#this drifted off into being kinda funny

[sweetest-honeybee]

whats that ? hes been alive for centuries ? nah thats just the coffee and spite keeping him alive , no way hes a cryptic

oh ? the sun hurts him ? uhm thats just a ,, severe sunray reaction ! yeah ! that can happen right ?

( im having so much fun thinking of this au can you tell )

It’s so fun, I need to get tag going for it 😂 But god Frank just being that fuckin oblivious is my new favorite thing ever. Like so suspicious of everyone else that he doesn’t consider that he’s got any strange habits that would suggest anything about himself because I mean, who would know Frank better than Frank? Surely there’s nothing he could’ve possibly missed

[keeps-ache]

mm i Neeed to go the beach

[reformedmercymain]

I have no desire to put this person on blast but my god it really shows when people didn’t play high elo overwatch pre role lock (not to mention how hard it was to have a completely stagnant meta for pro teams who weren’t the kings of it like titans and shock, which I wouldn’t bring up unless this person wasn’t mainly talking about OWL, which they were)

[urhoneycombwitch]

I know what they call you.

Eddie Munson x shy!Reader You’re a little lost in your head. Eddie wants to find you.

foreword: The healing properties of good head <333 Anyways I labeled this R “shy” but she’s more… introverted? Reserved? this one goes out to the weird and off-putting girlies who have a lot to say but are kinda quiet instead. Timeline may be a bit wibbly but designed it to be early 4th-season era, with R (early 20s) having played an undetermined part in the various Upside Down battles from seasons previous. Loosely based on this anon every1 say thank you anon!

cw: alcohol/weed used as a social crutch, R is hassled by a guy at a party (but her boys back her up), brief vomit mention, implied bad home life for R, light SH by way of tight grip, PTSD, R has breasts+V, praise kink, oral (R receiving), one (1) spank, multiple orgasms (R), soft dom!eddie, overstim, coming in pants (E)

wc: 11k

___

It’s spring break, 1986, and you’re cursing the name of your so-called “best friend” Robin Buckley.

You didn’t even want to go to this stupid kegger in the first place, arguing with her the whole ride over from Steve’s backseat.

“Don’t you think it’s totally lame that you’re basically being chaperoned by two gap-year losers?” you’d said, leaning forward to rest your elbows on the console, seatbelt pulling taut across your Rolling Stones tee. “You’re a big girl, Robin, you don’t need Steve and me to babysit you anymore.”

Robin began protesting but Steve interrupted, tapping at your forearms without looking away from the road- “Sit back, wouldja, that’s not safe. And for the record, it’d only be lame if we were, like, thirty and still going to high school kickbacks. Gap-year drinking parties are a rite of passage.”

You’d sat back against your seat with a huff, arms crossed, unconvinced until Robin turned those big pleading eyes your way over the back of her seat. “You wanna talk about lame? Lame is me getting anywhere within a 60-foot radius of Vickie. I am totally hopeless around that absolute beauty.”

She’d twisted in her seat and reached for your hand, and you gave it to her grudgingly (the two of you ignoring another of Steve’s gripe about vehicular safety) as she said, “You’re like, the best wingwoman I’ve ever met. Please come to the party and help me avoid the natural disaster that is me running my mouth.”

Robin wasn’t just being generous- you were a killer third wheel. Especially when alcohol was involved: the walls that you naturally upheld around your introverted demeanor by day turned liquid as whiskey by night, often scoring you major cool points with your friends for things you barely remembered doing the day after. 

So you’d relented, and in turn resolved to get as drunk as possible as quickly as possible (in the name of Robin’s aid, of course), but turns out your best friend didn’t even need your help in the first place; within 5 minutes of setting foot in the crammed house party Robin won a spot right next to Vickie on the living room couch, starry-eyed gaze saved only for the redhead that bore no room for your intervention.

Three shots ago, the situation would have struck you as funny, but it’s been a lonely time (what with Steve abandoning you, too, in favor of chatting up some college blonde); drifting from packed room to packed room, sneakers sticking to the floorboards, winding through throngs of sweaty dancing students just to keep on top of your alcohol consumption.

Kind of like hunting in the wild, you muse, leaned against a wall with red solo cup in hand. Flirt with Amy Thacker and her low-cut blouse to access the watering hole (Mystery Punch, green both in color and flavor); let Lenny Baker put his paws on your waist to gain entry to the standing liquor cabinet. The stuff of nature docs.

If this dimly-lit Hawkins party is the savanna, then you are the antelope- grazing on snacks, never staying in one spot for too long, minding your own business and staying way the hell away from the lion’s den (the group of jocks in Hawkins Tigers polos).

Unfortunately, you push off the wall in search of a refill at the same time Lenny Baker decides to sidle up to you, nearly knocking the cup from your grasp when he bends his thick head to shout in your ear above the music. 

“Great party, right?” His arms are crossed above his tank of a chest, blocking you from a smooth exit via the kitchen archway.

“If you’re into drunk teens, I guess,” you say back, pointedly, licking a stripe up your wrist from where the punch had sloshed onto your bare arm. 

When you look back up Lenny’s still standing there, watching you with a hungry edge that’s starting to make your well-honed antelope-sense tingle. As you not-so-subtly cast your glance around for Steve, Lenny leans in again, close enough to give you a sour whiff of his breath. “I’m legal, if that’s what’s got your panties in a twist. And what’s wrong with having some fun?”

“I’m not into having fun with douchebags who ‘roid away their remaining brain cells to bully my friends,” you retort, flatly. You doubt this guy knows you’re connected to the Hellfire group (de facto sitter, second only to Steve), but the insult seems to land anyways. 

Lenny scoffs, going for a low blow to offset the sting of his bruised ego- “If you’re trying to play the part of slut, you were doing a way better job earlier.”

What the meathead hasn’t picked up on yet is your absolute lack of care about him- or anyone else at this stupid fucking party, for that matter. Besides Robin and Steve, obviously, but they’re equally indisposed at the moment. You’re feeling bold enough that you could play dirty: throw the dregs of your drink in his face, make a real scene- but the shots from earlier are hitting you sideways and you’re not entirely confident in your ability to multitask. 

So instead, with a wink, you tell him, “At least this slut knows when to quit,” and turn on your heel, abandoning the kitchen escape route for a closer door that leads to the back porch.

You suck in lungfuls of cool night air, trying to clear the fuzz of booze from your vision. When you don’t hear any angry footsteps following in your wake, you sink against the wooden bannister and tip back the last of your drink in one swallow. Maybe Steve doubled back to the car…?

With your empty cup left neatly on the railing, you set off down the couple of steps that separate you from the grass, except the toe of your shoe catches on a hidden groove in the wood, and nothing is within reach to grab onto as you trip and begin to fall.

The stumble should have ended with you facedown in the dirt, but something- someone- solid breaks your downward path, catching the upper half of your body in a sturdy hold even as your legs twist around themselves.

“Whoa, whoa, hey, I gotcha. You okay?”

The voice is instantly familiar, one that you’ve heard ringing out from underneath the drama room door on countless occasions as you’ve waited on your various child wards to wrap up their D&D sessions.

Eddie Munson is holding you in his leather-clad arms, larger than life with that big cloud of hair and doe-eyed gaze matching yours. He helps you stand, properly, dropping his hands once you’re stabilized and taking the warmth of his palms with him. 

“You okay?” he asks again, tilting his head, looking at you with fresh concern from under that mop of bangs. “Looks like you had a lot to drink.”

“Thanks, Dad,” you drawl, bravado flooding back in. “Am I really gonna get a fucking lecture on drinking from my local drug dealer?”

Instead of rising to the bait or bristling at your tone, Eddie grins- delighted, wolfish- before letting out a low whistle. “Who coulda guessed: resident Shy Girl has a mouth on her.”

You twist said mouth into your own smile, one that you hope is coy and charming and not dorkily lopsided (because you stopped being able to feel your face after that last drink), and coo, “You thinkin’ about my mouth, Munson?”

He laughs- a full, vibrant sound that lights up the night. There’s a flutter in your ribcage, knocking up a frenzy at the noise, like it wants to get out and at him, but you tamp it down and play it cool.

“You’ve only seen me in the cold, unforgiving light of day,” you continue, as Eddie rifles through his pockets, surfacing with a pack of cigs, eye contact yet to be broken. “My nighttime alter ego is a real riot, all liquored up.”

“Well, I happen to think you’re a riot in the sober light of day, too.” Eddie shrugs a shoulder as he flips the lid of the cigarette box.

You’re unsure if he’s messing with you- he’s gotta be, right? The only meaningful interaction you two have had in the past handful of years has been through the courtesy of the children in your respective care- a few surface-level conversations during carpool pickup, some flirting on his end that you’ve always been too skittish to return. 

Well, until now, you guess. Maybe this is a good thing, him seeing you like this- it’ll either scare him away, or you’ll finally make good on the quiet crush you’ve been harboring.

You’re about to speak again when the porch door opens with a bang; you and Eddie swivel at the same time to see Lenny clomping noisily towards the steps, voice booming out over the thrum of bass back inside- “This freak bothering you?”

You look between the metalhead and the jock, eyes wide and mocking as you call back, “No, but you’re starting to!”

“Jesus, talk about poking the bear,” you hear Eddie mutter behind you, but your focus is taken up by the fact that Lenny is tromping down the steps and reaching out to grab your upper arm, his cold and clammy palm taking up a sizeable amount of space.

You can feel that rage, simmering and easily accessed, start to crawl over your skin. You stand your ground in the face of someone much larger than you, sneakers planted firmly, chin tilted in defiance- I’ve killed monsters in alternate dimensions, asswipe. You might’ve scared me back in high school but now I dare you to fuck with me. 

Before Eddie can jump to your defense, you’re already going in for the bite, voice dripping with derisiveness. “So glad your right hand found its way off your dick for a change, Len. How about you do me one better and take it far, far away from here?”

Lenny’s face is almost purple with anger as his grip tightens, and you feel Eddie moving in at your back- to do what exactly, hard to say, ‘cuz Lenny’s got about 60 pounds on the lanky DM- but just as fast as the tension has ramped up, it gets diffused with the arrival of one Steve Harrington from around the corner of the house.

He cuts a smooth path through the grass to your other side, Robin’s sweater slung over one arm, twirling his car keys in neat loops around his finger, boasting a casual demeanor that doesn’t match up with the steely look he’s giving Lenny. “You heard the girl, Baker. Time to am-scray.”

Whether it’s the rumors of Steve’s nail bat or the manic look in your eyes or the fact that he’s outnumbered, Lenny’s got plenty of reason now to drop your arm. 

Which he does, spitting one last “bitch” at you before hulking off into the night.

The anger in you recedes like a wave. You breathe out a dry laugh, then turn back to the boys, clasping your hands over your heart with faux-dopeyness. “My heroes. How will I ever repay you?”

“Shutting up, for a change, would be a great start,” Steve grouses over the sound of Eddie’s cackles.

“Holy shit. Can’t believe your girl’s feistiness almost landed me in the hospital.” Eddie shakes his head, plucking a cigarette out and sticking it between his plush lips.

“She’s not my girl,” Steve says, even as you wind your arms around his chest from behind, tucking your chin over his shoulder. “She is, unfortunately, my problem.”

“I love when you two talk about me like I’m not here.” You simper at Eddie from your draped position.

He’s watching you with a fondness that feels overly familiar, through the haze of smoke streaming from his nostrils as you pat the chest beneath your hands- “Don’t worry about ol’ Stevie boy. He’s turned into quite the good guard dog after the whole Russian mall takeover last year.”

“Aaaaand that’s enough talking from you,” Steve says firmly, twisting out of your arms and putting his own around your waist. “Say goodbye to your new buddy, we’ve got a Robin to collect.”

As Steve steers you towards the direction of his car you wave at Eddie, a motion that he returns, his rings glinting in the porch light.

“Christ, you really are somethin’ else with some drinks in you,'' Steve fusses, helping you into the backseat, hand shooting up to block the door frame before your head can collide with the metal. “Did you seriously have to bring up the Russians?”

“He probably thought it was a joke, Steve,” you say, exasperated and fighting the twisted middle seatbelt with uncoordinated hands. “You know… those things that you tell people when you wanna get in their pants?”

The crack was aimed at Steve’s recent string of strike-outs in the dating department, but he throws it back at you. “You’re trying to get in Eddie Munson’s pants?”

“No,” you sputter, indignant and feeling suddenly too hot. 

Steve knocks your still-struggling hands from the belt, clicking you in himself, before pointing an accusatory finger in your face. “Stay here while I get Robin, and no throwing up in the Beemer.”

He shuts the door, Robin’s sweatshirt hanging from one shoulder while he stalks back into the house. 

You let your head fall back against the seat and close your eyes, bright cherry embers of cigarettes between lush-lipped curves dancing behind the dark of your lids. 

___

You manage to avoid throwing up in the BMW, saving the worst of it for the downstairs toilet of the Harrington house after Steve drags you and Robin indoors. Once your body is purged of the spirits, you collapse into your usual side of the guest bed, sweaty and exhausted, murmuring an apology to Robin who squeaks at the rocking movement of the mattress. In a few minutes, you’re lulled to sleep by the gentle snores of your best friend.

The morning sun is a very rude awakening, Robin apparently having forgotten to close the blinds before leaving with Steve for their shifts at Family Video. There’s a full glass of water on the bedside table and a few loose Tylenol tablets, the word “DRINK” sprawled on a sticky note in Steve’s handwriting.

You wince, down the meds along with half the water, and start the search for your sneakers.

When you’d signed up to protect a bunch of teens at the end of the world awhile back, it had seemed like a one-time gig. But now, here you were a few years later, loading yourself into your curb-parked junker to willingly cart around the same kids.

While wearing yesterday’s clothes. Even with the sprays of cologne that you’d stolen from Steve’s dresser, you’re pretty sure you’ll be fooling no one.

Evidenced by your first stop in east Hawkins for Dustin Henderson, who clambers into the front seat with a scathing appraisal. “Rough night?”

“You could say that,” you reply, shifting the gear to drive and grimacing at the subsequent squeal of metal that pierces into your left temple. “Learn from my mistakes as a washed-up twenty-something and cool it on the teen drinking, all right?”

“Washed up though you may be,” Dustin intones sagely, digging through his backpack and producing two brown-paper bundles, “you are now one Claudia Henderson Breakfast Sandwich Deluxe richer.”

You take the proffered sandwich gratefully, steering with one hand to peel back the oil-stained paper from the still-warm bread. “God. Is your mom looking to adopt?”

“She’s kind of got the perfect child already, but I’ll keep my ear to the ground for ya,” Dustin says around a mouthful of cheese and egg.

The solid breakfast helps your stomach ease back into a place of normality, but with your next stop adding two more kids to the mix, the rowdy bickering that follows puts that Tylenol to work.

“You’re an idiot,” Max is saying to Lucas over the sound of his indignation in the back seat. “You seriously think Indiana Jones would win against Supergirl? She can shapeshift, and she has heat vision.”

“All I’m saying is, it’s really hard to see a whip coming.” Lucas is stretching the limits of his seatbelt in his earnestness to get his girlfriend on his side.

It doesn’t work- Max rolls her eyes and taps at your shoulder. “Help me out here. His logic is totally shit, right?”

Making a turn onto the main road, you nod your assent without looking back. “I think you should listen to your very smart girlfriend, Lucas.”

Max makes a triumphant “hah”, and Dustin adds fuel to the argument’s fire when he drags in some other comic book character that you’ve never heard of. 

You hazard a glance in your rear-view mirror at Max, who’s too busy dishing out an enthusiastic rebuttal to notice. Her auburn braids swing with the movement of the car, and you wonder if they were done by her mother before work or if Max had to rely on her own hair expertise again. 

You’ve got a real soft spot for Max, always have. While you both have plenty of cause to bond over shitty home lives, it’s also Max’s brash and defiant attitude that drew you to her. She’s got the bravery you can only hope for, something that you are sure to tell her frequently, even though the compliment is hard for her to take.

You score a parking spot that’s right in front of the arcade, calling after the kids already scrambling out of your car that you want to leave at noon, sharp. They all give some form of distracted acknowledgement before disappearing into the building, so you figure the earliest you'll be getting out of here is noon-thirty. 

Not like you have much to do today, anyways, besides bother Steve and Robin at work- since the arcade is conveniently located right next to Family Video, it’s a perfect excuse to wait out the kids’ spring break activities in the company of your nearest and dearest.

You’re cutting a swift track up the sidewalk when you nearly collide with Eddie Munson, for the second time in less than 24 hours.

“Hey!” He beams at you, a wide, easy thing that fits on his face so well, like it was made to be there, boyish dimples digging in. “Long time no see.”

“Yeah,” you agree, trying to smile back but probably landing somewhere in the grimace region as memories of last night float to the forefront of your mind. Small talk. You can do it. Say something. “Um. Were you getting a movie?”

“Nah.” Eddie shakes his head, hooks a thumb at the Family Video doors behind himself. “Keith’s one of my regulars. That guy might actually smoke more weed than me.”

You hum mildly to show you’re still paying attention but really you’re looking at Eddie’s hair, dark curls that shift with each of his movements. His hair isn’t black, like you’ve been led to believe this whole time- with the morning light shining through, highlighting the halo frizz around the edges, it’s actually a deep, chocolatey brown.

Similar to his eyes. Which are trained on you. Because you haven’t talked in a weird amount of time and are now just openly ogling his hair. 

Before you can open your mouth to apologize Eddie asks, “You wanna smoke?”

You nod, perhaps a tad too enthusiastically, and then stretch on your tiptoes to peer around Eddie’s frame at the Family Video sign. “Yeah, but we gotta be fast unless you want the Wonder Twins joining us.”

His grin slips into a smirk, and he winks before taking your hand in his. “A quickie, then.”

That fluttering thing in your ribs is back. The metal of Eddie’s rings are cool against your palm as he leads you around the side of the building, dropping your hand once you both are leaned up against the red brick.

Trying not to outright stare again, you watch from the fringes of your vision as Eddie lights up and breathes a cloud of smoke into the air. His nails are painted black- they weren’t last night. An image of him- hunched over a kitchen table, tongue sticking out of those pillowy lips in concentration, a nail polish brush held in his long fingers- flits across your mind.

Eddie holds the cigarette out, filter-side towards you, and you shake your head lightly. “No thanks. I don’t actually smoke, I just wanted to talk to you.”

Eddie glows. Before he gets the wrong idea you start explaining, arms crossing tight over your chest in unconscious defense- “I wanted to talk about last night. And say I’m sorry. I’m not usually so…”

“Badass? Charming? Hot?” Eddie fills in when you trail off, taking in another deep drag of smoke. 

Christ. You feel heat rushing from head to toe as you ward off his flattery, nails nipping into your upper arms. “I was gonna say… talkative? I guess? I’m normally not one to pick fights, but Lenny was being a dick and I don’t like the way he treats the kids, or you, for that matter, and I was drunk and mouthy but that’s not an excuse to drag you into it and I’m sorry-”

“Hey, hey.” Eddie’s tone is soothing, low, cutting smoothly into your feverish confession. He reaches out and strokes the back of his knuckle across your hand, tiny half-moons from your nails leaving their impression as you soften your grasp on yourself.

He doesn’t seem to mind that you can’t look anywhere but at your sneakers planted in the gravel as he says, “You have nothing to apologize for, sweetheart. I’m a big boy, I can handle myself when it comes to dickwads like Lenny Baker. And I would say that rescuing fair maidens is part of my job description, but…”

Eddie stubs the half-smoked cigarette out against the brick, flicks it to the ground, and waits until you look up at him again before saying “You don’t seem like you’re in need of any saving.”

That flutter, again, as you hold his eye contact for as long as you can stand it. 

The corner of his mouth quirks up. “There she is.”

Mortified, you resist the urge to scream into your hands as you push off from the brick, instead squeezing them into fists at your sides. “Oh-kay. Well. I better head inside or Robin will send out the search party for me.”

Eddie lets you walk past him, but just before you turn the corner he says, “I’m across from the Mayfields in Forest Hills if you ever want some company. Or some good weed.”

Footfalls from his thick-heeled boots recede into the distance, and you take a minute to calm your breathing before pushing your way through the doors of Family Video.

Steve’s stocking a shelf of New Releases at the front of the store, vest-clad torso faced away as the bell above the door signals your entrance. On autopilot he monologues, “Welcome to Family Video, let us know how we can be of service.”

“Aw, I miss the days when you were forced to say Ahoy, mateys!” You tease, Steve turning to give you an irritated frown as you prop your hip against the register counter.

Robin clacks away on the computer, hitting the Enter key a little harder than necessary as she says, “You’re about one mall fire and a bajillion NDA’s too late to ever hear that shit again.”

Keith must be lurking around in the back office, ‘cuz the three of you only refer to last year’s cataclysmic series of events as a “mall fire” when you’re talking in code. 

Or if you’re trying to be funny. But based on the dark circles under Robin’s eyes and the harried way Steve’s shoving a hand through his hair as he drifts towards the counter, you surmise that the three of you are very much on the same page this morning with regards to humor and hijinks.

“I didn’t know it was possible to be this hungover,” Robin groans, sinking her hand into a torn-open Skittles bag and popping a handful into her mouth. “Sugar is supposed to help, right?”

You snort, fiddling with a stack of paper brochures as Steve leans against the counter. 

“Had any more run-ins with the town riffraff?” He asks, feigning casual, honey-colored eyes roaming around the shop.

“I’m visiting you, aren’t I?” You shoot back, unreasonably defensive. 

“Another point for the pretty lady, and Harrington strikes a zero,” Robin totals in her best sports broadcasting voice. “What the hell are you talking about, Steve?”

“Drinky McGee over here was spilling her guts last night to none other than Edward Munson,” Steve replies, looking satisfied when Robin’s eyes bug dramatically.

“Eddie?” Robin hops off the stool, sliding her hands from the other side of the counter to stop your own from ripping the brochures to shreds. “And what, pray tell, were you spilling about with Eddie Muson?”

“Nothing.” You pull your hands from Robin’s, rolling your eyes as if the stakes are low, when in fact the stakes are as tall as the Empire State Building. You can practically hear the wind whistling from this height. “I wasn’t… we barely talked. He was backing me up when some jock started messing with me. That’s all.”

Robin whirls on Steve with animosity- “You left her alone long enough for some meathead to get involved? Jesus, Steve, the hell is wrong with you?”

“Like you shacking up with Vickie after two Tears for Fears tracks is any more responsible!” Steve snaps.

Having spent enough time with both your friends to know their propensity towards petty arguments, you slap a hand against the counter to derail. “Hey! Both of you knock it off. It’s fine, I’m fine, we survived yet another night out on the town unscathed. Let’s just… drop it.”

Steve looks properly chastised, but Robin gets a glint in her eye that confirms she’s not thrown off the scent so easily. 

“You know what they call him, right?” she asks you, lowering her raspy voice even further.

“Eddie The Freak Munson,” Steve supplies, but shrinks noticeably when Robin gives him a withering look. “...not that, then?”

“Of course you, Steve The Hair Harrington, would only know him by that name.” Robin shakes her head, disapproving, before turning back to you with a wicked grin. “Word on the street holds Eddie The Munch Munson in very high regard.”

Steve scoffs at this, but you blink, uncomprehending.  “Munch, like… he eats a lot of food?”

You feel very suddenly and violently ganged up on when Steve and Robin give you mirrored quizzical looks.

“No, babe,” Robin says, slowly. “Munch as in he eats pussy.”

“Jesus christ.” Heat courses through you as you scan the empty store, even as Steve chuckles and says, “You really are a prude.”

A skittle sails airborne into the side of his temple and he flinches, Robin coming to your aid. “That’s no way to talk to a lady, Steven.”

“I’m so not a prude.” You’re quick to jump to your own defense. “I just… didn’t know what that meant.”

You’d had a boyfriend for 6 months your sophomore year of high school, Ben- nice enough guy, but you’d mostly dated as an excuse to get all your firsts out of the way. Some laid-back hookups have occurred since then- it’s not like you’ve been chaste all these years, for fuck’s sake.

But you certainly wouldn’t give any of those boys a prize-winning nickname for their ability to eat you out. 

“It’s all baseless gossip, right?” Steve grabs a nearby wheeled cart and pushes it to the New Releases, resuming his shelf stocking. “I mean, what the hell else are small-townies good for other than trading lies like baseball cards.”

“I dunno,” Robin says, thoughtfully, sucking at her front teeth. “If the token lesbian is hearing about it, then he’s gotta be some sort of sex god.”

Steve’s making a snarky comeback, but you can’t hear him over the whistling in your ears.

You stare blankly out at the parking lot, one hand absently crunching at a brochure, trying really hard to think of anything but those plush lips and all the places you want them. 

____

Ever since the events of last year ripped a hole in your found family’s world, you make it a weekly habit to visit Max.

You’re always armed with some excuse- made too much pasta, please take it off my hands and put this tupperware in your fridge; I was on my way to the thrift store and thought I’d stop by, wanna come with and help me pick out some new jeans?- so that it’s harder for Max to deny your company. Slowly, over the last handful of months, by way of secondhand book offerings and slices of leftover pizza, Max has let her guard down enough to let you in. 

Even on days like today, when her demeanor suggests active disdain (calling you “mom” with a caustic bite when you ask after her last meal, rolling her eyes when she finds you doing the leftover sink dishes), you don’t take it personal. Her coldness towards little acts of kindness is due to the shitty way other people have failed her. And plus, you’ve put in enough effort to be able to see the warm side of Max Mayfield.

Like now, for instance- she’s giving you a bone-crushing hug on your way out, freshly-braided hair pressed tight to your sternum as you hug her back and sway in the doorway. The hug is quick and fierce, over in seconds as she slips back into practiced indifference

“Stay out of trouble this week and I’ll buy you a pony,” you joke as she pulls away, and the smile that she cracks makes it all worth it. 

“Make it a racehorse and you’ve got yourself a deal,” she says, giving you a small wave before closing her front door.

You walk down the dirt path to your parked car, keys in hand. Tonight’s schedule is that of a responsible, sensible young adult- the classified ads on your desk at home need trawling through, and a laundry pile the size of Hoosier Hill waits expectantly on your floor.

But there’s this crawling under your skin, a feeling that tends to flare up every so often, a craving for some sort of release gnawing at the edges. Usually the cure is sad music and masturbation, or some of Steve’s parents’ wine and a cheesy romcom. 

Or weed. That tends to work, too.

You’re shoving your keys into the pocket of your denim jacket and walking across the way to Eddie’s trailer before you lose your nerve, scuffing your sneakers against his porch while you knock.

He looks surprised to see you, dark brows raised, leaning into the palm he’s got on the doorframe- “Oh shit. Hi.”

“Hi,” you reply, tracking one foot up the back of your calf, feeling timid under his gaze. “Do you… can I buy some weed?”

When he nods, you duck under his arm and drop to one knee on the carpeted floor to untie your laces.

“Shit, sweetheart, don’t go to all that trouble.” He lets the door close, enveloping you both in the moody lighting of his trailer. There’s a radio playing the local rock station dimly from one of the bedrooms, and as you toe off your shoes you notice a gleaming black guitar leaned upright against the couch.

“Do you play?” You drift over on sock feet to gently brush across the strings, a faint and discordant noise rising and fading underneath your fingertips.

“Yeah.” Eddie’s voice comes from just over your shoulder as he watches your gentle fingers on his prized possession. “I’m in a band, actually. You should come see us play sometime.”

“That’s cool,” you say earnestly. “I remember when you got in trouble for that talent show performance- your band was totally swindled out of first place, if you ask me.”

When he doesn’t respond right away, you hazard a look at him over your shoulder and find him staring at you again, something you’re still not used to, giggling out a little “What?” as his eyes stay on your face.

“You’re pretty, that’s all.” The Dio logo on the front of his tee ripples when he shrugs a shoulder. As if he knew it would embarrass you, he leaves no room for your disagreement, turning away into the kitchen, stretching tall for the metal lunchbox on the top of his fridge.

His shirt lifts with the stretch, a flash of stomach lined with a trail of dark hair that makes you swallow back the gathering saliva in your mouth. 

“So, weed,” he’s saying as he pops the lid on the box, shaking out a small bag of fuzzy-looking green clumps. “I can set you up with a couple of days’ worth, if you want.”

“That sounds good,” you reply, mustering courage to drift to Eddie’s side, pretending to assess the baggie he’s holding, committing to memory the way his long fingers deftly pluck apart bud from stem. “That way I can come back and buy more.”

His fingers pause, halfway to the metal grinder nestled in the lunchbox as he says, “You know, you don’t need to use weed as an excuse to come see me. I think we’ve already established I like lookin’ at ya, so you’d be doing me a favor if you came by more. Just to hang out.”

This offer sits between you as he grinds the weed down, then tips a stripe of it neatly across some rolling paper. His dexterous fingers pinch and tuck until a joint takes shape, a small strip of the paper poking out.

He holds it to your lips, brown eyes shimmering with warmth as he waits. 

A Stevie Nicks song starts up on the radio, muffled by the trailer walls but crooning through all the same. This close to Eddie for the first time, you can smell him- balmy and spicy, like bergamot and Irish Spring. 

You lean into the joint, licking across the paper in one unbroken motion. Your tongue catches on Eddie’s thumb when you pull away, and there’s a salt-warm taste that settles in your mouth.

“Good girl,” he says, in that low-toned voice, and you have to fight to keep your thighs from pressing together in your jeans.

“Wanna smoke here?” Eddie smooths the spit-damp end of the joint down, giving the end a twist. “Good way to test out the merchandise. First one’s free.”

You shake your head as he extends the joint- “I’m definitely paying you, Eddie. And no, I can’t smoke here.” With you being the unspoken addition to that sentence. 

“Aw, shucks, sweetheart,” he drawls, devilish grin creeping back in, “You don’t trust me?”

“It’s not you I don’t trust,” you admit, before you can stop yourself.

His brows shoot up again, then waggle, obscenely. “Afraid I’m gonna be too tempting to resist once you’re in the clutches of the Green Dragon?”

Something like that, you think, wryly, but that fluttering is back and you really want to shut it up, so against your sensible, better judgment, you take the joint from Eddie’s hand.

“Got a light?”

You haven’t smoked in over a month, and with your tolerance so low two hits is all it takes to get you sprawled out on the living room floor, arms akimbo like you’re making a carpet snow angel.

Eddie’s a bit more restless in his high, plucking melodious and listless tunes from the couch with his guitar, one foot propped on the coffee table near your head.

Feeling loose-limbed and confident, you stare unabashed up at Eddie. He’d put his hair into a low bun, earlier, and there are a few dark tendrils swinging free around his neck with the rocking movements of his body to the music. 

He hits a snag, string buzzing out a dissonant noise. “Can’t focus with you lookin’ at me.”

“Sorry,” you murmur, except you’re not at all. “Now you know how I feel all the time.”

He sticks his tongue out at you, your girlish tittering in answer; you pat the carpet beside your hip. “Come lay with me.”

His body responds easily to your request; Eddie props the guitar back up against the couch and stretches out next to you with a sigh, a wave of that smokey sweet smell coming with him.

Under your weed-filtered view, the popcorn ceiling above you is moving, whorling and undulating in the muted light. You’re feeling gutsy and sure of yourself as you ask aloud, “Do you really think I’m pretty?”

Your head turns so you can meet Eddie’s eyes, which are dancing across your face- cheek to lips to nose back up to eyes- and he doesn’t make a joke, this time, his words coming with weighty seriousness.

“Yeah, I do. I think you’re beautiful. Always have.”

“Always?” Your echo is a soft and seeking thing.

“Yeah, always,” he confirms, simply, as if it’s a fact of life. “Woulda made a move sooner, but you always seemed so…”

“Unapproachable? Aloof? Bitchy?” You fill the gap in his speech with adjectives that have been used to characterize you in the past- usually by boys in the heat of an argument over inconsequential things that have been lost to time, only the labels sticking around. 

Eddie gives you a reproachful look. “No. I was gonna say, you seemed like you were always in your own world.”

This throws you for a loop. Neck on a swivel, you look back up at the ceiling as Eddie continues.

“I wanted to get to know you more, but I’ll be the first to admit I was intimidated by you. I mean, you’re way out of my league-” Eddie ignores the sardonic snort you give to this- “-and I just assumed asking you out would've ended with an epic crash and burn.”

The ceiling stops swaying, and you swivel back to hold Eddie’s eyes again, the weed making honesty easy. “I always kinda thought you were beautiful, too.”

Awash with the bravery that only comes from being in an altered state, you keep the momentum that’s aided by Eddie’s soft smile and push up on your elbows. 

“I know what they call you.”

Eddie blinks up at you, then slowly, slowly, pushes himself up onto his elbows too. “Yeah?”

It’s a taunt, a dare, an I bet you won’t.

Shows how much he knows. When you’re drunk or stoned, he’d be hard pressed to find a bet you can’t win.

You say it, unwavering. “Eddie The Munch Munson.”

His lips fall open, leaning in towards you as if drawn by a magnet, and you think he’s gonna kiss you until he falls back against the carpet, scrubbing his hands down his face. “Shit. Fuck. We can’t do this.”

“Why not?” You’re a little taken aback, ‘cuz while it’s not an outright rejection, Eddie’s upping the drama, hands pressed into the sockets of his eyes, groaning as he tips into your side.

With his forehead pressed into the curve of your shoulder, he says softly, “I think we’re both a little too stoned to be thinking clearly. And I really, really want you to think clearly when it comes to this.”

“Comes to what?” You’re egging him on now, trailing your fingers up his bicep, coy and angelic. 

He rolls away from you, making a pained noise with his face smushed into the carpet before pushing himself off the ground. “You know what, princess. New topic, for the love of god. You hungry?”

You are, actually, and when he extends his hand to help you up, you take it.

Eddie whips up a box of mac and cheese while you sit on a counter nearby, conversation engaging and fluid as he cooks.

Between interjections of ‘scuse me, angel, gotta get into this cabinet and can you take over stirring for a sec? you answer all his questions. You tell him your favorite bands, the states you’d visited on a road trip when you were six, even giving him the whole “my mom’s a nice enough person but we don’t get along” spiel that you don’t usually get to until a third date.

If that’s even what this is. He’s scooping steaming noodles into two bowls, passing you one, leaning up against the counter closest to the one you’re sat on. Your knee rubs against his ribcage as you eat.

In between chews, he lets you ask about himself- his favorite bands, the states he’s never been but wants to travel to someday, the highlights of his golden years with his mom that he misses every day.

There’s a quiet lull, after your bowls are scraped clean and set aside. He helps you off the counter and tells you to pick out a movie; you load The Black Cauldron into the VCR and settle into the couch cushion.

Eddie puts an arm around you, lets you play with his hands for the bulk of the film, running your nails methodically across his palms. 

By the last act of the movie, you can feel your high beginning to fade, taking your courage with it; when the credits roll, you’re ready to call it quits and sleep off the hangover in your own bed.

“You sure you’re okay to drive?” Eddie asks, following after you as you tug your sneakers back on in the hall.

“Yeah, Eddie, I’ll be good. Thanks for the weed,” you say, pulling your jacket tight around your frame. “And for the- for everything.”

The smile appears again; the one that cuts deep dimples into his cheeks as he watches you step onto his porch.

When he says your name, you turn, keys in hand- “Yeah?”

Leaning into the doorframe like he had earlier, he cants his head, streetlight a warm glow across his cheeks. “You wanna know where I got my nickname, you come back in a few days. Sleep on it tonight.” And then he closes the door.

___

So, technically, he told you to come back in a few days, and showing up less than 24 hours later has to hint at being some sort of desperate. 

Which, fuck it, you kinda are, at this point. Frankly it’s a miracle you’ve lasted this long what with the whole being plagued with visions of Eddie Munson’s hands and lips and hair and that stupid fucking nickname every waking and dreaming hour you’ve spent apart. 

While you can appreciate the honorable nature of Eddie asking you to make a clear-headed decision, you’re wishing for a hundred things to take the edge off as you change out of the PJ’s you’ve been moping in all day.

Black tights stretch over your calves as you think of the whiskey you mom keeps hidden in the downstairs cabinet; denim miniskirt smoothed over your hips as you long for a deep hit of weed; hands shakily plucking your black tanktop into place as the urge to be anything but sober gets swallowed down. 

You make the ten minute drive to Forest Hills in silence (relative to the weird engine noises your hunk of metal car decides to make), wracking your brain for silver-tongued excuses but instead drawing blank after blank.

By the time you’re rolling to a stop in front of Eddie’s trailer, you still have no idea what you’re gonna say to him- only that something needs to be said. Max is at the Sinclair’s for the night, one less person to worry about witnessing you slamming your car door shut and walking right up to Eddie on his front steps.

He’s wearing a pair of overalls, grease-stained, shirtless underneath- the tail end of a larger ink piece peeking out against his ribs. There’s a lone bike tire on the ground, held steady by the spokes his boot rests on as he wrenches the middle hub, biceps rippling and flexing with each movement. 

Certainly a sight that would have stopped you in your tracks, on any other day. But you’re determined to have it out with the returning wingbeat behind your navel, planting your Converse in the gravel just before the first step that Eddie’s sat on.

He doesn’t seem surprised to see you this time, instead giving you a lazy smile on a half-tilt, wiping the tire oil from his hands onto the front of his overalls.

“What brings a fair maiden such as yourself to this ugly neck of the woods?” Eddie leans the tire up against the steps and rises to greet you.

You’re gonna lose what little nerve you have left if he touches you so you act quick, speaking as you cross your arms- “I need to tell you a few things.”

That stops him up short, just a few feet away as he inclines his head, hair loose around his bare shoulders. “I’m nothin’ but ears.”

A wet, rattling breath catches in your chest. You give a cursory scan around to confirm that the rest of the trailer park citizens are indoors, soft lights from rows of windows luminous against the darkening twilight sky.

“I have a… a thing,” you start, unsure of where to begin, really wishing you’d come up with a polished script on the ride over instead of being forced to flounder through for the right dialogue. “It started last year. With the mall fire?” 

When Eddie nods his understanding, you continue, in short starts and bursts, like you’re fighting with the words before they come out.

“Something… happened. To Robin, and Steve, and to- to me. It was really bad, for awhile, and then it got better, but I’m still…” your hands squeeze tight into the flesh of your upper arms, nails stinging. “I’m fucked up from it. And the only way I can talk about it is if I’m fucked up, too. S’why I can only hold a conversation when I’m drunk or flirt while I’m high, like there’s this bad thing inside of me that I can’t look at when I’m sober-”

There’s a frantic edge that’s slipped in to your voice and Eddie steps towards you, as if to soothe, but you’re not ready to give in yet so you take a step back, choking out the last few words- “I just- I wish I could tell you everything, but I can’t, not yet, and I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.”

From somewhere in the forest behind, a bright chorus of crickets swells as you fix your focus on the ground, as Eddie’s boots crunch forward on the gravel, toe-to-toe with your sneakers.

He moves carefully, as if worried that you’ll spook- lightly brushing his fingers across yours, drawing your awareness to the fact that your nails are dangerously close to drawing blood, a sigh as you release.

“Thank you for telling me.” Unlike your own voice, his is low and sure as his thumbs brush against the red half-moons in your arms. “You’re really brave, you know that?”

He doesn’t leave room for you to dispute this, instead tracing the underside of your jaw with his knuckle, forcing you to hold his gaze, those deep brown eyes soft with empathy as he says, “I don’t have any expectations of you, ‘kay? I’ll be all ears when you need me to be, but you don’t have to spill all your secrets every time you come around. You wanna just watch shitty cartoons and keep my couch warm, that’s fine by me. Nothin’ else needs to happen.”

And it’s his acknowledgement of your admission, his softhearted way of letting you know that nothing needs to happen, that makes you brave.

Brave enough to tilt your chin into the lift of his finger as you say, “I didn’t just come here to apologize.”

You watch his Adam’s apple bob against the taut vein in his neck as he swallows, hard. 

“Yeah?”

When you nod, Eddie blows out a breath and turns on his heel, motioning you to follow him up the stairs. 

Your eagerness is obvious as you scramble up the steps after him, heart starting to thrum in tandem with the flutters as he shuts his front door behind the both of you.

“Take your shoes off,” is all he says, in a low, strained voice, before turning into the kitchen.

Obedient, you drop to one knee and jerk apart your sneaker laces with trembling hands. 

Now on nyloned feet, you step onto the linoleum tile of Eddie’s kitchen. He’s faced away from you at the sink, taut lines of his shoulders rising and falling as he washes his hands.

“You’re sober?” He asks, still at the sink, drying his hands on a patterned teatowel. 

When you realize he can’t see your nod, you speak- “Yes. Yeah. As a judge.”

A soft exhale through his nose, amused, as he finally turns to face you. Eddie’s eyes do that hypnotizing dance- skipping from your chin to your eyes to your lips back up again- and you let him, feeling exposed to the point of nakedness with the intensity of his focus.

“I want to hear you say it.”

The sentence winds through the air, joins the wings in your stomach, sits low in your belly as you shift your weight from side to side, a gentle rock to ease your flayed-alive nerves. 

You say it. “I want your mouth.”

Eddie takes a step closer, nearly toe-to-toe with you again. Over the familiar layer of bergamot and fresh hand soap he smells like the outdoors, and faintly of mechanic oil, hearty and wild.

“Where?” It’s a single word, but with so much weight- suggestive, a taunt, an offer.

You breathe him in, eyes fluttering closed, ‘cuz brave as you’ve been it’s still hard to say some things while looking at him. “Want your mouth… on me.”

He crowds into your space, one hand gliding smoothly to set against your waist, the other fitted against your neck, tapping a thumb to your lips.

You part them, passive and wanting, but he doesn’t press his finger to the pad of your tongue like you’d hoped. Instead, he lets his thumb stroke to the corner of your mouth to make room for his own. 

“Where?” he asks again, this time into your mouth. You can feel the tip of his nose graze yours, pinpricks of his hair tickling your cheeks. 

“Please,” is all you manage this time, awash with heat when you feel his smile form. 

“S’okay, sweetheart. I’ll work you up to it.” It’s a touch condescending, skirting that fine line between tease and mean, the same tone of voice that has your thighs pressing together.

And then, he gives you what you asked for. His plush lips- the ones that you’ve been fantasizing about for what feels like eons- are pressing against yours.

It’s a kiss that starts chaste, tender, but soon devolves into a heady, fevered thing when you push your tongue past the seam of his lips. He melts into you, using the hand he has on your face to keep you steady as he sucks your bottom lip into his mouth, grazing his teeth into the plush of it before going back to twining his tongue with yours. 

There’s an audible wet click as he pulls away, both of your chests heaving in the quiet that follows; Eddie rests his forehead against yours briefly to catch his breath, and then he’s tugging you down the hall and into his room.

It’s pleasantly messy and lived-in, posters and photographs taking up most of the walls, guitar cables snaking and criss-crossing atop his dresser. You take a seat on the bed, hands tightening into the flannel duvet while Eddie begins to undo the buttons of his overall straps.

Wholly fascinated, you watch as he pushes the thick material from his body and kicks it to the side, leaving him in just his guitar pick necklace and a simple pair of black boxers. Now on full display, you drink in the sight of the most skin you’ve ever seen of his- tattoos at his chest and arms dark against the rest of him, pale and gleaming softly in the yellow light of the bedside lamp. 

You’re trying to figure out if the larger piece on his ribs is a dragon or some other mythological creature when he moves in to sit next to you, his kisses erasing all thoughts.

Eddie’s making these throaty little noises as you kiss; his hands track lines from your hips to your sides to your shoulders, your chest unconsciously pressing into his touch. 

When his thumb catches on the outline of your beaded nipple through your shirt, he hisses lightly, drawing back to look at you again- “Is this okay?”

You nod, but he doesn’t seem satisfied with that, tsking as he swipes with his thumb again, watching closely as you react silently to the touch.

“Hard to tell when you’re enjoying yourself if you’re quiet as a churchmouse,” Eddie says, in a tone that’s reminiscent of training a pet. “You gonna let me hear you?”

Your teeth catch on your lower lip as he thumbs across your nipple again, shockwaves coursing into goosebumps as you choke out, “I’m not s-so good at that. Not without- fuck- weed..”

Eddie huffs a laugh, a little derisive but you figure he’s probably got the right, seeing as how you’re this worked up and he’s barely touched you.

“You’re plenty good at this sober, sweetheart. Want me to prove it?”

His hand falls from your breast, extricates one of yours from the covers, and slides it up the meat of his thigh- then to the front of his boxers.

The first noise you make for him is a small gasp, one that matches his own as you cup your palm over the thick jut of his hard cock.

“Told you,” he says, sounding strung-out, his hand still closed around your wrist, “You’re doin’ just fine at working me up.”

You wrap your fingers around the bulge as best you can with the fabric of his boxers separating skin from skin, gaining confidence to explore as his grip on your wrist loosens. The black ink at his ribs expands and shrinks with the bellows of his breath, jolting and stuttering with each stroke of your hand.

Just as he’s drawing in a breath to speak, tightening his hold around your wrist in warning, you still your movements. Delicately, slowly, you slide out of his grasp and take his wrist in your hand, placing his palm on your own thigh.

The whole “reciprocating pleasure with sound” is still a hard one to give in to; maybe you can compensate for your hesitancy by showing instead of telling. You guide his hand up, into your skirt, parting your thighs until his fingers find the wetness soaking through both your panties and tights. 

“Fucking… jesus.” Eddie moves with the fluid surety that you lack, middle finger running up the seam of your clothed pussy, your hips jerking reflexively when he catches against your clit. “This all for me, princess?”

In answer, you lean to bury your face into the crook of Eddie’s neck. He lets you, taking the opportunity to hook your leg over his thigh, spreading you out as much as your fitted denim skirt will allow.

You pant into the column of his throat as he strokes you through the light layers, the fabrics grinding friction into your clit caught under his fingertip. He rests his chin on the crown of your head, cooing praises that have your stomach muscles tensing.

“That’s it, good girl, such a good girl for me.”

Your clit is throbbing now as he rubs you in small, quick circles, and you’re so close to falling over the edge that you have to pull his hand away.

Eddie picks up on your unspoken plea; he tugs the skirt down your hips then tosses it blindly over his shoulder, reaching for the edge of your tights. He slips them down your thighs, your calves, peeling them off you with reverence. When all that’s left is your best pair of satin panties, he maneuvers you up against the headboard and stretches himself flat on his stomach, nose pressing into your core.

That heat has come back, flashing through you with a vengeance as Eddie mouths at your pussy through the satin, sloppily but with purpose enough to have your cunt clenching around nothing.

You stay up on your elbows, watching that mane of dark hair bracketed by your thighs, but when Eddie pulls your underwear down and off your ankle your weight falls back against the mattress.

The flat of his tongue licks a wide stripe from your weeping hole up to spread the wetness around your clit. When he sucks the bundle of nerves into his mouth, your head presses back into the covers, hands grappling above you for something to anchor your grasp.

When Eddie flicks the point of his tongue against that bright spot of nerves your hands find a pillow to grip, and when he moans into your pussy the vibrations have you instinctively pulling the pillow against your face, teeth biting into the fluff, masking the whine that would have been loud in the otherwise quiet room.

You think you might be able to get away with this setup (what with Eddie seemingly focused on making you explode into a million little pieces) but there’s a sharp smack before the outer skin of your thigh is burning, white-hot from the kiss of his rings.

Eddie’s mouth leaves you only for the time it takes for him to rip the pillow from your grasp and scold, “Uh uh, none of that, c’mon,” and then he’s back at your clit, suckling with renewed vengeance.

There are little stars bursting at the edges of your vision, your hands shooting down to grip at Eddie’s hair when he pistons the point of his tongue against you again. Your hips are subtly bucking into his mouth, shaking thighs involuntarily closing around his ears. Normally you’d be concerned about Eddie’s air intake but going off the moans he’s burying in your pussy, you’d hazard a guess that he’s really into it.

As if in confirmation, he pulls off your clit with a wet pop, laving his tongue up the junction where thigh meets pelvis, voice sounding wrecked- “Doin’ so good, sweetheart. Fuck, you got me so hard. Gonna blow a load in my boxers like a teenager, y’taste so good. Gonna let me hear you? Hm? Wanna hear you.”

You’re dizzy with want as you prop yourself on your elbows again, mouth falling open as Eddie sinks two of his fingers up to the ringed knuckle inside your velvet walls.

His other hand comes to rest on the soft curve of your stomach, pinning you in place, before he looks up at you, black pupils nearly eclipsing the chocolate brown. 

“What do you want?” he asks again, patiently, as if he doesn’t have two fingers nestled inside your cunt.

Your efforts to grind into him are stopped with his firm hold on your middle, and he tuts at you again- but instead of a reprimand, he seems to soften a bit.

“C’mon, angel,” Eddie says, with such tenderness that makes tears prick at the corner of your eyes. He presses his lips to the inside of your thigh before encouraging, “Lemme hear you say it, and I’ll make it so good for you. Promise.”

“Want you to make me come. Please.” Your voice is unsteady, but it’s audible enough.

Eddie rewards you by sinking his fingers further, to the hilt, heel of his palm catching against your clit. When you let out a warbling moan, he nods- “That’s it,”- before setting a steady rhythm for fucking his fingers up into you. 

“Fuck, Eddie- fu-uck…” you’re trying, really trying to stay in the moment and not get caught up in the noises you’re making- for him. 

When Eddie reattaches his mouth to your throbbing clit and angles his fingers to hit into that soft, spongy spot with each thrust, you feel waves of pleasure start to wash through you. There’s just time for a choked “Shit, Eddie, you’re gonna make me cum,” before you’re spasming around his fingers.

Somehow, you manage to stay on your elbows, bracing your body through the convulsive shocks, white-hot stars joining the wingbeat rhythm as Eddie takes you apart with his mouth and fingers.

He moans, long and low, fucking you through it and then some- your orgasm has been completely wrung out when you push at his forehead, whimpering at the overstimulation. 

“No, baby, one more, please. Gimme one more,” Eddie lifts his head to plead with you, sweaty bangs glued to his forehead- and then he’s back between your legs.

It’s this moment that makes you retrospective. Sex with boys, in the past, has always been a quick means to an end: a few minutes of foreplay, tamping down your own pleasure for the sake of blowing off some steam. 

But now, pleasure was being given to you in spades by Eddie Munson, and you wanted to give it back to him.

You come on his tongue and fingers, again, stomach tightening beneath his warm palm, and this time you really loose the sounds caught in your chest: a strangled mix of your bliss-soaked whines with his name, Eddie Eddie Eddie. 

You feel the bed frame jolt below you both as Eddie’s hips thrust into the mattress in a frenzied tempo.

“Fuck me.” He pulls away, finally, panting into the side of your knee. He rests his head against your leg, lips tinged pink and shining wet, gazing at you with lust-blown eyes. “You are so fucking hot. Holy shit.”

Bashful as your peak wears off, you pull him forward so you don’t have to look at him when you whisper, “Yeah?”

“Yeah, princess,” he says, slumping against your chest and into your arms. “That’s going straight to my long-term spank bank. Number one. For sure.”

You slap playfully at his shoulder, and he rises on his elbows to kiss you- once on the lips, twice on the cheek- warm palms on the outside of your shoulders. 

“Are you… d’you need any help?” you ask, reaching to tuck his hair behind his ears, feeling the crush of insecurity leech in. “I dunno if you even- I mean, did you…”

From all the physical activity, your breasts are half-spilled out of your bra, and Eddie bends to kiss at the tops of them, affectionately, shaking his head as he goes. “There is no world in which I would’ve lasted, just now. Very noble of you to assume, though.”

He grins at your giggle, then says- “I dunno about you, but I need some new underwear. Wanna borrow a pair of my boxers? Bet you’d look cute.”

________

Later, when you’re both cleaned up, dressed, and full from a pizza delivery, Eddie invites you outside for a smoke.

You sit with him on the porch couch, legs slung over his, a big flannel blanket shared over both your laps while he smokes with the hand that isn’t on your thigh. 

There’s a crunching of wheels on gravel, and Max Mayfield’s bike lamp cuts through the dark.

“Hey, Heavy Metal,” she calls out, undoing her bike helmet and leaning her bike into its kickstand. “Are you done fixing up Lucas’s tires or do I have to keep hauling my ass all the way across town to see him?”

“I’ll have it done tomorrow, Red,” Eddie calls back, giving her a salute.

Halfway to her door, she remarks, “You two are gross, by the way,” 

You cross your arms in the sweatshirt Eddie loaned you, slipping into irksome older sister mode easily. “So how’d it go with your boyfriend, tonight, Maxine?”

She flips you both off, but you catch the smile on her face before the front door bangs shut behind her.

Eddie chuckles, smoothing his palm up your thigh, then takes another drag. “You gotta come night smoke with me more often, angel. The streetlights suit you.”

“Gonna get me hooked on nicotine, too?” Your sock foot pokes him in the ribs and he tuts, snapping it up in his free hand and digging his thumb into the arch of your sole.

“Fuck no, your teeth are too pretty to ruin. Want you to come keep me company while I destroy my lungs.”

Another cloud of smoke lifts dreamily around Eddie’s face. His thumb is working wonders on the tense muscle of your foot as you tip your head to rest on the back of the couch. With the nearby streetlamp, his profile is cast in a warm glow; you do a dance of your own, eyes taking in the strong slope of his nose, tracking down to his lips, back up to the wild curls at his temple.

Eddie feels you staring, turns to fix you with a quit it look that you can’t help but laugh at- “What, so you’re the only one who’s allowed to stare?”

“That’s right,” he confirms, leaning forward to set his cig in an ashtray, bullying his way into your space, rings cold under your chin when he tilts your face towards his- “Gotta pay the piper for that obvious violation, sweetheart. Sorry. I don’t make the rules.”

This time, when the flutter within you kicks up, you have a place for it to go- melting softly into Eddie’s lips. 

___________________

I wrote the last third of this while blasted please don’t judge too harshly lmao.

for more shy!Reader content: masterlist

[fun-loving-peach]

Soft Intimate Moments with Satoru Gojo

a/n: Hi guys I’m back :3, I’ve kinda been procrastinating on writing so took time for myself but now I’m back with more soft fluff (cause I miss my babygirl, the manga has me on my knees) love y’all my little peaches hope you enjoy 😚

Divider by lovely @plutism 🤍

Satoru always has to touch you. Whether it’s always holding your hand or on the small of your back. He always has to be touching in a way so he doesn’t feel you drifting off.

Satoru always holds your stare. He’s always looking at you even if you two aren’t talking. He enjoys being with you and looking at all your perfections and imperfections he wants to memorize them all.

Satoru always hugs you from behind when he sees you have your back turned to him. He hugs your waist as he gives you a kiss on your nape. A sweet soft kiss as he enjoys the warmth radiating from you.

Satoru holds your thigh whenever he’s driving. It’s a slight comfort to have you close to him. He definitely loves thick thighs because he can squeeze them whenever he feels off, more room for his hands to reach. (As a thick thigh girly I need this so bad 😭)

Satoru always shares his sweets with you. He wants to see if you like something as much as he does so he can buy more of it next time he brings you out for a date. Like imagine sitting in a cafe ordering the newest sweet he had in mind for weeks as he shares it with you. Seeing you like it makes him light up with joy as he orders another one.

Satoru takes your make up off whenever you fall asleep with it on. He knows how you get in the morning when your face is smudge with make up or staining the pillows with it. So he always makes sure to grab a tissue that he found in your bag of make up and wipe your face. You might still have a little liner or sparkles im your face the next morning but he definitely tried his best.

Satoru loves showering you and not like in a sexual way (at least not all the time) he loves being so close and intimate with you. Washing your hair and body with the softest touch. He loves being so vulnerable with you. Might also do funny hairstyles with you whenever he washes your hair. Sometimes it’s a Mohawk other times it’s Elvis.

Satoru loved talking about your guys future together. Where’d it be moving in together permanently or wanting to marry you. It’s always at the back of his head and he loves talking about it with you, knowing you feel the same and want to build a future together like you both deserve.

Satoru always wipes your tears when you cry. He can’t stand seeing your pretty face all upset. Thumbs rubbing your cheeks as he presses a small kiss to your forehead. Even when you guys argue he hates seeing you cry and immediately apologizes so he can stop you from crying to comfort you.

Tag’s: @ladythornofrivia

[idontknowanyonesblog]

How I think the bayverse bots would react after having an argument/ disagreement with there s/o

This one includes Drift, Crosshairs, Bumblebee, Hound, Hot Rod and Optimus

Cade calls reader kid a few times but he literally calls everyone younger then him kid so don’t worry😭

Drift:

Drift was stressed. He felt like Optimus was relying on him more and more ever since the TRF came after the autobots. Meditating was something Drift did to calm himself down so that’s what he went to do. He sat on the far side of the junkyard trying to clear his thoughts before you came over to him to tell him something before he interrupted you and went off. You just looked up at him bewildered that he would blow up at you for no reason at all. You scoffed at him before speaking in a hurt tone “well if you wanna be alone then we can arrange that!”. It literally took him like 10 seconds to realize that he shouldn’t have done that but you had already walked away. You decided to give him the silent treatment for a few days. It was hard for him to watch you walk right past him and not even look his direction. Once he finally decided enough was enough he cornered you and gave you a genuine apology. “I’m so sorry my precious flower I didn’t mean to yell at you, I wasn’t thinking clearly but that still isn’t an excuse.” He said to you as he kneeled down and bowed his head in shame. How could you not forgive him? Especially as his bright blue optics were full of guilt. He looked like a kicked puppy. “It’s okay Drift, I understand. You just were really stressed out.” You said reassuringly to him to make sure he didn’t feel TO bad. He still felt super guilty and took you out on a drive through a really nice country area and told you how much he loves you and loves being with you.

Crosshairs:

We all know Crosshairs can be a rude jerk (once in a while tho) so it’s no surprise you two finally had an argument. He just being snapping, rude, irritated for no reason and just overall an asshole that day. “What’s your problem Cross? You’ve been so…bitchy to me all day! If I did something wrong just tell me!” You said in an annoyed voice, finally having enough of this. Your words just seemed to piss him off more. He looked at you and went off about how you never leave him alone and how everyone is always on his ass etc. You huffed and walked away not wanting to deal with him anymore. It had been a few hours and he still didn’t come looking for you which actually kinda hurt. You assumed he just didn’t care or felt no remorse but that quickly changed when Cade came over to you. “Listen kid, you needa go make things right with your hissy fit boyfriend over there cus apparently you two got in a fight and now he won’t talk to anyone!” Cade said slightly out of breath from running across the junkyard. You were shocked. Not only because of what Cade told you but because Crosshairs literally never told anyone anything so it was a bit of a surprise he told Cade you guys had an argument. You sighed and went to look for him and when you finally found him he was facing away from everyone with his arms crossed like a child that had just been sent to time out. It was actually kinda funny but this wasn’t the time to laugh. “Crosshairs…I’m sorry that I said you were acting bitchy. I-I didn’t mean to say it like that, I just wanted to find out why you were so rude to me today…” You said in a soft voice as you stepped closer to him. “No, it’s fine. I’m the one who should be apologizing, I didn’t mean to yell at you love.” He sighed and turned to look at you. You smiled at him and walked up to him. He picked you up and placed you on his shoulder and proceeded to tell you how much he loved you for the next 10 minutes.

Bumblebee:

Arguments with Bee were extremely rare like EXTREMELY rare, but that doesn’t mean they don’t happen from time to time. It was late when the two of you got back to the junkyard and to say you were pretty pissed was an understatement. He was being reckless and dangerous with you so you scolded him (and yelled in a very angry manner at him) until your throat was sore. He made a sad little wiring sound and slumped forward, clearly ashamed of himself. You left without saying a word. You woke up the next morning to the sound of something tapping on your window. You groaned and got up to open the curtains and when you did you saw Bee kneeled down and tapping at your window. You sighed and went outside so you could see him fully. You put your hands on your hips as he looked down at you with his light baby blue optics. “Bee listen, I-“ before you could finish he cut you off with a static sound. A few moments later the lyrics to careless whisper started to play out of his radio.

“So I'm never gonna dance again the way I danced with you~

Never without your love~

Tonight the music seems so loud

I wish that we could lose this crowd~”

A small laugh escaped your lips and you let out a little smile at him. You rolled your eyes playfully at him. “Okay okay, I forgive you Bee!” You chuckled lightly. “Good-I love you” his radio buzzed out between crackles. Just as you were about to go back inside his radio buzzed once more. “Love me, love me, say that you love me~” The cardigans, nice band choice. You turned to look at him with a large smile. “I love you very much Bee.” He made a happy little clicking and wiring sound as he bent down to you. You placed a hand on the side of his muzzle and gave him a small kiss before going back inside.

Hound:

Hound was know for being reckless and making poor decisions and this was another one of those poor decisions. The day started off fine until Cade said he needed him to come with him to check out a demolished town about a two or so hours from the junkyard. You heard Cade say something about “traces of energon” and you automatically knew this wasn’t going to end up well. Hound and Cade left the Junkyard for over 6 hours which you made you worry. A twisted sick feeling in your stomach as you prayed that they would come back unharmed, and well they did come back, they didn’t come back unharmed. Cade explained how the TRF found them and how they had to get out of there. Cade was scratched and bruised everywhere and Hound looked worse than you’ve ever seen. After patching up Cade and fixing Hound they got the scolding of a lifetime. Cade went inside his trailer while you decided to walk away from Hound and settle this more in the morning. The next day you went to go find him and went off about

how reckless he was being. “I just don’t understand why you have to always put yourself in these situations! I-i was worried sick a-and I thought you weren’t going to come back!” You said in distress. Hound looked extremely guilty and regretful. He knew how much you worried for him. “I’m sorry Y/n, I really am! I didn’t think twice about it but at least we got out alive. Damn fleshy no good back stabbing humans…” He muttered the last part. You sighed and looked up at him. “It’s fine Hound, I was just really worried. Just please try not to be as careless next time.” You said softly to him. He met your gaze and nodded. “I won’t, I promise. I love you Y/n.” He said. “Love you to Hound.” you said with a light smile.

Hot Rod:

This takes place at Sir Edmontons castle when Bumblebee and Cade arrive so like reader lives at the castle with Sir Edmonton.

Hot Rod was acting strange around you. Giving you short replies to your questions and barely speaking to you ever since Cade and Bumblebee arrived at the castle. It upset you that suddenly he just stopped talking to you but there was only so much you could do. You decided to take a walk through the gardens to clear your head and on the way you found Bumblebee. The two of you chatted a little bit until you saw Hot Rod in the distance and waved to him. He waved back and looked like he was about to come over until he noticed Bumblebee standing next to you and turned away. So that’s the problem. He was mad about you and Bumblebee spending time together. Bumblebee made a small wiring sound and shrugged as he looked down at you with a confused expression. “It’s nothing personal Bee, I’ll go talk to him…” you sighed and went in the direction where Hot Rod was going. Once you caught up to him you realized you were walking near the edge of the cliff that met the ocean. The sunset casting a beautiful orange glow onto the castle grounds. “Hot Rod, what’s wrong? You aren’t speaking to me lately.” You asked him softly as you walked next to him. “There is nothing wrong Amour.” He said a bit irritated. “Don’t lie to me, I saw the way you looked at Bumblebee. And it’s no coincidence that as soon as he shows up you stop talking to me so please just tell me what I did wrong!” You pleaded in a hurt voice. Hot Rod sighed before coming to a stop and kneeling down in front of you. “I’m sorry chérie, I just feel like as soon as Bumblebee came you stopped speaking with me as much and I got jealous so I stopped talking to you.” He admitted in a remorseful tone. You could see the guilt on his face as he refused to make eye contact with you. You felt just as bad, it was never your intention to ignore him, you were just curious when you got to meet another autobot for once. You placed a hand on the side of his face gently. “Hot Rod, I’m so so so sorry. I didn’t mean for it to seem like I was uninterested in you, I was just curious about finally meeting another autobot. I would never try and replace you my love.” You said to him with a soft expression. “ I you didn’t mean anything by it Y/n, it was irresponsible of me to act like I did. I love you more than anything.” He said as he placed his hands around your waist and lifted you up. “I love you to Hot Rod.” You giggled before kissing him gently.

Optimus Prime:

Because Optimus wasn’t really in the last knight that much until the end of the movie I’m just gonna stick with the junkyard for this one sorry guys🙏

Optimus was tired. He was tired, stressed, sore and exhausted from everything. For months he had been protecting the autobots, you and Cade. He had been protecting his friends. His family. You noticed how tired Optimus was and you barely ever saw him anymore. You wished he could catch a break but he always overworked himself. One night he looked rougher than usual and that’s when you finally spoke up. “Optimus, you need to rest. You’ve been working your ass off day and night to keep everyone safe and happy but you don’t take the time to make sure you’re safe and happy.” You said as you paced around in front of him. His deep gravely voice braking you out of your trance. “I’m not a child Y/n, I know what I need and I do not need to rest.” His comment made you clench your fists. You were simply trying to look out for him and he gives you some snappy little comeback. You knew it wasn’t his fault, he was exhausted and obviously frustrated with everything going on. A sigh left your lips as you muttered a small goodnight to him before walking away to get some rest yourself but all night you couldn’t stop wishing that he was at rest to. Optimus watched as you walked away, a feeling of guilt ate away at his spark. You were trying to do what was best for him and he pushed you away. After talking a bit with Cade about the little argument he decided to finally get some rest and deal with it in the morning. Once morning finally came Optimus spotted you walking to the auto shop in the middle of the junkyard. You heard his loud thunderous footsteps and looked over at him, your expression a bit gloomy from what happened yesterday. He kneeled down to you and looked you deep in your eyes. “I’m so sorry for talking to you like that the other night my sweetspark, I didn’t mean to snap and you were right, I do need to rest.” He said in a deep tired voice. He looked so guilty but only sincere with his apology to you that it made your heart flutter. You smiled softly at him before speaking. “It’s okay Optimus, I’m just glad you’re starting to realize what’s best for you.” He nodded and gave you another apologetic look before standing up again. “I must go out with Cade, he needs me for something but I will be back shortly. I love you Y/n.” Optimus said before transforming into his truck mode. “Love you to Optimus and be safe.” You said back to him as he drove off towards Cade. You couldn’t ask for a better boyfriend.

OK THATS IT BYE❤️

[purplestanleypinkblanket]

First Kiss With Logan:

Pairings: (DP3 Vers.) Logan Howlett x reader

Summary: After a shitty date, you seek comfort from Wade who threw you a ‘Cherry Popped’ party. It ends up making you feel worse, which leads you into the arms of a man who’s grown fond of you. Logan.

Warnings: Kissing, talking about bad date, cursing, brief mentions of drinking, innuendos to "cherry popping", use of the word virgin. Self-deprecating talk in some areas, from both reader and Logan.

Genre: Angst, Fluff

Word Count: 2,388

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You hated that you found yourself, seated across from a man who, frankly, hadn't asked you a single question about yourself all night. You also hated how much this man yapped. God, all he did was talk and talk without even the slightest breath. And you hated that you continued to stay seated. Perhaps you were too kind, or maybe you thought you had no right to leave. After all, the man was buying you dinner. It was hard to shake that kind of guilt. You knew you owed him nothing, that it's okay to leave a shitty date- but a part of you wondered if this was all you had going for you. A shitty date, with a shitty man on a shitty afternoon.

As you spaced out your thoughts drifted back to Logan, you wondered if dates with him were like this. What if they weren't? What if he was kind? Well, slightly kinder than normal. He didn't strike you as the pull-your-chair-out-for-you kinda guy, but you had a feeling he would ask you questions instead of yapping your ear off. Maybe he would ask about your day at work, or what you like to do in your free time. Possibly he'd like to hear funny stories about your family. No, that felt too intimate for a first date. Maybe on a third date you'd share those stories with him.

God, what are you even on about right now? You're on a date with a man buying you dinner and you're thinking about Logan! As your eyes looked over the man, you finally tuned back into what he was saying.

"My ex was fucking crazy! That bitch-"

Aaanndd, you lost interest immediately. The more this dude spoke, the more of a dick he sounded. You couldn't help but feel thankful when the date ended. However, the chime of your phone caught your attention during the walk back to your apartment.

'Hey, sugar tits.' Wade's text read. 'Come over, we're celebrating you getting your cherry popped!' That dick knew you weren't a virgin, he just wanted a damn reason to celebrate. What better way to celebrate then partying over your friend not getting laid? It was a cruel joke you really weren't in the mood for but the image of Logan blowing up balloons with Blind Al, a smile just barely tugging at his usually grumpy face...it was hard to say no too. And Wade knew that- its why he sent you the picture after all.

"Fucking dick." You murmured to yourself as you wrapped your cardigan around you tighter, pushing the front door to Wade's apartment open as you did so. The sight was ridiculous, balloons, streamers, wall decor, banners that read 'Pop That Cherry!' draped off the ceiling. You took a mental note to punch Wade in his smart-ass lip later. But, for now, it was nice being in the comfort of your friends. Yes, even the snarky teenager Negasonic and her girlfriend. You were a teenage girl once, but it still didn't stop you getting annoyed when she nitpicked your outfits. It isn't your fault baggy sweaters and legging were literally a godsent.

You trudged your way through the crowded apartment, hand adjusting your white sweater to cover the tank top under it a little better. As you approached Logan and Wade, you grew more aware of the length of your skirt. Was it too long? Too short? Would Logan think it looked good? God, why did you even care what Logan Howlett, labeled the worst wolverine, thought of you? You didn't think he was the worst wolverine. You'd never say it, of course not, because then he'd know you actually liked being around him! Perhaps it was selfish of you to keep yourself so guarded around him, but you couldn't shake the fear of letting down your walls and risking getting hurt. It was scary. Losing that much control. And over what, a feeling?

A hand extending towards you caught your attention, it was Logan, offering you a drink.

"Thank you." You spoke to him, voice quiet compared to the blaring pop music Wade was playing. He grunted in response, but you swear you heard a 'you're welcome.' You brought it to your lips, casually slow sipping the alcohol over the course of the night. It was fun to dance with Vanessa as Wade and Peter tried to convince Logan to join the group. You couldn't help the laugh on your lips when Wade made a snarky comment about Logan's panties being in a twist, earning a threatening unsheathing of claws from logan. You never fully understood the shame Logan felt, even though you tried incredibly hard to. To you, he was amazing, he was strong, he was...well, to say you only admired him would be a lie.

You wished you could show Logan the way you saw him, the way the world saw him. Sure, he was hot, unnecessarily hot, with large biceps and shoulders that went for days. But he was more than that. He was a grump who pushed people away out of fear of hurting them. And to prevent himself from getting hurt. It was ironic, really. Perhaps you and him were more alike than you thought. After a while in the overstimulating party, you slipped away, moving to stand on the balcony. You hadn't been there long, probably thirty minutes? It was nice, listening to your friend's party as you took a break to look at the city.

"Thought I'd find you here." Logan's rough voice spoke as he walked out onto the balcony, shutting the door behind him.

You hummed in response, flashing him a smile as you looked away. Logan could feel his heart skip a beat at your smile- it was always nice when you graced him with it. He'd give anything to see you smile. Hell, he wished he could make you smile and laugh the way Wade and Vanessa did. They matched your morbid sarcastic humor easily. Something he struggled to do. He approached you, leaning onto the railing beside you.

"Congrats on the...uh..."

"I'm not a virgin."

"Oh..."

The silence was awkward between you. You had to purse your lips to prevent you from bursting out in a laugh. You found it hilarious how just one statement suddenly made him go quiet.

"Wade had-" You spoke, trying to stifle your laugh with your hand. "Wade thought it would be funny to throw a 'cherry popped' party because it's been forever since my last date." You revealed, not able to contain your laugh any longer. "It's actually kinda sweet. In a weird way, ya know, Wades weird way." The corners of Logan's mouth lifted slightly at the sound of your laugh. It had always been his favorite sound after meeting you.

"Guess so." Logan contributed to the conversation, bringing the glass beer bottle to his lips. You looked at logan watching as he looked over the city, your eyes analyzing him. His jaw, his hair, the crow's feet by his eyes from his constant state of scowling. Maybe it was the liquid courage you had drank. Or you finally just decided to give Logan a sense of affection. You loved to shower your friends with affection, often times holding Wade as you two watched tv, or Vanessa sitting on your lap as you gossiped. Logan had seen it plenty of times. God, sometimes you even gave Peter affection. Each time he felt a twinge of jealousy, he wanted to be the object of your affectionate touches. Or the way you murmured praise directed at them after a task- he wanted that.

Your hand reached up, gently soothing out some strands of his beard that were in disarray. Logan tensed under your touch, and you immediately pulled away, guilt and embarrassment swarming you.

"Oh, sorry, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable." You adamantly apologized, face heating up.

"Don't worry about it." Logan roughly said, silently regretting the way you withdrew so quickly. He watched as you tried to subtly put some distance between the two of you- the sting of rejection clear as day on your face. He hadn't meant to reject you; you were reading too much into it. His mind sidetracked as he looked away, maybe he was the one reading too much into it? "How was your date?" He settled on asking, bringing the beer to his lips.

"Shitty." You sighed, frowning.

Logan nodded, waiting for you to continue. Silence falls between you two and he flashed you an expectant glance. You hadn't realized he wanted you to keep talking until he looked at you.

"Oh, uh, there isn't really much to say." You shrugged, looking away. "He didn't ask any questions, just talked about himself the whole time. Was super annoying too." Logan couldn't help the satisfaction that welled in his chest upon hearing your defeated words. It sucked for you, of course it did. But Logan was so glad the date was bad- that way no one could come in, sweep you off your feet, and away from him. He hadn't made a move on you, and he couldn't decide if he ever would. He didn't want to risk hurting you like he had done the others he cared for.

However, the glance of tiredness in your expression when you had looked at him momentarily...he hated it. He hated himself for being so happy your date was bad, and he hated that he wasn't the one you wanted to sweep you off your feet.

"Like...it isn't hard to make a girl feel special. To make her feel like a princess." You laughed with a shake of your head. "I dunno, maybe I'm just expecting too much?" You looked at Logan as you asked, a need for reassurance present.

Logan stared at you; brows furrowed as he analyzed you. The scowl on his features prominent. Believing you had said too much, or you annoyed him with your ramblings, an apology escaped your lips.

"Fuck, sorry, I shouldn't have-"

"Princess." Logan's comment snapped you from your rushed apology. "Relax." He had taken that brave step closer to you, facing you fully as his side and arm holding the beer leaned against the balcony railing. He was glad you were comfortable enough to unload that on him and he was determined to keep it that way. "I don't mind." You looked up at him, eyebrows furrowed, lips slightly pursed as your mind ran. That was another thing he liked about you. It was so easy to tell if you were thinking. Your eyebrows always furrowed, your lips pursed into a line, and your eyes always spoke a thousand words.

Despite his better judgement, his hand rose, gently flattening the skin between your eyebrows. The gesture was small, yet it held so much intimacy. You had always been picky about who could touch you. You loved to shower your friends with affection, but rarely ever let anyone reciprocate it back. Logan wondered why that was. What had affected you so much that you refused to let anyone even shake your hand. Here he was, though, thumb moving from the area between your eyebrows to his hand cupping your cheek. Your eyes were wide, your throat dry. You had never expected this from him. This gentleness, the way he had observed your furrowed brows...you leaned your face into his hand, unable to help the way you melted into it. It was a chilly night, and, God, was he warm.

Logan closed the distance between the two of you, now standing directly in front of you. His thumb caressing your cheek. As he stared into your eyes, his gaze couldn't help but flicker down to your lips, a red faded stain on them from the lipstick you had worn to your date. They looked so soft, so enticing. And he couldn't help but wonder if that peppermint chapstick you wore 24/7 worked. He had never been one for chapstick, but you seemed obsessed with it. Logan's thumb slipped from where it rubbed your cheek to your bottom lip, slowly tracing it. You subconsciously licked your lips as he traced them, your chest tight. Why was it suddenly so difficult to breathe? Your throat was beyond dry, your face paled under his gaze yet somehow it felt like your blush deepened. The way his eyes analyzed your lip, your eyes, your nose, that mark you had since you were a child...It was like he was memorizing you.

You wanted to say something, anything. Preferably something sarcastic and witty. No words came to your lips regardless of the fact that your mind was working overdrive. Time slowed as his thumb gently pulled your lip down, encouraging your mouth to part as his hand cupped your chin now, guiding you closer to him. He leaned down, face inches from yours. He paused there, however, waiting for your permission because he knew that you needed that variation of control to feel safe. He wanted to make you feel safe, he wanted you to know you were safe. That he had you. You brushed your lips against his, slightly closing that gap between you two. He took that as permission as he pressed his lips to yours fully. It was gentle at first, as if he was scared that at any moment you'd disappear. Or worse, break.

Your arms moved to wrap around his neck, pulling him close as you held onto him. His hands finally rested around your waist, the kiss growing stronger as he deepened it. People claim that you would feel fireworks during a kiss, but that wasn't the case at all. You felt electricity against your skin that was against him, but the most powerful feeling was how right it felt. Like you were meant to be there, in his arms, kissing him, holding him. He had broken the kiss, opening his eyes to stare at you.

Logan wondered if he'd ever be able to let another person get close to him. He was certain Wade would've been the only one- a victim of the circumstance's kind of thing. But he sure as hell was glad that today he was the one who held you attention as he pressed another kiss to your lips.

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Could you do some headcanons of a Mc reader dating the BB League Elite 4 + Kieran but miraidon gets super jealous.

It gets to the point where they get out of their Pokeball to growl á them.

Amarys

While she isn't too good at expressing emotions herself, she can read the emotions of others quite well.

Apparently this extends to Pokémon, especially after she notices your Miraidon acting rather irate around her. It even got to the point where they kept bursting from their pokeball to growl at her whenever you're together.

"It seems your Agias has suddenly grown a dislike for me, [y/n]." She remarked one day. "But I cannot figure out why..have I done something to upset them recently?"

"Nothing that I know of. Although I think it's worth mentioning that they're actually called Miraidon, not Agias."

"..is that so? Then I will correct this error right away."

Both of you think that after she apologizes, the problem would be resolved...yet it continues, with Miraidon always budging into your conversations, trying to get you on their back and fly/drive off without warning, etc.

All of this happens despite there being no danger present.

Eventually, you chalk up their protective nature to one probable cause: Jealousy.

You were spending more time with Amarys, and perhaps that made your futuristic companion worried you'll spend less with them.

When you brought this up to your gf, she's surprised and isn't too sure how to resolve this..

Considering she's new to relationships, she didn't expect a Pokémon of all things to become so jealous of her.

You end up suggesting that the two bonded (outside of timed flying trials of course) so that they could learn to trust her more.

Despite lacking emotional depth, she still tries her best, knowing this would greatly benefit all three of you in the long run if you were going to continue dating.

Crispin

"Hey uh..your Pokémon is giving me a funny look again.....w-was the sandwich too spicy for them? I can always turn down the heat."

He's straight-up convinced that Miraidon is mad at him because he's making their sandwich the wrong way.

So he keeps changing up the ingredients, hoping to satisfy them (yet it doesn't help when they keep popping out of the pokeball and scaring him).

You've figured out ages ago that they were simply jealous of how much time you were spending with your new bf.

Alas, you're dating a chef who's not only a hothead, but an airhead as well.

"Do you think your Miraidon and Magmortar got into an argument? Because they keep staring at him like they wanna rip him apart..haha.."

"No, honey..it's you, not your Pokémon."

"....ohhh so you're saying I got into an argument with Miraidon! Yeah that makes sense..I did sorta lose my cool with them the other day..."

Sometimes you wonder if a bonk from that frying pan of his would help knock some sense into him....

Instead, though, you just have him sit down in the club room while you explain Miraidon's jealousy in detail.

Crispin finally understands and immediately feels bad (and a little dumb knowing it took him this long to realize it). He's rushing to apologize to your companion, promising to make them the best sandwich possible--hot or not.

He still gets nervous about kissing you/holding your hand when they're nearby, often feeling the need to hide behind the pan.

But you reassure him it's okay.

Drayton

Tbh he kinda relishes in the huffy demeanor your Miraidon has been displaying in recent days.

The way they gnash their teeth, circle around him, make sparks fly, hover over you, and light up their eyes as though preparing to use Electro Drift...

Yep, despite how flashy and futuristic they are...all Drayton sees is another dragon type Pokémon who's throwing temper tantrums.

And being such chill guy around dragons, he has no fear and instead teases them behind your back, getting them riled up.

"Oh c'mon. You don't scare me. I know you've been looking out for [y/n]...and watching them hang out with Kingdra and Archaludon-"

"Agiiaaassss.."

"...there it is." He laughs. "Look, I'm not "stealing" them from ya. So let's just try to get along for their sake, alright?"

"......"

"Right. I knew we'd come to an understandin'."

Somehow, the two are VERY good at hiding this little grudge from you, although you have noticed Miraidon being more protective than usual over you whenever Drayton's around.

But it boils over when they saw you shining his Archaludon's armor while on a picnic date, throwing a fit and almost having a fullblown battle with each other without either of you at the helm.

Luckily, all the other dragons on your team diffused the situation...

You're a little bit outraged (pun not intended) that Drayton never told you of Miraidon's jealousy issues--and that he was taunting them for it.

"C'mon, they know I'm only kidding around."

"...our Pokémon almost broke the damn table."

"I'll pay for the damages."

"I think you're missing the point here, babe.."

Lacey

From the moment she started showing you around the school...she wondered why Miraidon was acting weird.

Her first thought was that they could sense her being a fairy type trainer, but she isn't sure what to do about that, so she keeps quiet.

But after you two started dating, they grew more protective of you and jealous of her..and it's something she notices waaaay before you do.

After it gets to the point of them jumping out of their pokeball to scare her (and quickly go back in without you seeing them), her nerves were shot.

Even so, she doesn't want you to worry. So she keeps trying to be friendly towards them, but it's hard.

Doesn't help that Granbull is being quite sassy towards the electric/dragon type, too, growing just as protective over Lacey as they are over you.

And ofc she has to quell their argument before things turn ugly...and one day, it almost did.

"I'm sorry, but this is NOT right!" She crosses her arms, standing between the two Pokémon. "Granbull, I know you're better than this. And Miraidon, I know you don't trust me, but you need to-"

"What's going on, Lace?"

"!!!"

You were gone for all but two minutes, and you come back to your poor gf trying to stop a Pokémon battle from taking place.

Finally, she admits that Miraidon has been acting extremely jealous and it's made her nervous.

You feel terrible for not realizing this sooner, and promise to speak to your companion about it.

Least to say..you wind up coddling them and giving them treats, reassuring them you'll still pay attention to them--but they had to be nice to Lacey and not antagonize her fairies.

Reluctantly, they agree on the condition of getting a sandwich everyday.

Kieran

Considering Miraidon saved his life, it was definitely strange when that same Pokémon now seemingly hated his guts..

This all happened the moment you and him starting dating, with them popping out of the pokeball (and not because he mentioned sandwiches) and growling before you could share your first kiss.

It was embarrassing for Kieran, and he doesn't know how to earn their trust back.

He just muddles over the fact that he was...definitely less-than-kind to you, their trainer, back before the trip to Area Zero.

He said things to you that he didn't mean, things he regretted saying..and suddenly he wonders if Miraidon could have possibly heard all of that.

If they could hear you both discussing sandwiches, then surely....

It genuinely starts to stress him out, as he's trying so hard to make amends with everyone and not be hated anymore.

And yet he seemed to be forgiven by all...except for Miraidon.

Maybe they even regret saving him

You notice that your bf is starting to cower behind you at their presence, being scared to look them in the eye, etc.

Eventually, you get him to confess that he thinks your companion despises him, and the guilt resurfaces enough to make him cry, kneeling and pleading for their forgiveness.

But you comfort and reassure him that Miraidon's only jealous of you two spending so much time together.

"R-Really? That's all it was...?"

"Yep. I already gave them a stern talking to." You help him stand up. "I'm sorry they keep coming off as aggressive. They just gotta warm up to you a little more, that's all."

"So they don't..hate me?"

"Nope."

After that, Kieran tries his best to earn the dragon type's respect, becoming a bit braver with each interaction.

[starkeysprincess]

hey gorgeous could you write something about cocky Rafe meeting reader who looks like the shyest/cutest most innocent thing in the world. Looks like a literal cinnamon roll/would never hurt a fly, but in actuality can be a bitch if she wants.

Like he goes up to her all smug that he could win her over and her knowing his reputation is thinking “absolutely not” and puts him in his place and he’s just shocked that 1. She was not who he thought she’d be and 2. That she completely embarrassed him in front of everyone.

Maybe after that he works hard to make her his. You can do whatever you want with this story I just want to see cocky Rafe being put in his place lol

I just imagine him with this look from season one loml fr 😩

a/n: this is short & kinda straight to the point ??? (im not sure how I feel about this tbh) + I decided to make reader a golf-cart girl cause i think it fits w this

Rafe's eyes constantly drifted towards your direction as you drove around the course. The small, pink skirt you wore and your smile caught his attention and he couldn't help but think about how sweet and innocent you looked.

His thoughts were interrupted when Topper called out his name, "Dude, it's your turn". Rafe shook his head, his eyes flickering back to you the closer you drove towards them.

You parked the cart near them, asking if they wanted any drinks, and just from hearing your voice, his observations proved him right, you sounded just as sweet as you looked.

You could feel Rafe's eyes on you, "It's rude to stare" you mutter. "Can't help it, you look good, princess" Rafe chuckles and you try not to roll your eyes.

You try your best to ignore him as you make their drinks, just trying to get through work but your patience is starting to wear thin and it's getting harder the more he flirted.

"That cute little skirt looks good on you but I bet the view of you bending over in it, looks even better" Rafe smirks and you snap, ready to wipe that smug look off his face.

“Was that supposed to impress me? Make me swoon?” you scoffed, “Maybe, maybe not” he shrugs, “Why? Do you want me to impress you?”.

You can’t help but laugh, “Absolutely not. You really think that I’d want you, out of all men, to impress me?”.

“I know how you are, Rafe. You don’t think I don’t know what your reputation is like? You’re pretty much a dick to everyone unless they’re deemed useful to you and you’re nothing but a man whore” you added.

“Read my lips carefully when I say this, okay?” you point to your mouth, “You and I are never going to happen”. You hop back onto the cart, “I’m not wasting any more of my breath and I have money to make”.

His jaw clenches as you drive off and in all honesty, he wasn’t expecting the words that came out of your mouth.

“Shut the fuck up, Top” he scowls when he hears Topper trying to hold back a laugh, “Can’t help it, man. It was kind of funny, you got your ass handed to you”.

Rafe rolls his eyes, “Whatever, I’ll make her come crawling to me eventually”.

tagging: @oceandriveab @babygorewhore @xxbimbobunnyxx @fae-of-prey @sturnioloshacker @heartsforvin @hallecarey1 @kisses4angel @hyperfixationgirl @emilysuperswag @starkeysheart @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles @amandabbbbb @rafecameroninterlude @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account @spid6y @chimindity @starkeysbebe @spacexdrago @honeybunniesoobin @juniebugg @wearemadeofstardust0

[lipglossanon]

Bound For The Floor

dogman!Leon S. Kennedy x puppy!fem reader (one shot)

Dedicated to 🍁 anon! I hope you enjoy it!! 💜 😘

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, reader is mid 20’s with Leon being older, appearances from Ark Thompson and Chris Redfield, jealous Leon, masturbation, dirty talk, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, knotting, biting, aftercare

looked over a smidge 🤏

Title from Bound for the Floor by Local H

It’s raining the day you’re brought home. To your new home. You’ve been chosen by a man with kind eyes to keep his other hybrid company while he works. He smells nice and he’s gentle when handling you so you’re more than amenable to joining his little family. Ark is his name, kinda funny but you think it’ll be super easy to remember since it rhymes with bark— something you’re very good at when called for (not that good pups bark a lot). 

He talks to you on the drive from the adoption agency to his home, explaining his routine and describing the dogman you’ll be living with from now on as well. Ark even shows you a picture of Leon on his phone while you’re stopped at a redlight, making your tail wag in excitement at meeting the rugged looking hybrid. 

In shy, halting words, you tell him about your short stint at the adoption agency. Raised with only caretakers, they finally gave you over to the agency fairly recently in the hope of finding you a forever home. You’ve experienced nothing but kindness and understanding with the outside world which might make you a little naive; however, it does nothing to dilute how happy you are at the opportunity to have your very first owner. 

“Leon, we’re home!” Ark calls out into the empty foyer as he sets all of your things down on the floor. 

Your eyes are comically big as you take in everything around you, nose scenting the air and picking up a delicious smell that has you drifting further into the house. A gruff hum pulls your attention to the hybrid Ark had called Leon. 

You smile at him, tail wagging nonstop, “Hi!”

His lip curls in distaste but he only stares you down without saying anything. 

“Leon,” Ark’s voice lilts in warning, “be nice.”

Leon rolls his eyes with a snort, but walks closer to you.

“Hello,” he grits out and your tail wags harder. 

“It’s so nice to meet you,” you smile even bigger. 

“Get along, okay?” Your owner ruffles your ears and you turn your bright smile to him. 

Nodding, you hum in agreement. Ark shoots another stern look to Leon and walks off further into the house. 

“You smell nice,” you offer up to the serious dogman in front of you, “I’ve never smelled anyone as good as you before.”

A red flush bridges his nose and cheeks as he shrugs, “Yeah, right.”

You pout, “I mean it. Can I scent you?”

His body stiffens in place as his look shifts from disbelief to sheer surprise. 

“Uh, I guess—“

“Great!” You walk forward until your chests are nearly touching, “I’ve only ever done this with my litter mates, so I’m unsure on how to scent someone else.”

You can see Leon swallow as he tilts his head, “Oh? You smell like a kennel.”

You laugh, missing his gaze raking down your body, “Yeah, I’ve been waiting on our owner for a day and they keep us in a kennel so nothing happens before the adoption.”

Leon nods although you’ll come to find later that his adoption was much rougher and less pleasant than your own experience. 

You lean forward and bury your nose against his neck, whimpering when you can smell him unencumbered. You breathe in freshly mown grass and a spicy musk that has your mouth watering. Snuffling against him, you don’t realize you’re rolling your hips against his. 

Leon hands grip your hips but he only helps you rock yourself against him in a way that makes you whine and pant against his skin. Distantly, you feel his nose press against your neck and breathe in your own scent. He growls and you whine, tilting your head so he can nip and lick at your soft skin. 

With a low growl, Leon pries himself away from you even as you chase after the pleasurable feeling coursing through your body. 

“Behave, pup,” he murmurs in your ear and you let him pull away. 

“Leon,” you whine at him, pawing his chest as you watch him close his eyes and take a steady breath. 

“I need to go find our owner, stay here,” he walks you over to the couch and presses you down on the soft cushions.

When you go to rise as he steps back he holds his hand out.

“Stay. Be a good girl for me.”

You go hot all over, “Okay.”

His eyes darken but he turns and leaves the room, bringing Ark back after a few minutes.

“I feel hot,” you slur out, eyes pleading up at the men in front of you.

Leon stands behind Ark, stiff as a board while he watches. 

“Poor thing,” Ark soothes, softly rubbing your ears, “looks like Leon may have triggered an early heat.”

You sigh as Ark gently massages your ears and temples.

“Leon, can you take the rest of her things up to her room? I’ll carry her up and we’ll let her rest,” your owner says over his shoulder and your eyes track Leon as he leaves the room. 

“I want—“

“I know,” Ark sighs, “but let’s get you settled in and some meds in you. Tomorrow you’ll feel better.”

“M’kay,” you mumble, slumping into his chest as he picks you up bridal style. 

You feel him set you on a soft bed and coax you to swallow some icky tasting medicine before allowing you to drift off to sleep. At some point in the night, that delicious smell from earlier seeps into your brain and has you maneuvering until your face is buried in a warm chest. A low pleased rumble makes you press the dough of your thighs together as you sink deeper into sleep. 

The next morning you wake up to the door opening. 

“Leon,” Ark’s voice sighs out, “I thought I told you to let her rest.”

Arms snake out to wrap around your back and pull you further into the warm body in front of you. 

“I was here in case she needed something,” the dogman’s rough voice sent goosebumps skating across your skin. 

Ark’s palm brushes across your ears and you giggle and turn in Leon’s arms to look up at your owner. 

“Are you feeling better?” His brown eyes pinch with worry. 

“Much better,” you smile, “just a little tired.”

Ark’s eyes crinkles when he smiles in relief, “Good. I’ll let you rest some more. Leon can help you if you need anything.”

Your owner ruffles first your ears then Leon’s before slipping back out of the bedroom, closing the door behind him. Feeling shy, you shimmy away from Leon and climb out of bed. 

“Thank you for looking out for me,” you tug on a loose thread on your shirt.

He grunts in acknowledgment and you look over into his face. His blue eyes stare you down for a split second before he climbs out of bed as well. 

“Yeah, well s’only the right thing to do,” he mutters, “make sure to take those meds.”

He jerks his head to the nightstand behind you and you see that Ark must have brought up medicine and water when he checked in on you. 

“I will,” you nod, smiling at the grumpy dogman as he brushes his hair back, “thanks, Leon.”

“Don’t mention it,” he waves you off, following in Ark’s footsteps as he slips out of your room. 

You quickly take the heat suppressants and smile to yourself. It’s nice having a friend. Crawling back into bed, you shove your face in the pillow Leon used and sigh happily. He just smells so good! Your tail thumps against the bed as you breathe in his scent more. A small whine parts your lips as your cunt grows hot and wet, clit throbbing as the smell of fresh grass and spice fill your nose. 

You can’t help yourself as your fingers slip beneath the band of your underwear to tease across your slit. Panting against the pillow, you hump your fingers and let yourself pretend they were bigger and thicker. It doesn’t take long for you to cum, slick coating your hand along with the gusset of your panties. A yawn overtakes you and before you can get up to change, you fall asleep with your face buried in Leon’s scent. 

After that weird welcome home, Leon pretty much keeps to himself. When Ark’s around, he’s nearby, but acts aloof and distant if you try to befriend him. You’re really bummed out, and you don’t want him to snap at you like he did at the neighbor’s hybrid, a nice boy named Steve, so you just try to be polite and stay out of his way. You’re pretty much glued to your owner’s side anyways. He smells almost as good as Leon, like fresh coffee and leaves, so you’re constantly trying to sit in his lap. 

Leon always snarls his lip when he sees you snuggled up to Ark, letting him pet your ears and tail while he watches tv or reads. The first time you offered to move so Leon could get his ears rubbed, he turned his nose up and sat on the other side of the room; since then, you ignore him and happily enjoy Ark’s soft head pats.

But, every now and then, Leon does something nice that makes your heart flutter and leads you to think he likes you more than he shows. Falling asleep on the couch and then waking up in your bed, seeing your favorite food already prepared for lunch, or even simple chores being done before you get to them. Those little things have you seeking him out in thanks, but he always waves you away with a gruff word paired with a small blush on his cheekbones. 

One day, you come home from your walk with Ark only to smell someone new. Your ears perk up as your owner chuckles and gestures for you to walk on into the house while he takes off his shoes. Quickly beelining to the living room where the smell is stronger (a nice blend of sandalwood and vanilla), you stop in place to see Leon laughing at something another dogman is saying. 

“Oh, hello,” you give a shy wave to the two sitting on the couch. 

Leon glances over at you, eyes darting from you to the hybrid next to him. The stranger gives you a wide smile, drawing your eyes to his heavily stubbled jaw. 

“Hi, I’m Chris, you must be Leon’s new pup,” he grins over at the quiet dogman. 

You feel a flush of warmth spread throughout your chest from his words.

“She’s not my pup,” Leon mutters under his breath, but you still hear it making your smile a little dimmer. 

Chris ignores his friend and pats the spot open to his left, “Sit next to me so I can get to know you.”

You nod your head and walk a wide half circle to avoid being in Leon’s space to sit on the couch beside Chris. Quickly taking in his appearance, your tail wags when he smiles at you again. 

“I’ve been meaning to come over for a while. If I’d have known Leon had such cute company, it would’ve been sooner,” he angles his head to wink at you and one of his ears tilts back. 

Smiling, you shrug, “Well maybe you can visit more now. I love making new friends.”

Chris laughs and it causes your tail to thump against the couch. Unbeknownst to you, Leon tenses and elbows Chris in the ribs. 

“Well, as much as I’d love to stay, I’m pretty sure my owner is looking for me by now,” Chris lumbers to his feet and you have to crane your neck to keep eye contact.

“I’ll see you to the door,” Leon stands next. 

You wave while Leon practically steers Chris out of the room. 

“It’s nice meeting you,” Chris calls out before rounding the corner. 

“You too!” You move from the living room to watch Leon close the door behind his friend. 

“He’s nice,” you offer, smiling at the dogman. 

Leon grunts, “Chris is okay.”

You pause, not really understanding why Leon seems upset with you. 

“If-if you want to hang out alone with him, I can ask Ark to take me for walks when he visits,” you fiddle with your shirt hem, “I don’t want to get in your way or anything.”

Leon doesn’t say anything and you nod, slipping off to your room. Your chest hurts with disappointment leading you to curl up in a ball in the center of your bed, falling into a fitful sleep. Later the snick of your door shutting has you raising your head up, eyes slowly adjusting to the figure walking to your bed. 

“Leon?” Your voice rasps with sleep. 

“Yeah,” he whispers, kneeling on your bed before shifting until he can lay down, pulling your back to his chest, arms encircling your waist.

You stiffen against him, confused as to what he’s doing there. 

“I’m sorry,” he presses the words against your ear, “I’ve been pretty rude to you and it’s nothing you’ve done. From here on out, I’m gonna treat you better.”

You hum happily, “Thanks, Leon.”

“Can I sleep in here tonight?”

“Sure,” you yawn, sleep already tugging your eyelids closed, “‘m happy we’re friends.”

“Friends,” he laughs to himself, “right.”

Weeks go by and Leon is true to his word. He’s more friendly and hangs around you even without Ark being around. He’s also way more touchy feely to your delight. Constantly scent marking you before you leave the house on your walks, going so far as to let you borrow his clothes if Ark is taking you to the park or even out while he shops. 

It makes those butterflies in your chest swarm and your heart beat fast whenever he does those kinds of things. And since he never asks for his shirts back, you wear them to bed, hands tucked into your panties as you breathe in his scent and get yourself off. You would feel a bit bad, but you see how Leon stares at you the next day—like he can smell the effect he has on you and it makes your skin buzz. 

There’s no telling how long this would have gone on, but luckily for you, Ark forgot to refill your meds and he’s out for the night, leaving you and Leon home alone. You truly only meant to tease the handsome dogman, make him feel as out of sorts as you do when he’s around; however, you didn’t realize how much being off of your medicine would affect you. 

Just being next to him on the couch as you watch television is making your palms sweat and your nipples hard. Trying to sit still is impossible. The more you shift around, the more uncomfortable you are until Leon’s hand comes down on your thigh like a hot brand on your skin. Whimpering, you press the dough of your thighs together, squishing his fingers in between the soft skin. 

“What’s gotten into you?” His low voice rumbles through your ears making your cunt leak into your panties. 

Not thinking it through, you sit up into a kneel and clamber onto his lap. 

“It’s hot,” you whine, grinding yourself down onto him, “want you to make me feel better, Leon.”

“Wha—“

You swivel your hips and feel his cock thicken underneath your ass, pressing against the seam of your shorts and making your eyelashes flutter. 

With a groan, Leon grabs your hips to stop them from bouncing down on his bulge. 

“Sweetheart—“

His voice dips out into a low moan as you lap at a sensitive spot on his neck before licking the shell of his ear. You feel his cock twitch and kick against your clothed pussy and it makes you whine. 

“B-bad girl,” he hisses, head falling back against the couch, ears flopping, “bad girl, bad p-puppy, oh fuck.”

You nip his bottom lip before messily licking into his mouth, grinding down on his thick cock as he leaks enough precum to stain his sweats. 

“Puppy, stop,” he groans, “we can’t, oh god, you need your meds and Ark—“

“He’s out with friends,” you pout, rocking your hips just right so your clit rubs against the seam of your shorts sending a sharp zing through your body, “and I don’t have any more medicine.”

“You never listen,” he growls and your tail droops. 

You let out a surprised squeal when Leon shifts off the couch to press you down into the floor. 

“Need me to stuff your pussy, huh?” he bites your ear, making you whimper, “‘m gonna be the only one sniffing around your greedy little cunt.”

Your eyes roll back when he dry humps your pussy, grinding the thick outline of his cock right against your wet slit. 

“First I wanna see if you taste as good as you smell,” he kisses you heatedly before moving down your body. 

He slips your shorts off and tosses them across the living room. Leon buries his nose between your legs, sniffing across your soaked panties. The fabric sticks to your chubby pussy lips allowing Leon to lick at your clit easily. 

“Oh, oh,” you moan, hands reaching down to tangle in his hair, softly rubbing over his fuzzy ears.

He grunts and laps up the slick leaking down your thighs before pushing your panties to the side to lap at your hole. 

“Taste so good,” his muffled voice causes vibrations that make your toes curl, “mmm could eat your little cunt all day.”

“Leon, please,” you hump against his mouth, eyes locked on his blown out gaze.

He hums and the vibrations make your clit tingle as more slick drips onto his tongue. The thick muscle slides in and out of your hole before he licks his way back up to your clit, softly sucking the swollen bud into his mouth. Your thighs tremble as his rough sandpaper tongue swirls around your pudgy clit before sucking it gently. 

“So good,” you whimper, thighs falling open as far as they can go while your tail wags, “Leon.”

He growls, tongue fucking your pussy until sloppy wet sounds fill the room. His broad hands grab underneath your knees to shove your legs up to your chest. Pulling back, you moan as he spits on your cunt quickly followed by him burying his face against your soaked pussy. His rough stubble makes you squeal and pant while he licks and sucks your pussy lips. 

“So soft and wet, pup,” he grunts, pulling back to finally shed himself of the rest of his clothes. 

He strokes his cock to take the edge off and your mouth waters at the precum beading at the tip. With a groan, he notches the tip against your hole and glides the fat head up to smack against your clit. He presses his hips flush against you and you whine, the feel of the blood hot skin of his cock pulsing against your pussy. 

“Look how deep it’s gonna reach, pup,” his voice rumbles low in his chest, making your nipples ache.

He uses his thumb to press his tip down against your skin as your bleary eyes take in how far his cock will be inside your needy cunt. 

“Oh god, Leon, s’too big,” you mewl, ears lying flat against your skull. 

With a warm chuckle, he pulls his cock back to slide across your pudgy bud, grinding the head against your sensitive clit until you’re whining and dripping slick onto the carpet. His cock presses into your pussy making you moan reedily, voice breaking into a gasp. 

He chuffs and gently bites the side of your neck, rocking his cock another inch into your clenching hole. 

“Pussy’s just small, honey,” he coos softly, sandpaper tongue licking up to the shell of your ear, “gotta stretch her out so you can take my knot.”

Your walls clench down on his dick making his hips stutter. His eyes darken and he pulls completely out. 

“How about we make it easier for this soft little cunt?”

Without letting you answer he flips you over into your hands and knees, one palm pressing down in the middle of your back and the other gripping your hip to raise your ass up. He slides in much easier in this position, bottoming out with a loud groan as you claw at the floor. 

Mewling, you press your ass backwards, working more of Leon’s thick cock into your dripping pussy. 

“Wan’ it,” you slur, nails digging into the plush carpet, “want your knot, Leon.”

He growls and buries his cock to the hilt inside your cunt making you cry out from the sudden stretch. Your walls clamp and pulse around his fat dick while you catch your breath.

“Good girl,” he whispers into your ear, making you shiver all over, “such a good pup for me.”

“Leon,” you whimper, pussy walls fluttering around his thick length as he slowly ruts into you.

He groans and pulls halfway out before bullying his dick back into your sopping wet hole. 

“Fuck, you’re perfect,” he bites your shoulder, canines digging into your skin, “perfect pussy, made for me aren’t you, honey?”

 “Uh huh,” you gasp out your agreement, voice not wanting to work as Leon pounds your cunt hard enough you’re getting rug burn on your knees. 

He grips the base of your tail and pulls, making you scream— pussy fluttering and pulsing around his dick as your orgasm takes you both by surprise. 

“Good girl,” he coos, dropping your tail to grip the fat of your ass with both hands, “so good, gripping me so tight with that little pussy, working for that knot like a good pup.”

Shuddering, your body trembles as Leon keeps thrusting his fat cock right against your g-spot as the tip kisses your cervix. Drool spills from your mouth as you heave in deep breaths. 

“Want you to cum one more time, pretty girl,” he lightly spanks your ass making you whine, “one more and I’ll knot this pretty pussy til she’s nice and full. Don’t you want that? For your hot cunt to be bred til you’re stuffed to the brim?”

“Please, please, Leon,” you mumble, ass bouncing back against his thrusts, “want your knot, please, want it so bad.”

One of his hands dip below your abdomen to circle the swollen bundle of nerves coated in your slick. Your pussy clamps down on his dick as he softly teases your clit. 

“Oh that’s it, right there,” he kisses your neck, tongue lapping against your sweaty skin, “can feel you getting tighter. Cum for me, let me feel it.”

As Leon keeps hammering into your pussy, his fingers circle and tease across your pudgy bud until one last thrust has your orgasm whiting out your vision. Your ears ring so loud you don’t even hear as Leon curses against your neck while he snaps his hips against your ass before burying his cock deep in your spasming pussy. 

You wail when his knot locks you together, stretching your cunt even further as you feel his hot thick cum spill inside. 

“So good for me,” Leon groans, hands smoothing over your sides and back, “perfect, so fucking perfect.”

You sigh gustily, body going limp as Leon continues to fill your pussy with load after load from his thick cock. He shifts until you’re both able to lay on your sides comfortably, hands petting your body gently. 

“Feels nice,” you mumble, relaxing even further against him.

“Good,” he kisses the back of your head, “once I can pull out, wanna run you a bath. Gonna take care of you.”

Preening, you smile although he can’t see it, “That sounds so good.”

It’s quiet and relaxing as you bask in Leon’s soft touches and praise. As soon as he slips out of your sore cunt, he scoops you up into his arms and carries you into the bathroom. Setting you down on the edge of the tub, Leon works the taps and fills it with comfortably warm water.

Once he settles down in the basin, he maneuvers you to sit with your back to his chest. His warm hands rub at your arms and shoulders. 

“Let me know if you’re sore anywhere,” he kisses your temple. 

His softness is making your clit throb, loving how Leon treats you. 

After he works your arms and shoulders, he shifts down to your thighs. You moan low in your throat. 

“What if I’m sore here?” You bite your lip and grab one of his hands to shift it to your clit. 

He chuckles causing goosebumps down your body. 

“Oh? Need this fat pussy rubbed?” he slips his fingers down your slit before circling back up to your clit, “is she really sore, honey? 

“So sore,” you mewl, slumping against his chest as he teases across your swollen clit.

It doesn’t take long for his rough fingers to work another orgasm from you, pussy clenching around nothing as your clit throbs underneath his fingertips. 

“So fucking good,” he turns your head to kiss you messily, tongue licking into your mouth as spit drips down your chin.

Leon finishes washing you both off before helping you stand, wrapping a fuzzy towel around you before emptying the bath. Feeling extra sleepy, you don’t put up a fuss as Leon guides you into his room. Helping you slip under his covers, you sigh as Leon’s scent surrounds you. 

“Goodnight,” he kisses the side of your mouth making you turn and pout your lips for a kiss. 

Chuckling, he kisses you gently, running his thumb across one of your ears. 

“Goodnight, Leon,” you smile sleepily, snuggling into his chest. 

[messylustt]

am on my knees for jealous/possessive!Hobie x reader? maybe he’s a lil mean at first but by the end he’s very soft 🥺 <3

god I have a weakness for possessive and clingy men— shit

JEALOUS BOY — hobie brown + reader: hobie is a little jealous over the new recruit and how nice you’re being with him.

marks jealous!hobie; kinda bad representation of his iconic accent; poor new peter :( cute lil kiss and confession. wc 1.7k.

Hobie’s gaze was narrowed, the most focused he thinks he’s been, as he watches you speak with the new recruit. You’re smiling at something he’s said, as you then begin to laugh. Stop laughing. Not for him.

Hobie swiftly moves towards you both, swinging his arm over your shoulder as you turn your head. “Hey, babe.” He grins, seeing your small smile.

But you shrug him off, gesturing to the new recruit. “Peter, Hobie.” You gesture from Hobie. “Hobie, Peter.”

“So, another one ov’ ya.” Hobie eyes this new Peter, with a harder gaze.

“Oh, so this is Hobie?” New Peter says, making Hobie shift his gaze to you.

“Ya talked ‘bout me?” Hobie spares you a side smile, as he bumps your shoulder.

“I said like one thing.” You scoff, crossing your arms.

“Mhm, what?” Hobie felt a little calmer after hearing that he was mentioned in your conversation. You look away, shaking your head. “Aw…ya goin’ all shy now?” He fake pouts, poking your side.

You slightly jolt, shifting your gaze to him. “I only said how loud your guitar can be. And that Peter should be wary of it.” You say, walking closer to said Peter. “Come on, I’ll show you to Spider-byte, she’s knows a shit tonne bout this place…” your voice drifted off as you brought new Peter down the path.

Hobie’s smile had dropped when you began walking away from him. But he focuses on the fact that new Peter will be gone from your side once the walk around was over. He held onto that fact.

;;

Which turned into not a fact at all. Because when he knew that your little tour would be over he still saw new Peter by your side. Oh no, no. Hobie didn’t like that one bit. So he yet again finds himself by your side, snatching some food off your plate, as he fluidly swings one leg over the bench.

“So, I take it you two are friends?” New Peter asks, shifting his gaze between you and Hobie.

“Eh.” You shrug, to which Hobie grabs your wrist—which held the food you were gonna put in your mouth—as he brings it to his mouth instead. “Hey!” But he keeps your wrist close as his lip ring slightly brushes the tips of your fingers, eating the entire thing, as he leans back, raising his brows.

“Don’t say ‘eh’.” He imitates you, hooking his arm back around your shoulder, pulling you closer to him—his legs still spread over the bench, meaning that your side ended up right against his chest. He looks back to new Peter, making his arm over your body a clear statement to him. “Yeah, we’re friends.”

New Peter finally notices Hobie’s hard expression, as his smile slightly drops, but then you’re directing his attention back to you. “And he’s an annoying little British boy. Trust me.”

Hobie shifts his gaze back to you, grabbing your chin to look at him. “‘Lil Bri’ish boy’?” He quotes in disbelief.

“Annoying little British boy.” You correct, managing to slide back across the bench and out of his grasp. “So, make sure not to get caught up in his web.” You chuckle, as new Peter joins, looking back to you.

“Ya makin’ me sound like a spide—oh.” Hobie realises, giving you a look. “Ya real funny, babe.”

You give him a teasing smile, as you continue to eat, going back to your conversation with the new Peter. God, would you stop talking to him? It wasn’t required anymore, so why were you? Did you like him? Hobie hoped you didn’t plan to make a new friend. And certainly not make something more.

;;

It happened again. You were with him again. Hobie watched as you stood beside new Peter, talking again.

You were all there for a mission debrief. But that didn’t mean you had to stand so close. Hobie promptly reaches you, jaw clenched as he caught new Peter’s gaze. “New Peter, hey man. How’s ya first few days been?” Hobie’s words a sickly sweet, making new Peter gulp.

“His name’s just Peter.” You say, glancing at Hobie who stands right beside you. Hobie shifts his gaze to you, in slight disbelief. Oh, so you were defending him now.

“It’s okay, and I’m pretty good, thanks Hobes.” New Peter smiled, all innocent.

“Only she can call me that, mate.” Hobie states, gesturing to you, as he yet again eyes him with disdain.

“Hobie.” You quietly hiss. “Sorry, Peter. Clearly a rough day.” You glance at Hobie with narrowed eyes. He narrows his back. “What—ya switch names? He can call me ‘Hobie’, and you…” he gently tapped your shoulder. “…you can call me ‘hobes’.”

You sigh, grabbing Hobie’s arm, as you spare new peter a small smile. Hobie let’s you drag him away, as you spin, arms crossed.

“I told him it was fine. I’m sorry, I thought you wouldn’t have minded.” You say, glancing back at new Peter, but Hobie quickly brings your head back to face him. Stop looking at him—he thinks to himself.

“Why?”

“Oh come on, he’s new.” You say. “I thought he could use some friends. And you’ve always been very welcoming. You were with me.”

“Yeah, but you’re…you.” Hobie glances over at new Peter who does look a tad nervous as he listens to the debrief. “And come on…him?”

“Yes, him.” You say. “Where’d nice Hobie go?”

“He’s gone.” He says, looking back to you. “If ya keep takin’ to him, tha’ is.”

“Hobie what’s your problem with him?”

“Is it really that hard not talkin’ to him?” Hobie crosses his arms, raising his brow.

“Again…” you sigh. “What’s your problem?”

“No problem.” Hobie shrugs. “Just don’t talk to him. That simple.”

“You’re missing the reason there, Hobes.” You say, with a raise to your own brows.

He slightly smiles, a slight tilt to his head. “At least that means you’re not mad at me.”

“What? Yes I am.” You narrow your gaze, just as Hobie lazily swings his arms atop your shoulders, moving closer to do so as he leans towards your height.

“Nah. Ya called me ‘hobes’.” He’s grinning now.

You scoff. “I can say ‘hobes’ and still be mad at you. Also when were you ever so caught up on names?”

“When you started talking to Mr. Basic over there.” He glances at new Peter. You hit Hobie’s stomach, making him slightly double over.

“Stop being an ass.” You begin to walk back over to new Peter, but Hobie swiftly wraps his arms around your neck and shoulders, your back hitting his front, making you slightly jolt.

“Nah…” Hobie says to your ear, making a small shiver run down your spine. “You can stay with me this mission.”

“You’re not even in this mission.” You say, as his hands begins to fiddle with the material of your suit, arms still wrapped around you. “And when did you get so clingy?”

“Clingy?” Hobie scoffs. “I’m not being clingy.”

“Then why are you draped over me like some sort of koala?” You ask, reaching to pull him off you.

“What was tha’ thing ya said before?” Hobie keeps you close. “Trapped in my web?”

You lick your teeth in slight annoyance as he just smirks. “Just making it clear you’re trapped.”

“Ha you’re funny.” Your sarcasm is clear.

“I know I am. Now come on.” Hobie slides his hand down to yours, grabbing it and bringing you towards the new opened portal.

;;

“God he’s insufferable.” Hobie states. You had just finished your mission, and are both walking through the lobby.

“I really can’t find the reason why you’re so annoyed. It’s making me annoyed.” You say, brushing some dirt off your thigh.

Hobie looks down, moving your hand away so he can pick the rest off. You eye him. “Is this a dare or something?”

Hobie looks back up at you. “What?”

“Being this touchy and stuff.” You say. “I mean you’ve always been one to throw your arms round someone’s shoulders. But not all this.” You raise your brows, expecting an answer.

He just shrugs. “I like you.”

“Your reasons are vague as hell, hobes.” You say, poking his chest slightly. But as you do so, Hobie grabs your hand, yanking you closer.

“I…like…you.” He says this slower, making you meet his gaze. “And new Peter is in my way.”

“What?” Your brows furrow as you stare at him.

“You keep talkin’ to him.” Hobie further says, as you try and wrap your mind around the implications of his words.

“You’re making it sound like i can’t talk to anyone.” You force a chuckle, making sure this isn’t some sort of prank.

Hobie just holds your hand tighter as his gaze darts across your face, for once—serious. “If they look like they like you…no.”

“I…” you drift off, cause you don’t really know what you were gonna say. “Peter doesn’t like me.”

“You sure?” Hobie asks, and finally the whole situation clicks, all your denials fizzling away. Hobie like likes you. You stare at Hobie, mouth slightly opening.

“You…like me?” You slowly ask.

“I thought I already said tha’?” Hobie can’t help his little side smile from appearing at your cute shocked expression. “I thought I was bein’ painfully obvious too. I guess there isn’t much goin’ on in that pretty head o’ yours.” He taps under your chin, with a teasing tone.

You press your lips together, praying you’re not looking flushed. But of course Hobie notices. “Look at ya…ya all shy.” He brings you closer. “It’s cute.”

Then your gaze is dropping down to his lips, back and forth as your heart beats a fraction harder. Then before you can chicken out, you quickly reach forward and peck his lips.

Hobie blinks as you back away, moving to speed walk away. But then Hobie is smiling, effortlessly pulling you back as his lips find yours, this time a little longer, a little harder. His lip ring sends shivers through you as it contrasts with his warm tongue, eagerly exploring your mouth.

His hands have slipped to cup your neck and face, as he began to smile against your lips. You manage to slightly lean your head back. “You were jealous…” You say, an almost smug smile forming.

“Don’ start.” Hobie mutters, bringing your lips back to his.

© messylustt.tumblr please don’t steal, copy or translate my work onto other platforms.

[wonnieluv]

Your Eyes Only

Summary: When your man has a million fans but there are some moments for your eyes and your eyes only

Jungwon x reader

Warnings: fluff fluff fluffy fluff, angst if you squint with 3D glasses on

masterlist

“…and then I turned around and the only thing I saw was Jay hyung attempting to chase Riki around the dressing room while the stylist noona was trying to do his hair”. Your boyfriend can barely contain his laughter as he recalls some of his funny stories from tour.

Jungwon got back to Korea from the first half of the Japan leg of their Fate+ tour yesterday evening and he’ll have to leave in 2 more days to go do more overseas work. When he’s busy like this (when is he not), he’ll do the best he can to visit you at night. You’ve become accustomed to your date nights just being ramen found in your cupboards or takeout Jungwon orders for you after he gets out of the company building followed by whatever you can think of to entertain yourselves in your small apartment.

Sometimes that’s a movie or drama you both agree on but most of the time whatever you do ends up with the two of you cuddling in your comfy bed. This time in particular you’re laying on your back with Jungwons head on your chest as you play with his hair as he tells you any and everything he hasn’t had the chance to say through text or over the phone while he was away.

“Hmm” you respond to his story of their dressing room chaos.

“Baby, you alright?” He asks with worry in his tone from your lack of response as he looks up at you. “Don’t worry won I’m just a bit tired” you say, your statement followed by a yawn.

Jungwon doesn’t say anything as he gets up from your bed. You’re too tired to question what he’s up to but your eyes still follow as he effortlessly crosses your room to turn the lights out before joining you back in bed. This time he lays your head on his chest as he begins to play with your hair gently as you did for him.

“You didn’t have to stop you know. I love hearing your stories” You break the comfortable silence, obvious sleep beginning to take over.

“We’ll have all the time in the world someday to tell stories. For now go to sleep my love, I’ll do my very best to be here when you wake up”. Deep down it hurt that he couldn’t promise you that but you were so tired and all you wanted to do was let everything float away in his arms so you bury that feeling and hug him just a bit tighter as your brain drifts off to sleep.

It may have been your sleep filled brain but you could’ve sworn you heard him whisper “one day I’ll be there every night when you fall asleep and every morning when you wake up my love” before leaving a peck on your forehead.

Whether it was real or not, the promise of that day keeps you going as you support him through his tight schedule. And he falls in love with you more and more every day for it.

What do we think. This was kinda rushed 😔

[rotthepoet]

Invisible String Theory (Anon!Slytherin Boy x Reader)

Chapter 4

warnings; NSFW, Stalking behavior, violence and self-inflicted injury(punching a wall), dumbification for like three sentences, some boys beef, reader has a panic attack, like kinda cliffhanger?

ﾟ+*:ꔫ:*﹤

To Whom It May Concern,

Please leave me alone. 

Regards.

The folded letter sits on the mantle of the Slytherin common room fireplace. It taunts me. The soft, orange flicker casts long shadows over the room. Like a kid expecting Saint Nick, I wait. Patiently. Even as my eyes drift shut, exhaustion claiming my body, I prevail. Just a glimpse. Just a moment of eye contact. To know, to see, to end. A yawn racks through my body, and I stretch my arms above my head, my back popping.

Pinned.

A shrill shriek escapes me when a strong grip pins my wrists together above my head, and as soon as the scream leaves my lips, I’m released. Panic surges through my body, goosebumps plaguing my skin with a cold shiver, I stand suddenly and whip around to find–

Theodore.

It’s just Theo.

He has a sheepish look on his face, and he moves around the couch to gently lead me back to sitting, settling in beside me. He watches me lean back against the overstuffed cushions, releasing a deep sigh of relief.

“I’m sorry, I thought it was going to be funny.”

“No, no, it was. I’m just on edge,” I assured him, and shut my eyes, just for a moment.

Nott rests a hand on my knee, a friendly gesture, as he starts to rub small, comforting circles on the skin. “It isn’t helpful to stay up and wait for… It. Let’s get you in bed,” He whispers, and I shake my head.

“Just a bit longer, it’s the principle of the matter,” I explain, sighing and opening my eyes again. My eyes lazily scan the common room, abnormally empty, which makes me wonder about the time. Theodore sighs beside me and clicks his tongue. He shakes his head at me and suddenly, his arms wrap underneath my knees and around my back, and I yelp as I’m lifted off the couch. I wrap my arms around Theodore for the safety of my life, kicking my legs in protest.

“Let’s get you to bed–”

“Am I interupting?”

Nott and I’s head both snap towards the sound of a new voice, and a tall body stands in the shadows. Theo’s grip tightens on me, and I can’t help but squeak as his fingers dig into the soft skin of my thighs. The figure steps forward, his hands in his pockets, built like an athlete with wide, strong shoulders. Silver light passes through the Black Lake into our windows, casting an otherworldly glow across his face, and onyx eyes meet mine. 

“Riddle, you scared me,” I let out a shaky breath, slowly dropping my leg to the floor despite Theodore’s best effort to hold onto me. Speaking of which, he looks particularly upset. Maybe he doesn’t like being scared as much as he likes to scare people. “Anyone else planning on jumping out tonight? So far, I have two-for-two,” I try to laugh, but it falls silent as I notice the electric glare between the two. Another spat, I assumed, nothing surprising despite their tight-knit friendship. 

“You aren’t writing back to him, right?” Mattheo asks me, glancing at the envelope on the mantelpiece. Sheepishly, I look away and rub my goosebump covered arm. “It isn’t really writing back to him if I’m asking him to leave me alone–” “Asking?” “Telling. Telling him to leave me alone.”

Theodore scoffs and his hand finds the small of my back. “Let’s go, it’s too late for this,” He suggests, but with the way he gently leads me away from Riddle leaves no room for argument. I cast a glance over my shoulder and mouth a good night, not wanting to further upset whatever Theodore is brooding over. 

“You shouldn’t talk to him anymore,” Theodore mutters, leading me to my dorm room.

“What?” I ask, brows furrowing at his comment, “Look, whatever petty little fight you two are having will blow over,” 

“Not this time,”

“You say that every time, Theo!” I groan in exasperation, “You can’t just tell me who to hang out with just because you’re mad at them!”

Nott grunts in frustration and drops his arm from my back, stopping in his tracks. “Fine. Since, you want to be stupid-”

“Stupid?”

“Did I stutter?” He snaps, and my stomach churns suddenly at his tone, “Since you want to be so stupid, you can figure this all out on your own. No, actually. Go to Riddle. See how far that gets you.” He practically snarls at me, his once welcoming eyes now an angry rapid waiting to drown me beneath its waters. His gaze is suffocating. Angry.

“Fine,” I snap right back at him, but my voice is more confident than I feel, “He’ll be more helpful than you!” 

A sickening crack. That’s all I heard as Nott slams his fist against the stone wall, and a gasp leaves my lips in pure shock. Loose rock crumbles to the floor, skidding across the dungeon floor.

Theodore grips his first, his chest heaving with labored breaths, and blood drips from his balled fist to the floor. Before I can say anything, he turns on his heel and stalks away, leaving me alone outside my door.

Anxiety and anger seep into my stomach, and my brows knit with frustration. I push open my door, scanning my room, and my stomach drops when I find a bouquet of fresh red roses laying atop a heart shaped box of what could only be chocolates. I turn on my heel, but Theo’s name gets caught on my lips as I try to call for him, and suddenly, I feel very, very unwell.

Shit.

ﾟ+*:ꔫ:*﹤

I sat next to Mattheo at breakfast out of spite. Maybe it’s petty, but as Mattheo rests his elbow comically against my shoulder, Theodore glares at us from across the table. Draco continues talking at Theodore, unaware of his complete lack of focus on the subject at hand. I make eye contact with him for a moment, just a moment, and it sends a cold chill down my spine.

My eye drifts down to Theo's wrapped fist and wrist, his fingers tapping rapidly on the wood of the table. His stormy eyes never leave me even as I turn my gaze away, Parkinson catching my attention with a call of my name. 

“You got mail,” Pansy hummed, passing out each morning parcel. My anxiety creeps back up my neck, and I swear I feel Theodore still staring at me as I carefully tear open a crisp envelope. My hands shake as I slowly pull the nauseatingly familiar paper out, now stained with a deep crimson, and I hold my breath as I open it.

~

To Whom It May Concern, My Darling Future Husband,

Please leave me alone. I’m so sorry for being an insufferable brat recently. I really miss you, and I love you.

Regards. Yours, even if I need my attitude fixed.

I want that written word for word in your next response, or I promise you won’t like what I do to you. This is your last warning.

Yours.

P.s. You aren’t thinking about taking this to the headmaster, are you? It wouldn’t work out for you, love. Don’t be stupid. I hate when you don’t use that clever little brain of yours. Although, I wonder what you would look like fucked dumb.

~

A sob catches in my throat and fear courses through my body. The letter itself reeks, metalic, copper. I curl over in place, feeling my heartbeat quicken exponentially as I wrap my arms around my own stomach. A wave of nausea washes over me like a tsunami, and tears fall from my eyes as they squeeze shut. 

The outside world drowns away, any commotion muffled into a distant buzz as my ears start to ring. I’m hyper aware of the hand placed on my back, and beyond the buzz I can almost make out the voices of the friends surrounding me. 

Hey.

My brain feels fuzzy, and it flickers from one worst case scenario to the other. Pins prick at my skin painfully, making tears fall harder from my eyes.

Hey. 

I try to steady my breathing, but I can’t help but gasp for air.

Hey.

Hey, Hey, Hey, Look at me, Look at me.

I don’t look though, I can’t look. My body feels too light as my thoughts drift away, and the last thing I feel is strong arms catching me as I fall over. 

[lilypadthaii]

idiot | suna rintarō

suna rintaro x reader :3 wc: 2.7k

tropes: unrequited love, childhood friends to lovers, kinda oblivious reader a/n: sunas probably ooc, i cant write nonchalant men srry. also NOT proofread so sorry if there r mistakes :p

you first met suna when you were both just 7 years old. you were introduced to him by the twins, who happened to be your neighbors at the time. 

the interaction didn’t feel like it was anything out of the ordinary, but looking back on it, maybe it was the start of it all. 

“hi! my name’s y/n l/n! i’ve heard a lot about you from tsumu and samu! let’s be good friends from now on, ‘kay?” 

what could he possibly do but accept? there was no way he could reject you, not with the toothy grin you flashed at him and the tight hug you enveloped him in right after. 

that was how he first got pulled into your orbit. 

from that point on, you, him, and the twins were practically inseparable. you went on adventures together everyday, catching bugs, riding your bikes, playing pranks on your parents, etc. 

while most of the time, it seemed as though he was just being dragged along, he couldn’t deny that he had fun. 

even though the twins were as annoying as ever, he didn’t actually mind you. he didn’t mind getting sneak attacked by your snowballs when it snowed in the winter, and he didn’t mind listening to you sing loudly and out of tune into the fan during the summer. 

to say the least, he found you bearable. 

he began noticing a change when he was 13, at the start of a new school year. the four of you hung out frequently, almost everyday during school hours and afterschool. yet, something had changed about the dynamic of this friend group that he couldn’t quite place.

maybe it was the way your gaze would linger on atsumu’s for longer than usual. maybe it was the way atsumu would trip over his words when you showed up. maybe it was the way it seemed like you and atsumu were slowly drifting away from him and osamu into you two’s own little world. maybe, just maybe, it was the way what used to be plans that were shared by the four of you became one on one hangouts between you and atsumu.

perhaps that’s why it didn’t shock him when you two announced that you were dating just a few weeks later. 

he couldn’t blame you for falling for him. after all, atsumu was charming, funny, talented, and treated you well. why wouldn’t you?

unfortunately, this fact didn’t stop the uneasy feeling that settled in his chest for weeks after. 

he passed it off as a side effect of the summer heat. 

when you were 15, you were arguing with atsumu almost everyday. most of the time it was just stupid stuff, like him being late to a date or leaving you on read. when he got more invested in volleyball, however, he began spending less and less time with you.

the arguments only got worse and worse. at some point, suna was sure you two were going to break up, but you never did.

one summer night, you two were eating ice cream at local convenience store. it was like any other conversation of you two’s at the time: you complaining about atsumu and him quietly listening. 

“what should i do, rin? he’s so frustrating… it doesn’t even seem like he’s wants to be with me anymore! all he ever talks about volleyball… i mean, does he even like ME anymore? maybe he’s just too busy for a relationship.”

he stared at the moon as he listened to you ramble. it was strangely beautiful tonight. he wanted to take out his phone and snap a picture, but he knew you’d get upset. 

“why don’t you just break up with him?”

he had interrupted you abruptly, so he expected you to reprimand him. instead, you went completely silent.

he turned to look at you, expecting an answer, but was surprised by what he saw. 

you were covering your face with your hands, but there was no way he could mistake the tears welling up in your eyes for anything else.

“i know, i mean, i’ve considered it so many times. i’m an idiot, i know, but i,” you blubbered, hiccupping as you spoke, “i don’t want to leave him.”

it was silent for a few seconds, and when you looked up at him, he was watching you carefully. 

“why?”

you looked down again and swallowed before replying. “because i love him, suna. i love him so much, i can’t imagine being without him. i know it might just be because i’m young and stupid, but i don’t want to give up on us.”

you were slightly startled by the comforting touch of his head on your head, patting you as if you were a pet. 

“things will work out. atsumu loves you too, he’s just an idiot. don’t doubt yourself, dumbass.”

you choked out a laugh as you wiped your tears. 

“thanks, rin. i’m so glad you’re my best friend.”

you gave him your signature toothy grin, and his heart did the thing, just as it always did when you smiled at him, and just as he always would, he’d brush it off as him being sick. man, he really needed to get this heart problem checked out.

even as you continued your rant about your incompetent boyfriend, suna wondered how, even with your puffy eyes and red nose, you managed to look like that. how the moonlight perfectly traced your features, as if gently kissing every aspect of your face.  

perhaps he’d known it for a while, but was in denial, that he felt something for you that a best friend shouldn’t. but what could he do? 

you were in love with atsumu, and this was an absolute. a fact of life, just like how humans needed air to live and the sky was blue. 

when you were 17, your relationship had gotten past the arguing stage and was relatively stable. you went every game of inarizaki’s that you could, cheering for them from the sidelines.

there was one particular game that stuck with suna. it was a victory in a difficult game against karasuno. 

after the game, he saw you running up to him, and spread his arms, ready to receive your hug. 

but it wasn’t him you were running to. it was atsumu. it wasn’t his hug to receive. it was atsumu’s. you ran past him, jumping into atsumu’s arms, and he spun you around as you congratulated him with kisses. 

he’d remember that moment forever, because it’d serve as a reminder that it would never be him, and that he shouldn’t ever get his hopes up.

when he was 18, he received a text from you that would end your 11 year friendship. you two had been distant for a while, so it shouldn’t have been too surprising. 

“hey, suna. we’ve been friends for so long, and it breaks my heart to do this to us, but i don’t think we should be friends anymore. atsumu doesn’t want me being too close to any guys, which is understandable, so i think it’s only right of me to do this. i’m sorry, and i wish you the best. i hope you’ll remember me as your best best friend :)”

he considered calling you, but stopped himself. what did he want from you? an explanation? you’d already given him one. there wasn’t anything he could do. 

he buried himself in volleyball to force himself to forget you, what you two had, or rather, what he had for you. it worked, for a while, until he received a sudden call from an unknown number on his 22nd birthday. 

he was out with his team, getting drinks at a bar. he probably would’ve declined, if not for the gut feeling that rose in his stomach when he saw the number. so he stepped out and answered.

“hello? ri- oops, suna, is that you?”

he swore he felt his heart rate accelerate as soon as he heard your voice through the speaker. 

“yeah, it’s me. is this y/n?” you’d gotten a new number, he noted. 

“yes, i know, this is sudden and weird, and i don’t want to intrude, but i know it’s your birthday, so i just wanted to say happy birthday. i hope you’re doing well. i know it’s not my place to say this, so i’m sorry-“

you were rambling, just as you always did when you were stressed or nervous. it made him a little happy, knowing you hadn’t changed.

“it’s okay,” he interrupted, “thank you for that. i’m doing well. how are you?”

he’d spend the next hour on the phone with you, catching up on your lives, until one of his teammates popped his head out of the restaurant and asked if he was coming back in.

“i’m definitely ruining your birthday night huh? i’m so sorry, i’ll let you get back to that. but, if it���s okay, would you like to meet up sometime? i’ll text you, if it’s okay?”

“yeah, sure.”

“happy birthday, rin!” was all he heard before you hung up. the nickname gave him a rush of nostalgia, one that warmed his insides.

he went back inside the bar with a stupid grin on his face that he couldn’t wipe off, one that would get him teased by his teammates for the rest of the night.

a week later, he finds himself in a cozy cafe near his house that he never knew existed, pretending to browse the weather app on his phone as he waits. 

he’s so nervous he doesn’t even notice you until you sit down directly in front of him, setting down your bag with dozens of clinking keychains attached. 

you laugh as you see him visibly startle. “it’s just me, suna. sorry i’m a little late. how long’ve you been waiting for?”

“just a few minutes, don’t worry.”

he pauses to take in your appearance. you’re as beautiful as ever. you seem more mature now (how stupid, you’re both adults now after all), but he can still see glimpses of your much younger self in the smile you give him. 

he snaps himself out of his trance when you speak up, “i know all i’ve been doing since we started talking again is apologizing, but i’m genuinely sorry, suna. i shouldn’t have done that to you. i threw away our friendship like it was nothing. i told myself it was for the better, that atsumu needed me, and i wanted to be the best girlfriend for him. but i’ve since realized how naive i was.” you pause, thinking back to your nearly ten year relationship. he sees something in your eyes he didn’t when you two were together, and suna can’t stop himself from asking. 

“are you two… still together?” 

you can almost laugh at how hesitant he sounds, like he’s trying not to step on a landmine. 

“no, we’re not. we broke up a year ago, and i’ve realized it was for the better.” when you see his questioning gaze, you continue, “i feel like most of our relationship, i was basically living for him. i centered my life around him. i lost friends and hobbies all for a guy who i know now cares more about volleyball than he could about anybody. i’m the biggest idiot in the world.” 

you feel the tears coming back to you, but you force them down. you’re here to apologize, not to make an even bigger fool of yourself.

“you’re not an idiot, y/n. you found something great, and you just wanted to treasure it. it’s his fault he couldn’t appreciate that.”

as he says this, he gives you an adoring smile, as if saying he thinks you’ve hung the moon and stars, and you feel your heart swoon a little at the sight. 

“do you.. accept my apology? i know we might not be able to go back to the way we were before, but can we at least be friends again? as selfish as this may seem, i miss what we had, suna.”

“i’m sorry, i don’t think i can do that, y/n.”

a feeling of dejection washes you, but you do your best to quickly brush it off. 

“i understand. again, i’m sorry. i’m glad we had the chance to catch up, though. i should leave now-“

“you misunderstood. i can’t be just friends with you. the reason i wanted to catch up with you wasn’t so we could just be friends.”

the next words he says are the exact ones you never thought he’d say, let alone to you.

“i like you. no, i’m in love with you. it took a while to come to terms with, but i’ve been in love with you since we first became best friends. i thought i’d be able to act normal after seeing you again, that the feeling would fade, but it hasn’t. in fact, it’s only gotten stronger.”

suna thought he’d have trouble saying it, but as soon as it started, the words came out naturally, likely because the feelings he felt for you came just as naturally to him.

“now, if we’re going to be friends, i want it to be with the intention of becoming lovers in the future. i know you’re still getting over him, and you’re not ready, but if you ever think you are and you want to give me a chance, i’m right here.”

“i always have been,” he adds.

you’re speechless, and you swear you feel like your heart is pumping at 200 mph. you’d be lying if you said before you began dating atsumu, you’d never seen him as a potential partner, but that was so long ago and you were just a kid.

“oh. i’m- what? sorry, i’m just really surprised. i don’t know what to say, suna.”

“that’s alright. i’m not expecting anything right now, but in the future, if you’re looking for something, let me be the first option, yeah?”

that night, he feels like a heavy weight has been lifted off his heart. he goes to sleep thinking about how pretty you looked in the cafe.

a couple months later, you two go on your first ever date. it’s a picnic by the river near your house, and it just so happens to be on the day of a lantern festival. you both make wishes as you light your lanterns and set them into the water. he makes a quick wish that your wish will come true, and after he watches as you intently make yours. you look so cute, he can’t help but snap a picture. he should make that his lock screen, he decides.

he asks you out officially just a few months later. it happens during a romantic, candlelit dinner at his house. you’re a little drunk from the wine, so you start crying about how considerate he is and how much you like him, pulling him into a tight hug. he can’t wipe the stupid smile off his face as he comforts you.

one unsuspecting weekend, suna announces that he’ll be flying you out to one of his official volleyball games. it’s sudden, but you want to support him, so you don’t put up a fight. you’re sitting on the bleachers before the game begins, and it’s so crowded you can barely hear, but there’s no mistaking the way the announcer calls your name. you look at suna questioningly, and he gestures for you to come down. when you finally make it down onto the court, all his teammates are standing off to the side. as you get closer to suna, he smiles, and it’s so bright that you can’t help but smile back. 

he then gets down on one knee, and you swear your heart almost explodes on the spot. before he can finish his question, you jump on him, enveloping him in a hug that ends up with you on top of him on the ground. as the tears well up in your eyes, you watch as he slides the ring on your finger intently, and you realize you must have been an idiot to not notice him all this time.

divider source: cafekitsune!!

[minnimstar]

°Midnight Brownies°

pairing: Lee Felix x fem!reader

summary: You woke up late at night, expecting to find the comfort of your boyfriend in bed next to you. Unfortunately, you were left with nothing but an empty spot on the mattress. You got out of bed, thinking he was just in the bathroom, but you see the kitchen light on.

Masterlist

genre: fluff, comfort(kinda)

warnings: brief mention of nightmares, kisses, pet names(angel, babe, love)

The bedroom window was open, the night breeze softly moving the curtains every once in awhile. You turn over in the bed in hopes of being able to cuddle up next to your boyfriend, but to your surprise, you're met with an empty spot on the matress where your boyfriend used to be.

With a huff, you get out of bed and walk out of the bedroom, thinking he was just in the bathroom. However, just as your about to reach the bathroom, you see the kitchen light on from the other room. Sighing, you decided to go to the kitchen and are met with the sight of Felix, wearing an apron and whisking together a bowl of brownie ingredients. He had a splotch of batter on his face, but he still looked handsome.

Quietly, you walk up behind Felix, and you wrap your arms around him from behind and rest your chin on his shoulder and watch as he continues whisking the ingredients.

"What are you doing out of bed, lixie..?" You ask softly, pressing a kiss to his jaw. Felix smiles, and he sets the bowl down and wipes his hands so that he can turn around and hold you aswell. "Couldn't sleep.. had a nightmare." He mumbles, wrapping his arms around you aswell and kissing your cheek.

"Oh, I'm sorry.. do you want to talk about it?" You ask softly, looking up at Felix with a worried expression. Felix chuckles, and shakes his head. "I'm fine, Angel. We can talk about it later." You sigh, then nod. "If that's what you need."

Felix glances at the brownie batter still in the bowl, then back at you. "How about we finish these together, yeah?" You smile at the suggestion and nod, feeling happy that you can help Felix finish the brownies. "Of course!"

You grab the pan that was needed and put some parchment paper down on it, and Felix then dumps the brownie batter in before sticking it in the oven and sets the temperature and timer.

Felix washes his hands and dries them before walking up to you, and he placed his hands on your hips and connects his lips to yours in a kiss.

After a moment, he pulls back, a smile on his face. "How'd you sleep-" He's interrupted when you suddenly laugh, and he raises his eyebrows in amusement. "What's so funny, huh?" You smile, and wipe away the batter from his cheek and suck it off your thumb. "You still had some batter on your face." You say, smiling.

Felix's expression softened at your cuteness, and he pulls your hand away from your mouth so that he could kiss you again. "Thanks, love." Felix mutters against your lips, then picks you up in his arms and carries you back to bed.

Once you both reach the bedroom, Felix lays you down on the bed and pulls the duvet over your body. Not long after, the timer goes off for the brownies.

Felix perks up, and he smiles. "Give me a second, babe. The brownies are done! I gotta pull them out of the oven then I'll be right back." He then runs out of the room and heads toward the kitchen, and comes back after a few moments all cleaned up and the brownies resting on the kitchen counter.

Felix crawls onto bed and lays down beside you, and he looks at you for a moment before squishing you cheeks together and making you look at him. "I love you soooo much, Y/N. You're so adorable!" He cooes, before peppering kisses all over your face. You giggle uncontrollably, and start squirming around. "F-felix! Babe, seriously, stop!" You laugh, and Felix finally let's up after a couple more kisses.

Felix wraps his arms around you, and he presses a kiss to your cheek. "Sleep well, Angel." He mumbles softly. "You too, lixie.." You mutter back, and close your eyes before drifting off back to sleep.

[vhswolf]

It's not a goodbye | Lando Norris x Reader x Daniel Ricciardo

English is not my first language, sorry about any mistakes :)

Warnings: Voyeurism, being called a good girl, kinda sad beginning if you squint, smut, I think that's all

Daniel Ricciardo retired, he really did. I was way too sad about it, more than I should, specifically because he is just my boyfriend's friend. The problem is that he's my second favourite driver, and when I finally got to talk to him without blushing like crazy he will retire, that's not fair!

When Lando caught me crying on his drive's room after the Singapore grand prix, he didn't even need to ask what happened. He sat by my side and hugged me.

"Come on, love, his not dead, his retiring, we will see him again."

"I know, but I won't see him every other weekend, and he won't race." My voice was weak, Lando didn't know if he laughed or kept telling me everything was going to be OK, and I don't blame him, I feel fucking pathetic. "I'm stupid."

"You're spending too much time with Charles." He dried up my cheeks with his thumbs and made me look at him. "Look, it is a bit funny, I'm sorry, but I understand that you really like him. I don't know how you're dating me, not him." I furrowed my eyebrows, but before saying anything, Lando stopped me. "I'm not mad or jealous, don't worry. I'm just saying that I understand, but I promise you we're going to see him again." He kissed my forehead. "I'm gonna get you a water, you stay here and try to calm down a bit, OK?" I nodded slowly. "Great, love you."

"Love you more." He got up and walked out of the room. I took a deep breath, trying to calm down, but to be honest, I didn't have any more tears to cry, so I just hugged my knees and closed my eyes to rest a bit. I don't know when but a drift off to sleep, and woke up with someone calling me, when I opened my eyes I saw Daniel and Lando standing in front of me.

"Hey, you're fine?" Daniel asked, taking a few strands of my hair off my face. I nodded, still waking up. "You're really cute."

"I always tell her that, she never believes me, maybe now that her favourite boy is telling her that she will believe." Lan said in a playful tone. Danny sat by my side and Lan just stayed leaning against the wall looking at us.

"You should believe Lando, he has good taste." He opened a bottle of water he had in his hand and I didn't see before and gave it to me, I took it and drink a little bit. "I heard you're really sad I'm retiring." I nodded shyly and Danny smiled. "You don't need to be, come on, it's not like I'm going to give you some peace, I will FaceTime you every week to know all the latest gossip." Daniel looked at Lan that just nodded with a smile on his face. "That sounds good?"

"It does." I said, but I was still visibly sad, it wasn't the same. Danny sighed and picked me up and put me sat in his lap. I looked at Lan, but he was still calm like nothing just happened, but when he saw me looking at him, he came over and gave me a kiss before whispering to me.

"I'm fine with it, if you're fine with it." And then he sat where I was before. I took a deep breath and lay my head on Danny's shoulder into the comfortable feeling.

"It will be just fine." He put his hand on my waist, squeezing me again to him. I felt calmer right away.

"Promise?"

"Promise." It started on my waist, but he didn't limit it to just one place, his hand wondered my leg, my arm, and lastly my ass. I also could feel him getting harder and harder under my butt. I really don't know what is happening here, but I'm not mad, and knowing my boyfriend as I do, if he was jealous or mad we would've heard it. His wandering hand was now playing with the hem of my shirt and touching my skin underneath it. I heard Lan getting up and walking up to the door, my head involuntarily shoot up to look at him, see what he was doing and what I saw was Lando locking the door.

"What are you doing?" Lan looked at me and smiled.

"Well, you need to say a proper see you later to Danny." I looked at him confused as he walked towards us. "Now..." He grabbed my face, making me look at him. "Show Danny how much of a good girl you can be."

"Are you serious?"

"Yes, I'm, I know how much you want it."

"Lan, but if you..." He stopped me.

"Do you want it?" I nodded shyly. "Then stop questioning me, Jesus. Here." He took off my shirt and threw it on the floor. "Give me a show." He kissed me and walked away. I looked at Danny, that smile at me.

"If you want me to stop at any moment, just tell me." I nodded, and he reached around me to unclasp my bra, which he did with ease, I helped him to take it off and throwing it on the floor next to my shirt. "You're lucky, mate." Danny said to Lan.

"I know." Lan response made me smile, but my attention was robbed by Danny that attacked my breasts with his mouth.

"Fuck, Danny..." I rocked my hips back and forth in response to it, he pressed me even more against himself, making me feel every inch of him under me.

"Let's take this pants off." I got up quickly and started to take my pants off as Danny unbuttoned his jeans. I look to Lan that was sat a bit far away with his dick in hand, I smiled at him that smiled back. Daniel's hands pulled back to his lap, now straddling him. I looked down as I was placing myself, he had put a condom already and all it was left for me to do was enjoying the ride. I lowered myself on him, slowly taking in every inch of him.

"Danny, oh god." I felt his lips on my neck, making me moan against his shoulder.

"You feel so fucking good, you're like an angel." He held my waist, squeezing it with his hands as he helped me to bounce on him. "Great view back there?"

"Amazing." Lando's voice was shaky with pleasure, it only made me want to put an even better show to my beautiful boyfriend.

"Good." My hands went to Danny's hair pulling it back making him look up a bit, I looked at his face and kissed him, God, I really always wanted to do that. He kissed me back in need, it was a sloppy kiss, but it was even better than I thought it would be. Knowing that he wanted me as much as I wanted him was an ego booster, and I wouldn't change anything. I started to go faster.

"I'm gonna cum." I whispered in Danny's ear.

"Yes, cum for me, kitty, show your boyfriend how good I make you feel." His eyes never letting mine, I got my high and after a couple seconds also did Danny. Both of us moaning way too loud, forgetting that we weren't alone in the building, but I guess it only made Lando like me because I could hear him moaning right to us.

"Mother fucker..." Lando's was significantly lower than me and Danny, but it was enough to make me feel goosebumps after hearing it.

"You really are a good girl." Danny said, and I kissed him once more.

"Thank you." I smiled before feeling my hair being pulled back, just enough for me to see Lando with a big smile on his face.

"Open up." I opened my mouth, and he put two of his fingers in it, I could taste his cum coating them, so I did what he wanted, and I suck it clean. "Good girl Indeed." He took his fingers off my mouth and kissed me, tasting himself on my mouth.

"Feeling better?" Danny asked, looking at me.

"Better than ever, thank you." I gave him a little kiss and turned back to Lan. "Thank you too, babe."

"You're welcome, it was really hot to watch, I'm not mad about it."

"I'm free anytime you want to watch it again." Danny joked, but we all knew, it wasn't all joke.