
You all take a look at the drawing. You could definitely tell that he improved, even if you only had a tiny glance at the drawing club’s work when they first started. You notice he drew you while you leaned on your pickaxe, a soft smile on your face. It was heartwarming, and carefully drawn.
You nod smiling. “I really like how you drew the expression here. Soft, warm. You put a lot of practice in, huh?”
March’s face heats up as you stare at him. He avoids your gaze, looking at the ground. “I just had spare time on my hands, that’s all.”
“Well, keep at it. I want to see a complete drawing one day.” You reply. Then you begin packing up your tools, turning your attention to the rest of the group. “This was fun! I’d love to join again next time.”
“You’re always welcome here, Y/N. You’ve made these past two Friday nights very enjoyable.” Valen says. “Are you heading back to the farm now?”
“Yep, early day and all. Good night everyone!”
They all say their goodbyes as you leave the inn and March hurries after you, drawing in hand.
“Y/N, wait a sec.”
You turn as you stand beside Balor’s cart, seeing March jog up to you. “Hey, March. I didn’t forget anything did I?”
“Well, one thing.” He says, handing you his drawing. “You wanted to keep it right?”
“Oh, right!” You take it, tucking it away carefully in your backpack. “You could’ve given it to me tomorrow, but thank you.”
March nods, then he hesitates with his next question. “You’re welcome… uh, can I walk back with you to the farm?”
“Oh, um, sure.” 
You turn on your heel as March follows behind you silently. Within a few minutes you arrive in front of your house.
“Thanks for walking with me, March.” You say with a small smile. “Well, good night.”
“W-wait!”
You freeze as your hand hovers over the door handle and you look at March.
“I…” He averts his gaze as he pulls out a silver bracelet from his apron pocket. “This is for you.”
You stare at the bracelet, watching as the moonlight reflects off of it. The gems on it sparkle and you can see small flowers and leaves carved on it. “Did you make this…?”
“Yeah… I heard about you losing your old one, so I just thought you might like a new one.”
“Oh, so you’re the acquaintance Valen was talking about!” You laugh. “I was wondering why you seemed so interested in the conversation.”
March scoffs slightly. “She just happened to visit the blacksmiths and mentioned it.”
“Uh-huh… you are a bad liar, March.”
“… are you going to take it or not?” He sighs.
“Can you put it on for me?” You ask. 
March freezes for a second but to your surprise he takes your wrist with one hand, and slips the bracelet on with the other. You were joking when you had asked but you didn’t think that March would actually comply.
“Mhm, perfect fit.” March mumbles quietly. He begins fiddling with the bracelet, turning it around your wrist.
“Uh…March?” You speak up. 
He doesn’t respond, though you do see a small smile appear on his face. Then suddenly, he lets go of your wrist, stuffing his hands in his pockets quickly. He clears his throat, “Sorry, I was just… making sure it wouldn’t slip off.”
“It’s okay.” You reply. You chuckle slightly as you smile. “Say, if I made you a matching pair, would you wear it? Ah, but it might get in the way when you work… what about a ring then?”
Then your eyes widen as you quickly realize what you had said.  You laugh nervously, averting your gaze. “I mean, you probably wouldn’t-”
“If it’s from you, I’ll wear it.”
You look at March, the moonlight illuminates your surroundings so you can see the blush that appears on his face.
“W-what?” He asks. “Why do you look so surprised?”
“I wasn’t expecting you to say something like that is all…but if you’ll wear it, I’ll make it.” You reply as you look at the bracelet on your wrist. You smile gently as you hold your arm up, letting the light reflect off of the silver band. “I love it, March. Thank you again. I think this is the best present I’ve gotten in a while.”
March only nods, staring at you quietly. In his mind, he could make this moment better, if he just closed the gap between you two. He could hear his heart beating, loud and fast, almost as if it would jump out of his chest. If he made that move, would you reciprocate? Would things change between you if you didn’t? He was aware of how unfriendly he was at first when you moved into town, but slowly you somehow changed that. You had undeniably charmed him.
His gaze flickers to your lips. If he couldn’t say it in words…actions would do just fine, right? Screw it. March gently takes your wrist and lowers it, his hand slides down to hold yours. Then he leans in, pressing his lips to yours. It was quick, chaste, and it was over just as quickly as it happened. 
March pulls away, the blush on his face even more apparent now. You’re still trying to process everything, not quite believing what has happened. 
“Um…I guess I’ll see you later.” He mumbles quietly, letting go of your hand.
He was slowly regretting going based off of instinct, but in his mind, it felt like the right thing to do. The perfect thing to do in a moment like that.
March begins to walk away, leaving you standing alone in front of your house. But you call out to him and he turns around, seeing you smile.
“I feel the same way.”
He returns the smile, laughing slightly. He doesn’t say anything, only giving a wave as he walks off. He knew you’d visit him tomorrow to talk. His smile only grows larger as he walks home, a slight bounce in his step. A smile that was carefully depicted in a portrait. A smile that everyone had mentioned never seeing on March. A smile of someone slowly falling in love.
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lionizingheathen · 4 months ago
Text
Relax - L.E.
Plus sized!Lily Evans x fem!reader
Strapwarming Lily Evans
Warnings: Smut, strapwarming, orgasm delay, rough smut, secret relationship, D/s, Dom Lily Evans, Sub reader, use of 'slut', biting, marking
Smut under cut
"Stop squirming, sweet girl." Lily purred, and you whimpered, tucking your face into her neck as you shuddered. You'd been like this for three hours; most countries would probably consider this to be torture.
"Feels so good." You sighed, and Lily chuckled, pulling you up by your hair to look into her eyes. They had a mischievous glint to them as she set her book aside for a moment and sat up, making your breath catch at the change of angle.
"Yeah? Does it feel good to be full?" She asked, and you nodded, feeling your face get hot at the embarrassment of how quickly you'd given her the answer she was looking for.
"Yes." You went to grind down on her, but you felt her slap your thigh before you could, giving you a warning look before she flicked to another page in her book.
Oh please... Pleasepleaseplease...
"Ah! No, not until I'm done, baby." She said, sounding far too pleased with yourself as you whimpered, squirming against her... You literally weren't sure how much longer you could keep this up.
You wanted to be good for her but god, it was hard.
"But I need it now-." Lily cut you off, kissing you deeply before she tugged hard on your hair.
God, yes.
"If you're going to be demanding I will leave you like this. Remember last week? Do you really want to go through that all over again?" She asked, and you shook your head, widening your eyes when you remembered it. All tied up, facedown on the bed with a vibrator going for hours. You'd begged and begged but she never let you cum... she made you go to bed without getting you off... You couldn't go through that again.
"No ma'am, 'm sorry." You said quickly, seeing her grin as she tucked your hair from your face, leaning up to press a soft kiss to your lips. You whimpered as the strap rubbed a different spot inside you.
Not fair.
"Good girl. I'm proud of you using those manners, you're so polite." Fuck... You nodded, reaching down to move her hair out of her eyes as she continued to read... You could take care of her this way even if you couldn't be fucked right now... That might encourage her to move faster, she liked being touched by you as much as you loved being touched by her.
"Thank you..." You mumbled, watching her read in silence for a while more, admiring her soft jaw, ruddy, pale skin, and freckles... You wanted to trace over them like you would sometimes do in the dead of night, but you didn't want to distract her, instead you focused on the folds of her flesh, how her body sat when she was at rest... There was something so beautiful about her, something that had drawn you in from the first time you'd ever seen her.
She'd had your heart forever, this was no exception.
"Done..." Lily's voice startled you from your thoughts as she tossed her book aside, gripping onto your hips. "Now onto you." She grunted, thrusting deep inside of you suddenly, making you let out an unholy moan as she began her relentless pace.
Fuck, that was quick.
You weren't complaining.
"Mmph! Shit!" You gasped, pleasure shooting through your body as you hung your head back with a gasp, taking each rough thrust as best you could... That'd come out of nowhere.
"Is this more your speed?" Lily asked, her voice having a rough sort of growl about it as she rested one hand behind her to support her as she thrust into you faster, biting down on the side of your neck hard enough that you cried out... You didn't mind though.
You liked wearing marks around from her.
"Yes! Yes, fuck this is so good..." You gasped, tangling your fingers in her hair as you held her close, feeling more bites on your skin, her nails against you... God, you loved when she was like this, there was something animalistic about it.
You liked when she'd use you.
"So noisy..." She slid her fingers into your mouth for a moment, looking at you through hooded eyes as you sucked them greedily, grinding down on her strap as you did. "Slut." She breathed, letting her fingers slide from your lips as she increased her pace impossibly.
Fuck..
"Ah! Ah! Oh my god, yes!" You cried, fighting back actual tears from the pleasure as she clasped a hand over your mouth for a moment, shaking her head.
What?
"Shhh, you're so loud, baby. Someone's gonna hear you." Lily mumbled, biting down on your earlobe as you let out a loud moan of her name... If people found out at this point, what could they really do, right?
"Don't care... want 'em to know." She chuckled against your neck, dragging her tongue up your throat before she laid back on the bed. You rested your hands on her soft stomach, squeezing the flesh in your fingers as you bit your lip.
Beautiful.
"Yeah? You want everyone to know how much you love bouncing on my strap... how well you take it every time? Want 'em to know the marks are from me?" She asked, egging you on as you nodded, grasping at your own breasts, moving your hips faster, forcing the breath out of yourself as you met each of her hard thrusts.
You wanted the world to know that you belonged to Lily Evans. You were hers, and she was yours.
"Yes! Harder, Lily. Please." You begged, even though your vision was clouded with tears... You wanted her to give you everything that she possibly could.
"Fuck, you're such a slut..." She groaned, chewing on her lip as she scratched her dull nails over your skin. yesyesyes.
"Only for you." That was something she loved to hear and you knew it, especially from the way that she grinned at you, her eyes flashing as she sat up a bit, changing the angle again.
God, you were gonna cum.
"Good girl, that's exactly right." She grunted, flipping you down so that you were on your back, thighs spread wide as she fucked into you frantically. You swallowed back a moan as you saw her smirk, her free hand coming up to push her long hair out of her face... God, you're so sexy.
You liked seeing her like this, seeing her curves, her softness... The way that she moved against you... God, it was enough to send you over the edge, especially when she brought her hand down to your clit, working it quickly as you gasped, squirming under her.
Holy shit.
"Gonna cum... I'm gonna cum! Please?" You asked, remembering halfway through your rambling to wait, even if you entire body was screaming at you to just let go. She chuckled, leaning down to bite on your shoulder as you let out a high whimper, shaking beneath her.
Can't wait much longer.
"Cum." You let out a breath of relief as you tumbled over the edge, seeing stars as she leaned over you, moving her hips faster.
"Oh my god... Oh... Fuck, Lily!" You cried, trembling through your orgasm as you dug your nails into the plush, soft skin of her back, hoping that you could leave a mark behind of your love... It was hard not loving her out loud, but it was either her or your fortune... And both of you had plans on waiting until it was safely yours before running off together.
You felt tears in your eyes as she continued to fuck into you, working you right into another orgasm, this one harder than the last, before pausing inside you, making you gasp heavily as you bit on the flesh of her arm before falling limp.
She carefully pulled out of you, mumbling soft praises before she rolled off the bed, undoing the harness before she laid back and down and drew you to her.
"You always look so pretty cumming on my strap..." She mumbled, pressing soft kisses to your skin as you shivered, curling against her, burying your face in her neck as you inhaled her sweet scent. You were still trembling, but just the mere smell of her could relax you.
Okay. Breathe.
"Do you want anything?" You asked, and she chuckled, nodding.
Hell yeah.
"Yeah. For you to rest... You can take care of me later." Oh. You hadn't expected her to say that... You were tired, sure, but that was easily ignored if Lily needed you to get her off... Hell, even if Lily just slightly wanted you to get her off, you were willing and able.
"Are you sure?" You asked, completely willing to put aside your own exhaustion for her pleasure if that was what she wanted, but she placed a soft hand on your face, kissing you deeply before she pulled back, her eyes practically shining with the love that she had for you.
"I'm sure. I'm right where I want to be right now." She insisted, stroking through your hair as she hummed softly, lulling you off into a gentle slumber.
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kaybreezy3000 · 9 days ago
Text
First ~ A Five Hargreeves/Female Reader Insert request
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Nov. 16 Anonymous asked:
Hellooooo please can you write a soft dom five smut where it's the readers first time? (Female reader if that's okay :))
(4914 word one-shot, Rated Mature for explicit sexual content)
Notes/Tags/Warnings: neither are minors, Virginity, Smut, Dominance-Control, Surrender, Acceptance.
First
~~~~~~~~~
It had finally happened. You met that special someone that made you feel complete, like without them by your side, a part of you would be missing. All it took was Five giving you one of his adorable smiles, or him saying a witty comment to get you to laugh, and your heart skipped a beat.
He had been spooning you, nuzzling his face against your neck, his long fingers delicately drawing lines up and down the underside of your arm, and you were in heaven. Then your movie ended.
Untangling his legs from yours, Five pushed his feet to the end of your couch, stretching. The arm he had draped around you slipped away as he lazily folded it behind his head with his other. “It’s late,” he pointed out, followed by a drawn-out yawn.
Clicking the TV off, you twisted your body around to face him. “So what if it’s late,” you challenged, wrapping your hand around his slacked tie, towing him closer.
Five’s soft lips hesitantly grazed yours. When he pulled back, eyes closed, you tried to follow him with your lips, blindly searching.
Charmed by your innocence but doing his best to squash his more lustful desires, Five reached out, his fingertips brushing against your cheek before he tucked a stray lock of hair behind your ear.
You opened your eyes, looking back at him in disappointment.
“I should go,” he whispered.
Thanks to Five and his warm body burrowed around yours, you’d been held in a suspended state of arousal for the last two hours. Frustration mounting, your thighs clenched around the pooling heat smearing your panties. “Five Hargreeves, you are driving me crazy!” you playfully growled at him. 
Gathering all your courage, using a move you’d learned from his play book, you leaned in, seductively sucking his lower lip into your mouth.
Five let out a moan that sounded as pained as if you’d just sucker punched him. His mouth hungrily molded to yours, the warm bulge of fabric between his legs nudging against your hip.
From the feel of things, you could tell that didn’t want to go home, but after only a moment more of indulging himself, he backed away. “I mean it. I should go,” he breathlessly insisted.
Releasing the grip you had on his necktie; you slowly walked your fingers down the front of his dress shirt. His breath hitched, his lean muscles anxiously tensing the further south you explored. Stopping just short of his waistband, he made no move to retaliate, and worse, he said nothing to guide you along like he normally did.
Suddenly, you weren’t so sure of yourself.
Dark strands of hair dangled over his penetrating gaze.
The wheels in his head were turning and you knew his worries were getting the best of him again. You also knew that despite the awful things Five had been put through to get to this point, he was still the kindest, most loving person you’d ever met. He was also the hardest on himself. 
Determined to turn his frown upside down, you cupped your hand, slowly moving your palm over his crotch. 
“Fuck.” 
The sound of his strained curse doing something magical to your insides, your hand started moving just a little faster.
“If you keep that up, you’re going to be in big trouble,” he warned.
“Good,” you countered, your confidence building with every contortion of his handsome face.
Five shook his head, letting out a long, shuddering sigh. “I feel like a perverted old monster who should be stoned in the street for allowing this.” “Five….” you droned in amused irritation. Five may have been much, much older, but he didn't look any older than you.
“No really,” he continued, “Asking you out should have been a sign I’d finally totally lost it, but thanks to your relentless flirting, I did it anyway. I’m a selfish bastard, and now here we are, you the virtuous virgin fondling my dastardly dick.”
Laughing hysterically, your over clothing hand-job became even more clumsily executed, but based on Five’s dreamy expression, he was still enjoying it.
“What am I going to do with you?” he groaned, his voice enduringly cracking to a higher pitch as he complained. “It’s wrong for me to be taking advant-”
“You are not taking advantage of me,” you fired back. “I want this. I want you to be my first everything.”
Giving you a crafty looking side smirk, Five reached down, calmly taking your hand away from him. “You keep saying that, and it’s really making me question your sanity." He perked up. "Maybe we should both move into the nut house. It worked out okay for my brother and Lila. Then again, they are morons."
You scowled and his smile deepened. 
“Five, I know you think I’m not ready, but I am. Stay with me tonight.”
He sucked in a breath, letting it out with a breathy damn it.
You giggled at him.
His eyes lowered to your chest. You were really pushing him to the limits of his decency. 
All he could think about was staying, of how wonderful it would be to share your bed and make your thighs thrash against his head as he used his lips to do way more than kiss you. Doing that or anything he hadn’t already done to defile you was probably not how he should try to win your heart, which was exactly why he was trying so damn hard to take it slow.
Fuck this was so fucking hard, he mentally fumed.
Speaking of hard…
Like you, Five’s semi erect buddy in his pants was not getting the message that it was time to call it a night and its disobedience was not at all helping him think like the grown man he was supposed to be.
Instead of continuing to look at how far he could see down the front of your shirt, his entire body flushing with heat, he cleared his throat, forcing his eyes to meet yours. Even though he was undoubtedly the one in control of this situation, feeling more vulnerable by the second, he let out a tense laugh.
You smiled and ducked your head shyly, making that same lock of hair he’d fixed fall all over again.
To prevent himself from reaching out to replace it behind your ear, he adjusted his grip. Letting your wrist go, he laced his fingers over the top of yours, clenching both your hands together. “You think you know what you are getting yourself into, sweetheart, but you don’t,” he said, sternly staring you down.
“I know you, Five, and I am not scared.” Proving it, you moved your linked hands between your legs, his widened eyes following them down.
“Shit,” Five hissed as his fingertips skimmed across the moist satin covering you.
His cock twitched with excitement. 
Full erection coming in, five, four, three, two…
The line between his brows deepened and you were sure he was going to start arguing with you again, but then his lips crashed into yours. Ripping his hand away, the next thing you knew, both his hands were under your skirt. Forcefully grabbing your butt cheeks, he rolled you on top of him, driving your hips down as he ground the swell of his restrained manhood across your wet panties.
“Oh, dear God!” you cried out as he started vigorously dry fucking you, rocking you back and forth over his cock.
Swaying like a drunken sailor, your insides coiled tighter, your heartbeat thumping hard between your legs.
Dragging you forward and back again with rapid fire movements of his flexing forearms, Five grinned. “Since you're being such a bad girl tonight, the question is, should I stir your tonsils with my dick, like last night,” he questioned. “Or...should I finger fuck you until you can’t see straight, and then send you off to bed with a spanking for being so naughty?”
Stunned stupid by all the panty wetting things coming out of his wonderfully dirty mouth, you didn’t know what to say, so naturally, like the smug asshole Five was, he flopped back, casually throwing his hands behind his head, ending your pleasure ride to Humpity-Humpville.
“Five, please don’t stop!” you yelled, bouncing around on him like a child having a tantrum.
He rolled his eyes, and with how pathetically flustered you were, you couldn’t really blame him.
You covered your face, mumbling through your fingers. “I really want to slap you right now.”
He chuckled. “I’d be into that.”
You peeked at him. 
“Take your best shot. See what happens next, I dare you,” he added, looking even more pleased with himself.
Desperate to get him going again, but not so sure slapping was the way to do it, dropping your hands, you snuck one down, your fingers moving over the hot outline of his erection where it was trapped against his thigh.
Five’s eyes narrowed menacingly as your thumb softly circled the rounded silhouette of his thickly swollen tip. He whispered your name. “___, you should have run while you still had the chance.”
Heart hammering in your chest, your feet started sliding across the couch cushions, your hand moving away from your scary ex-temporal assassin boyfriend’s danger zone.
“Where do you think you are going?” he teased, snatching your wrist.
Your lips parted, but you didn’t get out a single peep.
Your skin tingled with static. Ripped into a blur of blinding light, suddenly, you were weightless, like you were at the top of a Ferris wheel, starting your quick, stomach dropping descent. Less than a second later, jarring you back into reality, the hardwood floor in your bedroom smacked beneath your feet.
The second you opened your mouth, it was covered by Five’s warm lips. He walked you backwards until the back of your legs hit the edge of the bed. His demanding kisses moved along your cheek, then along your neck, and back up, where he nipped at your earlobe with the points of his teeth, the electrified pain of his little love bites amplifying the throbbing between your legs.
Dizzy but no longer from his jump, broken moans sang out of you as you swayed.
Nudging the side of your neck with his nose, Five let out a throaty sound of satisfaction as he worked your shirt up over your head, then unhooked your bra, letting both pieces of clothing fall at your feet. Tucking his hands under your butt, he launched you on the bed. Pouncing down next to you, he started placing a scattering of kisses across your thighs. Commanding all your senses, his hands moved up and down, tickling the backs of your thighs. He did that until he moved his teasing up under your skirt.
Moving right along, he pulled it down your legs, kicking it off your ankles with his feet. Pushing your knees to the side with his, he dropped over you. Bending his head to the side, he kissed the insides of your thighs, letting his tongue leisurely glide along, turning you into a trembling mess, his ridiculously soft hair brushing along to add to the blissful torment.
“Five, please!” you wailed as his mouth edged closer.
His breath danced over you a few agonizing seconds before he traced his tongue along the wet divide darkening panties.
“Fuck,” you gasped.
The warmth of Five’s smile spread against your folds as he hooked his fingers under the thin straps at your hips. Pulling your underwear down, he gave you a mischievous look filled with boyish delight, then he slingshot them across your bedroom.
Backing up to admire you, he said, “So perfect.” His cool eyes unabashedly drew an invisible line down your naked body, taking it all in at a leisurely pace. 
Working his tie loose, he whipped it to the floor with the growing pile of clothes.
You were already quivering in anticipation, but then his hand moved to his zipper, pulling it down. 
Freeing his cock, he gripped it in one fist.
His head cocked to the side, that wicked smirk of his never faltering as he started explaining the rules while shamelessly stroking himself. “If you want me to stop at any time, I will.” He lowered his chin slightly, his lust filled eyes never leaving yours. “If I do something you like, you need to let me know so I can keep doing it. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” you nervously breathed. Your gaze lowered to the glistening tip of his cock where he was spreading his precum around, and around. “Why do I feel like I’m in trouble?” 
“Because you are,” he frankly replied. "We already covered this."
In a flash, he was on you, dastardly dick dangling out of his black dress pants, he sadistically tickled you, his fingers mercilessly digging into your sides.
Frantically laughing, you yelped, “Five, stop!” 
Yielding, he rolled most of his weight on the elbow he had positioned at your hip. Smiling innocently, he lowered his face, his lips closing around your nipple. Sucking it in his mouth, he circled it with his tongue.
The feeling of his mouth doing that, hit you right between the legs.
Squirming, you threw your head back into your pillows, panting. If you wanted more or less, at this point, you so weren’t sure.
Being really into boobs as he obviously was, Five had felt you up many times, but like him licking your panties, this was new. The erotic sensation of him worshiping your breasts in this way was like slowly dying to the backdrop of his soft sounds of contentment.
“Shhhhiiiitttttttt!” you hissed when his teeth unexpectedly pulled on your peaked flesh, tugging at an invisible rope that you hadn't realized was tied to every nerve ending in your body.
Pawing at his back, your declarations of nonsensical profanity got louder the greedier Five sucked on your tits. 
Your hands in his hair, fucking it up, eventually you got him to release the prized tit he’d been savoring, but his mouth stayed on you, trailing kisses south as his words buzzed against your skin. "You are so fun to play with,” he teased, his mouth pulling wide in a heartbreaker of a smile as he peeked at you.
Hands moving under your ass, possessively grasping your butt cheeks, he gave them each a quick pinch that made you jolt up against him.
You couldn’t even say more than a few unintelligible syllables after that because the next thing he said was with his lower lip purposefully pressed against your clit, his words vibrating straight through to your bones.
“Been dying to eat this pussy,” he mumbled.
“Ohhh-my-gah-fffff!” 
His tongue felt like it was searing you as it slipped across your clit. Wriggling it, he started licking you up and down.
“Does-tthsss-feel-goo?” he sloppily mouthed. 
“Feels-ss-samazing.”
Encouraged by that, or just trying to keep you stupidly panting nonsense, he sucked your clit into his mouth, treating the small nub of flesh the way he’d taught you to suck his cock. 
Losing your mind, you bucked your hips, forcing him to hold you down with a hand planted firmly at your waist. Happily lapping away, his other hand moved between your legs, his fingers just barely grazing across your slicked entrance.
You tensed. 
Five looked up, the familiar look of worry in his eyes, his swollen lips shimmering as they parted in question, “Are you sure about this?”
Doing your best to calm down, you nodded, perhaps a little too eagerly.
With the go ahead, watching your reactions carefully, Five circled just the tip of one finger around your entrance.
You whimpered and he did too.
At the feeling of the tip of his finger dipping inside, your body reactively clenched around it.
“I’m hurting you,” Five breathed, stopping the second he felt you tense again. 
“No. Keep-Keep going,” you insisted, trying so hard to make your body stop shivering.
With your breathy approval, his finger pulled back out, then sank back in, only all the way this time. You moaned from the feeling of him curling his knuckle, dragging the tip of his finger along your walls.
“Still good?” he asked, knowing all too well that you’d never been penetrated like this.
Swallowing thickly, you nodded again.
Five repeated the motion, eyes glued to the finger disappearing inside you. He let out a tiny moan that matched how you felt, then lowering his body down to the bed, he ran a line with his tongue up your slit.
“More. Like that," you said, gripping the back of his head.
The narrow bridge of Five’s nose rubbed against your pubic bone, that alone feeling so unbelievable good, then he started flicking his tongue against your clit.
That got you moaning so loud the entire block probably heard it.
Assured that you were ready for it, Five started thrusting his finger, hooking it with each outward drag.
Something in you felt like it bust.
You cried out.
Uncontrollably arching your pelvis into his face, Five’s magical tongue started working up and down, pressing and circling against your clit faster and faster.
“Don’t stop,” you begged, the balls of your feet digging into the bed until he rammed his shoulders into the backs of your thighs, forcing your legs wider.
Toes curling, your feet bouncing against his upper back, you were so close to the edge. It felt different than anytime you'd been balanced on the brink before, but you knew enough to recognize it was coming. Your cunt was already dripping on his hand and the bedspread, but when Five unexpectedly added a second finger, pushing them both all the way in, white hot light burned the bundle of nerves he was sucking. 
“Oh-ffff-faaah-ck!”
Tears prickled the corner of your eyes. His fingers kept moving, shoving in and out of you, hard and fast.
Stroking himself again, the tip of Five’s cock painted a line of wet heat against your leg.
With the sinful noises he was making, all mixing with his finger squelching in and out, and the sounds coming from your own gaping mouth, something had to give.
Your vision blurred. Your thighs tightened around his head probably suffocating him. A fractured groan tore out of his chest, but his tongue kept swirling, your shaking breaths growing shallower and shallower, then ceasing all together.
Your eyes slammed shut.
Pulses of your climax shook you from the inside out. You were free falling, drifting on the edge of something otherworldly and new, your entire body rendered useless.
You legs went limp.
His hands slowed, then stopped.
“Sweetheart?” 
“Hmmm?” you deliriously hummed. You opened one eye, looking down at Five nestled between your legs. His head was propped up on the hand he had been using to jerk off, and his hair was sticking up all over the place looking so cute.
He smiled. Slipping his fingers out, he brought them to his mouth, making a show of licking them clean. 
He looked so satisfied, yet there you were, the one who’s pussy was still pulsing with post orgasmic aftershocks.
You couldn’t believe him. Five was just…
Blown away with how sexy he looked, you crooked a finger at him.
You hadn’t seen him do it, but still noticeably hard, he'd tucked himself back in his briefs. Belt undone, pants hanging open, he crawled up next to you, making no attempt to do anything more than cuddle in next to you. 
He lowered his forehead to your shoulder, as if perfectly fine with leaving things as is, like making you feel good was all that mattered even though you could feel every long inch of him warm against your leg and his balls had to be feeling very blue.
Smoothing your hand around his neck, you caught the sharp angle of his jaw, forcing him to look at you. As you wove his chocolatey brown hair between your fingers, his eyes glazed over in pleasure. “Five…” you sweetly soothed, “Why did you stop when you’re-”
He kissed you, cutting you off. He looked so happy and sad at the same time as his eyes searched yours.
“Five… I love you…”
His throat clicked when he swallowed. “You are the best thing that has ever happened to me.”
He looked down.
“I don’t know what I’d do if I ruined this,” he quietly admitted.
Confused, you looked down too.
His hand brushed your cheek, and your eyes met again. “I don’t want to hurt you in any way,” he clarified, trying to smile.
You smiled too. “You won’t.”
You reached down, grasping his dick through his tented pants.
Your eyes moved down the length of his neck and he swallowed hard again. 
“Take off your clothes,” you ordered, giggling like an idiot over his intoxicated expression.
When you let go of him, doing as he was told, like he was still a good little solider, only no longer taking order from evil assholes, Five quickly shuffled out of his pants and underwear, then started unbuttoning his shirt.
Just watching him undress was hypnotic.
With not an ounce of fat on him, Five’s torso muscles formed a drool worthy ‘V’ shape directing your eyes downward. As if the sight of that wasn’t hot enough to scorch your brain, as soon as he shrugged his shirt off, full naked, you got to watch him pump his hand up and down his shaft a few times, a little bead of pre-cum beading up on the tip before it drizzled across his tightly clenched fingers.
“Five, you are so hot. You know that right?”
He let a self-depreciating laugh. “Yeah, right.”
Coming back to you on his hands and knees, dropping one hand on the bed to support himself, dick in his other hand, Five hovered over you.
“I’m ready, Five.”  You’d already said it, but he must have needed to hear it again because he didn’t make another move until he heard it.
Lining himself up, already looking distraught over the feeling of gilding his tip across your entrance, Five's voice quivered so unbelievably sweetly as he said, "You need to promise me if it gets be too much you’ll tell me.”
With the feel of him thick and heavy, resting against your hole as he waited for your answer, you bobbed your head, promising him you would.
He sucked in a breath.
Bracing yourself as he gently slipped in just his tip, your hands curled around his biceps.
You tried to hold it in, but you whimpered, and it was enough to give him pause.
“Fuck you are tight,” Five gasped, flipping his head back, trying to get his hair out of his eyes so he could concentrate on your face. “Are you okay?” he asked, not moving at all.
“Feels really big, but you are big,” you breathed in little puffs, trying to make him smile and make your body relax, so your walls could stretch around him. He still didn’t move. “Keep going, it feels good,” you pushed.
“You’re sure?”
“I’m shhh-sure.”
Hyperfocused, Five continued, sinking himself into you with shallow thrusts, only taking more when he slipped inside you without having to force it. Letting your body accept him at its own pace, his eyes looking into yours, your souls were becoming one. Opening you, he took your virginity with all the gentleness and love you had expected of him. 
“You feel so good,” Five agitatedly growled as his thrusts became slightly faster. “You like it like this?”
“Fuck, yes.”
Thrilled to hear it, capturing your lips with his, he kissed you with an urgency that matched the increasingly jolting movements of his hips. 
When your elbows slipped, laying you flat, Five buried his face against your breasts, passionately licking and sucking on them instead.
“Such a good girl. That's right. Fuck yourself on my cock," he praised when you started rocking your hips in rhythm with his.
When he sat up, eyeing the movement of his cock slipping in and out of you, you could have died, but then, doing you one more, he grabbed your hips, pulling you down the bed towards him.
Bottoming out hard, he held you down against the bed. Grinding into you, his eyes rolled back, and his mouth gaped.
Coming to his senses, he saw you clinging to the sheets and he instantly eased back. Falling down over you again, his open mouth at your neck, he started covering you with repentant kisses mixed with breathless apologies. “I’m sorry. That was too much. So sorry…”
Running your hands reassuringly through his hair you shushed him and rocked your hips into him hard as you could, trying to replicate what he’d done.
He lifted his head.
Like a man possessed, he quickly raised your legs around his waist, repositioning you. Helping him, you locked your feet around his lower back. Hooking his arms under your knees, Five’s powerful hips started colliding into you.
“You’re mine now,” he growled before he started wildly kissing your neck.
Hot skin slapping skin, your headboard banged into the wall in a cadence that matched him how he was rapidly fucking into you.
His breathless pants spilled out of him as he worked the head of his cock back and forth, aiming for something inside you that coiled tighter and tighter the longer he focused his efforts on it.
“Come on, baby, come for me again…need to feel…need you,” he chanted, his kisses getting sloppier until you felt nothing but his bowed head against your shoulder.
You were so close already, all it took was Five lifting your hips, pulling out almost all the way before he slammed back into you, repeating the pounding motion with grunted curses punctuating each thrust.
The change in momentum set you off.
It was explosive. Throbbing with pulsing waves of euphoria drowning you, you released on his cock, with clenching spasms rocking you to the core.
“Did you?” Five frantically questioned, pulling his sweat covered forehead up. His dark gaze ran over your reddened face, his eyes softened at the sight of your trembling lips. 
Getting confirmation that he’d done it, trying to sit up, he started to pull out.
Forcing your jelly-like legs to function, you held onto him, refusing to let him get away.
“I want all of you,” you whimpered.
For a sex God, he somehow looked so unsure of himself. “I’m yours, always,” he promised.
“I want you to cum inside of me, Five. I want all of you.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yes.” 
Letting out a strangled groan that turned hiss of determination, his hips snapped into you violently, extending your orgasm as your pussy milked spurting gushes of his seed from his throbbing cock. 
The force behind Five’s hips melted away with each stuttered thrust. Filling you until he had nothing left, his eyes fluttering closed, his dark lashes fanned his smooth pale cheeks. He looked like an angel.
Entranced by how beautiful he was, your eyes glistened.
His breaths slowing, Five finally opened his eyes. That sweet smile you loved crept to his lips. Gently, he pulled out, the feeling of his cum leaking out of you and the loss of his spent cock were enough to make your body start quivering all over again, shivering from head to toe.
“Was that okay? Are you okay,” he asked, looking concerned.
“More than okay,” you happily sighed.
He quirked a brow at you. “You're not just saying that to stroke my ego?”
Shaking your head, you laughed. There was no way he didn’t know that was amazing and you were more than happy to stroke anything he wanted you to stroke.
Leaning in, kissing you slow and soft, his hand tickling down your belly. Lips pulling away from yours, he glanced down. His sleepy smile suddenly gone.
You sat up a little, looking between your legs at the bed.
A light pink tinged the white sheets. 
“Are you sore? I- I didn’t realize-” Running his hand back through his hair, Five looked so heartbreakingly distraught, but he’d done nothing wrong.
You could feel a slight ache where he’d been, but it wasn’t painful. “No pain,” you said. “I feel nothing but you, Five. I love you so much.”
The burn of tears prickled your eyes again. 
His soft green eyes glistened too. “I’ll be right back,” he said, timidly smiling.
He could have blinked himself to the bathroom, but he didn’t. Letting you check out his bare ass, disheveled and cute as ever, he sprinted across the room to the bathroom, coming back a second or two later with two towels.
Carefully cleaning you up, and then the bed, he laid the unused towel over the spot you’d been laying, then he laid back down over it, pulling you in next to him.
After covering you both with the duvet, his warm fingers started tracing up and down your spine. 
Basking in the afterglow of what you’d done together, your mind and heart were filled with nothing but him. You had no worries or fears.
You were almost too exhausted to move, your body undeniably his to hold however he wished.
Lulled by the magic of Five’s featherlight touch, you couldn’t be happier, but then suddenly you felt him shifting away.
Opening your droopy lids, he gave you one of his affectionate little smiles, and seeing it, you immediately began to slip away again. “You better not take off on me when I fall asleep,” you teased.
Rolling you over so he could make you into his little spoon, Five rested his face against your neck. His feet twisted around yours.
“I’m not going anywhere, my love.”
You smiled. 
You already knew he wasn’t.
“I loved you too, by-the-way. Not sure if I said that,” he playfully added.
Your chest moved up and down with a silent laugh. 
You already knew that too, and he knew very well why he hadn’t let himself say it until now.
He was scared to letting anyone see who he really was. But for you, Five finally let go.
He was ready. Ready for a life filled with love that was not just one-sided.
With you, for the first time, everything about this was real.
He kissed the shell of your ear, whispering your name. “___, I love you.”
Warm and safe in his embrace, penetrated by his love, it felt like anything was possible.
Thinking of your future together, you squeezed his hand against your heart.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
There it is. Stir that into your eggnog. 😂
I wish you all peace and love, whatever that means to you.
And thanks for asking for this one anon. After writing this, now I'm even more ruined by this amazing fictional man.
❤️ Breezy
Link to easily view all my Five related Tumblr story and art posts
Link to my Master List
Lint to visit me direct on A03
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writerracha · 2 years ago
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⋆.ೃ࿔*:・ on the run — lee know x female reader
↻ 4.9k :: best friends to lovers :: cw. auditory voyeurism. dirty talk. fingering. oral sex (f and m receiving). soft deepthroat and throat fucking. use of "angel" nickname. unprotected sex. claiming. marking. creampie.
you have been accused of a crime you didn't commit. you have to run away, and your best friend minho comes with you. you're on the road, away from all you've ever known. but you are not alone. minho is here, and there are things you need to tell each other. noisy motel room neighbors might help you do just that.
↻ 18+ mdni :: not proof read, pls be kind :: masterlist
•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•
You’ve been running for so long. 
Out of breath, out of hope. You wonder if, one day, all of this will stop. Falsely accused, framed by someone you thought loved you. You were sure you were done for, that you would have to spend the better part of your life in jail for a crime you didn’t commit - but then Minho had taken your hand and taken you away. 
He hadn’t hesitated. He just told you to get in the car, and when you did, he drove away. From your hometown, from everything both of you have always known. Now you are halfway across the country, with nothing to your name, just a car and some money. 
You don’t understand why he did it. Why he came with you. Minho was not involved in this, not in the slightest - yet he just left everything behind to stay with you. I don’t want you to be alone, he told you when you asked him why he helped you. I could never leave you on your own. Minho was your friend, your best friend. You met in high school and never let each other go. But he didn’t have to do this. Sacrifice his entire life, risk it all, and for what? Maybe you would get caught. Maybe the truth would come out. Maybe not. For now Minho kept telling you to look and move forward. Even when you felt your heart would tumble out from between your lips, even when the fear was so cold you thought you would die, Minho’s voice soothed you. It will be okay, Y/N. I will always be with you. 
You were on the road a lot at first. Avoiding people, putting as much distance between you and your hometown as you could. Minho had fortunately thought to take some cash out before you left, so you had funds. It would not last very long, but it would have to do. Then you would figure it out. 
The motel room is cold, so you slide your legs under the covers to keep warm. You decided to stop for the night and get some actual rest. You did not do it all the time to save cash. Most nights you would sleep at intervals, the other one driving while the other closed their eyes. But it was more exhausting than anything, so Minho had insisted on sleeping in actual beds for once. The motel was a dingy place off the highway, but it was better than nothing, and at least, here, no one would ask questions. 
You rest your head against your knees, watching the television without really seeing it. Your thoughts are restless, trying to figure out a way out of this - if not for you, then at least for Minho. Your best friend did not deserve to throw his life away for you. Especially not because your ex boyfriend, that piece of garbage, had been so angry at you breaking up with him he framed you for something he did. Why did people believe him? 
A sigh escapes your lips as the door of the room opens on Minho. His hoodie is drawn on his head, his hair tucked away. You feel relief to see him - the room felt cold and threatening without him. You’ve never been good at being alone, and it’s even worse now. 
“Hey,” he tells you, giving you a smile as he removes his sneakers. “How did the shower feel?” 
“Really good,” you chuckle. “Did you find everything?” 
He nods, placing the plastic bag on the bed. 
“I found you a paler shade, but they didn’t have much for me. I had to get purple.” 
“Purple?” you repeat, surprised. 
“Let’s hope it suits me,” he grins with a shrug. 
You take out the two boxes of hair dye from the bag, eyeing them. It was Minho’s idea to transform yourselves a little bit, just in case. All of it felt so much like a game you sometimes forgot it was real. But it was. 
Minho’s feet make no noise against the carpet of the room. He sits on the opposite bed and you glance at him. He removed his hood, his soft brown hair disheveled on his head. He has dark eyes under his eyes, and you know his exhaustion mirrors yours. You feel a pang of guilt in your stomach, but you know what he will say if you say it out loud. I’m not leaving you alone. 
“Thanks for getting this,” you tell him.
He nods towards the drugstore plastic bag. “Got us a few things to eat, too. Nothing fancy, but…” 
“It’s great. I’m not too hungry, though.” 
“Me neither. It’s so cold here.” 
“I know, right? I tried to fix the heater, but I’m pretty sure it’s broken.” 
Minho shuffles towards the appliance and toys with it for a minute. You try to watch the television, but instead your eyes are focused on him. His dark hoodie, his faded jeans, his white socks. The frown on his face and the slight pout of his lips that he gets when he’s focused. Minho is the best friend you’ve ever had. You know him well - and him, you. You’ve gone through heartbreaks, defeats, joys, and countless other things together. But this? This is changing you. Both of you. 
And even if you feel awful about dragging him into this, you are glad he’s here. 
You wouldn’t want it to be anybody else. 
After some time, Minho clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “Nothing we can do with this…” 
“It’s fine, Min,” you say. “We’ll warm up some other way.” 
He gives you a long look and you realize what it could infer. You blush slightly. 
“I just mean, we could share a bed. Share the warmth.” 
He gives you a nod, his eyes looking soft in the dim light of the room. “Okay.” 
You tap the space next to you playfully. With an amused chuckle, Minho comes to sit next to you, tucking his legs under the sheets. The bed is not that big, so even if there is some space between you, it doesn’t feel like it. You are not shy about it - you’ve slept in the same bed numerous times, you’ve even cuddled before. But this still feels new, in a way. It feels odd. 
It feels like you and Minho are the only people left in the world. 
You watch the television, your head falling against his shoulder. He leans towards you so you’re more comfortable, his hand ending up on your leg - above the comforter. With him next to you, the both of you bundled up in hoodies, you feel much less cold. Neither of you talk. Neither of you move, either. You just breathe and let the sound of the television lull you to sleep. 
Except you do not want to sleep. Except you like Minho’s warmth a little bit too much, except he smells so much like himself you feel like drowning in delight. Except you desperately want to slide your fingers in between his, except you want to push your legs against his, except you wonder how his neck would feel under your lips. You have to admit it - you want him. 
You have for a while. It started even before all of this - random thoughts crossing your mind about kissing your best friend, about letting him treat you right like he always said guys should do. When he took your hand and ran away with you, your mind was too occupied with the mess to think about him like that, but now that the adrenaline is dying down, that this odd routine is settling him, you find yourself thinking about it again. Minho. Your best friend. Your everything. 
Your heart aches when you think about what he did for you.
What he still does every day for you.
How he smiles at you, how he looks at you. 
For now you just enjoy the moment of quiet, letting your body relax, your thoughts wander off. You are sure you are going to fall asleep right there when a noise attracts your attention. You frown, trying to listen more attentively. It’s coming from the room next to yours - thumps on the wall, voices talking. 
It quickly becomes obvious what is going on. The thumping becomes regular, and the voices turn into moans. It’s not too loud, but you can still hear it above the television. You feel yourself blush, wondering if Minho is hearing it too. You’re torn between laughing and pretending like you’re not hearing it. But as the moans grow louder, and the banging of what sounds like a headboard against the wall fastening, you can’t pretend. 
Minho is the first to laugh. You snort, the both of you falling into giggles. 
“Someone is having fun,” he says. 
“Clearly, yeah,” you laugh. 
Minho raises the volume of the television a little bit, and it muffles the sound, but you can still hear it well. You try to ignore it, but a part of you can’t help but listen. It really does sound like they are having fun. The girl is vocal, and from what you can hear, the guy is too, telling her things you can’t quite make out. She’s moaning a lot. 
You try really hard not to be turned on by the sounds, but you can’t help it. Maybe it’s because you haven’t had sex in a while - but there is something so lewd about just sitting there while other people are having sex next door. The girl’s moans are full of pleasure, and from the rhythm of the thumping, the guy is pounding into her at a fast pace.
You breathe out slowly, suddenly feeling very warm next to Minho. With a quick glance you confirm he is still staring at the television, looking entranced by what is happening on the screen. Either he doesn’t care about what he’s hearing or he’s good at ignoring it. 
The hand he has on your leg has gone very still. 
You bite your lip hard, trying to resist the urge to push your thighs together. You can feel yourself getting wet at the sounds, your imagination running wild. What position are they in? Are they lovers, or is it just a hook-up? You can’t help but think of being in her place, hands pinned to the mattress, a cock buried deep inside you, Minho breathing in your neck…
You snap back to reality. Minho? No, no. You can’t think about him that way, not now, not when he’s lying next to you in bed, warm and soft. 
Miraculously you are able to keep yourself in check. Only a few minutes later, the woman cries out particularly loud and then everything goes silent. You guess they are done - either they are going to sleep or they are leaving. Either way, you can finally breathe again, and it looks like Minho is relieved too. 
“I think I’m going to sleep,” you tell him in a low voice. “You can keep watching tv if you want, I don’t mind.” 
“I’m exhausted, too, don’t worry,” Minho smiles, looking at you. His cheeks are a little red, you notice. “I’ll just run to the bathroom and join you.” 
You nod, replacing the pillows on the mattress as he closes the television and disappears in the small bathroom. You hear the tap water, so you guess he’s brushing his teeth - you settle comfortably under the sheets, closing your eyes. You’re so tired, your body sore, your mind heavy, surely sleep will come easily. 
Except it doesn’t - because all you can think about are those sounds. 
Instinctively your hand reaches between your legs, finding their way inside your leggings to your underwear. You push two fingers against your aching core. The fabric of your panties is a little wet, and you guess that if you were to touch yourself underneath, you’d find your folds soaked. The pressure feels too good, so you keep it there for a few seconds, a soft sigh escaping your lips. 
Those moans. Those sighs. What if someone loved you like that? Made you feel good like that? Lips against your skin, maybe a mouth against your cunt, a tongue sucking in your clit, your fingers tugging at Minho’s hair… 
Fuck! 
You nearly cum at the thought, but at the same time the bathroom door opens and Minho comes back towards the bed. You remove your hand from between your legs, feeling ashamed and embarrassed. Fortunately it is dark enough for him not to see you, and he slides back into his spot next to yours. The mattress shifts under his weight, but you do not move, your head buried on the pillow. 
“Goodnight, Y/N.” 
“Goodnight, Min.” 
You’re not sure how much time has passed. Maybe minutes, maybe hours. You can’t find sleep, unable to toss and turn in the bed because you are scared to wake up Minho. At some point you find yourself drifting off, but you startle back awake. 
The moans have started again. 
Clearly the pair next door has not left, because they are back at it. You let out an audible sigh and Minho, next to you, laughs a little. 
“I guess we’re not sleeping,” he says. 
“I guess not.” 
You both lay down, facing the ceiling. The moans aren’t too loud for now, but you can imagine it’s only a matter of time before they get as intense as earlier. 
“You remember my ex, the law student?” Minho asks, all of a sudden. 
You frown, turning your head towards him. “Yeah, why?” 
“She was so loud, too,” he tells you. “Even worse than that.” 
Surprise flashes in your eyes but you can’t help chuckle. “Really?” 
“Oh, yeah. I guess when I told her I like it when my partners are vocal, she took it to heart. But like, way too much. And it sounded so fake.” 
You are glad that the room is plunged in darkness because you can feel your cheeks heat up. You and Minho have talked about sex before - you’ve even shared intimate details, but for some reason it feels different now. Maybe because minutes before you were touching yourself to the thought of him.
“Wow,” you laugh. “That’s like the opposite of my ex. He didn’t make any sound and he didn’t like it when I did…” 
Minho sighs. “What a dick, honestly.” 
“I got used to it,” you shrug. 
“He never treated you right,” Minho insists. “You have such a pretty voice, too. I’d never tell you not to make noise.” 
You feel your chest tightening, your mouth going dry. Now that your eyes are adjusted to the darkness you can see Minho pretty well, and now he’s looking flustered, blinking rapidly. 
“I - I mean… L-like I said, I just…” 
“Minho,” you whisper, interrupting him.
Your heart is beating so fast you feel like you’ll be sick, but you can’t hold it back. Especially not with the moans coming from the other room, with the warmth between your legs, with what he has just told you. I’d never tell you not to make noise. You just need to know. You need to know. 
Maybe the dark is giving you courage. Maybe it’s everything Minho does for you. Maybe it’s the way his eyes shine, so close to yours.
“Why did you come with me?” you finally ask, your voice just a whisper. 
He blinks, looking at you with wide, deep eyes. “I…” 
For a second you think he will say the same thing he always does. A part of you wants to hear it again, because you could never get tired of it, and because you know it is true - but another part of you wants to hear something else. You don’t even know if it’s possible. If it’s something he feels. But you have to try. You have to know. 
Minho takes a deep breath. “Because I love you.” 
You feel like bursting into tears because it’s all you ever wanted to hear. You grasp at the covers, tears gathering at the corners of your eyes. 
“Please tell me you feel the same,” Minho adds, hopefully, desperately. 
“I love you,” you breathe out. “Of course I love you.” 
And it’s the simplest thing. Minho reaches for you as you reach for him, your lips meeting halfway, bodies tumbling in a sweet embrace. He pulls you close, holding you in his arms, his kiss feverish, desperate, relieved, hungry. His lips dance with yours, one of his hands  holding your head. You wrap your arms around him, not wasting a second to close the distance between your bodies. His chest is firm, and as your hips meet his, you realize he’s a little hard, just like you’re wet. 
The moans continue in the next room but you barely notice them. All you can hear is the sound of Minho’s breathing, his mouth on yours. You sigh as he pulls up one of your legs over his pelvis, making you straddle him. You lay down over him, not an inch between your bodies, your lips still meeting. He kisses you firmly and deeply, his hands all over your body, feeling your waist, your legs, your ass. You remove his t-shirt. You arch your back. 
“I love you, Minho,” you keep repeating. 
“I love you,” he answers every time. 
He pushes his tongue on your lips so you open your mouth to let him in. It’s wet and warm and it sends your mind reeling. You feel drunk, you feel dizzy, and Minho kisses you so well it’s like the rest of the world fades. 
“I love you so much,” he breathes. “Fuck, you’re everything to me… Everything I want.” 
“Minho,” you sigh. “Put your hands on me, please.” 
He nods, kissing you again, his hands discovering your body. He takes one of your tits in his hand, massaging it slowly, and you roll your hips against him. He’s getting harder, his cock almost flush with your wetness, and you feel your walls throb with the craving of him. You moan against his touch, and he rolls you on your back again, towering over you. 
“Y/N,” he whispers, looking you in the eyes. 
“Hm?” 
“Please make all the noise you want,” he says. 
You smile, playing with his hair. “I promise, as long as you do, too.” 
With a grin he leans down to kiss you again, removing your shirt. You’re not wearing a bra, so he goes down to kiss your tits, swirling your tongue around your hard nipples, making you moan. Minho hums appreciatively.
“You sound so lovely,” he says. “I could never not want to hear you…” 
“Keep talking to me,” you tell him, your fingers in his air as he plays with your breasts, kissing them, licking them, teasing them. “Please keep telling me things.” 
“I promise, my angel. I promise.” 
Minho trails his tongue down your stomach, pushing your sweatpants down, leaving you in just your underwear. He looks down at you, placing two fingers against your clit, above the fabric. He starts to draw soft circles, making you shiver. 
“F-fuck, Minho…” 
“You’re so wet, angel. Is it because of our neighbors?” 
You bite your lip. “A little,” you say, although it’s hard to speak as Minho keeps stroking your wetness. “But also - also… You…”
“Me?” he asks, finally pulling down your panties to reveal your slicked folds. 
“I could only t-think of you… Hearing them…” 
“You imagined it was me making you moan like that? Fucking you deep into the motel bed? Is that what you would like, my angel?” 
You nod, Minho’s breath feeling warm against your cunt, his agile fingers exploring your folds. He spreads your legs, holding your legs apart. “Y-yes…” 
“I’ll do my best,” he smiles. “I just want to spend some time down here before I fuck you… I’ve wanted to treat you right for so long… I want to make you cum, is that all right?” 
As he asks, he pushes two fingers inside of you, and you let out a shuddering moan. 
“Tell me,” he says softly.
“Y-yes, Minho, please! Make me cum!” 
“Fuck, just hearing you say that, I could cum on the spot.” 
But he doesn’t - instead he leans into you, his mouth covering your wetness. His tongue swirls around your clit, collecting your slick, and you can’t help but moan uncontrollably. He makes you feel so good, so loved. His lips kissing you, his tongue everywhere, pushing and teasing. He moves his fingers inside of you at the same time, curving them into your sweet spots, and you grasp at the sheets, lost in your pleasure. 
“Fuck, yes, keep moaning for me, angel,” he breathes. “Don’t hold back.” 
You couldn’t if you wanted to - Minho is too good at what he does, like he already knows everything that makes you go crazy. His rhythm accelerates, then slows down, his mouth deliciously eating your cunt. You can’t think anymore, one of your hands is lost in his soft hair. Your moans accompany the ones from next door, combined with the wet sounds of Minho’s tongue and fingers around your drenched pussy. 
“I’m gonna cum,” you cry out. “Minho, I’m…” 
He doesn’t say anything, just accelerates exactly what he was doing, and your orgasm flashes through you. Minho keeps licking your cunt until you stop shaking, and then slowly makes his way up your body, placing wet kisses on your skin. You don’t think you’ve ever moaned this loud in your life, and as you start to come down your high, you feel a little embarrassed. 
When he kisses your lips, tasting of you, you open your eyes. Even in the dark you can see that his mouth is a little swollen, still wet with your juices. 
“S-sorry…” you whimper. 
He frowns, stroking your hair. “Why are you sorry?” 
“Was I too loud?” 
He smiles, cupping your cheeks. “You could never be too loud. I just hope it was good for you.” 
“Are you kidding?” you chuckle. “That was the best orgasm of my life.” 
Minho laughs, and your heart swells at the sight of his teeth, the shape of his eyes. He is so beautiful. And he loves you. With a sudden surge of love you bounce upwards, kissing him deeply, and you want to touch him everywhere. Minho lets your hands roam over his body, and you quickly reach his boxers, where you find his hard cock. You palm it over the fabric and it twitches a little. Minho grunts. 
“You still want this?” he asks. 
You nod. “I want you. All of you.” 
He answers with a kiss, and helps you get rid of his boxers, his cock springing free. You stroke with one hand, the other pushing him down the bed. 
“Want to taste you, too,” you say, and you feel his breath shudder inside your mouth. 
Kneeling next to him, you kiss his stomach, his hips, his thighs - admiring at the same time the firm muscles of his body. Minho gathers your hair in his hand, holding it back from your face, breathing hard. 
You take his cock in your hand, kissing the tip, and you hear him grunt. You’re glad he doesn’t hold back making noise, just like he promised. You glance at him as you wrap your lips around his cock, slowly. Minho looks back at you, his eyes glassy, his mouth parted. You keep your eyes on each other as you go down his cock, taking all you can of him, and when you almost reach down he throws his head backwards in pleasure. 
“F-fuck, Y/N!” he growls. “You’re taking me whole… S-such a warm mouth…” 
You hum around his cock, starting to bob your head up and down, sucking him. Your tongue works too, teasing and licking him. Minho moans, the sound filling the room and your heart, and it’s so alluring you have to press two fingers against your cunt. 
“Don’t stop,” Minho breathes. “Don’t stop, take it deeper… Just a little more - fuck, yes! Right there.” 
He thrusts his hips a little as you keep sucking him. He feels big in your mouth, and you know your lips will be sore, but you don’t care. Making him feel this good is intoxicating, and you don’t want to stop. 
“My angel,” he moans. “Looking so pretty with my cock around her lips…” 
He keeps whispering things, and you can’t help but moan alongside him, touching yourself at the same time. You could cum like this again, with Minho’s cock between your lips, his fingers pulling your hair softly. But after another minute, he strokes your cheek. 
“Come back to me, angel,” he whispers. “I don’t want to cum like this.” 
You are eager for his lips again so you do not insist, and Minho wraps you into an embrace, kissing you softly. He is warm, so warm - your bodies are a little sweaty, eager for each other. 
When he stops, you frown. “Is everything all right?” 
“They stopped,” he says, and you realize he is right. 
The room next door has gone silent again. You chuckle, but at the moment, you don’t really care. Neither does Minho, because he shrugs and kisses you again. He lays you down on the mattress again, holding your legs apart, his cock teasing your entrance. 
“I don’t have -” he looks at you.
“It’s okay,” you smile. “I don’t mind. I want you to fuck me like that.” 
He growls, leaning into your ear. The tip of his cock enters your hole, but he doesn’t go further, just feeling it there. You whimper for more, but Minho is busy kissing your neck and your ear. 
“I love hearing you say lewd stuff like that,” he chuckles. “It’s really hot.” 
“I like hearing you say it too,” you admit, kissing his shoulder. “Tell me something… Something you never thought you would say aloud.” 
A flash appears in his eyes, and he smiles. He kisses you, and whispers it against your lips. 
“I want to fuck you raw and mark you as mine,” he breathes. “Fill your sweet cunt with my cum and fuck it again, deep inside of you. Claim you. Keep you with me forever.” 
Your cunt tightens so much at the words you are sure Minho will feel it - and from the way his hips thrust forward, he might have. 
“I’m yours,” you whisper. “I’m yours, yours, yours.” 
Minho pushes deeper inside of you with every word until he bottoms out, stretching you, filling you. You moan his name again and again as he starts to fuck you, his hips gently meeting yours at first, letting you get used to him. 
“Mine,” he repeats. “Mine, as much as I’m yours.” 
You nod as his movements start getting sharper, slamming into you, his cock reaching deep inside of you. You can hear the wet sounds of your cunt around his dick and it makes you dizzy. 
“Tell me I’m yours,” Minho breathes, pumping his cock into you. 
“You’re mine,” you say, digging your fingers into his back. Your nails mark him, and they must hurt him, but Minho only moans louder. “Mine, mine.” 
He fucks you into the mattress, his hands holding your waist, your legs spread apart for him. After some time he lifts your ass a little, holding your legs up around him, and with this angle he reaches even deeper inside of you. 
“Fuck, fuck, fuck…” 
You moan with him, your voices and breathing mixing together. You are so close to cumming, clenching his cock hard, coating it with your juices. 
“Minho, fuck! I’m cumming!” you cry out. 
Your climax rushes through you. Minho follows a second after, pushing as deep inside of you as he can. You can feel the warm spurts of white cum filling you, his cock throbbing, and when he is done he keeps fucking you for a minute. 
“My angel… mine,” he whispers. 
When both of your bodies start to untense, Minho removes himself from you, stroking your cunt with his fingers. He gathers some of your juices mixed with his cum, and brings it to your lips. You stare up at him and lick his fingers clean. He stares at you with a soft smile, tenderness spilling out of his eyes. 
He falls back on the mattress next to you, as spent as you are. 
“That was the hottest sex of my life,” he breathes. 
“Me too,” you chuckle, turning just to wrap an arm around his chest. 
He plays with your hair, kisses the top of your hair. “You know I meant it, right?” 
“What?” 
“Everything I said. I love you so much, Y/N.” 
You look up at him, feeling your heart swell in your chest. “I know. Me too, Min. I love you. You’re mine. I want to stay with you forever.” 
He smiles. “I’ll never get tired of hearing you say that.” 
You stay like that for a minute, just breathing, until Minho squeezes your hand, helping you up on your feet. He wants to help you clean up and feel good before you go to sleep. Holding your hand, he guides you towards the bathroom. Only then do you realize something and laugh.
“If we could hear them so well… Do you think our neighbors heard us?” 
Minho laughs. “Definitely.” 
•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•
this was much longer than I thought it would be... but there it is! I had so much fun writing this I hope you will like it! please share your thoughts with me if you want ♡ reblogs and feedback is much appreciated!! ♡
↻ taglist: @lix-ables (just write if you want to be added!)
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thisapplepielife · 1 year ago
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Written for the @steddiemas challenge.
Winter of 1975
Prompt Day 2: Winter Themed Sentence Starters | Word Count: 1200 | Rating: T | CW: Language, Mentions of Childhood Trauma, Innuendo | Tags: Future Fic, Established Relationship, Gift Giving, Softness, Steve POV
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"Did I ever tell you about the winter of '75?" Eddie asks, curling up on the couch next to Steve, tucking his feet under him.
Steve shakes his head no, at least he doesn't think so. Or if he has, Eddie didn't word it like that.
"When you were ten?" Steve asks. 
Eddie nods, "When I was ten. My mom had died, you know, earlier that year. And my dad, well, you know."
Steve nods. He knows. He stretches his arm out, and lets Eddie curl into him.
"Well, Uncle Wayne was bound and determined to make it a good Christmas. It wasn't possible, not really, but he was gonna try his best."
Steve smiles, that sounds like Wayne. If there's anything Steve knows, it's that Wayne Munson loves Eddie. 
"Well, he took me sledding. I broke my arm. He bought a real tree. I was allergic to pine. We made hot cocoa on the stove, and I dropped it, nearly scalding my feet. Just, you know, everything that could go wrong, did. It's the Munson way," Eddie says, with a laugh. 
Steve kisses him on the head, and tries to remember what the Christmas of 1975 looked like for him. He imagines he got all the toys he wanted, and his parents hosted parties in their house that he wasn't invited to attend. Sitting on the second floor, little hands gripping the slats of the railing, just hoping to get a glimpse of what was going on, down below. Hoping to see his parents, for just a few minutes. The usual.
Those nights were always the worst. As soon as he got home from school, they'd feed him an early dinner and send him straight up to bed. And then the activity started downstairs, without him. He wonders now, as an adult, why they didn't just invite some kids? They could have still been corralled upstairs, away from the party, but he wouldn't have been all alone. Even if it was just Tommy H. That would have gone a long way to making them tolerable.
Eddie continues talking, "But Uncle Wayne kept trying. He bought me a Pet Rock," Eddie says, with a laugh. "I begged for it in the store, and it cost four dollars. He bought it and handed it over, and I opened the box. And it was a rock."
Steve laughs, he had one, too. Everybody did, he's pretty sure.
"Well, the name was pretty clear about what it was," Steve says.
"I know. I just wanted it to be something else, I guess. Something a little more lively. It was just a rock. Whoever invented that was a genius. Think of all the money they made. For rocks."
Steve smiles at him.
"But, Uncle Wayne just bought me some paints, and brushes, and told me to make it whatever I wanted it to be then."
Eddie smiles, "So I did. I gave it eyes, and some hair, and it looked a little goofy. But it had some personality."
"Like you," Steve says, hugging Eddie closer. 
Eddie just rolls his eyes, "Anyway. I loved it after that. But, I still had paint, so Uncle Wayne got me a sketchbook. And I started drawing, and then painting what I'd drawn. Like my own coloring book, but filled with everything I liked, and nothing for little babies," Eddie says, laughing. "The fridge was full of weird shit that was coming out of my brain."
Steve nods. Weird shit is still coming out of Eddie's mind, and he loves it all. Every last thing. He might not understand it all, but he likes that Eddie is curious about the world around him. That he has opinions. Strong opinions, sometimes, sure. Even wrong opinions in Steve's mind. But opinions. Eddie wants to talk about the things that run through his mind, and Steve wants him to, always willing to listen.
"Anyway. I learned to draw. To paint. To love art, because of that Pet Rock. I designed all my own tattoos. I did the Hellfire logo. It gave me an outlet I didn't know I needed or wanted."
Steve kisses his bare shoulder, hoping he'll continue. He loves to hear him talk. 
"Well, all that said," Eddie says, pulling a wrapped box out from under the coffee table, and handing it to Steve. 
It's not Christmas, not yet.
"It's not Christmas yet," Steve argues.
"It's not a Christmas present," Eddie says.
"The wrapping paper says otherwise," Steve teases, and Eddie laughs, pinching his side. It is wrapped in red, with a heavy fabric bow that there's no way Eddie did.
"Who wrapped this?" Steve follows up, needing to know. Because it damn well wasn't Eddie.
"Excuse you? You don't think I could wrap this?" Eddie asks, acting very affronted by this accusation.
Steve just raises one eyebrow.
"Erica did," Eddie mutters, "just open it."
So, Steve opens it, carefully. And when he pulls back the tissue paper, it's a painting of the two of them. From a million years ago. Walking through the forest. But it's not dark, and red, like it really was that night. Here, it's lush and green, with the sun shining overhead, casting gorgeous shadows all through the trees. 
It's stunning. 
Steve meets Eddie's eyes, "It's beautiful."
"Well, it's only beautiful because you are," Eddie says, and Steve blushes. Just a little. Even after all these years.
"When did you have time to do this?" Steve asks, because he definitely hasn't seen Eddie working on a canvas lately. He'd have noticed that. The mess alone. The mugs of dirty, paint stained water. The countertop lined with drying brushes.
He's seen no evidence of any of that. 
Eddie smiles, "I did it at Wayne's. During our Sunday morning breakfasts. We talked while I painted. And yes, I cleaned up my own messes," Eddie says, dryly.
Steve just smiles at him.
"It's really good, Eddie. Really, really good. You could do this, if you wanted to. For a living."
Eddie just laughs, "We definitely don't have the luxury of me painting with the hopes that I'll sell some of them. And that's okay. Maybe someday," Eddie says.
Steve knows he's right. They aren't exactly rolling in money, but maybe someday they'll be better off, and Eddie will be able to just stay home, doing something he loves. Wouldn't that be something?
"You know, I do have other ideas of things to paint…" Eddie trails off, and the glint in his eye means he's definitely up to no good.
"Oh lord, what?" Steve asks, suspicious of that look in his eye.
"How do you feel about posing nude for me?" Eddie asks, giving him the eyes.
Steve barks out a laugh. Sure. He'll pose nude for Eddie. It's not like he's shy or anything. Eddie has definitely seen it all before.
He only has one question.
"What are you gonna do with it once you're done?" Steve asks, raising his eyebrow, imploring for the truth.
Eddie just grins, that evil grin of his, and Steve shakes his head. Oh well. He definitely knew what he was getting into once he decided to spend his life with Eddie Munson. 
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Notes: Pet Rocks were, in fact, all the rage for the Christmas of '75. A the guy who made them made, like, a million dollars. 🪨 💰
If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddiemas and follow along!
If you want to see more of my entries from this challenge, they are in my tag right here!
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ataliagold · 5 months ago
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the edges of your soul i haven't seen yet
This came from wanting to expand on the ideas in 'you're the only one who knows, you slow it down', but consider this a new fic with very similar ideas. I'm not sure how long it'll be yet, but here's the first chapter. Title from Forever by Noah Kahan.
Also on AO3 here.
Pairing: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson
Rating: T (currently)
Tags: modern au, no upside down, autistic steve, steve has a service cat, eddie and steve fall in love while working at a farmers' market, stimming, autistic meltdowns/shutdowns/stimming, platonic soulmates steve and robin, eddie is a sweetheart
Summary: Eddie's reluctantly helping Wayne with his produce stall at the farmers' market. He's resigned himself to a boring summer - until a new face shows up at the market to run a baking stall with his best friend. Steve is...odd, like no one Eddie's ever met.
And it doesn't take him long to fall head over heels for him.
___
Chapter One
Eddie isn’t particularly enjoying his morning.
Not yet, anyway.
He grunts as Wayne loads another box into his arms, adjusting his footing under the weight of the produce, of apples and pears, oranges and grapefruit, of avocados and sweet potatoes and carrots and lettuces…
“Right, that’s the last of it,” Wayne announces, dusting his hands off and locking his pick-up behind him.
“Thank fuck,” Eddie grumbles. He makes his way towards their stall, cursing as he trips a little and loses an apple or two. There’s sweat dripping down his spine already, this summer proving to be particularly hot and humid even at eight fucking thirty a.m.
But Eddie had promised Wayne he’d help him out at the farmers’ market this weekend, since he had nothing better on, since his friends had actually gotten in to colleges and were busy getting ready to move away, since Eddie had been sort of…left behind, with nothing to do but trail after his uncle like a bad smell.
He does as he’s told. Sets the boxes down where Wayne points, helps him set the produce out, puts the little cardboard signs with the prices scribbled on them at the front of the table.
Once that’s finished, Eddie sinks into a plastic camp chair with a sigh, reaching for an apple and loudly crunching into it, ignoring the half-hearted glare Wayne shoots back at him.
There’s only a couple of people here this early – mostly other stall-holders setting up, the occasional dog-walker taking a non-committal glance at the wares, an old lady or two with purses clutched close to their middles.
It’s gonna be a boring morning.
Eddie chucks his headphones on, cranks the music as loud as he’ll get away with, and settles in for several hours of withering in the heat and making sure no one pockets an extra pear.
Eventually, his gaze wanders.
Wayne’s talking to a customer, something about the growing season for oranges or some shit, when Eddie claps eyes on the most beautiful boy he’s ever seen.
He sits up. Swallows, stares because he can’t help it.
There’s a literal god unfolding a table not far away, placing a thin yellow blanket on the top, smoothing it out just so. He’s about Eddie’s age, all olive skin dotted with moles and broad shoulders and golden hair that’s fallen effortlessly into place. Glasses frame his face, his perfect fucking face with those pink lips and square jaw, and even from here Eddie can see the look of concentration on the boy’s face, his brows slightly drawn together as he tucks the blanket in at the corners, as he readjusts several times to make sure it’s completely straight on the table.
A light smack to his knee jolts Eddie out of his daze, forces him to drag his gaze reluctantly back to Wayne. Wayne, who’s frowning at him, shaking his head.
“Turn your damn music down, Eds,” Wayne huffs, “need ya to dig me out some change.”
Eddie doesn’t argue. Lets Wayne believe he was distracted by his music, not by the boy several stalls over.
He rifles through their tin of change, picking out a few quarters, and then sneaks a look back again.
The boy’s bent over the table, light-wash jeans pulled tight across his ass, and Eddie’s pretty sure he’s openly gaping at the guy right now but he can’t fucking help it. It’s a baking stall, by the look of the cupcakes and cookies the boy’s currently placing out on the table, tongue poking ever so slightly out of his mouth as he works. The boy pauses for a moment in front of the table, as if assessing his wares for anything out of place.
“Eddie!” Wayne says again, exasperated. “You got that change, or what?”
Eddie snaps his mouth shut. Turns back to Wayne, hands him the change which his uncle takes with a shake of his head. Once the customer has left with a paper bag of carrots in hand, Eddie makes a decision.
“You want a cookie?” he asks Wayne.
“Huh?”
“A cookie,” Eddie repeats, slowly.
Wayne looks down at his watch. “It’s barely gone nine a.m.”
“So? I’m getting one. You want one, or not?”
After Wayne declines, Eddie heads off with a shrug, making straight for the tall boy still frowning down at his baking, thumb drawing anxious patterns on his index finger.
As he approaches, Eddie’s words die in his throat.
He’d planned on flirting. Was ready to try and charm the pants right off this boy, as quickly as he decently could.
But the closer he got, the more the butterflies began in his stomach.
Because somehow, he only got more attractive with every step Eddie took.
And yeah, he wasn’t usually one for ironed polos and blue jeans and bright white Nikes that looked meticulously clean, but Eddie’s cheeks were reddening and his heart was pounding when he reached the stall.
The boy didn’t turn around at his approach.
Not until Eddie clears his throat a little awkwardly, hand brushing over the back of his neck. Sheepish. Shy. Two things he’s never been in his whole fucking life.
“Uh…hi,” Eddie starts.
The boy’s eyes widen behind his glasses. His hands grasp each other, almost frantically, and his gaze darts from Eddie, to the table, to somewhere off behind him. He opens his mouth briefly, but closes it again without speaking.
Huh, Eddie thinks.
Well, maybe the guy’s even shyer than he is right now.
Eddie tries again. “I saw you setting up, looks good. The…the baking, I mean, not…not you setting up. Well, that too, honestly, but I thought…” Eddie trails off, internally kicking himself.
You fucking idiot, Munson.
The boy blinks at him.
When he still doesn’t speak, Eddie shifts from foot to foot a little, then finally steps over to the table.
“Well, I’m just gonna have a look, if that’s ok?”
The boy nods. Quick, his head jerking a little, the movement stiff and awkward.
Eddie feels his eyes boring into his back as he scans the table. There’s cupcakes with piped-on frosting in several different patterns but all of them yellow, matching the boy’s soft polo that was clinging unfairly to his chest. There’s slices of brownies, cookies of varying flavours, apple pie and cinnamon donuts and red velvet cake and shortbread…
“Did you make all of these?” Eddie asks, a little in awe.
Polo-boy nods, not meeting Eddie’s eye. He’s wringing his hands, clenching his jaw, repeatedly glancing over Eddie’s shoulder as if he’s looking for someone.
“Shit, that’s…there’s so much different stuff here, how long did it take you?” And Eddie’s genuinely curious, he’s not just talking for the sake of it, for the purpose of squeezing at least a word or two out of this guy. Because everything on that table was meticulous – the cookies perfectly round, the pie sliced into completely even pieces, not even a stray dribble of batter or frosting on the cupcake liners (also yellow, Eddie noted) – there’s so much effort gone into this, and Eddie’s impressed.
The boy wants to speak, it looks like.
Eddie waits while he opens and closes his mouth a few times, flapping a hand in front of him.
“Hey Stevie, everything ok?”
A girl wanders over with several cake boxes in her arms, glancing between Stevie and Eddie. She’s got short hair, a dusting of freckles across her face, and a yellow top on to match the boy in front of Eddie, who relaxes a tiny bit as soon as he sees her.
He nods, but doesn’t stop clenching his hands together over his stomach.
The girl puts the boxes down, and steps over to the boy.
“Hey, it’s ok,” she murmurs softly, “we talked about this, remember? You’re fine, just…take a breath, ok?”
Eddie turns away from them. Senses this isn’t a conversation meant for him, and brings his attention back to the table, pretending he’s just…really interested in cupcakes all of a sudden. But he’s only a couple of feet away, and the girl doesn’t seem to care that he can overhear.
“Has he asked to buy something?”
“No.”
It’s the first time Eddie’s heard the boy speak. His voice is quiet, not much above a whisper, but Eddie wants to hear more of it.
“He wanted to know how long it took me,” the boy continues, “to make everything.”
“Ok…so did you answer?”
“No. Wanted to.”
“Your words get stuck?”
“Mmm hmm.”
“Well, that’s ok. Here, I’ll help you.”
“Robin -”
“You gotta try, Stevie. You can do it, come on.”
Eddie turns back to them as Robin tows the guy – Stevie? – over by his sleeve.
“Hi.” She grins at Eddie, and the boy stands slightly behind her, looking down at his feet. “This is Steve, I’m Robin. It’s our first time at a market and Steve’s kinda nervous. Can we help you with anything?”
Eddie’s eyes flick back to Steve, to his red cheeks and long eyelashes. His heart thuds in his chest.
He smiles at them. “I’m Eddie, my uncles got a stall just over there.” He jabs his thumb over his shoulder. “We sell fruit and shit. This is really your first day? Your set up is…really nice.”
“Thanks.” Robin beams even wider. “It was all Steve really, he did all the baking too, I’m just here to help out.”
Eddie nods slowly. Steve’s still avoiding his eye, no matter how much Eddie tries to catch it.
Swallowing his disappointment, he points to one of the chocolate chip cookies on the table.
“Can I get one of those, please?”
Robin nods briskly. “Steve, can you sort that?” She nudges him slightly in the side, and Steve springs into action, seemingly happy to give his hands something to do as he grabs a paper bag and looks around the table for something.
He freezes suddenly.
Robin’s back at his side immediately.
“Everything ok?” she asks quietly.
He shakes his head, flaps a hand at the table, face drawn tight in a frown.
“Where’s the…” he mumbles, trailing off.
“The what?” Robin prompts.
Steve bites his bottom lip, hands finding his thighs and tugging at his jeans, frustrated. Seemingly unable to find the word, he brings a hand up to chest height and makes a little snapping motion with his fingers.
“…tongs?” Robin guesses, and Steve nods briskly. “Maybe we left them in the car? I’ll go have a look.”
“It’s fine, you can just use your fingers,” Eddie offers, because he truly couldn’t care less.
Steve shakes his head vehemently, face tightening even further.
“Or…I could grab it?” Eddie tries, but Steve shakes his head again, looking so distressed that Eddie shuts up.
There’s a meow from somewhere behind the table.
A black and white cat emerges from under it, a red collar around its neck, and approaches Steve confidently, pressing up against his legs.
Steve ignores the cat, at first.
He’s digging a thumbnail into the meat of his palm, shuffling from foot to foot every so often, dragging a lip so hard between his teeth that Eddie’s worried he’s gonna make it bleed, and Eddie isn’t sure what to do. He wants to help, wants to somehow soothe the boy, but he isn’t sure how, thinks if he gets any closer to him he’ll only make things worse.
The cats meows again. Presses itself harder up against Steve, stretches up so its little front paws are against his thigh, kneading insistently, refusing to be ignored.
Steve sags a little. Reaches down with a trembling hand, strokes it across the cat’s head, and Eddie can hear the rumbling purr start up from the little creature. He watches as Steve loosens up, as his fingers unclench and his teeth release his lip and the frown fades slowly from his lovely face.
Robin returns, snapping the tongs triumphantly, and hands them to Steve.
He takes them happily and returns to his task, placing Eddie’s chosen cookie into the bag with more care than Eddie’s ever seen from someone serving him food before.
Eddie takes the offered bag, the divine scent wafting out and making his mouth water. Wayne was going to regret not asking for one, he knows.
Steve looks up, catches his eye for the tiniest moment, then his gaze ducks away.
“Thanks, Steve,” Eddie says softly. “This smells great, seriously. And if you guys need anything,” he looks over to Robin to include her, too, “come see me at the fruit stall, I’m just over there.” He points in the direction of Wayne, who’s no doubt getting grumpier by the minute at Eddie’s absence.
Please come, Eddie begs silently, eyeing Steve one last time before he turns away.
“Three days,” Steve blurts out as Eddie starts to walk away.
Eddie pauses, turns back to him.
Steve’s eyes are fixed on his shoes again, and he rocks back and forth on his heels slightly. Robin glances between the two of them, then looks hopefully back at Steve.
Eddie frowns slightly, about to question him, when Steve speaks again.
“It took me three days. To bake everything. Wanted it all to be perfect.”
Eddie smiles, wide and warm.
“It is, Steve.”
___
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star-farer · 1 month ago
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clone of solitude
Summary: When the hands that wipe your tears away are your own. AU: HFSW, Ik'aad Taglist: @kybercrystals94 @fionas-frenzy @padawancat97 @margindoodles2407 @dreamsight73 @groguandthebadbatch @comfy-vember
Comfy-vember 2024, Day 22: Lamplight
She recalls reaching up, ever up, arms outstretched beyond her head. She recalls whining shrill and high, shrieking her tantrums with hands that clenched open and shut, tugging at hems of clothing rough and old.
A laugh would rumble in the air like warm seaquakes, or a sigh would flow softly as a shoal flitting past clear windows. Arms would surround her body, even littler than she is now, and lift her up into the firm hold of a father.
At times, it was for him alone she reached. To wind her arms around his neck, to rest her head upon his shoulder, to be comforted with the simple embrace of his beating heart and kind voice.
More often, however, her demands were for all and sundry.
The doll sitting too far above with taunting eyes. The fruit tucked away in a cabinet. The object of her desire held away from her grasping paws.
Her arms would stretch, and her voice would insist, and she would look up, always up, ever up. Once her wishes would be granted, once she would be denied.
But now, alone in her bed, alone in her shared chambers, her Kaminoan caretaker elsewhere delving even at such dark hours into alchemical realms, Omega recalls reaching, ever up, ever beyond her head, for the lamps glowing white and set in high ceilings.
“The sun!” she recalls crying out at last, one stubby finger pointing with the hand that does not use her father’s shoulder for support. “The sun!”
His face had drawn quiet, pinching together as if in pain. “Nayc, ad’ika,” he had spoken in silent voice, “You are mistaken. That is only a lamp of the Kaminii’se.”
Perhaps her confusion had shown, for his lips had twisted in a rueful smile. He had laughed, subdued though it had been, and brought her down to sit upon his lap.
“Tech could expound upon their differences better, ner kar’ta. But I will tell you what I know as best as I am able.”
He had waved one arm above. “These lamps, they shine with the magic of our creators. Therein lies their power: in the hands of the Kaminoans.”
“But the sun—” and then, she had seen a madness in his wide eyes, wonderful and awestruck— “The sun is not one that derives its glory from another. From within itself, by means we do not understand, it glows with strength unimaginable.”
“May I see it, Buir?” had been her request, breathless from the brilliance he had described.
And—
She closes her eyes, even if it is the same void before and beneath her eyelids. She turns to her side and pulls her blanket up under her chin, imagining phantom hands tucking her in gently and stroking her hair.
Oh, his face, his face, how great his anguish had been, strewn about the lines and scars, edging along the dark ink that shrouded him half in the image of death. There is no doubt she had seen tears shining in his eyes, a thin layer of shimmering gauze. If the lamps were the undersea images of the sun, his eyes could replace the stars.
From the back of his throat had come a strange noise, and a smile erupted from his crumbling features for her alone.
“Perhaps one day, kar’ika, you will see it. Perhaps one day, I shall hold your hand in mine and show you the world above the seas.”
The pillow provides soft ground to bury the tears flowing from her eyes, presently. She had not understood the reason for his sorrow that day.
She had not known it was the last moment she would spend in his company.
The air grows heavy and stifling, the darkness muffling both breath and thought. Suddenly, she finds herself yearning for the light, warm and true. Suddenly, she finds herself longing for strong arms and tender voices and dear kisses that chase her fears away.
She leans over her bed, she fumbles for the stand at her bedside.
Suddenly, she finds herself in need of the stars in the eyes of her aliit.
Upon the stand is a canister of glass, encased in a sliding sheath of metal. Desperate fingers graze the handle, and she pulls its shutter open.
She breathes a sigh of tear-stained relief at the sight of the familiar gleam of blue.
Nala Se has allowed her this kindness, to keep to herself in this vessel the luminescent beings of the sea. They are studied, these unseen and numerous creatures, in the many laboratories of the subnautical fortress. As a viscous blur, their slow pulsating glow is the only surety she bears that they are indeed filled with life.
She sits there, in the dark, watching her little blue lamp, hands clutching her blanket to her chest. Her cheeks are wet, and she tastes salt at the edges of her lips.
A year has passed since she sat last in the dear company of her buire. A year since she has heard their hearty laughter, seen their ever-wide smiles. A year since she has been torn cold from love.
She knows little of them now, their whereabouts forever lost to fleeting speech and remarks whisked away from her ears too swiftly. They are upon one island, battling the undead, and only a moment later they have crossed onto the next.
There are tales of their prowess. Of one with curious devices aplenty and diction too particular for any clone. Of another who rends rock asunder with his bare hands and speaks in thunder. Of a third with a tongue like a sharp lash and sharper arrows that forever strike their mark. Of a leader whose bold words bear fangs and moves quicker than wit.
But that is all they are, here at the end of the day: tales, mere words, crafted by men who have not known them as she. Who have not seen their true colours, a lively harmony of joy and valor. Who have not heard their gentle lullabies fill the air with the tenets of soldiers and the legends of sailors.
She pulls the pillow before her face, holds it close against her heart like a doll of red and black. Her lamp glows, her sheets rustle, she sits weeping unspoken tears in the dead of sea-night.
And her mind reaches for the shadows of her lost loves.
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delusionalbitchinthehouse · 3 months ago
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Hurt/very, very little comfort. Like barely a hint, and I might be imaginating it by reading too much into my own work. Delta is doing bad, the ghouls are a mess.
If Alpha hadn't been distracted by his own thought, he would have noticed much sooner the tense silence smothering anyone stepping foot in the common room sooner.
As it is, it takes Mist loudly clearing her throat to snap him out of his own head. His shoulders immediately stiffen as the atmosphere finally registers.
Ifrit, crossed-legged on the rug, looks devastated, eyes red and puffy, elbows on the coffee table, gripping his hair with enough strenght to turn his knuckles white. Zephyr is sitting on the couch behind him, lips drawn in a thin line, frown knitting his eyebrows, shoulders slouching. Mist...she throws Alpha a look that almost has him stumbling in shock : helplessness is written all across her face as she paces nervously, whole body tense as a bowstring, ready to snap. Alpha never saw her like this. It makes his stomach roll uneasily.
Then his eyes land on Omega, and it's like being punched in the guts. The quint is unusually quiet, curled in on himself despite still standing, like he's trying to make himself as small as possible, ears flat against his skull, tail tucked between his legs. Before Alpha can reach him, smooth a hand along his back and enquire what's wrong, a shuffling draws his attention toward Pebble and Ivy.
And oh, Alpha is starting to understand the pattern. Pebble looks positively furious. Snarling silently, glaring at Omega like he believes looks can kill, the only reason he hasn't drawn blood yet seems to be Ivy's arms coiled tightly around him, refusing to let him go in spite of sharp elbows being thrown at his ribs or feet stomping on his.
There is only one reason Pebble could look so ready to maul Omega, someone he, despite what the past few years made transpire between them, respects very much ; something happened to Delta.
That certainty settles in Alpha's bones like ice, chilling him to his core, and not even his internal fire can thaw such a realisation.
Given the situation, Alpha turns to the person most likely to give him a straight answer.
"Zeph ?"
Zephyr lifts heavy, tired eyes toward him.
"Delta...something happened. He collapsed in the middle of the hallway...he's stable now, but very weak. Aether is watching over him."
So it's getting worse again. Alpha's stomach churn. Delta barely pulled through the last time he had such a crisis, not long after the Papas' murder. So now...
"I should go check on..."
"You won't get anywhere near him, you hear me ?!"
Omega's weak offer gets cut off by Pebble's venemous growl, straining against Ivy with renewed energy, fangs bared. Omega seems to shrivel under the earth ghoul's scalding anger.
"He needs-"
Pebble nearly manages to jostle himself free, sending both himself and Ivy sprawling onthe floor, from which he keeps spitting his rage at Omega's face.
"Aether's with him, he certainly doesn't need you. You're the one who fucked up his transition so bad-"
"I did my best, water and quint are such unstable elements-"
"-had him repatching himself on a molecular fucking level-"
"-was the first ever attempted, I didn't know that would happen, he begged me to-"
"-and now Delta's half dead on a hospital bed, and it's all because of you, are you proud, Omega-"
The room disolves in chaos, between Pebble's accusation becoming more and more frantic, Omega attempting to defend himself while slowly crumbling, Ivy begging them to stop, Ifrit breaking down again, sobs raking his whole body while Zephyr does their best comforting and shushing him, Mist seemingly hesitating between knocking someone out or banging her head against the wall.
Alpha's head is pounding, the image of Delta laying lifelessly on white sheets barely paler than him bounces inside of it, a spike of nausea-inducing panic nearly has him retching, and that's just it.
The second Pebble manages to wiggle his way out of Ivy's grasp, lunging claws first toward Omega, Alpha's instinct kicks up. He tackles the earth ghoul, one arm around his waist, the other around his middle, trapping Pebble's arms against his body. Uncaring of the thrashing, Alpha holds on tight.
"Let it all out. Come on, give me everything, give it to me, i can take it."
And Pebble does. Kicks, yells, spits curses, snaps his jaws, even sinks his fangs in Alpha's shoulder, but the fire ghoul doesn't budge, kneeling on the worn carpet, arms unyielding around him even as he calls him every names under the sun and then more.
After a while, the earth ghoul slumps, and Alpha knows he's crying silently of his shoulder, can feel the dampness through his shirt, the occasional twinge of salt on the fresh bite mark there. It speaks volume on Pebble's emotional state, that he let himself cry on Alpha of all people ; any other day, the fire ghoul would get disembowled if he had the unfortune of seeing Pebble with even the slightest hint of tears in his eyes.
"Alright. You're alright."
A shaky exhale, a shudder. Pebble doesn't look at anyone when Alpha releases him, making a beeline for the door, no doubt heading for the infirmary, but he pauses at the threshold. Hand lingering on the handle. He doesn't look back, but the hesitation is there. A heartbeat later, he's gone.
Alpha shares a look with Mist, who's helping Ivy get to the couch next to where Ifrit curled against Zephyr in distress. She jerks her chin toward Omega, then sticks her thumb in the direction of the huddled mass of ghouls on the couch.
You deal with him, I deal with them.
Smart girl.
Alpha glances at where Omega slid down against the wall, knees to his chest, eyes staring unseeingly. With a heavy heart, the fire ghoul reads the pain clear as day on the quint's pinched features.
There will be many more tears to drytonight.
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ghcstify · 7 months ago
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✦ . ⁺ I CAN’T DO THIS ANYMORE
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maggie rhee x fem reader (platonic)
¡! warnings: usual lineup details, reader is in a deep state of depression, mentions of not eating, & thoughts of self-harm
¡! a/n: you are the adoptive daughter of maggie and glenn in this one. sorry if i break your guys’ heart… anyway, thank you for all the love <3
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you couldn't comprehend it. how could such an evil man take away your father figure? it felt as though you blinked, and glenn was gone. the man who took your father away called himself "negan." you tried to convince yourself that perhaps it was for the better, but negan bashing your father's head in suggested otherwise. and the screams, the cries, the tears — no matter what you did, they wouldn't go away. you felt utterly exhausted with life and everything around you. you had absolutely no motivation to even eat or get out of bed. in fact, you were still wearing the same clothes from the night it happened.
on top of that, you were currently curled up in a ball on your bed, laying on your side. you hadn't moved since you returned to alexandria, and it was so difficult because your mom was all the way at hilltop. rick, michonne, rosita, and even daryl had tried to reassure you that everything was going to be okay, but you knew it wasn’t — they were lying straight to your face. you had suddenly gotten the idea that hurting yourself would make you forget everything else, including the pain of losing your father.
but you still didn't move; it was as if your body was magnetically drawn to your bed. you just wanted to be left alone, but it was uncertain how long it would take before you could come out and pretend that everything was okay. your mother's screams echoed through your mind — the begging, the yelps. now, the two of you were separated after losing glenn. you felt as if you were still there, present when negan killed both abraham and glenn, emotionally tormenting you and everyone else. you were unable to let it go, despite your best efforts.
although your mind remained somewhat hazy, you could still make out the faint knocking at your door. you chose not to respond, assuming it was rosita or michonne, until you recognized a familiar voice. “sweetheart, it’s me,” you recognized the accent almost instantly; it was maggie. upon hearing her voice, you slowly rose and approached the door. as you opened it, your pale and tear-stained face was revealed to your mother. you could see the pain in her eyes as she looked at you, noticing that you were still wearing the same outfit from the night everything had happened.
recognizing the pain you both were experiencing, maggie pulled you into a tight embrace. sobs filled the room as you realized that all you needed was your mother. “i can’t do this anymore,” you choked back tears. maggie took a deep breath before pulling away from the hug and motioning for you to sit down on your bed. “i need you to know something, y/n,” she began to speak as she took a seat beside you. grasping your hands, she gazed into your eyes with love, yet the lingering pain in her expression only deepened your own sorrow. “he wouldn’t want to see us like this, okay? he needs his baby girl to be strong,” before she continued speaking, she gently tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear.
“he needs you to be strong too, mom,” you replied, your voice breaking increasingly with each word that escaped your lips. “i know, i’m trying. for him and for you,” she whispered while reaching into her pocket for something. in her hands was glenn’s pocket watch that hershel had given to him. “mom, i can’t-“ you started to speak, but her gentle voice interrupted you, “please, take it, sweetheart.” you slowly reached for it, taking it from your mother's hand. as you examined it, memories of you and your father began to flood your mind. from the first moment you met to the last time you ever saw him.
“we have to keep going, for him,” maggie spoke as she gently kissed you on the forehead. nodding in agreement, your eyes started to well up with tears. she grasped your hands once more, offering a reassuring smile. somehow, that was the only smile that conveyed a sense of reassurance — that she was being sincere. “we’re in this together, sweetheart. we’re going to be fine.”
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midnightfictionlibrary · 2 years ago
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Darlin' - Joel Miller x Reader
Joel Miller x Reader
Summary : Things have been awkward between you and Joel since he kissed you last night. A nickname slips from his lips, leaving you questioning how he feels about you.
Content : Kissing, pining, awkwardness, fluff, a bit of angst, Joel being kind of a simp, friends to lovers
Word Count : 1.1 k
A/N : Okay, this one is really cute and was very fun to write. lmk if you want to see more or have suggestions! As always, pls like and reblog if you enjoy <3333
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You sat awake, staring at the fire. The old dingy house creaked, and you should be sleeping, but all you could think about was him. You stoked the fire, then returned to the old, hole filled, plaid green couch in the house you, Joel, and Ellie were calling refuge from the raging thunderstorm outside. They were sound asleep upstairs, but you tossed and turned. 
Joel had kissed you last night, and it was all you could think about. You had harbored feelings for him since you met him, finally settling on easing into a friendship. But you were under the impression that that’s all you would ever be. 
You chewed your lip absentmindedly, the warm glow of the fire softening your features. You hear the stairs creak, and you turn, expecting to see Ellie. Sometimes she got up after a bad dream to come find you or Joel. But it wasn’t Ellie. It was Joel, groggy with sleep. The two of you had been sharing the double bed out of convenience, and you figured he must have awoken to find your side of the bed cold. 
“What’re you doin’ down here?” He whispered, his voice gruffer than usual, coated by sleep. He looked so much gentler like this, much different than his usual business persona during the day. 
“Couldn’t sleep.” You whisper, turning back to the fire. You hear Joel take the last few steps down the stairs, into the warm dome of light emanating from the fireplace. 
“That feels nice.” He says quietly, holding his hands out to the fireplace, then turns his body to look at you, sitting on the couch. His gray t-shirt stretched over his chest, fitting in all the curves of his shoulders that you secretly admired. You sat on the couch, knees drawn to your chest, hair tucked behind your ears. He bites his lips, seeming to hesitate before sitting next to you. Not too close, but not too far away, either. 
“ If you had a bad dream, darlin’, you could have woke me up.” He was being sincere, so very sweet. But you couldn’t focus on the sentiment, because your mind latched on to one single word he had uttered. 
Darlin’. 
He had never called you that. In fact, he had never called you anything other than your name, as long as you had known him. It was usually followed by a sigh, because you were the only one who challenged his self-appointed authority, but still. Pet names were not reserved for you. 
You shook your head absentmindedly. “Sometimes being alone is best. I didn’t have a bad dream. I just can’t sleep.” You reassured him, finally allowing yourself to look away from the glowing embers and at him. His hair was tousled, and you kept yourself from smiling softly at him. 
His brows knit together. “Is everythin’ alright?” He pauses before clearing his throat. “I mean, I noticed you haven’t slept at all, you have me worryin’.” He reached out, taking your hand and playing with your fingers slightly, his rough calloused ones seeming to draw life from your slender, soft ones. 
“You called me darlin’.” You paused, looking down at your linked fingers. “You kissed me. What changed?” You whispered, your eyes flitting up to meet his again. 
Joel looked almost embarrassed, glancing away from you. “I don’t know.” He says. 
You turn back towards the fire. You pull your hand back as well, and you can feel Joel’s eyes on you. 
“Maybe I shouldn’t have kissed you.” Joel clears his throat. “I’m sorry.” He runs a hand through his hair, tousling it more and making your heart pound in your chest. 
Well. That stung. “So you didn’t mean it?” You manage, still gazing at the fire before the two of you. 
“I…” he hesitates. 
This time, you didn’t answer. You were afraid that the tears may spill over if you uttered even a sound. You felt the weight of the couch shift as Joel kneeled in front of you, moving your legs slightly so he was sitting between them. You looked down at him, and he bit his lip before speaking. 
“I did mean it.” He whispers. You lean forward quickly, your faces inches apart, your face hovering above his. “You…make me feel like I haven't felt in a long time,darlin’. ”He says, an almost shy smile coaxing its way onto his face at the repetition of what he had called you earlier. You gaze down at him, wondering if you deserved to let yourself feel this way about someone else. His dark eyes captured yours, the look on his face gave you pause. You felt like he was worshiping you. He continued on, “When we first met, I pushed the way you made me feel away, ‘cause I thought it might be better just to have you near than risk somethin’ and ruin it. Last night when I kissed you, I just needed to know. What it felt like to do what I’ve been thinkin’ about since we first crossed paths.” 
You didn’t need to hear anymore, you closed the space between your lips, kissing him softly and slowly, hoping that he understood this as a reciprocation of your feelings. Having him between your legs, looking up at you, you felt nothing short of powerful. Your hands traveled lightly up his neck to tangle in his slightly curly hair, and you hear him catch his breath slightly. This makes you smirk, and you pull back, kissing lightly along his jawline. When you look at him again, his eyes are closed, a small smirk on his face. You peck his lips, and he opens his eyes to gaze at you again. 
You reach towards him and tug his shirt off, and he happily obliges. You go back to kissing him, nipping at his lower lip as his large hands roam up your thighs and up your shirt, making your cheeks flush with heat. His tongue begs for entrance and you grant it, leaning back as he raises himself off the ground to position himself next to you on the couch, yanking you into his lap. One arm encircles your waist and he pulls back, bringing one hand to lightly cup your chin. He absentmindedly rubs your jaw with his thumb, looking at you. 
“I have to tell you something.” You say, studying every line on his face. You kiss him once more, just because you know you can, and you feel him smile against your lips. 
You laugh against him. “I've wanted to do that since I met you, too.” 
This time, he stands up, kissing you as he carries you to the bed you’d been sharing. “Well, darlin’, I suppose we have to make up for lost time.” You laugh out loud, burying your face in his shoulder so as to not wake the sleeping Ellie. Joel smiles at you, ascending the stairs with all he’s ever wanted.
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fermentedfanfics · 2 years ago
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a little wine and charcoal.
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hello welcome to my first writing that wasn’t a rewrite in a while. i hope you guys enjoy this ?? i randomly thought of this idea at like three in the morning and wanted to write it so bad– so forgive me if this is a little all over the place or written badly because i finished writing this at like six am and wanted to post it immediately. i might make a sequel to this, i kinda wanna write some smut for them. please know that this fic is explicit and for 18+ audiences only, minors dni.
summary: you enjoy taking figure drawing classes at your local college a few times throughout the year– this month you take up figure drawing again and find you’ve caught the model’s eye. (model!loki x artist!f!reader)
warnings: (possible smut for future sequel) fem!reader, make out sesh, reader is a little drunk, more than a little she’s a lightweight like me, light praise kink, kind of dry humping, orgasm denial, slight dom/sub dynamic (reader calls loki sir,) no usage of y/n. i’ll add more if i think of anything. word count: 3.2k
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You are keenly aware of a pair of eyes on you, and you’re almost afraid to lift your gaze off the newsprint paper in front of you.
For a moment you wonder if you’re the only person who feels uncomfortable, but when you drag your gaze across the room you find everyone hard at work– focused on properly taking in the form of the man in front of you. Was he really a man though?
His ivory skin is chiseled like a marbled statue, and his thick, pitch-black hair was pulled back tucked behind his ears at the start of the class but has loosened and fallen into his face now. It’s given him a disheveled look and you’re rattled by how attractive he is. You’ve barely drawn anything, but you’re glad he’s not fully nude. Well– he is, but the way he’s posed has completely covered himself. You aren’t sure how you’d hold up if you were able to see him completely.
These figure drawing classes were supposed to be a source of relief for you. Twenty-five dollars and three hours of drawing live figures in silence with a couple of cups of wine was such a steal, and you’d truly enjoyed the last few times you’ve been– but the recent model has stolen that comfort from you.
At first you didn’t want to be conceded, clearly he was not staring at you directly. But the entirety of this month, each time you’d come and sit in that stuffy little classroom and painfully tried to draw the most beautiful being you’ve ever laid your eyes on, you could always feel him staring. It’s intensified by the wine you sip on throughout the class, your skin humming with the warmth of the alcohol and hot just from his mossy shaded eyes watching your every move.
Your hands delicately slip around the epicure of the glass next to you, it’s red and stinks of cheap wine but you drink it anyways to break the edge. Finally taking your eyes from the paper in front if you to the model, you swallow thickly when your eyes meet. You didn’t mean to look directly at his face, but curiosity got the best of you. Gripping the piece of charcoal in your hand, you begin to sketch.
You avert your stare from his face and to his body, and your mind wanders as your hand moves. Does he like your gaze? Observing every curve and rocky edge to his sculpted form– does it turn him on as much as it does you? You’d probably notice if it did. Each sip of the wine has your mind cloudy, and fills you with a kind of confidence you know isn’t good for you. Sneaking a peek to his face, you instantly regret it. His stare is intense, and the shine on his lips indicate he’s wet them with his tongue sometime between you taking your time studying every part of him and the last time you looked him in the eyes. You shiver.
The class wraps up faster than you expected. The conductor of the class brings the model a robe, and when he leaves the room bursts with conversation. “My god he was sexy, I couldn’t focus the entire time!” One of the women next to you boasts. Each class has a set of people who've never tried it before, or you’re simply just not lucky enough to get paired with anyone you’ve drawn with before. You feel seasoned among those around you, but you would be lying if you said the model hadn’t affected you in the same way.
You swallow the rest of the wine from your last glass, setting it down on the nearby tray it sat on. Trying to drown out the chattering and clattering of the class putting themselves together to leave, you try to pull an image of the model from your brain. You’ve seen him three or four times now, you didn’t keep count– each time you try to engrave him into your mind. You think this drawing is the closest you’ve ever gotten, fingers stained with charcoal. You decide to take this drawing home instead of leaving it like that last time.
By the time the room is empty, you’ve finished gathering your things. You take your time, knowing you have to call an uber since you finished about three cups of wine and you were a lightweight. Taking one last look at your drawing, you begin to take it down from the isle you used.
“I think yours is my favourite out of the bunch.”
His voice completely startles you, causing you to tear the top of the paper for a split second. You quickly stop yourself, letting go of your drawing allowing it to float helplessly to the ground so you wouldn’t completely destroy it. Instantly annoyed, your hazy, drunk gaze looks over your shoulder. It’s then you realize the class model is speaking to you.
He’s fully dressed, the first time you’ve seen it. It seems more intimate, you feel yourself burn hot at his voice as he apologizes, bending over and picking up your drawing. Smooth, sultry, and thickly accented– he’s rendered you speechless. “I always like the ones you draw– you’re very good.” He offers the paper to you.
“Thank you..”
You barely whisper your thanks, carefully taking the drawing from him. The rip doesn’t reach the art, thankfully. All your words are caught in your throat, he’s openly staring at you this time and you think he knows the effect he has on you. Swallowing your spit, you visibly relax ever so slightly as you begin to roll it up ready to leave.
“Do you come here often? I’ve seen you before.”
“Couple times a month.”
“Mr. Kilmyer let me keep some of yours of me, they’re hanging in my home. You’re incredibly talented– is this your profession?”
You’re trying to be respectful and listen to him, but you can’t. Your skin is boiling and the way the stupid cashmere turtleneck he wears fits him so perfectly that you can practically see his sculpted form beneath it is driving you up the wall. Though, that’s probably because you’ve seen him naked before and want to see it again. It’s fresh in your mind, and every time you blink you get a flash of his intense gaze. Wine plus him does not mix well.
“No.” You breathe out. He’s stepped closer, you’re in a full blown conversation with him now and you can see the quality of his face better. He has beautiful high cheekbones and strong brows giving him an intoxicating expression. His lips are thin and pink, you see he’s put chapstick on now. You wonder what it tastes like.
“It’s just a hobby. Um, thank you– I’m glad you like them.”
He cracks a smile, and your heart leaps so far into your throat you’re sure you can taste it. He seems to realize he hasn’t introduced himself, and offers you his hand. You’re delighted. “I am Loki, it’s a pleasure.” Your hand slips into his easily, a friendly shake sending electrifying shocks across your sensitive skin. You’re too drunk for this.
A little smile curls onto your lips, finally he thinks. You tell him your name, and he tastes it on his tongue for a moment, repeating it back to you.
He catches the slow blink of your eyelids, it’s late. You’re tired, and drunk– he can tell. He pulls his hand away and tucks a strand of his own hair behind his ear, drawing you in more. Does he know how sexy he is? You think he does. “I apologize, you must be tired. I don’t mean to take up your time, it’s just amazing to me how you’re able to master the human form in such a beautiful way.” His compliments give you a dopamine rush, your brain is fuzzy like the sizzling of a firecracker.
“I have to order an uber, so it’s okay..I have time.” You simply respond, he watched you drink those three glasses of wine.
Loki opens his mouth to say something, closing it as a thought come across his face. He sucks his lip in ever so slightly, biting it. He thinks for a moment, finger coming to his chin to caress it. His skin looks so soft and you’re instantly jealous of his own hand. Everytime you see him your mind floats away. Every single time he models, he’s fueled the bank in your mind to use late at night when you’re feeling lonely. You feel guilty a lot of the time, using a stranger to pleasure yourself– but you simply think of it as a one night stand. (That you keep going back to.)
You’ve imagined what it would be like to kiss his pretty lips, how it would feel and taste. You think he tastes like some kind of bourbon, and maybe caramel. A delicious mix. You especially enjoy remenecing on how he’d look at you while you drew him, how his mossy eyes bore deep into your soul and ignited a sexual flame in you faster than anyone ever had.
“Those can get quite pricey, hm?” He pauses, drawing your mind back to your conversation and away from your intrusively nasty thoughts about him. Loki rubs the side of his neck slightly, almost as if he’s embarrassed. “Well, I know we only just officially met– but I could drive you home if you’d rather save the money?”
His offer lingers in the air for a moment, before a surprised oh leaves you and your brows raise. Free ride from the pretty model that eats you up with his stare every single time you see him? Yes please!
“I would hate to bother you..”
“It’d be my pleasure, truly! I do feel a bit honoured talking with someone who views me in such a lovely perspective.”
You don’t fight again after that, a sheepish grin taking hold of your lips– you giggle. It’s heaven to his ears. “Sure.”
The walk to his car was short, but he continued to ask you questions– egging you to socialize with him. You wanted to just stare and eat up his features, engrave as much as you could of him into your brain because you’re sure this is the last time you’ll see him. You’re able to muster up questions to ask him, so you’re not such a boring chatting partner. He is giving you a ride home after all. Loki does not model often, but he did get roped into it after his brother suggested him. It’s relaxing for him, because he’s able to mentally check out for a few hours and not worry about anything– it’s nice.
You realize he may have just been spacing out in your direction and you’re deeply embarrassed that you came to the conclusion that he was equally staring at you. Loki opens the door of the passenger side for you, it’s amusing to your intoxicated little brain and you can’t help but laugh as you get into the car. “It feels like you walked out of a fairytale.”  You murmur.
“Never had a gentleman open the car door for you? Such a shame.” He tuts at whatever past relationships you’ve had, and you can feel your standards raising.
Your drunk limbs find immediate comfort in the seat of his car, relaxing and laying your head back. The car ride is peaceful, and he lets you roll your window down so you can feel the cold wintery air on your skin. I’m a fan of the cold. Loki simply stated when you worried over him becoming too chilled. The cold air feels good on your warm skin, you know you’re in for a good night sleep.
Loki comfortably chats with you the entire car ride to your home, giving him weak directions as you try not to drift to sleep. Is it weird you feel completely at ease, and safe, with a complete stranger? Yes. But so far, he hasn’t given you any reason to feel any other way. In reality you wanted to fall asleep in his arms, but his car would have to do.
Thankfully you’re able to keep yourself awake, and when he pulls into your driveway you raise your arms above your head to stretch. It’s a damn good stretch, a euphoric feeling rushing through your body as you feel your muscles contract. Loki delightfully takes in the rise of your shirt, the sliver of skin showing your belly before you plop your arms back into your lap. You’re eternally thankful to him.
Looking back over to Loki to thank him for the ride home, you’re unsettled by his deep stare on you. It makes your chest and head thump once more. “Thank you for driving me home, Mr. Loki..” You try to be respectful, but you’re only turning him on.
“Of course,” He hums, not sure if he wants to let you leave just yet.
You don’t think your night will go much further with Loki, your hopes are not high. But when you grab for the handle to open your car door, his warm hand is wrapping around your free one. “Y/N..” He starts, and the way Loki says your name is magical. It’s the first time, and you’re a little worried at how much of an effect it has on you. You shiver once more, gulping thickly. “Yes, sir?” Your voice wavers for a moment, and you can’t help your usage of sir. You do wish to be respectful to him afterall. Your usage of sir seems to break him, make him snap– Loki is quickly leaning over the console and caressing your face with his hands.
“May I kiss you, Y/N?”
“Yes, please.” Your response is quick, and his lips crashing into yours is quicker.
Your stomach explodes like fireworks feeling his lips on you, and the desperation that follows only makes the heat rising in your core burn brighter. His lips are much softer than you were expecting, coating your own in that chapstick you can now taste is strawberry. You moan after tasting it, and Loki takes this free time to work his tongue towards yours. His lips are sweet like strawberries, but his tongue and mouth is minty and the stark contrast makes your head spin.
Loki’s left hand is wrapped around the back of your neck, pulling you closer while his right hand cradles your face like you’d simply disappear if he let you go. The desperation in his kisses make your stomach twist in the familiar sense of need, want. Your hands have found his biceps to hold onto, fingers digging into the fabric of his pine-green cashmere turtleneck. “You taste so divine.” He breathes into you, devouring the whimpers and moans that float from your throat with every kiss.
Each compliment he spews is another match thrown into the fire thats on your skin. Your head is indescribably fuzzy, and you feel like you’re going to pass out. But it’s good. It’s so, so good. You might doubt this to be a dream later on.
The hand on your face is exploring you now, and it doubles all of what your feeling. His hand slides to your hip, rubbing circles into the fabric of your shirt. It’s overstimulating at best, and turning you on even more. You instinctively rub his biceps, feeling his muscles underneath. Loki drags his hand down your thigh, rubbing and caressing just the same as you are to his biceps. It’s stimulating the heat growing in your pants but it’s not enough and when you buck your hips ever so slightly all thoughts are thrown out the window.
Loki’s hand palms your clothed cunt, ripping a ragged groan from the back of your throat. He hasn’t even moved yet and you feel like you’re about to melt, about to cum. Please, please, please, please. Your tortured voice peeps into his mouth as he bites your lip. You spur him on without even trying too hard. Slowly, but with pressure, Loki begins to rub his fingers and thumb up and down the length of your cunt.
You hiss, and before you can moan out his kisses are occupying you once more. His tongue barrages your crevices once again, exploring your tongue, teeth, roof of your mouth– anything he can. “So good for me, good girl.” He moans praises, and you echo his vocal pleasure with your own. Thank you Mr. Loki, please! Feels so good, sir.. Your groan hitches when his thumb glides over your clit through your jeans and panties– he’s instantly dragging his thumb across the area. It shocks you like a voltage, your body tensing in utter glee as it begins to climb for it’s release.
Please, sir! You gasp as his simple drags of up and down have turned into calculated wiggles and zigzags that have you keening. Your skin is burning, and you’re so close. So, so close. He can tell by your breathing, your gasping between kisses– it’s so cute. Just as you’re about to reach your climax, just as your about to cum Loki seamlessly removes his hand from your warm, wet clothed cunt and grabs the side of your face in a deep kiss.
You finally tap his biceps, and he releases you from the passionate, breath-stealing kiss he pulled you into. You’re gasping for air, trying to ignore the wetness of your panties and dull ache coming from your hole. 
Loki catches you slightly as you slump, head far too heavy for you to hold up now. He remembers you’re drunk, and a giddy smile comes to his features. “Oh dear, I ‘ought to get you inside, yes?” He’s so sweet again, like he hadn’t just stolen your soul and heart with those kisses. If you weren’t so drunk you’d be pissed.
Scratch that– you are pissed. Your body is screaming for release, and you know you’re going to be too tired to rub one out once you’re inside your home. But Loki looks so mesmerized by you, so encaptured.
A small line of drool has dripped from the corner of your mouth, and tears have streaked your cheeks– your eyes still welling from lack of release. “Oh, princess..” He murmurs, kissing your cheeks where your tears roll down from.
Without another word, Loki gently releases you to rest against your car seat before exiting the car and making his way around. He opens the door for you, and helps you get out of the car. Your legs are wobbling, like a new-born deer. You want to throw yourself against him, beg him to come inside and finish what he started but you’re too tired. You’re too exhausted, and it’s hard keeping your eyes open. Perhaps it’s best the two of you stopped here.
He escorts you to the front door of your house, and places a loving kiss on your forehead and lips. He watches you fumble to open your door and get inside, bidding you a goodnight before heading back to his car.
You’re still buzzing with excitement by the time you crawl in bed, your bag and rolled up drawing laying haphazardly on your desk. You want to cry, weep even. You’re unbelievably horny and he simply just left you like that– although you want to keep thinking about how much he screwed you over and how much you’re going to pounce him the next time you see him, sleep has taken over.
You fall asleep with Loki on your mind, and a determined mind for next time.
Next time.
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ctrnewrites · 1 year ago
Text
little moments (steve harrington)
hiii :3, im getting back into the passion of writing. and honestly posting to a little moth in the corner of the internet is worth it if i can reignite a passion. here is a little piece i cooked up
summary: a collection of moments throughout the day that make steve appreciate the little moments, (doesn't really follow any form of timeline, it's just assumed that the upside down probably happened, s2-s3 era steve) (fem reader)
wc: 1,150
The sheer curtain couldn’t completely hide the light from the sun shining into the room. Two bodies stir under the soft duvet of a queen-sized bed. Steve is the one to wake first, staring down at the head of his girlfriend. A head that’s tucked into his chest, nuzzled against his warmth. His gaze was full of nothing but love and admiration. Steve placed a soft kiss on her head, his hand playing with hers that was left resting on his chest. Steve admired times like these. Soft, quiet moments that seem small in meaning but are incredibly valued. Within a short span of a few minutes, his lover awoke. Looking up at the brown-haired boy and chuckling softly. Whispering a soft “good morning lovely”.
“Mornin’ sweetness.” He whispered in return. “Sleep well?” Steve asked her, brushing a stray strand of hair out of her face.
“Always the best with you,” (Y/n) smiled, sitting up to give a peck to the corner of his mouth. “Lazy day today?”
“What day is it?” He countered, just to make sure.
“Uhm, Saturday.” She squinted at the small calendar across his room. “No work, unknown status on the goobers though.” She joked.
“Indeed. Well let’s just enjoy at least our morning together.” He smiled at her, returning the previous peck to her nose.
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The couple were still in their pajamas as they traversed the kitchen. Picking up leftovers from breakfast and placing dishes in the sink to be washed. As Steve placed the leftovers in the fridge, (y/n) started the task of wiping down the countertops and the table where they ate. “You always make the best pancakes ever baby.” Steve called out to her.
“It’s just a little extra cinnamon and vanilla extract. I keep telling you, yet you insist on me making them.” (Y/n) rolled her eyes and went to the kitchen sink to ring out the old rag she used. Then starting the chore of washing the dishes.
“But they aren’t the same.” He sighed, going up behind her to wrap his arms around her waist. “Yours are always special when you make them.” Steve placed a kiss on her cheek, staying in his position of being wrapped around his girlfriend.
“If you say so Stevie.” She giggled, finishing up the last dish of the minor mess they made. The other cleaned dishes on a drying rack next to the sink.
There usually weren’t many dishes to be done throughout the day. Considering Steve’s parents were typically away on some business venture, Steve has been the only one around. Keeping (Y/n) and the kids around for company. But with them, it usually wasn’t so bad.
---------------------------------------------------
“Boo, it’s raining.” (Y/n)’s voice reverberated throughout the living room. Her eyes were glued to the window that faced the street; curtains drawn to bring in whatever natural light it could. “I wanted to have a picnic.”
“We could still have a picnic, just indoors.” Steve suggested, standing next to her, looking at the downpour.
“It’s more fun when it’s outside.” She raised her brows towards her lover.
“Baby we can’t go outside, you’ll get sick.” He gave her a stern ‘are you serious?’ look.
“That’s such a myth. I go outside in the rain all the time and I’ve ended up perfectly fine.” She turned to face him. “Especially after I take a nice warm bath, it basically reverses the cold.”
“I don’t think that’s how it works.” He rolled his eyes. Glancing between the girl and the torrential downpour outside.
“That is so how it works.” (Y/n) giggled at him as she toyed with the sleeves of the sweater she was wearing. It was his very own bright yellow sweater. Steve always thought the sweater looked better on her. But every time he voiced his opinion, (Y/n) fired back that yellow was definitely not her color. Regardless of how often she stole the sweater to sleep or just hang out in.
Steve knew she would get her way. They would end up going outside without the appropriate clothes for the September rain. The yellow sweater was discarded on a recliner in the living room as (Y/n) ran to the French doors leading out to the backyard in her tank and jeans. She looked Steve dead in the eye as she took a step out of the doors and onto the patio. Immediately getting drenched with the rain. Steve saw her bright smile as she spun underneath the dark sky. He decided he had no choice but to join her, stepping outside with his blue T-shirt and denim.
“You know I love you right?” He says to her over the sound of rain echoing around them.
“I am forever grateful that you do. And I love you too.” (Y/n) pulled him close, standing on her tip toes and giving him a kiss on the nose.
Steve started to sway to an imaginary song, bringing (Y/n) in to dance with him. Enjoying the feel of the rain as they danced. A sway, a spin, a lean, and finally he pulled her in closer, finally landing a normal kiss on her lips. His hands moved to her cheeks as her arms went around his neck. The rain continued around them, but it felt as if they froze in time. Out of breath, foreheads touching as they took in the moment. It was peaceful, serene, but also cold and wet.
“We should probably go inside.” She suggested, feeling a chill go down her spine.
“I told you so.” He captured her lips in a quick kiss once more. “I’ll go run us a bath. Bubbles included.”
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After the bath and a new set of clean clothes, the two returned to the living room once again. The rain continued outside while they just laid on the couch, enjoying each other’s company and touch. It was moments like this that were truly cherished. No need for elaborate dates or crazy activities when all they needed was each other.
“I think I could stay like this forever Stevie.” (Y/n) sighed happily, nuzzling into his chest.
“Me too, sweetness.” Steve returned the sentiment. Playing with her hair as she laid her head on him. “I love you. So much more than you can imagine.” He said softly.
“I love you even more.” She smiled, gently closing her eyes to let sleep take over her for an afternoon nap.
He watched her lull to sleep, still holding onto her. Steve never felt stability like he did before (Y/n). It was a welcome feeling. One he would hold onto forever. It truly was moments like these where he was able to sit back and appreciate the cards that life dealt him. His thoughts slowly calmed down, finally succumbing to the same fate and falling asleep on the couch in the living room. Nothing to disturb the peace of the couple.
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mamawasatesttube · 1 year ago
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"you're a terrible liar" for fic prompts?
vaguely set after this ficlet but should stand alone!
Hours after the battle is over, when the dust has settled and the injured have been tended to, when the night has drawn on so late that it's circled back around to daybreak, Kon finally gets a few minutes to breathe.
Weariness settles deep into his bones. The fighting was exhausting enough—it'll never be easy, dealing with fuckin' Superboy Prime—but even after that was over, there was the cleanup. So much destruction wrought in so little time... he's going to crawl into bed and close his eyes and dream of TTKing people safely out of collapsed buildings. He knows it.
Still better than dreaming of the ones he couldn't save, though.
But now it's over. And that means he can finally, finally go find his fiancé and rest.
Tim's heartbeat, faithful as ever, leads him to a quiet hallway in the hectic hustle and bustle of the field shelter and hospital. Tim's holed up in one of the makeshift bedrooms here; he's not asleep, though, so Kon has no qualms simply opening the door and letting himself in.
The door clicks shut behind him. Sunlight streams in through open curtains; Tim is sitting on the air mattress on the floor, knees tucked to his chest. His head whips up the second Kon enters the room, and for a moment, he just stares, his eyes wide and his heart beating faster, like he can't quite comprehend what he's seeing.
Kon holds out his arms slightly, exhausted. Being near Tim means he's home. "...Hey."
The spell breaks. Tim scrambles to his feet and flies into Kon's chest, throwing his arms around his shoulders and holding on tight. His breath shudders through his body; he buries his face in Kon's collarbone and clings to him like a lifeline.
"You're okay," he whispers. Kon knows it's more to himself than anything; he has to convince himself that he can relax, that it's really over. That Prime didn't take Kon from him again. "You're okay."
"I'm okay," Kon agrees softly. He bows his head, presses his lips to Tim's hair, and lets out a deep sigh, weary and content. He's in Tim's arms—he's home.
Tim loosens his grip, his hands running down Kon's back to circle his hips, then back up to his chest. "You're not hurt? You're—did he hurt you?"
"Nothing major," Kon promises, catching those wandering hands in his own. He rubs his thumbs over Tim's knuckles, leans in, brushes a kiss to his brow, his chest aching with tenderness. "Buncha bruises, some scrapes, but nothing major. I'm okay, sunshine."
Tim stares up at him for several seconds, searching his face for any omission. When he finds none, a little of the tension melts away from his shoulders. Kon smiles at him softly, drawing him back into his arms; Tim leans into him, arms wound snug around his waist.
"What're you doing holed up back here?" Kon asks, after a moment. "Wait, don't tell me, lemme guess. You were helping Oracle coordinate relief efforts, but you were too antsy and freaked out and she got fed up with you and told you to go take a nap, but you were too wired to actually sleep, so you've been stuck here pacing a hole in the floor. Am I right?"
Tim makes a tiny noise that, on any other day, would probably be more indignant than the huffy little peep it is. "I'm fine."
Kon snorts, running his hand up his back into his hair. "You're a terrible liar, babe."
That makes Tim's head snap up. He gives Kon a dirty look, clearly offended—while still clinging to him, of course—and wrinkles his nose like an annoyed bunny. "I'm literally not. You are. I'm literally the best liar you know!"
Kon can't help it. He kisses him.
Tim melts instantly, warm and pliant in Kon's embrace. He kisses back desperately, his body belying all the anxiety and terror Kon knows have been drowning him since they last saw each other hours ago; Kon wraps his TTK around him, too, strokes his shoulders and caresses his hair and presses tiny telekinetic kisses all over his back.
"See?" Kon kisses him again, tender as can be. "Terrible liar. You've been a wreck." Another kiss. "Mm..." What was he going to say, again? He kind of forgot, what with all the euphoria of kissing his Tim. Uh... oh, yeah! Right. He nuzzles Tim's nose, leaning their foreheads together, and smiles down at him, exhausted and achy and so, so content. "I'm tired. Nap with me?"
Tim cups his cheek in one callused hand. He gazes up at Kon with so much unbridled adoration that Kon can't quite handle it; his cheeks grow warm every time Tim looks at him like this, even now.
"Of course I will," Tim says. He kisses the corner of Kon's mouth, then admits, as if it's some sort of secret, "I'm pretty tired, too."
Kon scoops him up and carries him over to the air mattress. Tim, more than accustomed to being Kon's favorite ragdoll by now, simply snuggles into his chest with a tiny smile. Kon doesn't miss the way he rests his hand over his heart.
"Hey," he murmurs, brushing his lips to Tim's brow. "I'm here. We're okay."
Tim lets out a slow breath. "Yeah," he says; Kon knows he's not lying this time. "I know we are."
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