#those two were fruity DAY ONE too

[emotionallyunstabl]

i love agent stone and all but like whos fucking idea was it to add their oc to the sonic movies.

heres my character 🧍they are eggmans PERSONAL assistant ☕️🧑‍🔬 they make GREAT coffee 💗🙈🙉 they are in love 👬👨‍❤️‍💋‍👨❤️🤭🫣😋

[majestyeverlasting]

𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐦𝐚𝐲 | 𝐞.𝐦.

Pairing Eddie Munson x Fem Reader [friends -> lovers]

Summary: You and Eddie ditch the party of the semester to fall into something you both know is meant to be [fluff, 3k]

A/N This is just fun, fluff, and feels. Felt like a vibe while I was writing it. This fic is part 1 of 3.

The music vibrates through the floor so intensely that Eddie can feel it in his bones. Even in the sunroom where he and a few others have settled. The small space gives sight to the backyard, where people mingle as they smoke, illuminated by string lights combating the night’s darkness. Those inside the house with him chatter, sing, and toss their heads back in carefree laughter, feet shuffling against the hardwood as they dance.

The entire scene buzzes with the kind of life only Steve Harrington’s place could ignite on a Friday night. One of these days, he swore he was going to loosen up and allow himself to get swept up in it too. 

For now, he watches. Eyes flitting to various faces, but always returning to you. If you weren’t smiling, you were talking, and the way your lips formed around your words was just as beautiful. The two of you spoke briefly when he first arrived, and he could still feel the delighted hug you’d given him over the fact that he decided to come. He wondered what he’d have to do to make it go away, but good thing he didn’t mind the feeling. It was a reminder of how much he wished your nearness could be all his forever.

Longing was a peculiar thing. Selfish in its occupation of his entire being. 

As Eddie takes another small sip from his drink, something fruity spiked with vodka, The Hair himself saunters up in front of him in a pair of slacks and a Polo sweater. Though rather polished for the occasion, it manages to look fitting on him. His cheeks are a little flushed and the metalhead raises a curious brow as his friend stares down at him with a smirk. 

Rebel Yell starts pulsing through the stereo as Steve offers him a hand off the couch. They end up weaving their way out back. The fall air is cool, but not all of summer’s warmth has vanished. A few people wave and greet them as they head towards a pair of chaise lounge chairs. Billy Idol’s voice is muffled as it continues thrumming from inside. Grooving bodies are visible through the windows as the party carries on. 

Steve pulls out a fancy metal cigarette case before they sit, flipping it open with a soft click. Eddie can’t help but snort as he relaxes into the chair. 

Steve’s brows furrow as he slips out a joint and begins lighting it. “What?” 

Eddie nods to the case in Steve’s lap. “Rich people shit.” 

Steve takes the first couple puffs before passing the joint to Eddie. “Jealous?” 

A smile cracks Eddie's face before he takes a drag. The answer is no, he isn’t. Once upon a time, jealousy was all he burned with, even though he was Hawkin’s poster child for no fucks given and had every reason to be grateful he wasn’t worse off. Grateful for Wayne, that he wasn’t in the pen with his deadbeat father, for finally finding solid friends. He had more than he could ask for, and it took growing up to see it. 

Eddie tips his head back and blows smoke up into the night before giving Steve his turn. What he can’t see is that your eyes have fallen on him from inside the house, sparkling and curious as Robin grins by your side. 

“So did I save you back there or what?” Steve asks as he ashes the joint onto the ground. “Looked like you were zoning in and out, man.” There’s genuine curiosity in his gaze though his tone is playful. 

Growing up with parents like his, Steve had gotten good at reading people. They vacationed a lot, but still managed to walk around with arc reactors in their chests whenever they were home. Bound to detonate in the wake of the most trivial inconveniences. Sometimes he wished he could shut everyone and their feelings out, but he wouldn’t quite be himself then. 

Eddie runs his ringed fingers through his hair. “Just a bit overwhelmed.” 

Steve takes a thoughtful look around. “These kinda things can be a lot.” 

Not even half the faces outside belong to close friends. There was a magic to it, nevertheless. For a few hours, everyone could throw their worries to the wind as Hawkins, Indiana began to feel less like a nowhere town and more like the top of the world. Lord knows Steve didn’t mind the distraction. 

“Not my scene,” Eddie settles on saying. The joint has found its way back into his hand. 

“Everyone’s got their escape,” Steve says. “You’re just too evolved for this one.” 

Eddie snorts. “Shut up.” 

“Yet here you are in the flesh,” Steve continues, thinking as Eddie smokes. “You should tell her how you feel.” 

Eddie coughs, lowering the joint from between his lips. “Dude. Fuck.” 

Steve bites back a smirk as Eddie recovers, extending his hand for the joint. Eddie refuses, taking another drag out of spite, for himself or Steve he isn’t sure. A distant swell of giggles makes multiple heads turn towards the back door, where you and Robin file outside. There’s an immediate flutter in Eddie's gut as he takes you in, your skirt flowing at your thighs. It takes him a second to realize you two are headed their way. 

By the time you make it over, Eddie has straightened up. Meanwhile Steve remains unphased. “Ladies,” Steve greets.  

Robin wrinkles her glittery nose at him. “Why weren’t we invited out here?” 

Chuckling, he makes room for her on his chair and she plops down beside him. “‘Cause you hate the way weed makes you feel like you’re going insane.” He leans into her with each word until she pushes him away with a helpless laugh.

“It’s the principle,” she counters. 

Eddie motions for you to join him and you smile as you take a seat beside him, bumping your shoulder against his in a gentle hello. When he offers you the joint, you shake your head. Steve reaches for it yet again, but Eddie pretends not to notice, taking another drag. A small smile pulls at your lips. 

“Actually, I think I will take a hit.” Eddie doesn’t hesitate passing it to you. 

Rather than indulging, you hand it to Steve, who laughs in victory. Eddie shakes his head, feigning betrayal in a way that earns a laugh out of you. It’s a sweet, melodic sound. He tries to ignore the way your thigh feels pressed against his, but it’s in vain. Even the vanilla notes of your perfume manage to cloud his mind in the softest way. No matter where he was, if you were near, he would always be painfully aware of your presence. 

It was your invitation that had driven him to this party in the first place. Although Steve’s invite came first, your insistence made him change his mind and say yes. Sweaty bodies and blaring music wasn’t your ideal scene either, but you gave in from time to time and looked good doing so. Earlier that night, Eddie almost hadn’t made it through Dancing In the Dark as you and Robin swayed and jumped around like you were alone in your room. There was something about the freeness of the way you moved that made it hard to look away. 

“Munson’s been meaning to tell you something,” Steve announces, looking straight at you.

Eddie’s heart drops into his stomach as he glares at Steve. Robin glances between the two of them, brows furrowed as amusement plays on her lips. You hug your arms as a cool breeze rolls through, but you’re more interested in what Eddie has to say than escaping the chill. In meeting your gaze, however, he silently begs you not to entertain the claim. It only piques your curiosity all the more. 

“Are you gonna spill or what?” Robin prompts.

“There’s nothing to spill,” Eddie insists, looking down to twist his skull ring. 

Reaching over into his lap, you gingerly take his hand into yours to slip off that very ring. He doesn’t pull away or argue, just watches as a helplessly warm feeling melts down his ribcage. His lips twitch upwards when you put it on your thumb because it’s the only finger big enough. It’s warm from being against his own skin for so long. Robin and Steve share a brief, knowing look.

“Speak now or forever hold your peace.” There’s hope woven within the lilt of your voice. Eddie chuckles, and you commit the breathy sound to memory as if you’ll need it one day more than you do now. 

Robin slaps her hands against her knees. “Well, it’s getting kinda chilly out here so I’m gonna head back inside,” she says, rubbing her arms as she stands. 

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” you tease. 

“I’ll stick to something tame like snooping around in Harrington’s room,” she says as she turns to leave. Steve rolls his eyes.

A comfortable silence settles between the three of you. However, his brows eventually pinch together as he reconsiders Robin’s words. Taking one last drag, he passes the joint back to Eddie.   

“She was joking, Steve,” you assure him, chuckling. 

“No she wasn’t,” he worries as he stands to jog back into the house. Eddie snickers. 

With a soft sigh, you lean back onto your hands, looking towards the sky as silence falls again. There are a few clouds visible in the light of the crescent moon, but the stars are everywhere. Like tiny shining freckles peppered against the face of the night. Part of you wonders if he’ll talk now. 

“What if the stars have been watching us back our entire lives?” you murmur. 

Eddie’s brows pinch together as he looks over at you, chest rattling with a startled laugh. “That’s something to think about.” His eyes are a bit glossier now. “Don’t think I’d mind if that were true.” 

You tilt your head, a smile budding on your face. “You wouldn’t mind billions of little eyes observing your day-to-day life?” you ask. “That’s a pretty big audience.” 

A grin eases across his face, half playful, half cocky. “I’m a pretty interesting guy.”

You lift a teasing shoulder, feigning indifference. “You’re alright.” 

Eddie laughs, but a weighted look flickers in his eyes as he studies you, catching the fondness you hadn’t tried all that hard to hide. Even with the pleasant buzz beneath his skin and somewhat of a looser mind, he can see it clearly. 

“Hey,” you speak up again. There’s a new softness to your voice, something mischievous dancing around the edges. “Wanna get outta here?” 

Eddie blinks like he can’t quite believe you’ve asked, but finds himself saying yes anyways.

••• 

Sitting in the passenger seat in his van, you realize you didn’t think much further than this. The air smells like him in all the best ways. Pinewood and faint cigarette smoke. As the engine rumbles to life, you shift in your seat and peek over at him, your confidence a distant memory. The radio bursts to life as well, but he quickly reaches out to turn it down. You bite back a smile at the fact that his skull ring is missing from his finger because it’s on yours. Eddie settles in with a sigh, turning to you. 

“So,” he says, eyes sparkling and a little red under the glow of the street lights. 

There’s an intensity to the warmth of his gaze. It drives you to hide your face in your hands. Which does nothing to make him disappear, if the way he exhales a chuckle is any indicator. “Stop looking at me, I didn’t think this far ahead.” There’s no real distress in your voice, only giddiness mixed with nerves. 

“Now I feel like an idiot,” you whine. 

“Well, you’re not.” He sounds more sincere than the moment calls for. “And I don’t think I’m gonna be able to stop looking at you, so I guess we’re both in a pickle.” 

“A pickle?” You snort, lowering your hands to meet his gaze. More laughter escapes you. Maybe it’s your body's way of not having to address the implication of his words. 

There’s a flutter in his gut as he watches you. It’s like old times, back when you were freshmen who stayed up too late laughing over the most ridiculous things. Except now, you were more than the girl who sat beside him in Biology because you thought it was cool he had a tattoo. You’d grown into a friend, perhaps even more. As composure finds its way back to you, that truth weighs heavy in the small distance between you.  

Eddie clears his throat. “We could hang at mine for a bit. Wayne’s at work.” When you don’t say anything, he bites the inside of his cheek. “It’s up to you.”  

“Sorry, yeah, that sounds good,” you breathe. 

Eddie gears the van into drive, only to put it back in park with a heavy exhale. You blink when angles himself to look at you, opening his mouth a few times before speaking. 

“There is something I need to tell you,” he admits. “No way in hell did I ever think we’d be friends, but you’re the raddest person I’ve ever met.” A lump forms in your throat as his words wash over you. “And you’re so pretty that sometimes I wonder how every guy in the world isn’t giving you whatever you want all the time.” 

You can hear your heart in your ears as you say, “Maybe that’s ‘cause there’s only one guy I want in the world.” 

•••

A small sound of surprise rises up your throat when Eddie backs you against his bedroom door. His apology is hushed against your lips as he continues kissing you, hands gentle where they grip at your waist, feeling along your sides. You’re warm all over as if you’re laid out before the sun, arms hooked around his neck. It hadn’t occurred to him how much he wanted to kiss you until you looked at his alarm clock and realized that it’d probably be best if he drove you home. It was well past midnight. Time had escaped you as you talked and laughed. 

When he does pull away, he studies your face like he’s looking for something. A few seconds pass, and he still doesn’t know what for. Perhaps your smile as it shyly appears. You move your hands to cup his face, thumbs stroking his flushed cheeks. You’ve never been close enough to notice he has the faintest freckles over the bridge of his nose. It almost feels like you’re getting a glimpse at sacred markings you’re not supposed to see. 

Eddie remembers to breathe when you peck his lips again, running your fingers through his hair. His breath is startled out of him, more like. It’s a wonder his knees haven’t buckled beneath him. He wants to kiss you again to see if that’ll finally knock him back down to earth, but instead he exhales the softest sigh over your lips, squeezing your hips to confirm you’re real. He’s not expecting the sense of guilt that creeps up on him. 

Your brows pinch together. “What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing. I just… I haven’t taken you on a date or bought you flowers.” He swallows. “I swear you’re worth all that, swear I’m gonna.” 

You gently scratch his scalp. “That’s nothing to worry yourself over.” 

Eddie shakes his head. “Don’t want you to feel like I’m just trying to come onto you,” he says. “I like you a lot—”  

“If it’s any consolation, I’ve been wanting to kiss you forever too.” Your voice sounds braver than you feel. 

A smile breaks across his face as he rests his forehead against yours. “Well, that’s maddening news.” 

Humming, you kiss him again, delicately running your tongue along his lips so he shivers. “Where are we gonna go?” you breathe, clarifying when he makes a soft, confused sound, “For our first date.” With the way you continue kissing him, he assumes you don’t really want an answer, that you’re trying to drive him crazy on purpose. 

His mind changes when you gently push his chest so he knows to pull away. He listens immediately, eyes dazed. 

“Maybe the arcade,” you supply, toying with the hem of his shirt. “Or a picnic by the lake.” Your hands slip under his shirt, gracing the skin of his lower stomach, your touch sending a rush of heat through him faster than any high ever could. 

You’re not trying to be suggestive, it’s more exploratory. A shared thrill in finally being able to touch him how you’ve wanted for so long. Eddie’s hands remain at your waist, grounding him even as he feels his resolve starting to slip. 

As much as he wants to indulge a step further, maybe even several, he holds himself back. It might be old-fashioned, but he wants to do this right, do a bit of course correction. He can almost hear Uncle Wayne’s voice from those lazy afternoons of his younger years, talking about life and how to treat a lady. 

“Next Friday,” he says, staring into your eyes intently. “It’ll be nice. I’ll surprise you,” he promises, taking your hands in his, relishing their softness, their warmth. His skull ring is still on your thumb. 

“Really?” Your smile is unabashed. 

He nods, a grin creeping onto his face. “It’s a date.” 

-

Thank you so much for reading! Feel free to let me know what you think. 

Turn on notifications for @taleseverlasting so you don’t miss the next one.

NEXT PART (18+)

MORE

[arc-misadventures]

Care to Share a Drink?

Jaune Arc was walking back from the training halls tired from another grueling training regime. Since becoming a, Specialist, Jaune had taken several courses to broaden his expertise; both in functioning, and technical training.

It was good to widen his expertise as a, Specialist, and he may be taking in all this new information like a sponge, but a sponge can only absorb so much in before it starts to leak out.

Now, Jaune was tired. He needed to relax, and just destress himself for all the worries that weighed him down. He was having a day off tomorrow, maybe he could...

: Hey, Jaune!

Jaune: Hmm...?

Jaune turned around to see the ever smiling, Clover Ebi approaching him.

Jaune: Oh, hey, Clover. What's up?

Clover: Just wanted to ask if you wanted to go out for a drink?

Jaune: A drink?

Clover: Yeah, there's this bar I like to go to, I thought you would enjoy some male bounding. I would have invited you sooner, but we were so busy with everything. Besides, you look like you need someplace to relax for a bit.

Jaune: Oh, is anyone joining us?

Clover: Naww... I asked everyone else; Marrow, can't hold a drink for the life of him. Vine is a tea nut. Elm, likes those fruity drinks, the bar we're going to doesn't have those. Harriet said she was busy doing some paperwork with, Winter. And, Winter... Ya know.

Jaune: I know, Clover, I know.

Jaune: Sure... I wouldn't mind having a drink with you.

Clover: Alright then, let's go!

Jaune: Do they have any good bar food there? I'm starving.

~~~

Clover: So here we are, Jaune! The Squeaky Cog! Best bar in all of, Mantle!

Jaune: I thought we would be going to a bar in, Atlas, not one in, Mantle.

Clover: Nahh, there are plenty of decent bars in, Atlas. But, this place... it has a more homely feel to it, feels more lived in then the bars in, Atlas which feel sterile.

Jaune: Ahh, a by product of the whole, Colour Wars, eh?

Clover: Yeah, pretty much. Now come on, let's get a drink!

The pair walked over to the bar, and took a seat. Jaune grabbed the menu, and gave it a quick glance, finding a item he wouldn't mind eating. The barkeeper shortly came to them, and asked if they wanted anything.

Clover: I'll have a beer, and the chili fries.

Jaune: I'll have the... fish and chips, and a scotch on the rocks.

The bartender took their orders before walking away, as he left, Jaune busied himself with a bowl of pretzels.

Clover: A scotch on the rocks? I didn't take you for the type.

Jaune: A simple beer, thought you had more class.

Clover: I tend to have whisky after a reward for a rough day, for this a simple beer will do.

Jaune: I'd take a vodka myself if I wanted something simple. But, it's been a while since I had a drink, so I'll take a scotch.

Jaune thanked the barkeeper when he brought them their drinks. He swirled his drink watching the ice cube move about his drink. He took a sip letting out a satisfying breath of air as he did.

Jaune: That's smooth... I was told by some of the locals while I was walking about, Mantle that Mantilian Scotch is really good; That's a hell of an understatement.

Clover: Really? Maybe I should try it, and maybe you can try a beer too.

Jaune: Actual piss has more flavour in it than that piss in a bottle.

Clover laughed at, Jaune's little jab, he looked at, Jaune a serious look crossing his face.

Clover: Uhh... listen, Jaune...

Jaune: Is this where you ask me questions about my relationship with, Winter, or are we going to talk about you, and Harriet instead?

Clover stopped in his tracks, looking dumbfounded at, Jaune who just gave him an inquisitive eyebrow in return.

Jaune: Well?

Clover closed his mouth before giving, Jaune an amazed, yet scared look.

Clover: Again, you notice way too much, and it's scary how much you do.

Jaune laughed as he spun the ice cup around in his drink.

Jaune: Relax, Clover. I've been expecting you to ask me about you two since I caught you making your way to the, Ever Light Hotel~!

Clover: Hey! Keep it quiet about... the hotel!

Jaune gave another light laugh before taking another sip of his drink.

Jaune: Okay, Clover; Let's play a little game then shall we?

Clover: What kind of game?

Jaune: I ask you a question about you, and Harriet. Then you ask me a question about me, and Winter. You game.

Clover: Okay. I'm game... You first.

Jaune: Oh good, because I've been wondering for weeks now; How the hell did you two get together?

Clover: Ahh... Well... before you joined us, the Specialist, we already had six members... But, we lost one, his name was, Tortuga.

Jaune: Tortuga... I remember hearing, Harriet saying that name... She said, 'I was good, but I wasn't anything compared to, Tortuga.' Is that why, Harriet hates me? Because, I'm some sort of replacement of this, Tortuga fellow?

Clover: Kinda. Harriet, and Tortuga always had this older brother, younger sister dynamic to them. So when, Tortuga died, Harriet lost her 'big brother.' She didn't take it well...

Jaune: I can understand that. I have seven older sisters... I can barely handle the thought of losing one of them...

Clover: Well as it's my job as team leader to help my teammates. So, I talked with her, consoled her, and was just there for her when she needed it. A shoulder to cry on, a face to scream at. A friend.

Clover: Then one day, the whole team went here to relax, and have a drink, and while the rest of the team slowly went home one after another, bunch of light weights the lot of them! Harriet, and I stayed there getting absolutely waisted... Then...

Jaune: You woke up in each others arms in an uncompromising position?

Clover: Uhh... ahh.. yeah... that's pretty much it...

Jaune laughed at, Clovers face as it was flushed red from embarrassment.

Clover: There was some awkwardness between the two of us. But, we managed to work it out, and we've been dating in secret for about two months now.

Jaune: Why in secret; is there something against, Specialist dating each other?

Clover: No, there isn't any rule. We just don't want the others to know, I mean if, Elm finds out about us, we'll never hear the end of it!

The pair shared a short laugh that ended when the bartender brought them their meals. The duo thanked the bartender before they went back to their conversation.

Clover: Okay, it's my turn... How the hell did you get together with, Winter freaking Schnee? I mean... I've know, Winter for years, but she never struck me as the type who would be interested in dating anyone. Much less you.

Jaune: Rude...

Jaune nonchalantly replied while enjoying the fries on his fish, and chips. He quite liked the mixed spices they were using.

Clover: I don't mean to be rude, It's just... you seem so... so simple.

Jaune: I guess that's what she likes about me.

Clover: You guess?

Jaune: I don't know, or really understand why they like me. I was just being myself with them; honest, open, being an absolute dork... Honestly, I haven't the faintest clue how those two fell for me. I've flirted with woman before, and I was absolute trash! Like what the fuck was I thinking?!

Clover: Everyone was an idiot when it comes to flirting.

Clover commented this as he was shoveling his chili froes into his mouth.

Jaune: That was a year ago...

Clover: Pfft?!

Clover soon developed into a small coughing fit, before grabbing his beer, and chugging it down.

Clover: (Cough, cough, cough!) Serious, you went to being a loser who couldn't flirt with a girl for the life of them, to having, Winter Schnee fawning all over you?!

Jaune: Yeah, I don't understand it either...

Jaune dipped his fish into the hollandaise sauce, marveling at how nice it tasted. He also flagged down the bartender over to get, Clover another beer.

Jaune: Honestly if feel like I'm just standing there, and some hot girl looks at me like: "Haha! What's a dork!"

Jaune: "I must have him for my own."

Clover: Seriously?

Jaune: It's happened at least four times, two in the past two weeks... Okay, my turn: What's up with, Harriet?

Clover: What do you mean?

Jaune: Harriet's been looking a little queasy lately... Did any... definitions of 'lucky' happen?

Clover: Huw...?!

Clover dropped his fork in shock at the implications at, Jaune's honest question.

Clover: ...?!

Jaune: Well?

Clover: No! N-N-Nothing like that at all! She's just sick from bad fish, I swear! We had it checked! She's not pregnant!

Jaune: Then you better keep using those condoms, or birth control. I don't think you two want that to happen... Yet?

Clover: Well... I wouldn't mind it happening eventually... but, there's too much going on right now...

Jaune: Well, regardless of what happens, I wish you two the best of luck! Not from just your semblance.

Jaune raised his drink in the air before, Clover raised his in the air for a salute. Jaune then finished his drink, asking the barkeeper for another.

Clover: My turn?

Jaune nodded as he finished the last remnants of his meal.

Clover: Okay... When I asked you about you, and Winter. You kept saying, 'they:' Why?

Jaune: Ahh... I'm not gonna lie to you, Clover... but, I'm stuck within a love triangle between two woman.

Clover: You're... in love triangle...?

Jaune: Yep.

Clover: Seriously?

Jaune: Yep!

Jaune gave, Clover a dead serious look as he answered him. Popping the, P to emphasize his point.

Clover: How...?!

Jaune: I don't understand how these things happen to me either.

Clover: Between who?

Jaune: Winter Schnee, and Robyn Hill...

Clover: Robyn Hill?! She's into you? Again, how?

Jaune: Not sure. My best bet is that I was honest with her. Robyn's semblance lets her decern truth from lies. I can only guess what she went through to have a semblance such as that. But, I think saving her from a psycho faunas certainly helped.

Clover: Being the literal white knight saving the damsel...? Yeah, I bet that helped.

Jaune: Now the two of them have given me tokens of affection, and I have no idea what to do...

Clover: The sash, and that falcon pin?

Jaune: Lucky guess.

The pair shared a laugh before continuing their stories.

Jaune: Now the worst part is, is that they both know the other likes me, and they've both stacked their 'claims' on me. I'm literally stuck between two badass huntresses who could beat my ass, who are more than willing to fight each other tooth, and nail to get me! I have no idea how to navigate any of this!! And, worse of all: It's fucking hot that I have two beautiful, wonderful woman fighting over me!

Clover: Do you know which one you want to be with?

Jaune: I don't know... They're both among the greatest, and most beautiful people I've ever met! And, as much as I've enjoyed their rather, forceful kiss's. I want to be the one to steal their breath away with a kiss. But, I have no experience when it comes to the affairs of the heart, so I haven't got a damn clue on what to do... And, it's as you said, there is too much going on right now to worry about such things...

Clover: But, if you had to choose: Who would you pick?

Jaune shrugged his shoulders before looking at, Clover.

Jaune: Both?

Clover snorted as he smacked, Jaune on his shoulder before slapping a pile of credits on the bar top after finishing he second beer.

Clover: It's on me. Now come on, let's back to base.

Jaune finished his scotch before getting up, and following, Clover out of the bar.

Jaune: This was nice. Thanks for inviting me, Clover. We should do this again. Only this time, drinks are on me.

Clover: Looking forward to it.

[telephoniii]

YOU’RE LOVE IS MAGNETIC… literally

☆彡 in which you drink a magnetic potion

Riddle Rosehearts x GN!Reader

Word Counter: 1.6K

Warnings: Reader is Prefect, possible OOC

A/N: We love Mr. Riddle Height-Doesn’t-Matter Rosehearts in this house!! I hope you enjoy :>

In your defense, mostly everything on Trey’s grocery list is edible.

When you were running errands for him, you couldn't help but be curious about an unlabeled drink he needed. It was a fun color! And it was pretty cheap too. So, naturally, you bought another one for yourself to try.

After dropping off the groceries, you popped that bad boy open and took a few sips.

It had a fruity taste that reminded you of strawberries. The taste made you think of Riddle and those strawberry tarts he adored. Since you were already in Heartsbyul, you figured it’d be nice to stop by and say hi to the housewarden.

“Oh, Prefect, it's nice to see you. Did you need something?” Riddle greeted, not expecting to see you. You seemed more cheery than usual, making Riddle smile. “I was just in the area and whatnot. What’re you up to?”

He opened his room door wider, allowing you to step in. “I’m studying. Professor Trein assigned my class a test this Friday due to a few troublemakers.” Riddle explained as he walked towards the desk in his room.

Stacks of books laid upon it which made you wonder, “How long have you been studying?”

Riddle glanced towards his bedside clock. “Approximately 3 hours.” You nearly choked. “3 hours? That's pretty admirable. I think I’d be out after 30 minutes.” The boy gave you an unamused look, raising a brow. “That’s not enough time to effectively review the material in a few days. I hope Ace isn't rubbing off on you.”

You gave the housewarden a small shrug and grin. “I don't think Ace studies at all.” He let out a tired sigh in response, the very thought of Ace just stressing him out already. With a sympathetic look, you lightly rubbed Riddle’s shoulder.

“Well, on the bright side, at least Ace is passing?” Your attempt to comfort him was mediocre at best. A better idea appeared in your mind. With your free hand— the other still resting on Riddle’s shoulder— you pulled out that fruity drink you had bought. “I saw this on Trey’s grocery list and got one for myself. It's some juice thing I think? I’m pretty sure you’ll like it! Try some.”

Riddle looked at you like you were crazy. “Prefect…” His hand flickered between you and the half-empty bottle in your hand. “You are aware that’s a magnetic potion, correct?” You froze.

…What? “Don’t tell me you actually drank that, Prefect.” Riddle’s tone was a mix of concern and disbelief.

“I…uhhh…” You gave him a sorry smile which was met with a displeased face. “You shouldn't go drinking random potions, I expected you to know better—” Riddle continued to lecture you as you realized a bigger problem… You couldn't take your hand off his shoulder.

“Uh huh… Yeah…” You mumbled, trying to nod along to what he was saying as you attempted to pull your hand away from him with no success. “And… and… Prefect?” Riddle murmured as he caught on to what was happening.

“What potion did you say it was again?” You cautiously asked with a nervous chuckle. Riddle paled. “…Let’s go find Professor Crewel.” You simply nodded in response.

Maneuvering out of his room with your hand stuck to his shoulder was oddly difficult as the two of you tried to avoid any other part of you touching. The way your hand was positioned was uncomfortable at best and cramping at worst. Yet, no matter how hard you pulled, it wouldn't come off of Riddle’s shoulder.

Riddle looked just as conflicted, quickly recognizing your discomfort. He tried to think of a way to put you in a more comfortable position before you two went on into the hallways. You couldn't help but admire how he looked when he was thinking. That small pout on his lips was adorable. You wished your eyes were a camera.

You then watched as his cheeks began to flush a hue of red. At first, you worried it was out of frustration from the situation before you recognized that his expression looked more… embarrassed.

Riddle slowly turned to you, his lip lightly quivering. “…Would it be more comfortable if I carried you?” You blinked in surprise. “You know we might be stuck in that position if you carry me, right? Meaning, yknow… you’d be stuck carrying me for a while?”

With a shake of the head, you argued against the idea. “I don't want your arms to go sore or anything. I’ll deal with the hand cramp and weird position.” At those words, a glint of determination appeared in Riddle’s eyes. He took it as a challenge.

“I’ll be fine, believe me.” He hummed, suddenly very motivated to do so. A hint of red still tinted his cheeks, though it had calmed down. Hesitantly, you agreed. Riddle can be pretty stubborn when he’s set on something.

You were still worried considering his stature. Compared to a lot of the other NRC students, physical strength didn't seem like his strong suit. “Jump and I’ll catch you on the count of three… 1… 2…”

As you were instructed, you jumped as he said three and tightly closed your eyes. Your nerves were going haywire. Unexpectedly, you were securely caught by him. Huh. You open your eyes with a tiny sigh of relief before you realize you wrapped your free hand around his neck. And now you can't remove it. Riddle seemed flustered by the touch, clearly not expecting it but not commenting as he cleared his throat.

“I’ve got my pen on me, I’m wielding a spell to make carrying you easier.” He explained, averting his eyes to the side. You nodded, a smile finding its way onto your lips. Riddle was pretty charming from this view.

With you now in his arms, you began to walk to Professor Crewel’s room. Any weird looks were ignored by Riddle.

Riddle wasn't one for lying but… “The prefect hurt their leg. I’m taking them to the health office.” …Is what he answered to any questions about why he was carrying you. Thank Sevens that Crewel’s office wasn't too far from Heartsbyul.

“Quite the position you're in, pups.” Professor Crewel hummed, hands folded on his desk as he looked between the two of you. “I believe I've got a method of separating the two of you. However, the potion itself doesn't go away till the end of the day.”

You grimaced at the thought of magnetically connecting to different people like this. Riddle subtly held you closer. Professor Crewel turned his gaze toward you. “I suggest isolation. Go to Ramshackle and don't let anyone else in, lest you want to end up like this again. Understood?”

“Understood.” You murmured back. Crewel got up from his seat, swiftly grabbing ingredients off a few shelves and tossing them into a potion pot. You watched with curiosity, tilting your head to the side. Sensing your interest, Riddle moved a bit so you could have a better view of what Crewel was doing.

Soon enough, the professor was stirring a pot filled to the brim with a glowing, light blue concoction. With a satisfied hum, Crewel grabbed a yardstick and shoved it in there; making sure the majority of it was covered in the mixture.

“This might burn a little!” He announced. In a blink of an eye, he stuck the stick between you and Riddle. You yelped at the feeling. It felt like you just touched a hot iron. The heat slowly faded away and became bearable in a matter of seconds. Riddle had a similar reaction, a frown blatant on his face.

“So, how long until—” You were cut off as your back hit the floor. Hard. Riddle’s eyes widened. “Prefect! Are you alright!?” You let out a small groan before standing up and brushing off the dirt. “Mhm. Peachy. Just— argh, wasn't expecting the rough landing.” Professor Crewel let out an amused laugh. “Let that be a lesson— don't drink unlabeled potions. Or most potions, period. I understand you come from a different world, but it seems like common sense. Naughty pup.”

You frowned but nodded. “Got it, professor.” Crewel went to put away the materials he used, cleaning off the yardstick. Riddle stretched out his arms a bit. Just as he was about to head back to Heartsbyul—“Hey, Riddle?” Turning to face you, Riddle tilted his head.

“Yes, Prefect?” You flashed him a sincere smile. “Thanks for carrying me. Maybe you could do it again— under better circumstances obviously. That was nice.”

Riddle felt his face heat up once more, stuttering over his words. “I-I… Y-You’re very welcome, Prefect…”

Internally, he couldn't help but wish for the opportunity to hold you again too.

.

.

BONUS

Riddle tapped his pen against the desk, staring at the book in front of him. You invaded his mind during his study time; you and that stupidly cute smile of yours.

He couldn't help but reminisce on how it felt to carry you. Intelligence over brawn has always been his go-to, though it felt strangely nice to be able to support you in that way.

He let out a sigh. Perhaps that was enough studying for tonight. It didn't seem like it was very productive anyway. As he got up, a small ding caught his attention. His eyes darted towards his phone as he raised a brow. Who could that be at this hour?

CATER; aren't u 2 the cutest little luv birds!! **two images attached

Looks like more eyes were on him than he thought when he was carrying you through the hallways… He very discretely saves those photos on his phone.

And one of those photos may or may not be his lock screen.

[lovebugism]

vacation, cocktails, stevie in the tiniest shorts… I mean 😮‍💨

thanks for your request lovey!! — the one where steve takes you to the beach, but him in his bathing suit is the real view (established relationship, smut 18+, 2k)

bug's summer fic fest ♡

“My eyes are up here, sweetheart,” Steve jokes as he passes you a cocktail. It’s a red, yellow, and blue colored drink with an orange slice wedged into the top of it. It’s about as tropical as a beachside bar can get. 

The rainbow colors match his color-blocked swim trunks, though the fabric is far more muted in hue. They make his tanned skin look that much more golden. You can’t figure out which shade is most his color, though, no matter how hard you ogle. 

Steve spent a better part of the day smiling with delight every time he caught you staring. He’d been a bit scared to wear the shorts, in truth. They were far too long to be considered a speedo but revealed more of his thighs than normal trunks did. Then he saw how much you loved them and never wanted to take them off.

“Sorry,” you murmur as you take the blended drink from him. “It’s just… It’s staring me right in the face, babe.”

“Shut up,” Steve huffs out a laugh, descending on the lounge seat next to yours.

You’ve been on vacation for four days now, playing house in his parents’ beachside condo. He wears the bliss of holiday all over him, tanned skin glittering beneath a golden hour sun. He’s almost constantly shirtless because it’s so damn hot out — which has done nothing but give you ample time to leer at his toned torso, dusted with marred scars beneath sprinkles of chestnut hair.

But it’s his thighs that get you. Those goddamn perfect thighs you want to take a bite out of and ride all at once.

No one should look so good in such a tiny pair of shorts. You think it should be a crime, really. And the worst part about all of it is Steve has virtually no idea what he’s doing to you.

He just sits there next to you and laughs at your ogling — like there's anything remotely funny about the heart palpitations he’s giving you just from looking so damn good.

“I’m so glad I got you those shorts,” you confess, mostly to yourself, before sipping at the bendy straw in your cup. The fruity slush cools your warm skin almost instantly.

“Yeah,” Steve hums with a lopsided smile. His rosy lips match the sunburn on his cheekbones. “They fit like a glove, don’t they?”

You know he’s saying that just to tease you, but you nod anyway. “Yes, they do,” you singsong quietly, chewing at the end of your straw and getting lost in your leering.

It makes Steve chuckle to himself. “Alright, babe. Keep it in your pants.”

“I’d love to get into your pants, actually.”

“You’re in rare form today, aren’t you?” Steve wonders through his laughter.

Being beachside looked good on you — being away from Hawkins looked good on you. It’s the first time he’s seen you relax in a while. Like, really relax. No monsters to hunt, no children to run after, no parents to impress. It’s just you and him and an orange sun. 

And also a bar that serves alcohol that tastes like juice that you’re currently downing like it’s nothing.

“I’m tipsy and in love,” you shrug. “Sue me.”

Steve smacks his lips against his teeth. “Nah. I’m tipsy and in love, too, so… I guess I can’t really blame you…”

His admission of love makes you smile. You’ve surely heard it a million times now, but your chest sparkles like it’s the very first.

You grow suddenly soft. “Thanks for bringing me here, Stevie…”

His sheepish grin matches your own. “Thanks for coming with me, baby.”

He reaches a hand out towards you — which you take without thinking twice.

His long fingers are warm as they engulf your own. Your arms sway in the inches of space separating the two of you, knuckles gently brushing the white sand beneath you. And even though you’re touching him, you can’t help but crave more.

“You’re so far away,” you observe with a slight pout furrowing your brows.

Steve scoffs a gentle laugh. “I’m literally holding your hand.”

“Yeah, but like…” You trail off as you try to find the words to say — how to say them without sounding pathetic. Your nose scrunches softly with your admission. “I need you…”

“Need me?” he wonders with pinched brows. 

He’s concerned at first, because he’s always concerned at first.

He’s been on the defense since 1984. It’s practically in his nature, at this point. It takes him a second to realize you don’t actually need help — that you’re not in Hawkins anymore, and there’s no reason to look over his shoulder. 

His honey eyes go wide in realization a moment later. His pink mouth falls softly agape. “Oh. Like, need me, need me?”

You hum with a distant, tipsy smile.

“Need you, need you, need you,” you repeat thrice for effect.

Despite his similar desire that blooms like a flower in his chest, he urges, “Finish your drink first, ‘kay?”

Your pout returns. “Why?”

“‘Cause it was expensive as shit, and I don’t want it going to waste,” he explains with a chuckle.

You nod in return. “Yes, sir…”

Your mouth curls around the straw again. A smile quirks your lips as you watch the boy next to you squirm in his seat — your words having a rather obvious effect on him.

You swallow down the strawberry slush, now turning into a sour lemon, and blink away a brain freeze. 

“You okay over there, Stevie?” you tease.

He nods with jutted-out lips. “Mm-hmm. Yep. Perfect.”

—————

One Tropical Rainbow Paradise cocktail later, and Steve’s leading you to his cabana.

It’s more private than a normal one. Far more lavish, too. It’s like a tiny studio apartment — made of three walls and a thick curtain in place of a door. There’s a television hung below the ceiling, a small bed pushed up against the wood, and a clawfoot tub idling on the other side. 

You figure you’ll have ample time to ride Steve in the bath later. 

Your mouth waters for a taste of him now.

It’s why you fall to your knees no more than a second after you’ve latched the curtain shut.

Steve’s eyes go wide as he watches you. He nearly stumbles backward onto the mattress behind him because the very sight of you makes his legs buckle.

“Whoa, babe— Let me put a pillow under you first—”

“I don’t care about that,” you dismiss with the shake of your head. Your fingers curl around the hem of his trunks as you blink up at him. “Just take your clothes off.”

He nods, rapid and visibly enthusiastic. 

You don’t pull his shorts all the way down, just enough to free his half-hard cock. You slip the band beneath his heavy balls and wrap his dick in your hand, wetting your palm with your tongue first to ease the friction. 

You work him slowly with your wrist and lick the pearly bead of precum from his flushed tip like it’s muscle memory to you. The rough pad of your tongue flicking over the most sensitive part of him drives him wild. A groan rumbles in his chest, muffled through his clenched jaw and teeth.

“Fuck— These trunks are really doing it for you, huh?” he teases after his fleeting senses return to him.

You blink up at him, only halfway amused. “Be careful, Stevie. I don't know if you noticed, but I have your dick in my hand.”

A crooked grin pulls at his pink lips. “Yeah… Go ahead and put your mouth on it, sweetheart,” he instructs lowly. “Maybe I’ll let you ride it after— shit.”

Your lips wrap fully around his reddening tip.

His breath catches in his throat when you lick over him like a lollipop. Your tongue dips over his drooling slit. The salty tang of him makes you moan under your breath.

Your lips abandon his cock soon after. You keep jerking him with your fist while you bring your mouth to his balls. You know he likes that best. He’s more sensitive there than most men are and spurned on by the sight of it even more so.

The sounds of your suckling and the vision of you nuzzling against his length has his orgasm creeping up his spine. 

Your mouth widens as your tongue trails up the thick vein at the underside of his cock, leading all the way to his flushed, bulbous tip.

“Oh, fuck, baby,” Steve sighs, right before a whine spills from his throat. His palms are wide and warm as they settle over your temples, his fingers crawling into your hair. 

He doesn’t guide you at all — you know what he likes better than he does, really. He doesn’t pull you closer to him, either. He just holds you. He uses you like an anchor when his impending orgasm threatens to pull his head underwater.

“Oh, fuck, baby,” he repeats, this time in a more firm groan. His cock jerks faintly in your mouth while he babbles. “Gonna make me come like this… So good for me, baby. Your pretty mouth is always so good for me. Just a little bit more…”

You know what he needs. He blinks, and suddenly his cock is stuffed down your throat. Both of you are barely breathing by then, equally spurned on by his rapidly approaching orgasm.

“Oh, shit, babe— fuck,” he whines, voice breaking when you swallow around him. He tilts his head to the ceiling and talks himself through his orgasm with gritted teeth. “Yeah. Gag on it— let me feel you, baby… Fuck, yes... 'S gonna make me come so hard. You’re gonna swallow it for me, yeah? Take everything I give you?”

With his cock stuffing your throat, you show him better than you can tell him. 

His cock spits several warm loads within your waiting throat. You swallow it all down without complaint — not because it tastes good exactly, but because you love having a mouthful of him.

His golden thighs tremble under your hands as your nails rake gently over his skin.

A blissful sigh trembles in his flushed chest when you pull back from him. Even though your jaw aches and your throat is sore, you find it in you to smile as you drag your finger over the dribbles of cum at the corner of your mouth. 

Steve swears he almost comes again when you lick the remnants of his pearly load off the pad of your thumb.

“What do ya say?” you find it in you to tease despite your current predicament. You’re still kneeling in front of him, blinking up at him with heavy watering eyes, saliva glistening on your chin. “Did I earn my seat, Stevie?”

Swallowing through a tight throat, he nods until the words catch up to him. “Yeah. Definitely, yeah. Fuck.”

The bed creaks under his weight when he lies in the center of it. Now fully naked, his tanned skin contrasts heavily with the all-white sheets beneath him. His honey hair is wild as he leans against the fluffy pillows.

He beckons you to him with a wave of his hands.

“C’mere,” he tells you, pink tongue darting out to wet his swollen lips a second later.

You untie your bikini in record time. You rise on the mattress and swing your knee over his hip. Your glistening pussy rests just over his stomach, pretty enough to taste.

“Uh-uh,” Steve hums with the shake of his head, waving his hands again. “Come here.”

Your brows pinch. “What do you mean?”

“Closer,” he commands.

Still a bit confused, you shift further up his waist — only a few inches, though, because you’re not entirely sure what he’s asking of you. 

You don’t fully understand until his wide hands curl around the backs of your thighs. He urges you up his torso himself, forcing you to grip the headboard before you topple over completely. 

He shifts lower on the mattress until your knees are over his shoulders. His strong arms wrap around your thighs to pull you over his face, all but suffocating himself with your pussy.

His scruffy jaw scratches softly at your inner thighs — a stark contrast with the way his soft mouth suckles at your weeping cunt.

You’re practically gushing over his face the second his lips wrap around your clit.

[memento-rory]

✭ 𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐬𝐭. 𝐥𝐮𝐜𝐢𝐚, 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐫: 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒄𝒍𝒖𝒃.

✭ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you and ted get a little too close for schlatt’s comfort at the club, and you finally tell someone what happened between you and schlatt all those months ago.

✭ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: a little ted x reader and a steamy dance scene.

✭ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: ~3k

✭ 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: i realize that i’ve taken four chapters to get through one entire day, and i hope y’all are cool with that lmao. i’m sure it will keep happening again. a week was a little ambitious, but fiwb. no beta, we die like men here. (if you ever see a mistake, you are legally obligated to tell me.) enjoy! 🩵

Blue and purple lights illuminate a steady swirl of fog coming out of machines near the DJ’s stage, the bass of the loud music completely overtaking all of your senses. You can feel the reverb under your skin, and the hairs on your arm stand at attention. The dance floor toward the front of the building is full of bodies, so many people dancing all their cares away.

“I’m gonna get you beautiful ladies a round of shots!” James yells as he pokes his head in between you and Amelia. “You find us a place to chill!”

Amelia takes your hand and leads you through the crowds of people standing around and talking, weaving your way around the large space, before finally finding a table big enough to house your entire party. You scoot into the booth with Amelia close behind you, grinning over at her, already absolutely buzzing about the night you’re about to have.

James had been sure that Ted and Schlatt would have shown up by the time he got back to the table with shots, but he’s wrong, so he offers you and Amelia the two extra shots. You down them, grimacing as the shot burns all the way down. James has also gone ahead and ordered your favorite drink, which you sip on as you wait for Ted and Schlatt to arrive. Amelia and James take to the floor, dragging you along with them.

You sway along to the music, the alcohol already beginning to course through your veins. It’s been a while since you’ve drank, since you’ve really let loose. The last time was… well… you don’t want to dwell on it.

Ted stands in front of the mirror, running his hand through his hair once, twice, three times, trying to get it perfect. He adjusts the string of pearls around his neck, the rings on his fingers. He catches Schlatt’s eyes in the mirror, quirking an eyebrow at the scowl on his face.

“Dude, you look fine, can we fuckin’ go?” Schlatt says, half-laying on the bed, “You’re taking fuckin’ forever.”

“Fuckin’… sue me for wanting look nice,” Ted laughs at Schlatt’s impatience. “Did you see how good (Y/N) looks?”

Schlatt bites the inside of his cheek, shaking his head, “Barely even looked at her, man.” The lie slips out of his mouth so easily, and he’s glad Ted is none the wiser.

“Well, I looked at her. Got a realll good look,” Ted shoots Schlatt a pointed look, before returning to his preening, “Can’t look like some kinda chump next to her.”

Schlatt rolls his eyes, his skin heating up at Ted’s words. He tries to ignore the feeling, but something comes over him.

“You’re not her type, man.” Schlatt says casually, before he can stop it. Ted thinks Schlatt’s just trying to get a rise out of him, so he only laughs, unbothered by Schlatt’s statement.

“Guess there’s only one way to find out.”

It’s difficult, but for once, Schlatt keeps his thoughts to himself.

You’re two shots and one fruity little drink deep when Schlatt and Ted finally show up. Amelia and James are still out on the dance floor, but you’re at the bar ordering another round of drinks and shots for Ted and Schlatt after they’d texted they were on their way.

When you spot Ted and Schlatt looking for your group, you lift a hand up, waving them over. Ted beams as he catches your eye, sauntering over to the bar, with Schlatt close behind.

“Hey, hot stuff,” Ted sidles up to you at the bar, looming over you, punctuating his greeting with a cheeky wink. “Come here often?” He asks, intentionally deepening his voice to draw a laugh from you. It works, causing you to giggle at him. (Ted’s always been funny, but he’s even funnier now that you’re tipsy.)

“Shut up,” You laugh, rolling your eyes at him. You think you catch Schlatt doing the same out of the corner of your eye, but you can’t be sure. “I ordered your drinks. You’ve got some catching up to do.”

“Yeah?” Ted smiles mischievously down at you, “Are you feelin’ it?”

“I’m feelin’ it,” You confirm with a carefree laugh, nodding your head.

As if on cue, the bartender serves up your shots and Ted and Schlatt’s drinks. “Take my shot,” You tell Ted, handing the small glass over to him, “I’ve gotta pace myself or shit’s gonna go south real fast.” You giggle.

“Don’t mind if I do.” Ted grins, downing the two shots with ease, grimacing slightly. He turns to pass Schlatt a shot and his drink, but Schlatt’s already on the other side of the club, talking to Amelia and James.

Ted merely shrugs and so do you. How are you supposed to care when Ted is standing in front of you, playfully flirting with you while looking absolutely delicious?

“Are you having fun?” Ted asks you, watching you intently as you wrap your lips around the straw in your drink.

“Not yet,” You smirk at him, the alcohol in your system granting you a new kind of confidence, “I was waiting for you to get here.”

Ted’s eyes light up at your statement. “Yeah?” He asks, with a sly grin. He looks like he’s up to no good, and you’re eating it up. “Let me show you a good time.”

Ted downs his drink, before taking your hand in his, leading you out onto the dance floor. You abandon the rest of your drink at the bar, not particularly caring about it at the moment.

Once you hit the dance floor, Ted raises your hand in the air, gracefully spinning you. When you face him again, he drops your hand onto his shoulder, using his other hand to pull you closer to him by your waist. You’re nearly pressed against him, swaying along to the music, with Ted’s firm grip on your waist. The energy in the room is fucking electric, and it only makes you bolder. You turn around, your back up against Ted’s chest. One of your arms snakes up behind you to rest your hand at the back of his neck, and you slowly drag yourself down against him, swaying your hips. You can feel Ted’s breath on your neck as you come back up, and his hand slips underneath the hem of your shirt to rest on your bare skin.

You move your hand to rest on his cheek, holding him close to you. As you touch him, his grip on your skin grows even tighter, and you hear him sigh against your ear. The sound sends a shiver down your spine.

Ted lets you lead, his body moving in tandem with yours, matching all the cues you give him. You can feel yourself getting lost in the music, in him. He feels so good pressed up against you, and your mind wanders as he grinds up on you to the beat. Your eyes close as you let the music flow through you.

When you open your eyes, you notice Schlatt on the other side of the dance floor. He has his eyes fixed on you while some random girl practically feels him up, gyrating against him without shame. His hand lazily rests on the girl’s back, inching dangerously close to her barely-covered ass. His eyebrow quirks just slightly as he realizes you’re watching them.

You maintain eye contact as Ted’s face draws closer to your neck, his lips just barely grazing across your skin. You let your head drop a little lower to give Ted easier access to your neck, and his fingers squeeze at your hip.

Schlatt’s demeanor changes almost imperceptibly, his expression hardening and one of his fists clenching at his side.

His eyes never leave yours, even as the girl he’s dancing with leans up to practically shove her tongue in Schlatt’s mouth. You can almost feel your blood boiling beneath your skin, a scowl forming on your face before you can stop it.

Satisfied that he’s received a reaction from you, Schlatt’s eyes flutter closed as he threads a hand into the girl’s hair, pulling her closer and unabashedly making out with her in the middle of the dance floor.

Your stomach drops and you start to feel entirely too hot under all the lights, all of the heat coming from the bodies around you threatening to suffocate you. You think about stepping off the floor for a break, just to get your wits about you again, but you don’t want to give Schlatt the satisfaction. Instead, you turn back around to face Ted, deciding to turn up the heat yourself.

Ted’s face is unbelievably close to yours as the two of you hit every beat. He’s sporting a wolf-like grin, his eyes half-lidded and staring into your own. The way he’s eyeing you makes you think you’re not alone in having inappropriate thoughts about the two of you together.

Ted has always been handsome, there’s no doubting that, but this is uncharted territory. You’ve known Ted for a good chunk of your life, he’s been one of your closest friends for as long as you can remember. You have a feeling that if you were to do anything, the two of you could be normal about it afterward. What happens at weddings stays at weddings, or whatever.

Ted’s face dips lower, and his eyes dart to your lips, then back up. You move your hand back up to rest at the base of his neck, pulling him to you to close the gap. He tastes like the drinks he downed just a while ago, and almost equally intoxicating.

“Oh, my God!” You hear Amelia yelling beside you, and Ted pulls away from you, clearly amused. Amelia covers her mouth with her hand, looking apologetic for her drunken outburst.

“Sorry, sorry, oh my god.” Amelia shouts over the music, waving her hands, “You guys keep going. I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“All good, Mel,” Ted shouts back, waving his own hand dismissively, “We’ve got plenty of time to do that later.” He adds, flirtatiously.

You feel a heat pool in your abdomen at his words. Amelia looks scandalized, but ecstatic nonetheless. James is shockingly quiet beside her, and you follow his gaze to the other side of the dance floor.

Schlatt is gone.

Hours go by before the rest of you are ready to head back to the hotel.

You’ve had many drinks, and your feet hurt like a bitch from all the dancing. Ted keeps you steady as you walk back to your room, his arm around your shoulder, but he’s also fairly drunk, so the two of you are just stumbling and giggling down the hallway.

“I didn’t know you were rooming next to Schlatt.” Ted remarks as you get to your room.

“Don’t remind me.” You let out a little laugh as you fish your key card out of your purse. Once you get the door open, you look over at Ted, who is just watching you with a hopeful look that he’s too drunk to hide on his face.

“Did you wanna come in?” You ask him, “Maybe have a glass of champagne on the balcony?”

Ted’s eyes light up. “Fuck yeah I do.”

You give him a smile and gesture for him to follow you inside, letting the door click shut behind you.

You plop down onto your bed, eager to get your heels off, but as you fiddle with the buckle, you realize you’re a little too drunk to get them off. You huff out a sigh, and Ted laughs, making his way over to you.

“C’mon,” Ted says as he stands in front of you, motioning for you to lift your leg up to him, “Lemme help.”

You raise your leg up, and Ted guides your foot to rest on his stomach so he has better access to the buckles of your heels. He unbuckles one slowly, moving his hand to your calf to let your leg drop gently, before doing the same with the other one. His touch lingers on your other leg, and he smiles down at you, like he’s just waiting for another chance to kiss you.

You find yourself thinking about Schlatt just next door. Part of you doesn’t give a shit, but another part of you wonders if it would be fucked up to fuck his friend where he could easily hear it.

Another part of you wishes it was him.

Clearing your throat to cut through the tension between you and Ted, you stand up from the bed, making your way to the minibar. “How about that drink?” You suggest, grabbing a bottle of champagne and two glasses.

The cool air coming off of the ocean hits your face as you step out onto the balcony, immediately putting you more at ease. As you sit down at the table, you notice that Schlatt’s lights are still on, spilling out between the curtains in his room. You can just barely see him through the gap, and a terrible thought hits you: Is he alone? Had he left with that girl from earlier?

“Oh, good, Schlatt’s still up,” Ted comments, grabbing his phone from his pocket, “I’d love to get into something more comfortable. I’m gonna ask him to toss me some clothes.”

Ted shoots off a text that you both see Schlatt read, and he looks up to see the two of you watching him from outside. He gets up, and you nearly gulp as you notice he’s only in his boxer briefs. He shows no intention of getting Ted’s things, and instead, closes the curtains with a look on his face that you can’t place. You both watch as his lights go out. Well, you think bitterly, at least he’s alone.

“What the fuck?” Ted scoffs, looking over at you.

You release a heavy sigh. “That’s probably my fault.”

“In what world would that be your fault?” Ted kind of laughs, but he stops as you lean back in your chair, looking a little dejected. It’s not fair for Schlatt to be mad at Ted, to treat him this way just because of you.

You wonder how to even begin to explain the situation to Ted. He notices how you struggle, and immediately starts to pour you a glass of champagne.

You give him a soft smile as he hands you the glass.

“What happened?” Ted asks softly, leaning back in his own chair, giving you the floor.

You sigh again before diving into the story. “Schlatt and I were together… for a while.”

“What?” Ted exclaims, obviously shocked. “When?”

“It was, like, a year ago,” You answer, taking a sip of the champagne. “We hooked up after Jasper’s birthday party. When the party started to wind down, we got to talking and, well, one thing led to another… It was good for, like, a month, and then all of a sudden he just… ghosted, so I don’t know why he’s so pressed now, but he is.”

“Fuuuck,” Ted commiserates with you, shaking his head. “Are you still into him?” He asks, this time as your friend, not as someone who was just about to get to hook up with you.

Had you not been drinking, you might answer differently, but with your inhibitions out the window and a kind ear being lent to you, you decide to be honest.

“Yeah, kinda.” You tell Ted, “I thought I was over it but being here with him, being in his presence at all hours of the day… it all just came back, I think.”

“So why don’t you do something about it?”

“He ghosted me. I’m not about to go back to him with my tail between my legs, hoping he’ll change his mind.”

“(Y/N), he just locked me out of my room for the night because he saw us kiss earlier.” Ted says, “Clearly he’s still feeling something for you.”

You shake your head. Ted doesn’t get it. He doesn’t know how many texts you sent, how much you cried, how hard it was to watch Schlatt act like nothing ever happened between the two of you. You’d opened yourself up to him, just for him to disappear.

“I can’t, Ted.” You finally say, taking another drink. “You can stay with me tonight, if you want. It’s my fault you’re wrapped up in this now, too.”

“Hey, I kissed you, so I’m complicit too.” Ted smiles warmly over at you, “He’ll get over it. Don’t let him bother you.”

“I’m really sorry the night turned out like this,” You can’t help the apology that spills from you, “I know you were hoping for… something else.”

“Don’t sweat it.” Ted waves a hand dismissively, fully unbothered that you’ve changed your mind about hooking up with him, “I wasn’t expecting anything. I’m having a good time either way, I promise.”

A comfortable silence settles over the two of you as you finish your drinks, just marinating in the milky glow of the moon over the ocean, enjoying the sound of the waves crashing against the shore.

“You got anything I can sleep in?” Ted finally asks, and you grin over at him.

“I have a cute little pink PJ set that you’d look real cute in.” You tease, and Ted rolls his eyes, laughing.

“God, nevermind.”

You let out a cackle at his response, feeling much better than you had just moments ago. It feels good to finally tell someone what happened with Schlatt. You let yourself bask in the comfort of it all, because you know that once tomorrow comes, you’re in for some more torture when Schlatt finds out Ted stayed with you for the night.

← 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 ✭ 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 →

[lulunothulu]

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

Robert “Bob” Floyd x Latina Reader

Summary: Bob doesn’t drink but when he does, he turns into Hangman 2.0

Content: flirty Bob, 18+ some touching, kissing

For the sake of this fic, you’re a beautiful Latina baddie also bc I’m selfish and wanna see more Latina rep. in fics lol

Hard deck was unusually louder than any other Friday night. There were ten times more people here because of Labor Day weekend and Bob didn’t know if he liked it or not.

“Baby On Board!” Jake shouts over the noise. “Why don’t you drink and mingle? Maybe finding a girl to fuck will do something good for you.”

Bob could smell the alcohol on Jake’s breath and he pinched his lips together.

I guess one night of drinking wouldn’t hurt.

Bob didn’t drink often. He wasn’t really a fan of the taste of beer, he preferred something fruity but drinking that in front of Jake would’ve definitely riled him up.

So instead, Bob took the beer Jake handed him and began to sip on it. Next thing he knew he was five beers in and smiling like an idiot at Natasha.

“What’re you smiling at?” She asks, a smile on her face.

“I think I wanna go mingle,” he slurs, looking around the room at all the beautiful women.

He stops when his eyes fall on her. She’s sitting in the back corner of the bar, laughing at something her friends say before her own eyes meet his.

He was in shock. She was the most beautiful person he’d ever seen. Big brown eyes so dark they were almost onyx, head full of unruly dark chocolate curls that fell down her back…and that smile. God that smile could’ve made a man melt right then and there.

“I’m talking to her,” Bob says as he begins to walk toward the beautiful girl he just laid eyes on.

~*~*~*~

You were sitting on a stool, sipping on the last of your beer as your friends talked about the aviators to your left.

“Hey, Y/N,” your friend Kate slurs. “There’s a cute guy coming your way.”

You turn to your right to see a man in the khaki uniform Aviators in the Navy wear. His eyes are dark blue, basically navy. On his thin lips, a sloppy smile appears when you finally make eye contact with him.

“He’s cute,” you tell them.

“And he’s coming,” Kate laughs.

“Hi,” the man says, a hand placed on the table next to you. “I’m Bob.”

He’s even more handsome up close. His glasses are pushed down the bridge of his nose, so you reach up and lightly push them back up.

“Hi, Bob,” you respond. “I’m Y/N.”

“I saw you over there,” he starts, pointing to where his buddies watch. “And thought you were the most gorgeous woman in this bar.”

You blush and smile. “Thank you, you’re not too bad yourself.”

He blushes at your remark but leans in and whispers, “Wanna dance?”

~*~*~*~

A dance turned into two dances, and then those two dances turned into three dances, including your ass pressed up against his already hard dick—which then turned into you pulling Bob into a dark hallway.

His large hands desperately grasped at your hips, sliding up your body and tangling at your scalp. His lips expertly searching and hungrily chasing after yours to deepen the kiss.

To him, you were soft in so many ways. From your soft lips to the smoothness of your skin, Bob wanted to stay here. Hell, he’d live in this dark hallway if he could.

His hands rake down your sides again, they stay at the waistband of your jeans.

“Can I?” He asks, playing with the button.

“Please do.”

His fingers move quickly as they unbutton and unzip your jeans before his right hand slides down the front of your pants. They move between the slickness between your folds and you moan in agonizing want.

“You’re so wet already,” he groans.

His fingers move in a circular motion over your clit, pleasure ringing and erupting all over your body.

“Tell me what you want me to do,” he whispers in your ear.

“I want you to fuck me with your fingers,” you whisper back, surprising yourself in the process.

He smiles against you, snaking two fingers lower into your jeans before sliding up and into you.

He moves them slowly, making sure you’re comfortable with his touch. But when you start to groan and grind against his fingers, he quickens his pace—kissing and sucking on your neck.

You wrap your arms around his neck, lifting a leg and feeling his other hand hold it up for you. “Fuck, that’s so good.”

“Yeah? You want me to make you come?” The vibration of his deep voice against your neck, sends a shiver down your spine and all you can do is nod.

Bob chuckles before quickening his pace inside you. It’s like his fingers know exactly where you need him to hit because each pound, every movement, is hitting exactly where you need him to be.

“I’m so close,” you moan.

“Come for me baby,” he groans. “Come on my fingers like a good girl.”

Obediently, you feel your body writhe in pleasure before shuddering an orgasm.

But Bob doesn’t stop.

He continues pumping into you, only stopping after you grab his wrist and pull his lips to yours.

“Keep doing that and I’ll be done for the night,” you mutter against his lips.

He pulls away, looking down at the beauty below him and is instantly struck with how beautiful you are up close. He realized it while you both were dancing, but the feel of your body grinding against him was clouding his brain. 

“You’re beautiful,” he rasps.

You blink up at him. “Are you saying that because you want me to go home with you?”

“N-no! Well I-I wouldn’t mind,” he stutters. He clears his throat, searching your eyes before smirking. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

When your sweet laugh reaches his ears, he realizes you were joking and leans down close to your ear.

“You could definitely come home with me if that’s what you want.”

“Can we?” You ask sweetly, redoing your zipper and button. 

Bob leans down to kiss you one last time, grinding his hips against yours.

“Absolutely.”

“Then take me home, Bob.” You tell him. 

“Yes, ma’am.” He kisses you one last time before taking your hand and guiding you to the exit door.

Multiple people (your friends and his) whooping as you both walk out. 

Listen, I was in the mood for some Bob and let me tell you this has been in the works for the past week because I just could not get into it. So I apologize if it seems like this is all over the place. I just needed to get finger banged by Bob 😏



[xxblairexxss]

Smitten (part 2 for ‘Everything Shower’)

Pairing : Charles leclerc x reader

Theme : Fluff

Feel free to slide in my inbox. I’m always open to talk about any ideas you would want to see in my upcoming fics!

Charles groaned as you pulled the drapes to the side, allowing the sun to illuminate the room.

“Morning, baby!” Your mood was clearly not on the same level with your boyfriend because he still had his eyes closed but his arm was stretched out when he sensed you walking closer to his side of the bed.

“For a second I forgot what happened to my image.” He scooted a little bit so you could sit by his side and started stroking on his cheek.

He looked so beautiful, even more beautiful with the morning sunlight. The way his eyelashes lined up along the ends of his eyelids, the way his mouth was slightly ajar as he breathed out. He wasn’t asleep anymore and you knew it from his grasp around you waist.

“Your lover boy image? Are you embarrassed that they found out you were obsessed with your own girlfriend?”

“No, I am the proudest boyfriend ever but I can’t stand them teasing me. Daniel would be attending this race too. As if things couldn’t get any worse.” He grumbled before you caught his arms and pulled him up to sit.

“Get up, bubs. It’s time for you to get ready.”

His arms found the way back to your waist again and he started planting kisses from your neck, up to your jawline and ended the train of kisses on your nose. “But I’m not done spending time with you yet. Care to join me for breakfast together?”

You weren’t a breakfast kind of girl because you would always feel nauseous if you eat something heavy in the morning and Charles knew it too. But you knew he had asked you just so that you two could pass time together before he spent the rest of the day in the pit today.

“Sure, let me get ready first.” You left a peck on his cheek before getting up to leave to the bathroom.

“Baby, count me in too.” Charles threw the duvet away from covering his half naked body and followed your steps. You couldn’t even brush your teeth alone.

kymillman

Liked by 346,767 others

kymillman Charles Leclerc arrived at the paddock. Not sure what happened but the crowds went wild!

username it’s the lover boy

username he looked completely different compare to y/n video

username bcs he’s with his gf in private you have never been in love bud?

username tough days ahead for him 🤭

﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎

After what happened at Silverstone Grand Prix, you just continued with your life as if you weren’t the one behind all those teasings he had to face during the weekend. Well, there was nothing wrong. It wasn’t like you aired your boyfriend’s dirty laundry.

Charles had told you that he kinda liked it because it kinda gave him a reason to mention you in interviews but he refused to admit the clingy part.

“Bubs, you are the clingy one.”

Charles firmly shook his head. “No, I’m not. I didn’t see you for 2 weeks so it was a moment of weakness.”

“So you are saying it won’t happen again? You won’t hug me like you usually do while I’m prepping my skin?” He had his hand under your oversized shirt as you leaned on his chest and you felt his thumb abruptly stopped from stroking the skin of your belly which caused you to giggle. You knew he liked clinging on you whenever you finished your shower. He liked the scent of your vanilla scent from your hair shampoo, the sweet fruity scent from your moisturizer. It was just accidentally being recorded in the tiktok because you were just trying to make a video, not because you tried to expose him.

He was quite and you could sense he was thinking hard, analysing every single consequences for every answer. “I can’t hug my girlfriend?”

“You just said it was a moment of weakness.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“You said, it was a moment if weakness.”

﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎

You turned on your phone and propped it against the box of cotton pads. A few skincare products were placed in front of it, careful not to cover the camera. Once everything was set up, only then you turned off the shower. You knew Charles would come in when he no longer heard the water flowing and you wouldn’t have enough time to set up your phone if you did it by then.

You had just washed your face when you heard a soft knock and a muffled voice coming from the outside.

“Baby, are you recording a video again?”

“No, why?”

Charles didn’t reply but you heard a faint creaking sound from the door being opened. “Nothing, I was just asking.” Your ‘not clingy’ boyfriend is now in the bathroom with you for no absolute reason. He didn’t go straight to embrace you as he usually did because you were glaring at him ever since he stepped in.

“I just wanted to check on my girlfriend….” It was as if he had read your mind before you could asked him, what are you doing here.

You continued with your skincare, serum, niacinamide, retinol all sorts of things while occasionally still glaring at him and your boyfriend was just there, staring at your reflection while touching all sort of products you had in front of you, itching to hold you like he always did but if it wasn’t the consequences of his own words. You knew he didn’t missed your look, he was just ignoring it.

“Oh? This is a new one. I have never seen this before.” Your boyfriend looked like a curious kid who just happened to find something new that was worth his attention. Charles stood up straight and took the product that caught his attention. “Chérie, what’s this? Looks like the one you always put on every time we go out.”

“That’s my lash serum, Charles.”

“Wow, you have serum for your lash too? How do you put it on?”

You took the product from his hand and twisted the cap to pull it open. “You put it on like how you always see me put on my mascara.”

“Put it on me.” He scooted his way in front of you, blocking you from seeing your reflection in the mirror and now the camera could only see his back that was leaned against the cabinet. Charles finally held you as he pulled you closer by your waist, making you stand as close as he could in between his legs.

“You can put it on yourself.”

“No, I don’t know how. You do it.”

“Such a baby.” You rolled your eyes and placed your hand on the side of his neck as the other one started carefully stroke the brushes on his long lashes. “You know, you really don’t need to put this one you already have long—“

“Ouch, that went into my eyes. It stings, baby!” Charles suddenly flinched and turned his head away. You immediately put the serum aside and tried to stepped away so you could do something, anything.

“I’m sorry! I’m so sorry! Wash it off. Come here, I’ll help you.”

“No.” He closed off his legs before you could move any further and you could feel his grip on your waist went tighter.

“What—“

Before you could finish your sentence, he slanted his body against you and hides his face in the creek of your neck.

“I just want to hold my girlfriend…can you stop glaring at me…please?”

And he didn’t say anything else. All you could hear after was just the sound of his breathing and warm breath against your skin.

“You scared me! Is this your moment of weakness again?” You stifled a giggle as you bring your hand on his fluffy hair and stroked it.

He hummed in response. He couldn’t pull you closer because you were practically latched on his body now. There wasn’t even an inch of space in between your bodies.

“No, I’m just smitten with love.”

ynusername

Liked by charles_leclerc, and 446,376 others

ynusername date night with my cuddly bby 🤎

username you are a saviour keep on feeding us the content

username we live for more content for boyfriend charles

danielricciardo I got goosebumps thinking about the video

landonorris Yeah, that’s a no from me

username CUTIES 🥰🥹

[hunn1e-bunn1e]

Denji Hayakawa - "Half Your Melon Bread"

🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.

In which a certain chainsaw devil man shares a sweet treat with a stranger at the park after shirking his devil hunting duties for the day. Or; In which you give Denji half of your melon bread out of sympathy poor hungry devil hunter boy. Part 2

                                                                                                   

🍞•♡•🥐•♡•🥖•♡•🫓•♡•🥨•♡•🥯•♡•🥞•♡•🧇

"Maaan, today was a long one"

Denji groaned out; stretching as he walked along the vacant street.

He had snuck off from Aki and Power not too long ago; ditching his assignment in favor of following a stray dog he'd spotted on the way. Unfortunately, he had lost sight of the dog soon after and now he was lost, wandering about the empty streets.

Just up ahead he spotted a park. It was one of those parks with a half playground; just a singular slide and a standard two-person swing set. There were also quite a few benches that littered the outer border and faced inward toward the playground.

But something caught Denji's eye or rather someone did. On a bench sat a lone person, a human, at least from what he could see at the distance he was standing from them.

Their back was turned to him, but he could see right off the bat that they had some kind of food given the way their arms and mouth were moving. From the ever-shrinking distance he found himself at, Denji believed it was a burger or something; he'd heard those were pretty damn good.

A nice, pillowy, sesame seed bun, melty cheese, crunchy pickles and onions, a thick juicy patty, and every condiment he could get his hands on... man, that sounds amazing right about now.

G U R G L E

Shit, now he was hungry.

Unfortunately due to ditching the blood-loving psycho and cock blocking top knot that were his partners, he had no money to buy food.

But the person on the bench had come to a stop next to his food... would they share with him? Or at least give him some money to buy his own? Probably not, but it's worth a try. So, the chainsaw devilman took a seat next to the stranger and simply glanced at their food from time to time, looking away every time they looked at him.

"Here."

The stranger softly spoke, catching the dirty blonde's attention.

In their hand was half of the packaged snack that they were previously holding; it looked like a bun but it was shiny with a criss-cross pattern on the top. Denji froze, not knowing how to respond; he didn't think he would get this far. Hell, he didn't even know what they were giving him.

"It's melon bread. I didn't poison it or anything; you saw it in the package already."

The stranger speaks again, this time standing up and holding the snack out the the devilman.

Hesitantly, Denji took it from their outstretched hand. He looked it over and lifted it to his nose, taking in it's fruity scent. Then he took a bite; and his mind was blown.

"I hope you enjoy it, you looked hungry. Well, see ya."

The stranger smiled at him gently, letting out a soft chuckle, before turning and walking away.

The dirty blonde-haired boy jumped a bit as he watched them walk away. Was it weird that he wanted them to stay here a bit longer? Should he tell them his name?

But, unfortunately for Denji, when he had finally made up his mind, the stranger was gone.

🍞•♡•🥐•♡•🥖•♡•🫓•♡•🥨•♡•🥯•♡•🥞•♡•🧇

🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.

Reblogs are appreciated ~ 𔓘

Wanna see similar content? Check out my Masterlist!

[jd07201990]

“Oh, come on Chuck! This’ll be my second time! You can’t keep forcing me to work another 40 years, just to make it to retirement and do it all again! It’s not yours or my fault that there aren’t enough young folk to take over our jobs! Hell, maybe if we paid a bit more, the few of them out there would apply!”

“It’s Lieutenant Roth, Billy. Now go change out of that equipment and take a shower. Whatever this remote does to strip away all those years, it sure does leave a young man ripe!”

“Don’t call me Billy! I haven’t been Billy in 30 years! Its Bill Damn it! And how am I supposed to explain this, again! to David?! You know he’s not into, well… this!”

“Put your shirt down Billy and quit your complaining. We’re doing something different this time, changing things up, trying something new. See, we couldn’t afford to pay higher wages all these years, because we’ve been stashing extra money away, for a new program. This remote can do a lot more than just wipe away years, Billy. The company has a whole app-store full of features, but they cost a hell of a lot. We only had enough for 2 new features, and we think it’ll really help solve this town’s aging population issue.”

“Wha… what the hell are you saying? What do you mean, something new?! Chuck, dude… you’re seriously starting to crack! What the fuck does any of this have to do with David?! And who is, “We”?!”

“I’m only going to tell you this once, son. It’s Lieutenant Roth. Now, I guess there’s no beating around the bush with you young-bloods. So I’ll get right to it. “We” is me, the Governor, and the Town Board. We investigated every possible fix, and it comes down to this. All the youth are moving out in droves, going to college, or fleeing to the city for excitement, leaving us aging folk to do the hard work around town. With the remote able to take years off a person, we’ve decided that all our current retirees, in every department, will be regressed, and the new feature we purchased will ensure you all follow your new, youthful instincts, providing us with a full generational bump in population.

You will be the hot-blooded virile stud you were way back in the day; you remember? Except this time, just as David isn’t attracted to this prime of your life look, YOU won’t be attracted to David, or any man for that matter. You see, we need all the help we can get, so with this little app, you’ll be chasing pretty women, and will certainly end up settling down, once one of them catches. Ah, by the look on your face, you know exactly what I mean.

Good, because you and the rest of the retirees are going to have your hands full, working these jobs getting paid just enough for a double-wide and a truck, leaving a trail of gals before you settle in with one, and have a whole mess of kids. "

“Ch… Lieutenant, sir… Wha… you’re insane dude! Fuckin’ totally cracked! You hear yourself! You can’t do this! I can’t be… I can’t chase… I don’t… don’t like…. Fuck… fuck dude… what the fuck are you doing?! Quit pointin’ that shit at me bro! My.. my head!”

“Don’t worry son, I’ll let you off the hook for all that mouthing off. It’s got to be rough having your brain completely flipped inside out, dumped out and filled with everything you need to be a, productive, member of society. Isn’t that right Billy?”

“Wha.. Oh, hey Lieutenant! So uh, is it ok if I head off to the showers and hit the road? Kind of a slow night huh sir? If it’d be alright, I want to go down to the Strip and hit the bar. The dudes and I figured we’d start the weekend early, ya know? Gotta get get some tail on lock before the storms hit. Thinkin’ I might run into Becka too, you know, from Thornton Stables? God she’d look real pretty, all knocked up good n’ proper!”

“Oh alright son. Go ahead, take the night off. But you’re on call. Got it! One or two beers, maybe a shot, take some cash and buy the lass one of those fruity drinks, and you treat her like a lady, young man. Got it?”

“Got it Dude! I mean Lieutenant! I’ll make a lady outa her yet! Thanks for the money too! Ya know how rough it is on the town’s wages! Although you and the Board seem to be doin’ alright. I hope I can get to where you are, Sir!”

“Don’t worry Billy, you’ve got a good 40 years or so to work your way up! Go have fun tonight!”

[newkatzkafe2023]

From most to least, how much do the monkey kings like tire swings?

This

(Lmk Wukong) 11/10 He would love a tire swing bringing out his hidden man child. You set it up for a beach party you and Mk were throwing, and Wukong and the baby monkies had a blast. Not to mention you and Wukong getting to swim and stay cool together, too🥰

(HIB Wukong) 7/10 Pretends to hate the tire swing, but loves to watch you and the kids use it. You made it for Luier and Silly girl to add to the Village playground, and those two found themselves using it one every day. Though, when nobody's around, Wukong would chill and swing in it, but just to heal his inner child.

(MKR Wukong) 5/10 He doesn't like tire swings very much, but he always likes watching you and fruity use it. You had made a tire swing at Flower Fruit Mountain one day, and Wukong, for some reason or another, felt like it was an insult to himself. Though you do look super adorable and childlike whenever you go swinging, Wukong would have to hold back a squeal.

(NR Wukong) 9/10 man you just Encourage him to just join you on the tire swing, I mean the mini monkies already joined you. Even Li and Su joined on swinging and jumping into the water, that's when Wukong finally joined in on the fun in the water. After all he gets to admire his hot adoring wife in your pink polkadot bikini, stealing wet kisses from him😘

(Netflix Wukong) 10/10 that swing is sooo much fun to him, and he would play on it all day of you let him. He's totally shameless with it you would hear his excited voice as Wukong Swings into the air laughing with his eyes closed. You totally healed his inner child with that swing especially when he gets Lin and you to join.

(BMW Wukong) 3/10 No way it feels way to embarrassing for him to be on a tire swing built for small children. Though he has no issues letting you swing on it, along with the monkies and their cubs having fun and jumping into water. Wukong would have a small smile with the way you get along with all his subjects.

(Destined one) 2/10 you'll have the Destined one sigh at the distraction you made for yourself. You laugh and steal as you swing high in the air, totally enjoying your newfound activity. The Destined one, on the other hand, wouldn't be found dead using that thing and decided to just let you play and enjoy it.

FEEL FREE TO REBLOG

[sulumuns-dootah]

can I request a Paimon fic where they and MC go on a picnic date?

Paimon x gn!Reader - Chocolate covered strawberries♡

⟡ Masterlist ⟡

A/N: I haven't written anything for Paimon in so long and only now realised how much I missed it! No relationship is specified, but it is one where you two are okay with a lot of physical contact ^^

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

'Y/N~! Come quicklyyy! I'm at: ' a rather alarming message from Paimon read. The lack of emojis or any other indicator of tone or context made you worried about their safety after they sent you a location which indicates they're on the outskirts of Gehenna where angel attacks are more common.

Your fear is quickly replaced with confusion once yous tart nearing the place Paimon sent you. There are no signs of angels nor attacks. Instead, upon getting closer, you notice Paimon under one of the gorgeous, ancient Hell oaks on something that looks like pink tartan blanket.

It takes a second to shake away the adrenaline from thinking you're rushing to help a dying demon and only after the initial shock you finally realise what's actually happening.

"Pai, what is this? You almost scared me to death! I thought you were getting attacked!" you scold the adorable demon, still catching your breath from running most of the way and then having to climb the rather steep hill.

"Oh~?... I'm sorryyy, Y/N! I didn't mean tooo... It's just that I noticed that the chocolate on the straberries I made was starting to meltttt." Paimon sadly pouts, looking down at the red fruit in their hands.

Looking around you notice all the various foods and snacks alongside two full wine glasses and a bottle of your favorite drink. A... picnic?

Paimon notices your puzzled expression and giggles while getting up from the ground, handing you one fo the glasses that are now in their hands, "Well~, you did say nobody's ever invited you to a real dateeee, so I wanted to be the first oneee!"

"Aw, that's so sweet of you! Thanks!" you light up and accept the drink handed to you. Your legs slightly shake from the workout as you're sitting down while trying not to spill your drink.

"I hopeee you like what I've gotten for youuu! I asked His Majesty Satan to help me pickkk~!" Paimon takes their seat beside you and you only now realise why all of a sudden Satan liberated you of all duties for the rest of the day. He knew all along.

"Don't worry Pai, I'll like whatever you've picked for me! Sometimes you even know me better than I know myself!" you smile widely with genuine happiness.

"Aw~! Y/N~! You're so cuteee!" the demons queals and squishes their cheek against yours. A sweet smell of cotton candy and fruity bubblegum only now reaches your nose and it reminds you why you like Paimon so much. Their cheery attitude is a breath of fresh air amongst all the demons with dark auras.

The two of you sit, eat and chat for so long, the sun's gone down and the first shy stars start appearing on the darkening horizon. When you first came to Hell, you didn't expect to see stars with Heaven right above you, but as it turns out, there are visible stars, and even more beautiful than those on earth.

"Y/N~ I'm glad you're hereee. And I don't mean here as in hereee, but here in general~! You make us all so happyyy~" Paimon sighs, leaning back against a pillow next to you as you're both staring up at the millions of glowing dots.

"Aw, Pai! I'm super glad to be here too!" you giggle and lean back next to Paimon who pulls you in for cuddles.

As the night progresses, the two of you eventually fall asleep together only to be woken up in the morning by Zagan who was tasked to go look for you to make sure you're both okay.

[multific]

King’s Landing Market

Aemond Targaryen x Reader

Summary: You just wanted to go to the market, you never expected to get hurt.

When Aemond kicked the door open, everyone inside jumped, including you.

The healer just finished putting a bandage onto your finger.

"Leave us!" Aemond barked as everyone quickly left. 

He was quiet, the room felt extremely cold, but it could be just his stare.

You knew he was waiting for an explanation. 

"I went to the market. I had guards with me, they wanted to take my jewelry when the guards were distracted. When the guards realized what was happening, they panicked. They snatched my ring, but by doing so they broke my finger." you showed Aemond your wrapped up pinky.

"You shouldn't have been there in the first place."

"I told you I wished to go and see the merchants. I told you I would go even if you disagree."

"And you got hurt as a result."

"It is only a finger."

"You should have disguised yourself better. Or you should have listened and didn't go in the first place."

"I heard the market holds a special event. People from all over the world would come to sell. I wished to see it. But I got robbed even before I could get to the first one." you pouted as you looked at your hands.

"I hope you learned from it." Aemond said before he turned and left the room.

---

The next day, once again, you were getting ready. 

"And where are you going?" Aemond's voice startled you.

"To the market."

"Did you learn nothing?!"

"Two thieves are not going to derail me from my goal. I wish to purchase goods! I wish to see what they have to offer. I heard they have special silks and treats."

"You cannot go."

"I will go Aemond, you could either come with me or stay here. But I am going."

You said as you quickly put your bag around you. You looked at him, not moving.

"I know you are worried. Come with me then, it would be a good time." you offered a small smile to him, hoping it would help him.

And it did. 

"I shall go with you then."

---

Walking around with Aemond wasn't exactly how you imagined it when yesterday you suggested the idea to him.

You hoped it would be a romantic day, but it turned into Aemond looming over you like a guard dog, scaring people with his hood up and eyepatch.

You tried to ignore him and walked in between the merchants.

Something caught your eye.

A lovely pair of earrings.

"My Lady! Your taste is amazing, those are made out of real sapphire." you held the earrings in your hands, you really did like them.

"How much for them?"

"They are only two golds, My Lady." you dug into your pocket and fished out two golds and handed them to the merchant who smiled at you.

You put the earrings away before moving to a new shop.

You noticed glass jars with what looked like candles in them.

"My Lady, good day. Would you be interested? These are candles."

"Never seen something like this."

"They are scented."

"Oh? How so?"

"My lovely wife's idea. You light it and it gives the room a lovely smell. Here, try it, this one smells of lavender." Aemond observing everyone around you.

"I am not too fond of lavenders I'm afraid."

"No problem, how about a more fruity scent? Perhaps strawberry?" you nodded and the merchant handed you a jar.

"This smells really lovely. So sweet. Your wife is wonderful."

"Thank you, My Lady." the man now looked at Aemond. "Would your husband like to smell?" he tried to hand Aemond a jar but Aemond only turned. 

"I'm afraid as long as you don't sell weapon-scented ones, he wouldn't be so interested." you giggled it made the merchant laugh as Aemond just rolled his eyes. "I would like to buy one of the strawberry, the vanilla and what is this?"

"It is mint."

"One of that as well please." 

"Of course, just do not put them next to curtains, please blow them out if you head to bed. Wouldn't want your house to be burnt down."

"Of course." you handed him the money before taking the items. "I should have bought a basket." you smiled at Aemond before heading towards the food items.

"Do you plan on buying everything?" his voice came out harsher than he intended.

"Possibly. It is your money after all." you looked serious. Perhaps way too serious for Aemond to say if you were joking or not. But of course you were. "No need to be so harsh Aemond." you smiled at him as he watched you walk to yet another merchant.

Aemond would be lying to himself if he said he wasn't happy to spend the day with you. 

He loved it very much, that whenever you found something, let that be a dress or fabric or jewellery, your eyes started to shine so beautifully. 

But he knew he had to be vigilant. He would not let anything like yesterday happen again. Every time he caught a glimpse of the wrap on your finger, he was reminded of that. 

But he also noticed just how kind and sweet you were when you talked with the people.

A lady just sold you some chocolate-covered nuts. 

"Try one." you said offering one to Aemond, he thought you would hand it to him, but no, you raised your fingers to his lips and he would take it like that. Aemond wasn't one for sweets, but this, he truly did enjoy. Maybe it was because they came from you. He wasn't sure. "Do you like it?" you asked so sweetly.

"Hm." his reply was simple, but you were used to it. You grabbed his hand, feeling bolder as you pulled him with you.

---

After dinner, you were back in your chamber, getting ready for bed, you brushed your hair.

You smiled as you softly hummed a tune.

What an amazing day you had.

Even if you and Aemond didn't marry out of love, you two still found companionship within each other.

You smiled as Aemond entered the room.

The soft scent of vanilla hit his nose as he noticed the candle lit by your side.

You soon finished with your hair as you blew out the candle and headed to bed.

Aemond was already in bed by the time you joined him.

You laid on your side, extending your hand and placed it on his chest.

"I had fun today." you whispered to him. "Wish we could do it more often. I really enjoyed my time with you, Husband."

Aemond's fingers soon found your wraps as he let out a sigh as he felt you flinch a little when he touched your hurt pinky.

"I should have been there. This wouldn't have happened."

"I'm just said I lost the ring. I quite liked that one you know."

"I will have hundreds more made."

"No need. At least the necklace you gave me is not gone. I like that one much more." you closed your eyes, ready to sleep when you heard him speak up.

"I enjoyed today quite as well, Wife." you hummed as he pulled your hand to his lips. He turned to face you, watching you as you drifted off to sleep.

"I can't sleep if you stare at me." you whispered, giggling a little before opening your eyes and meeting his. You moved close to him, placing your head under his chin, and wrapping your arms around him.

You let out one last sigh before falling off to sleep.

Aemond soon followed.

Taglist: @fleursirvart​ @greenarrowhead​ @thisismysecrethappyplace​ @sincerelyfan​ @theoneanna​ @aestheticsandmarvel​ @rororo06​ @castellandiangelo​ @destynelseclipsa​ @spilledinkindumpster​ @capsiclesdoll​ @puknow​ @alwayshave-faith​ @alex12948​ @lxdyred​  @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl​ @anonymoussherlockandmarvelgeek​ @praline357​ @trshngyn​ @avengers-r-us​ @violet-19999​ @top1bbgloak​   @manduse​   @jacalineiscomingforyou​  @mandoloriancookie​

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

DO NOT STEAL, PLAGIARISE, REPOST OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS  

[chimimon]

Your Words

Astarion x f!Reader

Disclaimer! What you are about to read contains the following: suggestive, like more so than I have previously written, I think… jealously, biting, and it ends pretty abruptly because I don’t plan on posting smut here, so sorry about that y’all. If I missed any tags let me know! Please! Like fr send an ask my way and let chi know!!

& what I have to say is… This game has me in a chokehold. Baldurs Gate 3 has me in a headlock. Like unimaginably so. I’m hyper fixated all over again but this time a stupid fruity vampire calls me beautiful and asks to bite my neck and I asjdjwwsjidkekwakksdnb :) oh, and trigger warning for Halsin mention. <- E.P.

No eyeful sufficed; it was not enough to simply imagine being intertwined when the sudden ache began a week or so ago while Astarion had been playing with a blade. It was one of those things he did often enough to be called routine, ordinary, or unsurprising. What did not happen as often or routinely was how keen your attention had been on such fixed activities. A dozen times over you had traced his veins, memorizing when they were most defined on his knuckles, his forearms and whether it led to the toss of his knife or not. Worse than that, his sleeves were rolled up and around the two-minute mark he noticed your hypnotic gaze. 

Curious, Astarion wanted to see for just how long he could keep your attention as he made a show of stretching his fingers afterwards, adjusting his sleeves, rolling his wrists and shoulders before sitting onto the floor with his head in his hands to watch the fire from his tent. Only then did he turn his attention to you with a raised brow and all-knowing smirk. It was obvious you were unaware of your staring as you quickly turned away. 

But it felt as though every ten minutes you would find something new about him to gawk at, and Astarion read you all too well. In frozen observation you hardly blinked in between shallow breathes. The deeper into thought you dove, the more your shoulders sunk, and the more your shoulders sunk, so dropped your eyelids. 

The attention was reminiscent of your behavior at the Tiefling party. After he made his tipsy proposal, he carefully studied just how aware you were of the events to come in every interaction you had before the night ended. How restless you seemed when you lied coyly on your rolled bed. Or just how often you touched your face and neck as you met him in your shared hidden place. Astarion loved how clearly he took up your mind, how blatant it was. He reveled in your tunneled attention and patiently waited for you to give him the word, or a signal of sorts, feeling that it would be nice to have you initiate intimacy as he was secure in your thoughtfully lustful desire. 

But no move was made. 

Tonight, it seemed Gale had no issue making conversation with you from across the campfire as you two were loudly going over alchemy notes from a journal Astarion picked up just for you. You began to pull out leaves and branches from a pouch in your lap, holding them to fire for light as Gale leaned in studiously. It didn’t mean anything, Astarion was sure of it, but if he thought that if he was newly recruited or hadn’t known any better, he would’ve thought you and Gale were a thing within this flame lit scene which burned into Astarion mind as he replayed the last six days. 

It was as though you were scared to be near Astarion, to get close to him, to talk to him, but with him alone. Watching him the way animals watch prey, but without any stalk in your stride, without a wiggle or means to pounce. Just heavy glances and light sighs. Karlach had snapped you out of this state a couple of times as it was in her nature to melt you into an easy, giggling mess. Wyll found something that reminded him of some grand adventure while walking a trail and you two seemed to bond over the found item, making Astarion snort. Shadowheart had also decided to warm up in your company and grew intent with whatever you had to say. The way she looked at you seemed far too soft and sticky for friendship and her demeanor buzzed inside of Astarion’s memory. 

But the straw that broke the camel's back was Halsin. Despite you currently seated across Astarion, now handing over some mugwort to Gale, he could no longer ignore having overheard Halsin’s request to keep you company, and how inconsiderately close he was to Astarion’s tent moments ago. By then Astarion was just waiting for you to stop by to talk about it, unsure and indifferent to whether you wanted his permission to canoodle with Halsin. But when you b-lined to the campfire, a suspicious creeping feeling pushed him onto his feet to be seated on the log in front of you. Since he became aware of your careful watch, he noticed how keenly you avoided him and began to wonder if you watched him the way rabbits watch dogs; to run. 

Gale would not stop talking, so Astarion took it upon himself to quietly appear beside him, peering over his shoulder with a tilted stare at you. When your eyes met and widened, Gale slowly, and unknowingly turned to Astarion before he could be cartoonishly and audibly spooked by the elven vampire's sudden appearance. Gale took it as a sign to leave and politely excused himself from your company. Those blood-soaked eyes followed Gale until he was hidden behind a couple bushes toward his tent. 

Astarion seemed to be squinting, his eyes moving from yours, down to your mouth, before landing on your lap. You scrunched your nose when his gaze returned and he rolled his eyes before letting out an annoyed, airy laugh. “My love, should I be concerned?” 

You were obviously uncomfortable with your lap sewn shut, and your posture too taut. “Concerned? About what?” Your brows furrowed before opening. Every muscle melted as you tilted your head, mirroring him. "I mean, I haven’t taken Halsin on any offer to play hunter and bear.” 

He leaned back, deepening his stare, annoyed at your stiff disposition when that stupid wizard got to have you malleable and full of conversation. 

You nervously smiled and averted your eyes. “You know I would ask if I ever wanted to-” 

“Would...” He interrupted. “Of course, you knew I overheard his little, steamy proposal. But that’s not why I’m hurt.” 

It was written all over your face that you were replaying the conversation with Halsin, trying to figure out where you may have gone wrong or if you sounded too open to the opportunity. Asatrion continued when you began to chew on your bottom lip. “Darling, you hardly look me in the eye anymore.” His chest deflated as he huffed out another whiny plume of air. “I mean, before I at least knew that you could talk to me about, well, all of this.” 

All of this swiftly caught your attention. 

“Astarion.” You calmly said, ignoring the ache you pressed between your thighs as you ran your hands over your lap. “What do you mean by ‘this’?” You could swear your heart was beating loud enough to let everyone in camp know that Astarion was the item of your mind consuming lechery. Gods, you could knead dough with how hard your palms pressed into your thighs in some feeble attempt to calm a carnal throb. 

“This.” He whined with his hands apart, referring to you two. “Don’t be coy. You’ve been keeping an awfully close eye on me, and more than that you’ve kept your distance.”  

“Oh.” You whispered, ripping away the steady eye contact. 

“Oh? What do you mean oh-?” 

“Astarion.” You stood up, awkwardly fidgeting your feet before you rocked back and forth from your heels to your toes. “Astarion can I... I can, um.” 

Everything stiff and cold was interrupted with nervous stretching, like you were forcing yourself to warm up in his presence, and he was unsure if he should be bothered or relieved by it. 

With mean sarcasm he said, “Your words, darling." 

“Don’t- I mean.” You softly snapped, making him nervous. “Could we um… can we maybe speak somewhere private?” 

Astarion shrugged, lifted off the log before motioning that you lead the way. When the way led to his tent, he got anxious. To him the conversation could go a couple of ways. One of them being you were too nervous to ask to be with Halsin, and that despite him willing to grant his permission, given his current mood, it would be reluctant permission to say the least. The other way was that you were unsure how to tell Astarion you couldn’t do it anymore. It meaning to be with him, and for that he couldn’t blame you, at least not honestly. The fear of you abandoning him after one good night, in what felt forever ago, grew as you motioned him to sit across from you, both of you on your knees as he watched you struggle once again to look at him in the eye. 

He could practically hear it in your inhale, see it in your clenched fists over your knees, and in your eye contact as you finally faced him. 

In your mind, everything felt intimate, close, hot even. You could feel your fingernails dig into your palms and you were sure you’d bleed if you balled your fists further. “I’m not sure how to word this without...” 

He held in a vain breath, slowly nodding while you searched for the words. 

“This is so stupid.” You grimaced, bring a knuckle to your teeth. “Astarion can I just-” 

“You can see him.” He said with feigned relief. 

“Who?” Your hands relaxed. 

“Halsin.” 

“What? No, wait.” Your whole body melted as you tried so hard to read the man in front of you. “What the hells are you talking about?”  “You don’t have to be so embarrassed, I mean,” Astarion leaned back, sighing more dramatically as he had already come to terms with surrendering you over to him. “I mean who would I be to keep you-” 

“Stop.” You held out your hands, shaking them with the same vigor used to shake your head. “Good hells Astarion, no.” You laughed, finally feeling ready to be open about your needs. 

Astarion shot back up with a raised brow, tilting his head again as he drummed on his lap. “Okay, well now I really don’t know what you want to talk about.” 

The growing silence was easy to bear in the sight of your smile, shy and bashful, making him a little hopeful that this was going to be an easier conversation. 

“Great because I’m going to sound stupid.” You sheepishly smiled. 

“As if I just didn’t.” He sucked in his teeth. “Come on darling, spit it out.” 

“Not if you’re going to ask me to spit it out.” 

“My sweet.” The snap in his tone caused you to really look at his face, and he looked anxious. His brows were together and lifted, he may as well have been pouting but you were finally noticing it. “If it’s distance you want, I can provide.” He looked down past your head before his eyes trailed around his space. “I mean you don’t have to go as far as to fighting battles as far from me as humanly possible.” 

“Oh, good gods no.” You leaned down to catch his gaze once more. “Wait no that’s not what this is.” 

“Then what the fuck is this?” 

“I’m just feeling very…” you flicked your hands in the air like you were pushing away the anxiety. “I’ve been feeling rather needy lately.” 

“Needy?” 

“I don’t want to spell it out.” 

“I think I need you to.” 

“Damn it, Astarion.” It was clear he was going to quietly wait, as he was also sitting in front of your exit. “Needy, needy meaning… aroused... I’ve been very horny, lately.” With both hands on your face, you hunched over. “I’m sorry,” was muffled into your palms before your hands slid down to see his reaction. 

Astarion had a bashful but at ease smile on his face. He let out a sharp laugh until he finally really looked at you. You were gripping your thighs, your eyes dilated and round. The animal like stare and careful distance kind of made sense. “And I thought I scared you away, sweetheart.” 

“Quite the opposite.” You whispered, unable to maintain eye contact “So, if you’ll excuse me-” 

 Astarion hummed as he dropped in. His hands planted themselves on either side of your lap, his nose inches away from yours. “And if I won’t?” 

Paralyzed, you held your breath and could feel your resolve snapping. “Astarion, I just… I said… are you sure?” He coyly rolled his eyes, pretending to think about it. “I can be patient.” You breathed, leaning back before he quickly scooted in, catching your chin in his hand before you could retreat. 

“Oh, don’t go running away again. Not when I want you.” He was studying your eyes and lips. You seemed so lost in his tent. “Not when I need you.” 

“You’ve had me, and I promise I can wait.” You whispered. “Please don’t tease me.” The quiet begging pulled at his chest and his desire. 

Then Astarion smiled wickedly. “Don’t think I can’t smell the arousal from less than a foot in front of my nose.” Quickly he snatched your wrist. If your hand were a rabbit, and your wrist its neck, he nuzzled his cheek against its head, playfully biting the neck of the rabbit before you could try to pull away. “And I don’t care to tease pretty things like you,” poisonous desire spilled from his mouth as he asked, “But when you say needy, what exactly to you require of me?” 

Mindlessly you shook your head as you feebly fought to take your hand back. 

“Your words, darling.” 

“Astarion, please this is-” 

“Embarrassing?” He purred. 

You held your breath as he faced your palm, from the corner of he could feel the heat in your face emit on his as he sighed again. “This couldn’t be nearly as embarrassing as the competition I have, my love.” A shit eating grin plastered onto his face as confusion appeared on yours. “You know... when your hand gets more of affection than I do.” 

Humiliated and hot. You were completely humiliated and hot as he waited for you to respond. 

“I mean your I’m sure your fingers can only do so much for so long in my place.” 

Past embarrassment you felt it necessary to say “Astarion, you know that I need you beyond anything you can do for me.” 

“So, you have been touching yourself, naughty girl,” he kissed your middle and ring finger without breaking eye contact. 

“I- Astarion I wouldn’t have,” you balled up your hand in which his thumb smoothed it open again. With little force you pushed forward to cup his face with him still latched in your wrist. “I just- gods I just worry you wouldn’t say no if you didn’t want to just because I’m asking.” 

“I do say no, & I have.” His hold loosened as he pulled back, taking in the soft concern on your face before the thought of that hand between your thighs flashed in his mind. Astarion’s eyes lids dropped, your kind concern caused him to be hard with arousal while his ruby eyes glistened. “Must I worry you won’t ask even if I’ll honestly say yes?” 

Your bottom lip was white between your teeth, so he reached out to hold your jaw, his fingers pressing in as you went doe-eyed and dazed. He was so close to your lips, so he whispered on your mouth. “Go on, my sweetheart. Ask.” 

“Astarion…” his breath tickled your bottom lip as your stomach dropped. 

“Yes, darling?”  

“Please…” you voice trailed off as the humiliation of it all set in. 

“Please what?” Astarion lifted you up as he lifted on his knees, looming over you as he brushed your hair behind one ear with his free hand. “I don’t think I know what you want.” 

With all the excitement this brought, you quietly asked. “I want you to please kiss me. Please kiss me, Astarion.” And without a second lost, he pulled you into his hungry kiss, cupping your face with both hands as he pushed into you. 

© 2024 chimimon

[cherry-velvet-skies]

Marigolds In The Porch Lights (18+)

Gardener!George Harrison × GN!Reader

Genre: Smut (FINALLY), but also some Fluff and Angst

Warnings: A poor attempt at a shower sex scene, unprotected sex (ALWAYS USE PROTECTION, Y'ALL), and some kinda twisted feelings I guess idk these two are just constantly teasing each other

Words: 6.4k (I had so much fun with this y'all)

Summary: 1971 era; SEQUEL TO STRAWBERRY LEMONADE; George and Reader finally have their time together; also Geo is not famous in this so I guess it counts as AU lol

A/N: MUST READ STRAWBERRY LEMONADE FIRST FOR THIS TO MAKE SENSE! But honestly the amount of requests I got to make a sequel, anyone who's here has probably already read S.L. (also thank you for all the requests! <3)

==============================

==============================

One week had gone by since the blossoming of your new relationship with George, and you could not stop thinking about him. Calling him during the week just for your own pleasures seemed rather selfish, so you forced yourself to wait the full week until his next Saturday gardening job. After all, that wouldn’t be fair to his personal schedule, now would it?

Now, here it was, the fateful Saturday afternoon, and the anticipation was swarming you. You knew that you were always his last appointment of the week, and you would have him all to yourself from now until the sunset. You contemplated walking outside naked to greet him, but quickly remembering that neighbors exist, the idea was obligated to fade away. You still wished you could, though.

You left the gate unlocked, allowing him to let himself in. He was so caring of your space, taking time to lock the gate behind him so as not to allow the opportunity of any unwanted guests. You waited by the patio for him, prepared with another plate of fresh strawberries and a cold glass of lemonade. You made enough for two this time, specifically if those two were going to be staying together for a while.

Upon George’s entry, he eyed the fruity treats reminiscent of his previous time here. Instead of helping himself to a snack, he approached you to place a patient kiss upon your lips, wrapping an arm tightly around your waist as he did so. His other hand held his gardening toolkit, keeping it at his side while you deepened the kiss. George was almost ready to drop the bag and take you in his arms, but felt he should at least accomplish what you’re paying him for first.

“How have you been?” You started, having a bit more courage to talk to him this time. He laid out his tools as he knelt in the grass.

“Doing what I normally do, I guess.” He replied absentmindedly, “Though I was excited to get back here and see how the strawberry seeds are doing.” He flashed you a cheeky grin, and your shoulders instantly floated down to a more relaxed stance. George wasn’t big on expressing his true feelings directly, but he had his own ways of getting his point across. You slowly drifted off, listening to his voice as he spoke, until he stopped, and you realized he was waiting for you to answer his question.

“Pardon?” You squeaked, causing George to tilt his head in confusion.

“You have been watering the strawberries, right?” He repeated, gesturing to the empty space beside him, “The soil looks moist, so I’d say they’re doing well.”

“Oh! Yes,” You giggled, “I purchased a book on how to care for them the morning after you planted it.” A wide smile spread on George’s face, giving you a short nod and happily moving on to the next patch of flowers. You wore a scarlet colored dress today, planning for him to give you a matching rose from your garden. You concluded that you were the one who could determine which type of flower you receive by the color you chose to wear that day. You weren’t sure if George was also aware of this arrangement, or he just enjoyed finding flowers for you too much to notice.

You had treated this time you spent with George almost like your first date. You wanted to know everything there is to know about him, no matter how minor. In the hours that he had been there, you learned that George also knew how to play guitar, and he enjoyed writing songs, but was never really interested in the life of fame and performing to the public, so he preferred not to pursue it. Being a gardener and getting as much time in nature as he could was more than enough to make him happy.

The time went faster than you both wanted it to, partly because this time felt like you had known each other for years. George had even taken the time to show you how to tend to certain flowers, as the rules differed based on the type of plant. He showed you all his tools, demonstrating how to use them and the best places to start to preserve the flowers, as well as any of his personal favorite natural additives to help the flowers grow. You now knew that adding common household items, such as white vinegar or banana peels can give your flowers a speed boost. George even explained how ground coffee could be beneficial to the soil if you decided to start growing vegetables. His wide range of knowledge was better than any purchasable book could provide.

Before you knew it, the sky was growing orange, and the sunset was upon you. More time to spend with George aside from his occupational responsibilities was not completely out of the question, so you hadn’t lost hope yet. That is, until you saw him reach for his bag to start packing up his tools.

“You’re leaving?” You blurted out, not wanting to sound desperate but your body not even giving you a chance to consider your words. “You just got here!”

George glanced down at his watch, eliciting a small chuckle. “I’ve been here for three hours, love.”

“Well it felt like three seconds to me.” You pouted, crossing your arms and slumping back against the tree you were sitting under. “And you said we would do more together next time! That’s what you said the last time you were here!”

“And we did, didn’t we?” George replied, not missing a beat. “Last time, there was much more uncomfortable silence. This time, we had a wonderful conversation.” He paused to remove his gloves and place them in the pocket on the side of his bag, slowly rising from where he was seated in the grass. “That’s a pretty big improvement, don’t you think? It’s something I can cherish, especially since we won’t be seeing each other next week.”

Your eyes widened. Initially, you weren’t sure if you had heard him correctly, but it was true. First you had missed out on quality time with George and now next week he wasn’t going to come by? You felt your heart sink, trying your hardest to keep the tears from escaping your eyes.

“Why not?” You whined, a little louder this time. You didn’t want to sound like you were throwing a tantrum, but it was difficult when that was exactly what you wanted to do.

“I’ll be out of town next weekend.” George replied matter-of-factly, “I’m going to visit my family as one of my relatives is getting married. The wedding is on Saturday, so I’ll be gone the whole weekend.”

You wanted to cry. You wanted to scream. You wanted to do anything that would make him stay. But why? He didn’t do anything wrong, but your impression of how the day would go when he got here was a lot different than how it actually went down. You felt like you were lied to, except that you weren’t. Last week, George said that you would ‘make more time for each other’ this time, and technically, you did. He never said what that time was going to be spent on. Perhaps you two had different ideas as to what his return would bring. But instead, you tightened your chest, putting away that tantrum for your alone time later.

“But I thought-” You stopped yourself, knowing that telling George what you really wanted could potentially lead to unwanted results, especially if he didn't feel the same way.

“Thought what?” George asked, staring at you as you mentally cursed yourself for popping a corner of the lid on Pandora's Box. “Did you have a plan for today?” He was too clever. There was no going back now.

“Well…” You started, feeling a blush creep up onto your cheeks, “Sort of…”

“Oh?” He teased, the sunset casting a brilliant sparkle on those dark brown eyes, “Well, come on then. Out with it.” You pursed your lips, shifting your gaze to the floor. George leaned in closer, the coarse hairs of his mustache brushing against the shell of your ear. “So long as we're pretending I don't already know.”

He knew what you wanted. He was going to make you say it.

You stood concerningly still, almost frozen. It was a battle of wits, but you weren't exactly sure if you wanted to win or lose. If you gave up now, and spilled your guts, would you get what you wanted? Or would George continue to string you along, making you wait anyway just to see you squirm?

George sighed, looking at his watch again. “Well,” he huffed, feigning annoyance, “if you have nothing else to say, I suppose I should be going now.” He kissed your cheek, wedging his hand into your own to leave his complementary petal before making his way to the gate. You couldn't even look at him as he left, feeling too embarrassed. Instead, you looked down at your hand. A rose petal, no surprise. You were about to head inside until you heard George call your name. You partially turned around, still feeling rather conflicted. He was standing on the other side of the gate, pointing towards the patio.

“I'd turn that light on if I were you. It gets rather dark out here.” He waited for you to respond. You slowly nodded, approaching the back stairs. And with that, he got in his car and drove off.

You flipped the switch, watching as the porch light came on. It was a glimmering golden yellow hue, expanding its beam about halfway through the garden. You weren't sure why George told you to put it on, but it did make the garden look brighter. Even when you were angry with him, you would still do whatever he wanted you to.

But why were you angry? George hadn't done anything wrong. You knew he was teasing you, but you didn't care. In fact, there was a part of you that liked it. You felt like he was playing with you without even touching you. Wrapped so tightly around his finger that you felt like it was your life force. It strangled you in the best way possible. Like an invisible leash secured around your neck, and he could pull you wherever he wanted. You were completely and truly captivated by him.

Slipping quietly into the house, you felt like you wanted to cry. The anger had subsided and was soon replaced by a persistent longing. Your disdain towards having to go two weeks without seeing George wasn’t even due to the fact that you were crazy about him. It had become a routine. At this point, you wished you hadn’t been so shy to start a conversation with him the first three times he showed up. That you hadn’t waited until just this previous week. Maybe things would be different now. Maybe you’d be closer.

You didn’t know where to go from there. Part of you accepted this as what it was, and you would see George eventually, while another part of you felt defeated that you wanted to do something about this when you knew you couldn’t.

When you woke up the next morning, your house felt quieter, despite you having always lived alone. Almost like George had been staying in the guest room this whole time unbeknownst to you. Perhaps he was a frequent visitor to the guest room in your brain.

You spent the rest of your weekend like any other weekend: it was another gorgeous spring day, and you loved to sit out on the patio and catch up on your reading while you enjoyed your lunch or an afternoon snack, hearing the faint melodies coming from your living room of whatever record you put on for the occasion. It was the only time you actually preferred being alone. Perhaps it was the only activity potent enough to fill the void of your longing for George.

When night came again, you headed inside, about to shut the patio door when you swore you heard a voice.

You froze, but briefly shrugged it off as being in your head. You looked outside, barely being able to see your garden, but knowing it was only your subconscious. You shut the door, turning to walk away until you heard it again.

I’d turn that light on if I were you.

It gets rather dark out here.

You sighed. Even when George wasn’t around, you felt like he was right beside you. You weren’t sure if you wanted to laugh or cry, so you released a noise that sounded like a mixture of both as you flicked the porch light on, not paying it another thought as you headed to the kitchen to prepare dinner.

Monday morning. You dreaded it more this week for some unknown yet obviously known reason. The past few weeks, you would just think about your weekend with George to get you through the boring parts of the day. But since this weekend did not pan out like you thought it would, there wasn’t much to occupy your mind. That was the hard part about all this. George didn’t have a typical nine-to-five. He would have gardening sessions scattered throughout his day. Sometimes he would be booked solid, and other days would be quick appointments for treatments, leaving more time for his personal schedule. Even if you wanted to meet up with him during the week, your strict schedule prevented you from having any time with him. Maybe something could’ve been worked out eventually, but the current state of your brain would not settle for that. You wanted him and you wanted him now.

When you got home that night, the feeling had not left. It was more manageable while you were away, but you felt like you were coming home to a house that was once full of life, only to no longer harbor that same feeling. You had never realized how much life George brought to your daily routine even when you didn’t live together. For a moment, you wondered why this was affecting you so much. Perhaps you were overreacting. You would see George again. It would just be longer than usual until you did. You released a heavy sigh, a sliver of hope that you could push this feeling out of your mind, for at least a little while, had begun to show itself.

Until night fell. You glanced at the back door.

The porch light.

That fucking porch light.

The entire time you lived here, you barely even acknowledged its existence. But ever since George made you aware of it, you think of it every night. Subconsciously, you thought maybe if you were consistent in putting it on every night, he would come back. He would find his way to you, sensing your desire to see him, and you would never be apart again. Never be alone again.

You turned it on again, simultaneously hopeful in your delusional scenario and growing impatient at how long your heart wanted to keep up the act.

The next morning, going by the door to shut the light felt like a walk of shame. What were you waiting for? George had his own schedule. His own life. He would see you when he could. You couldn’t help but start thinking if George was missing you as much as you were feeling every day was so bleak without him.

But yet, that night, you turned the porch light on again. Feeling an overwhelming, compelling urge to stay, you opened the back door, stepping out onto the patio. You stared up at the light, admiring the wonderful golden hue of the small bulb inside its painted glass shade. The shade was brushed in bright yellow, matching the bulb and some other accents of the house’s exterior decor. It seemed so much more prominent at night. It was the only thing visible from far away. A sign of life in the home. You smiled at the thought. You would’ve probably never got around to use it if it wasn’t for George. He truly did bring new life into your home.

Thanks to the light, you could see the first few rows of flowers in your garden surrounding the large tree in the center of the yard. This was your gradient row, as you loved to refer to it as. The row where George had taken many creative liberties, creating a smooth-flowing spectrum of colors around the tree like a color wheel. The warm tones faced the house, showing you your lovely spread of roses, tiger lilies, and marigolds.

The marigolds reminded you of the light. Bright, yellow, and outstanding. It was also one of the only few flowers in your garden that George had not given you petals from. You turned back to the light. You decided it could be your marigold petal. At least for now.

You didn’t stay long. You quickly returned inside, shuffling briskly back down the hall, trying to make it to the bathroom before the tears dripped off your face and down onto the floor.

The following morning, as your fingers brushed against the switch to turn off the light, you let out a loud sob. It had rained in the middle of the night, and the sight outside the back door, one of gray overcast and a messy, muddy garden, made it all feel much too real. You couldn’t hide it anymore. You missed George. Oh, how you missed him. One day a week wasn’t enough anymore. You needed more of him. So much more. More than your own mind, body, and soul would ever know.

You considered taking off work today, as your mangled emotions were surely draining your energy. But realizing that staying home would only twist the knife further, you conceded. It was almost as if any choice that life could make would've been wrong in your eyes. Whether you went to work or stayed home, you felt uncomfortable. If the work day went quickly, you were dreading coming home to face your feelings again. Yet, if the day dragged on, you groaned at the thought of having to endure more time until your fateful reunion with George. You were incessantly unsatisfied. Insatiable, even. The only correct answer was George. You needed him to give you what he had promised you, whether he was waiting for you to admit it or not. At this point, you wouldn't have even cared if you sounded desperate. You were desperate. You didn't care if you had to call him right now and divulge everything you felt. How badly you wanted and needed him. Your brain was chasing a fierce addiction, and George was your dealer.

That night had been the hardest so far. You couldn't even bring yourself to walk down that hall. The light wasn't going to be some magical beacon to signal George. You felt like you were holding onto nothing. You didn't care if the light wasn't on tonight. It made no difference anymore.

You went to sleep early that night. Your main thought process was to sleep as much as you could to make the days go by faster. You didn't even want to think about this Saturday. Your soul felt like it was grieving. But grieving what? George didn't break up with you. Technically, the two of you never even established any sort of declaration of a relationship anyway. But you felt like you belonged together. You were his and he was yours. As sweet as the thought was, you quickly shoved it away as you felt your eyes welling with tears.

You turned on your side to try and sleep when you heard a noise outside. It sounded like a low thud, but fairly close to your house. You shrugged it off at first, until you heard it again a few minutes later, sounding closer this time.

You sat up in bed, overtaken by fear. Living alone, you always worried about having to fight off intruders. Luckily, nothing had ever come of it. Until now.

Grabbing a broom from your hall closet to arm you, you headed into the living room. Your first instinct was to check out the front window, being too scared to open the door.

You peered through the curtains, seeing nothing to the left or right of the door, the street only illuminated by the porch lights of your surrounding neighbors. Of course the universe had to think of a way to remind you of what you were desperately trying to put out of your head.

You closed the curtains, ready to go back to bed when you heard what sounded like wet footsteps coming from your back door.

Oh fuck.

If this really was an intruder situation, you were anything but prepared. You glanced at the back door, hiding behind the hall corner. With your breath held and your muscles stiff as the wooden boards beneath your feet, you took slow steps down the hall. You lurched forward to quickly lock the door, which you normally did anyway but forgot that night as you never actually made it to the door without crying.

Knowing that the lock was safely in place brought you some time. Being closer to the door, you heard another sloshing sound, as well as some angry muttering. With your luck, the intruder slipped on the wet and muddy grass and was now disoriented, leaving you time to- well, do what, exactly?

You hadn't thought this far. Do you call the police? Make a loud noise in retaliation in hopes to scare them away? Armor yourself with throw pillows to burst through the door and use your broomstick to beat them senseless? Your mind was racing. The most reasonable thing to do in that moment, although it hurt quite a bit, would be the answer to whether this was really a life or death situation.

You turned on the porch light.

When the illuminating glow hit the grass below, you saw a person laying there, covered in mud, clearly not anticipating the new biome that had been created in your backyard. You screamed, causing the person to immediately look up at you. Upon making eye contact, you felt your heart spring up into your throat before free falling down to your stomach. You threw open the door, feeling like you were being fled with a million emotions at once, all conflicting each other. You stood there in shock, only being able to choke out one single word.

“...George?”

“I thought I told you to keep that bloody light on! I almost broke my neck out here!” George shouted, but couldn't keep a straight face long enough to be convincing, dissolving into a puddle of laughs back onto the ground. You felt your whole body fill with happiness. You dropped the broom, running out into the yard, slippers and all, squealing all the way before landing on top of him, trapping him in a tight hug.

You kissed him faster than your brain could process what you were doing. The familiar feeling of his soft skin, luscious hair and beard, and plush lips made your whole being swell with euphoria. Your golden yellow silk pajamas were now full of mud, but it didn't matter. George was back here with you. And you didn't need anything else.

“You’re getting all muddy, love.” George giggled, pushing damp strands of hair away from your face.

“I don't care!” You shouted while laughing, pressing loud, wet kisses across his face and neck. George wrapped his arms around you, resting his hands on your waist. You pulled away, staring into his eyes. It may have been late at night, but you felt wide awake as ever. Before you even opened your mouth to speak, you knew there were tears dripping down onto your cheeks. “I didn't think I'd see you again for a while.”

“I planned to stop by before I left, but I didn't have much time during the day.” George confessed. “I wanted to surprise you, but I'm realizing it might have been a better idea in my head.” He looked around the yard, then at his muddy clothes, eliciting a light chuckle. “Thinking about it now, I probably should've called first.”

“I'm just so happy to see you.” You replied, not even hearing half of what he said. You heard he planned to come back for you, and that was all you needed to know. “But I'm guessing your plan involved you being able to see once you got back here. Hence the, you know, porch light.” You averted your gaze, adding a nervous laugh.

“First I tried hopping over the fence, and tripped over that.” George explained, staring back at the gate. “Then I tried to walk quietly, and slipped in that big puddle over there. Not to mention I tripped over the center gradient, so I apologize for that. I'll be sure to fix it the next time I'm around.” He added with a swift cup of your chin and a kiss to your lips. You looked at the tree, seeing the warm toned flowers slightly uprooted, tiny specks of dirt adorning their golden petals. Honestly, that didn't even matter to you. The image of George trying to sneak into your backyard and failing miserably made you erupt into laughter again.

“I suggest you have to get cleaned up now, don't you?” You asked, running a finger through the thick layer of mud adorning his jeans.

“Well, yeah, but I refuse to get your floors all dirty.” George declared. You helped him up off the ground, trying your best to smudge the dirt out of his hair, as well as your own.

“You can leave the clothes in the laundry room. I'll deal with them tomorrow.” You replied. George shot you a look, helping you brush some of the grass off your pajamas.

“So it's already been decided that I'm spending the night, then?” You smirked, not saying anything back. George smiled, sneakily pinching the skin on your waist. You squealed, playfully batting his hand away. You turned to walk back to the patio when he spoke again.

“Even after we get out of these filthy clothes, we still have to get ourselves clean, you know.”

You froze, a chill running through your spine, excitement filling your body. You whipped your head around, grabbing George’s hand and leading him to the stairs. You were about to open the door when he put his arm out to stop you.

“I know you're excited, love, but I still don’t want to bring all this mud into your clean house.” He seemed genuinely concerned by this issue, but at this point, nothing was going to stop you.

“Okay, fine. Easy fix.” You stated, slipping the straps of your pajamas off your shoulders, followed by your underwear. George’s eyes widened as he watched the silken fabric pool around your ankles, leaving you completely nude standing on the patio. The cool air of this particular spring night began to wash over your body, and you shivered slightly. You weren't sure if it was from the sudden breeze, or the tantalizing feeling of this whole situation, but either way, your nipples were completely hard.

Seconds later, George followed suit, removing his muddy shoes, followed by his equally sodden shirt and pants. He stopped at his underwear, feeling a flash of uncertainty. He was no stranger to being nude, but being nude while standing on the back porch of his lover’s house in the middle of their classy suburban neighborhood? That was a new one.

He turned back to you, taking in the sight before him. Seeing your fully bare form, taking one slow drag of his eyes over your lower half, he quickly shuffled off the remaining piece of clothing and tossed it on the floor with the rest. You opened the door, scooping your clothes up in one swift motion, walking a mere few feet and tossing them in the laundry room to be dealt with eventually. You couldn’t be bothered right now. George did the same, keeping his clothes in a neat pile right beside yours, placing his boots by the door. He stood there for a few seconds, gauging your readiness to proceed. With a smirk on your face, you grabbed his hand, leading him into the bathroom.

You opened the shower curtain and turned the water on, feeling the warm steam slowly fill the room. You adjusted the water to a comfortably neutral temperature before climbing inside, leaving space for George to join you. You stayed under the stream of water, allowing it to take its time to rinse all the mud off your arms and legs, and most of it out of your hair, leaving you with a fresher start before moving on to shampoo and soap. You looked over your shoulder at George, who now seemed rather chilly, so you switched places, allowing him to rinse off as well. He had been wearing more covering clothes than you, so there wasn’t much dirt he needed to get off his body, but his hair was a different story. He spent extra time using his fingers to comb through his beard, which seemed to be a prime target for all that grass and soil.

Getting started on washing your body, you had briefly turned away from George to grab your soap. Before you could open the container, you heard a low shudder coming from behind you. You looked at George, who was now staring at you, while sporting quite the erection. You giggled, lightly poking his stomach. “Am I taking too long for you?”

“You know, for someone who wanted me so badly outside, and is now teasing me about having to wait, you’re quite mad, aren’t you?” He stated, glancing down at himself while continuing to rinse his hair. You laughed louder this time.

“I figured we would clean up first.” You said innocently. He chuckled.

“Why do that when we’re just gonna get dirty again, love?”

You bit your lip, holding back a whimper, but the way your legs involuntarily began to clench shut gave it away immediately.

You nodded. “I see. Well let’s get it on then.”

The second you finished your statement, George wasted no time grabbing your waist and pressing his lips against yours. It was a hungry kiss. Passionate. Longing. It had confirmed he missed you just as much as you missed him. You put your hands in his hair, which was now much softer under the water. You were the one to take that passion further, feeling his lips part and allowing your tongue to enter his mouth. He seemed to thoroughly enjoy this, moving his hands from your waist down to your ass, kneading it softly yet with an impatient edge to it. You were tempted to hook one leg over his waist, but the slippery floor beneath you made you fearful of losing your balance, so you refrained. But you wouldn't have even had time to take action, as George quickly pulled away, spinning you around and pushing you up against the shower wall. You put your hands out, both of them splayed out on either side of your head as your cheek made contact with the cold tile. George grabbed your waist again, slowly grinding against you, slightly pressing you between the wall and himself. The contrast in temperature between the cool, flat surface and the steamy air made your head spin before he even did anything else. He leaned in closer, pressing a kiss to your earlobe.

“I think you've waited long enough, my beautiful flower.” You moaned softly at his statement as you felt him enter you. Slowly, savoring it just as much as you. It was a bit of a stretch, but you never found it painful. The combination of the warm water and your mutual arousal provided a decent amount of lubrication.

George continued to leave kisses around the shell of your ear and down to your neck, resting his chin on your shoulder. Once he was all the way in, he steadied himself before going any further. “You doing okay, love?” He cooed, patiently waiting for your response.

You sighed blissfully, softly nodding your head and letting out a low “mhm” while taking in all the sensations around you. The mix of everything made you whine in pure ecstasy, feeling so full in the best way possible, not wanting to say or move much in fear of losing your grip on it. You felt like you were in a different world, where it was only you and George, and nothing else mattered. However, you were not in the mood to be kept waiting either, feeling like you were holding your breath a bit, waiting for his next move. You took another deep inhale and exhale, releasing another moan in the interim. “It's okay,” you mumbled, “you can keep going.”

George nodded, starting with a soft, slow pace. Even with shallow thrusts, you were already in heaven. You quickly got lost in the rhythm, hearing his occasional breathy sighs directly into your ear. Hearing him enjoy it just as much as you were only turned you on more. And the more George fell into a rhythm as well, the faster he went. His thrusts became quicker and harder, pushing you up against the wall with each motion. Your moans had just become one long groan of pleasure, the way your nipples dragged across the cold wall with each thrust stringing you along even further.

When you felt that pressure start to build, you couldn't even form a coherent sentence to signal anything, the only word falling from your lips a meek “George...” before a high-pitched whining overtook you again. George shushed you softly, rubbing his thumbs along your waist as he brought you closer to the edge.

“I know, flower. I know.”

What felt like seconds later, you felt your orgasm crash over you, a noise that sounded like a mix between a moan and a scream flying from your mouth, proclaiming your everlasting love and worship of the man behind you, feeling yourself begin to slump against the wall, trying to catch your breath. George finished shortly afterwards, his grip on your hips tightening as he came inside you. He tilted his head back, a low, steady groan signaling his release. He had no choice but to use the wall for support as well, nearly falling on top of you after he slowly slid out. It was times like these you considered turning off the shower head and just filling up the bath instead, as your legs felt like jelly by this point, leaving you with minimal energy to hold yourself up.

Before you could say anything else, you felt George’s hands on you again, running his fingers through your hair. You smelled the familiar scent of your shampoo, feeling it glide through your hair as you closed your eyes again. He held you tenderly, guiding your head to the water, gently tilting it back to rinse the suds from your hair.

Once finished, he started on your body, massaging the soap all over your back, making sure to be careful around any areas that were currently more sensitive than usual. You sighed happily, feeling pampered like royalty, so grateful to have him here with you.

After a few minutes, your legs didn't feel like that of a newborn giraffe anymore, so you turned around to face George, pressing a soft kiss to his lips before taking the bar of soap. “I got it from here.” You giggled, finishing yourself off before starting to help him out as he eyed your shampoo. It wasn't what he used, but it smelled nice, and there wasn’t much of a choice in this situation. He chuckled before squeezing a small amount onto his palm, looking down as you lathered up his chest and stomach.

Once you both had thoroughly cleaned up, you turned off the water and stepped out, fetching some large fluffy towels and equally soft robes to only increase your level of comfort. By now, both of you were free of mud, partially dry, and ever so tired. Wasting no time to climb into bed, you snuggled up against George, resting your head on his chest.

“I'm so happy you came back.” You whispered, placing a kiss right over where his heart is. George giggled, caressing your arm.

“I would've always come back, flower.” He paused with a pensive sigh. “I enjoy every second I spend with you. You give me new life. A new purpose to an already wonderful experience.” You stared up at him, eyes wide in awe. It was the first time he had openly expressed his feelings to you without hiding them behind his usual cheeky humor. It was the most beautiful thing you had ever heard.

“You have no idea how special you are to me.” You beamed, craning your neck up to kiss his jawline, surprised when he turned his face and you landed on his lips instead.

“And you to me.” He replied. You enjoyed the streak of added sappy statements from George, but you knew it was a big step for him, judging by the deep breath he took afterwards, followed by a swift “Let's get some sleep, love.”

“Okay,” you agreed, “but let me just make sure I locked the back door first.” George nodded, getting comfortable on his side of your bed as you hopped out from under the covers, shivering again as the cool night air came back with a vengeance on your naked body. You quickly put your robe on and shuffled down the hall. You clicked the lock shut and went to go back to your room when you noticed something out of the corner of your eye. Something yellow.

You looked around until you spotted it again, sticking out of the side of George’s boot. Bending down to get a closer look, you moved the muddy laces and pulled it out. A tear almost fell down your cheek and you held it between your fingers. A petal from one of your precious marigolds, presumably stuck there when George tripped over them on the way in. You smiled warmly, feeling your heart soar at the idea that George can give you a petal every visit, even if he didn't realize it. Without saying anything, you put the petal in the pocket of your robe and made your way down the hall, trying not to disturb George as you quietly slipped back into bed.

==============================

IT'S FINALLY HERE Y'ALL 😄 I'm so happy I can share it and it was definitely a fun plot to continue!

Taglist: @peaceloveandstarrs @queen-of-stars @nosegoes @cocteautwiny @thatgoesinthere-misshapes

(If you want to be added to my taglist, feel free to send an ask and let me know! 🥰)

[therealslimshakespeare]

Dear John || Pt.1

Masters of the Air Fanfiction

Requested: ☑️ My sweet Bri begged for a love-letter-centric Egan fic and with her wonderfully infectious ideas this was produced, the first part of many.

Summary: Major John Egan wasn’t the pen-pal sort but a couple of hours into a dark night full of writing condolence letters, he finds himself wondering why he never tried his hand at the nicer forms of correspondence. Who better to reanimate his numb inspiration than the glamorous Miss Lana Tierney? -the army’s girl next door, the pinup so prolific she was practically a wall paper print and Bucky’s long-standing cinematic crush. It’s not like she’ll read it anyways, tucked up in luxury in Beverly Hills with carts of tedious fanmail burned in her back yard each day, his letter will get lost in the mix. It’s harmless. That thought -and the booze- may loosen his pen a little too much but it’s alright, it’s not like she’ll read it. Right? Right.

It was specified in the request to use or create some of those old WWII dirty acronyms, so in here you have Bucky making up his own for his starlet crush (acorn). I’m ripping off a few ladies here, Lana Turner, Betty Grable, Hedy Lamarr to name a few -the moodbaord is for general aesthetics, I try to keep my fem!readers and oc’s as ambiguous physically as possible. (Besides the fact Johnny Egan finds you mouthwatering, which -be honest with yourself here sweet thing!!- he would.

Rating: 18+ this is the letter writing, vintage form of sexting. i kid you not, this man swings wildly from sweet as pie to downright filthy and vintage slang for anatomical parts is used freely. This would make a better shameful diary entry than a letter but he’s a rogue and he’s in a war, cut him some slack.

Fun game: how many times can Major Egan manage to mention Buck in a horny fan letter to his crush?

Dear A.C.O.R.N.

It is highly unlikely that you remember me, but, all the same, we have met. Now, hear me out, I’m sure fellas say that to you all the time but my point still stands and to match them I’ll do you one better, seeing as how I am not buttering you up for something in return -I have met you, yes, but I have also sung to you.

There. Said it.

Not that you’d recall that either, but then again maybe you would, but either way it doesn’t matter as the entire reason I am writing to you is because it is entirely unlikely you will ever open this god-awful endeavor made of pen and ink.

I am quite drunk, you see.

A necessary medicine. And they do make good whiskey here, one of the few joys they haven’t rationed yet. It’s got me wondering what’s your poison of choice. Something fruity? Or are you an olive sucker? Like that salt on the rim? Or maybe you go for somethin’ silky and warm goin’ down your throat? Which-ever it is, I bet you’d be a surprise, sweet ACORN, I just know it. You were a surprise at the canteen. Back in Jersey? Before shipping out? I know you were on a whole tour and kisses were goin’ for dollars but still, you were a surprise.

A lovely one, really. And that’s the point of this letter. To tell you that you're lovely and while I’m not the pen-pal sort, I’ve written home 80 letters tonight to families whose boys I was supposed to bring home. It got me thinking: Bucky, why the hell don’t you write nice letters? Whyd you only write ‘em now that you gotta? And it occurred to me then that the one silver lining in this whole Air Exec job is the desk, the lamp and the office.

I could write anybody from here. I could write you.

And you wouldn't read it so I could write anything. And it could be a nice letter. ‘Cause I don’t know anybody of yours to tell you anythin’ sad about them and you don’t know me except that I’m alive and drunk. Which is better than those poor eighty two bastards. Which reminds me, I’ve still got two more but maybe Buck will take those, he took seventeen off to his bunk to write from there. Buck doesn't have a desk because he’s not as important as me and he has all the luck.

You’ve met Buck, too, Acorn. He was the appalled pretty one with the straw colored hair pulling me off you after we had our duet. He objects to your nickname, see, even though you didn’t seem to mind. You were lovely, A.C.O.R.N. And I’d not wanna ruin this letter by telling you what it means, not now that I’m actually writing to you and determined to be nice but Buck knows and while he agrees with me as much as any man in the nation that you’ve got the most robust rack on the silver screen -he has objections, you see. So it wasn’t the song or the canoodling he didn’t like, and I still say, he broke up a little love affair that night. Bastard. So I’m writing to you now because as the acronym suggests, I’ve got a goal in my mind in regards to you. I tell myself -Bucky, there’s reasons to make it back.

Reasons, Bucky, reasons. Like Acorn and her halo of gorgeous hair that smelled like coconuts and the way she thought my new lyrics were pretty clever. That’s what you said, acorn, you said they were pretty clever. Now I may have been a little drunk then, too, but I think you might’ve been tipsy, that coke smelled too strong to be straight. I still have the straw you gave me, it’s bent to hell but I’ve taken it up each mission. I’m not counting on it for luck so much as a reminder of the aforementioned reasons. To come back. Your lipstick has mostly worn off but I figure it’s still the same.

You had your precious lips around it. That’s what matters.

And that’s the sorta sentence that makes Buck think I shouldn’t write letters.

But what he can’t accuse me of is being dishonest or vague. I’m being straight with you. You deserve that much, you were lovely and very straight shootin’ yourself, dear little girl. I could pinch your cheeks right now, you’re so sweet. And don’t think me a coward for sayin’ all this under assumption that you won’t read it. I hope you don’t since it’s not worth your time and if you do I wish I’d written less about me and more about you but I need you to know if we were face to face I’d say the same:

You were lovely, you ARE lovely!!!! and I think all your work for us boys is swell and you’ve got the bestest set of knockers any of us have ever seen and I’m stayin’ alive in hopes to see ‘em again some day and while the girls here are swell and sweet they aren’t zippy like you. At least not the ones who’ve put out so far. And if I had you face to face, I’d find a way to make you laugh again and I’d tell you to your face you’re lovely and if I’d been David Nivin in Love Trap with you, I’d have stayed in that little kitchen with you and ate all your burnt flapjacks and watched you in your apron and made babies with you till we were old.

Anyway. It needed saying. And maybe I’ll say it to your face given the chance again. I was working my way up to a proposition for burgers and milkshakes when Buck ruined it. But maybe you’ll tour? Here!! Over here. In England or maybe in Europe once we kick the Nazis bastards out.

Now that’s motivation. That’s a reason! -clear out a nice little swath of land through fortress europe so Miss Lana Tierney can sing in the city of lights surrounded by nothin’ but wine and good food and a buncha boys who love and appreciate her.

Because we do, ma’am. We do.

And make no mistake, I do this to keep the country safe and try to bring as many boys home as I can but every second I also think - it’s where you are too, and so I must continue keeping it safe.

If you, by some godawful chance, do read this letter, please don’t feel pressed to respond or pull out a restraining order. Think of it this way, it’d just be one more “Dear John” letter and the system is clogged as it is. You just deserve a nice letter and my wrist is past sore, one more doesn't matter. And being unable to deliver nice, I’ve written this.

~ I am ever your respectful (and hammered) admirer, Maj. John Egan

P.S. if you do happen to read this I’m sorry. Buck told me not to do this but I just had to Acorn. You’re just too swell and I really have got to get myself to a theater before long, I miss your Angel face.

Masterlist

Thank you for reading! This was entirely out of my usual comfort zone but I’ve had fun writing it and I’m trying to tune my ear to pick up his voice, that’s been stretching. This series will have many letters in it but there will also be fic, so fear not. I’ve got some plans already figured out for this series but I do love a suggestion or ten so have at the inbox with what you’d like to see play out.

Hope you enjoyed, if you’d like to be tagged in future MOTA fics, drop a note below.