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batfambrainrotbeloved · 3 days

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How to Writing multiple characters in a scene!!

Writing tips w/ Sunny (part 1, because I ramble and im positive ill end up doing this again if people want or for my own satisfaction)

This is just my methodology put in a way I think makes sense, if this doesnt apply to you thats okay everyone has different stradegies that work for them <33

SO lets begin.

"Rules" of writing multi character scenes + arcs, (First half is how to add them into a scene, second half is maintaining and not letting them vanish)

AHEM- Well there are four ways to place a character in a scene

Narration POV Aka the protagonist, this is the perspective ever present unless you CLARIFY the story is now through the lens of another character (Take for example my fic, while I play with multiple perspectives- a bulk is from Tims POV)

Secondary POV This is the character that DIRECTLY interacts with the narrator aka their "first point of contact" so to speak, they ground the narrator in the scene as not alone and is actually interacting with other people. (This DOES NOT have to be a speaking role, it can be purely observational if need be- but its the character that gets the most attention via the narrators perspective SIDE NOTE- THIS CAN SWITCH AS WELL)

Interactive POV Now we get to the "filling"- since Secondary doesn't need a direct tie to the narrator, you can have another character interact with the secondary character. But since they are not the focus of the scene its good to have a REASON they "Enter" or else if you spend so long giving the narrators perspective on #2 then you risk having someone "Materialize" in thin air. (This isnt really a concern unless you wait too long into the scene to go "Oh this guy exists-" you have time as you paint the reader a picture of the new enviornment/scene)

Enviorment POV Last but most certainly not least (and the one i've seen people struggle with the most) is the character that is PRESENT A N D NAMED- But serves no plot importance/relevance (to the narrator) during the opening part of the scene.

To put in better perspective- think of being in a room, The Narrator is you observing your surroundings (depending on POV style how "into the mind" of the narrator we go)

Secondary is the person you focus on, you hear their conversation, see their body language, expression, clothing, etc. They are the personal "focus" (there can be multiple as well)

Interactive is people SURROUNDING the focus, those who still play a semi active and visible role. They can either be within your line of sight interacting with the enviorment or speaking to a secondary/narrator character.

Enviorment is the person in the back of class that you know, but don't really register unless they do/say something- but you are still AWARE of their presence. CAREFUL NOT TO INTRODUCE THEM TOO LATE, OR ELSE YOU HAVE THE "MATERIALIZE" PROBLEM AGAIN

Now into a scene(aka recycling an old one)

Tim starred ahead silently from his side of the couch, watching Jason fidget with the soda tab on his shitty off brand Doctor Pepper he always insisted on getting. Around and around over and over, it was giving him second hand anxiety.

Thankfully they weren't forced to stay in the moment as Dick leaned over and pressed his shoulder into Jasons with a beaming smile "Oh come on it'll be fun"!

"Says you golden boy" Steph teased, half hanging off her chair and a foot almost knocking over Cass chip bag, only stopped by the fact Duke snatched it and moved it further along the table.

Well at least Damian seemed to be reacting rationally, seeming intent on slouching in on himself the more Dick tried to pull him and Jason together into a "group hug". It was a wonder his arms could even reach that far- even more so that they were still intact.

But Jason, like the rest of them, was weak to Dicks puppy dog eyes. Tim saw the moment he gave up a losing battle and his shoulders slumped in defeat, though his scowl ever present. "If I say yes will you fuck off"

"Ah ah language, we have children here"! Dick gasped, placing his ears on Damians ears which only earned him a snarl in return.

"I don't think Damian counts as a kid- and I just turned 16 which is basically an adult" Duke tried to defend, but his 'fierce glare' had less effect with his hand stuck in a bag of gummy worms.

Tim huffed- if Dick kept it up, they would end up with "family night", and he doubted all of them would come back alive.

(END SCENE)

Now to break down- Tim was of course the "Narrator" perspective that was viewing the scene, we get his insight even while not directly interacting with the characters just by his description tone.

Jason was of course the main "Secondary"character (though Dick was a mix as well) where the scene introduced by Tims perpective and tone by someone else in the enviornment.

Then you have Dick who is a perfect mix of Interactive character (how he entered the scene via movement, placing himself in perspective to the established other two) while shifting to have the most "scene impact" whilst still not being Tims focus.

Finally you have everyone else serving as Enviornment characters, with either a simple Line-action (ex-Steph) or a name drop in general placement (Cass) or establishment through movement, and only relevent later in the scene (Duke).

Damian kind of floats between, he is introduced via a reaction + Narrator observation, but then is mostly just an eviornment character. He is THERE but not really awknowleged beyond that.

NEXT- If that doesn't help much you can rely on "Environment rule"

Aka everyone is always doing something in any space they occupy- apply that to your characters. It can be as simple as when you have one character speak loudly to the narrating POV, another character shifts away or laughs.

They didn't need to speak nor did you need to detract from the tension/pacing of a scene by describing in detail their expression, positon, etc.

BUT in that moment your reader just clues in to "Oh okay x is here-" that is established, and whether or not x plays a role in a future scene within that enviornment doesnt matter much.

This is also the PERFECT oppertunity to give characterization. If a tense moment is going on you can have the narrator notice another character stiffen/flinch (aka affected by the conflict, even if not an active participant)

FINAL PART- MAINTAINING

This is where shit can hit the fan f a s t- getting a bunch of characters in a scene is one thing but keeping them there?? Hell at times.

But once again this all relies on "Narrator perspective" and unless you are switching narrators, you need a "cone of vision" to determine what is or isn't important unless you might break the tension of a scene.

Methods include-

Reactions

Two+ background characters interact (verbal or not)

Interact with enviornment

Enter/Leave a space (of note)

A sound registered but not explored (a chair creaking back, a glass dropping, snack bag rustling, or even my favorite which is the sudden absense of sound implying an audience)

"Incidents" (Someone drops something, attention goes to them for a sec- apology/oneliners, then switch back)

Check ins from NON NARRATOR, (or narrator, but usually works better to keep track of who is focused on who)

Characters don't need to be "ever present" just remind your reader they exist somewhere generally in the scene (and keep them in your back pocket)

But The best possible tool at your disposal?? BANTER.

Let characters interact, feel out their dyanmics- If you dont know how they interact in non tense situations, how does that change when tension amps up. Have a background character throw in a one liner- or the narrator observe a conversation they aren't a part of.

LET PEOPLE BE PEOPLE- And they basically write themselves

Last but not least- if you feel stuck or lost?? Treat EVERYONE like a narrator.

Who are they paying attention to? What are they seeing? How do they REACT to that? Do they speak up, do they tense, do they try and slip away or stay strong?

You don't need to know this for EVERY scene- but sometimes it helps out of a rut moment

ANYWAYYSS- This is my rant and personal methodology of how I place/maintain multiple characters. I hope this helps for anyone interested, if not find what works for you!!

My Asks are open if anyone wants me to give any other advice, tips, or just general ramblings about writing.

Otherwise,

Happy writing!!

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comicarc · 2 days

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𝐌𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬

Just a walk down memory lane. I just haven’t found many fics about Jason before he was killed, so I thought I’d write one.

wc: 1182

My first memory of Jason was when I first met him in the alley. I was strolling down the streets at night naive and oblivious to the dangers surrounding me. It was one of the few times I was carefree and ignorant of consequences. I felt so happy walking down a puddle-filled sidewalk. Homeless people left and right, the road lined with potholes and men running around mugging people. In this part of Gotham, this would be the best it gets.

It was drizzling and I was only wearing a t-shirt and shorts. It’s almost never sunny in Gotham, but I was determined that today would be different. To my surprise, the day had been cloudless, but as evening approached the clouds began rolling in. Little me, holding on to the little hope I conjured, decided not to change or even grab a jacket before heading for my stroll.

By now I had managed to walk over five blocks to an alley. I heard laughter down the way and was curious enough, against my better judgment, to follow the voice. Nearing the origin of the voice I saw a boy about my age. He looked tired and beaten up, but his voice was full of pure joy. He wore a bright red, worn out hooded jacket. His jeans were tattered and his shoes had enormous holes in them. There was a small corner next to him with stacks of blankets and used pillows. Did he live here?

I walked up to him and asked, “What’s a boy like you doing out here laughing?”

“Can’t I laugh if I want to?” He retorted as he swung his body to face me. A knife pressed against my throat.

“I guess you can.” I gulped. I was not prepared for this to happen.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you. Just out of habit.”

“I guess it must be a daily occurrence if you’re used to doing this by now.”

“You wouldn’t believe how many psychos run around trying to rob a child.”

“I bet.”

“You shouldn’t be here. Not unless you want to meet people like me or want to get killed.”

“Maybe I like meeting people.”

He chuckles before nudging me to the opening of the alleyway. “Go home.”

He then proceeds to hand me his jacket seeing as I was shivering from the weather. I put it on after a few protests and he pulle the hood above my head. His touch felt rough but loving.

I was enchanted for a few minutes, staring deeply into his eyes until I replied, “Alright, but before I leave I want to know what to call my new friend.”

“Name’s Jason.”

“I’m y/n.” I said as I exited the alley and ran back home.

After that incident, I hung out with him in that alley all the time before he became Bruce Wayne’s ward. He became distant soon after he found a new family, but he still tried his best to wish me on my birthdays and congratulate me whenever I won or competed in competitions at Gotham High. I never realized it then, but his presence always lifted my spirits. Made me elated beyond comprehension. Without him, I don’t know what would have happened to me.

My favorite memory of him occurred as he attended a prestigious school around the time he was 18. We’d been distant lately, but I visited him every now and then. This night I decided I would go to his dorm and treat him to a night of relaxation. It was 9:00 pm, so he would most definitely have been awake, but when I arrived he didn’t open the door. After an hour or two of waiting, he finally greeted me and let me into his humble abode. Distraught by the reason why I had to wait so long, I questioned his whereabouts until he finally gave in.

“I was showering”

Completely flabbergasted I replied, “What the actual fuck Jason. Who takes showers for two hours?”

“Me.”

I laughed before taking the food I had brought out of the grocery bag and laying it out on his living room table. His body was definitely drenched, but not in water, rather sweat. I knew he was lying, but why? He was always sweet to me ever since we were kids. There was no reason for him to lie to me, he knows I would help through anything and accept all his endeavors happily.

Still, I wasn’t going to get mad over nothing, so as he proceeded to leave the room to bring blankets for us, I sat down and put on our favorite movie, My Bloody Valentine . When he comes back and sits on the couch I let him lie his head on my lap as we watch. The blankets cover Jason’s entire body and my legs, making the couch a makeshift bed and my lap a pillow. Unconsciously I begin stroking his head, and only realize it by the end of the movie. By then Jason had also fallen asleep.

It was one of the few nights he seemed at peace. We were so close, and I gained that he truly felt the world of me by trusting me. More than anything it was the night I realized that I loved Jason.

My most recent memory of him was the day he died. I was mad. No, I was absolutley furious. He never told me he was Robin. Did he not trust me? No, maybe he did it to protect me. Still, knowing would’ve been better than nothing. I had the right to know, not interfere but to at least know. Our relationship was longer than anyone else’s, and yet, he never trusted me enough to tell me something so important. Now he’s gone forever. I’ll never be able to hear his sweet words, bathe in his warmth, or even tell him that I love him. I will never have that opportunity again, all because of his damned crime fighting persona.

Today, on his birthday, I sit on the couch, playing My Bloody Valentine , with a cake set in front of me. It reads, “Happy Birthday Jason!” with one lit candle in the dead center. I looked at the clock with puffed eyes. I had been crying the whole night, reminiscing on past memories of Jason.

Right when the clock struck twelve I heard a thud come from the balcony of my apartment. Since I was alone, I prepped myself to confront the intruder. Taking the closest weapon I could find, I begin heading to my balcony. Outside, the light breeze makes me shiver. Holding the weapon with two hands I slowly approach the shadowy figure at the corner of my balcony. As I near, I see him wearing cargo pants and a leather jacket. The figure begins walking towards me. At this point I’m scared out of my wits as he comes close.

He pulls me into a hug before saying, “I’m sorry y/n. For everything.”

Confused and comforted at the same time, I question, “Jason?”

#jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x you #red hood x reader #red hood #dc robin #gotham #angst #cliffhanger #some fluff

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ilygetou · 8 months

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zoro with a huge cock he doesn't know what to do with it

i shall elaborate. ૮˃̵֊ ˂̵ ა

cw. fem! reader, breeding kink if u squint, inexperienced!virgin! zoro (but it’s not mentioned), zoro lowkey acts like a pervert, solo male masturbation, hand/blowjob, cowgirl position, lots of cum, awkward boners, boob job, facials, creampie and/or breeding, damn this shit kinda long :/

note. this was supposed to be a 500 word thirst but i ended up writing this 2.3k monstrosity. so enjoy!

zoro who’s dick is so big & thick he doesn’t know what to do–every time he’d get a hard-on it’d always end up being awkward cause’ anyone who’d be there present with him would be able to notice it. The baggy clothes he’d be wearing would sometimes help him cover up his ridiculously huge erection but zoro still thinks it wasn’t enough coverage.

And when zoro thought it coudn’t get any worse, you suddenly came in the picture. Making the poor man suffer from even more awkward boners.

When he would be hanging around the crew but suddenly he’d get a sudden flash of your face & then he’d be put into this awkward situation. Having to rush to the nearest bathroom in the sunny to take care of his hardening cock.

The whole time zoro was in the bathroom, he would be letting out frustrated groans, he was stroking his cock in an aggressive manner–throwing his head back in frustration and groaning cause’ he was nowhere near his release. And he wishes you were there with him. Because, come on, you were the reason for all this to being with.

Despite zoro’s huge dick, he had heavy breeder balls that’re filled with his hot sperm <3 And zoro sometimes wishes you were with him right now, so he could empty his balls deep insides your cunt. It’s a real shame you aren’t a member of the straw hats, otherwise, zoro would have you stuffed with his massive cock all the time.

Everytime zoro goes off to jerk off, it’d always end up with him edging himself. He thinks he’s doing something wrong at this point–no matter how fast and rough he would be stroking his shaft, it was nowhere near enough and he would never be able to orgasm. Zoro started thinking that the reasoning for this is his ridiculously huge cock. That has to be the reason.

Every time zoro would finally be close to having sex, the person he’s about to fuck always ends up running away as soon and they see his sheer size. So he has been always insecure about his dick size, he’s supposed to be the greatest swordsman for fucks sake. And here he is worrying about the size of his dick.

Maybe if he had a medium sized dick–he would be able to cum as many times as he wants. But with this big one? Yeah, zoro doesn’t think he’ll be able to know what an orgasm feels like any time soon.

That was until zoro bumped into you coincidentally, you greeted him with a sheepish smile and pulled him into an unexpected hug, the poor man felt his face grow hot,, and suddenly his cock was slowly hardening. Zoro curses under his breath, scolding himself mentally, this was not the right time for this.

You were babbling about things you saw on your journey, all while using hand gestures to explain things, you had a small spark in your eyes and zoro could almost feel bad for ignoring whatever you were saying and instead focusing on the way your tits bounced with every move you made, and his eyes travelled downwards to where your crotch was. Your pussy was covered from the layers of clothes you were wearing.

Zoro couldn’t hide it anymore, his erection was poking his clothes and zoro’s face immediately went pale once he saw you take a glimpse of his hard-on. “Zoro we can continue talking in the sunny if that’s alright with you? ’M just tired of standing” and zoro immediately agreed, thinking you actually just wanted to talk–cause what else would you do? A sweet innocent, angel like you wouldn’t pull anything inappropriate.

Zoro had a confused expression when he saw you enter his room instead of just going to sit in the main area, he had an even more confused expression when he saw you lock the door–leaving you two trapped in his room. And when you made zoro sit on the edge of his bed as you went down on your knees, that’s when zoro completely lost it, finally understanding your true intentions.

His lips curved into a smirk once you started tugging on his baggy pants, “oh?” he chuckles, zoro really wasn’t sure about this. He was worried that you might get scared and leave if you saw his ridiculously large cock. “you sure ya’ wanna do this?” and you looked up at him with pleading doe-eyes, you pulled down your shirt, your tits bouncing from the impact; “mhm, wanna have you cum on my face n’ tits, please?”

Zoro’s breath hitched, completely mesmerized from the view in front of him. You finally tugged down his pants, his cock slapping you in the face–zoro immediately muttered a ‘sorry’ his face already turning red. But you honestly didn’t mind, what shocked you more was how big zoro was, you knew he was going to be big by the way his erection was poking his pants but not this big.

His tip itself was huge, it was mushroom shaped and had a pinkish color to it, his shaft was a very light shade of almond, pre-cum dripping down his base and you couldn’t help but worry if it’ll be able to fit inside your mouth or if it’d be able to go between your tits. While you took your time eyeing it, zoro immediately grew worried & insecure–is it too big? did you not like it? And then zoro thought that what if you won’t be able to make him cum as well? He had so many futile jerking off sessions he doesn’t know if he’ll be able to cum anymore.

Zoro was snapped out of his thoughts when you wrapped your small hands around his dick, you had to use both hands to be able to fully satisfy zoro. You started with his tip, circling your thumb around the head until zoro started groaning from the feeling. Slowly moving down to the base and giving it small strokes using both hands, zoro gripped the sheets of his bed–it was completely different from what does.

Zoro would usually just go straight into it, moving his hands rough and fast to get himself to cum but it never worked. But now that you were the one doing it for him, it felt way better than when he does it alone. You were cradling his cock, kneading the tip gently, moving your hands very gently and slow. It was like you were teasing zoro the difference was that it felt so fucking amazing.

You withdrew your hands and zoro groaned in response, his face was flushed red as he took a quick glance at you, his eyes fluttered shut once he saw you positioning his dick between your breasts. He moaned at the soft feeling of your tits around his cock, swallowing his saliva when you took his tip in your mouth, sucking on the fat head of his cock sloppily.

“A-Ahh–shit–” he murmured, running his hands through his hair as he watched your tits swallow his entire length once you squeezed them together. The tip of his cock remained in your mouth, your tongue was wrapped around it–while you kept sucking on it messily. Drool kept dripping from the side of your chin and coating your tits, you looked up at zoro, his head was thrown back as he gripped the sheets beneath him.

When zoro decided to take a small glimpse of your state right now, he immediately regrets it. His huge tip was bulging in your mouth, a few tears covering your lashline, you were squishing your breasts together as you slightly bounced your body. And now, zoro was letting out low hisses, his thighs trembled, cock twitched, and now he was cumming all over your face and tits.

You looked up at zoro with a shocked expression and a cum covered face and zoro himself was shocked as well. He was trying to process this, is this how am orgasm feels like? ’cause fuck, he’s already addicted to the feeling of it.

You licked off the white stains from your face, you got up and pushed zoro back on his bed. “Can i ride you? Pretty please?” zoro’s eyes widened, face becoming even more flushed that even his ears turned red. “I-uh, Are you sure?” you nodded your head, you just had to prepare yourself before taking his stupidly big cock.

You grabbed zoro’s hands, pulling out his middle and index finger, you placed them above your panties, moving zoro’s hands–causing his fingers to rub your clothed cunt, zoro lets you do as you please, watching in amusement as you used him for your own pleasure. Once you took off your panties, you guided zoro’s fingers to your clit, making him rub it until you were moaning from the feeling.

“I think i g-got it, so let me do it” zoro offers and you immediately agreed, letting go of his hands as zoro’s fingers trailed to where your small hole was. This is where his cock was supposed to go? Holy shit. He pushes in his thick digits & your walls immediately clamped down on them, zoro starts with slow thrusts of his fingers–and you were already dripping on them.

With only a few more thrusts, you were already close, zoro’s fingers were already too thick and fulfilling–you can’t imagine how’d it feel to be fucked by his huge dick instead of his fingers. You grabbed zoro’s hands which startled him, “s-stop, wanna cum on your cock instead, please” zoro raised a brow but obeyed nonetheless, retracting his fingers from your drooling cunt.

You placed your hands on his abs for balance as you positioned yourself on top of zoro’s cock, slowly pushing down, your body quivered, breath caught short as the tip was slowly penetrating you and you could already feel the stretch from just the tip alone. And shortly, his whole length was inside you, you still couldn’t move–trying to adjust his ridiculous size.

And zoro couldn’t take it anymore, he wanted you to move, the warmth of your pussy and the way it was sucking him all the way in felt all too good but he can’t stop thinking about how great it’d feel if you’d just fucking move. He then took ahold of your wrists and thrusted his hips upwards, a scream left you, “w-wait zoro!” you weren’t expecting for zoro to be this inpatient.

He thrusted into you one more time, as tears started covering your lashline–he was stretching you so good right now, particularly splitting you open. “Feels so good, fuck” he sighs, feeling your walls clamp down on him, zoro’s eyes fluttered shut, gripping your waist with both hands as he bounced you up and down his cock.

Zoro traces the outline his cock is leaving on your stomach, was this him inside you? He threw his head back, feeling you clench down on him every time the tip hits your cervix. “You’re so good, so good f’me” he coos, and all you could do was nod in response. Tears streaming down your cheeks as you try and bounce on his cock but ending up as a whimpering mess, leaning on zoro for support.

His cock was deep inside you, a bulge visible on your tummy, his hips were pressed against your ass, and his hands were wrapped around your waist. God, You couldn’t ask for more than this, no, zoro couldn’t ask for more. He already came earlier and fuck, it felt so good.

Everytime zoro would thrust upwards, he would let out a hiss, droopy eye’s looking down at your messy face. “shit, you’re so tight” he’d groan, watching as your body trembles with every thrust, as obscene sounds slipped past your lips.

“z-zoro,” and zoro swears he could cum just by the sound of you calling out his name, “gnna’ cum, so close!” you threw your head back as you gripped zoro’s hair, your eyes rolled back as your whole body quivered— pornographic moans left you as you came all over zoro’s cock.

Zoro brought up a hand to your face, wiping the tears from your cheeks, removing a strand of hair and tugging it behind your ear—zoro then gave you a quick peck on the lips. His hands finding their way around your waist once again.

And it wasn’t long after zoro was also near his climax, zoro pressed a hand to his mouth to soak up the moans he’s struggling to hold in while his other hand still held your waist down. Zoro’s thighs trembled, bucking into you until he was cumming deep inside you, stuffing you to the hilt with his thick, creamy cum.

And after that incident, you were zoro’s personal flashlight. Always having his cum on either your tits, face or inside your mouth or/and cunt. You were always getting fucked by zoro, well this was bound to happen — he finally found someone he could give his cum to.

You couldn’t say that you were used to his size, you’d still always get shocked whenever his cock would basically slap you in the face. Always having to do hours of prep to make it fit. And as always, you’d getting fucked too dumb you’d pass out while zoro was still thrusting into you.

Sometimes he’d get too riled up and would slam his cock into your “too small” cunt without any prep and would finally release you when he has already stuffed you with his cum at least five times. He would sometimes make you walk around with his cum dripping down your legs and would watch from afar as you try to run to the nearest valley to clean yourself up.

Despite being stretched by his cock way too many times, you’d always feel tight for zoro and you’d also always feel like his splitting you open every time.

And you’re not sure if you’re supposed to be happy that you got yourself a dumb boyfriend with a stupidly big cock which he doesn’t know how to use without your help.

#zoro roronoa x reader #one piece x reader #one piece smut #zoro smut #zoro x reader #op smut #op x reader #op zoro #zoro x you

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cow-smells · 8 months

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Worth your While | Opla! Sanji x reader

Request: I've read that you are in the need for some Sanji request or ideas so here's one for a fic :D

The crew gets into a fight ( it can be the Navy or anither pirate crew) and the reader gets badly hit and Sanji just loses his shit seeing the person that he cared for the most getting knocked out?? I just genuinely wanna see Sanji just go ape shit on people because of it XD and maybe hiw the others in the clue will react to seeing Sanji like that? @smolracoon25

Summary: You and Sanji have been playing the flirting game for way too long. When you get injured, Sanji shows a side of himself you had yet to see.

Word count: 2.1k

Warnings: none

A/n: I'm going purely off the live-action so pls have that in mind, also I'm just getting back in to the rhythm of writing after such a long time so sorry if this is poop/ooc/both, love ya :)

Read on AO3

“Don't you ever take a break?”

Zoro's voice coming from behind startled you, forcing you to break your longing gaze at Sanji who was fishing at the bow of the ship. “Huh?” came your wise response.

Zoro looked from you to Sanji. “You've been making moon eyes at him for months now. Don't you get tired? Or are you waiting for him to take his shift staring at you so that you can clock off?”

You felt heat rising to your cheeks. This was far from the first time crew members commented about you and Sanji's – whatever was going on between you two – but this was the first time Zoro called you out so blatantly.

When you didn't respond, Zoro went on. “I just came to tell you we should be docking soon. I'll leave you the pleasure of telling the cook.” with that, he left.

You closed the book on your lap. You really did have the intention of reading when you first head out to the deck, having some time to kill, but then... you noticed Sanji. At first you thought you'd go sit with him for a while, flirt and banter a little as you always do, but you found yourself absorbed in taking him in instead. He was different when he was alone. The way he looked so focused, so deep in thought when it was just him and the sea. Maybe even a little sad. So different from his usual sunny exterior that he put on when he was with people. Falling in to deep thoughts wondering what he might be thinking about – maybe about you? - you sat and stared, not reading as much as a word.

The book discarded, you felt a spring in your step as you made your way to the ship's chef.

The creaking floorboards alerted your arrival. Sanji turned to see who was creeping up on him, and when he saw you, he set his fishing rod aside as a wide smile grew on his lips, his dimples deepening and making your heart miss a beat. “There's my favourite girl. Come here, let me hear all about your day.” Sanji held his arms open, beckoning you to come sit on his lap.

The flirting was nothing new. When you first joined the Strawhats, Sanji was as flirty to you as he was to any other woman; he did not expect to meet his match in you. You were quick to play along, always one-upping him, dancing along the line that separated playfulness and seriousness, never quite picking a side.

The problem was, in reality, you had chosen a side long ago.

You would flirt and giggle and make him blush but never actually act upon anything. Neither would Sanji. He, however, took your playing along as though it was a battle to be won. Sanji would flirt, you'd reply with something raunchy, he would surprise you with something heartfelt. It was as though he knew exactly where to hit in order to get you a little closer to buckling, every time. As time went on he had become so devoted to your back and forth that you noticed he had gradually abandoned all other efforts flirting with other women, to focus entirely on you.

You had to remind yourself that this was a game to him. An instinct, almost. It hurt to think of your relationship that way, but you had to keep that thought at the forefront of your mind if you didn't want to fall even harder for him.

So you would continue to play along, even if that's all that you could have with him.

You chose not to indulge him completely – that was too dangerous for you – and so you opted to bend a knee over the armrest of his chair. Close, but no contact. “Come on, Sanji,” you bent your head in what felt like a bashful manner and said, “you know I spent all day thinking of you.”

You weren't sure if he was blushing or if that was just your wishful thinking. Composing himself, Sanji wrapped an arm around you to hold your waist, lightly tracing circles on your hip. “I beg of you, darling – next time, come find me instead of just thinking of me. I'll make it worth your while.”

You wanted to ask, how will you make it worth my while? Just to hear Sanji go in to detail of what you've been fantasizing about for months. But instead, you opted for a tamer response. “I came to tell you we're docking soon. Maybe I'll find you then and you could make it worth my while with a drink.”

Without missing a beat, Sanji took hold of your hand, bringing it to his lips. “There's nothing I'd enjoy more.” With that, he kissed your hand, his eyes never leaving yours.

Docking started out normal. Everyone knew what their usual chores were when you reached a town, restocking and fixing so that the ship would be in top condition for its next leg of the journey in your search for the One Piece. So while Sanji went in to town to restock on groceries (you didn't pay much attention to the others), you, Nami and Usopp stayed around the ship to fix up some of the damage it took when you last encountered a rival pirate ship. That also happened to be the reason it was just you three when the same rival pirates noticed your ship docked, ready to take their revenge.

The three of you had your individual talents, but you just weren't enough to hold up against an entire rival crew. They had attacked so suddenly and so fiercely – it didn't take long before you were on the sand, fighting to stay conscious. You lost that fight as you watched Usopp try his best to fight off three attackers at once.

You really thought that would be the end for you. You should have known better; it was Sanji's voice you heard as you regained consciousness, motivating you to open your eyes despite the pain that flooded your body.

The beach area all around you was covered with pirates who were taken down, just like you – only that they were your enemies. You first noticed Nami's orange hair – she seemed to be taking care of a bleeding Usopp, his condition worse than yours. Following Sanji's voice, you found him holding the last one of the rival crew by his shirt, throwing punches like you've never seen him before. It took you aback – thinking about it, you had never seen Sanji use his hands in combat. Too precious – need them for cooking, he'd once told you before adding, the only thing more precious to me is you. It had made you blush at the time before you had laughed him off. Now, you were questioning if it was a joke at all.

The man Sanji was holding wasn't putting up a fight – he was far too battered for that, but Sanji didn't stop. He was too far away for you to understand what he was saying to the guy, but focusing hard, you could just about make out half sentences – "to hit a woman" – "don't deserve to breath" – "finish you" – you searched for the strength to get up and stop him. You had never seen Sanji – your happy, cheerful Sanji – so angry, feral even. It scared you a little; but mostly, you knew Sanji would regret it if he were to kill a man who no longer posed a threat. So you grasped at the sand, forcing your aching bones to pick yourself up. But as you were regaining your balance, Sanji finally threw the man to the sand, a look of disgust painting his handsome features. "Finally made a date with her and you ruined it... You hurt her. You're lucky I don't kill you." The man groaned in pain.

In a sharp change, his features went from anger to concern as he finally left the man and turned to where he last saw you laying. His eyes were full of honest pain, until he saw you on your feet – then they read of hope. "Y/n!" Sanji called, rushing to you as he could see your struggle to stand upright. "You- I-" he scanned your body as he reached you, taking in all visible injuries. "Are you – are you okay? Can I help you?" he reached an arm around your waist, waiting for your approval before he held on to help you stay up, so afraid he might hurt you.

"Thanks." his arm around you really helped you to stay up. It was a practical measure, sure, any one of your crew mates would do the same – but when you look up and meet Sanji's eyes, you know that the tense feeling between you two wouldn't have been replicated with anyone else. "I mean it. You saved us. We'd... I'd be lost without you." at that, Sanji smiled that deep-dimpled smile of his at you, the playfulness not reaching his still-concerned eyes.

"Y/n," he started. "are you really flirting with me, at a time like this?"

It was strange how despite all your injuries, you felt less and less of the pain the longer you leaned in to Sanji, close enough to smell his fragrance. A half-smile reached your lips. You couldn't play this game any longer. "Did you really beat that guy up that bad because he ruined what should have been our... date?"

Sanji tensed, obviously not ready to have this conversation now. His gaze dropped momentarily before he wrapped his other arm around your waist, holding you tightly to him. "I had a hundred reasons to kill him," Sanji said, and you felt disappointment bubbling through you until he continued, "but the most pressing reason is that he ruined our date."

Sanji took the opportunity to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear and you couldn't help but smile so big you were embarrassed by it. "I really wanted that drink with you, away from the ship and everyone else. Just us."

You recomposed yourself. You needed clarity. "I'm not playing anymore, Sanji."

Sanji chuckled. "Fancy that. I was never playing at all."

You must have forgotten how to breath at all when he leaned down, his hand finding a rest on your neck as his thumb caressed your cheek. Nearly a whisper, he asked – "Can I kiss you?"

You leaning in served as the consent he searched for. After months of pining over each other, wondering what it would be like – his lips met yours, in a mixture of softness and passion like you'd never felt before. Forgetting you were injured at all you sneaked your arms around his neck, pulling him in, almost afraid of letting this anticipated moment of passion go. Sanji was more than happy to pull closer, a hand on your lower back holding you impossibly close to him.

The moment did, however, find its end as you heard your Captain whoop and holler from afar. "Yeah! Way to go, Sanji! About damn time!"

Breaking the kiss, Sanji nodded at Luffy, his smile lines prominent as he looked the proudest you'd ever seen him.

The crew was more than happy to make a quick exit that night, preferring to not stay around until the rival crew regained their strength. You were helping Nami untie the ropes anchoring the ship to the dock when she said, "I really thought he was going to kill him earlier." you didn't know how to respond. "I've never seen Sanji like that." Nami managed to untie a knot, and Zoro began pulling the rope up on to the ship. "He's really got it bad for you."

Despite that questionable context, you couldn't help but smile. In a burst of honesty you confessed; "I hope so, because I've got it real bad for him, too."

On cue, the ship's chef leaned over the ships railing, looking down to you. "Y/n, my love!" he called, as though the rest of the crew wasn't surrounding the both of you. "I hope you're finished down there, because I've got a candlelit dinner waiting for you up here. And drinks. You know, to make it worth your while," he finished with a wink.

From behind Sanji you could hear Luffy ask, "What about our dinner? Just because you're lovers now doesn't mean we don't need to eat..."

Sanji sighed and turned away from you, probably to go protect your dinner before Luffy demolished it.

"Right then, let's go," Nami said as you finished untying the last rope. "While there's still food to eat."

And for the first time, you boarded your ship not to find the One Piece or the All Blue – you were just happy to be there, with the man you loved.

#vinsmoke sanji #one piece sanji #one piece live action sanji #sanji x reader #sanji imagine #sanji fanfic #sanji fanfiction #vinsmoke sanji x reader #one piece sanji imagine #one piece sanji x reader #one piece live action sanji x reader #opla!sanji x reader

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werecreature-addicted · 8 months

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this is really specific but imagine being a Farmer and taking in a Minotaur who was abused and used for fighting. And like he’s bred to be a absolute f**cking tank. im talking like 8’6, scars and muscles, massive strong horns, callused hands etc. Because of the abuse and the fighting he was forced Into all his life he hates all humans, but for some reason he doesn’t want to hurt you. And as the months slowly rolls by he starts to warm up to you to the point he lets you touch him…Just for a little bit though

He is always surprised by your kindness. He's known many humans, and none have ever smiled at him like you do. Or ask him how his day has been. What surprises him most is how you always look him in the eyes when you talk to him. You never bark orders while absentmindedly checking your phone or blatantly examining his muscles while asking him to do labor. You always look him in the eye, or at least you look up. Sometimes it's hard to meet his gaze, especially if the sun is in your eyes and you can't quite make out where his head is. But that little act of respect almost always surprises him. It's almost like you see him as an equal.

You always say please and thank you. Even when he's just doing his job, work is the only reason he's here, yet you act like he's done you a huge favor when he does something as simple as refilling the watering cans. He almost never responds either, He just grunts dismissively. That never seems to bother you. No, nothing as shallow as a bad attitude would darken your sunshine.

It's funny. He's never really "liked" something about a human before. He's respected some of them. He's admired the bravery of the ones stupid enough to step in the ring with him. But he actually likes your positive attitude, and how nice you are... and your smile.

He likes the sunshine. On sunny days when there isn't much work left, you'll often find him lying in the middle of the field, enjoying the sun. He doesn't mind talking about his scars if you want to ask. Though, to be honest. He doesn't remember the details of most of them. It's all the same story anyway. A fight. A lance to the side before the fight to make him mad. A beating after he lost a fight. The individual scars all seem to blur together.

You show him a few of your scars, and you seem to remember the stories better. There's a web of scaring over the back of your hand he's noticed before but never asked about. You tell him you were stringing up a barbed wire fence, and the wire cut your knuckles. It bothers him for some reason. You're so sweet, never having been in a fight, and still you have scars. He doesn't like the idea of you being hurt. He tells you if the fence ever needs repairs he'll do it for you.

You're always careful not to touch him. He flinches if you so much as move too fast, and well... he is an animal, a reactive one at that. You're right to be cautious around him. It doesn't hurt his feelings. He respects you for the space you give him. He does have a sneaking suspicion that you want to touch him.

When he tells you about his past, you'll reach for his hand before pulling away and telling him how sorry you are to hear that. Or when he hands you something, you'll brush your fingers against his, even when you're normally so cautious to not let that happen.

Your eyes land on a piece of hay striking out of his messy hair right by his ear. You point it out but, he can't seem to find it himself. He always just barely misses it. Eventually, he crouches and bows his head low enough for you to reach the top of his head.

"Can you uhm, will you get it for me?" he asks shyly. You nod and easily pull out the hay. you pull away but he stops you.

"Wait- just check for anything else stuck in my hair, please?" he asks. you comply, running your fingers through his hair and checking for any more hay.

He still doesn't like being touched, but it's nice to know that your hands are soft and your touch is as kind and gentle as everything else about you. He wonders if touch could feel good and if you'd be willing to show him.

#monster fucker #monster #monster boyfriend #teratophillia #monster imagine #minotaur boyfriend #minotaur x reader #minotaur smut

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bokutosbiceps · 5 months

Text

don't be afraid to catch feels

eustass kid/monkey d luffy/roronoa zoro/trafalgar d water law/usopp/vinsmoke sanji x gn!reader | fluff | ~2k words

warnings: some suggestive/18+ themes but nothing explicit

a/n: idk i just really wanted to write so THIS was born !!! how some of the one piece boys realize they have feelings for ya !! might do this for other fandoms too…actually yeah i will LOL probably if i don’t forget

NOTE: i end them after their confession on PURPOSE so you can choose your own adventure 😆 also there’s more dialogue for luffy’s + usopp’s so they’re a bit longer !!

18+ MDNI | under the cut for length

eustass kid is angry. he's angry that he developed a crush on you. it's so stupid, he thinks. so outta character.

everyone on the victoria punk knows it, including you. and much to kid’s dismay, so does killer. killer talks to him about it everyday, trying to coax a confession out of him in the most gentle yet firm way he can. he wants his captain to be happy, and he knows that you can make him happy, because you already do without knowing it.

kid is completely docile in your presence, and protective. he’s more quiet, because he wants to hear what you have to say. he’s around more, because he wants to keep an eye on you. and maybe because he likes being in your presence.

kid tells (threatens) the rest of his crew that, even though they’re like brothers to him, they’ll be ripped to shreds if any of them so much as glance at you the wrong way.

luckily for you and unluckily for him, you’d heard his very public threat to the kid pirates, save for you.

you ask kid what the hell all that was about and he simply shrugs, rolling his eyes and trying but failing to keep his cool. you scoff and chuckle at his indignance. you continue to press him till he finally gets annoyed and locks eyes with you, his pupils dilated and his lips spread out into a crazy grin.

“jus’ claiming what’s mine.”

monkey d luffy is seeking out the smartest person he knows, and once he sees her, he’s barreling toward her at lightning speed. hands appear, arising from the wood of the sunny’s deck and forming a net right in front of robin, effectively catching luffy and recoiling him flat onto his butt.

“robin! what was that for?” luffy whines, adjusting his straw hat and tilting it back so that he can look at robin.

“i’d prefer to not be crashed into, captain.” robin shuts her book and gives luffy a gentle, almost maternal smile. “now, what has you so excited?”

luffy is thoughtful as he opts to lay back down on the deck, tilting his straw hat over his face to shield his eyes from the sun. he’s not excited, kinda confused, actually.

he’s good with his feelings, because he knows his feelings. he's familiar with them. but these feelings—the ones he's been feeling for the past couple of weeks or so—are new. he doesn’t know them, but he wants to learn about them. so here he is, ready to learn with the smartest person he knows.

“well…i wouldn’t call it excited, ya know?” luffy stretches his arms overhead before folding them behind his head. robin chuckles quietly, already aware of luffy’s feelings before he'd even realized them himself.

“what would you call it then?” robin asks patiently.

“like…i dunno! it’s different! it’s different with ‘em…” luffy trails off, sinking back into his thoughts.

“different with who?”

“y/n!” luffy chirps, feeling himself smile at the mention of your name. “i’m really happy they’ve joined the crew!”

“happy like…you’re happy that i joined the crew?”

“nuh uh, like…i always wanna be near ‘em. i like when they laugh, when they’re happy. their smile’s real nice, too.” luffy pauses. “it’s a lot of fun to be alone with ‘em! makes me feel good…”

robin takes her time explaining what these feelings mean, that that bubbly, queasy feeling in his stomach was not, in fact, indigestion. once robin’s words seep into luffy’s thick, rubber skull, he jumps up off the deck and wraps robin in a tight hug, grinning the whole time and whisper yelling i gotta go tell ‘em!

luffy finds you instantly, almost like his body contains a homing device that always leads to you. you notice way too late that you are in the direct path of the tornado that is luffy, and he tackles you, causing you to fall back. luffy is quick to catch you, stretching an arm around your waist and bringing you to his chest, looking at your face with such intensity you can’t keep your face from heating up.

you’re breathless. due to the adrenaline from almost cracking your skull against the wood of the ship, and from the i’ve got feelings for ya! robin says they're love feelings! do you feel the same? that rushed out of luffy’s mouth.

roronoa zoro is confused. honestly, more confused than he’s ever been in his life. then he’s annoyed. why did he have to develop feelings for a crewmate, let alone you? it would just get in the way of everything. he wants to focus on his dream, on luffy’s dream, and sometimes even on sanji’s dream.

he doesn’t consider himself a particularly selfish person, but he wanted to focus on himself first.

but then he sees you smile. he hears you laugh. he watches you work and hone your craft, a look of ecstatic determination on your face and the tip of your tongue peeking out between your pursed lips as you focus. suddenly, he realizes it’s really not about him anymore. it’s about you.

he starts to avoid you like the plague—he figures that if he can’t see you, you can’t see him. but he’s oh so wrong.

when you decide you've had enough of this, you stop zoro, your hand gripping his shoulder and pulling as hard as you can. zoro raises an eyebrow at you and turns around, crossing his arms and waiting for you to explain yourself.

“you’ve been avoiding me.” you state, leaving no room for disagreement or excuses.

“says who?” zoro is very good at playing dumb.

“says me. and luffy.” you huff a bit as you remember your encounter with your captain. how his lips had twisted to the side and how his eyes had shot up to the sky when you’d asked what zoro’s problem was.

“luffy doesn’t know—”

“know why you’ve been avoiding me?” you step closer to zoro, your eyes locked on his and staring into his soul, searching for answers. “i’m sure we’d both love to know.”

zoro scoffs and rolls his eyes, taking a step back from you and turning his face to the sea. the cool ocean breeze feels nice against his burning face. he grimaces as he turns back to you, figuring he might as well get this over with.

“ilikeyou.” zoro mumbles, the words rushing out of his mouth and stopping quickly as they had started.

you shake your head and lean closer to zoro, turning your head to the side so his lips are inches away from your cheek.

“can you repeat that, please, roronoa?”

“i like you.” zoro says the three, short, quipped words. he’s frowning and his arms are crossed and pulled tightly against his chest, in hopes to dampen the hammering of his heart.

trafalgar d water law is no stranger to stuffing his feelings deep inside of his chest and leaving them there to rot. so he’s wondering why in the fresh hell these annoying feelings for you keep resurfacing. they crawl up his esophagus and reflux into his mouth, leaving a bitter taste behind and making him scowl every time he feels them.

and to you, it seems as though every time the two of you lock cross paths, he narrows his eyes at you and stalks away. he rarely talks to you anymore, although the conversations you'd shared before were usually very short, yet somehow still meaningful.

you decide to confront him about it, byway of bepo, who happened to know exactly why law was seemingly scarce around you.

“c-captain? our captain?” bepo stutters, bringing his paw up to his mouth and feigning surprise. “wow! i have no clue why he’d do something like that!”

you frown at bepo. it’s painfully obvious he knows everything about the answer to your question. “spill it, bepo.”

bepo starts to make gestures with his hands and little struggle noises with his mouth. he has no clue how to get out of this one. so he does, indeed, spill it.

a few minutes later, after bepo was done with his rambling and law’s confession, you approach law with a smug smile on your face.

it doesn’t take a genius to be able to tell why you’re smirking like that, and law immediately pinches the bridge of his nose and tilts his head down.

“that damn bear…”

usopp is sweaty. he’s sweaty, he’s wringing his hands, twirling his hair around his fingers, readjusting his goggles on top of his head. he can’t sit still. he’s been thinking about how on earth to deal with his feelings: does he just shove 'em deep down inside or does he shout 'em from the crow’s nest? he hasn’t had romantic feelings for anyone since he left kaya, and he simply cannot deal.

“usopp…” nami says softly, touching usopp on the shoulder. he jumps, then flinches at his overreaction to his best friend’s simple and gentle gesture. “can you just tell them, please?”

“n-no! why should i?” usopp frowns at nami and furrows his eyebrows, knowing full well that it’d be best for his health and the crew’s sanity to just come out and tell you.

“if you don’t…” nami grins at him, slowly and mischievously, “i’ll tell them myself.”

usopp immediately springs up from his chosen sulking location and mutters an okay, okay! behind him as he leaves nami. he’s back to sweating, wringing his hands, playing with his hair, and fidgeting with his goggles.

you notice usopp looking particularly dreadful and wait for him to get closer to your position on the deck. you reach out and catch his hand, giving it a light tug so that he’s moving closer to you. he seems so deep in thought that he doesn’t even notice.

“usopp?” you tug on his hand twice, trying to get his attention. usopp meets your gaze and stares at you blankly before shaking his head and becoming aware of the situation. he tries to withdraw his hand from your grip but you’re holding on tightly, and he realizes he’s trapped.

“y/n! fancy seeing you here!” usopp laughs loudly, trying to mask the way that he’s absolutely crumbling and melting.

“what’s on your mind, usopp?”

“you.” usopp covers his mouth with his free hand immediately after the words come out of his mouth. what was he thinking, being so forward? he quickly looks away from you, directing his eyes to the clouds above. “i mean, nami was talking about you earlier. that’s why i’m thinking about you. no other reason!”

a small smile spreads across your lips. “oh, yeah. she told me something super interesting about you earlier today…” you say, drawing out the last few syllables and relishing in the way usopp looks at you in utter horror.

“nami told you that i like you?” he breathes.

“no, but you just did.”

vinsmoke sanji is aware that he actually likes you. that you're not just another pretty face he admires. he’s always known you were gorgeous, the apple of his eye, the object of his affection. you never noticed that it different, though. thinking back on it, you’re glad that you didn’t notice, because you might’ve thought it meant something bad. quite the contrary, in fact.

sanji knows he loves you when he feels calm in your presence. when he’s not acting like a fan boy and when he spends hours talking with you while he cooks or does the dishes or plans the crew's next meal. you’re always around, and yet, he’s never nervous.

when he really realizes it, though, it’s when he catches a glimpse of nami’s naked silhouette through the crack in the bathroom door and he doesn’t even flinch. not a tingle, not a single palpitation. it’s not you, and his heart knows it, so he’s calm. this is when he knows he has to confess.

“y/n…darling…” sanji says, grasping your hands in his own and looking you in the eyes. “i have to tell you something—something i’ve never told anyone before.”

you look at him, an eyebrow raised in skeptical curiosity. sanji looks worried, and he almost never looks worried. your mind is going a mile a minute, your brain flipping through pages and pages of things he could possibly say to you within the next minute. because of this, you miss the way sanji squeezes your hands, and the way he sucks in a deep breath.

“i’m in love with you.”

taglist: @usoppsstar (i literally can’t remember anyone else rn lolol, i just knew i wanted to surprise ya coco) | @kingofthe-egirls | @pileofmush | @anemptypuddingcup

#one piece #one piece x reader #kid x reader #luffy x reader #zoro x reader #law x reader #usopp x reader #sanji x reader #eustass kid #monkey d luffy #roronoa zoro #trafalgar d law #trafalgar d water law #vinsmoke sanji

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ghost-proofbaby · 1 year

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friday, i'm in love (eddie munson x reader)

summary: one of these days, you'll talk to the cute boy at your coffee shop. just... not today. (wc: 6.3k+)

order up! i've got one cup of sunshine for @munson-blurbs ♡

Today’s the day.

You take a deep breath, adjusting the strap of your bag as it digs into your shoulder.

Today’s the day.

You pull the door open for your local Starbucks, your preferred study date destination.

Today’s the day.

You smile at one of the other regulars, a kind and older gentleman named Jim. If you focus on Jim, your eyes won’t avert to him.

Today’s the day.

You already know he’s here. You delude yourself into believing you can specifically hear the scratch of his pencil on paper, that every click of a mouse or clack of a keyboard is coming from his laptop. Hell, maybe if you closed your eyes, you’d convince yourself the music humming over the shop’s speakers is actually the muffled tone warbling out of his headphones.

Today’s the day.

You order one of your normal drinks, one brimming with caffeine and drowning in enough sweet caramel drizzle to give you instantaneous cavities. It doesn’t matter – today’s meant to be a sweet day. The weather’s nice, nothing like it was last week when you’d been ordering a hot Earl Grey tea sweetened with honey each day, and you tell the young man taking your order that it’ll be iced.

He’s new. You have no doubt in your mind, because he wasn’t here last week, and one of the baristas you do recognize is hovering to the side as he rings you out.

You’re a creature of habit. All the baristas know you well, other regulars (see: Jim) even recognize you these days. You used to only come in once or twice a week, either to cram for tests or play a morbid game of catchup with all your homework, but something changed in the last two months.

He showed up in the last two months.

Today’s… not the day.

You turn with your overly sweet drink in hand only to be met with sore disappointment. You were right, he is here, already seated at his usual table.

And he’s joined by a girl and boy you’ve never seen before, but he surely has, by the way he’s all smiles and laughter focused directly at the pair.

You try to not let your stomach drop too low, to catch it before it hits the ground and gathers any unwanted attention your way. It’s fine, it’s okay, it’s good – today wasn’t the day, but maybe tomorrow will be. Maybe tomorrow can finally be the day you speak to the boy from the coffee shop who’s overrun your thoughts one day at a time, the boy you see every day like clockwork, the boy you’ve never exchanged a single word with.

“Dingus, you can’t just say that to a girl!” the girl seated in front of him, her back to you, yells as she smacks Dingus on the chest.

Your coffeeshop boy only cackles in delight, and you feel as if the sunshine that has broken through the cloud cover outside has wormed its way into your veins. His laugh is brilliant and warming as it echoes in your chest, and you try to remind your beating heart that it isn’t yours to keep. That doesn’t stop your arteries and veins from wrapping their way around the sound and thrumming to match its pace. It doesn’t stop your ribs from trying to hopelessly capture the sunshine. Maybe one day you’ll make him laugh like that, maybe one day you’ll find the nerve to strike a conversation with him.

Tomorrow has to be the day, since this sunny Monday hasn’t been.

—

Tuesday also isn’t the day.

You don’t even have a good excuse this time. He’s alone today, just as he usually is. His headphones are already in once you’ve arrived and you can hear tinny guitar solos blaring out of them from across the room. You almost convince yourself that that’s a good reason to approach him, to tap his shoulder and let him know how listening to music that loudly can permanently damage your eardrums, y’know?

But then you realized how prissy that made you sound. If you did that, you’re sure Chrissy, one of your favorite baristas here, would absolutely taunt you for days on end, probably making jabs about you being a grandma, going the full mile and offering you a senior discount just for shit and giggles.

So you stay seated. And you meet the peculiar look of Chrissy as she watches you and Eddie, the only two customers in the lobby this time of afternoon, as if she’s waiting for something to happen. Anything. The raise of her eyebrows serves as a painful prodding in your side as if to say “Well? What are you waiting for? Go on.”

You don’t go on. And that’s the issue – for the last two months, you have let the idea of some stranger completely occupy every thought you have to spare without even knowing his name. He was just always here; two months ago, your once quaint and nice study spot was infiltrated by wild curls and drumming fingers, plush pink lips that could make the older ladies that pass through absolutely swoon with a simple smirk and hello. You’d talked the ear off of all your friends for nearly an hour the day he’d worn grey sweatpants in rather than his normal ripped jeans. You’d caught yourself staring intently at the various rings that decorate his left hand on more than one occasion, trying to make out what the various symbols of silver were.

“This is getting painful to watch.”

You hadn’t even noticed Chrissy round the counter and head over to your table with a cloth in hand until she was looking down at you with a soft, childish pout and her big blue eyes framed with furrowed brows.

“What?” you question, putting down the pen you’d been clicking on and off for the last ten minutes, making no move to properly revise and submit the essay lighting up the screen of your laptop.

Chrissy keeps her voice low, moving to lean down closer to you under the guise of wiping the table beside yours, “The two of you. It’s painful, babe. One of you has to stop making eyes and make the first real move eventually.”

Real. A word you had cursed over a glass of wine with your roommate last night.

She’d pointed out the way you only liked the idea of your coffee shop boy thus far, how you had yet to introduce yourself to the real him. Which, she was right, of course. It was easiest this way; from a distance, he can be anything you want. He could be your easy Sunday mornings, sleepy smiles over toast and coffee made at home. He could be your tired Thursday evenings, coming straight home from whatever class or shift had wreaked havoc on your mind and right into his arms, popcorn and a movie already waiting for you to decompress over as you told him about your day. He could be a source of comfort on cold nights, a breath of fresh air on warmer mornings. He could be anything, as long as he continued to be just your coffee shop boy. A fruitless crush you’d always observe from across a bustling lobby. Keeping him at an arm’s length kept both of you safe: from disappointment, from complications, from reality.

“Just because we both come in everyday to use your free wifi and drink your mediocre coffee, doesn’t mean you get to play match-maker when you’re bored,” you try to keep a straight face as you say this, forcing a look of disinterest as Chrissy stares you down.

Normally, this would be the part where you’d snap at Chrissy that if she was so piqued in her interest with your coffeeshop boy, she could ask him out herself. But he wasn’t Chrissy’s type – the round enamel pin on her apron with a faded, baby pink background, multiple cats stacked on top of one another in different shades of pink, orange, and white, told you as much. The heart eyes she’d made at the girl that had been here with him the day before confirmed it.

“Don’t be so pissy,” Chrissy teases, “Or I’ll revoke wifi privileges.”

“You don’t scare me, Chris.”

“I should.”

“You’re all bark, no bite,” you scoff, a bit louder than before, and don’t even notice your boy subtly taking one of his earbuds out, fighting to keep his eyes down to the page he’s scribbling on rather than glancing up at your interaction, “And I use bark sparingly, considering your bubblegum pink aesthetic doesn’t exactly scream scary dog.”

Chrissy grins wider at your words – you’ve never backed down from being brazen with your humor against her. You don’t treat her grossly delicate or thickly lay on fake niceties. You’re genuine. It’s probably a contributing factor to you being her favorite regular.

He snorts, and you just barely catch the echo of the sound, making both you and Chrissy glance in his direction.

His eyes are glued on his notebook as a blush begins to spread up his neck. You can’t help the shy smile that urges the corners of your mouth upwards.

Talk to him, Chrissy mouths obnoxiously as she grabs her rag, taking slow and exaggerated steps backwards before she spins, her blonde ponytail bouncing as she speed-walks back behind the counter.

One day, you’ll talk to him. Soon.

—

Soon comes too soon. Far too soon and far too embarrassing of circumstances.

One moment, your eyes are glued to the statistics textbook in front of you, laptop set off to the side with your headphones connected in and a study playlist queued up on Spotify. The next, someone’s frappucino is spilling across the pages of numbers and percentages, making you gasp and jump back to no avail. The damage is done – your book is ruined, the front of your shirt is soaked, and all of your handwritten notes are now soggy and unreadable.

“Oh, shit!” the poor kid who had been the culprit stands before you, stunned and red with embarrassment as his friends quiet their cackling from behind him. It’s clear the group had been rough-housing, and that’s what led to this accident.

You zero in on a melting glob of whipped cream that settles into the open spine of the textbook, mouth falling agape as tears fill your eyes immediately.

Shit. No. No, no, no. This was a rental.

None of the younger boys are the one to make a move to help you. The baristas don’t stand a chance, delayed in even noticing the commotion. You’re a statue of bleary vision and panicking breaths as you realize the sticky mess is everywhere, including your laptop.

Your coffeeshop boy notices immediately. He’d noticed the moment the young boy had lost his balance beside you, was already scooting out his chair and jumping up before the blended coffee had even made contact with your table.

You come to your senses right around the time he’s at your side, a fistful of napkins, uselessly attempting to save your textbook that was already clearly ruined.

“Ah, fuck,” he whispers as he uses up all the napkins he’d managed to snag, looking up wildly at you, eyes zeroing in on the mess on the front of your shirt. You can’t even relish in the fact that this is the first time you’ve heard his voice so closely; you’re mortified and trembling, still unsure of whether you’re more angry about your textbook, your laptop, or your shirt, “Hey, you okay?”

Tears. There’s tears streaming down your face, hot with embarrassment and anger and defeat. You think the kid whose drink is now in your lap has been apologizing, but you pay him no mind.

“Go get cleaned up,” the coffeeshop boy immediately moves out of the way, motioning you out of your seat, towards the bathrooms, “I’ll watch your stuff, try to clean it up some, too.”

He doesn’t have to tell you twice. You’re up in an instant, ignoring the stares of the baristas and the other boys, racing to the back corner of the shop where the two single-person bathrooms reside. You rush into one blindly, trying to calm your erratic heart and the impending panic attack.

It takes you twelve minutes to do so. Three splashes of cool water to the face, two pep talks about how it “wasn’t that bad”, and another whole minute of blankly staring into the mirror at the baby-hairs that frame your face that are now wet and plastered to your cheeks and forehead alike, just wondering where you’ll come up with the money for your damaged textbook.

And laptop. It also got on your laptop, son of a bitch.

You also have to come to terms with the fact that you’d burst into silent tears in the middle of your favorite coffee shop. In front of your coffee shop fantasy crush. You may never recover from that embarrassment, if you’re being honest with yourself.

A small knock comes from the door of the bathroom, forcing you to sigh deeply before gathering up all your composure and broken pride.

“Yeah?” you ask through the crack, hardly opening the door.

It’s Chrissy, standing wide-eyed and hopelessly holding two pieces of clothing in her hand, “Okay, so uh, we don’t have any spare shirts here. But… But I have a spare apron? And a spare jacket? I’m sorry, these are awful options.”

“I…” I’d rather die than wear that apron, or ruin someone’s jacket. “It’s fine, Chris. I’ll probably get going anyways.”

“But your shirt is all-” she pauses, and you could burst into tears all over again at the way she scrunches her nose so adorably, “-sticky.”

“It’ll be fine.”

“It’ll get all over your car.”

“It’s already all over my stuff. Might as well go big or go home.”

“I owe you a free coffee now, you know that?” Chrissy’s shoulders finally deflate in defeat, accepting your stubbornness as the winning contender, “Next time you come in, probably tomorrow. Whatever you want. It’s on the house, I sw-”

“Damn, now I wish some twerp spilled their mocha cookie whatever all over me,” it’s him – your coffee shop boy. A boy who came to your rescue, a boy who lives in all your bedtime fantasies, and a boy whose name you still don’t know. Chrissy turns and the two of you both look at him, you opening the bathroom door wider despite your embarrassment. He immediately throws up a hand in surrender, “Sorry, I’m, uh- shit, I’m interrupting. But I just… Uh, well. Okay, this is weird. Really weird. You can ban me if this is too weird,” he turns to Chrissy with wide brown eyes, making her immediately cross her arms across her chest defensively, “Seriously, okay? Say the word, I’ll accept my banishment. I just-”

“What’s behind your back?” Chrissy narrows her eyes. You hadn’t even noticed the boy hiding something, too busy being enamored by his stumbling words and adorable blush. Fuck. You hated it; you hated the fact that everyone was right, and the real him was even more adorable than you could have anticipated.

He brings his arm out from behind him, and when you see what’s in his clutches, you nearly scream in frustration.

He’s not just more adorable than the fantasized versions of him you’ve created – he’s more thoughtful, too. It spells out trouble for you and your restless, irrevocably romantic heart.

“I keep spare shirts in my van,” he explains sheepishly, “I swear it’s clean. It’s for- well, I… It’s for ‘just in case’ situations. Sort of like this one, I guess.”

Chrissy is quick to take it from him, passing it along to you as she keeps staring him down, “How convenient.”

“Very,” he nearly cowers under her stare, swallowing hard before turning to you, “You don’t have to give it back or anything. You can even burn it, for all I care. It’s just some shirt for… for, uh, some shitty band.”

You don’t think too much about the comment, just shut the door and leave Chris alone with the coffeeshop boy, silently praying she doesn’t tear into him unnecessarily after the act of kindness. You change shirts, dabbing at your chest with wet paper towels between peeling off your coffee-stained blouse and switching it for your coffeeshop boy’s shirt.

Corroded Coffin. It’s not a band you recognize, as you read out the jagged writing of the logo across the front of the black t-shirt. The white font pops and you’re already trying to think of an easy segue into maybe discussing whoever this ‘shitty band’ is with coffeeshop boy rather than the mortifying disaster you’d just endured from a group of young teenage boys who knew no better.

But when you leave the bathroom, that group of scoundrels is gone, along with coffeeshop boy. Chrissy wears an apologetic look over the shoulder of a customer she’s taking the order of at the front counter. It does nothing to wear on the sinking feeling of disappointment in your gut, that deflation at realizing he didn’t wait around for you. The customer pays and leaves the counter, and Chrissy almost looks to be expecting you to stop and say something, but you don’t.

You don’t say a single word. Only rush and gather your things off the table, which are surprisingly clean. Coffeeshop boy did a good job.

Too bad you don’t have the chance to tell him.

Reality, you decide, has something in common with the coffee; it’s always going to end with a bitter bite, no matter how much sweetness you suffocate it with.

—

You don’t return for several days after Wednesday’s incident. Thursday turns to Friday, Friday bleeds into Saturday, and by the time Sunday rears its ugly head, you’re still wallowing in self-pity. Embarrassment has a way of sinking deep into your bones, and no amount of curling up in the center of your bed will make it fade. You try to sit up at your desk and finish some of the revisions you’d been working on that awful day before wearing some kid’s frappucino, but you can’t focus. The pages of your rental textbook are still sticky, your S and K keys now only work half the time, and you can’t find the right study playlist. The atmosphere is wrong, the vibe is wrong, everything is just wrong.

At least you hadn’t resorted to wearing Coffeshop Boy’s shirt. You’d thought about it, of course, but you hadn’t hit that low of a point. Not yet, at least.

Your roommate can’t take it. She insists you get out of the house, simply because your moping is “too fucking sad” to witness. To which you obviously had to retort, “how do you think I feel?”.

So now you’ve been standing outside of your usual Starbucks for five minutes. Squinting like a weirdo through the large, front windows, trying to make out if he was there. Or maybe the ‘twerp’ who had spilled the frappucino. You weren’t looking for a fight – you just needed to avoid every individual who had witnessed the most embarrassing day of your life to date.

“He’s not here,” a voice suddenly says from behind you. You jump a fraction before spinning and catching sight of one of those damn witnesses: Chrissy, “He never comes in on Sundays. You don’t, either, by the way. What gives?”

“I’ve come in on Sundays before,” you deflect.

Chrissy laughs, shaking her head, brushing past you with her green apron rolled up into one of her fists, “No, you haven’t. So I’ll ask again,” she pauses, opening one of the front doors and motioning for you to enter first, “What gives?”

Your feet drag as you walk past her, the lobby eerily quiet. At the very least, she’s right – there’s no sign of your coffeeshop boy. Just some old dude with a newspaper in your usual corner, and a girl with a laptop, seemingly in some sort of video meeting, in coffeeshop boy’s usual spot.

“No hidden romance there, unfortunately,” Chrissy notices your staring and waves between the patrons. Neither so much as look up, “You and Eddie are our store’s only modern Romeo and Juliet.”

“Who?”

“Eddie,” she repeats, watching the realization spread across your face. A smirk appears on her glossy lips as she clarifies anyways, “Your knight-in-shining-armor. The boy you’ve been making heart eyes at for weeks. The dude of your dreams-”

“Okay, okay, I get it,” you cut her off, cheeks already warming as you glance again to the girl and the old man. Still no reaction. Your mortification today, it seems, has no audience.

Eddie. Eddie. Eddie.

The name thrums through your chest, excitement and a twinge of guilt racing through your veins.

Your coffeeshop boy’s name is Eddie.

“I never knew his name,” you whisper quietly, catching yourself staring in the occupied seat that is usually his. “I… Have you known it this entire time?”

Chrissy shakes her head, “No, I asked him Thursday. You know, the first day of your disappearance.”

You can’t even process her slight jab at you, or the way she tilts her chin as she waits for a reaction. You’re too busy thinking about Eddie. Eddie, who doesn’t come here on Sundays. Eddie, who keeps spare t-shirts in his van– Eddie, who drives a goddamn van.

He’s suddenly tangible. It’s dizzying.

“He asked about you, y’know,” Chrissy’s voice is low and you finally glance back to her, “On Thursday. And Friday. He asked about you.”

Eddie, who you’ve been waiting for the day to introduce yourself to. Eddie, who asked about you.

“What’d he ask? Specifically?” you question, taking a deep breath and trying to clear your thoughts.

“If you’d been in, if I’d seen you. He even asked for your name.”

“Did you tell him?”

“Nope,” she grins, blue eyes sparkling, “I figured I’d give you the honor.”

It’s on Sunday that you decide the next day you see coffeshop boy, that you see Eddie, it will be the day. It’s only fair that he knows your name now that you know his, after all.

—

Monday isn’t the day, and neither is Tuesday. You show up to the Starbucks, you take your usual spot, you spend hours studying – Eddie never shows up. Wednesday and Thursday aren’t the days either, filled with finals and celebratory dinners at twenty-four hour diners with friends.

By Friday, you’re missing your coffeeshop romance terribly.

But Friday, as it turns out, isn’t quite as unlucky as the rest of the week. You wake up that morning, and you can feel it in your bones; today’s the day. You’ll see Eddie today. You’ll introduce yourself to Eddie today, without a Mocha Cookie Crumble Frappucino soaking your shirt. It’s an acknowledge truth in your bones, maybe even in the stars. Everything is aligning, and you were going to stop spending your days with your head in the clouds. Maybe it would fizz out, and the crush that had kept you on the edge of your seat, that had kept you mildly entertained for months would lead to nothing. But maybe, just maybe, this could be a beginning. A leap of faith into reality that could turn into something real.

When you first show up, you don’t see him. It’s during the tail-end of the morning rush that you make your way in, ordering your usual iced coffee and taking your usual seat with the perfect view of Eddie’s usual seat. Customers filter in and out, a line occasionally forming before the baristas take care of it quickly, but not a single person is the one you’re looking for.

You distract yourself. You busy yourself with pulling out your laptop, glancing over whichever grades have been finalized, pondering over the ones that have yet to be set in stone. Once you’ve beat that horse to death and have nothing left but scholarly anxiety bubbling up, you’ve moved on to making a spreadsheet of all the books you want to read during the summer, with all the free hours you definitely weren’t going to waste, and would totally make use of. You even color code by genre.

You think you have more fun making the spreadsheet than you will enjoy the actual reading over the novels you listed.

Just as you’ve finished your iced coffee, ready to move onto looking at goddamn Yahoo news to entertain yourself, a cup is sat down in front of you. A hot grande cup.

You read the sticker turned towards you before you even spare a glance to the person who’d sat down the drink: a grande Earl Grey tea, sweetened with one packet of honey.

“Chrissy, I only get this when it’s rain-” you start, assuming the barista would be the one standing over your table. It isn’t. It’s coffeeshop boy – it’s Eddie. You can’t help the curse that falls from your lips, “Oh, shit.”

“Sorry,” he bites his lip as if holding back a life, hands nervously shoved into the front pockets of his jeans as he rocks on his heels, “I just… I honestly don’t know what you usually get. But your cup was empty when I walked in, and the one time I got here before you, this was the drink you got, but now that I think about it, it was raining that day and that didn’t even cross my mind-”

Your smile is slow as it uncurls, so saccharine and so enamored as you finally cut off his rambling, “Thank you.”

He doesn’t look reassured in the slightest, paling as he stutters out, “Oh, God. I- I’m a creep for remembering that, aren’t I? Fuck, I’m sorry. I just wanted to do something nice because I know Thursday was so rough-” he cuts off at your subtle wince at the reminder of that entire tragedy, “Sorry. God, how many times can I say sorry, am I right?”

Eddie, who is absolutely fumbling over rambles like a fool when he approaches you to talk to you first. Eddie, who is quickly shaping up to be better than even your wildest dreams.

“First of all,” you start, nervously making eye contact, trying to calm your nerves by reminding yourself he’s an even bigger mess than you right now, “You’re not a creep for remembering that. That’s… it’s really thoughtful, actually,” he breaks out into a restrained smile, the smallest glimpse of relief on his face, so you continue, “And second of all… I mean, who knows? Maybe it’ll rain and you saved me some trouble.”

He lets out a bark of laughter at that, and immediately, all frozen awkwardness around the moment shatters. Whatever pedestal you’d set the boy on the last several weeks has crumbled with ease. Reality comes crashing down, and you relish in it.

You relish in the golden streaks through his messy curls, and you drown in the richness of his brown eyes, entrancing this close up. You relish in that dimple in his right cheek, deep enough to swallow you whole as he recollects himself. You relish in the fact that he’s here, it’s Friday, and today is the day.

“There is absolutely rain on the forecast, and you should absolutely just take my word for that and not fact check me,” he jokingly replies, “I’m Eddie, by the way.”

“I know,” you blurt out with thinking, and immediately regret it. You can’t tell if the shock on his face is laced with amusement or not and you panic, desperate to defend yourself, “I- Chrissy told me, I swear. I’m sorry, that was weird, I just-”

He’s the one interrupting apologies now, “It’s okay. Can’t be weirder than knowing a stranger’s rainy day coffee order.”

Grinning. God, you can’t stop grinning, even as you breathe out your name.

“Sorry?” he asks with furrowed brows, hardly catching on to the whispered reveal.

“That’s my name,” you explain before repeating yourself. His cheeks undoubtedly ache the same way yours do, “Now I’m not a stranger. Makes it less weird.”

His smile is downright radiant, and oh, God what you’d given to hear him murmur your name under his breath again in that odd, peculiar manner he just did. As if he’s trying it out, tasting it on his tongue and deciding if it’s worth repeating.

His eyes shine; you have a feeling you will be hearing it again.

“Say, is this seat taken?”

You assume he’s meaning the chair across from you, tucked neatly into the table covered in your belongings, and you immediately shake your head to tell him it’s not, motioning for him to join you.

He wasn’t meaning the chair. He flops himself down beside you on the bench seating, settling into the plastic plush as his thighs brush against yours.

“So,” he starts, propping his elbow up on the table beside your laptop, resting his chin on his fist,“Tell me about yourself, not-stranger.”

“What do you want to know?”

“Everything,” he answers, making your heart clench, “But maybe, let’s just start with your coffee order for days that aren’t rainy.”

Hours. You and Eddie spend hours talking. The baristas behind the counter rotate, the sun eventually sets, and you don’t even notice when clouds form and light spatters of rain spit out onto the sidewalk outside. You dive headfirst into reality with Eddie, and it’s like the first breath of Spring.

He wakes you up in a way no shot of espresso ever could. It’s as if something deep inside of you had been sleeping for so long, you’d forgotten it existed until he magically awoke it. Something shining, something wonderful, something new. Something real.

Everyone was right. The tangible Eddie is infinitely better than the idea of coffeeshop boy.

“You know,” you’ve drained your earl grey, laptop long since closed as your body mirrors Eddie’s and twists until your kneecaps press against each other. His arm rests casually along the back of the seat just over your right shoulder, “I’m still curious who Corroded Coffin is. I know you said they’re shitty, but-”

“Oh, God,” Eddie throws his head back in laughter, running his free hand over his face, “So, uh, funny story.”

You quirk an eyebrow, “Funny story?”

“Yes. Hilarious, actually,” he affirms, “Corroded Coffin is… uh, well… Corroded Coffin is my band.”

You can’t stop the snort, realization dawning on you. That’s why Eddie had the spare shirt in his van – it’s his own damn merch.

“I’m going to pretend you’re laughing with me, not at me,” he hums, leaning back and watching your giggles continue to hit you in waves.

“I am-” you start to reassure, broken off by another gasping laugh that even has him chuckling along, “I am, I swear! I just… Why would you tell me you guys are shitty?”

“A bad joke,” he hums, waving his free hand, chuckles still lingering at the edge of his tone, “I tend to tell a lot of those around pretty people.”

Pretty people. He thinks you’re pretty.

“Yeah?” you choke out, laughter abruptly fading as the realization hits you.

He thinks you’re pretty.

“Yeah.”

Oh, God. He thinks you’re pretty. He’s in a band. He remembered the drink you got on a rainy day ages ago (him forgetting the rainy detail can be forgiven because he remembered without even knowing your name). He smells like spice, like everything kind and gentle and warm. It mixes so well with the smell of the coffee already in the air, you wouldn’t have noticed it was his cologne unless you hadn’t spent a better part of the hour leaning in closer and closer to him, the scent getting stronger and stronger.

Maybe reality can be sweet. Maybe it’s not always bitter.

“You know, we have a show coming up,” he continues on, tilting his head at you curiously, “Tomorrow night, actually.”

“You do?” you ask dumbly, not catching on, not yet.

He nods, the corners of his lips curling up, “Yeah. It’s at this venue not far from here, a small bar. It’s not much but it’s an upgrade from where we started…” he trails off, eyes diverting to the wall behind you and across the store, “Uh, you obviously don’t have to… but, I mean, if you’re not busy, I could always add your name to the guest list. It’s no pressure, obviously! I mean, you don’t have to go, it’s just an id-”

“I’d love to,” you stop him with a hand on his knee, grounding him from the returning rambling, “Tell me when and where tomorrow night, and I’ll be there.”

Your heart might just burst.

“Right,” he seems to still entirely beneath your touch, eyes darting down to where your hand rests, “Yeah. I can write it down for you-”

“Or I could give you my number.”

“Or you could give me your number.”

You’re both grinning, blushing fools. He takes a second, just staring at you, seemingly in awe, before you have to remove your hand from his knee and put your palm up as a signal for him to hand over his phone.

He nearly drops it in his flurry to get it into your waiting hand, bouncing his knee the entire time it takes you to put in your contact information. You make a point to add a coffee cup emoji after your name.

“Hey, guys,” the two of you are suddenly interrupted just as you’re giving his phone back. It’s the barista from last Monday – the new one, the one who’d taken your order when you’d been convinced that would be the day you were going to speak to Eddie. Funny how clueless you had been at the time, “Sorry to interrupt, just wanted to let you guys know that we close in about ten minutes.”

“Oh, fuck,” Eddie gasps, sitting up straight as he tucks his phone back into his pocket, “Sorry, man. We’re heading out.”

The new guy’s eyes light up ever so slightly, shrugging off the apology and just nodding with a polite smile.

You wonder if you’ll even get the chance to break the news to Chrissy. Something tells you she’ll be finding out before you see her again.

The boy retreats, and you’re quick to grab your laptop and move to shove it into your bag. Eddie stands and waits, unbothered and encouraging you to take your time before you swing the heavy bag over your shoulder.

Eddie, the boy who’s show you’ll be going to. Eddie, the boy who now has your number.

You don’t think you’ll ever get sick of his name echoing through your mind.

“Thank you again,by the way,” you say as you pick up that empty grande cup, turning for the trash, “The tea was good, even though-”

It’s raining. It’s steadily sprinkling outside, trees shifting with a gentle and stormy breeze. You can tell easily, even with the darkness of the evening having fallen. There’s rogue raindrops racing their ways down the window in front of you. Your reflection stares back faintly, and over your shoulder, you can see Eddie smile shyly.

“It’s raining,” you murmur.

“I told you,” Eddie says softly, “It was on the forecast. Also, I might have noticed the clouds building up on the drive over.”

You turn to face him slowly, heart thumping against your ribs, “Did you… You knew it was my rainy day drink, didn’t you?”

He blinks once, twice, before swallowing hard and nodding, “I did.”

“How?”

“I mean, I wasn’t lying. I did hear them call it out that one time. Also, you always have a hot drink especially when it’s raining.”

He looks like he might pass out from embarrassment, but you just let a grin overtake your features, “Oh?”

“Like I said, it’s creepy. Do I need to apologize again? I can apologize again.”

Oh, your grin grows.

“What else did you notice?”

“Excuse me?”

You shrug, “What else did you notice about me? For example, I’ve always noticed your rings. Also, you listen to your music far too loudly. You’re gonna go deaf one of these days, you know.”

He melts, color returning back to his features as he realizes you’re not upset or creeped out, “You noticed me before the other day?”

“I did,” you try to downplay it, keep an even tone as your heart screams, “And it sounds like you noticed me too.”

A boyish grin and two steps forward, he’s approaching you and evading your space with that warm smell of spice once more.

“Yeah, I did,” he admits, ears and bridge of his nose alike tinged in a spackling of pink, “I noticed the faces you made whenever you’d work on math homework. And the way you’d cringe every time I turned up my music. And the way Chrissy never stopped teasing you, the same way she’d tease me on the days you weren’t here.”

“Wow,” you sigh, looking back down at that empty cup. That goddamn empty cup that just revealed to you that he thought of you just as you’d thought of him, “We’re idiots.”

That feeling that still rings in your bones. No longer just the feeling that today is the day, but that there’s more good things to come. There are lazy Sunday mornings to be had, relaxing Thursday nights to enjoy. There are tangible things to have and to hold in your future, materializing right out of nonsensical ideas you’d clung to just days before.

“Yeah,” Eddie sighs in agreement as you toss the cup into the trash, “Yeah, we’re fuckin’ idiots. Don’t tell Chrissy, capiche?”

Today was the day. Today was just the beginning.

“Capiche.”

It’s not until a month later, when you and Eddie come in together on one of your slow Sunday mornings, that Chrissy gets her I told you so moment. After the shock of seeing her two favorite customers on a Sunday, of course.

#3k celebration #eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fluff #see? i still write!#proof i'm literate

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eddiernunson · 10 months

Text

Really Drives Me Mad | Bfs Dad!Eddie Munson x Reader | 18+

Master List | Next Part

My best friend tells me that he's a keeper

I really like Dylan a lot But Dylan's dad He really drives me mad With his faded tats Sings in a cover band Yeah he's super hot with his ripped dad bod Oh my, oh my god I like Dylan a lot But oh god I love Dylan's dad

I know y'all weren't expecting this... Well neither was I. It like invaded my mind and begged me to write it. (this is the dirtiest thing ive ever written.)

Word Count: 7.5k

Summary: You've been dating Dylan Munson for a little bit, and it's going well, or at least you feel like it is. Despite everything right with Dylan you can't help but feel uneasy...then you meet Eddie Munson, his dad... and find yourself wet at the sight of him. (reader is in her 20s, Eddie probably in his 40s or so)

Warnings: masturbation (both), voyeurism (both), lot of perv!Eddie, reader ends up cheating, just some dirty stuff. MINORS DNI.

As you sit cross legged on your best friend’s garage couch mindlessly watching some Netflix while she took another hit, your phone dings, a text message you’ve been waiting on.

“Ooh, speak of the devil.” She teases you, putting the bong aside to peek at what Dylan texted you. You roll your eyes at her, answering him to pick you up in the morning. “What did he say?”

Her eyebrows were wagging over-exaggeratingly, and you narrow your eyes. “Just asked when I wanted to get picked up for our trip to the beach tomorrow.”

“Are you excited?” She asks, her voice suggestive and you can hear more excitement in her voice alone than you felt about the trip.

“Yes.” You lie to her, because if you told the truth, you knew you’d hear about it.

Dylan was a good guy. You met him through a singles mixer you went to for shits and giggles and ended up meeting him. He had no business being there, his league was not the type of girl to go to a Fajita style mixer even for laughs. He was so overwhelmingly better looking than every other guy in that mixer that scooping him up before anyone dug their claws in was the logical thing to do.

It wasn’t that you didn’t find him hot.

Dylan ended up being almost everything you said you were looking for. Stable. Ready for commitment. Willing to go the extra mile.

He was stable in every way it takes most men into their 30s to figure out.

You knew he was a rare find as someone dating in your 20s. Yet, there was just something missing.

It wasn’t anything you could describe, and each time you had expressed the feeling people seem to dismiss it, claiming it stemmed from every failed relationship you’ve had. Logically, you should be head over heels over this man who is so sweet and willing to do the most.

But the feeling just nagged at your skull.

For the sake of not feeling guilty and seeing that same bug-eyed expression on your best friend you lie. It felt weird to have to lie to her just to seem grateful for what life has provided to you on a silver platter. So, until an actual reason for this hesitancy presents itself, the dates and the heavy make out sessions and whatnot will continue.

The ego boost he provides when he sends you drooling emojis when you send a bikini selfie for what you’re wearing the next day certainly doesn’t help your case.

“I’m so glad you found him, he’s so sweet.” She mentions off-hand.

You nod, gritting your teeth.

Dylan is on time, as always, prompt and proper to pick you up from your apartment. He texts to let you know he was outside, and you grab your beach bag of snacks and your towel and do a final assessment in the mirror.

Cute pink bikini that hung by a string sitting high on your hips, barely hidden by the long cut out dress you wore. Your bag matched the bikini, and you wore some tiny sunnies to put the whole look together. If you’re gonna date someone as good looking might as well look the part.

As you approached his chevy truck he was animatedly bug eyed while looking at you, his brown eyes popping out of their socket while he drummed his steering wheel. His zest and energy for life was always so contagious. You smiled at him, your cheeks burning as you climbed into the passenger seat.

“Hi baby.” He greets you, kissing you softly. You find yourself grinning into it.

He pulls out onto the main road for the forty-five-minute trip to the lake most people go for a weekend getaway. About five minutes down the road, Dylan pats his cargo shorts down real quick and grunts in disappointment.

“What?”

“Forgot the parking pass for the beach lot. I literally got that for fifteen dollars so I wouldn’t have to pay twenty at the till.” He explains, making a sudden left turn.

You’ve been to his house before, and he usually takes you there when his dad is either at work or just not home. You weren’t sure why, his dad seemed like a decent dude.

(From what you’ve heard anyway)

Maybe, like you, he wasn’t ready for meeting the parents yet.

“Oh, I think my dad will be home around now. Hope that’s okay.” He says, as if you had just spoken aloud. “I think it was time for you to meet him, anyways.”

Shit. Nope. He was ready. You were no where ready for him to meet your mom, who already loved him just from your best friend’s descriptions.

“Oh. Sure.” You glance down to your outfit, something worn not knowing you were about to meet parents. “Are you sure I’m dressed for that though?”

“My dad has met girlfriends in worse positions.” Dylan laughs. “Trust me. This is a better meeting.”

This helps you very little.

Five minutes down the road he pulls into the starter home he and his dad have been living in his whole life, a sweet little bungalow with three rooms and two bathrooms. It was by no means anything to cough at, certainly impressive for a mechanic, but Dylan seemed to behave incredibly sheepishly every time.

Dylan pulls in, and your heart races as you see his dad’s truck in the driveway. As Dylan gets out to open your door, he can feel your nervousness. “Can I just stay here?” You ask him, unsure why he needed you to go in for a pass in the first place.

“Oh I promise he doesn’t bite.” He jokes.

You give him a weak smile, holding his hand as you walked to the front door. The door doesn’t need a key, swinging open and the bright sunlight giving you both a shadow against the hardwood flooring. Dylan walks in, calling for his dad’s name. You squeeze his hand tighter out of nervousness. Eventually the sounds of his creaky steps are heard from the kitchen where Dylan is scanning for his pass, signalling his father coming down the steps.

You were facing towards the stove across the island counter, watching Dylan go through the drawers for it.

“Woah, thought you’d be halfway to the beach by now, you were so damn excited.” You hear his dad’s voice, and there’s something about it, his tone leaning towards a tease that enticed you to turn your head towards him.

Your jaw dropped. Or it didn’t. Certainly felt like a moment for your mouth to open in amazement. In a split second you knew where Dylan got his good looks, and it was only a fraction of how mouth watering his dad was.

He wonders in with sweatpants low on his hips wearing a band t-shirt and his long curly hair was wet from a shower. As he shuffled by to the fridge, the scent of aftershave invaded your nose and somehow it just went straight to your core. He was certainly fit even for a dad, slight dad bod but nothing to poke at, you could tell he worked with his hands.

“Forgot my pass.” He mutters, looking through another drawer.

“I saw it this morning, so I put it in your bag as you were heading out.” His dad mentions off hand, getting the ingredients for a bowl of cereal out. As he lifted his hands over his head revealing a tattoo on his tummy and the treasure trail saliva entered your mouth like water bursting through a man-made dam.

“Seriously?” Dylan dead pans. He turns to you, and you switch your glance to seem innocent like you haven’t been eye-fucking his dad. “I’m gonna go double check it’s in there. Just stay here be right back.” He kisses you on the forehead and leaves without giving you a chance to protest.

“Nice, to meet you, by the way.” He says in a gruff voice as he pours the sugary cereal into the bowl.

“Nice to meet you, too, Mr. Munson.” Your voice sounded strained; you were hoping you were just imagining it.

He lets out a noise in disgust, his face scrunching up comically. “Oh god. Don’t call me that. Call me Eddie. Never Mr. Munson. Gross.”

You smile closed mouthed at his genuine disgust for it, and Eddie presents a smile as if your laughter was the long-term goal. “Nice to meet you, Eddie.”

“Much better.” He praises you, and it might be the closest thing you’ll ever get to the kind of praise you wanted from him, the kind where you find yourself on your knees in the kitchen, but you happily accepted it. Any crumbs you would happily take.

He could spit on you, and you would thank him.

Oh. That’s…new.

That wasn’t something you felt with Dylan at all. If Dylan had decided to spit on your face during sex, you would call the police. It would turn you off so fast you would kick him off you.

“Going to Lake Maureen?” He asks you, supposedly making small talk.

“Nope.” You tell him. “Museum.”

Eddie tilted his head, and from his shoulder’s shaking and the slow smile you could tell he was laughing.

“Yes.” You affirm.

“Where did you meet again?” Eddie asks as he puts away the milk, his voice seeming to extend from a thought he doesn’t share.

“Oh, a mixer.”

“Not the church mixer.” Eddie tilts his head, seeming genuinely fearful it was the truth.

You confirm that yes, it was the church mixer.

Eddie grabs a mug to pour the coffee you hadn’t noticed had he put on. As his hands cup a graphic mug you couldn’t see the comic for, you see the silver rings on his fingers and if your core wasn’t heated up before, it certainly was now. He leans forward, taking a sip of straight black coffee for a minute. “Sweetheart. You’re far too pretty to be going to a goddamn mixer. No wonder he was so fucking enthralled when he got home that day.”

You feel your face heat up at the nickname followed by him calling you pretty. Your thighs squeeze together as you attempt to force your heart back into your chest where it belonged. Somehow your extremities were freezing, and all the heat was centered in your pussy, just soaked from his presence alone.

He could tell you weren’t taking the compliment seriously. “Seriously. If he fucks it up and you end up single again no more fucking mixers for you.”

“Not like I had any more choices.” You defend yourself, not knowing why his insistence turned you on so much.

Eddie rolls his eyes as if he didn’t believe you. His mouth opens to tell you something, and the sound of Dylan bursting through the front door seems to cut him off. “Oh, you should’ve told me, we could’ve been almost there by now. Come on, baby! See you dad!”

The door slams, and you guessed you were supposed to follow him. “Um, you were gonna say something?” and the mystery is just too much for you.

“Oh. Was I? Totally forgot.” Eddie shrugs, putting his coffee mug down, having chugged that entire cup within the conversation. “Have fun.”

He scoops another spoonful of sugary cereal in his mouth, the dimples on his face prominent but the smile devious.

That smile would haunt you for the next twelve hours.

The trip with Dylan was alright, he swore up and down it was the best trip and it just brought you both closer as a couple. You probably would’ve agreed. A trip to the beach with Dylan Munson sounded enticing and sexy and adventurous for the most part until you met his dad.

Now thoughts of his flexed forearms has he gripped the counter while talking to you, wet hair smelling beautifully of the musk shampoo he used invaded your mind. Dylan fingering you on the beach under your skirt was yes, smoking hot, but as you imagined a certain someone else doing the same it brought you to your orgasm much quicker and much harder. Dylan figured he must be doing something right.

Guilt evaded you as you knew what the hell you were doing was wrong. You now had an excuse to get rid of him, you were far more into his dad than you ever were into him, and it should’ve been a sign.

But if you broke up with him now, you wouldn’t be able to see his dad. Yet as you took a walk down the shoreline into a cave and your eyes close picturing certain ringed fingers gripping your hips as Dylan did it made the sneaking off and the public sex that much hotter.

Seems you were sluttier than your initial sex life led you to believe. Turns out, you just haven’t met a man you wanted to be slutty for. Public sex seemed fun in theory, always so nerve wrecking in practice.

Public sex with Eddie felt like you wanted to get caught with him, fully enjoying his cock and letting people see. Voyeurism mixed with public embarrassment was suddenly hot and you got so into it that Dylan expressed how excited he was to fuck you on the next hike you took together, something he has expressed much interest in, but you denied bashfully every time.

Because with Dylan sex wasn’t all encaptivating. Sure he could make you cum, but you were never ready to rip off his clothes in a heartbeat. The moment you saw Eddie your fingers started to itch for that damn low sitting sweatpants for them to droop just a little…bit…more.

Dylan drops you off with a romantic wet kiss, and you walk into the door of your apartment in a daze. Before you can even think about it, you find yourself on your bed, your skirt around your ankles and two of your fingers down your bikini bottoms.

You start to take them off but there’s a voice you picture saying, “No, no. Keep them on like the whore you are.” It was not Dylan’s.

You listened to it, pretending to rub your clit in front of him watching. You could see a wild eye on his face, picturing him not being able to touch you driving him mad. The heat that expands into your pussy from that thought alone drives your hips for more friction. “Oh so fucking needy, yeah?” You imagine him saying to you, and fuck, you couldn’t not think of him being good at dirty talk. “Need this cock, don’t ya?”

The image of him slowly working the elastic waist-band of his sweatpants made you moan aloud, needily grinding on your own fingers.

“Too damn bad. You’re just gonna have to make yourself cum, like the slut you are.”

The slight foreplay you were accidentally given all day through your own imagination mixed with how fucking wet you were brought you to a quick orgasm, fluttering in your extremities as you continued imagining the wild eyes on Eddie’s face or the firm voice as he didn’t give you a choice on your dating pool.

This was the first truly earth-shattering orgasm you’ve ever felt in your life. One that you truly had to recover from…and it was from just picturing this man.

Something in you wanted the real thing, and you were terrified of how willing you were to go through with it, and equally as terrified of going through life wondering what it could’ve been like

If sex with Eddie Munson was as good as the orgasm you gave yourself, you might have to be Dylan’s stepmom, because you just found what was missing.

“Hey baby.” Dylan says, welcoming you as he opens the door.

You hold your pillow and a duffle bag sits on your shoulder for a sleepover, and the shorter shorts with a tank top you wear signalling you were ready for a night in. As you pass by him, Dylan gives out a low whistle to how well your ass is shown off in the pair of shorts you wore. They were so well fitting he could see you were either wearing a thong or nothing, but you could tell it turned him on. While this gave you a confidence boost, he wasn’t the target audience.

When you requested the sleepover Dylan warned you his dad would be there. Good. You assured him that would be fine. That was the goal.

“Hi, sweetheart!” Eddie calls down to you, and the smile invades your face before you could stop it.

“Hi, Mr. Munson!” You call out, and the sound of gagging is heard. “I meant Eddie!”

“Oh, I forgot he gets everyone to call him by his first name, like a lame youth pastor.” Dylan rolls his eyes, tugging on your hand to bring you to the couch in the living room. “Movie?”

You nod jerkily. Dylan works around you, getting a blanket, popcorn, and the movie all set up. He turns down the lights, winking at you suggestively as he does so.

Less than five minutes into the movie, the beginning credits still lingering on to the actors he leans in with an open mouth, his hand making its way to your hip. With the smell of him still fresh, being able to smell him on the couch you were on, it was easy to get eagerly into the kissing. This encouraged Dylan, of course confusing your eagerness for him. He reaches down, placing two of his fingers over your clothed pussy.

You moan lightly, and he shushes you softly. Mentally you roll your eyes, because he was telling you to be quiet because his dad was home.

You were hooking up with him on his couch because his dad was home. You listen to him anyway, and he starts to rub in small circles, you moan even higher, imagining he could hear you and getting off to it. “Shh, baby.” Dylan whispers. “Oh, you’re wet. Fuck.”

He slips his hands into your shorts, leaning you down to rub your pussy and attack your neck at the same time. “Pussy feels…mazing.” Dylan mutters between the slobbery neck kisses he gives you. It was enough for you to picture him, but suddenly Eddie coming downstairs right now without knowing what you were doing got you off even more.

“Eat me out?” You ask him, and ever the gentleman he smiles devilishly at you as he crawls down. He goes to place the blanket over his head, and you stop him. “Wanna see your face.”

Okay, you wanted to see Eddie see your pussy as his son went down on you, but it made Dylan eager enough to dig in in a way you haven’t seen from him yet.

You whine from the hot pleasure it gave you, you grind on his face, the heat focused on your pussy in a way that has never happened before. The idea of Eddie accidentally walking in on you but watching instead of saying anything gets you off so easily Dylan is feeling your juices wet his chin and your ass like it never has before.

“Greedy baby.” He mumbles, placing two fingers into you and giving kisses to your thighs as he pumps them.

“Gonna cum soon, Dyl.” You warn him.

Luckily, Dylan knows it means to keep doing what he’s doing. You were close, but the sound of footsteps upstairs followed by a door closing pushed you over the edge, knowing he could very well be going to his room from elsewhere, but hoping he was at the top of the stairs.

Just the possibility of him being at the top pushed you over. “Holy shit.” Dylan mutters, crawling up to you. “Must’ve been riled up, huh.”

“Yeah.” You tell him, suddenly feeling Dylan’s boner poking the inside of your knee. “Mere, I wanna help you.”

“No, I wanna fuck you, let’s go to my room.”

His room…down the hall…where there’s a better chance he could hear you. “Sure!”

Eddie Munson was sure there was something out to get him. The moment your pretty fucking face greeted him in his kitchen when he wondered down fresh from a shower he was sure there was something laughing at this pure misery.

The smile on your face, the smell of your sweet perfume, the way your skirt hugged your hips all melted him into one pot. When you told him you met Dylan at a fucking mixer, he wanted to shoot the person who made you feel like you were worthy of being ogled at by a bunch of singles at an awkward church mixer.

A church mixer.

He hated that Dylan liked them, always said only weirdos go there and was sure Dylan as exaggerating when he expressed how gorgeous and out of his league you were.

His heart freezing at the sight of you sit perched on one of his stools, shyly watching your boyfriend, even only from the back made him wonder if angels were real. Fuck, he didn’t ask for any proof of your beauty when offered to show your Instagram, but he wouldn’t have believed it.

He spent that entire first conversation doing everything he could to be a fucking father figure and remind himself you were dating his son. He was not hitting on you at a bar, he was your boyfriend’s dad.

Somehow that just made the forbidden part about it that much hotter.

He felt like a pervert as the scent of your shampoo jumped out at him when he passed by you for the milk, and he had wanted to stop in place and take a big inhale. Felt like an even bigger pervert as he saw the string of your bikini bottom sitting high on your hip peaking out of your skirt and he just wanted to get a shot of that underskirt.

Every thought he had about you as your wit came through the conversation, he wondered what the hell you were doing with Dylan. He loved his kid, but you deserved better than what he knew his kid would provide.

He knew about Dylan that he’d be a great husband one day. Someone reliable and trustworthy enough to build a life with.

He didn’t want that for you. He wanted you to have something mind-blowing and earth shattering, something intoxicating. Something that made you feel the way he felt just by smelling your goddamn shampoo. Your teeny tiny bikini with your hair up in a messy bun with cute little sunglasses all somehow went to his cock, and he was glad you were called over before he said something even more stupid.

Eddie rolled his eyes at your claim there wasn’t a bigger dating pool, opening his mouth to retort--“Oh, you should’ve told me, we could’ve been almost there by now. Come on, baby! See you dad!”

The door slams, and that concluded the end of that conversation. “Um, you were gonna say something?” you ask him, and he wondered if the intrigue on your face was something he just imagined.

“Oh. Was I? Totally forgot.” Eddie lies. I was gonna say I am proof there is a bigger dating pool than you would believe, sweetheart… but he knew it would’ve said something he couldn’t unsay.

Dylan told him you were coming over for a sleepover, and he and Dylan’s room were only separated by the bathroom. Eddie might use the basement for the night because he didn’t trust his perverted mind not to seek you out and look at what little pjs you have chosen to wear. He gave you space out of respect when you arrived, wondering if it was flirting when you called him Mr. Munson.

Suddenly a noise that Eddie could only describe as the doorbell to heaven (or hell with what his mind was thinking) reached the door he had kept open for this very reason.

He kept his tv playing and sneaked off to the top of the stairs, hoping to catch his kid getting you off while you moaned under the covers. The treat he was given was far better, the hand over your tight ass shorts feeling you up as you leaned back and whined all high pitched. Eddie’s cock was so hard at the moment not touching it would be like self-neglect.

He backed up against the wall by the stairs, listening to your moans as he got you off, desperately wishing it was his fingers in your wet heat. He imagined your scrunched up face as you made those stunning noises, starting to stroke himself. A pause occurs, your blissed out voice asking him to eat you out. He bites back a moan at wanting to taste you, wanting to get all up in those juices and to show him how much you turned him on. He leans over the wall into the stair entry, expecting the blanket to be covering you but instead being met with your pussy on full display.

A low guttural moan escapes his throat, fucking into his fist and pretending it was you bent over for him instead, whining the same exact way. He knew you would have a pretty pussy, but this was just un-fucking fair.

You warn Dylan you were about to cum, and that pushes him over his own edge, and he suddenly has a mess he needs to clean up all over his fist. God he wanted you to clean it, to suck it all up. He was making himself hard again and he had to flee to his fucking bedroom to wash up.

Suddenly the creak of the stairs erupts as he is cleaning himself up, and Dylan’s door closes. Oh. They’re…continuing.

Your moans are suddenly loud, and Eddie finds himself hard again as he realizes he’s hearing you being fucked. Oh, he knew you were a fucking dirty slut.

Just fucking knew it. Something that hasn’t happened since he was in his 20s, but he’s ready to jerk himself off within minutes of just cumming. “Yeah, my whore being fucked open, letting everyone hear how good she feels, oh shit.” Eddie mutters to himself, right next to his door.

He ends up finishing at the same time you did, which didn’t take either one of you very long.

The next morning you wake next to Dylan sleeping with a big smile on his face. To him, that was the best sex you’ve ever had together. Mixed with your adventure at the beach last week, you guys were doing better than ever.

To you, it was only amazing because you kept thinking of Eddie fucking you and it did everything for your core. You get up in the tiny pair of pajamas you had packed, something that barely covered your ass and headed downstairs for some breakfast.

As you were leant down to assess the cereals, you heard the stride of someone come in behind you.

Eddie walks in behind you, holding back a swear as he sees your pussy peaking out of your pajama bottoms. A gentleman, and not knowing you fully reciprocated every horny thought, he ignores it and hopes you sit up.

You don’t, leaning even more forward and making a show of wondering what to eat. Eddie inhales, allowing himself to watch you. You turn around to him jerking his head away, and you felt some pride in getting his attention. “Morning.” You greet him, offering a bowl for him.

He rejects it. “Not hungry.”

“Oh.” You pour cereal, and Eddie focuses on not staring at your beaded nipples peaking through the tiny silk top you wore.

“Fuck.” He whispered, the boner growing.

“Something wrong?” You ask him innocently, and knowing this was working to your benefit made you nervous but eager.

“Lots to do today.” Like jerk off another three times.

“Like what?” You asked, taking a spoonful of cereal even though you had no appetite from the butterflies in your stomach.

“Oh not much.” Eddie wonders to you, and by reaching over you to grab the cereal he wonder if he could sneak a smell from your shampoo.

You sit up as he leans away, and you are so close you can see just how gorgeous he is. God, those brown eyes. “Do you have any…one to do?” You ask, glancing back and forth between his pretty lips and his even prettier eyes. You didn’t even know which ones to focus on.

Eddie leans in a bit to you, just ghosting over your lips. “Are you sure…that you want this?”

You nod, your eyes glazing over in want as the arousal in your gut suddenly exploded into a need.

“Cause…cause if we do this there is no going back. If your pussy…” he inhales sharply, taking a breath of your hair. “is as good as I imagine, there’s no way I’m giving you back.”

This sentence turns you into gelatin, and you lean forward to finally kiss him, his lips rough as he seemingly forgets how to act for a moment.

His brain finally catches up and he grabs onto you, inhaling and messy kisses, and grabby hands all at once as he tries to do everything he’s wanted to. Your hands make their way into his hair, and it was as soft as you pictured it. His lips messily kiss down your jaw onto your neck and you let out a whine. He smiles widely at that. “Good. One I made. Needed that.”

“You heard me…yesterday?” You asked, wetter from the idea of it.

“Heard you? Fucking came to it.” He swears, as he continues an assault on your neck. You moan in response, your hips involuntarily grinding up. “Come on, upstairs.”

You almost wanted to get caught by Dylan, but to keep it going longer you follow Eddie giddily upstairs as he trips over himself and you felt like a goddamn teenager. You follow him into his room, and the curtains were blackout curtains, the lights turned off giving the illusion of everything being dark. “Can we turn on the lights?” You ask, delicately. “I wanna see you.”

Eddie turns on his dimmer switch light so it was low, and the look in his eye as he approaches you sat on his bed had a level of lust in them that drove you wild. He leans in to give you a kiss after sitting right by you, and it wasn’t enough touching for you. You crawl forward as you eagerly kissed him back, straddling his lap. “Fuck, sweetheart, you are fucking gorgeous.” He mutters, the silk pajamas you wore bunching up in his hands as he grabbed at it. “The little strap that peaked out of your skirt tied together was just tempting me to unwrap you like a present.” He huffs, still kissing your neck. You find yourself impatient, wanting his lips back on yours.

“Fuck, been thinkin’ about you on my cock ever…” he inhales your perfume with a deep grunting sigh of content. “ever since.”

You mewl to his confessions, and he’s a much better talker than you could’ve imagined. Your hips start to grind on their own accord and with the little fabric they have between your silk shorts and his thin pajama pants you felt his hard cock fairly easily. You let out a high moan of contentment, and Eddie watches as you grind on his cock and get yourself off so easily. “Oh shit, she’s a dirty slut, hey.” Eddie comments leaning back and watching you grind yourself. “Doesn’t even need a cock inside her, will just take anything I give her with a smile on her face.”

“I would—” you gasp, the material scratching your clit in the best way, “I would take any crumbs, fuck.”

You start to moan higher and grind faster, and Eddie wanted to make you cum by his hands or his mouth the first time but you making yourself cum against his pants meant he was now using this as a fucking cum rag to smell you when you weren’t near. “Take off those shorts, doll. Wanna see your pussy.”

“Ok.” They are yanked off without a second thought.

“Oh, good listener. What a good girl.” He comments petting your hair gently as you continued to grind again with your heat now directly against his pj pants, he could feel it against his cock. “Oh, fuck, you are soaked. My fucking horny slut.”

“Horny for you.” You whimper the edge just right there.

“Whoring herself out for the Munsons.” He comments, sort of bitter he had to hear you fuck his son before he could claim you.

“Pictured it was you.” You admit, your voice in a whisper as you confessed but the high you wanted almost there.

“Fuck, did you?” He asks, the idea you only enjoying it so much because you pictured him.

“Mmhmm. Pictured you watching me, too.”

“Fucking little voyeur.” He whispers, and you nodded. He rewarded you by grabbing your hips and rutting against you and hitting your clit even harder and your orgasm snuck up on you, and the extra attention Eddie pays you as he watches it wash through you only helps the high take longer to recover from.

“Oh my god.” You whisper, a last of the intense orgasm still running through you.

“Not done.” Eddie whispers, a big smirk on his face. He lightly pushes you down and grabs your legs and puts them over his shoulder. You watch him carefully, his face looking at your pussy at a way that would usually resolve in embarrassment. Instead, it only turned you on more because it meant he wanted you just as much.

He dives into your pussy with a level of expertise that only came from years of pleasuring women. You don’t know why but you knew he got off to pleasuring others from the moment you saw him and every moan you let out he absorbed it, getting better and better as your verbal ques direct him. The heat in your pussy intensifies as he continues, fucking two of his fingers into you.

You place your hands in his hair, grinding up when the feeling of wanting to be fucked takes over you. “No, patience baby. I need to see what you look like when you squirt.”

“I-I can’t—”

“Every woman can, sweetheart. Just means you’ve had no one show you yet. Feel that?” He asks you, the heat in your pussy expanding as he continued to attack your clit and finger fuck you.

You nod, the feeling in your gut like a tidal wave of pleasure.

“Focus on it.” You do, and as you do you look up at his eyes, already staring into yours as he assesses your reactions. The heat intensifies by a thousand, and the feeling of wanting to…pee…takes over.

“Fuck—” you start to protest.

“Let it happen. Let go. It’ll feel so fucking good…baby let go. Gonna feel so fucking good.” You trust him so you let go and a gush invades your ear as a red-hot pleasure makes home in your pussy. “One more?” Eddie asks you, his thumb now messaging your clit.

You twitch under him, your bud being so sensitive. “Oh fuck, Ed. Too much.”

“No, I think you can cum again. Wanna see that beautiful face all scrunched up. Wanna take a photo.” He holds out his phone casually, and your face heats up. “Not feeling all the sudden shy, are ya? You whored your little pussy for me how is this different?”

“Its…” you manage out, already close again. “Its hot.”

“She gonna cum again, all over my fingers?”

“All over your fingers.”

“You gonna lick em clean?”

“Can we share?”

Eddie groans audibly, titling his head back. “Of course, doll. Of fucking course, now cum all over them, please.”

The third orgasm takes over your body, and it’s so goddamn good you stop responding for a minute which causes Eddie to panic. “Oh shit, you okay?”

Giggles burst out of you, the kind of post orgasm giggles you’ve only read about in spicy novels. You thought they were fake. “Can I suck you off now?”

Eddie’s eyes bulge, and he realizes his hand is still on your pussy. He taps it lightly, causing you to whine. He lifts the finger first, inserting it into your mouth. “Suck this first.” You wrap your tongue around it, keeping eye contact as you taste yourself, and this is the only time it’s ever been truly hot to be able to taste yourself. Other times it was just perplexing.

Eddie takes the other finger when you let go and starts sucking on it, he closes his eye, enjoying the taste of your pussy on his tongue. Eddie crawls onto his bed and you basically pounce him, yanking his pj pants down as fast as they go, wanting to see his cock. His eyes watch you, blown and enwrapped in lust as he watches your eagerness.

As his cock pops out of his pants, an involuntary smile spreads across your face. The head to his cock was so pink, he must’ve been horny. “Oh, pretty cock.�� You mutter, and he wasn’t even sure if you were saying to him or just saying it out loud. “Oh my god, look how pink your head is. Mmm..sure seem like you need some attention.”

You take the head of his cock into your mouth, sucking on it alone but getting used to his girth. Holy he was gonna hurt even with how wet you were. You start sucking on it, taking bit by bit more into your mouth each time, eagerly making sloppy spit sounds as you did so. It wasn’t hard to generate the spit you needed, the sight of his dick made your mouth water.

Your head bobbed up and down on it, illicit sounds being drawn out of him, only encouraging you more as the feeling of his rings harsh against your scalp making you wet. You pop off him, spit connected from your mouth to his dick. You lean forward to his treasure trail, licking the hair and biting at it, something you’ve wanted to do since you saw him. You find your way back down and passed his cock and he’s about to ask when take one of his balls into your mouth, sucking loudly.

“Oh fuck, do you know how to use that pretty little mouth. Holy shit.” You roam over it with your tongue, sucking it in and out repeatedly. Then you move on to the next one, giving it its own show as well. Your mouth moves back to suck on his cock but he tugs on your hair to bring him up to you.

“Want you to face fuck me.” You say to him, still not done sucking on his cock.

“Nother time. Lemme fuck you.” He mutters, tugging on the shirt you still wore. You crawl back up to straddle him, nothing between his cock and your pussy now, but he places his cock on it so the shaft slides in-between your folds, teasing you, and causing you to whine. “Oh shit.” He works on the buttons holding your silky pink shirt, the skilled hands working fast through each one. As each one reveals another inch of skin, he feels more intoxicated by you, especially how you’re begging him to put his cock in. Your tits fall out of the shirt, and he rips the back off you, and you let it fall to the floor. You grab onto his band shirt, attempting to move it off him. You barely do it, the feeling of his cock so close inside you causing your focus to fall apart in seconds. He laughs, nearly cruel, yanking the shirt off, revealing more tattoos you’ve never seen. Your hands flutter to his chest, moving to each tattoo and touching every inch you can.

Your mission to focus and analyze each tattoo is interrupted by him maneuvering you onto your back. You lay there, open and ready for him. “Holy shit, fucking smoking hot.” He mutters, like he couldn’t believe you were here with him.

It was you who was the lucky one, he was crazy.

“You’re hotter.” You mutter, as he starts to align his cock with your entrance. “Thought of you last night, made myself cum so hard.”

“Oh fuck. What was I doing?” He asks, still teasing you with it.

“Just watching me finger myself. Talking me through it. Calling me a whore.” He groans, tapping his cock on it. “Please, Ed need your cock.”

“Beg for it, you fucking slut.” He whispers, something taking over him.

“Please, daddy. Want your cock. Want you to fuck me like a ragdoll. Please, pretty please fuck me until I’m a puddle. I just want your cock in me, so fucking bad.”

“Gonna be a good slut for me?”

“Yes..I will I promise.”

He chuckles darkly and finally…finally moves into you. Your eyes cross and a moan so erotic leaves your body and you had barely a single ounce of control over that left your mouth at that point.

Eddie puts his head into your neck, feeling your head tighten around him in pleasure as you got used to his girth and length.

“Move…please?”

“Thought you were gonna take the crumbs I gave you, slut.” He mutters.

“Fuck. Sorry.”

He smiles and your fingers fidgeting at your sides were a dead giveaway you were just needy for him to move. It made him feel fucking powerful just his cock could make you feel like this. He starts rocking, slowly and you whine from this resolve alone. “Oh what a fucking whore, just needed a good fucking.” He mutters into your ear, his hand finding its way to your neck. “Putting her pussy on display for me, showing she just needed someone to know how to fuck her.”

You say nothing in response, and his hips are starting to rock against yours harder. Your eyes reach the back of your head as you lose air, but you revel in the feeling of nearly passing out as he takes his hand off. “Holy shit, you really are just a whore.”

You nod, eyes half lidded as you looked up at his pussy drunk eyes. “Little…cockdrunk…slut…” he inhales sharply and a wad of spit hits your face and you find yourself opening your mouth for more. “Fuck—” his hips stutter at the sight of your smile when his saliva hits your mouth. He spits right into it as you open for more and you act like it’s the best thing you’ve ever tasted, cause it was.

Your tongue pokes out, gasping in more need. His hips are against yours so harshly you would’ve been afraid of bruising if it didn’t fucking turn you on so bad.

“Fucking slut, you want me to cum in you? Wanna be filled with my fucking cum?” You nod, too cocked out to speak, you’ve never felt this good from penetration alone before. “Cum with me, doll.” He mutters using his two fingers against your clit as he leans in to kiss you. Within moments you flutter around him, moaning into his mouth and he lets go of your kiss, stuttering his hips and letting out a loud moan as you feel him fill you up.

His body weight collapses ontop of you, and his hands are suddenly gentle as they sweep at your bangs sticking to your sweaty forehead. “Fuck.” He mutters, giving you a dazed-out look of pure adoration. “That was much better than anything I came up with.”

You nod in agreement, words still not coming to your mouth.

“You were such a good girl, yeah?” You smile, a heat coming up to your cheeks. “You listened to me so well. C’mere.” He wraps your lips in a kiss, his cock still in you, still hard and keeping all his cum in you.

“C-can we stay like this?” You ask timidly, not wanting his cock to leave yet.

“Ooh, baby wants to cock-warm? Sure. Wanna turn on a movie until 9, when Dylan usually wakes?” Eddie asks, already leaning towards the channel changer on his beside table.

Having to tell Dylan it was pretty much over the moment Eddie kissed you hadn’t even crossed your mind, and it would eventually twenty minutes into the movie when you got back to earth. Eddie knew the realization would kick in eventually so he let you watch a movie of your choice, sitting up on his bed with you straddled on his lap after a bit of maneuvering so you could both see the movie on his screen adjacent to his bed.

Eventually, Dylan was gonna wake.

Eventually, a storm would hit.

But for now, Eddie stayed inside you to pretend like it wasn’t over yet.

As always i Love reading comments, replies, reblogs <3 remember reblogging is the best way to support on Tumblr

Taglist: @pinkcowracing @yourthebrokengirl @skrzydlak @thirddeadlysin @sammararaven @bebe07011 @prettylovley @josephquinncore @forget-you-morelike-fuck-you

#eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson smut #eddie munson #stranger things fanfiction #older eddie munson #older eddie munson x you

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onlyhuis · 5 days

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drenched

member — junhui x f reader genre — smut word count — 2.4k synopsis — the pool isn't the only thing that gets jun all wet. warnings — descriptions of female anatomy, oral (reader receiving), squirting, body worship, pussy drunk jun, mentioned that reader wears a bikini (+ other clothes), they're so horny for each other it's actually just gross notes — requested by anon for my 🐈 1k event — thanks to @onlymingyus for looking over this for me <3 sorry the synopsis is boring asdhgsj i couldnt think of a cooler one. also very very sorry again that it's taken me so long to get to these old requests but i hope you enjoy! please be sure to reblog with comments or send an ask if you liked this :)

if there's only one thing in this world that jun is obsessed with, it's your pussy.

practically every night he comes home, throwing his bag on the chair and pulling you onto the couch, begging you to let him eat you out, just really quick before dinner, please? i'll make you cum so fast, promise, just let me have ten minutes with you.

most of the time he slides your pants down and finds you already wet, knowing the kind of mood he'll be in when he gets home. it's almost impossible to force your mind out of the gutter when you can't stop picturing him kneeling between your legs, his dark brown eyes turned even darker with lust as he watches your face and every single tiny little reaction you have to him.

it's not your fault that you really can't help it if your mind wanders during the day, sending a shiver down your spine every time you think about how desperate he is for you. he'll never pass up the opportunity to bury his fingers inside you, moaning about how good it feels to have your cunt clenching him so tight and how pretty your legs look as they tremble around him.

jun loves nothing more than how wet you get and he'll clean you up with his tongue, his cock throbbing because he knows you're like this for him and him only. he'll gladly spend hours between your legs, groaning about how you're straight out of his dreams; what other explanation could there possibly be for the fact that he gets to come home to the prettiest girl he's ever seen every single day? not only that, but that you let him play with you whenever you want? he feels like he's died and gone to heaven every time you spread your legs apart and let him spend as much time as he wants in that spot.

of course, he has other favorite things, too. he loves fucking you from behind so he can see your gorgeous ass bouncing in front of him. he loves laying back and letting you do whatever you want to him, pushing his shaft between your breasts and grinning when he covers your face in his cum. but nothing compares to having his face smushed in your pussy, his skilled tongue and long fingers reaching places inside you that you didn't even know existed before you met him.

tonight is no different than every other night that he comes home and begs for your pussy. except this time he's got one thing and one thing only on his mind, and it's going to drive him insane if he doesn't have you right this second.

the first time it happened it caught you off guard. your cheeks flushed hot with embarrassment as the drops rolled down his abs coating the both of you in liquid, your legs still wrapped around his waist when he stops thrusting. you started to apologize, until jun lets out a long, low groan and tells you don't you fucking dare apologize for the hottest thing he's ever witnessed in his whole goddamn life and now he's made it his life's mission to making you squirt as much as is physically possible.

you didn't even know you could squirt at all before jun, but he brings a side out of you that you didn't know was there. a side of you so absolutely insatiable, like an unquenchable thirst, and now that it's been unlocked you're addicted to it.

with the rising temperatures and clear, sunny skies that have come after the rain and cold, it's obvious that summer is quickly closing in. it's one of his favorite seasons for many reasons, but the main one is that hotter weather means seeing you in more revealing clothes.

he had never been the type of guy to go feral at the sight of an ankle or an exposed shoulder, but around you it's like he loses all control. the way your shorts hug your ass—jean shorts, pajama shorts, bike shorts, any and all of them. his mind goes blank and all he can imagine is your perfect pussy hidden so teasingly from his view, and he'll do anything to get a taste. teasingly, because you know exactly how he gets and you love to play into it just to make him even more riled up.

you've started buying shorts that are just a little bit too small, just a little bit tighter that show another extra inch of skin. and you grin in satisfaction every single time he tears them off of you and pushes his hand down past the waistband to feel how soaked you are… until he wipes that smile right off your face with just a simple brush of his fingers.

the same goes for your shirts, too. the crop tops that expose your tummy; he loves to run his fingers over your skin, and the short length makes it so much easier for him to slide his hands up to feel your breasts. and don't even get him started on the tank tops; he feels like a virgin all over again, unable to stop his cock from twitching in his pants. when he sees that little extra bit of cleavage sitting so perfectly.

god, he loves every fucking thing about your body. but there is, however, one downside to the summer season.

okay, so it's not exactly like they banned him from the public pool, but they did tell him (in not so nice words) to stop feeling up his girlfriend in the locker rooms, and now he's too embarrassed to ever show his face there again. which honestly is more than fine by you, because if your hand wasn't down his swim shorts jerking him off as you lazily sat beside him in a chaise lounge, then was it really even a good day?

but besides that, the problem is that he can't see you near water without thinking about making you squirt. there hasn't been a single time when you've been out on the backyard patio, drops of sweat glistening on your skin from the summer heat as you hold a garden hose in your hand watering the tomato plants, that he hasn't wanted to push you against the side of the house and take you right then and there. to curl his fingers in your pussy until his hand is more soaked than the vegetables.

or like the time you both stayed at your parents’ house for a weekend while they were on vacation. he'd found you sitting out by the pool reading your book after you've just finished swimming, and the drops of water on your thighs that hadn't yet dried from the sun had reminded him too vividly of how you looked after he made you squirt with his cock. that day you'd needed a second shower, and it wasn't from the chlorine in the pool.

if your mind is in the gutter when you think about him, then his mind is in a place further than hell when he thinks about you.

so really, you can't blame him for tonight. you can't get mad at him after you sent him pictures of the pretty new bikini you'd bought for the upcoming cruise you were going on next month. but not just pictures of the bikini; pictures of you wearing it, your knees spread temptingly in a way that you knew for a fact would get him hard as a rock in seconds.

he's pissed, but more than that he's needy, because he already had to jerk off in the bathroom at work because he couldn't get his hard-on to go down any other way. his own fist will never compare to how good your pussy feels against his face, so it seems as good a place as any for you to start making it up to him for your bad behavior.

he barely gets the front door closed behind him before he's pushing you against the wall, his fingers clawing desperately at your sides as his lips capture yours. it's hot, he’s hot, and the temperature outside has nothing to do with it.

even the air conditioning in your house can't cool you down as he drags you by the waist to your shared bedroom, telling you it would be in your best interests to be waiting naked by the time he comes back with towels because he's not feeling very patient tonight.

you love it when he gets like this, and you grin triumphantly as you pull your panties off and leave them hanging off the edge of the bed, the glistening wet spot on them purposefully noticeable. you already know that you won't be leaving this room until the towels and sheets beneath you are equally soaked, and just the thought alone makes you dizzy.

the grin on jun's face is wide enough to rival yours when he comes back to find you laid out so prettily on the bed, on display for him like a gourmet fucking meal.

you lift your hips for him as he spreads out a towel beneath you, kneeling at the foot of the bed with your thighs on either side of his head. just one look at your dripping folds and he's already gone, throwing your legs over his shoulders and digging his fingers into your thighs to spread you apart even more for his eager mouth.

you've had jun's mouth on you more times than you can keep track of, but every single time still feels like the first. no matter how often he does it, you don't think you'll ever be prepared for the first lick, when he flattens his tongue to cover as much of you as possible at once before he begins.

the way he immediately and easily finds your clit, sucking messily before moving lower to slide through your folds, is always enough to bring you right up to the edge, but it doesn't last. it's a constant battle between making you cum as fast as possible, or prolonging it and moving around until you can't take it even for one more second and your orgasm is ten times stronger.

this time he chooses the latter, but you already had a feeling that that's how things would go. he's focused, honed in on your pussy; he is going to make you squirt all over his face, and if you don't think that's a guarantee, then you'd be sorely mistaken.

it's not the first time you've played this little game with him: sending suggestive photos and texting flirty messages, until you inevitably end up under him with enough orgasms to last you a week. but it's never enough to last, of course, and it's not long before you do it all over again.

he likes to act like he's teaching you a lesson, but you both have been through this routine enough times to know it's the thrill that keeps you coming back more than the need for punishment. you could always just ask him, but where's the fun in that? it's much more exciting to push his buttons and let him take over. it would almost be funny how his reaction is exactly the same every single time, if your reaction weren't also exactly the same. it's a habit you fall into together, but you wouldn't trade it for anything.

jun's fingers slide up your body, stopping at your waist to grab you and pull you harder against his nose. it's impossible not to let yourself get lost in it, moaning and threading your fingers in his hair as your pussy throbs in his mouth.

he points his tongue at your clit once more and he doesn't let up until your thighs start to shake, your breath coming out in shallow gasps. you're close and he knows it, almost even better than you know it yourself because he's spent so much time between your legs that he knows how to read your body like an open book.

your fingers in his scalp squeeze tighter, pushing his head further into you, and he groans at the feeling. he loves how quickly you get fucked out from his mouth alone, that you’re barely even processing how roughly you're moving his head because your body is on fire from the stimulation.

he'd live and die in your pussy if he could, and that's exactly what he plans to do tonight as his tongue flicks faster and harder. he can feel the wetness already gushing out of you and he knows you're right there, ready to give him what he so desperately wants.

with one final suck to your clit you go rigid and your muscles release, whimpers and whines flowing from your lips like liquid as you cum. it drenches his face, running down his cheeks and his chin and soaking his hair.

he drinks you up like a starved man, like he's been wandering alone in the desert and finally found his oasis. your head rolls back and your body writhes under his hands, but his grip is too tight and he is far too committed on getting every last drop from you to allow you to squirm out of his grasp.

it's overwhelming nearly to the point of pain but you don't want him to stop, you desperately need him to keep going until you're drained. and that’s one of the best things about jun, is that by now he can practically read your mind and he can tell when you need more and when you don’t.

he can tell what you want without even having to ask, so he reaches up and squeezes your hand in his as he looks up from between your legs, meeting your eyes and giving you that look that makes you shiver because you couldn’t imagine anyone else but him in this position. you don’t want to stop, not yet, and he nods at you knowingly with a hazy little grin and slides his tongue right back where you want it.

he’s more than willing to spend the rest of the night kneeling in front of you until you’re spent, if that’s what you want. honestly, he’s willing to spend the rest of his life there, too.

i hope you enjoyed this!! if you did, consider reblogging or leaving a comment or an ask :) it shows me this is something people want to see more of, and knowing people like this makes me want to write more of it! thanks for reading!!

taglist will be in the comments under this fic since tumblr is having problems with mentions, i can't add them as i usually do. if you'd like to join and be notified when i post a new fic, you can fill out this short form here! :)

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kedreeva · 2 months

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Okay, I haven't wanted to talk much about the peafowl lately, been just kinda dealing with Stan's passing, but! I have news I don't want to keep quiet, so here we go with a little announcement.

I've been helping a friend of mine with a bunch of peafowl genetics work lately, as he's trying to prove out a really neat phenotype of speckled and white peafowl that showed up in his breeding stock, and he just spent tens of thousands of dollars importing two new morphs from Europe: European violet (aka, my dream morph) and Ultramarine (pretty and only otherwise being produced by TWO breeders in the WORLD). When Bill heard about Stan, he asked if I was going to go to a large farm auction that's a few hours from my house. I don't, normally, since it's a few hours from my house and the auctions usually make me kinda sad when it comes to peafowl (they stress out SO MUCH) even though it's cool to see how much they're going for at a wider audience auction.

Then he told me he would be going, and that if I wanted to come down the day before the auction, he'd bring me another male, to replace Stan. I had already made plans to hang onto Bismuth, at least for a few years, and to pick up babies from Indie x Arcana/Eclipse this november, including a male, so I didn't really need another male, and don't have the cash for one anyway. He said no, he meant one of the split EUV males from last year's first-USA breeding. For free. As a thank you for helping him.

To put this into perspective, importing the birds is a ~$10k affair, per bird. I had fully resigned myself to never even SEEING one of these birds in person, much less ever owning one. Even if someone else got them imported, they would remain thousands of dollars for the first few years, and quickly become mixed with other stuff, potentially even be lost by people breeding to purple. He went in on a group import with another breeder and they have both just started selling the full-color birds for over $2k apiece (alongside Ultramarine, which before their import was bred by TWO people in the WORLD, and babies from that are going for almost $7k each, but EUV is more widely spread). Splits (like the one I will be getting) are being let go for $750. This is also the color I have desperately wanted since I first saw them 8-10 years ago (though I believe they've been around slightly longer), but that I had resigned myself to never actually having.

To put it mildly, I'm probably going to burst into tears when I see Bill and this bird. It's going to be super embarrassing. And then I'm going to have to build more pens. And then I'm going to have to get as plain-blue, pure-indian blue hens as I can find, and become one of the most serious curators of plain pure EUV in the US, because I know the other two who have them currently will be outcrossing to other patterns/colors immediately and the people buying them will likely be doing the same, and everyone will be clamoring to make them into high Spaldings ASAP, or won't know not to cross them to purples and wreck the color.

Here's the sire cock, the one imported:

You will notice that this bird is purple in full sun, from the sunny side. That's the main difference between European violet and US purple- a US purple looks blue until you get the right angle on the sun vs the bird vs the camera, and you have to get the bird between you and the sun, so the purple is often in the shadow side- visible to the eye but not the camera. EUV is just purple. Even from the sunny side!!

And the Ultramarine, in case you were wondering about their color:

(pics reposted w/ permission from Bill)

The breeder is Spring Creek Peafowl, and in case anyone is secretly a peafowl breeder or knows other peafowl breeders with too much money that want in on a new color morph, he DOES have UM pairs and EUV hens (and more split males) for sale currently, for less than the only other person in the US that has them. They're still pricey, but cheaper. I WISH I had the extra to have my friend add on an EUV hen, but alas, I will have to wait to make my own in a few years. Even just the opportunity to do so is something I never expected to have!

#peafowl #my pets #longfeather lane #cool cool cool i'm crying about it again #but listen I am OVERCOME with happiness okay #Can't wait to cry in the middle of a VERY public place over a bird #can i gofundme a bird?? is that allowed in their tos

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lehguru · 3 months

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BE MINE + ONE PIECE MEN

request: them asking the reader to be their partner + luffy, zoro, sanji & law

info: gn!reader, i forgor how i characterize them so bear with me, also this is me trying to crawl back to one piece so im sorry if its rlly bad; not proofread!!! (i should start asking ppl to beta read those istg)

monkey d.luffy didn't really straight up asked you to be his partner. luffy being luffy, he walked up to you one day and said that you were his partner. you, having feelings for the captain for a really long time now, chuckled nervously, asking "what do you mean?". as he explained that nami told him that if he liked you, then he should ask you out, you could hear the red head sighing from somewhere—you knew at least half of the crew was watching you two right now. you laughed softly at the proud smile he wore and nodded, agreeing to be his.

roronoa zoro was almost the same as luffy, but at least he had the decency to actually ask you about it. during a beautiful day, you were on one side of the little garden that was built in the thousand sunny's deck, helping robin to water the plants. out of nowhere, a shadow was cast upon your crouching form; looking up, you noticed the green haired swordsman and smiled at him, getting up. "yes, zor—"

cutting you off, he asked in the same stoic tone he almost always had: "do you want to be my partner?". your eyes went wide and you let out a small exclamation of surprise. taking that as a denial, he turned back and started to walk away, but you managed to yell out his name. "yes! i will be your partner." the man huffed and nodded, but you could see a slight blush dusting his cheekbones.

when the subject is romance and love, you always expect sanji to be a master at it. out of everyone, he should be the one knowing how to ask someone to be his significant other, but he has never felt this... strongly about someone like he feels about you. when he approaches you to ask that, he's holding a little box with your favorite dessert, his long slender fingers shaking a little as words seemed to catch on his throat for the first time in front of someone he loves. he took a deep breath, a bead of sweat dripping down the back of his neck, you touching his arm and asking 'is everything okay, sanji?' with your sweet voice sent him over the edge. "do you want to date me?", his words were clear for him, but for you, he simply spat all of them out at the same time. you told him to breathe and say it again, and he did, his eyes looking at the floor with the shame of the rejection that would surely come his way. your head almost bumped on his as you jumped on his arms, screaming a yes and giggling loudly. he hugged you and spun you around, giggles of his own leaving his pink lips.

trafalgar d.water law didn't want to acknowledge his feelings for you. you were one of his closest friends, one of the few people he trusted the most—you knew things about him that he never told another soul; so he was afraid of losing you. terrified even. he had lost enough people that he loved during his life and he couldn't bear to lose another one. but... his other friends knew a little too much about his "silly" feelings.

"c'mon man, go ask them out." law saw himself being cornered by penguin, sachi and bepo one day, all of them with playful expressions. "the worst you can get is a punch."

he tried to ignore them, ignore how his cheeks seemed to be heating up, but they were being so obnoxious and annoying, he couldn't handle them anymore. with a burst of rage, he yelled at them, "can you shut up? i don't like them and they don't like me, either!"

"like who?" your voice made his heart leave his body and he felt like stabbing the three men—and bear—that were running away now. "no one." law replied, scoffing to himself for the slip up. "torao! tell me! come on!" now you were the one bugging him and he rubbed his face with his hand. you poked his cheek, giving him a little pout. "law, please!"

"it's you." he snapped, making you freeze. "it's you, dumbass." surprising the man, you started to giggle, making him go from annoyed to even more embarassed. "what?" you kissed his lips softly and started to walk away, saying that you accepted to be his partner.

#monkey d luffy #roronoa zoro #sanji #trafalgar d water law #luffy x reader #luffy x you #zoro x reader #zoro x you #sanji x reader #sanji x you #law x reader #law x you #luffy x reader fluff #zoro x reader fluff #sanji x reader fluff #law x reader fluff

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trashogram · 1 month

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He Chose You (Pt. 8)

Lucifer/Reader: Lucifer chooses you to be the mother of his child. Rated E.

The illness persists in the weight of your skin over your bones yet the loss of actual muscle and fat that turn you skeletal. Your legs become bow-like and pain radiates just above your hairline. Your vision crackles with scattered flashes of black dots, and you drink like a man lost in the desert.

Only foods that are red stay down, and even then you only nibble at peppers and plug your nose at the raw meat you stuff in your mouth. You feel the sunlight outside your window when you open it up and stick your hand through, as walking out of your apartment is a chore you can only handle once a week at most.

Once a homebody, reclusive out of necessity and exhaustion from simple interactions, you now live for Lucifer��s chatter. His presence abates your fever, physically and emotionally. The dependence on him, as sweet as he appears, makes you itch inside.

Everything is terrible, you tell yourself at least once per day, as the illness persists.

But if Lucifer is good at anything, it’s providing you with distractions from the ever-present suffering.

—

The sounds you made put the Angelic Choir to shame.

“Lucifer, don’t say that!”

The King of Hell’s laugh was muffled as he stayed buried in your cunt. The memory of you being so flustered was almost just as sweet.

He eyed your tightly screwed expression just over your growing belly, and felt gratified at his idea to have you propped up by pillows from head to hips. With the boost, Lucifer could watch you enjoy yourself and remain comfortable.

Let him feel the springs of your mattress dig into his knees and stomach. They were secondary to the pain of his own hardness straining in his slacks.

A keen from you, and the feeling of your nails as they raked through his hair and over his scalp, had Lucifer moaning. His eyes rolled back, momentarily blinded by euphoria.

“Ooh!”

Eyes snapping open, Lucifer lifted himself from the bed quickly. His tongue slipped out of you, dripping onto the sheets when he was mindless to reeling it back in.

“Why’d you stop?” Your whine between quick pants made him blink.

One eye at a time.

“I thought I hurt you.” He smiled, sheepishly, once his tongue was back in his mouth.

His mauve-lids and golden lashes fluttered when you wiped the slick from his chin. There was no missing the color that had returned to your cheeks with all the exertion he was putting you through, and he felt a swell of pride at being able to breathe life back into you. So to speak.

“Heaven help me.” You said, sarcastically.

Breathlessly.

The Devil’s hips jerked when your hand rose to grip a fistful of his blond hair. You manually lowered him back between your legs, heedless to the way his entire frame shivered.

—

‘I think I… I think I’m in love with her.’ Lucifer looked so earnest, meeting the glow of Ozzie’s stare.

The Sin clucked a tongue in his King’s direction, shaking his head. ‘Well, don’t tell her that. You’re gonna scare her away, man.’

—

Lucifer watched you fall apart from just his tongue (its length and width being inhuman notwithstanding).

You were so beautiful like this. Legs shaking, body spasming, letting go.

‘I love you.’

Man’s (alleged) Greatest Enemy could just barely contain himself.

‘I love you I love you I love you’

—

Lucifer brings you another scroll one sunny day, and you find it riddled with names.

“I’ve been thinking about what to call him or her, so I made a list! …Kinda, sorta during a meeting… whatever, it wasn’t that important!”

Oh, you could see that.

“Do you like any of them? Which are your favorites? No! Gimme your top 5!” His jubilation is so innocent, but something inside you hitches.

“Does it actually matter what I think?” You chuckled.

“Of course it does!” He cried. “You’re the mo— uh… you’re putting in most of the work!”

The weak save went unchallenged. You were already circling names, likening the process to navigating a minefield as you looked through a long line of names you couldn’t even pronounce or read.

‘Ehb

Horus

Azor

Carlton’

“What about a girl?” Lucifer asked out of the blue.

Your head cocked to the side as you realized your picks had been relegated to just one side of the endless list. That he’d written down names for boys and for girls struck you as odd.

“You think it’ll be a girl?”

Lucifer looked at you with a curious gaze. “Could be, couldn’t it?”

After a moment, you shrugged. “I guess so…”

The King’s confusion crinkled around his eyes and caused an uncanny few lines in his otherwise perfect forehead. You flick the pen at him teasingly to wipe the look from his face.

You write a few names down, and watch with a smirk as his frown turns upside down.

‘Adrienne

Charlotte

Maleficent’

You ignored the painful thought that this was a pointless endeavor. Naming a dead thing.

—

With eyebrows raised, you sat waiting dutifully, hands clasped over your stomach while he rummaged through the box.

“Aha!” He pulled out two red objects, one in each hand, and knee’d the chest out of the way to present them to you.

“Surprise!”

Two remarkably crafted stuffed animals were set before you on the couch cushion.

Goats.

It took you a second to place them, staring at their intricate appearances — covered in fluffy red fur from head to cloven hoof, with large yellow eyes and tiny red smiles stitched on their stark white muzzles.

Shiny, metallic-looking horns curled over the curvature of their little heads, tips almost touching the tiny approximations of wings protruding from their backs. You noticed that the little wings were also sticking out of the backs of their tiny tuxedo suits; solid black to further contrast their Luciferean color schemes.

An uncharacteristically high-pitched squeal escaped you.

Damn these hormones. You internally chastised yourself while reaching out to finger at the detailed plushies.

“They’re so cute!” You admired the unbelievable softness of one’s fur, hand overlapping with Lucifer’s as you turned it this way and that. His grin was so wide in your peripheral vision as he soaked up your fawning.

“Aren’t they?!” Lucifer squealed along with you. “They’re twins! But see this one has lighter fur and this one has sharper eyes. I tried to give them little differences so they had some individuality.”

“Michael and I looked so similar in the Beginning, a ton of people always got us mixed up. Sometimes it was fun, but I got tired of hearing him bitch about it after the first couple centuries.”

A more serene countenance overtook your counterpart, with his line of sight drifting off to the floor beside you. Lost in thought. Or perhaps reminiscing.

“Michael?” You asked gently.

“My brother.” Lucifer replied.

“Ohh, I think I remember… is he a Prince of Hell too?”

The formerly Divine man frowned. “… No. Not him.”

A shadow fell over you both, distant sadness suffusing the air. You reached for him instantly, only for Lucifer to switch on like a lightbulb and grin manically.

“Oh well! Who knows, maybe he took Dad’s side just to make sure no one ever confused us for each other ever again!”

You pulled away. “… right.”

Lucifer shook his head after a glance in your direction.

“Um, so, I was thinking…” He began. “Maybe we give one to the baby an-nd… one could stay here… with you…”

There was no hiding the confusion that crossed your face.

You ‘tsk’ed. “You wanna deny the baby half this cuteness?”

In response, Lucifer tittered, still adamant on looking around the room instead of meeting your gaze head on. “Hah, no. I was thinking that, maybe, we could keep one of them here and… and then they could reunite every time the baby and I… or just the baby… visit…”

Slow realization made your already weak constitution roil.

Perhaps, if you’d been yourself and not the hollow shell of a person you’d become while pregnant, you would’ve been angry. Or upset enough to shout. Maybe you would’ve gotten up and left him there on his lonesome, wordlessly demanding he not entertain that idea ever again.

Certainly, the You from before this insane, impossible scenario wouldn’t hesitate to react melodramatically.

You sighed, fiddling with one of the goat’s tails. “Oh Lou…”

He cringed beneath the weight of your words, laden with a heaviness that harshened his already guilty conscience.

“Wait, before you say no —” Lucifer felt his mouth running away from him. “Maybe you could think about it and then decide? Maybe after they’re born?”

“It doesn’t have to mean anything. I don’t expect anything from you.”

“You’re expecting me to be its mother.” Your tone broke no room for argument.

Mauve eyelids drooped as Lucifer looked down in shame. “I — ”

“I wouldn’t make a good mom.” Your statement stopped him in his tracks.

Frustration simmered in Lucifer, slowly creeping into his expression as you continued, unrelenting. His posture went rigid, hands beginning to clench at his sides.

“It’s not that I don’t care. I probably care too much, actually.” You admitted.

It was true. Regardless of your paranoia and how justified it was or not, the sole basis for why you felt the need to argue in the first place —

(And wasn’t that just pathetic? You had feelings for the Epitome of Evil and had entertained being safe and happy with him)

— the reality was that you’d been a broken human being before this cosmic impossibility entered your life.

“I just don’t…” You sighed. “I wouldn’t be a good part of their life if I was in it.”

Your head whipped up, vision spotting when Lucifer blurted:

“You are the best part of my life.”

He looked angry. Furious. So much so that the sclera around his irises began to radiate a blood-red.

“Do you know how hard it is? To leave you? I have to convince myself every single time that you’ll still be here when I return!” Lucifer claimed. “And soon I won’t even be able to do that!”

“I don’t want to say goodbye forever! I… I l…”

You shuddered, stiffening in your seat. As soon as he realized, Lucifer’s display was cowed.

“Fuck, are you alright? I’m not — I don’t know what came over me!”

You shook your head. “No.”

“It stopped.” You whispered.

Lucifer’s grip trembled around your wrists. “Stopped?”

His breathless echo of your words drew your eyes up. You saw the storm brewing in his ruby eyes, as even though he waited for you to elaborate, a million thoughts pelting at his brain like hail.

“The pain stopped.” You said.

Your hands felt over the bump beneath your breasts, as if you might find the imaginary ‘off’ button and turn it back on.

It was ludicrous to think about, but you immediately wished for the agony that had been crippling you to return if it meant that this baby wasn’t… wasn’t…

Tears glistened in your eyes. Lucifer drew you to his chest in spite of the fear that was pulling his shoulders taut.

“Wh-what did you do today? Anything different?” The ex-Angel asked shakily.

His eyes scanned you up and down, lingering on the little dolls he’d just gifted you.

“No… n-no, nothing different.” You said. “I was in bed all morning, and th… then Cass was here and we had tea… we went out and walked a little bit outside.”

“Did you fall?” The King hedged.

You gasped, eyes widening. Instinctively your arms wrapped around your middle at the foreign feeling emanating from within.

“Did…! You fell??” He panicked, grabbing onto you like a life raft. “Where? On what?!”

His words drifted away as you were enveloped in the strangest surge of feeling you’d ever experienced.

You could only just muster up the energy to shake your head.

Sudden warmth.

And pressure.

A tiny flutter, one you’d never felt before.

You inhaled quickly yet deeply at the feeling of something pressing against your belly-button from the inside.

It made you grin, hands coming back to grab for Lucifer’s own and to pull them to your stomach. “They’re alive!”

The man’s jaw went slack, staring sightlessly for just as long as it took to soak up the sudden heat there. The baby took pity on its poor, trembling father and kicked again.

It was Lucifer’s turn to gasp, looking back and forth between you and the bump with dawning awe.

“It is!” He laughed, a tad bit hysterically. “It — they are alive!”

“… And… glowing…”

“You’re glowing!”

*** Tag List: @crescent-z, @for-hearthand-home, @undertale-is-sansational, @loslox, @navierkalani, @yaimlight, @ivoryviness, @crystalplays28, @flowerempress, @wally-darling-hyperfixation, @altruisticradiodemon, @moonlight-readings, @halparkebitch, @charliecharlie65, @sockgoblin, @cocomollo, @caniseethefourthsword, @squeegeeclean, @crow-twink, @an-emovision, @marydragneell, @lafy-taffy, @fandom-imagines1, @loquacious-libra, @glowymxxn, @avadakadabra93, @froggybich, @hamthepan, @ukor02, @adaizel, @boogiemansbitch, @vinillies, @lbcreations-blog, @thesoundresoundsecho, @serenity-loves-red, @alientee

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer morningstar #lucifer x reader #hazbin hotel x reader

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desireesfics · 23 days

Text

the girl across the street.

pairing: fem!reader x loser!ellie

summary: you’ve decided to move into a little house on ellie’s street, she sees you and almost dies from your natural beauty. being the big ass nerd she is, she decides to help you but continues to stumble on her words. instead of her helping you guys sit in your backyard for a bit and talk for hours only to find out you’re very similar.

warnings: none just fluff and ellie being a big loser.

a/n: ive been writing part 2 for ‘bad habits’ just wanted to take a break from it and write something i wanted to for awhile :)

it was a beautiful sunny day, perfect for you to move actually. not to hot, not to cold, just right! you called the people and waited for them to come so they could pick up the boxes that were stacked in piles among piles in your parents house.

they came and you helped them with very little strength into the moving truck. (you js picked up the light boxes but the people appreciated it.) they offered a lift there but you politely declined and hopped into your car.

it wasn’t so hot, but you still felt the excessive need to put on the aircon. you turned up the volume as one of your favourite songs had just come on, opening the windows and turning off the aircon (since it would be such a waste).

the whole ride there was a vibe, you felt a little sad when you had to hop out but you were beyond excited to see what your new house awaited for you.

you’ve obviously seen the inside before when you were looking around, but you just adored the street, the house itself — everything about this place was just so welcoming and you couldn’t wait to spend the rest of your time here.

you looked around as you hopped out, the moving truck had gotten here before you and they were already effortlessly lifting boxes into your house. you admired the little garden that you could build on out the front of your house. there were flowers everywhere, and it just looked beyond beautiful.

you genuinely couldnt believe you scored such a place. i mean apart from the rent being so expensive, you were still super happy.

you were talking to one of the moving people when you saw a glimpse of a very handsome girl staring at you through your window. jesus, you thought. you zoned out, completely out of it like literally not listening to whatever the guy was rambling on about. you were just staring right back at the mysterious, beautiful girl through her window.

she averted her attention from your lower half to your face and got extremely flustered after realising you were staring right back at her.

‘fuck, she totally saw you looking! stop being a fucking idiot ellie.’ she repeated over and over, turning around, crashing her palm into her forehead and falling backwards onto her bed.

you stifled a giggle and the man thought you were laughing at him. he full on side eyed you.

‘s—sorry! what was it you were saying?’ you smiled politely at him. you were an angel in disguise is what ellie thought. pretty face, hair, clothes, body..

you were the definition of perfect. now you probably thought ellie was a big loser.

you didnt, actually the complete opposite of a loser. you thought she was beautiful, charming even. though you two have never actually held a conversation before, you enjoyed the thought of talking to her.

ellie really really really wanted to invite you over, maybe bring something over to welcome you to the neighbourhood. but she had no idea how to cook properly or even bake, ellie doesnt know how she lives on her own. but it already looked like her next door neighbour, marjorie, was already bringing freshly baked cookies over.

fuck marjorie and her old woman cooking skills, there goes ellies chance. she watched you embrace marjorie with a warm hug, your enchanting smile plastered on your face. she swears if she ever catches marjorie bringing over anything else shes going to fully box her.

‘cant wait til’ that old bat goes into a retirement home.’ ellie spat. its not like marjorie is so innocent either, she constantly tells ellie to dress like a proper woman, whispering to all the other old women on the street about her being a so called ‘dyke’. yeah screw marjorie.

ellie rolled her eyes and fell back onto her bed, only to go into a deep, well-needed slumber.

the next morning, ellie had spent all day making a drawing of you, adding in all of your perfections, thinking whether or not to give it to you. she was in a deep ass ponder when she got a knock on the door.

‘marjorie, i dont have any more sugar!’ she yelled. then she heard your faint giggle. oh fuck.

she rushed up from her seat, completely forgetting to cover the very obvious drawing of you. she twisted the doorknob a couple times with her clammy hands.

‘h—hey! sorry..’ she stuttered. you just flashed her one of your smiles and came in. was she dreaming? why are you in her house? what the actual fuck is going on.

‘i uh, i got your text! you said you made something for me?’ you smiled again, this time it reaching your eyes. ellie looked so confused, like a lost dog.

‘i texted you?’ holy shit, holy shit. ellie was so high this morning, she didnt actually mean to send that text to you. (please ignore the fact that reader literally didnt give ellie their number ellies just built different.)

her face dropped, all colour draining from it. ‘im so sorry, ‘i—i didint mean to actually send that text.’ she just babbled on and on and on until you glanced at her table.

‘who’re you drawing?’ you pointed at the table and she shuffled over to it. she shook her head and closed the drawing book. im such a mess, she thought.

‘’s no one.. not important.’ she smiled awkwardly. you just giggled, with your fucking cute mouth, she was internally dying, she felt so hot-headed.

‘oh! ellie, youre burning up! your face— its very red.’ you rushed over, concerned, oblivious to the fact that she was blushing over the thought of you.

ellie shook her head and shooed away your hands. she gave you a polite but very awkward, half-smile. ‘’m fine, its fine! i uh— dont wanna waste your time, you best be going.’

you frowned, was it something you did? why was she excusing you out of her house.

on the other hand ellie was stressing. ‘you best be going.’ who the fuck says something like that. she was staring at her feet, then she glanced up at your face and noticed the slight frown.

‘yeah, sorry. cya els!’ els? holy guacamole. she was even more red faced then before if thats even possible, the tips of her ears were quite literally bright red.

‘no-no wait, can you just maybe come by again tomorrow, i havent actually finished what i was making for yo—‘ shes said to much. you just stood there smirking.

‘so you did make something for me?’ she was completely and utterly dumbfounded. mouth agape and just nodding her pretty little head.

‘ill be here at this time tomorrow, dont fail me ellie.’ you grinned, you enjoyed teasing this “stranger”. not to mention she was completely ogling over you when she opened the door to you.

‘y—yeah!’ she swallowed hard. she waved as you left the house and you flashed her one of your stupid smiles with your pearly teeth that she’ll be thinking about for days.

well, ellie was officially fucked.

#lesbian #ellie williams #ellie x reader #lgbtqia #i need ellie bro #wlw #ellie tlou #ellie williams tlou #sub!ellie #loser!ellie #this is so gay #i love ellie #fem!reader

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hotjaneaustenmenpoll · 1 month

Text

Semi-Final Two

Propaganda...

Mr Knightley (2009):

Johnny Lee Miller as Knightley is JUST SO. I mean the way he says "if I loved you less I might be able to talk about it more" IS JUUUST. The dance scene. The tentative shy smiles. The fact you can see in his eyes the entire time " I am completely in love with this woman. She'll never love me back BUT I DO NOT CARE I'LL LOVE HER FROM A DISTANCE ANYWAY" IS JUUUUUUST

We need to appreciate Mr Knightley more for both his snark and for those soft eyes just so full of love for Emma

GIF by dearemma

I was just going to send in the actual dance but the little panic he has when Emma says she knows his secret is just soo charming. There was some thread on twitter a few years ago about how a romcom man's most important quality is knowing how to look at a woman and JLM is just the master of it in this Emma

youtube

I really feel like the pictures say it all. He stands there, head tilted to one side. He is listening to you. His posture is relaxed. His gaze open, frank, candid. He's not trying at all. He just is.And that's why he is Knightley.

GIF by night-unfurls-its-splendour

Some propaganda, not just for Jonny Lee Miller, but the general interpretation of 09 Knightley. I have some excerpts here from my review of the 09 adaptation:

What I really think is great about the 2009 interpretation of Mr. Knightley is what an easy and comforting presence he is, without being apologetic when he scolds Emma. I think this is communicated especially well by how often we are actually shown Mr. Knightley taking his almost-daily walks to Hartfield, how smoothly he comes and goes, and how happy Emma is every time she sees him coming up the path (usually, just at the perfect moment when she needs something to put her back to rights.)

Here is Emma, feeling lonely after Miss Taylor's wedding. And in the background, walking up to Hartfield--there's Knightley. He's always been there for her, and he always will be.

And also this Mr. Knightley is as understated as ever, but I wanna highlight this outfit and why I love it: This is Knightley’s first appearance in the series and it’s the perfect establishing shot that shows the viewer everything they need to know about Emma and Knightley’s relationship and how it has always been. He sort of materializes, out of focus in the background, but Emma immediately knows he’s there. And to accentuate how much Knightley is part of her home and scenery, his clothes (similar shades of pale tan, white and minty green to the wall behind him) almost camouflage him and make him seem at one with the moulding of her home.

Additionally, Jonny Lee Miller captures Knightley’s playful qualities, and his exasperation is so endearing

GIF by christophernolan

GIF by sashajames

GIF by christophernolan

I can’t be the only one tickled by this Knightley’s frustration with Emma! JLM FTW!

Jonny Lee Miller is mesmerizing in any role he inhabits. It’s 2009 Knightly all the way.

no but can you actually go vote for mr knightley he was FOUNDATIONAL for 16 year old me my favourite portrayal of my favourite austen man cannot fall at this hurdle!!!

He is my ultimate Austen Dream Man, I'm with him until the end. Honestly this adaptation is my very favorite of them all (P&P 1995 is a VERY close second) because it made me fall in love with Emma as a story? Honestly no other adaptation or indeed even my reading of the book made me love it quite as much. My crush on JLM goes back to 1995 and I do think he is one of the better actors of his generation - his range alone is just impeccable. The fact that he can go from Sick Boy to Mr. Knightley to Sherlock to Jordan Chase is really something. Of all the actors I know, his range is the most impressive. But i love how bright and sunny this adaptation is. The colors, it is as vibrant as Emma should be! The Kate Beckinsale Emma is dark and terrifying to me, not at all suitable an adaptation. I like the Paltrow Emma a lot, but it's got the same issue the 2005 P&P has for me -- it's just too short. This is tonally just right, and the casting is lovely, and JLM is just at his dashing best. His face is so expressive, he is so capable of communicating so much without saying a word. His open jealousy of Frank Churchill is delightful to watch. His face when Emma tells him his secret is out at the ball! JLM is maybe the most underrated actor of his generation and I LOVE that he has been multiple Austen heroes. I maintain that in a future adaptation of Pride & Prejudice, an older JLM would make an EXCELLENT Mr. Bennet. He would convey the right amount of grumpy but fond beautifully.

Look. Do people realize JLM hates wearing period clothing AND hates dancing? And yet in Emma he's sashaying around in pink jackets looking amazing and is THAT convincing? That's called BRILLIANT ACTING!!

youtube

A tiny bit of Mr Knightley 2009 propaganda but I love that they put in that bit from the book where he looks like he's going to kiss Emma's hand when he's saying goodbye but then he hesitates and doesn't and I just...it's such a tiny detail but conveys so much!

GIF by myforeverworldofmovie

It’s the only Emma adaptation that really hits the romance notes well. Knightley’s crowning moment of awesome really feels like it (when he rescues Harriet from humiliation) and his subsequent dancing with Emma does make you feel a shift in their relations. Love this adaptation. - This Knightley and Emma in particular are equals. They quarrel, not because he’s telling her off, but because they can have an argument because they know each other, trust each other and care about each others opinions, and there is never a sense of domination of one over the other. This adds so much fire to the romance, and it’s so unusual for a romance of that era (or even one written today!!). - Emma is rich, clever and beautiful and as powerful as a woman of her age and situation could be at the time and she married Knightley for no other reason but because he’s her best friend and his company for the rest of her life will enrich her. - He even leaves his house to move in with her!

Captain Wentworth (1995):

Ciaran Hinds has that perfect ruggedness yet friendliness to his face that makes him the perfect charming Wentworth. And all of the longing that he manages to convey in his eyes is so hot.

Wentworth may be angry/resentful with Anne but in general he is charming and the best friend you could ever have. Ciaran gets the pleasant parts of his character and brings them out, while keeping a guarded coolness (protective camouflage) with Anne.

GIF by molinaesque

I dunno if this counts as propaganda or not, but Ciaran Hinds has a face that looks like it was jackhammered out of a shale cliff.

If a line like 'I am half agony...half hope' comes out of a face like that you know that man has a soul for poetry.

I can listen no longer in silence. I must speak to you by such means as are within my reach. You pierce my soul. I am half agony, half hope. Tell me not that I am too late, that such precious feelings are gone for ever. I offer myself to you again with a heart even more your own than when you almost broke it, eight years and a half ago. Dare not say that man forgets sooner than woman, that his love has an earlier death. I have loved none but you. Unjust I may have been, weak and resentful I have been, but never inconstant. You alone have brought me to Bath. For you alone, I think and plan. Have you not seen this? Can you fail to have understood my wishes? I had not waited even these ten days, could I have read your feelings, as I think you must have penetrated mine. I can hardly write. I am every instant hearing something which overpowers me. You sink your voice, but I can distinguish the tones of that voice when they would be lost on others. Too good, too excellent creature! You do us justice, indeed. You do believe that there is true attachment and constancy among men. Believe it to be most fervent, most undeviating, in

F. W.

I must go, uncertain of my fate; but I shall return hither, or follow your party, as soon as possible. A word, a look, will be enough to decide whether I enter your father's house this evening or never.

This is propaganda for the next round because I need my boy to be a finalist! But this letter is all the persuasion I need to know that he is a winner

youtube

Ciarán Hinds in this is a whole other level of "a good man" He makes Anne's decision at the end so much more perfect.

#hotjaneaustenmenpoll #semi finals #mr knightley #captain wentworth #emma 2009 #persuasion 1995 #Emma #persuasion #jane austen #ciaran hinds #jonny lee miller

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demonpiratehuntress · 3 months

Note

Hi !!! Just found your blog recently- absolutely love how you write the comfort pirates :< !!🫶 if you’re open to requests (if not, pls ignore!! It’s not a need ^_^) would it be okay for strawhat and/or heart pirates (you chose which characters! Doesn’t have to be all) headcannons with a reader who losses their emotional support stuffie?

It’s not a big plush, a small one that could fit in your pocket- something simple and easy to hold or squeeze, but when they lose it they get kinda anxious :( they try to hide it from the crew tho, it’s pretty childish heh.. (and if it is, again no need to write agshdjfk)

Thank you!! Keep up the great work, and take care of yourself! Have a great night/day <3

thank you! you're so sweet <3 this idea sounds SO cute, i was definitely excited to write this one! I'm so sorry for the long wait, my laptop crashed and needs to be repaired so I'm doing all my requests on my phone which takes so much longer :(

taglist - @kabloswrld

plushie (Straw Hats + Law)

featuring - Zoro x F!Reader, Law x F!Reader, Usopp x F!Reader, Luffy x F!Reader, Sanji x F!Reader

summary - the ask above

warnings - none

ZORO

You panic, the anxiety of losing your comfort plushie too much for you to handle.

But you won't go to Zoro or anyone else for help, thinking that they'll just make fun of you.

Especially Zoro, he can be quite mean even unintentionally.

So you search all over the ship yourself, worry and fear steadily increasing.

You hoped and prayed no one else found it before you, because surely they would laugh at you and tease you to no end.

"Babe what are you looking for?" Zoro grumbles after a few hours of you refusing to cuddle him in favour of searching for your plushie. "And why is it so important?"

It helped you cope. With stress, with anxiety, with any problem you faced. It was comforting, and it relaxed you. Keeping it close made you feel secure, safe and sound. But you didn't tell him that.

You tried not to look too desperate, or else the others might ask you as well.

"This what you looking for?"

You almost died on the spot when you turned around to see your boyfriend holding your plushie up, a huge grin on his face.

"Zoro-"

"It's kind of cute, actually," he studied it. "But you have me, you know that right?"

You sighed and explained that this plushie was for when he was training, and you tried to get him to swear not to tell anyone but...

Zoro is a menace so he tells everyone.

SANJI

You know Sanji would not make fun of you for it, in fact he would probably think it's cute and compliment you and the plushie non-stop, but you still didn't tell him.

His compliments, although good-natured, would make you feel like a child, and you didn't want that embarrassment.

But searching for your plushie isn't easy, because the Sunny is huge.

So staying inconspicuous while looking for your comfort source is quite difficult, and there are moments when Sanji does suspect you're acting weirdly but you try to avoid him when he starts staring.

"Are you okay, my love?" He asks you every fifteen minutes, his concern growing by the second.

You laugh it off nervously, "Yes, love! Just making sure everything is clean."

At that point everyone knows something is off because who other than Franky and Usopp worries about the Sunny THAT much?

Eventually Sanji finds the plushie, but he's a bit confused. Is this what you're looking for?

To save you what he assumes would be embarrassment, since you haven't shown it to him before, he keeps it in your shared room and plans to ask you about it later.

When you don't find it by the end of the day, you feel like you want to cry. Your emotional support...gone. Just like that.

You don't expect to walk into your room and find Sanji sitting on your shared bed studying it curiously.

"Sanji," your eyes go wide, "Where did you find that?"

He looked up at you and smiled, "Under the bed! Is this what you've been looking for, my love? It's as cute as you are!"

You blush MADLY, walking over tentatively, "Please don't tell the others. They'll only laugh."

"I promise it's our secret," he grinned, then gave it back to you. "But love, you know you can come to me for anything, right?"

You smiled and nodded, kissing his cheek, relieved to have your plushie back with only one crewmember in the know.

LUFFY

You don't tell Luffy about your plushie because you're afraid he might steal it.

He's just childish in general, so you only worried about the others finding out.

When you lose it, you panic immediately thinking Luffy found it and took it.

Your anxiety worsened when you realised he might show it to the crew, because he hides absolutely nothing from everyone.

You can't ask him though...in fear of him not actually having it and then finding out.

Luffy doesn't notice your frantic searching, because of course he's too oblivious to.

You search every nook and cranny of the Sunny, dejection settling in when you still couldn't find it.

That is, until you walked in on Luffy holding it up while in the kitchen, and you thanked God that no one was around.

"Luffy!" You quickly grab it from him and cradle it against your chest protectively, glaring at him instinctively.

He pouted, "But it's cute! Tell me what it is, (Name), because it's almost as cute as you!"

You blushed, but told him anyway, "It's my emotional support plushie. But you can't tell anyone, Luffy!"

"But why do you need it? You have me!" He cheefully stated, theb frowned, "Why can't I tell anybody?"

"Because they will all laugh!"

He pouted more and agreed to not tell anyone.

You should have known better. He told everyone.

"LUFFY!"

LAW

Law already knows, sorry.

There is literally nothing you can keep hidden from this man.

But he pretends not to know, because he doesn't want to intrude on your privacy and he knows that if you wanted to tell him then you would have.

He also notices when you lose it and start searching the submarine whenever you could without arousing suspicion.

Bepo, Shachi and Penguin were nice but you knew the latter two would make fun of you.

"Are you okay, (Name)-ya?" Law's concerned voice startles you in the middle of turning your shared room upside-down in your desperate search.

You freeze, your eyes going wide, "Law-"

"You can tell me what you're looking for," he encouraged, "You can tell me anything, you know that."

You sighed and bit your lip, "Okay, it's this small, palm-sized plushie I use for comfort...I know it's childish-"

Law stopped you by holding something up - the plushie in question.

Your eyes widened, "Where did you- how- Thanks babe!" You smiled wide and reached for it, taking it gratefully and squeezing it to calm your nerves. "But can you please-"

"I won't say a word to anyone," he promised, sighing as he brought you close and wrapped his arms around you. "I know I'm not around as often as you'd like, but you still have me. You can still come to me. Okay?"

You smiled and nodded, "Okay."

"Good," he smiled and kissed the top of your head. "You're cute you know that? Cuter than that stuffed animal."

USOPP

Usopp, bless him, is the one who found your plushie before anyone else did.

But, curse him, he decided to withhold it until you asked for help finding it, because he sees how distraught you are and doesn't like it.

And he's sad that you don't trust him enough to tell him about it and that you don't trust him to have a mature reaction.

You look all over the Sunny, trying to be discreet so that no one asked you about what you were looking for.

And then you noticed the weird, hurt looks that your boyfriend was giving you, which made you frown.

Were you neglecting him in your search- no time for that, you had to find your plushie before someone else on the crew did, an outcome you dreaded most.

A few hours later, you were on the cusp of just giving up and sobbing, until Usopp walked up to you and handed your plushie to you.

"Usopp-"

"You could have told me," he frowned, "I would never make fun of you."

He started to walk away, but you stopped him.

"I know, I'm sorry," you sighed. "I just thought that it's so childish, I was too embarrassed to say anything."

"Well you shouldn't have been embarrassed cause it's not childish," he grinned, "It's actually cute and...oddly comforting."

"Right!" You smiled. "So you won't tell anyone?"

"Of course not! What do you take me for? I'm not Luffy!"

"Thanks babe."

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