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#my mind is just too disorganized
starryjkoo · 4 months
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I was rewatching the last Suchwita episode Jungkook was on and it was just so endearing how he couldn’t help but talk about the Jikook NY trip even though it was something that would have to be edited out. It was funny because later in the episode he started talking about SNTY and stopped himself because he said he probably shouldn’t talk about it. Taehyung said to go ahead because they could just edit it out and JK said this 😭
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And he was so serious about it! Like it was such a blunt refusal that Yoongi even told them (jokingly) to take it outside if they were going to argue.
And yet, when Yoongi asked JK about the travel show he couldn’t help but go into so much detail about it with such an adorably big grin on his face despite it absolutely being something that would have to be edited out (Jikook were taking spoilers about their show extremely seriously too lol!).
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It was just sooooo cute 😭 Jungkook could have stopped at any point too but he even goes right into a second story after the “heartstrings” comment.
It’s just really sweet because that whole conversation with Yoongi was so genuine, like it was a conversation between the two of them that wasn’t part of the show because it was obviously full of spoilers that couldn't be aired. Either JK momentarily forgot because he was just so into sharing the story or he just didn’t care because he really wanted to tell Yoongi about it anyways.
And the way that both of them looked so amused and endeared the entire time from the first second that Jimin was brought up is just so… idk, I need better vocabulary, but it was just so damn adorable lol. Jimin really does have that effect on people because literally the first mention of him and it’s all laughter and smiles and you have JK forgetting his “why would I talk about something they have to edit out” mindset.
Also Jikook in general just seem so excited about their show and it’s really sweet. They've only really mentioned it I think in this clip and the last live where they jumped on Namjoon for spoiling something lmao, but it’s like the way they talk about it and how obviously excited they are to share it with us and how JK was so amused by whatever funny chaotic things happened when Jimin arrived... it's really heartwarming. And it’s just sweet that no matter what they always seem to have so much fun together.
Anyways, it’s just really funny that in the SAME episode JK asks why would he talk about something that’s going to be edited out he talked about something that had to be edited out because it involved Jimin lmao. The fact that Jimin is always some sort of exception to Jungkook too is seriously something. Like speaking of Suchwita, it reminds me of when JK basically implied that the Jimin episode was the only full episode he had watched (that whole JM live was just crazy tbh).
I really can’t wait to find out what happened that was so chaotic and funny that had JK smiling like that and what had Jimin “tugging on heartstrings”. Like, is there going to be a scene of pitiful, pouty Jimin? Or is he just super endearing at one point? I'm so curious to see what all went down. And the Japan trip just seems like a fever dream, but that's just a whole other can of worms. But I really hope they release the full Suchwita convo sometime because the way JK talked about it was seriously adorable.
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satanfemme · 2 years
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re: that post I reblogged yesterday(?) about how dogs can be/are dangerous, and my tags saying they aren't human babies. I'm thinking about that still cause, honestly imo, soooo many problems with how people treat dogs seems related to the fact that most people see them as a 1:1 equivalent to a small human child. infantalizing them to a cartoonish degree. cause it's like, yes they need so much help navigating human society, and it's our job to care for them either way -- that's literally the evolutionary relationship our two species have. but an adult dog is still gonna be a fully autonomous living thing exactly the same as you are as an adult human. different social rules/'types' of intelligence/evolutionary niches doesn't negate the existence of a dog's internal world, thoughts, wants, and opinions. u might not be able to fully relate to those thought processes or understand them, but your understanding isn't what gives them worth.
(ntm it's entirely possible to better understand dog behavior with simple practice/research, but maybe that's just my personal "inclined to understand dogs better than other humans" neurodivergence talking idk lol)
obv example, but that's all why small dogs (who are easier to physically control, and therefor easier to physically treat like a toy/baby) are so frequently reactive -- their autonomy isn't respected otherwise. meanwhile in a lot of cases (tho nowhere near all unfortunately), large dogs can more easily demand respect before resorting to reactivity. and that's why we have to bribe the dogs at work so constantly lol. if a guy who's stronger than me doesn't want to follow me somewhere or go into a kennel for me or whatever, I simply can't force him even if I try. he will just stand there, and no one can stop him. so instead we need to work together to reach a mutual agreement; it's two-way communication. in the same vein: one of the first things I was trained on at work is how to respect dogs' consent/ask for their consent with things whenever possible. these considerations are super important in treating dogs right... and yet how frequently are they ignored/not-considered by humans cause a dog is seen as unthinking or lesser?
anyway this is just an incomplete thought tangent that doesn't even touch upon the way human children are wrongfully denied autonomy as well, or how worth isn't remotely tied to intelligence anyway. but u know. just something I've been thinking about while dealing with bad dog owners/potential-owners every day & while contemplating "hecking pupper furbaby" culture
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crypticminx · 5 months
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Hi! I loved ur telling Felix if pregnant fic so could we get a p2? Maby e Felix helping reader a morning sickness. Just fluffy ❤❤
Hi my angel!!! here you go! Xoxo
Pregnancy with Felix ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡
AN: part two to my headcanons, very fluffy xoxo
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- Felix would grow to be exceedingly close and overbearing of you at all times–all within good reason, of course. You felt incredibly tired? No problem, his usual disorganized bed would be neatly prepped and cozy for you with a cup of tea waiting on his night side table. Morning sickness? He was behind you as you would throw up all of your unpleasant remains from the previous night, holding back your silky hair while he gently circled his palm along your sore arched back in soothing motions
- Felix would favor sleeping in with you even if that foolishly resulted in the ignorant academic missing his first morning class, but you were immensely important to him in comparison to his repetitive lectures. He’d wrap you deeply into his chest, entangling both of your legs and arms to construct some sort of warmth from each of your bare bodies. When you’d finally close your eyes to try and regain your interrupted rest, Felix would slide his hand down to just below your ribs and on your abdomen. Though you were barely showing, he could already feel some sort of connection to what was inside of you and it made him feel affectionately sympathetic. Most of all, it made him cherish you even more and from that moment onward, he was destined to continue to treat you in a way that differentiated him from any other sort of love you had ever received.
- It would be too soon for the two of you to move into Saltburn, a manageable idea Felix came up with on a whim upon the two of you trying to discuss the reality of your soon to be future that included a baby. Felix, who terribly wished he could stay with you to attend to your doting needs at every passing hour of each day, still had his classes to attend. You would carefully decide not to continue any further studies, withdrawing yourself from all your classes. Much to your angry parents dismay as they harshly yelled at you once the whole truth unraveled from your apologetic mouth through the lines of a telephone in an empty hallway. They were far away, convenient enough for you, but hearing their harsh tones of pure disappointment made you mentally feel like you had been hit by a bus; paralyzed with sadness among all your other unwanted hormones. Felix, seeing you shamefully walk back into his room was to the rescue as he tried his best to reassure you. There was nothing more he despised than seeing your pretty little eyes swell with tears that were caused from people who should've been supporting you.
- “Y/n, darling, look at me” he would softly cup your flushed, tear-stained cheeks, “I could pay for your education whenever you'd want me to, y’know?” You only nodded at him, sniffling as you felt yourself trying to keep it together. “In fact,” his dark eyes scanned the room before their full attention was back on you, “what do you say we go get a place together, yeah?”
- Felix was soon to follow in sharing the news with his parents and judging by the huge grin he sported on his gorgeous face after hanging up on the telephone, you knew that their reaction was eons away in contrast to how your folks retaliated. And with everything finally being put into motion, a flat just on the outskirts of where campus was located was hastily granted and approved to you and Felix. “Mum was practically screaming with joy,” Felix admitted as he ran his fingers through his hair, shaking his head in the process while his mind painted the image of his mother beaming with delight at the thought of a Catton grandchild.
- You imagined your flat to be cute, cozy and fitting, but this was Felix Catton we were talking about. Opening the doors after receiving the keys to your shared place, you were stunned at how breathtakingly modern and posh the interior was. A large living room accompanied with what seemed to be an extraordinarily comfortable sofa, marble stained countertops in a kitchen that was larger than your previous dorm room all topped together with 4 exquisite bedrooms. It was a strange feeling, not unsettling, but very downright gracious as you could see everything playing out as if it were a movie. Candles would be lit on the dining table, the mouth watering smell of dinner you just prepared would be flowing in the air, and there would be an eager infant placed on your hip waiting to be fed. As you’re about to feed your young, Felix would walk in, looking exhausted from a tiresome day, but happy to see the two most important people in his life.
- “So?” he would interrupt your thoughts as he could see you relishing the moment. “I love it,” you would breathlessly vow before Felix could only respond by lifting you off of your feet and cautiously twirling you around the hardwood floors of your flat.
- As the months would slowly start to progress and evolve into life with Felix, you felt at ease for once and being able to have time granted to you allowed you to focus on yourself and your pregnancy, making everything less complicated. You could take any given moment to rest and let your body prepare itself for your child. Felix would do everything in his strong willed nature to find the best doctors for you, being in attendance for every appointment with you, and always kept himself in line for having access to all of your desires.
- Changes–lots and lots of changes. Watching your stomach slowly swell outwards was fascinating and you had accompanied a new profound sense of gratefulness for yourself. Most of the girls your age would probably die if they had to say goodbye to their wardrobe of short skirts and tube tops, but that didn't matter to you anymore, what did was your baby. Felix, on the other hand, was constantly in a state of awe whenever he was around you. His protective hands were always placed on your bump, caressing it with the utmost care possible, all while extensively praising you. “So so beautiful seeing you like this, my darling,” he'd gently whisper in your ear as you laid on top of his lean body, enjoying the spell he'd put you under that was his touch. “Carrying my baby,” he hushed, kissing the top of your head, his fingers unable to stop themselves from stroking one of your sensitive breasts. “You're only going to get more beautiful.”
- With all the happiness, there were also many challenges that you faced. Feeling extremely emotional more days than others, it was mainly the rare moments that Felix wasn't home or around to embrace you with his devoted presence that made you feel like you were missing out on a chunk of events that you should've been at. Felix rushing in after a late lecture that took more of his daunting time than it should have, he swung by you, only giving you a quick pat of a kiss on your forehead, before he rummaged his tote bag of schoolwork away on an empty counter. “You're in a rush,” you observed as he changed his button down into something that seemed far more relaxed and calm. “Uh yeah,” he hurriedly spat, focussing more on fixing himself up, “Oliver and I were gonna head to the pub with a few of the guys, celebratory post midterm drinks and all that.'' Oh, you tried your hardest not to sound letdown by the fact that you would probably spend the majority of the night alone on the sofa continuing to read a catalog you had zero interest in. Felix wanted to hurdle himself to the front door, but feeling tension in the air that was so strong he could cut it with a knife, he paused and glanced at your face that was slowly becoming struck with sorrow. In response, he slowly padded his feet towards you. “What's wrong?” His tone was relaxed and not full of distraction. You sighed, feeling guilty for stopping him in his tracks, “I just feel like I've been missing out on everything,” you found your mind speaking out loud, too late in stopping yourself from speaking the truth. “I miss going out with you, being carefree and reckless,” you pouted, feeling like a fussy child. “Oh, sweetheart,” he took a seat beside you, “I can assure you’re not missing anything, in fact, I'd rather be with you all the time.” it was true, Felix didn't care for his past ways, he was more occupied in his life with you and he'd never trade that for any sleazy party. He rested a loving hand on your stomach, “this is far more important to me.”
- Felix’s favorite pastime hobby with you would be picking out names for your little one. Dressed in nothing but cozy knee high socks and an oversized T-shirt, courtesy of Felix, you would lay a journal just above your bump as your attentive ears would listen to all the ideas sprouting from Felix, smiling as his quick mind came up with more suggestions. “Genevieve for a girl?” he gave you a weary smile, not feeling too confident. “It's beautiful, but too posh and old, no? He chuckled, “mum would have a field day with that one,” he exaggerated his expression, raising his pierced eyebrow before rolling his smitten eyes. “So that's a no, I presume,” you giggled as you crossed it out with your pen.
- Your shared moments that were filled with ambience of love were your favorite times. Soaking every ounce of alone time you could get with Felix because before you knew it, the simple times would turn into long sleepless nights—and not the ones you favored the most with him. Felix would run a bath filled with relaxing salts for you to lay in as he would wash your locks and all parts of your body for you, letting his hands do the work as your head would tilt back in ease, letting all your soreness peacefully exit. The moments spent in bed mainly included Felix resting his head on your bump, freely talking to your child as his voice carried you to sleep. “I love you and your mum so much,” he kissed your bare skin with his soft lips, hoping not to stir you out of sleep, “daddy cannot wait to meet you.”
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tiyoin · 3 months
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pt .3 | 📍pt. 4 | pt. 5
this chapter is disorganized cause i refuse to proofread
there was a festering rot in your heart….
you couldn’t explain it.
you were jealous, you were angry, you were frustrated. most importantly; you were tired.
the days mushed together the more you rotted in bed. your stomach seemed to shrink the less you ate, your eyes began to sag the less you slept.
grim has been a doll, really. always trying to drag you on adventures, always tugging you to go to the monstro with him, or just staying back with you to lay in bed.
the company was much appreciated.
yuu tried to help, they really did… but with being so popular there was only so much screen time the protagonist could give you.
there was some resentment.
and there were the reasoning you told yourself;
why didn’t they invite you out with them?
your social life isn’t their responsibility. they have a life outside of you.
how come they didn’t introduce you to their friends? the only ones you knew were adeuce
they’re allowed to have other friends too, sevens why are you so clingy??
why is it okay for them to do spontaneous plans, yet when you do it it’s a bad time?
they’re a busy bee, just like you’re supposed to be… so they have to work twice as hard when your mental health plummeted.
and yet they do it with a hearty smile a word of understanding. cheering you up momentarily with their kind yet blunt words. telling you to take all the time you mean and that they don’t mind any of the work. truly.
maybe it was guilt that stopping you from asking yuu to introduce you to their friends. i mean, they already do so much and yet here you are. a leech.
sucking off their social life, work life, and home life. maybe you weren’t made to have any friends? maybe you didn’t even deserve to be yuu’s friend.
the muffled sounds of the classroom slowly turned to whispers the more you walked along your brains pathways. the more you discovered more negative things about yourself.
why were you here? there could’ve been anyone else here and yet it was you. if there was someone else here they would be more social, everyone would be having a more fun time, and maybe they could be of use to yuu.
maybe they could’ve played more of a role in the overblots than you, after all you just planned it. the group deciding before hand to not let you in on any of the ‘dangerous missions’ that could get you seriously hurt.
yet that’s how they made friends with each other. if you could make friends that way, you would put the blot in people’s stones yourself.
you sighed, head shaking in silent disagreement.
you looked up at the board a few rows in front of you. it was history class, a class you rather enjoyed. albeit the times and dates weren’t my your favorites. but just hearing about all the events in the past, all the tragic wars, the culture, how people lived in the olden days with magic.
you could only daydream about being some kind of royalty and having lovers fight over your hand with a magical duel.
your imagination slowly started to slip into the chosen daydream.
“y/n!” trein’s face appears- alarm bells sounded through your head as you teared your eyes away from your textbook and resting them on the angry, old man.
“because you love the textbook so much, how about you tell us why kind na’jeri decided to stop the caravans from passing through oasis city for several hundred years after the war of ‘the watering hole’”
trein usual scowling face held a hint of amusement, eyebrow quirked up as the top of his lip started curling.
crap. fuck. you knew this. you knew this. after reading about the handsome king na’jeri you know exactly why he did that.
and yet… the question was wrong, the information was wrong. king na’jeri didn’t not just ban caravans from entering the city, he completely locked the city up. no one could get in or out for several hundred years all because of his paranoia.
yet you froze.
eyes staring back at him in horror as you felt your body heat up. you could physically feel the heat slowly travel along your neck and to your face. where you swore you were turning red with how much you were blushing.
you mouth gaped open a slightly closed, like a fish out of water as your eyes flickered between him and the board. between the board and your textbook.
“ you know this y/n.”
no the fuck you didn’t.
if you did then you wouldn’t be floundering like a fish to get an answer.
and it’s just your luck that the first day you came back to school you would get ambushed by trein. you have gym next and you were surely positive the ghost of vargas was haunting you through the classroom’s window.
YOU KNOW THIS
yet with each passing second more pens stopped and more eyes wandered to you. watching you.
you tightened your fist, suddenly feeling like a monkey in a zoo as all the humans picked and poked at you. laughed and sneered at you.
“u- uhh- uh, king na’jeri.. he ih, decided to close off the city to the car-caravans-“ you cleared your throat a phlegm and took a shallow, yet deep breathe.
deep enough for you to calm your nerves, shallow enough to not make your breathe look obvious.
“he decided to cut off all paths to the kingdom instead of just the kingdom itself. the king was ex-extremely paranoid that the devastation from the war, and another war would happen again if they let outsiders in.” you paused, quick to have your mind catch up.
trein just gave you a nod as the mischief left his face, he opened his mouth to keep going but you weren’t done.
“so-“
“go-
there was an awkward lash of sentence starters.
the boys sitting on either side of you tensed. it was never a good idea to cut off trein. ever. it was never a good idea to talk when he was teaching, let alone talking as that gave you a one way ticket to detention.
you apologized sheepishly, eyes breaking from his as you went to back to mindlessly scanning your textbook. trying to appear busy as you waited for you punishment.
“if you have something to add, then go ahead” looking up, trein gave you a nod as
“s-soo he didn’t just ban caravans from entering the city. in a book i read, they said that he prevented everyone from entering and leaving the city for several hundred years because the paranoia ate at his blood line. there were so many casualties that roughly around 40% of the population was wiped out so to prevent that, the king and the royal family decided to take radical measures..”
“beautifully put y/n.” he smiled, nodding in approval as a spark ignited through your chest, you fought back a giddy smile. you felt so energized. you content...
your smile faltered.
you can’t remember the last time you were so happy.
grabbing your pen, you went to your notepad and started taking notes. started doodling. started doing whatever to distract yourself from the feeling.
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“y/n, stay after class for me?” you paused, the grip you had on your thick textbook loosened. curling your fingers against the perked spine, you managed to save it before it crashed down onto your seat.
“ye- yea..” looking back, you shared a look with yuu as adeuce around them started chatting.
waving off the trio, you said you were fine and that they didn’t have to wait. you’d hate for them to miss lunch.
they started walking off the podium, as ace, yuu, and grim all bantering about something you didn’t bother to tune in for.
you weren’t involved in the conversation after all.
“hey y/n” you looked back up, no, down as you saw deuce in front of you. he had an uneasy look on his face as his arms were tightly holding his books against his chest. a little blush adorning his cheeks as he looked up.
“you’re more than welcome to come with us to the cafeteria, you know that right?”
puzzled at where this was coming from, your eyes watched the backs of the redhead and the ravenette as they laughed merrily through the doorway.
you looked back at a now determined deuce, “it get that it’s hard to adjust to a nice environment, believe i know” his smile faltered.
the eyes were the window to the soul as you saw nothing but compassion, understanding in the murky depths of his blue eyes.
the heat came back as you looked to trein. he was sat down at his desk writing. yet this pen seemed to hover too long in the air to be considered ‘writing.’
“i- uh, yeah!” you blurted out, nodding as that was the only thing you could trust yourself doing.
quickly packing up your stuff, you sped down the isle and down the steps and down to deuce.
you should’ve stayed up there, was the first thought you had once you were in front of the fellow freshman.
fixing your hair, you looked back to trein, whose pen was writing a mile a minute, showing no previous signs of stopping.
“ye- yeah! uh, i’ll definitely remember that!” you took another deep breath, finding the courage to once again look him in the eye.
it made everything too… real for you. your body surged uncomfortably as you once again thanked him. “i appreciate it deuce, truly”
the smile on your face felt so natural, so… real that you couldn’t help but look up at the crimson boy.
you could almost chuckle at how the color of his hair contrasted with the red paint on his face. it looks like they missed a rose.
“uh- ye- yeah! no problem! i’m gonna go now” and with that, he ran off.
not before tripping over himself, a loud screech from his sneakers echoing the lecture hall. he looked back bashful, before he sprinted out.
“i’ve never seen a boy in this class get so flustered. and me calling on them unprepared doesn’t count” you brought your attention back to trein.
and yet a horrifying thought bubbled in your head.
you didn’t pass the bechdel test.
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i got lazy. plus i have class el oh el
tag list: @xingyunny
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lume-nosity · 1 year
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‘i’ve got my eye on you.’
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characters: xiao, kazuha, tighnari, cyno, heizou, albedo, wanderer/scaramouche, venti, gorou
style: fluff, but very fluffy & comfy
song inspo: yes to heaven by lana del ray
an: dear diary, tonight i’ve found out that i’m insane for writing all of the short men. or at least write them in a semi-acceptable way. AND I REACHED THE 10 LIMIT PICTURE BULLSHIT SO I HAD TO MESS UP MY USUAL FORMATTING MY APOLOGIES IF THINGS LOOK DISORGANIZED AAA
notes: not proofread, gender neutral reader, some crack, lowercase intended, most likely ooc in some parts, genuinely did not know what i was doing when i’ve written this, reader being a lil sassy in xiao’s portion, petnames: love, dearest, dove, muse, darling
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xiao
“you could’ve gotten killed. why didn’t you call me sooner?”
“xiao, it was just a group of hilichurls.”
“it’s a group against one. they’d corner you and one of them will try to hurt you. the rest would follow suit.”
“well, what you said doesn’t matter anymore now that they’re all brutally slaughtered by you. they didn’t get the chance to do that.”
“…you really confuse me.”
xiao would lose it if someone or something laid one tiny little scratch on you. if it’s a serious injury bro will go ballistic.
if it’s a strong enemy, he’ll end their bloodline. if it’s a mere pigeon, get ready to have fowl for dinner.
him coming to you even though you didn’t call out his name was just pure coincidence.
he heard the sound of hilichurls so he followed the noises and there you were, getting surrounded by the hilichurls. his adrenaline kicked in.
he teleported to you and killed every single one of them swiftly.
he’s just worried about you, a little too worried for his own good. he can’t stand losing someone else, especially his partner.
so expect him to watch you from afar more often, to make sure you’re okay. he doesn’t have the intention of being creepy, he’s just your protector in the shadows.
he may not have experience in relationships, but he’s more than willing to learn by just being with you
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kazuha
“my dove, you ought to be more mindful of your surroundings.”
“i know, i know, i was spacing out and i didn’t think i’d walk into someone. i was that clumsy.”
“it was just an accident, and i’m sure the recipient understands. it’s a common accident, so you don’t need to think about it often as it’ll be forgotten afterwards. now then, i believe it’s time you need some rest. allow me to carry you to our room.”
even though he acts so chill on the outside, deep down he’s actually more worried about you.
that someone you bumped into was actually a fatui agent.
you and kazuha were casually strolling the streets of liyue until you started spacing out and bumped into the fatui agent. effectively making you fall on your ass and a little dizzy from the impact.
the agent wasn’t too happy about it, so they tried to attack you. kazuha didn’t let that happen though, as he predicted that attack years ago and blocked them with his sword.
you heard weapons clashing for a few seconds until there was pure silence. you rubbed your eyes and looked up at a solemn-looking kazuha with his hand reaching out to you. (when you asked what happened he passed it off as nothing, he didn’t want to concern you)
kazuha kept note to always accompany you in your travels no matter where you choose to go.
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tighnari
“you know you shouldn’t put your nose into things that are unfamiliar to you. especially items that may harm you. it astounds me how you’re this….”
“stupid? yeah”
“what? no, you’re not stupid.”
“then what?”
“you were unaware of the contents on the table and you’ve let your curiosity got the best of you. next time, let me know before you touch anything here, okay?”
tighnari would never and i mean never call you anything that would hurt you. sure, he can playfully tease you and be sassy with you, but not go as far to insult you. especially your knowledge.
he’s aware you’re smart in your own way, so he would never dream of insulting that. if someone were to insult you though, oh, he isn’t holding back.
about the item that you had the misfortune of peeking into, it was a sort of poison.
his ears flicker as he heard you coughing, and he rushes to you. dropping whatever he was doing at the moment to see you. it was a good thing he had an antidote on him for that poison, so he used it on you.
after you got back to your senses, he softly scolded you about ‘touching things that aren’t yours blah blah blah’
he didn’t leave your side that day and left his duties for collei to handle. nothing wrong with spending the rest of the day with your love, right?
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cyno
“sorry you had to go out of your way to save me again…for the fifth time this week. it must be getting annoying.”
“no, it’s never annoying to protect someone you cherish. it doesn’t matter if the issue at hand was unimportant or severe. your safety is my priority. on the plus side, these eremites were the ones i was originally going after. so thanks to you, i can rest easy. now that you’re safe and the eremites had been dealt with.”
“hm, actually i was wondering, out of those five attempts, how do you always manage to find me in a pinch? it’s almost as if you always know whether or not i’m in trouble or something.”
“….i’m afraid that is a secret, my love.”
much like xiao, he too is a protector in the shadows.
every time he’a gotten word you’re taking a trip to the desert for errands or anything along those lines, he will watch you like a hawk
he just wants to be absolutely sure you’re safe, because you’re on the top of his list of priorities.
if by chance he sees you in trouble, he’ll quite literally pounce from the shadows to pursue justice on the perpetrators.
it’s a double win in his favor. (would most likely joke about that to you too)
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heizou
“hey, are you alright?”
*you just waking up, regaining consciousness* “um, what happened?”
“oh, thank the archons, i thought you were a goner!”
“WHAT?”
“ah! right, let me explain. while we were out on a case to investigate on together, you got knocked out by some random treasurer! i for one am not in it for violence, but for your sake, i have beaten him up to a pulp and then called in someone to turn him in on our behalf. so now, you’ve just woken up.”
“….i did not understand a single thing you’ve just said.”
“hah, i believe it may be better that way.”
“why is that?”
“oh it’s nothing, it’s just a small occurrence that needed to be dealt with accordingly. anyways, now that you seem to be awake and well, shall we continue with our case, partner?
oh
my boy got away with murder /j
yes, he doesn’t like to resort to violence unless it had to come down to that.
but then again, for you? he’d fight the world with his bear fists
you guys are like partners in crime, so yes he’d go batshit crazy and panic if something were to happen to his beloved partner
would back out on a case that’s assigned to you both if it’s deemed to dangerous for you
even if you insist it’s fine, he wouldn’t buy that. because he loves you and doesn’t want to see you get injured, much like that encounter
most definitely flirts with you and input some pickup lines he has saved in his noggin. this may be irrelevant to the topic, but he’ll do this just to hide his worry for you
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albedo
“dearest, please don’t go running out in the cold again without having any winter-appropriate gear. i don’t wish to have you catching a cold.”
“bedo’, i’m alright! look, i’m feeling just fine!” (you sniff your nose)
“*sigh* come inside, i’ll cook you some warm soup.”
“what about that experiment you told me you were working on for the past few weeks?”
“that’s the least of my worries. right now, i’m more focused on your health. that i will prioritize first before my experiment.”
albedo is willing to pause his week-long experiment to look after you, what a lad.
would postpone it for as long as it takes for you to recover from your cold
he probably studies your face
it’s all for good intentions btw (for science)
gives you everything you need. more blankets? more soup? him?
oh yes he will definitely give himself to you (in terms of attention)
if he is needed for meetings or anything he’d have sucrose stand in for him, because he’d rather spend time on you than a meaningless meeting
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wanderer/scaramouche
“did you just-“
“ended them? sure as hell did.”
“you know you didn’t have to resort to extreme measures, right.”
“they had the audacity to belittle you in front of me. so i returned the gesture, tenfold.”
“okay but-“
“stop complaining, idiot. i did you a favor. next time, if you happen to find yourself in a situation like that again which i am certain it’ll happen, you should take notes from me.”
“wow, thanks for the advice.”
“my pleasure.”
love this asshat.
despite that rough exterior of his, that’s just his way of caring for you
spare him, he’s trying
he’s doing everything he can to show you he loves you despite it being a little challenging because he’s never experienced anything that involves being very close to humans
all his life he’s been resentful towards humans, but you’re the only one that stayed by his side.
which earned you a soft spot from him yippee!
he doesn’t admit it though, but that doesn’t stop him from loving you
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venti
“oh dear, you look a little worse for wear. say, have you finished yet another round of errands for people again?”
“venti, it’s normal for me. and it was only a few! you have nothing to worry about.” (passes out from exhaustion but venti catches you)
“ah, it’s usually me you need to carry around should i have a little too much to drink. but alas, it’s my turn to return the favor.”
(whispers and runs his fingers through the strands of your hair) “you should lay off on that habit of yours, my muse..”
yes i find it canon that you’ll always carry him around whenever he’s haggard
he’s definitely clingy, i know this has been said about him multiple times but it seems we all mutually agree on this statement
the type to play you calming melodies with his lyre as your resting face relaxes.
as you’re snoozing the night away, venti is right next to you, playing soft and soothing melodies on his lyre to sooth your slumber.
never leaves the room, holds your hand while you’re asleep. he doesn’t want to leave your touch for the night.
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gorou
“gorou.. what’s going on?”
“good morning, my love! i know you’ve just woken up from a good sleep but you must stay put in your bed for the day, because you need more time to revitalize yourself.”
“okay..wait. what about our comrades? the battle!? how long was i got knocked out for!?
“ah!- darling, shh…don’t worry! we had to retreat because we were clearly outnumbered and i was the one that called it. because after you got knocked out, and how the odds were against us at the time, i didn’t want you to get harmed in such a vulnerable state.”
“awww so even though you always long for victory, you called it quits just for me?”
“um- that’s!- oh fine, i’ll admit it. i was very worried about you during that battle, so i had to drop everything to carry you to one of our emergency shelters we have. and for that.. i chose to stick with you until you regain consciousness. her excellency allowed me to stay by your side, so it’s fine.”
“that’s… really sweet of you, it almost brings a tear to my eye”
“oh nonono don’t cry!!”
gorou, much like the rest of the workaholic smartasses here, would drop everything to spend time with you should you feel under the weather.
during your recovery, he’ll let you pet his ears and tail if it’ll entertain you/make you feel better
hear me out. when he tries to look after you during the night you’re resting, he flat out passes out next to you because of his exhaustion with his duties
which you can hear him snoring lightly, so you opened your eyes a little and pet his head with a smile on your face
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artists-ally · 1 month
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Hello sweetheart 😘 I really really adore your writing so much ! So, I dare to send in an idea as well 🥰 maybe you're dating Harvey but he barely had time for you lately, so one time he wants to surprise you with dinner at his apartment and you enjoy your time together. Then you both end your evening with lovely passionate smut and lots of cuddles afterwards. In the morning he wakes up before you and takes time in admiring you, realizing how happy he is to have you ? Hope that's not too cheesy ❤️ thank you so much in advance!
{Warm} Reader x Harvey Specter
This has been sitting in my inbox for god knows how long. I thank you for your patience my dear. I love this idea so much, and this song Warm by SG Lewis is just perfect. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it. P.S. nothing is EVER too cheesy for me to write <3
Word Count: 3,998
Warnings: Just some good ole fluff and smut, some very soft dom!Harvey.
Tagging: @rosedpetal @blacktreacle22
Summary: After a particularly brutal month in the office, you've noticed some changes. Harvey is just... not present. Rather than demanding his attention, you just simply float by, knowing eventually he'll return his negligence. And boy does he ever.
~~~~~
“Yn, you really just need to grow a set and tell Harvey he’s being a jackass,” Donna scolds through the phone.
I roll my eyes, “Donna, I told you before. I don’t mind. He’s focused on winning this case, and it quite literally is the life and death of this firm. So, while I appreciate your ‘words of affirmation’, I didn’t ask for them.”
“I know, I just hate to see you so neglected.”
“Oh please,” I pff, flipping my head to move a chunk of hair out of my eye. “Neglected is probably the last thing I am. I can entertain myself. I actually haven’t minded the space. Every once and a while it’s good to go back to the basics. I’ve finally learned how to take care of the plants, I can make a mean lasagna too. I’ve even gotten back into reading. For fun.”
“Sheesh, clearly something is wrong if you’ve been reading voluntarily.”
I snickered. “I don’t know, I saw a book recommendation on instagram and fell in love. Childhood penpals turned strangers, turned back to penpals and she found out he’s the world's biggest rock star and he’s been writing songs about her the entire time.”
“Sounds exactly like the fairytale mushy-gushy shit you love. How you found Harvey to fill those shoes I’ll never understand.”
“He’s just… I don’t know, exactly what I need? My life is perpetually disorganized and he’s too organized. We balance each other out. It just works, and I love our life. I love our dynamic, and I love him. Since he’s so busy, and I have the energy and mental space to, I don’t mind picking up the slack. Again, things will balance themselves back.”
Donna sighed, and I knew that flat line was on her lips. “I know, you’re always so insightful. Optimistic bitch.” I cackled a laugh. “But in all seriousness, Harvey needs you. You’re right, he is too organized. He needs you to unwind him. I know how he is, and he needs a kick in the ass every once in a while. So, if by the end of the week, he doesn’t come around a little, just push him. He’ll fold. Especially for you, and that ass of yours.”
A smile bloomed onto my face, the door of our apartment building coming into view. “Thanks Donna, I’ll let you know how tonight goes. Maybe I’ll stop by the office in the morning and bring the crew some coffee, a few bagels as well.”
“This is why you will always remain my favorite. Now go eat that Chinese food, you sexy son of a bitch.”
“How did you know I had Chinese food?” 
“Because I’m Donna.” Then the line went dead.
Psycho. My psycho, but still a psycho. 
I did indeed have a takeout bag hooked in my elbow filled with Chinese food. Sesame chicken and wonton soup for me, beef and broccoli with pork lo-mein for Harvey. I got a small order of pork fried rice and some scallion pancakes to share. I was about ten seconds away from crouching in an alley and eating myself into a coma. 
The city streets were just beginning to fill up with Friday night festivities. Those heading to lavish dinners or exotic clubs, dressed to the nines with pristine hair and outfits. I looked down at my beat up orthopedic sneakers that kept the never ending foot pain of being a museum tour guide at bay. Here I was, surrounded by the most eccentric and busy place on earth, with absolutely nothing to do.
And that felt amazing. 
I scurried up the steps to the apartment building, greeting our doorsman with a smile and a wave. He gave me one back, pulling open the big glass doors. The mild April chill vanished and the comfortable, still air caressed my cheeks. The elevator door chimed open, chimed closed, and ascended to the top. 
21… 22… 23… the floors climbed and climbed. What was I going to watch? The new season of Bridgerton was out, I could watch that. No, the next season can’t possibly be as good as Charlottes. Maybe a movie? Didn’t that second Dunne one come out? I’m not sure I understand the first one enough to comprehend the second. 
The ding sounds, and I step off, juggling my keys as I rattle off more ideas in my head. 
There's always The Big Bang Theory, maybe Two Broke Girls? Nah, I’ve seen those a thousand times. Maybe I should watch something new. No, nothing sounds interesting. I could try to read, but I don’t wanna risk spilling anything on my book. Once in third grade, I was eating a bowl of cereal in the morning, and I spilled the entire thing on my book. If You Give A Mouse A Cookie was never the same again. 
When the door opened, I toed off my sneakers, kicking them in the corner. I threw the keys in the bowl and hummed a song aimlessly. In the kitchen, I pried a plate out of the cabinet and began to spoon food onto my plate. I won’t tell Harvey, but I stole some of his lo-mein. 
“Yn,” a voice spoke. 
I spun so hard I knocked my hip into the kitchen island corner, a scream bubbling out. “Jesus fucking christ Harvey! You could warn me next time, fucking hell.” 
My heart thrashed in my chest, my eyes going a little wonky from adrenaline. I swallowed, bending at the waist to catch my breath.
“Sorry, my love,” he smiled, coming to raise me from my hunched over position. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“A simple text would’ve been lovely,” I sighed, rising to my full height. “What the hell are you doing…”
All words died on my tongue as I looked around. The table was decorated with a white cloth, candles skewed about. There were flowers in a vase on the counter, beside it a card with two small boxes. There was champagne chilling in a metal bucket of ice, a box of chocolate covered strawberries and cherries next to it. 
“Harvey, what’s all this for? Our anniversary isn’t for two months.”
He grinned, that smirk going right to my chest. “No, it’s not.”
“Then what's all… this?” I waved my hand around, noticing a few balloons blown up and taped to the archway. I somehow completely missed the rose petals lining the floor. 
“It’s because I love you,” Harvey grabbed my hips, pressing our fronts together. “You’ve been… dealing with me for weeks now. My absence, my constant mood swings and lashing out. And I know what you’re gonna say-”
“That I know you’ve been stressed and need some time to focus on the case?”
Harvey tilted his head, a flat expression on his lips. “Yes. That.” 
“It’s not a big deal, Harvey. I know how important work is to you, and I know that you’ve really needed to focus so the firm doesn’t crumble and-”
“But I need you to know that you are a thousand times more important than work,” he says, placing his palms on my cheeks. He kisses me softly, stealing the air from my lungs. “Then the firm,” another kiss.  “And anything that has to do with that hellscape. I love you, Yn. And I don’t know what I would do without your constant flexibility with my chaotic life. So this is a very small token of my appreciation. The first part, at least.”
I hummed against his lips, letting my arms lay across his shoulders. I kiss him deeply. “The first part?”
“Mhmm,” he nodded, hands falling down my back, a less than PG-13 flex of his hands on my ass. “First, I want you to open those little boxes. Then, we’re gonna eat and have some dessert.”
“I feel like there's more to this list,” I smile, making my way back to the counter to get our food. One second to the next, Harvey gripped my arm and pulled me back into his chest. I could feel his desire pressing into me. “Looks like I’m right.”
“You’re always right,” he whispered, breath tickling my ear. He kissed the side of my neck, leaving a little bite below my ear. “Go sit, I’ll get the food.”
A new thrill fueled my body, propelling my steps to the dining room. I sat, playing with the end of the table cloth as Harvey brough everything over. The champagne, the card, the boxes and the food. Before he made his way to his seat, his palm cupped my neck and he tilted my head back. His deep, lust filled eyes locked with mine before he kissed me again. 
“Open whichever you’d like, darling,” he sat opposite me, tucking the napkin across his lap. 
“Just because I did what anyone would for their love doesn’t mean you need to shower me with gifts, Harvey,” I said, giving him a pointed look. 
“And if I bought them just because I wanted to?” 
Point taken. I read the card, a picture of a polar bear wearing sunglasses on a beach with a coconut in its hand plastered on the front. 
Classy. It made me giggle nonetheless.
To my Yn,
Thank you. I’m sorry. I love you. Thank you for being here, even when I wasn’t. I’m sorry for my absence, I promise I’ll be more conscious of my time spent at the office. I love you, more than I ever thought I’d ever be able to love anything. You are everything I’ve always wanted, and everything I never knew I’d need. After this last month, I didn’t understand just how badly I craved you. Your smile, your laugh, your warmth. The taste of you in the morning, and those adorable snores at night. No matter how many times I do it, I’ll never get tired of kissing you. Never tire of taking your breath away. I’ll never get sick of you being the first thing I see when I wake up, and the last thing before I sleep. 
You are forever entwined in my soul, Yn. And I wouldn’t dare to imagine it otherwise. 
I love you. <3 Harvey
I looked up at him, tears lining my eyes. He just winked at me, fork scraping his plate as he shoved a mouthful in. 
“Fuck you for that,” I sniffled, brushing away the tears as I blinked. “That was so uncalled for, you didn’t need to do that to me. That’s so unfair.”
He smiled, “I know you love that shit. And before you ask, Donna didn’t come near me when I was writing that. It all came from up here.”
I laughed as he touched the side of his head. “Good to know all those years at Harvard Law taught you something other than corporate jargon.”
“Open the boxes, little devil,” he sipped his champagne, nudging the boxes towards me. 
Both were a dark blue velvet, unlabeled. They were closed with a silver ribbon. The first one I grabbed was about the size of a book, and something rattled inside. I undid the bow, lifting the lid. Inside was a Kindle. I gasped, pulling it out and looking it over. 
“Harvey,” I grinned, mouth falling open. “You did not.”
“But I did,” he smiled brightly. “Unlimited.”
I could jump his bones from across the table. “Have I ever told you how much I love you?”
“Well, after you find out I got you a case, a Pop Socket, and one of those stands with the remote clicker so you don’t even have to hold it, you might love me a little more.” I squealed, pushing out of my chair as I crashed into him. We nearly tipped backwards. Harvey laughed, rubbing my sides as I latched onto him. “I knew you’d appreciate this. I know we haven’t been together much, but I remembered you showed me a video of some girl who had one.” “You remembered that?” A new set of tears choked my voice. 
“Of course I did. And I also remember you telling me that if I bought you another set of earrings you’d use them to pierce my ears, so that option went out the window.”
I swatted his chest, Harvey’s smile easy as he eased me off of him. “This is perfect, thank you so much.”
“Of course, my dear. Now open the next one.”
What could be better than a Kindle Unlimited? With a stand AND a remote to turn the pages for me. Harvey has no idea what he’s done, I’ll literally never get out of bed again. 
Practically ripping the box in half, I take off the lid and peer inside. 
I blink a few times, looking from him to the box. “My passport?”
“Yup.”
“I feel like there is something I’m not getting here.”
“There is.”
“Are you gonna tell me or make me guess?”
“I’m not that mean,” he rolled his eyes. 
“I mean you have been ignoring me for the past month,” I feigned being upset, letting out a little yelp when he threw a piece of broccoli at me. “You're literally four years old.”
“We’re going to China.”
Everything stopped moving. I dropped the box, my small, navy blue passport skittering across the floor. My ears buzzed, my fingers buzzed. “I- What?”
Harvey grinned. Fuck, I missed that grin. “We’re going to China. We won the case last night, and I am desperate for some time with you. You’ve always wanted to go, so why not now? I have everything set up. We’re gonna stay in the mountains, we’re gonna go hiking and see some shows. I also know you’ve wanted to-”
“We’re going to China?” I had to make sure I heard him right? I’ve been learning the language for years now, engrossed with their rich culture and history. The cuisine, the art, the music… everything. Had I been in a different timeline, I would’ve moved there. 
“Yes, my love. We’re going to China. Two weeks.”
“Two weeks?” My eyes nearly fell out of my skull. “I can’t take two weeks off of-”
“Yn,” he cut me off, knowing I was going to spiral into a never ending list of reasons of 'why this and why that'. “It’s all been taken care of. All you have to do is pack a bag and get you cute ass in my car on Sunday morning. Don’t worry about anything else.”
“But-But Harvey… what the FUCK? WE’RE GOING TO CHINA? Oh my god, I have to call Donna.”
“Can you call Donna tomorrow? I have other things I’d like to do before you go blabbering to her about how amazing and awesome I am for planning this.”
I eyed him suspiciously. “Donna planned this, didn’t she?"
“She did find the panda place. And the art festival. But everything else was my doing. You can applaud now.” Cocky, arrogant son of a bitch. My cocky, arrogant son of a bitch, but one nonetheless.
I looked at him, dumbfounded. He did all this for me, just because he had a crazy workload. I feel like it should be the opposite, me pampering him, congratulating him on his huge win. Not him fueling my book obsession and planning my dream trip. 
But it was yet another reason I loved him more and more every day. He just did these things, without prompting. Without need. He felt like he was neglecting me, leading to… all of this. 
We ate our dinner, chatting about anything other than the case. I asked about it, twice, and he completely side-stepped my attempt. I wanted to know, but if he didn’t want to talk, I wouldn’t push. I told him the plot of this terrible Mafia romance book I finished earlier in the week, and he listened to every grating, awful point I made about it. All with a dopey smile on his face. 
Harvey cleared the plates, setting them in the sink. He brought more champagne, the strawberries and the cherries. In a calm silence, we devoured them, eyes raking over each other. I risked a look below the table, seeing just exactly where he wanted the next phase of the night to go. 
“You looking at it makes it worse, you know,” Harvey leaned back in his chair, my legs propped in his lap. He stroked his hand up and down, fingers dipping into one of the holes in my jeans. 
“Good,” I smiled, a sinful intent in my eyes. 
He looked from my smile to my eyes and back down. With a curse, he threw my legs off his lap and pulled my chair close to his. Harvey enveloped his mouth with mine, the sweet taste of chocolate mixed with the sour berry and tarte champagne. Every flavor on his tongue became my own. 
I was in his lap the next second, legs folded against his thighs. Harvey kept me firmly planted. Steady. He wouldn’t dare let me fall. I got lost in him, suddenly aware just how long it had been since I truly had him. Truly tasted him. Truly craved him.
He stood, taking me with him. The familiar route to our bedroom whirled by. I landed on the bed with a soft bounce, tugging on the collar of his shirt until he laid on top of me.
“So demanding,” he whispered on my lips. I wrapped my legs around his hips to emphasize my need. “Fuck… I love it when you get like this.”
“You made me this way, Harvey,” I pleaded, eyes catching him. 
“I’m sorry I haven’t been able to give you what you deserve,” Harvey sighs. It’s not heavy, but it’s noticeable. “Let me take care of you, Yn.”
“I just need you to-”
“I know, my love. Let me worship you. Treat you how you deserve. You’ve been so patient with me, now let me return the favor.”
Well, I’d be stupid to deny him.
Delicately, he kissed down my torso, lifting my shirt over my head and throwing it for tomorrow's problem. He removed my socks, then my jeans. From ankle to knee, he kissed and bit my skin, making me squirm against the sheets.
Every nerve ending in my body was on fire, the tips of my fingers and toes pulsing with anticipation. With the last remaining pieces of my clothes gone, he spread my legs, kneeling to the ground. 
The sight of Harvey Specter on his knees between my thighs was… empowering. Not that he hasn’t tasted me with his tongue, I’ve just… always been on top. Never so… exposed.
A heady sigh left my lips, body going lax with the first pass of his tongue on me. I clenched my legs against his ears, muffling my whines. He pushed them against the mattress, eyes pinning me as he sank his teeth into the muscle of my thigh. 
“You know better than to hide those pretty moans from me, my love.” Yes, I do know better. “Scream my fucking name if you want.”
I just might. 
He made quick work of me, practiced movements easily sending me up and up and up. He’d slow back down, torture me with more bruising marks on my thighs while I writhed and begged for him to let me release. I arched up off the bed when he added his fingers.
I was so close, a month's worth of pent up desire threatening me all at once. My mind and body were on fire. I couldn’t hold off any longer. I chase that high, circling my hips against his face. His hands, firmly planted on my inner thighs, I shook, that month long ache finally subsiding before roaring back to life. 
When I thought he’d stop, he kept going. Around and around and around his tongue went. Teasing and sending an endless supply of pleasure through my body. 
“H-Harvey,” I gasped, my body up in flames over his never ending devotion.
“I’ll stop when I want to. Fuck Yn, you taste so sweet. Almost as sweet as hearing you beg for me to let you cum. Can you take one more?”
Again, I nodded, content to let him spend however long he wanted at my aching core. My second release came much sooner than the first. He didn’t bother teasing me, knowing it would ruin all his hard work if he stopped. With a few more sweeping passes, he licked me clean, sitting back on his heels to look at me. He wiped my cum off on the back of his hand, giving me a wicked grin.
“You are so fucking beautiful, all laid out for me to do as I please,” Harvey said, beginning to strip. 
“Please Harvey, have me. Any way that you like.”
He chuckled, kneeling over me. “I will, but like I said, I want tonight to be all about you.”
“Well I want you to fuck me.” I am not very good at being subtle. 
“How can I deny you when you ask so nicely,” he purred, closing our lips together, I parted my legs for him, desperate for the friction of his body on mine. His chest, his stomach, his hands lacing with mine. I needed all of him all over me. 
It didn’t take long for him to slip inside me, every inch of him stretching me in the most desirable way. I hummed as he stilled, his need clear in the way his arms shook to keep still. 
“Move, please please move,” I begged, threading my hand in his hair. With a reluctant drop of his head, he rolled his hips into mine, our bodies finally meeting in full. 
“I was trying to be gentle,” he reasoned. 
“Fuck gentle, I need you. I’ve missed you so much.”
“I know my love, I know.”
With each thrust into me, a new sensation bubbled inside me. My toes curled, my back bowed, my eyes fluttered shut. He quickened his pace, heavy breaths falling from his lips into mine. His air was mine. Every muttered curse and moan and praise went straight through me. He needed me as much as I needed him.
~~~~~
With my mind not fully awake, I lazily fling myself off my stomach and onto my back. My arm knocked into something hard, and I squinted against the morning sun. Oh, Harvey.
“Sorry,” I mumbled, crashing back down against the pillow. 
He chuckled, kissing the hand that accidentally hit him in the face. “It’s okay.”
“Are you going into the office?” I asked, still keeping my eyes closed. Man this bed is so comfy…
“No?” He said, a question in his tone. “Why would I?”
“Why else are you up so early?”
“I was just looking at you, my love. It’s been a while since I’ve just… looked at the love of my life. Taken the time to appreciate just how fucking stunning you are.”
My heart melted, a lovesick feeling welling up in my chest. I turned over, facing the handsome lawyer and grinned ear to ear. “I’m sure I look fabulous after last night.”
“You’ve never looked hotter. Lips swollen from mine, hair a mess from my hands… your body covered in my-”
“Okay,” I snatched his lips between my fingers, silencing his next words. “I did just wake up, at least let me shower before you destroy me again.”
“Only if I can quote on quote destroy you in the shower before I cook you breakfast and fuck you again on the counter.”
My eyes snapped open, meeting his blown out pupils. “You certainly have a vivid imagination for…” I looked over at the clock on the side of the bed. “... eight thirty-seven AM.”
“Wait till you find out I’ve been awake since six. With nothing to do but plot all the ways I could ruin you.”
I rolled my eyes playfully, offering my lips as a peace offering. He quickly accepted, kissing me deeply. “Man, I missed this.”
“More than you could ever know.”
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pedgito · 2 years
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rentals & records ✧ ˚ · . eddie munson x fem!reader.
summary: eddie can't hide the fact that he's sort of obsessed with you, but you can't deny that you might be secretly obsessed with him too.
cw: 18+ content (minors, shoo!), fem!reader, oral sex (f&m receiving), soft sex, virgin!eddie
word count: 11.4k. someone shut me up pls.
request are always open!
“I really need to know who rents this thing out so much that the entire cover is starting to fall apart.” Steve’s holding up a horrible worn out version of a Cheech & Chong movie you can’t decipher the title of. You squint, hard. It was pretty faded, pun absolutely intended. Reefer Rick was still in prison, so that counted him out immediately—there could be only one other culprit.
The familiar clang of the entrance bell startled you half to death, sending you whipping around to look behind you.
“Harrington! How’s it been?” Eddie Munson, of course.
“Eddie.” Steve nods in greeting, sounding exhausted already. You kick him in the shin, eyes sending him a look of warning when he yelps in pain. “What brings you in?”
You three already knew the answer to that question. It was you. Eddie had used every reason under the sun to find a way to come visit you while you were working. It was kind of endearing, you couldn’t lie. But, Eddie was a friend. He had always been just a friend.
“Just returning a rental.” Eddie replies, waving the VHS above his head.
“I’ve got it.” You assure Steve, who couldn’t be bothered to leave the mess of already disorganized rentals he had to sort through. You couldn’t tell if it was the girl trouble—or lack thereof, that Steve was having that was causing him to be in such a slump, or the general lack of disinterest in his job.
“Eddie.” Your voice is dripping with sweetness, fingertips dragging along the counter as you scoot in behind the front desk. “Just returning?”
“Might take a quick look around, if you don’t mind.” He tells you, hands shoved into his front pockets. “Unless you’ve got some suggestions, princess?”
You let out a soft ‘hmph’, shaking your head at the nickname he had come up with. It started sophomore year of high school, a shitty jab at how prissy you acted—a lot of that was part of hanging around with the wrong crowd. But, now you had Steve—you balanced each other out pretty well. The word felt different coming from his mouth now, a lot less bite behind it. You had always been friends, but never close enough that you spent time with him outside of school or sat with him at lunch, to busy with the swarm of girls that flocked around each other, you being suck right into the center of it all. That didn't stop the dizzying feeling you felt every time he set his eyes on you.
“I’m fresh out.” You assure him with a playful smirk, you hesitantly point in Steve’s direction. “But, we just got one of your favorites back in, if you wanna rent it out.”
“My favorite?” He teases, curling a stray strand of hand around his finger. It was almost criminal how beautiful his hair was, never a piece out of place, a true work of art. “You keepin’ tabs on me?”
“It’s in the system, Eddie.” It was his most frequented rental and always came back reeking of weed—something you didn’t even know to be possible. “You’ve rented it out sixteen times.”
“Oh.” He deflated slightly—he seemed a little ashamed, maybe? You didn’t find it weird, not really—there’s no way you could admit how many times you’ve watched The Breakfast Club, something you would carry with you to the grave.
“Steve!” You shout, grabbing his attention. Your head nods in the direction of Eddie—and like Steve was a mind reader, tosses the rental in your direction. You catch it with ease, tossing it on the counter. A stoner’s favorite, that was for sure.
“You rent these out to high school students?” Eddie asks from an obscure corner of the store—“Robocock. Huh, that’s fucking hilarious.”
Steve’s at a loss for words, glancing at you from his hiding spot, surfing through his ever growing pile. You stifle that laugh that comes out at the sight of his horrified face. You didn’t understand why Steve looked so scandalized when you knew he snuck out the adult film rentals on a regular basis. He just wasn’t as sneaky as he thought he was.
“You’re twenty, Eddie.” You remind him, “Not seventeen.”
He shrugs, tossing it back on the shelf. “Got any new releases?”
You think for a moment, “No, not for the past few weeks. I guess you’ll just have to suffer through a few more rewatches of those ridiculous little stoner movies you like.”
“Hey, not ridiculous.” His ringed finger is pointing in your direction, he’s slowly making his way back toward the cash register, glancing aimlessly down the aisle, eyes not really landing on anything in particular—except for you. “They’re a cinematic masterpiece.”
Entirely too unconvinced, you hold your hand out, waiting for him to slide over his ID. “You just gotta give ‘em a try, I swear.” He adds, setting the card in your hand gently.
He’s got the biggest grin on his face, which wasn’t out of the norm for him, but his eyes lingered on your for a little too long and that last thing you wanted to think was that it was meant entirely for you. Because no, absolutely not. You could not handle another boy wrecking your life, right now.
“No, Robocock?” You tease, the word sounds even more lewd than you had intended.
While you had never partaken in the content yourself, you were aware. You just couldn’t handle the cheesy lines and horrible faked situations that ended with someone getting pounded over an object that looked way too uncomfortable to be spread out over—they were a hard, hard no.
You clear your throat awkwardly, realizing how caught off guard Eddie looked—like you had insulted his all time favorite metal band and shit on his choice of music all in one go—you could never shit on Eddie’s music choice, not when you indulged in the same songs on a daily basis. But really, he was at a loss of words.
“Maybe next time.” He says slowly, trying to recover from whatever the fuck just happened.
“Sweet.” You drag out, attempting to input the rental information into the decrepit contraption in front of you, waiting for what felt like hours for it to finally rise from the dead. “And you’re good, here—“
“Are you busy this weekend?” Eddie asks suddenly, jarring you out of reality for a moment. His voice quieter, like he was hoping Steve wouldn’t be able to hear.
“Yeah, actually.” You tell him. It wasn’t an excuse, you were working a double shift to cover Steve’s ass because you were an amazing friend who cared about their well-being and ability to potentially help your friend get laid. “I have to work all weekend.”
“Oh—sounds like torture.” He jokes, tapping the VHS idly against the counter. He looks like he wants to say something, but he doesn’t, and you hate how disappointed that makes you feel. “I guess I’ll be seeing you again this weekend then, princess.”
“Can’t wait.” You reply teasingly, causing Eddie to chuckle quietly in response. “God knows I’ll be boring myself to death all weekend.”
“I’ll be your knight in shining armor, no worries.” He adds, adjusting the front of his jacket, displaying the infamous Hellfire Club tee he dawned underneath.
“I’ll hold you to that.” You wiggle a finger at him, watching intently as he made a show of swinging a fake sword, walking backwards toward the door, not realizing that he was about to run smack into another customer.
“Hey, fuckin’ watch it, kid.” A much older man shouts, shoving past Eddie. You can’t help but laugh.
⋆.ೃ࿔*:・
Your shift at Family Video on Saturday is entirely too uneventful, aside from the two underage kids who tried to sneak in and steal some of the content from the adult section, which then promptly ended in them being embarrassed by half of the store during one of the busier hours of the day. You shooed them away quickly and suffered through the rest of that god forsaken shift—boy, was that a story for Steve.
Thankfully, Sunday comes quickly and you’re shuffling out of your house at the speed of light, trying to make it before opening time to set up the store in peace.
“Don’t forget, sweetheart—I need you to cover the store for a few hours while I’m gone tonight.” Your dad spoke, stopping you at the front door. You nod your head fervently, assuring him that he had nothing to worry about.
“Gotcha, I’ll make sure to lock up everything, don’t worry.”
He was definitely going to remind you about ten more times.
He owned a small record store on the corner of downtown, right across from the frequently visited supermarket that almost the entire town went to. It was great for business, amazing in fact, always bringing back the old customers, but happily welcoming in the new ones. It was his prized possession and probably the only reason you leaned so heavily into loving music.
You spend an hour setting up shop at Family Video—wiping down counters, checking on any new stock, and finally settling down into a spot to sort through rentals that either needed to be thrown out or re-shelved. It was monotonous, but enough to keep you busy—busy enough that the store had already been open for at least a half hour, you not even bothering to flip on the neon sign that hung from the front window of the store.
“This might help.” The familiar voice says,, nearly scaring the life out of you. You grasp your chest in horror, falling ass first onto the floor. “Shit—sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you like that.”
“Jesus, Eddie—the fuck is wrong with you?” You ask, standing at full height, the top of your head barely reaching his nose. “You cannot sneak up on people like that.”
“I figured you heard me come in—plus, the doors were unlocked.” Fair point. Still, you were annoyed. “Really, you okay?”
“Yeah.” You huff, smoothing the dust off of your pants and adjusting the horrible, itchy work vest you wore. “Just, please—never do that again.”
“Cross my heart.” Eddie replies endearingly, hand pressed against his chest. He leans forward, noticing the small button on your vest that read ‘Ask me about Science Fiction!’, he flicks it amusingly.
“So, any good suggestions for me today?” He asks, “maybe something science fiction-y?” Eddie’s fishing for something, you’re just not sure what. You steal the previous rental from his hands, placing it on the counter.
“I would suggest Star Wars, but I think that’s an obvious one—you’ve probably already seen it.” You travel down the row, Eddie not very far behind.
“I haven’t.”
Your mouth practically drops to the floor in shock—of course Eddie hadn’t seen it, this man knew of three things—weed, heavy rock music, and more weed.
“What? Is that bad?” His eyebrow is quirked up inquisitively, bracing both hands against the top of surrounding rows.
“It’s a fucking crime, Eddie.” You slap the rental into his chest, grabbing his hand to force it into his hold and out of yours.
He’s laughing, turning on his heels to follow you obediently. Truly, he just hadn’t found the time to actually sit down and enjoy it, it wasn’t entirely his fault.
“So, Star Wars—check.” He lists off, “Anything else?”
“You should probably start off slow.” You suggest coyly, patting his arm. “No need to over indulge, then you won’t be able to put them down.”
That was his problem exactly. He’d overindulged into you and now—he just couldn’t quit, he had to know everything. Likes, dislikes, why you always came to school with such a sour puss look on your face, or why you always ate lunch in your car instead of inside the cafeteria—why you always made sure to bump into him in the hallway just to find a reason to speak to him in front of his friends (okay, maybe you definitely went out of your way to talk to him as often as you could.) —not that he cared, but he wasn’t losing his mind when he noticed that his interest wasn’t completely one-sided.
And yeah, maybe Eddie was just what you needed, but boys—boys were off limits. School, work, home. That’s how your life worked and it worked well. Routine was the only thing that kept you on such a straight line. Aside from that freshman hook up with Jason, then Jay from Band class, and that one—very quick—time with Aaron from Physics, there was also the other Erin—in contrast, she’d been an absolute dream to experience, both as a friend and someone who you felt safe enough sharing some of your firsts with. So maybe you weren’t as focused as you should’ve been—but you were trying, that counted, right?
“Princess,” Eddie’s voice brings you back to the surface, his fingers snapping in your face to break you from the trance you had fallen in, “time to come back to the land of the living.”
“Sorry,” You smile sheepishly, “What were you saying?”
He has the nerve to look smug, the faintest trace of a smirk on his face. “I didn’t say anything. You just went blank and—“ He waves his hands wildly in your direction, as if that made any sense.
You try to calm your thoughts, your mind, focusing yourself with the task at hand—get Eddie Munson out of here as soon as possible.
“Got that spare copy of Robo—“ You pull the copy of the horrible named porno from under the desk where you had left. That section was a nightmare to sort through. “Oh, well there was supposed to be a joke there—but now I forgot.” He seemed caught off guard by the idea that you already knew exactly what he was gearing to say. “You hidin’ it for yourself or something?”
“God no.” You scoff, typing idly. “I never step foot in that area of the store—that’s all Harrington’s domain.”
Eddie extends his hand out, making a soft grabbing motion toward the object in your hand. You offer it up cautiously, watching as he saunters over to the section and plopped it right back into the spot it belonged.
Well, that was one way to make the job easier. Actually—
“Hey, are you busy right now?” It’s a shot in the dark, but it’s still worth it.
“Depends on why you’re asking.” Eddie says slowly, palms resting against the counter upon his return. He’s eyeing you carefully, you try not to look away.
“I could use the help sorting,” You start, pointing at the pile you hadn’t even made a dent in yet, “and I’ve gotta cover a shift at the record store in a few hours, so I’d really like to get this shit done, preferably today.”
“Record store? The one over by Bradley’s Big Buy?” Eddie perked up out of nowhere. “I go there all the time.”
“Yeah.” You reply is slow, methodical. “My dad owns it.”
“No fuckin’ way.” If Eddie was trying to hide the fact that you may have just become his favorite person ever, he was doing a terrible job. His eyes lit up like a kid on Christmas morning.
“You know what—you help me get through all of this before my shift ends and I’ll let you sift through the storage in the back of the record shop where we keep the real gems, let you take a few as a reward for your hard work. Deal?” You hold out your hand, waiting for the deal to be set in stone.
“Oh, hell yeah.” Eddie says, shaking your hand firmly.
⋆.ೃ࿔*:・
The keys jingle as you fiddle with the lock on the door. Eddie’s feet doing a soft pitter-patter behind you. He was antsy as hell, more so than you had ever seen him. It was driving you insane—you turn abruptly to look at him.
“Eddie, seriously—I’m going to have to strap you to a chair if you don’t stop.” He didn’t think you were serious, but you were absolutely willing to do whatever was needed.
“Sorry.” He says softly, the shuffling coming to a stop a few moments after. You offer him a warm smile, finally managing to force the lock to turn, opening the back entrance to the shop.
The smell was something you could never forget. It was similar to the smell of old books, mixed with the sweet smell of cinnamon. The small area that encased the back of the store was for employees—a lounge area fit for a few people with a small kitchenette attached. You glance back at Eddie, who hadn’t moved from the spot he was in. You grab for his wrist, gently yanking him inside and shutting the door behind you.
“When I said stop I didn’t mean freeze.” You joke playfully, continuing to hold onto the sleeve of his jacket as you tug him through the rest of the way, turning another corner to reach the storage room. “A few rules—none of the boxes off the top shelf, mostly because I don’t want you hurting yourself and I have no idea how sturdy those things are and two, you don’t speak a word of this to anyone—not a single soul, Eddie Munson.”
“Heard, boss.” He nods eagerly.
“Voila.” Throwing your hand out to the side fancifully, allowing him a grand entrance into the only sacred part of this building.
If anyone found out about this, you were surely dead.
“There’s a few first editions in here, some misprints, a lot of represses and remasters—it’s a lot so just…have at it.” Eddie’s holding his hands close to his body, afraid that if he touches anything it was going to disintegrate into a pile of dust, which was very well possible.
“Personally, I’d go with a copy of Ozzy or Iron Maiden, these are almost impossible to get your hands on.” You pull out the two covers simultaneously, parading them out for show. His smile is genuine, but it doesn’t seem to be what he’s looking for.
He scans around for a minute before finally stopping on a box a few feet away. “Aha!” Eddie exclaims, holding the piece up in front of him. “Found you.”
Metallica. You should’ve known. It was a damn good album, even you could attest to that. “Good choice.” You nudge him gently, sifting through the box in front of him. If he wants to say something, he doesn’t. Eddie bites his tongue, for once. It was way too much to unpack in one evening—the idea of some popular priss of the school like you even recognizing how absolutely metal this album was.
“Actually, I think I’ll stick with this.” Eddie tells you, following your lead as you exited the storage room. He didn’t want to be greedy or take advantage of the situation and you were fine with that, it was nice, actually. You couldn’t remember the last time you had ever managed to have a conversation with a boy that didn’t end with him asking to shove a hand up your shirt, or worse.
Though, Eddie’s own bubble of bliss popped at the sound of a voice carrying through to the back of the store, eyes widening in fear. You panic, shoving him into a dark corner, down one of the rows, yanking him down to squat out of sight.
“I thought you said we didn’t have to worry about your dad showing up?!” Eddie says in a hushed whisper, eyes showing how desperate he was to escape this situation.
You silence him with the palm of your hand, pulling him lower, almost on top of you, to avoid being seen. You turn to peek from under the legs that held up the bins of records, watching as your father wandered around until he found what he was looking for—his wallet, of all fucking things. Eddie says something into your hand, but it’s muffled. You swat him gently, but it’s enough to warrant a warning—and the look you give him... he obeys almost immediately.
The moment you two are finally alone again, you both collapse with a loud sigh on the floor—hearts pounding out of your chest.
“Am I dead?” Eddie asks, staring up at the ceiling. You lean over him, popping into his line of sight.
“If you’re dead, I guess I’ll have to take back that copy of—“ You slowly reach for the record he still had a death grip on.
“No, no. Anything but that.” He begs, holding it closer to his chest. You chuckle softly, pushing yourself up. Eddie follows suit slowly, still reeling from the aftermath of what had just happened.
“Wanna listen for a bit?” You suggest, trying to ease some of his nerves. “I’ve got a few minutes until I have to open shop and that record player up front is top of the fuckin’ line. It sounds amazing.”
“You wanna listen? To Metallica?” He asks, confirming what he had suspected earlier, but it still didn’t help hide the bewilderment he was experiencing.
“The fact that I know you’re judging me so hard is kind of an asshole move, Munson.” You tease, grabbing the vinyl from his hand and setting it onto the record player.
It crackles to life, almost like magic, the song begins to play dimly in the background. You didn’t want to risk blowing the speakers out this early, so a manageable volume seemed appropriate.
“I’m not judging, I swear. I just—I had no idea, you know.” He’s leaning against the wall, hands crossed loosely over his chest. “Metal heads are a rare breed, they think we’re all fuckin’ nuts.”
“Aren’t we?” You joke, perched against the top of one of the leather chairs arranged near the entrance.
“There’s no way you’re real.” Eddie shakes his head with disbelief, running a twitchy hand through the back of his hair. It makes your heart twinge, the way he sounds so exasperated over the whole thing.
“I’m very real.” You remind him, poking gently at his arm. Eddie makes a small sound, a huff of laughter, though pained in the way it never actually leaves his mouth. “You okay, Eddie?”
“Yeah. Yeah, fine.”
Eddie was either impossible to read, or showing his emotions on his sleeve, there was no in-between. But right now, you were struggling to decipher why he seemed so off—switching from foot to foot nervously, fingers pulling at the loose thread on his jacket absently, chewing softly at his bottom lip like he’s trying desperately to stop himself from talking.
Screw always staying on the straight and narrow, you were taking the damn leap. You reach out for the hand that was tugging at a flimsy piece thread, fingers wrapping loosely around his own. His gaze is soft, looking up at you ever so slightly. “Eddie, you can talk to me.”
“Huh.” It’s a quiet sound, but you watch that way his chest bounces at the action. He’s eerily silent, like he can’t find the words to talk—but you could do enough of that for the both of you.
“Okay, don’t talk to me.” It comes out wrong, condescending. You scramble for a moment, “Not—I mean, I want you to feel like you can talk to me, but if you don’t want to, that’s fine too.” It’s a gentle reminder that no matter what, you respected his boundaries.
I’m kind of obsessed with you—is what he wants to say. But he can’t. He can’t even form the words. Any words. He takes a long, deep breath to calm himself.
“Please don’t hate me for this.”
“Why would I—“ Oh.
It felt…too good, too right, too entirely fuckin’ real. You can’t even find it in you to pull back, inhaling shakily against Eddie’s mouth, parting just enough to give you the space you needed to let your brain catch up with the rest of your body.
“Still don’t hate you.” You whisper into the air between you both, lips still close enough that they graze against his with every movement.
“Good.” He sighs, reaching forward to press one last sweet, lingering kiss against your lips. It was a lot less scandalous than you anticipated—not that you ever imagined kissing Eddie Munson...but still, definitely better than any expectation you might’ve had.
“Eddie, I really have to work.” You say with nothing but regret, feeling like cutting this short was a lousy attempt at escaping the situation, which was so far from what you wanted to do, but you couldn’t even process what was happening, not fully, at least. “We can talk later, if you want.”
“Uh, sure.” Eddie still sounds defeated, backing away slowly. He didn’t know what he was expecting, really. There was no way you would immediately fall head over heels, prepared with some sort of epic love confession. Still, he was disappointed with himself for not being able to express things differently.
You sigh, trying to find some way to reassure the poor boy standing before you. “We can shelf this,” You thought it was kinda cheesy, he did too. His smile is enough to make you feel a little bit better about cutting him off so quickly, “and you can call this number when you feel like talking to me.”
Reaching for the pen sitting on the clipboard on the table beside you, you scribble down a fury of numbers on a line of paper and shove it into his palm. You couldn’t do mixed signals, friends or not—if Eddie had something he wanted to say, you needed to hear it, he needed to hear himself say it. You needed it to be real.
“I’ll wait.”
As long as it would take.
⋆.ೃ࿔*:・
A day passes, then two, three—nearly a week and Eddie still hasn’t bothered to call you, no matter how much time you spent sitting by the landline all evening, going so far as to study and eat dinner within arms reach of the phone, wondering why he still hadn’t called.
Maybe he had changed his mind, and that was fine, but it was still a kick in the ass—a reminder that you couldn’t let silly little crushes distract you like this. Eddie even avoided you in the hallway more often, taking a left toward his mandatory PE class, rather than taking the long way around to have a conversation with you. You felt ashamed, embarrassed that you had even allowed him to kiss you, it made you feel vulnerable.
After a week of silence and too many eerily quiet shifts at Family Video, enough is enough. And as luck would have it, you find him on a Friday night, digging through a discount bin at your dad’s record store—which, you should have known. But what was more astonishing, was how long he had managed to avoid you, here, of all places.
“We’re closing in ten, folks!” Your dad’s voice bellows through the place, warning the very few stragglers left that if they weren’t out within that time, it would be an issue. “Hiya, sweetheart.”
Eddie whips around at the speed of light, eyes landing on you immediately. You can’t help but look smug, arms crossed tightly over your chest. He tries to compose himself, turning back to the bin and continuing to browse through.
What an asshole, you think.
“Hey.” It’s simple, short, an easy way to start a conversation.
“Hi.” His voice doesn’t waver, but he sure as hell doesn’t look at you.
“If you’re not going to say anything, I will.” He’d done enough tiptoeing the past week, you just wanted an explanation.
He sighs, looking up at you slowly. “I know. I’m a dick for ignoring you.” He wasn’t wrong, you definitely felt it was a dick move that way he handled things. But, you hated holding grudges, especially against someone like Eddie, who you never hated to begin with.
“I get it, if you didn’t want to talk about what happened—it’s fine, but I still like talking to you, Eddie. You wouldn’t even look at me during lunch or any time I passed you in the halls—and don’t forget how late you are on returning that copy of ‘A New Hope’.” You point a feebly accusing finger in his direction, poking gently at his chest.
“I did.” He admits, “I gave it to Harrington and he handled it for me.”
Brows furrowed, your gaze ices over. “You went through me—to Steve?!” Now that, that stung. “You couldn’t even return a rental because I scared you off that much?”
“You didn’t scare me!”
You both freeze, not entirely sure where the outburst stunned from, luckily enough the store had emptied already. Still, that left a very clueless father of yours to watch the whole conversation unravel.
“I’ll give you two some privacy.” He says, but it’s mostly directed at you. He slips the store keys into your hand. “Lock up and don’t stay out too late.”
You’ve never been more thankful for having such relaxed parents.
“You didn’t scare me.” Eddie repeats himself, more relaxed but still tense around the edges.
“Then why are you avoiding me?” You push. “Was kidding me really that horrible?”
“No—god, no. I have—I don’t really,” He takes a breath, hand steady out in front of himself between the space you two held, “I’ve never talk to people that I like—everyone thinks I’m this freak that worships that devil when all I really do is—“
“Play D&D with underclassmen and listen to metal rock at ungodly volumes from the inside of your van?” You ask, seemingly shutting him up. “Eddie, I know—the only people that believe that shit are the ones that can’t even look at themselves in the mirror and face who they are.”
You pull him toward the seating nook near the front of the store, forcing him down on the old leather couch shoved against the wall, allowing him the time he needs before he speaks again. You didn’t glance over his admission at liking you, but it was so painfully obvious that bringing it up again might do more harm than good, teasing him was the last thing you wanted to do. It was better to let him find the words he needed to express how he felt, that’s what you’d been waiting for—nearly a week now.
“I kissed you and it screwed everything up. I was so caught up in this idea of what I thought you were that when I realized who you actually were—I didn’t know how to respond, so I kissed you.”
“I do have interests, Eddie. I’m not some robot. They may not be what you expected, but the person I am at school, that’s not me. It’s what I want people to see—outside of school, I don’t have to force that image that I throw on. It’s just me.” You kept the two things on different sides of the universe, not that you weren’t ashamed of the fake act you put on around everyone, but it was the least complicated thing that somehow made sense in your mind.
You continue talking, Eddie forced to do nothing but listen. “I like Kate Bush and Journey—fuckin’ Metallica. My dad taught me how to play D&D when I was twelve for fucks sake. I love nerdy shit and maybe I’m ashamed to tell people that, but I’m sure as hell not afraid to like it.”
Eddie could’ve sworn his brain short-circuited at your admission, not that it was something groundbreaking, but it was something he had failed to notice on his own, how easily he overlooked you and believed in the show you put on for everyone else.
“I always thought you looked at me as some weird freak that annoyed you all the time.” He laughs quietly, fingers rubbing against the side of his rings absently.
“Annoyed me, yes.” You giggle softly, “Looked at you like you were some weird freak? Never. That’s a little hypocritical, don’t you think?”
“Well, now I just feel like an asshole.” Eddie admits, smirking ever so slightly. “I should’ve noticed.”
“That was the whole point, Eddie.” You tell him, thumping his forehead gently. He gasps, rubbing the spot dramatically, as if you actually did any damage. “You think I didn’t know what you were doing these past few months? Visiting me at work, purposely saving the seat behind me in class just so you could bother me for answers—you could’ve just talked to me, Eddie. The idea that you think that I think I’m too good for you—it hurts.”
“Everything is fucked up now.” He says, it being the only conclusion he could come to. There was no rectifying what he had ruined, not in his mind.
“It’s not,” you remind him, slowly standing from your seat to pull from the stack of records by the record player, the beginnings of some random pop-ish song you’ve never heard of filling the room, “and since you want to be so self-deprecating, I’m going to make you sit through this god awful song until you realize that not only do I not hate you—I would let you kiss me again, and again, and ag—“
Eddie grips your head firmly, hand cradling the back of your head, fingers all wound up in your hair. He’s got his mouth on you, this time completely unashamed, all him and no impulse. It’s a little sloppy, the way his mouth meets yours. You weren’t ready for it, but to say that your mouth wasn’t a perfect fit against his own, that was a blatant lie. You two fit together well, his lips slotting against yours perfectly. He smells like weed and pine and nature, it’s your favorite smell in the world now.
“And again, and again.” Eddie mocks against your lips when you two finally come up for air. He couldn’t tell you where the sudden act of boldness came from, his body working purely on feeling and adrenaline.
“We gotta stop doing this.” You say, pulling back just enough to look at him.
“Kissing? Because I don’t know if I’m gonna be able to—“
“No, turning this record shop into our sacred make out spot.”
Eddie snorts at that, pulling back even more, head thrown back in a small fit of laughter. “I wouldn’t call that making out, would you?”
“You know what I mean.” You shove him lightly, nearly pushing him off you. But, he doesn’t let go.
Silence falls over you both, neither of you finding the words to break it. It didn’t feel wrong, crossing this line. Eddie wasn’t some forbidden fruit you couldn’t have a taste of—though he couldn’t say the same for you, but there were definitely some things that needed to be worked through.
“You’re not my boyfriend,” You tell him sternly and outright, “not yet. But, that doesn’t mean I’m not going to let you kiss me if you want to.”
“You’re not afraid of what people will say?” It’s the first genuine question that you can immediately answer, not an inkling of doubt behind it.
“I don’t give a shit what people think about who I associate myself with.” You reply honestly, eyes conveying an openness you only reserved for the people closest to you.
“Won’t it tank your reputation?” He laughs, fingers coming up to play with a stray piece of hair framing your face. “Can’t stay popular when you have a freak like me following you around.”
“Doubtful.” The students of Hawkins were so desperate for leadership, they would follow you without question. It was a gross thing to think about, but some people couldn’t be bothered to think for themselves and would rather have other people do it for them. “I think I scare a lot of people.”
Eddie nods, almost like he can relate. “You can be a little terrifying.”
“Good.” You say proudly, finally managing to separate yourself from Eddie, even if you really didn’t want to.
⋆.ೃ࿔*:・
He kisses you that following Monday, square on the mouth, in front of not only his entire group of friends from Hellfire, but the entire senior class, including a few other underclassmen that lingered in the hallway for far too long. It’s puzzling at first, you’re confused, but you manage to fix your face quickly, smiling up at the boy standing in front of you.
“You really like drawing a crowd, Munson.” You tease, voice hushed so only he could hear.
“It’s a talent.” He remarks, gesturing wildly with his face, fingers pointed up to mimic devil horns, tongue stuck out for extra flair.
He was unapologetically himself and it was refreshing. You didn’t realize how hard everyone was staring until he’s left your side, and maybe you should feel ashamed, but the moment you attempt to lock eyes with any of them, they’re averting their eyes at the speed of light. Good—mind your damn business, you think.
⋆.ೃ࿔*:・
He still pesters you at Family Video every other day, but not nearly as much as before. Fortunately for Steve, he was receiving most of the attention now—and even if he would never admit it, he was warming up to Eddie.
“He asked if I could sell him some weed.” Eddie tells you one day, unprovoked and out of the blue. Your eyes nearly pop out of your head in surprise.
“You know what, I don’t even wanna know.” You tell him, hands up in defense. “Just know, Steve has the tolerance of a mouse—beer, weed, whatever. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
“Oh what, and little miss perfect’s never smoked a joint before?”
“Never.” You assure him. You weren’t one to judge, to each their own, but you never found any interest in actually trying it.
“And somehow you’ve got a crush on the one dude who smokes weed on a daily basis.” Eddie teases, finger jabbing your cheek softly. You can’t help but smile.
⋆.ೃ࿔*:・
The first time Eddie invites you to his trailer is rather uneventful. You meet his uncle, briefly. He doesn’t seem like much of a talker, but he’s still pleasantly surprised to see his nephew talking to someone, no matter who they were.
You two end up eating silently, talking about random and obscure things that only made sense between the four walls you both existed in.
“Favorite D&D class—go.” Eddie shoots a finger gun your way, grape shoved halfway into your mouth.
“Easy, rogue.” Stealth & trickery, that one was built for you. “Your turn.”
“Bard.” He says after a careful moment of thinking. “I don’t think that really needs much explaining.” Eddie says, flashing the beautiful guitar that hung on his wall, his most prized possession. “Plus, I’m super fuckin’ charming.”
“That you are.” You whisper softly, leaning forward to pull him in for a kiss. It’s cut entirely too short by Eddie pulling away, shoving another bit of food into his own mouth.
“Eat first, kiss later.” He orders.
And it’s not against your own human nature when you only receive so much as a few kisses before you’re leaving that night, wondering if maybe you were pushing too hard.
⋆.ೃ࿔*:・
So, you dial things back. It was fine if Eddie was making an attempt at slowing things down on purpose—the problem was, you weren’t used to it. You blame that partially on the fact that you’ve never gotten involved in anything more than a quick hookup. It was a foreign concept.
But Eddie does seem to take notice that you’re trying to create more distance at his expense and that just won’t do. So he’ll slide his hand up the back of your shirt, over the curve of your ass, a gentle tug on your hair when he’s kissing the life out of you from the driver’s side of his van, parked in the makeshift driveway outside his trailer home.
But, it constantly leaves you wanting more. You want him to touch you everywhere, constantly thinking about how his hands would feel around your thighs, running up the plane of your breasts, around your neck—and maybe you can blame it on the late surge of teenage hormones running through your body at eighteen.
And when the words finally left your mouth a few weeks later, laid out underneath Eddie on his unmade bed, you weren’t really sure what to expect.
“Are you scared to have sex with me?” You ask, voice sounding entirely too small in this big room. “Did I do something wrong?”
He lifts his head from where it’s resting on your chest, “What?”
“Are you waiting until marriage? Because if you are—that’s fine, but I really didn’t see that coming from you—not that I’m judging, it’s a valid choice.” You spit out in one breath, trying to compensate for how shitty you felt after asking him that.
“I’m a virgin.” He blurts out at once.
“O-oh. Okay.” You say slowly, caught off-guard by the admission. “I’m sorry, I just assumed that—“
“I’ve made out with people before and done a few other things but,” He tells you, “I’ve just never..”
“No, it’s fine.” You assure him, sitting up in his bed to look at him clearly, “I feel like a total asshole now.”
“Believe me, I want to have sex with you.” He looks so damn earnest, his palm resting against your knee, thumb rubbing against the skin gently. “I just don’t want to disappoint—gotta live up to the reputation, you know?”
“You’ve never even come close?” You ask curiously. It seemed like a harmless enough question to ask.
“Yeah—a few times. I always cut things short, though. I’ve had people offer me sex and blowies in exchange for weed, but that just feels wrong on so many levels.”
You nod slowly, thoughtfully. “Well, I’m not gonna push you or anything. It doesn’t have to be some big, monumental thing we have to tiptoe around. We can just…figure it out as we go.”
⋆.ೃ࿔*:・
The next couple months are easy, creeping up toward Christmas, impatiently awaiting a much needed break from school, work—even life. You wanted to lock yourself in your room and sleep for a week straight. Between your constant work shifts, covering Steve for dates because you’re way too nice of a friend, and still making sure to spend time with Eddie, you were worn out. Not that Eddie was a chore, but it felt like you couldn’t give him your full, undivided attention when your mind was constantly thinking of your schedule for the next day.
When you finally do manage to reward yourself with a few glorious days off, you spend them locked up in your room, just as you intended.
Tap. Tap. It was nearly eleven at night, who in the hell could possible be—
Eddie’s head pops into view, clearly struggling to keep himself upright. You scramble to the window, opening it up to pull him inside.
“Are you insane?” You ask, helping him step over the threshold without face planting on to the carpet. “My parents are asleep downstairs—if they find you up here this late, I’m dead. Dead, Eddie.”
“I’ll be quiet.” He smiles, fingers crossed over his heart in a way that told you he meant it.
“What did you want?” You ask, not really trying to sound like an asshole, but your exhaustion is making it seem that way.
“Wanted to see you.” He shrugs, plopping himself down on your bed. He’s holding his hands out too, hoping you would follow suit.
He nearly manhandles you over his lap, letting you rest against his thighs. “What’s gotten into you?” You ask, hands resting against his lower abdomen where his shirt had ridden up. “Is this a late night booty call?”
“A what—“ He looks genuinely confused, “nevermind.”
“Oh, so you just missed me?” You tease, hands crawling up the expanse of his chest, you reach forward to kiss teasingly against the bit of his chest that was exposed from his top, right above his tattoo. “That’s cute.”
“I had an idea.” Oh no, you think. It was either going to be something completely outlandish or—who the fuck were you kidding? This was Eddie. “Since you’ve been so stressed lately.”
“Yeah?” You reply eagerly, ready for any type of distraction to help take your mind off of everything.
“Let me go down on you.” And if there was a list of things that you never expected to hear Eddie Munson say, that was nearing the top.
“Eddie Munson.” You respond, sounding scandalized.
“Don’t tell me you’re turning down an orgasm.” He responds cockily, almost full of himself.
“I thought you said you-“
“I’m not that clueless, princess.” Well then. “Now, lay down.”
⋆.ೃ࿔*:・
Definitely not clueless. Not in the slightest of ways.
Eddie’s mouth his way down the inside of your thigh, biting and licking at your skin in a way that has you squirming desperately.
“No fingers.” He tells you.
You nod. At a loss of words for the first time in your life.
“Just my mouth.” He says around a particularly sensitive spot, sucking lightly. “That’s all I need.”
He sounds entirely too sure of himself.
“We can make a deal, if you’re that confident.” You challenge, head craning down to look at him from in between your legs. He gives you a look that signals for you to keep talking, not bothering to stop the desperate attack on your skin that was surely going to leave marks the next morning.
“You make me come—I’ll blow you.” You say breathlessly, squirming again as the heat from his breath hits your bare cunt. “Deal?”
“Fuck yeah.”
He starts gentle, easy, separating your folds with his tongue and teasing at your clit. You sigh, admiring the sight of Eddie’s head tucked between your legs, face buried into the apex of your thighs. It seemed like a bold statement at first, the idea of Eddie making you come with nothing but his mouth—but you realize your own feeble mistake. Eddie turned you on enough that he didn’t need to use fingers, you could come with just his mouth—hell, just the sight of him between your legs had your thighs clenching around his head, caging him in place.
The hand that isn’t resting against your stomach pulls against the inside of your thigh, forcing your legs open wider, and wider. He’s practically drinking you in now, switching between licking and sucking at your sensitive clit in intervals that had your body arching in pleasure and agony—agony at the fact that this couldn’t continue on forever.
“You’re such a liar.” You force out through clenched teeth, his chuckle is apparent as it vibrates against your cunt, sending you reeling.
“Just because I haven’t had sex doesn’t mean I can’t compensate in other areas.” And then he’s back to work.
“Oh, oh fuck.” You’re desperately trying to keep your voice down, the only solution being for you to cover your mouth with your hand, muffling the moans that Eddie was pulling out of you. “This is cruel.”
“You’re really wet.” He observes, pulling back to allow you both a breather, “It’s all over your sheets.”
“Shit happens—I’ll wash them later—just keep going, please.” You rush out, using your hands to physically direct him back to your cunt, his nose brushing up against your clit as his tongue dipped inside of you.
You were passed caring at this point, desperate for the orgasm that was building in your lower abdomen. You’ve got the sheets in a knuckle white grip, gasping at every lick and nudge he made against your sensitive and swollen clit, face burning with the heat of how close you were, flushed a deep red.
“Gonna come, Eddie.” You warn, which only encourages him further. And god, the mouth on him. He’s licking desperately at your cunt, your juices and his spit mixing together to create a glorious slippery mess that created the perfect amount of friction.
And he feels it coming, the way your fingers grip the hair at the base of his head, he reaches up to cover your mouth, you clasp your own hand over his—and finally, you let go.
“Christ.” You say on an exhale, dizzy from what had to be the single most hardest orgasm you’ve ever felt. “Get the fuck up here, Eddie.”
“And just like that,” He snaps, “stress free.” His face is wet still, covered in you, and you can’t help but laugh. “What, something on my face?” You reach up and grab the collar of his shirt to wipe away the mess from his mouth.
“All good.” You assure him, patting his chest gently. It takes a while for you to finally gain your bearings, but eventually you do. “And like I said—a deal is a deal.” You turn to look at him, enjoying the way he’s spread out on your bed, smug and jovial. “Are you sure you’re okay with this?”
He nods, “With a gorgeous someone like you asking to suck my dick? Absolutely.”
Eddie sure had a way with words.
“Here, turn this way.” You tell him, tapping his thigh softly so he’d move.
“Why can’t I—“ You drop to your knees on the soft carpet of your floor, fitting perfectly between his legs. “Oh.”
You unbuckle his belt, fumbling a little with the loops, so you forgo trying to take the whole thing off and just focus on being able to unbutton his pants. He pushes them down, letting them pool around his ankles.
Eddie doesn't really know where to put his hands, first his thighs, then the sheets and back again. “Do I just—“
You place his hands on either side of him, wrapped around the edge of the mattress and—Jesus, was that more a turn on than having his head between your thighs, his rings shining prominently against the pale skin of his fingers.
“Just keep them there and flow with whatever works, Eddie. You tell me what feels good.” He nods softly.
He’s hard already, reeling off the high of going down on you, so instead of trying to tease him any longer—which you weren’t sure he could handle, you peel his underwear down, enough to where it drops on its own and you can finally admire his dick in full view, completely bare.
You didn’t realize you had your bottom lip pulled underneath your top row of teeth until Eddie was rubbing gently at your chin, staring down at you with gentle, loving eyes. It’s so sickeningly sweet that you want to burst into tears.
“No fingers?” You tease. “Just my mouth?”
“I think we can make an exception in this case.”
You waste no time in wrapping your hand around his shaft, Eddie swallowing audibly from above you. Still in one piece, that was good. You move slowly, a few long, languid strokes of his dick until you’re peering up at him asking, “Is this good?”
Contrary to whatever Eddie might be thinking, you’ve never actually had anyone’s anything in your mouth. Handjobs were easy, quick—but you’d never gone so far as to give a blowjob to any guy you’ve ever hooked up with. This was all new territory for you.
“Here.” Eddie has a firm grip around your hand, pushing you to squeeze a little tight, tug faster, enough to build a steady pace of both pressure and friction. “Shit—like that. That’s good.”
He sighs shakily, leaning more into the weight of his arm, praying to whatever god out there that it was enough to keep him upright.
You lean forward to lick at the tip carefully, he’s quiet and methodical, like he’s trying to focus on something. His eyes are shut right, hands now balled into fists.
Another lick this time, from the base of his dick to the tip before you’re swallowing him down, using your hands to follow what your mouth couldn’t. Unfortunately for you, gag reflexes were definitely still a thing and you weren’t going to force what wouldn’t fit—and there was a lot of Eddie that wasn’t going to fit. He was, without a doubt, bigger than any other person you’d been with—not so comical that it didn’t seem real, but it was more than enough.
“Fuck, this is gonna over way to quick.” He groans, “Slow-slow down.”
“Hands in my hair.” You tell him, guiding a hand toward the back of your head, he obeys easily, fingers twisted into the hair at the base of your neck. “Control the pace, I’ll follow.”
“You’re not real.” He breathes out in disbelief, rewarding him by swirling your tongue around the tip of his dick before your lips wrap around it, sucking lightly.
He moans louder than you initially expected, both of you pulling back in shock, your hand immediately darting toward his mouth.
“Don’t think I won’t shove something in your mouth if you want to keep that up.” You warned halfheartedly, but you were definitely more serious than playful.
“I can’t make any promises, sweetheart.” Well, you appreciated the honesty.
You suck him down again, as fully as possible, keeping a steady rhythm around his dick. He’s holding himself together better, but he’s still pretty noisy regardless. You reach aimlessly for something, anything, to shove in his mouth.
“Back pocket of my jeans,” He says, practically whining, “the—fuck, just grab it, you know what I’m talking about.”
You quickly yank at the black handkerchief in the pocket of his jeans, shoving it quickly into his mouth on the uptick of another groan, muffled perfectly by the fabric.
He bucks his hips on a particular downward motion of your mouth, the back of his dick hitting your throat and nearly causing you to gag, but you recover, bringing him closer and closer to his own orgasm. Eddie can’t even focus on his own thoughts at this point, he sounds insufferable. He’s gone from upright to sprawled across your sheets, gasping underneath the confines of the cloth.
“Gonna come,” Eddie forces out, quickly unstuffing his mouth, patting your shoulder gently as a warning, “you gotta pull off.”
You do and just in time for Eddie to spill over his stomach, his shirt having thankfully ridden up enough in his constant squirming that it narrowly managed to miss it. He’s clearly forcing himself to keep quiet, feeling himself coming down from the most mind blowing orgasm he’s ever received by another person. You try not to sit too long on the fact that no one has ever seen him the way you have, so blown out from an orgasm that you caused.
Eddie slowly pulls his underwear and jeans back over his hips, leaving them unbuttoned as he falls back on your bed, dragging you down with him.
“You really are the gift that keeps on giving.” He jokes, rubbing your back gently, hands finding their way underneath the fabric of your shirt, barely finger tipping past the point of your ass, playing absently with the hem of your underwear.
“And this gift needs some sleep.” You tell him.
And so what if you both ended up cuddled underneath the covers in your bedroom that night, neither of you bothering to ruin this tiny bit of bliss you had created. Eddie still managed to sneak out that morning without any evidence that he had ever been there.
⋆.ೃ࿔*:・
Eddie can’t stop touching you since the night you two shared over the weekend, always finding any reason to have a hand on you—against your back, resting against the soft dip in your waist, or just dealing his arm around your shoulder in an effort to pull you closer.
“You sure you wanna try?” He asks, holding the joint in front of your face, waiting for you to grab it. “You really don’t have to.”
You wanted to, even if it was only this once. You had to live through the hype that everyone was talking about, even if you decided to never touch it after this moment, ever again.
“For the tenth time—yes.” You laugh, snatching the joint from his fingers and pulling it toward your lips. You remember what Eddie told you. Breathe in, not too deep, hold, then out through your nose.
But, you fuck up on the second step, taking in a little too much, lungs burning from the smoke you inhaled. You lean over, feeling like you’re going to cough yourself into a miserable death on the floor of Eddie’s trailer.
“We’ll work on it.” Eddie assures you, rubbing your back comfortingly.
It was the first and last time you ever touched a joint.
⋆.ೃ࿔*:・
Christmas comes and goes, a flurry of family visits and gift giving to all of your friends, leading up to dinner at Eddie’s trailer the evening of the day after, enjoying a small dinner with himself and his uncle. There’s some small talk, but most of the dinner is spent with you watching the two of them debate over some band you aren’t even sure you’ve ever heard of.
“Thank you.” Eddie tells you when he’s finally parked in front of your house, rubbing the backside of your hand with his thumb, fingers curling around your palm. You squeeze his hand in return.
“It was nice.” You admit. “My family is really loud, so it was a lot more enjoyable than you’d think.”
He chuckles softly, not wanting to let go of your hand, and not really wanting to say goodbye, either. You check the driveway, reminding yourself that your parents had left for another party a few towns over, a family friend.
“Hey, why don’t you stay for a bit?” You suggest, nodding in the direction of your house. “My parents won’t be home until midnight, I’m guessing–so maybe I can finally give you a grand tour without my parents asking you a million questions.” And ask they would, which is exactly why he hadn’t officially met them yet. Plus, he hadn’t officially asked you to be his girlfriend in any sense of the word–so it didn’t feel right either way.
Eddie doesn’t even so much as hesitate, hopping out of his car to follow you to the front door. The house is a decent size–a few bedrooms and a couple bathrooms, kitchen, all the normal things you would expect from a house in the suburbs.
You both collapse on your bed the moment you enter your room, both exhausted and full from the ridiculous amount of food you consumed over dinner.
Eddie finds out that you talk in your sleep that night–which should be considered singing, but your voice is so off-key that not even he can sugarcoat it. He doesn’t say anything, though. He listens to you jam out into the quiet ambiance of your room, ceiling fan buzzing from above.
⋆.ೃ࿔*:・
“Let’s have sex.” Eddie interjects bluntly, causing you to choke on the giant swig of water you had just attempted to swallow. It was New Years Eve and you both had planned to spend it together, even if you didn’t really have anything fun to do—spending time with Eddie was always eventful—case in point.
“Yeah,” you nod slowly, “Okay.” You never bothered to push Eddie on the topic, letting him come to that decision when he felt like it. Plus, his courage has probably been boosted from all the orgasms he’s given you, not that you were complaining—Eddie gave amazing head.
It doesn’t take much more coaxing to get you into his bed, naked from the waist up, Eddie’s mouth focused on nothing but the soft, plush valley of your breasts. He squeezed the one that wasn’t occupied by his mouth gently, tongue swirling around the bud of your nipple.It felt good, amazing, but you were way too horny to focus on the feeling of Eddie's mouth against your tits for this long.
“This is probably a terrible time to bring this up—“ He begins, but you silence him, tearing his mouth away from your tender breast and up to your mouth.
“Whatever it is, it can wait.” You laugh softly. Eddie’s looking up at you, his hair a wild mess. He looks innocent and naive, with no idea what he was getting himself into. “Do you have condoms?”
Bareback was a hard no—no matter who it was. Although, the idea of tiny little Eddie’s running around was adorable, just not enough to sacrifice everything you learned in Sex Ed. He nods eagerly, reaching over you to grab a thin box from the top of his bedside table. He shakes it, box still unopened.
“How long have you had those?” You ask, almost certain you’d never seen any in his place before.
“A few weeks.” He shrugs, pulling one of the small tin foil squares out of the box and tossing it on the floor. “Wasn’t sure when I should bring it up, you know?”
Like you wouldn’t jump his bones the second he asked, regardless if it had been two days ago or two weeks. You had waited patiently for Eddie to come to the decision on his own, and that’s all you could do. It wasn’t something you two always tiptoed around, you didn’t treat it like he had some ailment that kept him from pleasing you otherwise, it was just one step you hadn’t gotten to yet.
“Have you been planning this, Munson?” You tease, fingers dragging down his chest slowly, stopping just at the edge of his belt, your fingers curling around it.
“You can’t prove anything.” He replies, shoving his face into the crook of your neck to bite teasingly at the skin there. You yelp, squirming in the way it sends shivers down your spine.
“Beautiful, charming, and chivalrous—what did I do to deserve you?” You ask, a smile gracing your face. “Not to mention how downright dirty that mouth is.”
“Oh, I’m full of surprises, sweetheart.” His voice low and teasing, coming up to capture your lips in a filthy kiss, all tongue and eager enthusiasm.
⋆.ೃ࿔*:・
Part of you was glad that the shyness between you both was long gone, having seen each other in enough intimate ways that now—it was normal. It took a lot of the edge off for Eddie, who seemed more and more relaxed as the night drew on. You’d both forgone clothing very early on, relishing in the sight of being able to see Eddie completely bare—tattoo and toned muscle on full display.
He’s pretty insistent about going down on you despite how you insisted he didn’t have to, but it was Eddie—always wanting to give more than he took.
“Just like that.” You sigh softly, hips hovering over his mouth, your cunt making a mess all over his face. “Fuck—don’t stop.”
His tongue works quickly, rubbing over the sensitive nub of your swollen clit, his hands coming behind you to pull you further against his face. He’s practically groaning underneath you, hips bucking up into nothing—you’re ready to put him out of his misery, but the crashing feeling of your orgasm creeps up on you out of nowhere, cunt riding it out against his face, which he ravished greedily.
He’s very adamant about not having you return the favor. “There’s no way I’ll last through you doing that and being inside you without blowing my load, at least once. And truthfully, I’d like this to last a little longer than thirty seconds.”
He’s painfully honest and it’s adorable.
“God, you’re so fucking beautiful.” He sighs, brows furrowed slightly.
“You want me on top?” You ask softly, hovering over his bare thighs.
“Are you actually asking me that?” He laughs, a little dumbfounded. He’s right, stupid question.
You grab his hand, guiding it toward your sensitive pussy, allowing him to dip a single digit inside of you. He breathes in sharply, his fingers barely moving. He wasn’t even inside you and he already looked like he could fall apart.
Eddie notices the way your eyes fall shut, basking in the feeling of being filled up, even if it wasn’t by him—not really. He’s slow, precise, curling his finger ever so often until you’re rocking against his own hand, then he’s adding another. “More.” You say, he listens one obediently, squeezing another finger into you, working steadily inside of you now. The stretch felt amazing, but it was still lacking what you needed. You reach between you both, wrapping your fingers around his shaft, pulling gently.
He’s quiet, eyes closed. You pull again, rubbing your thumb over the tip, spreading the small amount of precome that had leaked out. “Fuck, I wanna be inside you.” Eddie moans, mouth hung open slightly.
You decide to finally put him out of his misery.
⋆.ೃ࿔*:・
Eddie’s silent as he slips on the condom, his tongue sticking out past his lips from focusing too hard. “Okay, I think we’re good.” He says finally, looking up at you. He squeezes at the side of your waist, pulling you over him.
You guide him inside of you, sinking down into him slowly. It had been far too long since you had been with anyone, the stretch making you wince slightly—it didn’t help that Eddie was a lot larger than what you were typically used to.
Eddie lets out a plethora of soft, random noises—watching intently as your cunt swallows him before finally it can’t take anymore, now pressed fully against one another.
“Move. Just move.” He urges you, hands gripping your waist tightly, you being the only thing anchoring him to reality.
You do, slowly, rocking against him until he’s finally able to focus—“You okay?” You say softly, and the look he gives is something you will never be able to get out of your mind—bottom lip sucked between his teeth, eyes locked on the place where you were both joined together, before glancing up to look at you. He nods jerkily, “Wanna switch?” You ask, giving him the chance to control the pace.
“Please—I already feel like I’m gonna come quickly, but having you on top is just—“ He didn’t feel the need to elaborate.
He flips you over easily, manhandling you against his sheets. Your hips rested high up onto his hips, his forearms barricading your head. He’s moving slowly, too slowly, a short thrust of his hips every couple seconds. Eddie wasn’t going to last long and you knew it.
“Hey, it’s fine.” You reassure him, “Stop thinking.”
“Okay,” He nods, moving his hips faster, “I’m not going to last long, I’m sorry.”
“Eddie,” You grab his chin, pulling attention toward your face, “stop apologizing and fuck me.”
And it’s all he needs to hear.
His mouth latches into the dip of your collarbone, sucking lightly, snapping his hips at a pace that had you moaning out in pleasure. “Feels so good, Eddie.” He bites at the skin of your shoulder and it really shouldn’t turn you on as much as it should. “Again,” you encourage him, “do that again.”
His teeth trail against the skin of your neck, up under your chin, before suck your bottom lip into his mouth, teeth digging in gently. “Say my name.” He breathes against your open mouth.
“Eddie.” You sigh, voice squeaking on a particularly hard snap of his hips. He moans outwardly, loud and strangled. Eddie could feel himself falling apart.
“Fuck—I can’t. I’m gonna come.” He groans out, grunting at the feeling of you squeezing down against his dick.
“It’s okay.” You shake your head, letting him bury his into your neck, his sounds muffled into the sheets.
Eddie’s loud when he comes, hands gripping your thighs so hard that you were definitely going to leave bruises, but you didn’t mind. “Fuck!” He shouts, riding himself through his orgasm before he’s collapsing on top of you. “Holy shit.”
“Well, that’s one way to ring in the New Year.” You comment, hand reaching to wipe that hair out of his face where it had been stuck with sweat. He huffs into your cheek, nose squished against your face. Eddie kisses your cheek, your nose, before capturing your mouth. He pulls out slowly, tying off the condom and tossing it into the trash bin beside his bed before returning back to his original position on top of you,
“Inside of my girlfriend?” He asks, pulling back to look at you. The word slips out accidentally.
“Girlfriend?” You ask, eyebrow raised in question.
“Well, that’s what I was trying to ask you early—but someone was just too horny they couldn’t wait for me to ask. I guess I probably shouldn’t assume you would say yes but—“
“Ask me again.” You tell him, finger coming up to trace his bottom lip. He smiles widely, biting the finger in retaliation.
“Fine.” He kisses the side of your hand. “Will you be my girlfriend?”
“Hmm.” You start, “Well-“
“Oh, no way—“ You immediately clasp your hand over his mouth.
“Yes.” You tell him, eyes boring into his own. “Of course I’ll be your girlfriend.”
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cupcakeslushie · 7 months
Note
What condition does donnie have in EW?
Schizophrenia?
Well, it’s a mix of PTSD from his childhood trauma, and hallucinations from being slightly exposed to Empyrean. So, while it’s all partly a cause based off fantasy, I do try and do my research to keep it in the realm of something concrete. Donnie has audio/visual hallucinations, depersonalization/dissociation, memory blanks, etc…. Pile that all, on top of his genius brain fighting a chaotic, disorganized mind that’s constantly in fight or flight mode.
I’ve had a few people say they recognize certain aspects of themselves in my Donnie, and so I think it’s less about assigning a specific name to what Donnie has, and more about the story of how he and the people that love him, help him in figuring out how to live a good life, while handling all the trauma he’s been through!
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I’m right there with you, and that’s probably one of those things I gave all the boys to some extent, because damn, if that wasn’t me when I was younger 😅. I’ve since moved on to using less harmful means of stress relief, but it remains something that I just instantly read as an anxious habit lol—it’s just the levels and ways each of the boys exhibit it that vary.
Leo is the one more likely to pick and scratch to harm, because unfortunately, he does his as a type of holdover, self-flagellating from even the tiniest of mistakes. Mikey gets distracted with thinking up ideas, and bites his nails, sometimes a little too deeply. To the point where he’s drawing blood—it also sucks because he loves painting his nails. Raph will chew on his palms and knuckles from anxiety, but his skin is so tough, that he rarely does actual damage. Donnie will pick and scratch at everything—his hands, his arms, his face—especially when he hits a frustrating road-block. It won’t even register that he’s broken skin—his pain tolerance is so fucked up.
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Donnie’s worst near death experience was, of course, the vivisection. He didn’t follow any after-care instructions, and infection very nearly killed him. Most of the other stuff was, of course, physically and mentally scarring, but not life-threatening. Thanks to being spaced out, with time for recovery, where Draxum just flat out ignored Three’s existence. As far as testing his endurance in the sleep department. Draxum made Three create a smaller, more refined version of the collars he made for Big Mama. When Draxum was tired of dealing with Three, but still feeling slightly generous, he’d force him to wear the device, rather than just chaining him up to the table. The watch would track Three’s heart rate and keep his path confined to set rooms only. Any time the watch detected Three was falling asleep, or outside of his approved perimeter, it would, you guessed it—shock him!
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salaimoi · 30 days
Text
will you hold my purse?
how the jjk men would react when you ask them to hold your purse. ib this tt starring: gojo satoru, toji fushiguro, & ryomen sukuna guest appearance from choso kamo
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Gojo Satoru
This diva would hold it as if it were his purse to begin with – no shame whatsoever, utterly unbothered by anyone else’s fragile masculinity. He would proudly wear it under his arm – to the point that your purse gets confused as to who its original owner is. He’ll get sooo into character that if someone got too close for comfort to him while you’re gone, he’d shriek like a little girl and whack them over the head with said purse. Total princess behavior.
Even if the person was only passing by, he assumes the worst of them: they’re trying to steal your handbag. 
And to your shocking dismay, when you return from the restroom you’re met by an innocent man laid out on the floor – all while the culprit continues to slander him with false accusations. You had to drag him out by the ear so he’d put a stop to his tomfoolery, but even then he continued to act a fool.
Safe to say you got kicked out of the restaurant and you’re both no longer welcomed. Your purse still under his arm, he clutches it tightly and ‘humpfs’ – head held high and nose tilting towards the roof to put emphasis on his sassiness.
“Your breadsticks were stale anyway!” he yells out to the closed door behind the two of you as he tosses an imaginary strand of hair over his shoulder. The tiny bag had given him an infinite amount of cheekiness – as if he didn’t have enough of that already.
Too bad if you really liked that purse, because it didn’t belong to you anymore.
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Toji Fushiguro
He’ll look at you weird, baffled as to why you trust him with your purse in the first place. How naive of you, really. The thought of rummaging through it and stealing your valuables goes through his mind, but decides against it – you were both equally broke anyways. He’s not afraid of your purse, but he won’t wear it on display – so he throws it over his shoulder nonchalantly, one hand on his hip as he whistles while he waits for you to be done with your business. 
Eventually the wait gets far too boring for his liking, so he begins to dig through your purse, not to take anything from you – even though he was tempted to do so – but to entertain himself. And just as he expected, he found so much useless crap. Gosh, you were such a disorganized person. Not to mention you had like a year's worth of tampons in your bag. what the hell woman? 
Taking advantage of the business opportunity, he stands outside the ladies bathroom and begins to “offer” tampons to the passing ladies. Not for free, of course; his benevolence came at a price: $5 a tampon. 
When you overhear women giggling and fawning over a handsome man being a “girl’s girl” outside, you immediately knew. You were inclined to smack him silly, but his logic behind the whole ordeal was so stupid that you were afraid he’d get dumber than he already is. 
“What the hell are you mad at? I just bought us lunch, woman.” 
“Yeah, with MY tampons. That’s literally blood money, you insolent shit.” you reprimand him, furiously snatching your purse back from him.
And you continued to scold him over some nice hotdogs. His treat, according to him. 
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Ryomen Sukuna
“Hell no.” He doesn’t hesitate to turn down your absurd request, crossing his arms over his chest in refusal. The fact that you were incapable of multitasking baffled him, so much so that he began to deem you incompetent from that moment on. But you were literally pissing your pants so you just shove it against his chest and sprint to the nearest restroom. 
To no one’s surprise, he allows the purse to fall to the ground, completely unbothered by the thing. And yet, he would glance down at it to make sure it was still there while you were gone – but not daring to touch it.
Once you had returned, though, he began to kick the thing around so that you wouldn’t be able to pick it up. He barked in laughter every time you thought you would finally get it off the ground – only for him to kick it around some more.
“Serves you right for trying to boss me around,” he roars.
All you wanted was for him to hold it for a few minutes, and now he had you playing ball with your own purse. It was quite amusing to him regardless.
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Choso Kamo
Being the teeth-rotting sweet man he is, he’ll nod an infinite number of times – his face lighting up that you actually entrusted him with such an important task. Eyes gleaming with nothing but excitement, he’ll relentlessly clutch it over his chest with both hands, looking from side to side every other second to make sure no one tries anything with your purse. To anyone passing by, he’d look like a sweet grandpa taking care of his beloved’s tote while she freshens up.
A group of girls happen to stumble upon the sight, taking notice of the man holding the bag as if his life depended on it. Because of how defenseless he seemed, they almost thought he was lost – so they approached him and asked him that.
“I’m holding my girlfriend’s purse while she runs to the restroom,” he replies shyly, completely unsure how to handle these types of situations – he’d never been left alone without you before.
The girls find his actions so adorable that they compliment you for having a boyfriend like him by your side. But that was before they had walked away and you had noticed Choso’s red-stained cheeks from how much they had been pinched prior to your arrival.
“Please don’t leave me alone ever again.” He pleads, not wanting to relive something like that during the spawn of his life. 
You’d be better off taking him into the restroom with you next time. 
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Donatello's First Love—Splinter's Talk
mostly bayverse, could be 2003 if you squint hard enough. did it a little different with this one compared to the others :0 word count: 1.6k
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Spanning his messy corner of the Lair, Donnie's many monitors mounted to the wall were alight with a blue glow. The same few camera feeds rotated between the locations outside of their home and other places, monitoring, and allowing surveillance to take a backseat in his mind while he worked. At his desk, he gently squeezed a pipette into the mouth of a breaker, waiting for the reaction he was looking for to occur. 
"Interesting," he mumbled to himself, "I wonder what happens if I were to supercool the mixture." 
He placed the substance in a tray and prepared another batch, this time, much more concentrated. There wasn't much to do around the house besides experiment with the materials he'd salvaged. That was fine; he enjoyed the process, and filling notebooks—and his walls—to the brim with chemical equations, notes and mathematics that hardly anyone but he could read. 
Careful with his large fingers to not drop the pipette, he sucked a few drops up from the test tube, going in to add to the mixture. He squinted, almost there. And then the startling alarm pinged on the screen next to him, making him jump and squirt the chemical on his work surface. He quickly wiped up and looked over at the computer. "'Motion detected: [y/n]'s apartment complex'," the screen read, switching camera feeds to one of the multiple tiny cameras he had set up. He only put cameras where he thought it mattered; he was paranoid about an ambush, and even more so at her place than theirs, now that she was coming and going from the Lair. The likelihood of their enemies finding out her association with them was about a fifty-seven percent chance, fifty percent too much for Donnie.
He scanned the monitor for signs of anything suspicious, but it turned out to be only a friend dropping by with a key to put a package inside, with [y/n]'s permission. 
"Oh," he muttered, suddenly feeling silly. He made sure the person left her apartment—and locked it back—before quickly switching the feed. That was his one secret nobody had managed to catch him out on yet. Even so, he felt slick and a little guilty for spying. But, justifiably, they needed to know if she ever was in danger! He dismissed the notification and rotated the feeds manually. "Whoops. Sorry, [y/n]...yeah, I'll just switch that back." 
He shuffled around to resume his work titrating. Except Splinter stood curiously behind the desk, eyes trained close on the monitors, and then Donnie. Donnie flinched—Splinter usually didn't come in or near his lab. In fact, none of his family normally bothered him when he had his nose in his work, because none of them understood it. Not even Leo bothered to try to get the details. The details went over their heads. 
"So, Donatello, what is it you are working on?"
"Oh, Master Splinter," Donnie greeted him, glancing back to make sure the monitor was no longer on the door to her apartment. He picked up the pipette and test tube he'd knocked over before, "What is it?"
"Refer back to my last question," Splinter replied. He leaned calmly against his cane and looked all around the cluttered lab. Notes taped, tacked, even glued to walls. A whiteboard full of impossible equations, various pieces of technology in disrepair he'd picked up from trash and things going to recycling. Quite the mess, but Donnie knew where everything was. Splinter cocked his head slightly. "What disorganization," he commented.
"Disorganized to you," Donnie corrected with a smile, "but I can find anything I'm looking for—it's actually 'unorganized', implies that it never was organized. The definition of 'disorganized' suggests that something once was organized but now isn't, but I never once had this place in order," he rambled. 
"Donatello," Splinter interrupted. Once his son got talking, it was hard to stop him. He just had to interject to get a word in. "What is it you are doing? You have been very unfocused lately. This is strange for you."  
"Unfocused" was an understatement. With a mind already running miles per minute, he was getting caught up in his own head. Getting his work station back to a functional state, he set up his tube tray, answering, "Titrating these and writing out their chemical equations. The brain's like a muscle, gotta exercise it and stay sharp," he said. And with all that sharpness, he was only half-suspicious as to why Splinter was suddenly interested in what he was doing. 
Splinter nodded. "Then I must not have seen miss [y/n]'s apartment complex on your screen. Carry on." 
Donnie froze, watching Splinter out of the corner of his hazel eyes. His stomach dropped. So, it was one secret—they weren't going to understand, he was just as protective of their home, too! What if she couldn't call the police, or even them in time if someone broke in? Her apartment wasn't in a good area, Donatello already didn't like that. What if someone grabbed her? He couldn't put his mind at ease without knowing. 
"I—well, this was a recent development, you see," Donatello stuttered, fidgeting with the purple wraps around his hands. He realized then how weird it all looked and panicked. He'd never meant for it to go this far; his cautionary measures just kept escalating more and more with his feelings for her. "I swear, it's just outside of her place! I would never put a camera in her apartment, that would be creepy, and way overstepping," he explained. "I told her I'd always look out for her and that she can count on me."
"Oh, I suppose it's no problem, then, since she gave you such consent," Splinter said, looking away momentarily to scratch his chin. His eyes snapped back over to his anxious son and popped a hairy brow up as he knocked the end of his cane on the floor to grab his attention further. "Is that right, Donatello?" 
He wanted to go into his shell. I'm busted, this is not good. "Don't tell her! So, I, um…I didn't exactly…" The thought trailed off. He didn't need to finish that sentence for both of them to know. 
"Precisely my point. Now that we have made that clear, would you like to tell me what this is really about?" 
"No! I mean, I will, since you're asking, but—agh, I swear, I'm not a creep," he said. "I just wanted to make sure she'd be okay. That's it." 
Splinter crossed behind his desk, slipping an arm around his son's shell. Donnie wanted to pull away. "Come with me. Let's take a walk." 
He led them out of the Lair into the tunnels outside their home. They could loop around easily and end up back at the Lair, and Splinter knew Donnie was going to resist talking if the others could be around to hear. Sometimes, you must play on other people's terms, he thought, listening to the quiet drip echo as they ambled through the sewer. He figured it was time to do a little damage control, although he normally pledged not to interfere with his sons and them making their mistakes. However, he didn't want to see Donatello make a potentially hazardous one to himself. 
"Now, you must understand, my son, you cannot know everything at once," Splinter said, avoiding an accusatory tone. "You have a brilliant mind, but you certainly don't tend to see the obvious." 
"What do you mean, master?" Donnie questioned. The "obvious" being under any other circumstances, his actions would definitely be seen as "creepy". The notion flew right under his radar as something to worry about, as their circumstances were anything but normal. 
"Of course, you are a young man, you want to watch out for the one you love," Splinter pointed out. Donnie cringed, even though he hasn't made much of an attempt to hide that fact. He was excited to explore something new, why should he have hidden thos feelings? He didn't shout them to the world. But it was well-known among their family that he'd beaten his brothers to the punch when it came to her, and no going for it was an unwritten but understood boundary. Still, this wasn't a conversation he was prepared for have tonight; his mind was still back at his lab.
"About everyone but Michelangelo has noticed you've been retreating to your lab more often recently." He chuckled. "And your antics around her are obvious, again. Loosen your grip a little. You are annoying your brothers vying for her attention." 
Donnie felt a rush of embarrassment come over him. Yes, he was showy—expressive, maybe too quick to whisk her away to demonstrate his new inventions, the stuff he'd discovered. Donnie knew he could hyperfixate on and obsess over things; she was on his mind more than not. As for annoying his brother, he wasn't the strongest, but he was the smartest. He was much more eager with his staff and putting his siblings back in their lane when she was around. The electric component on his weapon came in handy for quick corrections, and goofing around. 
Through all of that, he remembered having a moment of clarity when she was inspecting his computer setup one night and the camera almost flickered to hers, to which he scrambled to shut it off. Conveniently, he brushed that aside. 
Donnie lifted his goggles, rubbing his face sheepishly. "I guess you're right," he admitted. 
"The things you do for love," Splinter shook his head. "Be sure you do not push her away by accident. You are fortunate I had the mind to come talk to you about this before you made a mistake and a fool of yourself. Consider it a fair warning," he said as he looked over at his son, who waited quietly for him to continue, "to not overstep." 
"I understand, loud and clear." 
Splinter nodded in agreement, "Good. I trust you will take this advice well. You have a good heart and good intentions, Donatello, do not be clouded by your mind. Your brain is not your only quality."
"Thanks, master Splinter. I'll let up on it," Donnie relented with a small smile. He was still uncomfortable, feeling a bit dumb. He always was so caught up on making predictions, keeping everything running smoothly and safely that he didn't always consider how that worked for other people. Just because it made sense to him, didn't mean it made sense to them. Note that for later, Donatello, he reminded himself. He turned around to head back to the Lair. 
Splinter stopped to take in a little sunlight from the grate above his head, stopping Donnie in his tracks. "Oh, and Donatello," he called. 
"Yeah?" 
Splinter assumed parental status, and Donnie knew that scolding tone all too well. "Tell her about it, or turn that damned camera off." 
~wooOoOOOoooOooOooo partitionnnnnnn~
Side rant: I actually hate it when people portray Donnie (except for 2012 iterations) as shy and unconfident. He is literally the opposite in 2003 and Bayverse. Donatello is not "a little baby uwu" and I'm tired of people making him look so meek 😭
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sluttywoozi · 10 months
Note
Hey Emily! Hope your road trip is going well and you're travelling safely 💞
For the prompts you posted, could I please ask for “you wouldn’t, uh, maybe, want to stay the night, would you? i just really don’t want today to end.” with Jeonghan? I've been in severe Jeonghan brainrot lol so, I thought reading about him would help keep me from impulsively writing about him myself instead.
omg hi RJ! we had a safe trip to dc and now we’re on the way to nyc! you absolutely can, jeonghan has also on my mind lately and im so happy to write him for you 💖 lowkey u should write him too tho
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“You wouldn’t, uh, maybe, want to stay the night, would you? No funny business, I just really don’t want today to end.”
Jeonghan is… nervous. Nervous out of his mind. It’s only the second date, he knows he shouldn’t be asking you this, but he’s just not ready for his time with you to be over.
He started his day by calling you to confirm the date (and he also might have wanted to hear your voice). He spent most of the morning thinking about you, and when he rolled up to your place and spotted you waving excitedly at him on the sidewalk, he finally felt like he could breathe.
He’s breathless now waiting to hear your answer, but he can see you mulling it over and doesn’t want to pressure you.
Soon enough, you give him a sweet smile and say, “I will if you let me use your skincare and your biggest t-shirt.”
“Deal,” He agrees with an easy grin before offering you his hand and helping you into his car. He’s already got the shirt picked out in his mind and thankfully, he washed his sheets yesterday so they’re all fresh and clean for you.
He wasn’t expecting anything more than a date tonight, and he’s elated you’re up for a sleepover too.
It isn’t until he’s pulling into his spot in the parking garage that he realizes this means he’ll get to sleep next to you, and wake up with you, and maybe make you breakfast and give you a kiss tasting of coffee and syrup, and maybe he’ll just go ahead and fall in love with you too.
He’s already halfway there, anyway. What’s a little further?
You chat about what movie to watch as he leads you down the hallway, Jeonghan proposing the Lego trilogy and you countering with your own favorites. You settle on a few episodes of the new drama you’ve both been wanting to see, and his hand only shakes a little as he unlocks the door and pushes it open.
He hopes you like his place; though it’s a bit small and disorganized, it feels like him and he’s proud of the space he’s managed to create. You seem like you do like it, immediately moving to his Lego display case with wide eyes and a bright smile.
Chuckling to himself, Jeonghan follows you to the plexiglass and begins to point out sets he thinks you’ll recognize. It makes for a simple ice breaker and he watches you grow more and more comfortable as the conversation flows.
It flows right over to the couch, where you wrap him up in a tale of the last time you tried to do a lego set. Apparently, your cat ate approximately fifteen pieces while you were making tea and had to go to the emergency vet. He doesn’t blame you for not wanting to attempt another after such an ordeal, though he wonders if you’d ever like to build one with him.
He’s about to ask when you remind him of the plan.
“Can I have that t-shirt? I wanna get out of these jeans, they’re the worst,” you request, grimacing and plucking at the denim.
“Yes!” He jumps up, taking your hand and tugging you up from the couch. You let out a small sound of surprise, following him on light feet to his bedroom.
Jeonghan feels a little shy as you take in his messy bed and clothes-covered chair but he tries not to show it, immediately moving to his dresser to dig out the biggest shirt he owns.
It’s plain, old, and a bit worn out, but it’s the comfiest thing in this apartment and he’s ecstatic to hand it over to you.
He points you to the bathroom, taking the time to change into his own pajamas and pretending his heart doesn’t skip in his chest when you reappear.
You tug at the hem of the shirt, though it rests about midway on your thighs, and he forces his eyes away from your legs and onto your face.
“Looks good on you,” he murmurs, offering you a hand and leading you back into the bathroom.
“Here’s my cleansing balm, and I have a few options for serums. Oh, and here’s my moisturizer.”
It’s all lined up neatly on the quartz of his counter and he watches as you pick up one of his proffered serums with a gleeful look on your face.
“You have the expensive vitamin C,” you breathe, gazing at him with wonder.
“Yeah,” he grins. “Seungkwan is an influencer and he gets a lot of PR, so he gives me his castoffs.”
“What’s it like to be God’s favorite?”
“Like a dream, if I’m being honest.”
You playfully roll your eyes at him and he bumps his hip against yours, his cheeks aching with the width of his smile.
He loves this already, feeling so domestic with you, and he’s halfway into hatching a plan to ask you to move in with him when you set the serum down and pick up the cleansing balm.
You set to work, massaging your face with clear concentration in your eyes, and Jeonghan decides to join you.
Watching and giggling at each other in the bathroom mirror, you scrub your faces clean side by side. This feels familiar to him, like it’s something he’s been doing with you for years, like it’s something he’ll be doing with you for years to come.
He’s lucky you’re busy rinsing away the balm while he comes to the realization that he might be a bit more than halfway in love with you.
It’s not ideal, especially because he’s not sure where you stand, but it is kind of exciting.
He’s never been in love before, but that has to be what this is. This comfort, this contentment, this fondness, this passion.
There’s no other explanation as to why he’s riveted watching you pat serums into your skin, why his heart is racing at the sight of you in his shirt, why he’s never been more excited to crawl into bed before.
It’s all because of you, because you’re here with him.
He only becomes more sure when you both decide to forgo the drama and just go straight to bed, curling up on your sides facing each other under the shared covers.
You talk for hours, until your eyes are falling closed and your words are mere whispers, and just before he succumbs to sleep, he sends a wish out into the universe that every single date he has with you ends like this.
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sameschmidtdiffname · 3 months
Note
hai i have a request for a mike fic, so i was thinking of a comfort/hurt type of thing and maybe like a “i didn’t know where else to go” kind of trope where reader shows up to his house in the middle of the night distressed and he comforts her
To All I Think is Safe
Mike Schmidt x Gender Neutral! Reader
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Summery: After a family dinner gone awry, something guides you somewhere where your mind can safely wander in better memories than the ones you're making right now.
Tags: No use of Y/N, no specific pronouns for Reader, mentions of arguments, heavy disassociation, heavy nosebleeding, flashbacks, first kiss, date, fear of heights, fair date, author is fucking trying, fluff.
Notes: I think my bosses want me dead. Anyway, here's Wonderwall.
                     ▪︎◇{¤♧■♧¤}◇▪︎
I can handle family. Who can't handle family?
The part of me knocking on the green door illuminated only by the orange streetlight a few yards away, trying to peak through one of the three window slots on the door to see if there's any sign of life inside of the modest house, praying that there is out of selfish desperation. That's who.
I hadn't called. Hadn't given notice. I'd been too caught up in the emotions of myself to do so, worried I'd be turned away if I had. The thought makes me feel ill now, my mind chastising me for such a self interested act.
For a moment I almost turn to leave, sure that no one is awake and that I've simply wasted the gas in the trip over here. But at the loud clunk of the door unlocking, I feel my heart jump and sink simultaneously as Mike peaks his head through the crack in the door, bags under his eyes and hair tossled from sleep.
"Hey," he croaked, blinking away the sleep as his tired face managed a look of surprise.
"Hey," I said softly, trying not to let my voice crack. But it does. "Is this a bad time?"
I don't know what gives my state away. Maybe it's how swollen my face is, puffy and burning from the overexposure to salt water. I can already feel the skin on my eyes balloning in a disastrously unattractive manner. Maybe it's the snot that's still on my face even after trying desperately to wipe it away, my problem being I'd run out of napkins in my car some time ago and hadn't replaced them, so I'd been resorted to just trying my best to sniff back the snot or use the arm of my jacket, which is now soaked and covered by my hand to conceal it, to wipe it away. God, it's fucking sticky and I feel gross. I don't understand why the snot won't just stop fucking flowing.
"Shit, you're bleeding," Mike says. His eyes widen as he steps forward, instantly dragging me into the house, down the hall and into the bathroom.
Oh. That's why my head hurts.
The white light is blinding and overstimulating in the small, disorganized room. One glance in the mirror and I can see the bottom half of my face is grossly smeared in the snot-blood combo running from my nose, my eyes bloodshot and more dry than a British comedy from all of the tears. I stare at myself for a moment, hardly even realizing Mike is yanking my coat off of me, stroking my hair and trying to ask me questions about what happened. I can hear his voice but the words are muffled, and even though my eyes are staring at him now, I don't know when I turned to face him or what I'm really looking at. I'm just staring at anything. My mother used to call it 'staring off into space.' It's actually a disassociation episode. The kind that can make me lose myself in other thoughts, making me distant from reality where I assume the worst of things.
I'm rational enough to know not to lean into him. If I throw myself into his arms I'll smear my shit everywhere and then he'll be grossed out and will have to play nice after I interrupted his sleep to beg for comfort that should come easily enough from my aforementioned mother, but clearly I'm adult enough now that I don't need coddling and I shouldn't have driven here and-
Am I saying this out loud? Because my mouth is moving and I'm trying to say something but I'll be honest, my head is in disarray and Mike looks worried. Me too, buddy. Me too.
My hands try to help his find a wash cloth in his closet, trying to be useful, but they're covered in snot and blood too and it's dried and horrid looking and I just feel like some sticky toddler that's wailing over nothing because that's what I'm doing, and I'm trying not to dissolve into a new wave of tears because my eyes really, really hurt and I'm gonna end up hiccuping and sobbing and I shouldn't even be here right now.
Mike's hands wrap around mine and he's trying to pull me somewhere. But he won't get out of my way, tugging me forward and blocking me like it's some game. Then I realize it's him he's trying to drag me to, and I try to push away, not wanting to get him dirty or let him fulfill some duty of pity just because he feels obligated seeing me in such a state. He's touching my hair and there's snot in that too and this is all just entirely too much, making me burst out sobbing once more as I try to hide my face in my arm, feeling all too vulnerable and alone while in a house that's not mine in any way, shape or form. But his arms feel nice around me, and he's guiding me to the bathtub and helping me lay down inside of it. When he pulls away I'm paranoid for a second that he'll turn the shower head on and wash me like a drunk, especially when he reaches for the shower handles. He presses a clean, white cloth to the spout and let's just a little bit of water out to wet the washcloth before turning the water off and coming closer to me, dabbing and wiping gently at the drying mixture on my face.
There's a long while of silence. Him carefully washing me, his touch gentle and caring as I feel the wet glumps with dried crusts fade away. The pounding in my head begins to dull to an overwhelming ache, making me shut my eyes as I softly groan. When I think he's done I dare peaking at him from under my lashes, trying to read his mind. His brows are furrowed, probably in disgust. Lips pressed together as he sits on the balls of his heels,, watching me carefully. Most likely he'll let me sleep on the couch and then kick me out in the morning. I'll be lucky if I get the "We should see other people" speech. I wouldn't blame him if my calls just couldn't connect when I get home, leaving me to wonder what could've been if I hadn't been so selfish.
I don't even know the time for fucks sake.
"I'm not crazy," I say in this broken voice that only a crazy person would have.
I don't know what's funny, but he's laughing. His hand reaches out to stroke my cheek, and he feels so warm. His callouses have this smooth texture to them. Working hands. It's the first thing I noticed when we held hands the first time. It was at some carnival thing, and Abby was with us. It was sweet under those neon lights. The rides always look so cheap, but there's something enchanting in that. It's what I focus on now as my mind finally begins to relax, allowing me the guilty pleasure of mentally slipping away into an actual memory instead of just static filling my mind and drowning everything else out unpleasantly.
"I know," Mike says softly, his thumb stroking the raw skin under my eye as he watches me with a gentle smile, one probably meant to hide his contempt. "You're okay."
The rides had these giant speakers built into them. And the workers would play songs from them, loud enough it was blaring in your ear on the ride but it was a reasonable volume when you were just walking around on the wet, overgrown and matted grass that curls around the giant cables Mike and I both had to be irritating about reminding Abby not to trip on, both of us looking down to watch for them more than looking at anything else.
"Do you wanna talk about it?" Mike asks gently. He's always so gentle. Well, not always.
"Ope, someone lost their drink," I said to Mike, pointing at a spilled lemonade on the dirt path that had been created by decades of the county fair foot-traffic.
"Five second rule," Mike said, his voice low and teasing in my ear, making me burst out laughing.
"That's fucking disgusting!" I exclaimed, looking at him incredulously. A mother passing by snapped 'hey!' At me, tugging her child harshly behind her as she glared. I blushed, covering my mouth with my hand at the outburst, which made Mike laugh just as hard as I just had.
I suppose I have to talk about it. I can't really just not show up at his doorstep in the middle of the night and not just explain myself. But my teeth feel cemented together, my throat full of glue that halts the words I could use to inform him of why I look like this. And my eyes are too tired to make contact with his. So I just melt into his hand, pressing it between my cheek and my shoulder. And he doesn't press any more.
"I always liked the rides that made me feel like I was flying," Mike said as we watched Abby spin round and round with some girl she often spent her days with. Lisa Something.
"Yeah?" I asked, turning to look at him, taking a drink from the giant lemonade that was not at all real lemonade and was instead some horrid sugar that's taking five years off of our lives mixed with whatever makes the color of the drink the same as construction workers glow-in-the-dark vests that I'm sure will have like, ten different studies on how it gives you some cardiovascular disorder from overexposure in twenty years. There's a waxy ring of chapstick around my straw, so it's easy to tell which one to drink from. Mike had gotten just the one giant drink and two straws, shoving them in with a smooth smile as he handed me the already sweaty, Pepsi branded cup to hold while we walked. I think he didn't know that I noticed the twelve year old boy who'd been five people ahead of us in line do the same thing with his date earlier, but it was a cute gesture nonetheless.
"Yeah. I don't know why, it just felt comforting. Wind fuckin' up my hair and shit," he said, hands shoved in his jean pockets as he watched the two girls, who are sticking their tongues out at us as they whirl by.
"What, like you were flying away from your problems?" I ask, genuinely guessing.
"Nah, I don't really think of it like that. Just felt like I was somewhere else for a bit. Could close my eyes and the only anxiety I felt was whether or not Genie there was gonna fucken drop me," he said, glancing at me and smirking as he points at the giant airbrushed painting of Genie from Aladdin on the side of the ride. That's definitely not licensed.
"Have you eaten?" Mike asks softly, coming a little closer to me as his other hand cups my opposite cheek. At that I shake my head, pressing my lips together.
"It was all just some giant fiasco," I said as I laughed while trying to aim my basketball for the hoop several feet in front of me. Mike's made like five goals in a row and is proudly holding a very cheap rainbow dolphin with lopsided eyes for me while he watches me struggle just to get one.
"What, your prom date?" He teased, leaning closer to my ear as I take a shot. And miss. Again. "Or this?"
I turned to him, glaring and trying to suppress my amused smile.
"The date was fine, my hair was horrid," I said, turning away from the man working the booth who was trying to convince me to try again.
"I always like your hair," Mike says softly, one hand stroking my hair as he presses his forehead against mine. God, why won't he just tear into me already? The anticipation is fucking killing me.
I open my mouth to respond, but I just hiccup instead. At that he gently helps me up, guiding me out of the bathroom and leading me into the kitchen where he promises a leftover bowl of chicken noodle soup has my name written all over it in the fridge.
There's a thousand insecure questions I want to ask right now. Does he hate me? Will he hate me? Is this just a prelude to an awful breakup? But instead I just cling to my thoughts quietly, not wanting an answer to anything. Reality fading in and out of focus.
The kitchen is quiet as he moves about, dishing out the leftovers and putting them in the cheap, stained microwave he'd had to buy when Abby blew up the last one with a pitiful attempt at making her own rice Krispy treats. He leans against the counter as we wait for the rattling machine to finish, neither of us really saying anything as my leg bounces wildly in anxiety.
"Are you okay?" Mike asks softly after a moment, tilting his head. His arms are crossed in front of him, which is normal for Mike but it still makes me on edge.
I try again to speak, but I can't. It feels like I'll just blow up again if I do. So I just shrug instead, not wanting to talk about the lengthy screaming match I'd managed to find myself in earlier that night.
The microwave beeps loudly, causing us both to start, Mike pulling the door open quickly to shut it up and take out the now hot bowl, hissing under his breath at himself for not grabbing a towel as he quickly moves to set it down in front of me. If I'd been in a better state I would've laughed at the admittedly comical sight, but I felt like I'd done enough at his expense for one night.
Once situated, there's long while of silence. No other noise except for my spoon clinking against my bowl as I eat quietly, Mike watching me across the glass table as he takes a few drinks from his clear glass of water, head on his large hand. A clock ticks in the other room, the hour later than I'd wanted to be when I showed up unannounced.
"I'm sorry," I finally say in a soft voice, my spoon scraping soundlessly against the maroon bowl. "I just didn't know where else to go."
He smiles softly at that, his hand reaching across the table for mine. The touch meant to be comforting instead sends me back into my thoughts, my body stiffening as my mind tries to distract me from my anxiety and doubt.
Our hands had been brushing against each other for hours as we'd walked. Both of us were too nervous to take the others, which is a bit silly since we were grown adults. But really we hadn't had any serious discussions yet. We were still in the dinners and texting phase, dancing around any serious 'what is this' talks until we felt like we would both have similar answers ready for any questions. The night had settled in solidly now, the fairgrounds only alive by the bright lights of the rides.
The grazing, however, had come to an end when the ferris wheel started clicking towards what felt like my untimely demise.
I fucking hate ferris wheels, fun fact.
I don't think Mike particularly likes them either, based off of how stiff his body was next to mine, his eyes trained dead ahead, his jaw clenched. I think he might break a tooth. Or maybe I'm projecting.
Abby and Lisa had been insistent on riding it, and had been even more insistent that Mike and I needed to ride something with them before the night was over. And even though we both looked at the thing with a pit in our stomach, neither of us felt ridiculous about being grown adults on that ride as opposed to all the others flooded with teens and kids dodging in and out, stomping in puddles of who knows what on their way to the next ride. So we gritted our teeth, handed over our tickets and got into the cart right behind Abby and Lisa, who wouldn't stop looking back at us with amused eyes, whispering into each other's each as they covered their mouths.
"My dad worked as a carnie," I blurted out as we hung mid air, halfway up the ride while they still loaded people in. "These things are fucken sturdy."
Mike didn't look at me. Or at least he didn't turn his head. I didn't either. His silence makes my anxiety a bit worse, wondering if my random fact had somehow irritated him, or if there was something I was supposed to do that I wasn't picking up on.
"... I'm gonna die to Creed," he finally said between his gritted teeth.
My brows furrow for a moment before I realize what song is playing, and then I'm laughing. Maybe a little too much, but that's the anxiety. Abby and Lisa are darting their heads around to look down at us, trying to see what's set me off, and Creed's taking One Last Breath on the blaring radio somewhere around us as they have been for the past however many months with the top song.
"I'm never gonna escape this, they play this way too much at work," I laughed. And he started laughing too, both of us white knuckled as we gripped the bar in front of us. Then we move up again, and the cart is slightly rocking, making me feel ill.
"That's okay," Mike says softly, his thumb trailing across my knuckles as I stare down at our hands. "I was missing you, anyways."
I look up at him, trying to read his expression, my head still trying to balance my focuses. There's concern in his eyes, obvious as he realizes how awful this particular episode is.
Abby is yelling something at us, but my head is buzzing with too much anxiety to hear her.
"Go away!" Mike yells back at her, waving his hand in irritation, then stopping as he realizes he's rocking the cart. He looked back at me anxiously, trying to smile. It just looked like he'd been shot instead. "Sisters," he said shyly.
"What's she saying?" I asked him, leaning closer to hear him better over the heavy guitar.
"Nothing," he insisted. "She's just being twelve."
I go to look up, only to feel his hand on top of mine, warm and strong as he grips it a little too hard for the first time, but I think that's out of anxiety too. No matter what, the first move makes me more dizzy.
"Your dad worked fairs?" He asked anxiously, obviously trying to change the subject.
"I should've called first," I say softly, leaning onto the table and pushing the empty bowl away from me as I lay on top of my arm.
"It's okay," he reminds me in a soft voice, rising from his chair while still holding my hand. "You're home now."
"Well, I'm at your home now," I hiccup into my arm. His arms wrap around me, guiding me up and into his warm embrace that I'd been longing for for what felt like hours.
"I thought you said you liked flying!" I laughed, terrified.
"Flying! This is sitting still while dangling above death!" Mike clarified. The carts began clicking again, and we now had an easier view of the two girls in front of us, making him gasp and yell out Abby's full name in scolding.
I see why he didn't want me to look up. Abby and Lisa are miming a make-out session while they giggle obnoxiously.
"Oh my God, I'm gonna fucking ground her," he groaned, covering his forehead with his other hand. His face is completely red, his body so stiff it feels like I could break off his arm with barely any pressure, and my own heart is slamming so hard against my chest I think it's visible.
One more click and we'll be at the top. Great.
He's looking down at me, I think he's trying to get me to refocus but I just can't. I've done my duties for the night, and now I'm stuck in this emotional pit of hatred and numbness as my mind tries to remind me of a better time that just makes me feel worse because Mike is speaking again and I just can't hear him.
"She's being a wingman. Really, she's just spotting a good opportunity," I rambled in Abby's defense. Mike glanced at me, then at the tweens in front of us.
"Yeah?" He asked, his voice nerve wracked.
"Oh yeah. Every little sister does it. I mean, it's partially based in torture, but overall she's trying to help," I said quickly, my breath shortening.
"Are you okay?" He asked, looking just as pale as me.
"I fucking hate heights, please distract me," I pleaded quickly, only to immediately feel his teeth click loudly against mine as he kissed me, his lips sweet with sugar and hands nearly breaking mine from his tight grip, Abby and Lisa whooping obnoxiously in front of us as we freeze in the moment. It's clumsy, certainly. And it's obvious on both ends how long it's been since either of us have done this. But it's an effective method, my mind beginning to refocus on the taste of the borderline awful lemonade fresh on his breath, his shaking hand moving from the bar to cup my cheek cold from the wind. My eyes widen in surprise, the music swelling around us and the lights somehow brighter as we rock above the rest of the fair in the squeaking booth.
When he pulls away, there's a soft smile on his face, his tongue quickly darting out to taste his own lips.
"... I like your chapstick," he said shyly, neither of us focused on the fact that we're now moving steadily in the ride, fully tuned in to the other.
"Thanks," I said softly, cheeks burning against his touch. "Strawberry."
There's a long second of nothing, and I'm vaguely aware of Abby and Lisa screaming "Can You Feel the Love Tonight?" And someone is trying to shush them. I know it's not Mike because he's staring at me like an idiot. Completely satisfied and dramatically more calm as he leans in for another kiss, this time pulling me fully into his embrace.
"You're home," Mike repeats against my lips, then moving to trail along my cheeks, his hands carefully cupping my face once more as his touch grounds me back in reality. "I'll be here when your mind gets back."
As my own hands graze along his soft, cotton shirt, I feel my pulse begin to relax. Doubt beginning to creep away as his lips trail along my jaw, slowly working to my neck. It's not a demanding touch. It's just comfort. And he'll keep doing this until I return to him like I always do, and then he'll keep doing it until we both fall asleep in a tight embrace under a dozen blankets, half of which will be gone by morning as we wake in a pool of sweat across the bed from each other, only to seek the other out again in wakefulness. And there will be answers for his questions, and I'll be fine.
I'm home now.
                             ¤▪︎{♧}▪︎¤
I FINALLY FUCKING PUBLISHED SOMETHING. HOLY FUCK I'M OVERWORKED. (Fun fact, this was fucking hard because I was actively disassociating while writing the whole thing. Reader just like me frfr)
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@cassiecasluciluce @gh0u1ishly @joshhutchersons-slut @schmidtsbimbo @sugarevans @wompwompwomp57 @jhutchissupercool. Thank you for your support pookies!!! <3
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Text
The Christmas Present
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This fic will cover my Dates Keep Getting Interrupted square on my 2nd @jacklesversebingo card. ❤️
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Summary: Y/N is beginning to wonder just where she fits into Jensen's life. Is she expendable?
Warnings/Explicit 18+: Pretty much all fluff. A wee tiny bit of smut. Just a wisp of oral (f receiving) and unprotected PinV sex. Nothing really explicit. Pretty much a smidge of angst and mostly fluff.
Pairings: Jensen x Reader
Word Count: 2,599
A/N: Here is the next request for my second @jacklesversebingo card. This one came from a lovely anon who asked this:
hi! how about an angsty “dates keep getting interrupted” with jensen? something along the lines of him being busy and just simply being swamped with work but reader feels like jensen might not be in love with them anymore.
I basically took that first idea in your request and ran with it sweetie! Hope you enjoy this one. It ran a bit fluffy, but I hope you like it.
The beautiful dividers used here are from @talesmaniac89
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Y/N inhaled deeply as she pulled the freshly made pumpkin pie out of the oven. She looked at it with pride; she’d made it from scratch because she knew it was Jensen’s favorite this time of year.
And he was finally coming home. 
For the last month and a half he’d been working all the way across the country and in all that time, they’d been relegated to nothing but video calls and texting. When he took the job the week before Thanksgiving she’d been disappointed they wouldn’t get to spend the holiday together. But as Jensen had assured her, it was only a month of shooting, and he was only one, six hour flight away; they’d visit lots and he’d be home a good week or more before Christmas.
But the shoot had dragged on and on with an inexperienced director and a picky and demanding producer. Everything was so disorganized that Jensen had made it home only one time in those six weeks, and he’d been swamped with press the entire time, as well as trying to fit in meetings with his manager, agent, and another producer considering him for a different project. It meant that in his one day at home Y/N had him to herself for barely more than an hour, during which, he'd been completely, understandably, exhausted.
Four other trips home had been planned, complete with date nights Y/N put together that would allow them to go out together, but also stay in together a lot too. But all four times  those trips and those dates had been canceled. Even a desperately planned skype dinner date had only lasted a half hour before one of the PAs came banging on Jensen's trailer to drag him away to help with some unforeseen dilemma on set.
Y/N was sick with missing him. She knew he missed her too, but lately she’d been wondering...just how much?
How hard was he really trying to get home? How important was she to him? Was she just a girlfriend he was saddled with, someone he was obligated to try and get home to see? Was she just a scheduling conflict - one of the smaller ones, easily brushed aside for something more important?
After their last canceled date, she'd even asked herself the question that terrified her...was he losing interest? After a year and three months of dating...was she still loving him while he had one foot out the door?
Her mind shied away from answering those questions. She wasn't sure she wanted to know the answers.
But two days ago he’d called her up to say he was finally going to be wrapped the following day, and he’d be home early Christmas morning. She’d seen his plane ticket and everything; it was going to be the best Christmas present she could get.
So she’d made his favorite pie in celebration.
As she set the pie on the rack to cool, she heard a notification bing, telling her she had a video call from Jensen. She felt knots form in her stomach, but decided he was probably just calling to say he was getting on the plane in a few hours. 
He’d just text you for that, she thought, but she brushed the thought aside.
She sat down at her kitchen table, and clicked her mouse to answer, smiling as Jensen’s face appeared on her laptop screen.
“Hey.” She said, overly cheerful.
“Hey.” He said back, and she could hear the waver in his voice, but she ignored that too.
“How are you?” She asked.
His jaw clenched and she felt her stomach plummet further. 
“I’m…not good…I…” His green eyes looked at her through the screen, regret etched deep into his verdant irises. “I’m so sorry, baby - “ he began, but Y/N cut him off with a cry of disappointment.
“No! No!” She denied loudly. “What the hell? You said you’re wrapped, you said -”
“I know, I know. But they’ve decided they need a shit ton of reshoots, there’s a bunch of stuff they said they didn’t like, and…” He trailed off. “I’m so sorry.”
Y/N turned her face away from the camera as she nodded in heartbroken acceptance, trying to hide her eyes swimming in tears. “But…” she cleared her throat. “This is like the fifth time you’ve had to cancel, can’t they understand that? I mean, it’s Christmas. Why the hell do they need you to work on Christmas?” Her voice rose at the end, anger seeping through to fill in her cracked heart.
“I don’t know.” Jensen said with a shrug, and the gesture made her anger take a swift turn towards him. “It’s Hollywood, they don’t always give a shit about things like national holidays.”
“Well, they should!” She shouted. “I mean, what the hell? Do they think they own you? Why don’t you just tell them to fuck off?”
“Y/N -”
“Seriously, that’s basically what you’ve been telling me to do for the past six weeks, but you can't even tell them once?”
The muscle ticked in Jensen’s jaw again. “Y/N, I’ve spent the last day and a half doing nothing but trying to get them to listen to me, to agree to let me go for a day or two and then come back, but -”
“Wait!” Y/N cut him off. “You’ve known about this for a day and a half and you’re only telling me now?” Her voice was incensed and furious. 
Jensen threw up his hands. “I was hoping I could get out of it, Y/N! I was…look, I’m sorry." His anger was obvious but she couldn't tell if it was directed at her or not. "Don’t you think I’m disappointed too?”
“Are you?” Y/N asked before she could stop herself.
Jensen’s face grew suddenly calm. “What does that mean?” He asked.
Y/N shook her head. “Nothing. It just means that it’s been six weeks, and so many canceled dates and plans, I mean…”
“Five weeks.” Jensen interjected as she paused for a breath.
Y/N scowled at him. “What?”
“It’s only been five weeks.”
Y/N clenched her teeth. “Oh well, excuse me! Then, I guess - who cares?"
Jensen was shaking his head. “No, look I just meant to say that I’m well aware of how long it’s been since I’ve gotten to see you, but…” He looked slightly defeated. “I don’t…I mean, I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”
Y/N’s heart sank. She smiled sadly and nodded at him. “Yeah, well, you should know. That’s uh…” She sniffed and wiped her fingers across her cheeks. “That’s sort of the problem.”
Jensen opened his mouth to say something, but when he hesitated, Y/N just gave him another broken smile. 
“Merry Christmas.” She said softly before clicking off the call.
***
Y/N sat slumped on her couch with a half eaten pumpkin pie discarded on her coffee table. On the TV, Ebeneezer Scrooge was calling out Merry Christmas to everyone in the street below him, having realized the true meaning and value of Christmas. Y/N’s face was nothing but frowning lips and a scowl as she shut off her TV.
“Bah, humbug.” She countered quietly.
Her heart was actually hurting; a physical ache had taken up residence in her chest and she rubbed her palm over it trying to ease the sting. 
All she could see was Jensen’s face as she'd ended the call. And whenever she saw his face the fear started that it was going to be the last time she saw it - at least the last time off the silver screen.
She’d picked up the phone a dozen times to call him, but she never managed to hit “call” before tossing her phone down and crying some more. Now it was almost one in the morning and she picked it up again. This time she managed to press his name and hit the green call button.
It went straight to voicemail. The beep sounded and she contemplated hanging up. But after a pause she spoke, clearing her throat first.
“Hey, it’s me…but you probably saw that already.” Another long pause. “So…I was hoping you’d pick up, but…you’re probably sleeping. I just…wanted to…”
She paused long enough that she was worried she’d be cut off, so she rushed out the rest. “Just wanted to say I love you.” Her throat caught. “And Merry Christmas.” 
She heard a beep in her ear. “Oh,” she said, surprised, “I’ve got another call.” She saw Jensen’s name on the caller ID and hung up with the voicemail.
“Jensen?” She said tentatively as she answered.
“Hey.” He said softly.
“Hi. I was just…” She let out a burst of slightly nervous laughter. “I just left you a message.”
“Oh?” Jensen asked. “What did you say?”
“Just…just Merry Christmas, and…love you.” She answered, her voice almost shy. Then she burst out full voice. “Jensen I’m sorry. I didn’t meant to -”
But Jensen cut her off. “No, baby, I’m sorry. That’s the whole point.”
The tension eased slightly from their voices and Y/N tried to explain her disappointment. “I just miss you.”
“I know, believe me, I know.”
She was going to say something else, but Jensen spoke first. “I had something delivered to you.”
“You what?” Y/N asked with a laugh of surprise. “You had something delivered to me, from across the country, at one in the morning on Christmas Eve?”
“Yeah, it should have been there by now. It’s probably already sitting on your porch. Go check. But stay on the phone with me cause it’s after midnight.”
Y/N giggled a little breathlessly and ran to the front door. She grabbed her sweater from the peg beside it and pulled it on against the snowy chill outside. She opened the door and peered out, but she didn’t see anything. 
She stepped tentatively outside in her slippers. “There’s nothing here.” She told him. “I hope someone didn’t steal it.” She worried.
“No, it’s okay, I got it.”
Y/N's head whipped around as Jensen’s voice echoed tinnily through the phone. Her face froze as he walked towards her from the side of the porch, holding a box in his hand.
Y/N gasped loudly and then immediately screamed, running forward to throw herself into Jensen’s arms, making him drop the box. She wrapped her arms around him, holding on for dear life
His strong arms wrapped her up, cuddling her close against his thick, navy blue winter coat. She buried her face in his chest and wept unabashedly. He placed a kiss on the crown of her head and then kept his cheek pressed there while she cried her fill of happy tears. She finally pulled back to look up at him, with tear tracks mottling her skin. His big hands were cold as he pushed her hair back and cupped her cheeks.
“What are you doing here?” She asked. “How did you manage this? What did you tell them?”
Jensen shrugged. “Told ‘em to fuck off.” She choked on her laughter as he continued. “I told them in slightly more polite terms, but not by much.”
She shook her head, a worried smile on her face. “But Jensen, you’re gonna get in trouble.” 
“I don’t care.”
“You’re gonna get fired.” 
“I don’t care.”
When she opened her mouth to speak again, he kissed her, sucking away her breath and warming her from head to toe. Then he pulled away before pulling her close, tucking his face into the crook of her neck, and speaking against her skin. “I don’t care about anything more than I care about you.”
He pushed on her shoulders so he could look her in the eye. “You are everything to me Y/N and I need you to know that.”
He cupped her cheeks again, thumbs brushing away her newest tears. “So, to that end…” he bent down and scooped up the box he’d dropped. He brushed the fluffy snow from it and handed it to Y/N for her to open. “Merry Christmas.”
Y/N felt her heart race and then lodge in her throat as she cracked open the ring-sized box. Sure enough, nestled inside on a bed of velvet was a beautiful, elegant, gold engagement ring.
Jensen bent to one knee, and she started sobbing, trying desperately to hear him over her own noisy joy.
His bright, green gaze was sure and steady and overflowing with love. She wondered now, how she could ever have doubted it.
“I need you to know,” He began, “that I love you more than anything. That there is nothing,” he emphasized, “nothing more important to me than you. And for the rest of our lives I wanna be with you on all our Christmases and every New Year’s Eve, and Valentine’s Day, Fourth of Julys, hell, Arbor Days even!” he said with a watery chuckle. “It doesn’t matter what I’m celebrating, I wanna be celebrating it with you.”
He slipped the ring on her finger and she cried harder. After a minute he squeezed her hand. “Is there a yes in there, maybe - this snow’s cold on the knee.”
Y/N laughed merrily and threw her arms around his neck. “Yes!” She shouted, and squealed as he stood up, and spun her around in a dizzying circle. 
“Thank god.” He said quietly as he brushed his thumb across her mouth. “Fuck, I missed you, baby. Please say I can kiss you now.”
Y/N's belly clenched and her breathing kicked up a notch as she nodded and breathed against his cool lips. “Yes, god.” She sighed.
He kissed her deeply, sweeping his tongue past her lips and licking up into the roof of her mouth. Many breathless minutes later, Jensen pulled back and wore a contemplative look. “Mmm…you taste like pumpkin pie.”
Y/N smiled. “Oh yeah, I made you a pumpkin pie.” His eyes lit up. “But I ate it.”
Jensen laughed and began kissing and nibbling on her neck. “Well, then I guess I just gotta feast on you.”
He pushed her back through her front door and slammed it shut, kicking off his shoes and pulling off her sweater as he went. By the time he got her to her bedroom, he had them both stripped to nothing. They fell easily onto the bed, clinging to each other and savoring the closeness they’d missed for so long.
Jensen kissed her slowly, skating his lips across her skin, stopping to lick and nip at different peaks and valleys of her body, making her arch into him and card her fingers through his hair. She tugged on it as his soft, smooth beard tickled her skin, before moaning deeply as it scratched against the delicate skin of her inner thighs.
Jensen kept her coming on his tongue for a very long time, till she was shaking and shuddering and begging him to fill her up.
“Jensen, please,” she panted, “I need you so close to me.”
Jensen understood exactly what she meant. Seconds later he pushed into her welcoming heat, home at last, finding the bliss he always found in her arms, and giving it back to her. 
***
Christmas morning dawned bright and sunny and Y/N stretched languidly, rousing Jensen beside her, smiling as he gave out a sleepy moan. She turned to face him and gently traced her finger down the line of his nose and then began counting his cinnamon freckles, connecting them as she went.
Another small moan issued from Jensen’s throat. “S’early.” He mumbled. “Why’re you wake?”
She placed kisses all along his tight, square jaw before she answered. “I was just admiring my gift.”
He cracked one eye and looked at her left hand as it passed over his chest. A small smile lit his face and he ran a finger over her engagement ring. “You like, sweetheart?”
Y/N nodded. “Oh, definitely. The ring is gorgeous.” She moved quickly, climbing on top of him and straddling his hips, surprising a deep groan out of him; she could feel him harden beneath her. “But that’s not the gift I was talking about.”
She braced herself against his shoulders and rolled her hips against him before leaning down and pressing her lips softly to his, her voice teasing and full of love.
“Merry Christmas, Christmas present.”
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littlejuicebox · 4 months
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Hello Gina! Been loving your stories a lot specially Astarion talks in his sleep and My Sun, My Moon 1&2! which is why I wanna try if you can do a one shot of their 1st anniversary of marriage! 🤭 just wondering how it was for them, usually they say the 1st year is the toughest one but i wanna see how you see it 🤭 Many thanks!! i look forward to more stories!
Hello, my friend! <3
I really love this prompt! Marriage is hard and Astarion has his quirks that would def make him frustrating to Tav! Love isn't always sunshine and rainbows.
I took this in a slightly different direction, it's a reflection on their first major argument! Hope you like it. <3
Warnings/Tags: not edited or beta read / In-game spoilers, fluff/angst w comfort / married people having an argument / this follows my HC fics for redemption Astarion x Tav but I'm pretty sure it can be read as a OneShot
Word Count: 1.7K
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Astarion cannot concentrate on the blasted contract in front of him any longer. The delivery should have been here by now.
He only had a few hours before you returned from the Upper City and his entire plan for your first anniversary would be shot if the florists didn’t hurry the hells up.
“You said they would arrive by midday and now it’s nearly teatime, Pascal!” Astarion snaps at his steward, a middle-aged human with wide set eyes and a scar running horizontally along his nose bridge.
Pascal sits on the far end of Astarion’s office, reviewing a ledger. He slowly raises his eyes from the document to meet the petulant visage of his employer.
“That is what the florist told me, my Lord. But it is quite a large order. Fifty night-blooming plants and shrubs would likely take several carts, sir. It’s certainly possible they’ve run into delays along the way.” Pascal responds, his voice gentle but unbothered, as if he’s grown used to placating the moods of the vampire over the past year.
Astarion simply huffs in response, “We did not pay a premium for those ingrates to simply—“
He stops as his highly acute hearing catches the sound of wheels turning along the manor’s pebbled drive. By the raucous sound of it, there are several wagons making their way towards the home's entrance.
“Pascal, they're here. I will go greet them; round up the other servants and have them stop what they’re doing immediately. We will need all hands to make up for lost time.” Astarion says as he tosses the contract he’d been reviewing, leaving it with a large stack of papers scattered across his desk.
Several of those papers had the remnants of ink splotches and blood splatters from an hours-long drafting session he’d done on a business proposal the day prior. The goblet he'd been drinking from yesterday, dirtied with now-dried blood, sits haphazardly in the corner of the desk.
Astarion struggled to contain his natural propensity toward sloppiness. His mind often worked far too quickly for him to slow down and pay attention to trivial things like bloodstains and spilled ink.
However, after multiple gentle chastisements and one angry explosion from you, he’d managed to curb his disorganization to his office, which you accepted. The argument you two had, prior to coming to this arrangement, had truly terrified him.
The pale elf makes sure to grab the goblet and place it out in the foyer for the maid to grab; she had never been allowed to enter the master bedchambers or his office, for privacy. You two were responsible for keeping those areas tidy. Astarion did... almost nothing to his office, while you kept everything pristine in the bedroom.
Except for that one time before the argument. His mind wanders as he exits the office, reflecting on the memory that keeps him cleaning up his goblets.
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He could tell by your voice alone that you were angry. Furious, in fact. The sound ripped him away from the contractor agreement he'd been reviewing.
“Astarion! How many times do I have to ask you to not leave cups of blood in the bedchambers!” Your voice came booming down the hallway before you burst into the office, causing the door to slam into the wall with a loud thud. His eyes caught sight of the angry red splotches on your face, and then trailed down to your wedding dress, clutched in your shaking hand.
There was a large, crimson bloodstain smattered along the train. He almost fainted at the sight.
So many hours of his own work. Drenched in blood.
“I’d laid this out for the servants to frame today, and Scratch ran into the bedroom and knocked the goblet of blood — that you left there, completely full, by the way — off your nightstand and onto the dress!” You were waving the grown vehemently as you spoke, voice cracking toward the end.
Oh, his little love was infuriated. His gut sank at the thought.
The anger in your voice sounded entirely foreign, it was rare for you to speak in such a manner to anyone. But towards him? Never. You always spoke to him in soft, adoring tones and little whispers. The only time you truly raised your voice had been in bed, and he rather liked it then.
But this? He did not like this one bit. It made his undead heart thrum with anxiety.
“My love, I—“ He begins, his voice honeyed and smooth in the usual tone he used to appease you, but you cut him off.
“I’m sick of your excuses and your words, Astarion! I’m sick of cleaning up after you! I have asked you more than once to not bring blood into the bedroom and you've deliberately ignored me. And the one time I don’t remove the damned goblet from the bedchamber look what happened! I can’t keep—“
You were crying by then. Large, angry tears rolling in streams down your face as you swiped angrily at your eyes. That dress, and the hours of work he'd put into it, had been a testimony of his love to you. His actions had made your heart soar; seeing the gown ruined caused your heart to break entirely.
And Astarion's heart almost broke at the sight of his little love so distraught, but he had no words nor actions to soothe you.
You closed your eyes and took a deep breath; he watched as the patches of red faded from your cheeks. When you opened them, the sight scared him and when you spoke, he was terrified.
Your face was blank, unreadable. Your tone was resigned. In that moment, in the absence of any discernible emotion, he felt certain you were going to leave him.
Eight months into a marriage and he was already failing; he knew he hadn't been cut out for this.
“I am very patient with you, Astarion. We both knew this wouldn’t be easy… with well, everything. Your condition, navigating my newfound fame, easing back into normalcy when we both have our baggage... but I chose this. I chose you. I choose you every day. Over and over. A hundred times a day."
You paused, and your eyes flicked between his, searching for something.
“I just wish I felt like you were still choosing me, too.”
And then you were gone. You left the dress crumpled on the floor as you turned and walked away.
As he moved from his desk to pick the garment up from the ground, he heard you call for Scratch and exit the front door. The sun was out, he couldn't follow you. And even if he did, there would be nothing he could say to placate you. He needed to give you time and space and wait for you to come to him; it was something he’d learned over the past eight months. Although he hated it.
So, he stayed in his office, trying to work, and failing at that, too.
After a few more hours, it was time to head to bed. When he entered your shared bedroom, he realized the goblet you'd spoken about had splattered over the sheets and onto the carpet, as well. He removed the goblet from the bedroom and placed it in the foyer; and then he changed the sheets, which you usually did. He waited for you to come to bed, but you never showed. Hadn’t he given you enough time by now?
Eventually he traveled to the guest chambers, certain you must be there sulking, and when he attempted to enter the room, the door was locked. He knocked tentatively on the door.
"Tav, darling--"
"No. And don't you dare pick the lock, Astarion."
"Tav, my sweet, please--"
"Please, Astarion. Please just leave me alone."
He wanted to pick the lock. Wanted to break down the door. Wanted to hold you in his arms and whisper apologies in your ear until you forgave him. But you always told him that his actions spoke louder than his words; honeyed lamentations would not work on you. Another thing he’d learned this past eight months.
And then he thought of the dress, which he'd left draped across the sofa in his office.
While you slept, Astarion set to work. He could have outsourced the task, sure... but truthfully, he did not trust anyone else with the fine detailing work he had spent several hours doing with his own hands. He'd created the masterpiece himself, after all, so perhaps it was best he restores it himself.
He worked gently, and for several hours, scrubbing the blood out of the fine fabric. His time with Cazador had taught him many things, and unfortunately a skill he used more often than he liked happened to be removing bloodstains from nearly any fabric.
By the time the gown was restored, his hands were raw from hours immersed in the harsh combination of soaps, chemicals, and water. It was past noon when he finished; you had certainly risen by now, but you hadn't come looking for him.
Astarion asked Pascal to place the gown in the sunroom to dry and then resigned himself to his office, back to reviewing contracts.
It was several hours later when you knocked on the office door, eyes downcast and face remorseful.
He didn't say anything, he just simply opened his arms and you crossed into the office before folding yourself in his lap. A few moments of quiet passed between you.
"I saw what you did to the dress. It must have taken hours... thank you." You finally whispered as your face nestled into the side of his neck. Your hot breath tickled, and he hummed in acknowledgement.
"It did, darling. And the skin on my hands certainly is not happy about it," He starts, and your hand comes to his as you bring it closer to your face, examining the uncharacteristically cracked knuckles and reddened flesh, "But you are worth the effort. And more. I'm sorry about the cups, my love.”
You placed a kiss on his chapped knuckle. An acceptance of the apology. And then you turned to face him and pressed a soft, tentative peck on his lips that made his entire body melt into you. Before long you two wound up on the floor of his office, and he made sure to use his actions to ensure you knew just how much he cared about you. How much he chose you.
And every day since then, he'd been certain to no longer bring goblets in the bedroom, and always leave them sitting in the foyer for the maid regardless of what room he was in. A tiny daily action signifying his love for you.
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gunwoos · 10 months
Text
kim gun-woo relationship headcanons (sfw + nsfw)
a/n: warning these r random and disorganized 😭 also haven't written anything fanfic like in ages so sorry if these aren't the best!
he's such a gentleman/romantic
i feel like getting into a relationship with him, you're either childhood friends with him or u guys become friends when the whole smile capital stuff starts and u slowly realize ur feelings for each other.
even tho he's shy i honestly see him confessing his feelings for u unless ur the one to do it first.
he's very timid/shy especially for the first few weeks u guys are dating
he's just so nervous and really likes u and doesn't wanna mess anything up
when he opens up and gets 100% used to the relationship stuff it's amazing tho
i don't think he'd be super into pda like he'd definitely hold ur hand, sling an arm around u, and hug u in public, maybe even give u a quick kiss but anything more than that he's saving for when ur alone
his love language is definitely a mix of gift giving and physical touch (maybe acts of service too i can't decide)
gives the best hugs. he's so tall and sweet and his MUSCLES. will hug u from behind while ur doing stuff too and put his chin on your head/shoulder
he LOVES having u at his matches, especially if it's a tournament. you're like his good luck charm (he's good regardless of whether or not ur there but it's sweet ok)
or if he's just having a normal practice or training session he loves having u there to watch and support him
we all know he's an early riser and likes to workout / go for runs in the morning. he always invites u to go and if u actually agree he's over the moon
even if u barely participate or give up partway through he's just so happy ur there with him
loves when u wear his clothes. especially if u guys live together he's got that mindset of "my things r yours too"
he loves seeing u in his jackets, shirts, sweaters etc. especially if ur shorter/smaller than him he finds it's so cute
also if u guys r out and u forget to wear a jacket he won't even hesitate to give u his. like u go to mention that it's kinda chilly out and he already has his jacket off and is putting it over ur shoulders
his mom absolutely loves u. we all know he's a mommas boy so he's just so happy seeing u guys interact and get along so well
i see him being very traditional. pays for ur meals if u go out to eat, opens doors for u, my mind is blank thinking of other examples but he's just so sweet and such a gentleman
woojin third wheels u guys all the time. geonwoo is his bestfriend and he lowkey sulks when u guys hangout without him
i feel like unless u were already friends with woojin before u started dating geonwoo he'd give u a hard time at first. he's all like "i was here first 😒"
but eventually he warms up to u and u guys would be besties
u and woojin probably bicker a lot (playfully) and geonwoo just loves that u guys get along well enough to joke with each other. he just kinda watches u bicker back and forth like "😊" and doesn't interfere unless one of u brings him into it
he's definitely protective but just in a way that he wants to keep u safe, he's very secure and he knows he's strong and that he can protect u if he needs to
he also knows that u can handle urself tho, especially if ur a boxer like him
this man is cuddly. any cuddling position is perfect to him like he'll be big spoon, little spoon, whatever but i feel like he'd especially love just falling asleep with his head on your chest
idk if he'd be into pet names but i think he'd call u "babe, baby, honey, sweetie" or some kinda nickname based off of your name
nsfw under ⬇️
this man can be TIMID especially for the first few months of ur relationship when u guys do stuff. like believe me he wants to just as much as u do but he would never wanna make u uncomfortable so he waits for u to initiate stuff for a little while
checks on u like every 2 minutes and before doing anything "is this ok?" "are u sure?" "can i __?"
i feel like he's definitely very traditional or "vanilla" in bed, i don't see him being kinky or liking it rough or anything like that but if ur into that kinda stuff he'd probably be open to experimenting
such a giver. don't get me wrong he loves receiving, but u would definitely have to initiate it he'll never ask u to
as i said before this man is a giver. he gives and gives and gives
this man would happily die between your thighs. i'm telling u he's obsessed with eating u out. he doesn't care abt his pleasure as much, he just wants u to feel good
this man just goes straight in too. he's like "can i?" and as soon as u say yes he's slinging ur legs over his shoulders and diving in
he's so good at it too like. he makes it his goal in life to know what u like and what u dislike and that includes in the bedroom. he makes mental notes in his head of everything and the reactions u have to stuff so he can improve for later
if u do give him head, he's total putty in ur hands. anything u do and the fact that it's you doing this to him just makes it 10x better. he makes sure to return the favour after
lowkey has a praise kink, giving and receiving. when u tell him how good he's doing he just melts he loves it
is big on eye contact. he likes how intimate it is and the non-verbal reassurance from it
likes holding hands or having your hands in his hair
he whimpers. i don't think he'd be very vocal but when he realizes u like it when he is he tries to be a bit more open and do it more
loves kissing u during it and just peppering kisses all over u. i don't think he'd leave hickeys unless u asked him to tho
this man has stamina. we all know he's super athletic so he's prepared to go for as many rounds as u feel up to
he's also very gentle. he's strong and knows his own strength and would never wanna hurt u or be rough with u
he's just so sweet i cant even
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evermoresversion · 11 months
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Hey
Could you write a nick leister fic where his gf suffers with type one diabetes and suffers from a glucose attack and he helps her recover from the attack and after they cuddle <3
ㅤㅤ♡⃕ ﹙there for you, nick leister.﹚
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A/N For this I based it on a scene from the netflix movie purple hearts. I hope you like it a lot, thx for your request. <3
PAIRING Nick Leister x Fem!Reader.
TW/TAGS Mention of diseases such as diabetes, established relationship.
SUMMARY You suffer from type one diabetes, you have always been careful with your treatment and you make sure that your glucose monitor is under control, and even Nick makes sure of that too. Until one day you got too careless and had a diabetic attack, in which Nick helped you.
NICK'S MASTERLIST | MASTERLIST
Since you were little, you were diagnosed with type one diabetes. So since then you have had to deal with the whole process and treatments.
So when you grew up you were already totally used to living with it in a calm and peaceful way. Almost.
One day when you were busy for most of the day and far from home, you forgot your glucose packets in there.
When you had just arrived, Nick was waiting for you at the door of this one, your mother was not at home so it was you and Nick alone.
Both already entering your room he left his things on the night table that you had on one side of your bed.
"Tomorrow dad wants you to join us for dinner, if you'd like." He began to speak and you immediately felt dizzy in your body so strong that you almost fell to the ground.
"Yes... Sounds good to me." You drawled your words and frowned at feeling dizzy out of nowhere. You had kept your mind so busy during the day that you had forgotten that you had a treatment to obey.
"Are you okay? You don't look good." Nick approached you slowly examining you with his eyes.
"Yeah... I'm fine, just..." the strength, with the quickness of a snap, ran out of your body, leaving you utterly weak as the monitor tucked into your side began to beep like crazy. You almost fell to the ground if it hadn't been for Nick catching you in his arms in time.
"Where's the glucose?" he asked, this time examining the entire room.
"In my bag." you barely murmured and he rushed to take it. He already knew what to do because of his sister and besides that you had already given him instructions for this type of case.
He sat on the bed with you in his arms and opened the glucose packet and then took it to your mouth.
You ingested a good part of the envelope and moved your mouth away from it to give him to understand that you had enough.
"How long does it take to take effect?" he murmured, settling in better to lie down next to you.
"Twenty minutes." you warned and he nodded feeling his heart beat rapidly against his chest, it was the first time that had happened to you in front of him and he was really scared that something worse could have happened to you.
And as if you could have read his thoughts, you smiled a little, trying to look at him.
"Calm down, I'm fine." you murmured snuggling into his chest and closed your eyes, his hand was lost in your hair to brush it in a disorganized way.
"It's just terrifying." he murmured kissing your head. You looked into his eyes and tilted his chin a little for him to kiss you.
His lips kissed yours with an achingly perfect softness, while his free hand slid down your waist to pull you against him.
"Do you want to sleep?" he murmured once, his lips away from yours but close enough for you to hear his voice.
"Yeah." And once again you closed your eyes, sleeping next to him.
"Good night, gorgeous."
disclaimer ── evermoresversion © 2023.
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