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#that's a scene i wrote? and you made it beautiful?
maoam · 1 day
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do you think kishimoto writing haku and zabuza's relationship as romantic makes him 'problematic'? i've seen people say that they aren't even written romantically because if you think haku and zabuza loved each other like that it would make kishimoto a creep
Haku definitely had romantic feelings for Zabuza.
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I mean this pretty much speaks for itself... He used the word "kirei = beautiful/lovely" in Japanese while blushing on top of it. I could pick up on the vibe of this scene when I was younger already (same with Oro calling Sasuke's face and body beautiful while stroking Anko's face and asking if she's jealous).
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I mean this comment pretty much summarizes my thoughts as well. I immediately went "hmm?" even when I was younger. I noticed their relationship is also something many men pick up on.
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And what's this... we always talk about the importance of angles, and how Kishi himself said he often redrew pictures and made sure the angles of his drawings were such that they would convey the message. I think everyone can see what I'm referring to here. It looks like an indirect kiss.
On top of that, Zabuza was Haku's precious person he died to protect. Zabuza wished they could go to the same place. I don't see any reason to make Haku's feelings romantic other than for it to be mutual. Something that couldn't be because of the way Zabuza was brought up.
It's not like Japanese mangakas/manga fandoms care about this. They don't see anime characters the same as real people. Which is why they also don't think 15 year old anime character is equivalent to 15 year old real person.
I mean look at CLAMP, one of the biggest franchises, they wrote Syoran/Sakura right? Very sweet puppy love romance. But they also wrote two of Sakura's friends have a love interest with a big age gap. Sakura's brother also dated his teacher in the past and they are later shown to be friends after breaking up. Sakura's father was the teacher of Sakura's mother. Not to mention the stuff in CLAMP's other works that could make its own list. And in Yashahime (which was approved by Rumiko Takahashi) Rin is the mother of Sesshoumaru's twins. And do the Japanese fandoms mind any of this? No. Actually, Japanese fans love Sesshoumaru/Rin, and it's about as popular as Inuyasha/Kagome. Even their voice actors approved of the ship. I mean I don't care about Yashahime, but the ship is generally approved and even the Japanese who don't ship it tended to say it makes sense they ended up together.
Kishi is no different than the general Japanese manga audience or mangakas, instead of being some exception. I actually got an ask about the differences between East asian fandom and American (or western? I think different western countries have different views on this) fandom. I will answer it at some point. Even if it's ages old and I don't even know if the asker even follows me anymore lol.
Here is post by another person (where I also got that comment from)
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Stay With the High Lord
"Stay with the High Lord, human, and live to see everything righted."
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Feylin Week 2024, Day 4: Beauty and the Beast
@feylinweek
Don't ask me why, but this is the first thing I thought of when I saw this prompt. Disney's Beauty and the Beast is one of my all-time favorite movies, and when reading A Court of Thorns and Roses, I couldn't help but wonder how much inspiration SJM took from the animated classic.
Really, Lady Midnight, I can hear you say, you didn't think of the romantic ballroom scene, or the transformation scene at the end? You thought of this scene? This one, for the most romantic prompt on the list? Really??? And the answer is, yes. Yes, I did. 😅 But he isn't even in his beast form in this scene in the book--Sh sh shshshs.
Don't ask. Just enjoy. That is all. ❤️
I am the artist. Please do not repost.
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kitawolf12 · 2 years
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I don't know if people consider 10 Things I Hate About You to be like problematic or bad but I just finished it and you know what? If my partner bought me a guitar anytime they screwed up I would absolutely stick around. Do you know how many guitars that could get me? So many. I could have enough guitars for all the picks I have. That's the dream, baby.
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cryptidghostgirl · 3 months
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hiii can i request a silly little scene i have in my head? ok so!
alastor x wife! reader- theyve been together since they were alive, legit partners in crime they both encouraged eachother to kill and when they reunited in hell after around 8 years they were independent once again UNTIL They got in trouble with Lilith and she took reader to be like her slave until Alastor finished helping Charie with her dream (until he helped prove that demons can be redeemed) so they didnt see each other for another 7 years (his absence)
And all throughout the first season hes like “I miss my wife, Husk. I miss her a lot” (while drunk-) like that one sonic dub meme and starts shaping his shadow creature into reader and talking to it and everyone is like “m yep he’s officially lost it.”
BUT then Sir Pentious is redeemed and Lilith sees and shes like “damn :/“ and send reader to the new hotel via portal and reader just. falls on the ground in front of the big entrance and everyone hears it and they rush out and Alastor is quiet, wide eyed and reader goes smth like “i know- i shouldnt have accepted it in your name but-“ blah blah she rambles on about it and Alastor just goes “Youre as beautiful as the day I los you.” LIKE THAT HEARYBREAKING SCENE FROM HOW TO TRAIN YOUR DRAGON 2 ;-; and everyone reacts in their own way
I REALLY NEED THIS BUT I LACK THE ABILITIES TO DO IT HEEELP (love u)
A/N oh bestie,, i got you. I was actually planning on something similar where Alastor was getting drunk at a bar and talking about the love of his life (I'm still gonna write that one too but I really like this prompt!!) You guys really come up with the best requests, please keep sending them in.
Fuel and the Fire (Alastor x Wife!Partner-in-Crime!Reader)
Pairing: Alastor x Reader
Warnings: ANGST also bad words (idk why i wrote the warnings like this). Also Angel Dust is in this one and I love him but he is a warning on his own.
Word Count: 2,392
Master Lists:
Master Lists 
Hazbin Hotel Master List
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Alastor and Y/n, partners in crime, the fuel and the fire. On a first glance, it would be assumed she was his fuel, the coal and dry leaves he fed himself by. Once anyone got to know them -- and god, what trouble a person was in if they got to know them -- they quickly realized it was the other way around.
Hand in hand from day one, from childhood. Running from the cops, washing the blood off one another's faces. In the living world and life after death, nothing could tear them apart. He was the soil she planted herself in, he was her rock and Y/n? Well she was Alastor's everything. He'd do anything at all for her, all she had to do was ask.
For a decade, they terrified the living world. They were the reason to double check the lock on the door before bed, they were the ominous shadow at the corner. When cold death wrapped them in his reckless grasp, they turned their terror on Hell.
The pair made a name for themselves quickly, filling up the airwaves and making waves in the underworld. For generations, they reigned supreme. For generations, they knew no fear. Then one day, they simply disappeared.
When Alastor reappeared on the streets seven years later without his shadow, the town was alight with gossip. No one knew where he had been, where she still was, or why he had returned but Alastor quickly rebuilt his operation, setting up shop at Lucifer's daughter's Hazbin Hotel along with several of the souls he owned.
The hotel's other residents and workers were distrustful of the man, to say the least. He was shifty, wore a constant smile, and rumors circled around him like birds of prey. That was until about three months into his stay, at least.
Angel hadn't meant to eavesdrop. He'd been coming down to the bar for a drink and a rant of his own when he'd heard the familiar, crackling voice of the Hotel's host.
"I just... I miss her so much, Husk."
He sounded sad, utterly dejected. Angel crouched down on the staircase, hiding his slim body behind one of the ornate posts supporting the railing.
"You keep saying that but do nothing to go find her. She disappeared the same time as you, you know." came Husk's gruff reply.
"I know she did."
"You keep saying that, acting like you know something. Admit it: you don't know shit, Alastor."
Alastor's radio waves faltered, squeaking slightly. Angel tensed in terror, wondering if he'd been found out. This was clearly a private conversation, and the Radio Demon was testy at the best of times. Right now he seemed positively furious.
"Don't test me, Husk." Alastor said after a moment, breaking the tense silence, "She... we both got roped into something. I am doing my part, she is doing hers."
Angel straightened himself up, deciding it was high time he entered the room. He still wanted that drink, after all. He let his feet fall heavily on the stairs, alerting the others to his presence. Husk turned toward the sound, meeting Angel's eyes as he entered the bar. Alastor, on the other hand, kept his back to the spider demon.
Taking a seat beside Alastor, Husk immediately poured Angel a drink and slid it across the counter towards him.
"So, tough night, Smiles?" Angel asked, turning to Alastor who downed the rest of his drink in a single gulp.
"I don't know what you're talking about, my good fellow." Alastor hummed in response.
There was a threat in his voice, but Angel could tell the demon's heart wasn't in it. Everything was just, odd.
"Yeah... sure..." Angel scoffed, taking a sip of his own drink.
"Radio man was crying to me about his wife five seconds ago." Husk grumbled and Angel's eyes went wide.
"You have a wife?" he asked, turning back to Alastor, "I mean, I get it. I'm in to the whole 'tall dark and creepy' thing too but, you care about someone? I don’t know if I can see it.”
Alastor's eyes narrowed as he turned on Husk. The cat demon rolled his eyes in a brazen display of disrespect. He knew his master well, knew this was the only thing he had any leverage with the man on. With a deep breath, Alastor placed his hands firmly on the bar top and pulled himself to his feet. Not saying another word, he disappeared into his shadows.
That had been the first odd occurrence. Of course Angel had told Charlie and Charlie had told everyone, had even approached Alastor about it. The Radio Demon brushed it all off with skill and for a while, things were quiet.
About a month later, the second strange thing began happening. Alastor had always had a certain sway over shadows, everyone knew that. However, he very rarely used them, brought them out if it wasn't to hide him or take him where he needed to be. Then, suddenly, one began to follow him.
"Uh, Alastor?" Charlie had timidly approached him the first time she saw this happening.
"Yes, Charlie my dear?" Alastor asked, turning to face her as he tossed his microphone in the air, catching it neatly in the center of the stand.
"Well, we were just wondering if everything was... okay?" she asked, her hands behind her back and a pointed gaze on the shadow.
"If everything..." Alastor trailed off, following the path of Charlie's gaze and realizing what was going on, "No, no my dear. Everything is quite all right, quite alright indeed."
"Well, okay... If you say so." Charlie had relented after a few moments, unsure of what else to do.
Eventually, the members of the Hazbin Hotel grew used to the shadows, they too slipped out of their minds. Overcome with impending doom of the extermination just a month away, Alastor's strange behavior was no longer a priority.
That had been until the third odd occurrence came into being. It was Sir Pentious who had noticed it first, drawing it to the group's attention as Alastor walked through the lobby and past the group doing trust exercises there on his way to some meeting or another with the other overlords.
"Sir Pentious?" Charlie had called, trying to bring him back to earth as he watched the place Alastor had occupied, "Sir Pentious?"
"Pentious!" Vaggie yelled and his head snapped to her, "You're not coming up with some new plan to attack Alastor, are you?"
"No!" he quickly exclaimed, waving his hands frantically in the air, "Not at all just..."
"What?" Vaggie asked through gritted teeth, advancing a step forward, her spear in hand.
"It's just... doesn't that shadow Alastor has had following him well.... doesn't it kind of look like a woman?"
Husk broke out into wild laughter while Angel widened his eyes.
"Oh, he's definitely lost it now." Husk exclaimed as he calmed himself, clutching his stomach, "If I knew Y/n was the secret to breaking him down, I woulda done something about it years ago."
"No you wouldn't have, ya big talker." Angel teased, elbowing the cat demon lightly.
"Y/n?" Sir Pentious asked.
"Alastor's wife. That was her name." Husk replied.
"Did you know her?" Charlie asked.
Alastor had left the hotel, the threat that had held their questions at bay for months was gone and the topic was right. Husk nodded.
"So, what's she like?" Angel asked suggestively, "Is she more of a dom? Does deer boy like to get dicked down by his lady?"
"Gross." Charlie shook her head, her hands to her temples, "I do not want to know that."
"She's a good kid." Husk said after a moment, "She's nice..."
He trailed off.
"But?" Vaggie prompted, sensing there was more that he wanted to say.
Husk sighed.
"If you think Alastor is trouble, she's a fucking house fire set for the insurance money."
"So probably not interested in being a guest." Charlie dejectedly stated.
Husk shrugged.
"You never know. It has been seven years since anyone has seen her. Alastor allegedly knows where she's at but, he hasn't gone after her. Just keeps whining to me about it so, I don't know. Maybe she's changed. I doubt it though. Sweet as a pea, sharp as a knife."
Charlie had never felt such relief as when she learned Alastor had not died in the chaos of the battle. The hotel was destroyed, heaven was pissed, Sir Pentious had died but, at least he was alright. They rebuilt the hotel, Alastor's same shadow of a woman trailing after him wherever he went. After about a week, thanks to all the angelic and demonic powers involved in the construction, the new Hotel was finished.
It was just as they put the finishing touches on the place, hung the portrait of Sir Pentious they'd commissioned above the fire place, that a portal opened in the lobby. Everyone tensed, banding together behind Charlie and Alastor. Angels were coming, they were sure of it.
A crash echoed from the other side, a sharp yell and then something tumbled through the portal. With a flash, the portal disappeared behind the shape of a person huddled on the floor. She coughed violently.
Alastor's eyes went wide. Everyone else was too distracted to notice, but if they'd have been paying attention, they would have seen his shadow disappear.
The girl was filthy, her clothes torn and her hair tangled. She let out another, sharp cough before slowly lifting her head. Alastor took a trembling step forward.
"Y/n?" he asked, his voice soft in disbeleif.
A smile, wide and sharp, split the woman's bruised face in two.
"Hey hun, I'm home."
In a flash, he was at her side, helping her to her feet, checking her for wounds.
"Jesus, Y/n." he sighed, "You're a mess."
"I know."
"Y/n-"
"I know. I shouldn't have done it, you don't need to lecture me. I didn't have a choice. It was you or me, Al. I couldn't... I can't... I had to. You've gotta understand."
"Sweetheart-"
Y/n cut him off again, her speech a single, constant, stressed-out stream.
"It was stupid, I know. I know. I really do but, she gave me the option and I couldn't say no cause then if I said no you'd really be the one in trouble a-"
Alastor raised a hand gently to her cheek and Y/n's words caught in her throat. She looked up at him, meeting his eyes at last.
"You're as beautiful as the day I lost you."
His voice was soft, so quiet the others could barely hear him. Y/n's cheeks flushed a bright pink. Her hands found the lapels of his jacket, holding them lightly.
"I.." she stuttered, her mind racing.
With a sigh and a slight shake of her head, she gave up in the search for words and buried herself in his chest. Alastor wrapped his arms around Y/n, pressing her tightly into his frame.
"God, I missed you." she said, her voice muffled by the fabric.
Alastor pressed a gentle kiss to the top of her head.
"I love you." she continued, "I'm so sorry."
Alastor pulled her off of him, leaning down the slightest bit so they were eye to eye. Y/n, wiped a stray tear away, letting out a slight, sad laugh. Alastor's eyes traversed her face, caressing every crevasse.
"I'm so glad your alright but, I don't understand." he said at last, "How are you back? The deal..."
Y/n nodded and Alastor's eyes went wider still. Leaning on Alastor's shoulder for support, she turned her eyes onto the rest of the group.
"You must be Charlie." she hummed softly, meeting the young demon's gaze.
Taking a deep breath, Charlie stepped forward and nodded.
"Yes, I am. I run the Hazbin Hotel, which is where you are, to help rehabilitate sinners."
"I know." Y/n nodded, her voice quavering slightly, "I've heard so much about you. You... my dear, it worked."
"I- what?" every other question died in Charlie's throat, shock shot through her body like a bullet.
"It worked." Y/n confirmed, "You did it. I had a deal, a deal which Alastor went to your side to get me out of. If you succeeded in redeeming a soul with his aid, I would be free. And here I am."
"Here you are." Alastor repeated, spinning Y/n to face him once again.
She wobbled unsteadily on her feet. Catching sight of this along with the numerous wounds all over her body, Alastor scooped Y/n up into his arms like he did when they had first been married, when they had crossed the first threshold together. Y/n looped her arms around his neck, exhaustion seeping in with the relief as she let her head fall on his chest.
"Vaggie..." Charlie began as she turned to her girlfriend, "you don't think..."
"Pentious?" Vaggie asked and Charlie nodded.
"It's gotta be." Angel confirmed.
"You did good, kid." Husk smiled, patting Charlie on the back.
Y/n raised her head at the sound of a familiar voice, her eyes opening.
"Husker?" she asked with a smile.
The cat demon stepped forward, bowing slightly.
"Husker! I-"
"Enough of that, my love." Alastor cut her off, tapping her nose gently, "You need a shower and some rest. You can meet everyone in the morning."
Y/n crossed her arms, narrowing her eyes as she looked up at her husband.
"Promise?"
"Yes, I promise." he sighed.
"Does that mean you're staying?" Charlie asked tentatively and the couple turned to her.
"Whatever the little lady desires." Alastor stated, looking back down at his wife in a lovestruck daze.
"Yes, Charlie. We're staying." Y/n laughed, "Things need to start changing around here and I don't see anyone else doing a god damn thing to make that happen except for you."
"I.." Charlie was speechless, the kindness this fear inspiring woman was directing towards her, having never met her before. What Husk had said made sense, she smiled, "Thank you. I don't know what you did, but that you both so much."
"Anything for my favorite girl." Alastor kissed Y/n softly.
"Oh, get a room." Angel scoffed, rolling his eyes.
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kingofbodyrolls · 2 months
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Yoongi fic recs 2024 🥳
In honor of Yoongi’s birthday, I want to share my ultimate favorite Yoongi stories, that I’ve read this past year (2023-2024) 💜 I want to thank each and every writer on this list for creating such wonderful stories and art - you are truly amazing ✨ All the fics on this list hold a dear place in my heart 🥹 🥳
❗Most of these fics are smutty as hell or contains dark themes, so minors dni.❗ 
If you read anything on this list and you like it, please leave a comment to the writer or reblog the fic, it might seem like a tiny gesture, but it really means a lot for writers and I can guarantee it will put a smile on their faces💜 Let’s share and give lots of love!
Looking for more to read? Check ‘The Library’ or last years recs 🙂
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[index] → jan | feb (jhs) | mar (💜) | apr | may | jun | jul | aug | sep (jjk)(knj) | oct (pjm) | nov | dec (kth)(ksj) |
Emoji meaning → angst = 🌩️, smut = 🥵, fluff = 🥰, comedy = 😂, yandere = 😈, thriller/dark = 👻, fantasy = 🪄. 
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⭐Illicit Favors @yoongiofmine // myg x f.reader // producer!yoongi, virgin!reader, f2l // 🥰🥵🌩️
📝 When your editor tells you to re-write the chapters of your book because the sex scenes are weak, suggesting you write them from experience, what do you do when you lack any kind of sexual experiences in general? You go to your friend and ask him for help with it.
🗨️ Matchmaker Namjoon!! The premise is funny and leads to slight awkwardness, but it’s so good. I love the reader and Yoongi’s friendship in this. I was left speechless after reading it, I can’t recommend this enough 🙂
⭐Tricks of the Trade @stutterfly // myg x f.reader // body swap!au, soulmates!au, idiots to lovers, frenemies to lovers // 🥰😂🥵
📝 The convenience store across the street from your apartment carries your favorite energy drink. That’s why you frequent it. It’s definitely not because you have a big fat crush on the owner you’ve been flirting with for the better part of a year. Of course your brand of flirting can also be misconstrued as bickering. When a strange man wanders into the store, he thinks you need a little nudge to embrace the strings connecting you. Next thing you know you’re waking up in a body that definitely doesn’t belong to you. You can’t decide if it’s the best or worst thing that’s ever happened to you.
🗨️ This is utterly perfection! It is so funny and hilarious - but it is also insanely smutty! It’s really interesting with body swapping, what they learn about each other, lol. I read this on a day where I was feeling down, and it honestly made my day! 💜Also, now I kinda wanna watch ‘She’s the Man’ 😂
⭐Backtrack @mapofthesea // myg x pjm x reader // producers!yoonmin, assistant!reader, bi!yoongi // 🥵🥰
📝 There’s no telling just how long you’d been stuck in the windowless studio, and you’re just about ready to walk out and forfeit your paycheck for the week, until your bosses strike up an interesting bargain.
🗨️ Holy fuck 🥵 I feel like I need to take a very long shower now 🫣🫣🫣 this is probably one of the dirtiest fics I’ve read. It’s so good 🤤
⭐Workaholic @hobiwonder [10K] // myg x f.reader // “‘strangers” to lovers (I don’t want to spoil!) // 🥵😂🥰
📝 Yoongi needs to relax and Hoseok has many tricks up his sleeve to make him. None of them Yoongi thought included hiring a hooker to pay him a visit one stormy night. 
🗨️ Wow okay, this was so freaking great! Like, what??? Incredible! A masterpiece! I really really loved it 🥺 everything was so fucking good, their chemistry, the tense build up ugh, so fucking good! 💯 ✨
⭐What the Moon Saw + Stolen Tides @violetsiren90 // myg x f.reader // non-idol!au, f2l // 🥵🥰🌩️
📝 In the words of the great Stevie Nicks, "Time makes you bolder, even children get older, and I'm getting older too."
🗨️ This is just so fucking beautiful. Everything. About. It. Period. 😭 It is emotional, it is young love, and it is tender and loving - like, Yoongi is just so sweet. Their timing sucks, but thankfully Violet wrote a beautiful drabble to give the couple a lovely ending! 💜 Truly, please go read it, it is so good I was crying and felt so good after, it’s sweet – OKAY I’M SOFT I know.
⭐Oh, darling! [series; completed] @yoongiofmine // myg x f.reader // university!au, non idol au, professor!yoongi, student!reader // 🥰🌩️🥵
📝 Starting your second semester at one of South Korea’s most prestigious universities should be stressful enough. Between juggling classes, good grades and a social life, your plate was full. Hoping to spice up your academic career, you thought it was a good idea to enroll as an assistant for your literature professor, whom you’ve held a very secret and very forbidden crush on for the past several months. What will happen now that you’re forced to work closely together? And what if your crush isn’t as one sided as you thought? 
🗨️ Holy fucking shit 🥵🫣😳 This is just one of my favorites series, EVER 💜 This is in my top 10, no questions! ✨
⭐Mami @kithtaehyung // myg x f.reader, knj x f.reader, jhs x f.reader // roommates!au, battle rap!au // 🥵
📝 You somehow have a conversation with Yoongi, and you tell your roommate about a date date.
🗨️ So, so good 🥵 really looking forward to more of this series 🥵 🫣
⭐Damn the Charcuterie Board @bratkook // myg x f.reader x pjm // bestfriends!au, threesome // 🥵
📝 This doesn’t have a summary, so here goes mine; reader has has a sling of unfulfilling sexual times, and in the company of her best friends, she thinks about a video she watched recently. Could they give her what she needed?
🗨️ This has been on my reading list for so freaking long! 🥹 And now I finally got to read it, and damn, it is one of the best, filthiest fics out there. So, so good! 💯🥵
⭐Cotton Candy Computer (1) [series; discontinued] @softyoongiionly // myg x f.reader // hacker!au // 🥵🌩️
📝 Min Yoongi is the top hacker in the world. He has put away countless other cyber criminals all whilst evading detection by virtually everyone he has ever crossed paths with, including the government. The diabolical super hacker that came close to tracking him down is now serving a 10 year prison sentence, all thanks to Yoongi’s handiwork. So what happens when the sentence is shortened unexpectedly? What happens when the biggest threat to public safety is roaming the streets again, determined to get revenge on the man who put him away? What happens when the worlds most infamous hacker just so happens to manage your local Mikrokosmic Electronics? A terabyte of trouble.
🗨️ Shit this was incredibly good!!!! Why isn’t it finished? 😭 I don’t usually read unfinished or discontinued series, but the summary really had me and I just had to read it – and now I’m hooked and I want more of this sexy hot hacker Yoongi! 😭 The story was also just so well written and the chemistry between reader and oc was so fucking perfect, and don’t get me started on the smut, like ugh 🥵 Gosh, I’m so sad there aren’t more parts to it (like the author planned four parts). But it’s so so good, and the cliffhanger isn’t horrible (in terms of wanting to read the next chapter). It can definitely be read as a one shot, I just really, really wished there was more, because, fuck, it was perfect! 💯💜✨
⭐Three Tangerines [series; ongoing] @kithtaehyung // myg x f.reader // fuckboy!yoongi, brother’s best friend!au, age gap!au // 🌩️🥵
📝 Throughout high school, you sometimes caught glimpses of your brother’s older friends: some of them were sweet, some of them were smart. but the one closest to him? that guy was a total f*ckboy from day one. after a foray of horrid relationships spanning years - ending with one that broke up with you for an alarming reason - you needed advice on what the hell you were doing wrong… and this wasn’t a conversation for anyone sweet or smart.
🗨️ I will keep screaming about Ryen and 3tan, yes. And if you have not read it yet, please take 3-7 days off from work or school to do so 😂
⭐Sinful Lust [completed series] @oddinary4bts [71.9K]  // myg x f.reader x jjk // slice of life!au, bisexual boyfriend!yoongi // 🥵🌩️🌩️🌩️
📝 in an attempt to spice up your bedroom life with your boyfriend Min Yoongi, you suggest bringing another man into the action. Yoongi seems reluctant at first, but when you mention his friend Jeon Jungkook, he can’t deny his attraction. All that’s left to do is to convince Jungkook into participating...
🗨️ this one is special to me (as is everything Ella writes honestly). This one is very controversial because of the cheating aspect in it, but it feels so real and it’s very well handled! I love it! It’s very angsty too, made me cry multiple times– I was just so invested in it! I’m really trying not to spoil too much (I already have lol). Just, read it okay??? ✨
⭐F*ck Christmas  @sailoryooons [23.4K] // myg x f.reader // f2l // 🥰🥵
📝 Making hating Christmas your entire personality was never the plan. Then again, it seems bad things only ever happen around Christmas - like discovering your fiancé cheating on you, forcing you to move back to your sleepy hometown. But Min Yoongi happens to love Christmas, and if there is one thing your very stubborn childhood crush is going to do, it’s try to reignite your Christmas spirit. Even if he has to force-feed it to you with gingerbread cookies and too-sweet eggnog. 
🗨️ Gosh, I remember reading this sometime last year and it was perfection - it still is! ✨ It’s so so so fucking good. If you haven’t read it, please do so 🥹 it’s also one of the best Christmasy fics 💜
⭐Eargasm + Eargasm II @lavishedinjimin [9.5K + 14K]  // myg x f.reader // phonesex!au, sexhotline!au // 🥵
📝 the idea of having your first ever orgasm by talking to a hot, random stranger through your phone scares the living hell out of you, but maybe it won’t be as bad as you think.
🗨️ holy fuck, FUCK. this is insane 🥵🥵🥵
⭐Less of Them [ongoing series] @casuallyimagining [9.9K]  // myg x f.reader // established relationship, arranged marriage!au, star-crossed lovers // 🥵🌩️🥰🪄
📝 as the daughter of one of the oldest families in the kingdom, when the king decides that it's you he wishes to marry, you're forced to make a decision and fulfill your duty, leaving behind everything you've ever known--and the only man you've ever loved.
🗨️ PLEASE, PLEASE— FUCKING PLEASE. If you have not read this one yet. Please do it now 😭🥺 It made me cry in the best way possible! The world building, the characters, their love for each other shines to fucking bright and then– [spoiler] READ IT yelling with hands frantically moving above my head
⭐Things that Grow @violetsiren90 [0.9k]  // myg x f.reader // established relationship, idol!au // 🥰🌩️
📝 the idea of having your first ever orgasm by talking to a hot, random stranger through your phone scares the living hell out of you, but maybe it won’t be as bad as you think.
🗨️ it is so fucking beautiful, I can’t even begin to articulate… fuck. I know it’s very short, but dammit I love it. Every single freaking word in this is PERFECTION.
⭐Hard Liquor @chateautae [8k]  // myg x f.reader x jjk // business!au, age!au, executive boss!yoongi x employee!reader // 🥵
📝 your dull evening at a bar becomes hopeful when your mysterious, handsome boss min yoongi shows you the ropes on everything alcohol, but shows you much more when he ends up buried deep inside you.
🗨️ it was SO FUCKING INCREDIBLE like I don’t even know where to begin??? The smut??? That has left me in utter need of Holy Water, because DAMN 🥵 The writing, flow of the story was also just 💯✨
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This is my little corner with my own fics— I don’t write that much (I prefer to read), but it would mean a lot to me if you checked out my work or read it. You don’t have to, it’s up to you of course 🥰
⭐Friendcation [110.5k] // myg x f. reader // roadtrip!au/camping!au, f2bfwb2l, mechanic!Yoongi // 🥵🥰😂
📝going camping with your best friends seemed like a brilliant idea when you initially made the plans. But when you harbor secret feelings for one of them, what will become of you being close confined for three months? Trouble, that’s what.
🗨️ you might laugh, but this is very special to me because it’s the first long fic I wrote and I wrote it because I missed my sister and brother-in-law (they were going on a roadtrip across Europe, lol).
⭐Learn to Love Again [19.4k ] // myg x f. reader // hybrid!au (shapeshifter!yoongi), s2l, slice of life!au // 🌩️👻🥵🥰
📝people always leave. They become beautiful stars shining bright in the night sky. When life hands you lemons, you’ve been told to make lemonade, but that is hard when your soul and heart is breaking apart. When you rescue a tiny cat and meet a handsome stranger in the cafe, you finally feel yourself healing – but when they too leave, how are you going to learn to love again?
🗨️ this one is quite sad, but I really adore it. I wrote it when I was very depressed, so it’s very heavy in that department 🥲
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And as a something little extra, here’s a few fics that I haven’t had the time to read yet, but damn I’m buzzing to get to read them:
Those Eyes Chico [ongoing series] @kookslastbutton
Burden @casuallyimagining
Pour some sugar on me @yoonia
Turbulence [AO3] by orphan_account
Only Yesterday [completed series] @borathae
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Happy birthday to our Lotus flowers, YOONGI!!!! 🥳💜✨
689 notes · View notes
ultralightpoe · 3 months
Text
S-L-U-T -Eddie Munson
Authors Note: this draft had been rewritten like 4 times and each time I just felt weird about it. I wrote half of part 2 and gave up so there will probably not be a part 2. I wrote this in August last year.
Word Count: 7908
Warnings: smut. (Awkward smut scenes) cussing.
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(Thanks for the gif @madisondixonhopper )
Enjoy!
It starts with a skimpy top and a huge crush on the resident Metalhead of Hawkins.
You had been made….. graciously, as your mother always said. Like Aphrodite born into flesh, pretty and plush. And you had been raised to be proud of yourself in your skin, that was how you were made and there was no changing that so why bother pretending you weren’t fucking gorgeous?
You loved short skirts and dresses, you loved your chest and all the shiny jewelry. Earring to necklaces and rings, you loves decorating your nails and doing new looks with your hair. Makeup, though never needed, was fun fun to you. You had decided very early on that you liked how you looked and you liked dressing up. The town you had grown up in was always open to it all as well, you never once heard a single bad thing about your looks and often got asked for tips and advice from your classmates.
But then you moved to Hawkins.
You truly hadn’t expected your outfits to cause so much backlash.
As it turns out Hawkins Indiana was very against letting people love their skin, so much so that within a week of starting your new school you had already been branded with something you had never been called before. Slut.
They whisper it as you pass, giggling to one another as you do your best to keep the cool and confident composure because you refuse to let anyone make you feel less than.
The boys leer at your chest, and often drop things in hopes that you will bend to pick it up.
Enter Eddie Munson.
You had been at your locker one day, fixing your makeup in your mirror when another figure emerged beside it, some kid from your biology class named Lucas Elks? He had never said anything to you in the four weeks you’d been at this school, and a wave of excitement passed through you as you realize this might be your chance to make a friend.
He starts easy, joking about the crap lockers which makes you laugh. You ask him about the homework from class and he disregards that by saying “I don’t do homework.”
And just like that he redirects your conversation to your locker, taking his finger and knocking on it, which makes the mirror you had hung in it fall quickly, both your eyes falling to where it lands.
“How clumsy of me”. He smiles and you smile back, waiting for him to grab it before you realize he was waiting on you to grab it. Embarrassment clings to you at this, him watching you pull your dress down a bit to get ready to bend and grab it. His eyes fall to your chest as you begin to move to grab it, but before you can make it far a ringed hand dashes out to snatch the mirror, pulling it up quickly making you stand straight and make eye contact with the kid who saved you.
He, a beautiful brown eyed god, holds out the mirror casually before bowing dramatically with a smirk. “Milady.”
You laugh slightly, grabbing the mirror as he stands straight again. “Thank you.”
“Of course. Have a good day.” He smiles, waltzing off after that leaving you with the Elk kid.
“You know Eddie Munson?” Not yet.
“No. Never met him.” You murmur, eyes glued to where he disappeared.
“He’s a freak.”
An extremely respectful and attractive freak.
-
Most boys at Hawkins were crude and nasty, and they made their intentions known quite quickly.
You were struggling at this school and it was beginning to eat at you.
Until Steve Harrington.
He played the game well. He played all caring and kind in the beginning, never once looking at your chest and never dropping things for his own amusement. He lent you his jacket during cold classes and gave you rides home from school. You ate lunch with him and found yourself with a warm tingly feeling at the fact that you had a friend finally.
It truly helped that whenever you hung out with him the slut comments seemed to die down.
You loved your friendship with him, and not to mention that small crush that had been growing on Eddie Munson? It was full blown now.
You spent your days daydreaming about the Metalhead, how he would open doors for you or pick you up for a date. He would be the type to kiss your knuckles and warm your hands.
This was all imagination of course, daydreams formed from slight moments in passing with him. Like this morning when you were both entering the school at the same time and he held the door open for you as you dashed to escape the cold in your tiny dress.
He laughs when you slip, reaching a hand out to catch you easily and allowing you to enter the warmth of the school, keeping his hand on your elbow as you wipe your heels down from the snow.
“Not that I don’t think the outfit is cute, shouldn’t you at least wear a jacket?” He smiles, letting go of your arm when you are stable, bringing his hands up to blow hot air on them. A blush coats your skin as a burning feeling settles in your lower stomach as you watch him, imagining him doing that to you.
“I-I didn’t have one that matched.” You mumble, feeling silly at the thought.
“Oh.” He nods, like it’s the most normal answer ever. “I get that. It’s a really cute outfit. Why ruin it?”
“I know it seems stupid. Why bother looking good if it’s freezing but I’m going to see a movie with my friend tonight. Pretty in pink? Have you seen it? Well I decided I would dress up-“ you were rambling, a lame rant that you’re sure makes you look stupid.
“Dress up as pretty in pink?” He smiles, and you nod lamely. “It doesn’t seem stupid. Sure it’s cold but if you’re a badass then you’re a bad ass. Can’t help it.”
He shrugs easily, hands moving to slip from his jacket to reveal a Jean jacket under the leather. You blink in shock as he holds the leather jacket out to you, a slight pink ringing his own cheeks.
“For me?”
“Yeah. It kinda goes with the outfit. I mean not a lot but kinda. Just in case.” He offers and you smile widely, reaching to grab the jacket and wear it. It smells like cinnamon and hot chocolate, and that burning feeling in your lower stomach is straight flames at this point.
You wondered if he knew how hot he was.
“Enjoy the movie, yeah?” He smiles, heading down the hall like he didn’t just make you want to jump his bones in the hallway.
-
“So what’s the plan Stevie?” You ask your friend once entering his car, still clad in Eddie’s jacket. “Heading straight to the movies?”
“Well…..the movie was canceled due to the weather.” He mumbles, shrugging. “Bummer.”
“Oh, okay. Are you taking me home then?” You blurt, feeling lame. You had been looking forward to hanging out all day.
“Well, since we already planned on watching a movie how about we just watch one at my place?” He offers, something gleaming in his eyes as he does.
“Okay.” You smile, this being the first time you hung out with someone in this town. “Sounds fun.”
So he takes you to his house, and puts a movie on. It gets dark quick due to winter and you both are sitting close together sharing a blanket for warmth as the movie plays in front of you.
You, still in Eddie’s jacket, are calm and relaxed as you keep inhaling the cinnamon scent of the jacket. That is until Steves hand coats your thigh under the blanket, your entire body going ramrod straight as you flush.
He leaves it there for a second, and you think that maybe it was just to sit there but then he slides it up, slowly until he gets to the dress and slides a hand under the skirt of the dress pulling a sharp gasp from you.
“Is this okay?” He murmurs and you panic for a second. Is it okay?
I mean you didn’t like him like that, but if he liked you like that….. you didn’t want to lose a friend.
And that’s how you ended up laying on your back with Steve Harrington above you, your dress pushes up to your hips and your underwear tossed to the side.
He had slipped a condom from his back pocket, and soon enough he was thrusting into you, breathy pants falling from his lips as he closed his eyes and began to move.
And you feel guilty at the fact that you weren’t enjoying it, so you close your eyes and try your best to get into it, breathing in the scent of Eddie’s jacket as you relax your body and just imagine.
Soon enough it’s not Steve panting above you with short thrusts, it’s Eddie. The cinnamon smell of him easing you and the brown eyes making you melt.
It’s not Steves hand awkwardly pawing at your breast through the dress, it’s Eddie ringed hand. And finally, pleasure follows.
You go from feeling awkward and nervous to melting into it, moaning a bit as that fire feeling in your lower half starts rising, you were close…. Almost there if Eddie could just move a little to the left and -
You are snapped from your reality when Steve moans loudly and finishes into the condom, the high that had been building up falls flat and you can do nothing but blink up at Steve.
“Did….. did you want to finish the movie?” You ask lamely, and he sighs.
“Actually my parents are gonna be home soon. I should take you home.” So he does, you say nothing as you get settled in his car, keeping Eddie’s jacket wrapped tightly around you as Steve drives you home.
Once you are out of the car Steve drives off, and you make the short walk to your door in silence. It isn’t until you are safe in your room that you let the tears fall, feeling weird and lonely.
Without really thinking you grab the phone book and dig around until you find the number you’re looking for.
You curl up on your bed, knees tucked under your chin and the jacket wrapped around you as you listen to the phone ring.
“Munsons place. This is Eddie.” You hear him yawn through the phone and your heart starts beating quickly.
“Hey! Is… is this eddie?” You ask, before slapping your forehead. He just said it was you idiot.
“Yes, this is he.”
“Hey, this is-“
“Pretty in pink. How was the movie?” He interrupts and your stomach flutters.
“We actually didn’t go see it, weather was too bad.” You mumble, the words feeling like a stupid lie on your lips as you realize they were indeed a lie. But Eddie doesn’t say anything, he merely hums through the phone.
“What’d you end up doing?”
“Oh just hanging out.” You lie, that gross feeling crawling across your skin. “I just called about your jacket.”
“Oh yeah! Cool. How about I grab it tomorrow? I can pick you up for school if you want?”
“That’d be great!” You smile, something blooming in your chest. “If it’s not too much trouble.”
“Anything for pretty in pink.”
-
So started your friendship with him.
Every morning he picked you up and every afternoon he took you home unless he had dnd. When word spread about you and Steve you had panicked, Eddie hadn’t batted an eye.
Steve ignored you, so you began thinking that maybe if you ignored it all then it would go away.
No such luck.
The students at Hawkins do not forgive and forget so easily.
Even now, after a long summer and months between the event you found yourself the butt of the joke as you follow Eddie through the school on the first day.
You had spent a majority of your time at his trailer, sleepovers and movie nights a routine. He tried teaching you to drive and you bought him a slushee to make up for the heart attack you gave him at a bad turn.
You had gone to the lake with him in the skimpiest bikini you owned, and he did not once leer at your chest.
You had tried asking him out before, but each time he seemed to shut you down so you settled into the role of best friend, you would take anything you could get from him at this point.
“Slut.” Someone sneers as they pass which makes Eddie smirk.
“Excuse me”. He mumbles, making them stop. “I prefer freak. Keep it simple would you?”
“Whatever freak.” The cheerleader sneers and Eddie smiles watching them walk away before turning to you.
“You didn’t have to do that.” You mumble, pulling him closer by his leather jacket and playing with the worn out zipper on it. He merely gives you an easy smile and shrugs like it was no biggie.
“They called me a slut.” He jokes, pushing his forehead against yours. “You good?”
Right now? With him so close you can smell that fucking cinnamon and mint smell he always had, imagining him moving the last couple inches and planting his lips on yours? No. You were not good.
But you smile and say “yeah” anyways and his own smile widens before he pulls back.
It isn’t until you get to his locker that you work up the nerve to ask him…… again. “Did…. Did you maybe want to go see a movie sometime?”
“We watch movies all the time?” He laughs, not looking at you as he tries to open his locker.
“Well yeah. But maybe like…. At a theater? And you know…..” why were words so hard to process? “We could go together.”
“Oh. Hell yeah.” He smiles and you feel an excited hope spark in your chest. “I’ll ask the boys what movies are playing and we can all ride together.”
And you had been friendzoned by him once more, you try to smile through it, letting him kiss your cheek before heading to class.
-
The boys all really enjoyed the movies, and you would probably have loved it to if you had been able to sit by Eddie. But Gareth and Jeff had taken those seats which left you between Paul and Jordan. Not that there was anything wrong with either of them you just wanted to curl up into Eddie’s side.
Then, as you thought about it a little more, you realized that maybe the boys had thought about that too. Maybe they had talked about it and played intervention, it did seem like Gareth and Jeff lunged for the seats a little too quickly not to mention the fact that you had caught all of them talking about someone but the second you walked up they went quiet immediately.
They are were probably talking about you, oh god they all probably knew you had a huge crush on him and laughed about it when you weren’t there. This was pathetic and -
“Hey.” Someone snaps in front of your face. “We going?”
You blink, processing Gareth standing in front of you with a bored expression, taking a moment to realize all of them are standing in the aisle while you’re still seated.
“Oh…. Um yeah.” You rush, only to jump a bit when the movie continues.
“Holy shit.” Paul mutters and they all stare at the screen for the 2 minute clip that just rolled. When it’s done they all whirl back to you.
“Why didn’t you tell us you were waiting for the credit scene?” Gareth laughs. “I thought you were crazy!”
Ouch.
He walks off to freak out with the rest as Eddie shuffles closer, reaching a hand to help you up that you don’t take. When you avoid eye contact and pull your skirt down he growls out which draws your attention whether you like it or not.
“What?” You huff.
“Why are you looking at me? You mad at me?”
“No?”
“You avoided my hand.”
“I didn’t avoid your-“ you start to lie and he holds out his hand again.
“Then let’s go princess.”
You smile, slapping his hand like a high five and walking past, knowing he’ll get irritated.
“See! You’re mad about somethin’.” He starts after you, making the three steps before grabbing your elbow and sliding his hand down until it’s on your own. “Keep my hand warm.”
“It’s September. Barely even cold.” You smile, gripping his hand anyways as he leads you out of the theater and through the lobby.
The second you both enter the outside world a small curse slips past his lips as you gasp and immediately move closer, the two of you staying huddled together as you walk to his van.
The second you get there he opens the door, glaring at the boy taking your normal spot during group hangouts.
“Move.”
“Eddie! I never get to sit here man-“
“Jordon move.” He sighs, hands wrapping around you from behind in attempt to keep you a little warmer as the kid takes his time climbing to the back. Then Eddie is helping you into the van, hands on your hips to help you step up and make sure your tiny skirt doesn’t slide up.
You get settled in the middle seat right next to the driver seat as he launches in, turning the car on and blasting the heaters.
“You ever think about wearing more clothes?” Paul laughs.
“You ever think about shutting the fuck up?” You snap, panic immediately taking over as your skin heats up. “Oh my god I’m so sorry I-“
But he merely starts cackling as the rest of them do, Eddie laughing loudly as he squeezes your thigh while Paul elbows you a bit before looking out the window.
You’re proud of yourself because you just said something that made them all laugh, and for once you felt like you fit in with the entire group rather than just Eddie.
He squeezes your thigh again as he spins the wheel smoothly, hands flexing as he drives with ease. That heavy hot feeling starts up again, your skin going hot as you imagine what else he could use those hands for.
Imagining him dropping off the others before pulling over and sliding his fingers up your thigh until they got to your skirt, how his lips would feel against your own and-
The daydream is cut off by the loud rock music Paul turns on, the rest of them beginning to rock out as you tried calming yourself down.
-
Next came Josh Kelleck.
He was a grade above you, and he was really sweet. You didn’t know what to say when he asked you out but people were watching and you didn’t want to be the bad guy so you said yes.
And it was fun, you had been dating him for about 3 weeks and though it wasn’t rock your socks romantic you did have fun.
On the third week you have sex on the couch in his basement, you straddling his hips, rocking back and forth as he mewled below you with his hands gripping your hips. And you were actually getting into it.
Here’s the thing, you were a terrible person.
You weren’t getting pleasured by Josh per se. No no no. It was Eddie below you, it was Eddie gripping your hips as you bounced up and down , his hair that you currently tugged on.
At some point you zoned out Josh’s lame whines and imagined Eddie growling the way he had that night at the theater, glaring up at you.
You were struggling to get there though, if Eddie could just start lifting his hips to meet your bounces then you would be better.
“Can you…” you pant, gripping his hair again. “Maybe like thrust up?”
“Seriously?” The voice under you asks, and you blink slowly because hearing him actually talk ruined Eddie’s image. Shit. You were so close.
But it was too late anyways, Josh sighs before trying to thrust up to meet your own hips, only for his face to pinch up uglishly as he finished into the condom.
“Jesus. Sorry.” He didn’t sound sorry at all.
“It’s fine.” You mutter. It wasn’t.
He breaks up with you two days later, Eddie rolls his eyes when you tell him and a part of you feels like you might be annoying him so you smile and pretend like it’s fine.
“You don’t want to hear about my relationship drama.” You laugh. “Forget it.”
“I always want to hear about your dramas.” He mumbles, eyebrows pinching together. “I just don’t like how they treat you.”
Jesus. Why did he make the crush keep growing?
-
Closer to your birthday you try to hang out with the guys but they are all acting weird.
You ask Eddie during school one day if he wanted to go get food and he shrugs and says it’s a boys night. Guilt and embarrassment crawl through you as you realize that meant you were not invited and you smile and shrug like it was no biggie.
Leaning up to kiss his cheek quickly, enjoying the way his hand lands on your hip to keep you stable as you come back down before spinning to show him your outfit. He snatches your lip gloss as a joke when you almost drop it.
“What do you think today?”
“Outrageously cute as always.” He laughs, and you barely even care when two cheerleaders sneer as they pass, how could you when Eddie is looking at you like that?
He says his goodbyes, kissing your forehead before heading off to class and you feel giddy the rest of the day, by the last bell you realize he still had your lip gloss and you wanted to at least say bye before you walked home. So you trailed to the dnd room where you knew they would all be and fixed your hair in preparation to see Eddie.
You stop when you hear them talking about you.
It took you a second to realize it was you, and your hand was already gripping the metal of the handle to turn it when you did finally realize.
“-come on. It doesn’t annoy you that she sleeps around?” Jordon asks. “And that everyone in the school can always see her underwear?”
“You can’t always see her underwear.” Paul defends and you are grateful for him, something warm in your chest. “Just half the time.”
That warmth in your chest shrivels up immediately as they all laugh.
“I kinda like it.” You hear Eddie chuckle out. “She gives the world a show. No cares, confident and happy with herself. How can you not like it?”
At least he was defending you…..sort of.
“You just like that people think you’re banging her.” Jeff laughs and Eddie cackles at that, tears beginning to spring to your eyes.
Was this really happening?
“She complains all the time that she doesn’t like people calling her slut. Yet she never looks at how she dresses, like come on. Get a fucking clue.” Jordon laughs.
“Have you heard her? Girl has no thoughts going between those eyes.” Micah Hughs laughs loudly, the freshman they had just allowed join the group.
You had to get out of here, had to find somewhere else to be and-
In your panic to flee you trip over your own heels, landing awkwardly on the floor and in your panic to stand up you don’t hear Gareth come out of the door to use the bathroom.
It clicks shut, making you whirl to see as he stares at you wide eyes while you let the tears fall freely as you manage to pull yourself up. And it’s made so much worse when you have to tug your dress down your hips to cover your underwear from how you had fallen.
Of fucking course.
“Did you hear-“ he blushes, beginning to gesture to the door behind him before you blink.
“Huh? No. I was c-coming to grab my lipgloss and I fell. Kinda hurt.” You lie, swiping the tears away even though more kept coming.
“You want me to get Eddie? He can drive you home if you're hurt.” Gareth mumbles, looking a bit relieved since you had said you didn’t hear.
“No. I’m just being silly.” You try to laugh, cringing at how airy and vapid it sounds. Micah’s words clinging. “I’m gonna go.”
“Don’t you want to grab your gloss?”
“Oh! I have more at home, no worries.” And to get rid of that suspicion laced on his features you move to walk away.
“I just didn’t want people seeing my walk home in anything but my best.” You giggle, turning and waltzing to the doors like you weren’t truly crushed by what just happened.
-
You play sick the next two days.
You left a voicemail to Eddie’s home while you knew he was still as DND, probably laughing at how slutty and airheaded you were, saying you wouldn’t be at school since you were sick so he didn’t come pick you up.
Spending the first day trying to write it all off, figure out how to move on.
By the second morning you tell your mom to send him away if he knocks, which he does at 6:50 right in the dot. She tells him you’re still sick and you hear him ask if he can see you before he heads off.
“She’s sleeping.” Your mom lies and Eddie thanks her before leaving.
You feel nothing but stupid as you watch his car take off from your window.
She won’t let you call out for a third day so you get dressed and walk to school before Eddie has the chance to pick you up.
You spend the day pulling down your skirt as much as possible feeling dirty at every look you got when normally you wouldn’t have minded.
When Eddie spots you at your locker between classes he gives you a weird look.
“You wanna tell me why you walked today?” He snaps, leaning against the locker next to your own.
“I needed the air.” You lie.
“Okay. Well maybe next time let me know so I don’t show up like some idiot?” His voice is laced with irritation and you think about Micah’s words, something snapping in you.
“I don't need rides anymore.” You snap, watching his face go from irritated to shocked and straight to confused within seconds.
“Wait. Why? What’s going on?”
“I just won’t be-“
“Are you mad at me?” He blurts. “If you are, tell me so we can figure this out. You don’t need to walk everyday, and I was just irritated about this morning. I didn’t mean to be a tool about it.”
“I don’t need rides anymore. It’s fine. Don’t worry about it.” You shrug quickly, slamming your locker and moving to walk away. He rushes to step in front of you.
“Please don’t be mad at me. I’m sorry I gave you attitude about this morning. Okay? Please don’t punish me-“ you can’t hear anymore, a bitter laugh crawling up your throat as you shove past him, feeling tears spring to your eyes when you have to fix your skirt.
-
You opt for jeans the next day, and though they chafe against your skin and you feel weird you are also glad you don’t have to keep pulling them down.
And since you donned sneakers your ankles weren’t screaming at every step.
But you still didn’t feel right….. this didn’t feel like you.
“You eating lunch with us today?” Jeff asks, walking alongside you after math, his eyes continuously falling to your legs.
“No. I have to do makeup work for science.” You lie, not meeting his gaze.
“I’ll tell Eddie then.” He nods, holding his hand out for a high five which you ignore and walk off.
-
Ignoring Eddie after school had been easy since you took the side exit out and cut through the woods to get home.
Immediately hiding in your room to do homework before you hear the familiar sounds of his van pull up and hear it slam shut aggressively.
Rushing down the steps the second he pounds on the door and opening it just a crack to see him panting.
“Glad to know you made it home.” He grunts, pushing past you into the welcome hall of your home. Before you can say anything he shoves something at you.
A small bag, from the store, and when you open it you see flu medicine and tissues with a box of chicken noodle soup.
“Jeff said you still weren’t feeling good so I got you some stuff.” He mumbles, seeming to detense a little when he rolls his shoulders. “I was worried when I didn’t see you after school.”
“Sorry.” For what? Not wanting to be near them?
“What’s with the jeans?”
“Cold.”
“Why does it feel like you’re lying to me?” He blurts.
“I’m not.” You lie again, shrugging. “I have to do homework and stuff. I’ll see you at school okay?”
“I can pick you up.”
“I’m good.”
“Princess, come on.” He snaps and you open the door to let him out, still not meeting his gaze when he storms out.
-
The makeup is the next to go.
You toss and turn all night, feeling embarrassed and miserable, and it’s nearly 4 when you fall asleep. You wake up late for school and jump to throw on a sweater and jeans, booking it out the door as fast as you can and dashing to school.
You miss first period and get a detention slip, people stare in the halls and you just feel miserable.
It’s made worse when Eddie finds you in the science room during lunch.
You had been napping, forehead pressed to the cold table, since you hadn’t slept last night. But that’s ruined when you hear the stool beside yours screech and you jump straight, eyes wide as Eddie tries to smile.
“I didn’t mean to scare you.” He mumbles, reaching his hand out to rub your arm in an attempt to relax you. “Still feeling sick?”
“Yep.” You lie, looking away. He reaches out to feel your forehead for a temp and you let him, enjoying the small amount of contact you can get before you go back to avoiding them.
He sighs at the feel of your forehead, closing his eyes a bit while he looks like he’s debating something. “Fuck it.” He mutters before moving to stand, pushing your legs apart and standing between them as he shoves your face into his chest and wraps his arms around you tightly.
The second he has you in his arms he breathes out a sigh of relief, kissing the top of your head a couple times.
“What are you doing?” You mumble.
“It’s been a minute since I’ve gotten to hug you.” He admits, holding you a little tighter. “How about we go to the diner tonight? I’ll even get you a milkshake-“
“I have detention.”
“Since when do YOU get detention?” He scoffs.
“I was late this morning.”
“You’re sick.”
“Tell that to the teacher.”
“I fucking will. Is it Mr. Rojas?! I’ll go talk to him right fucking now because that could go on your file and-“ he’s ranting as he moves to walk away, until you grab his leather jacket and pull his attention back.
He stares at you, eyes glued to your own while he just takes you in. And then after a moment of silence he whispers “you’re scaring me.”
“Why?”
“You’re not being you.”
“I…..” you try to find something to say, but can find absolutely nothing and just manage to shrug. “I’m tired.”
You expect him to get the hint and leave, but he shrugs back as moves to sit on the stool he started in, pulling out his Dnd book as you lay your head down.
After a moment you feel him start rubbing your back and let sleep claim you.
-
Eddie was miserable.
There was something wrong and he couldn’t figure out how to fix it which was beginning to piss him off more. You were mad at him, he knew that. And suddenly you don’t want to dress up anymore? What the fuck?
Since when have you ever…. God did someone say something to you? Did someone make a move on you? Was he too much? Shit he had to have made you feel uncomfortable somehow.
If that was true he would kill himself. If he harassed you in anyway then he would jump off the cliff-
“Hey.” Gareth greets, looking nervous.
“Hey?” Eddie greets back, eyes snapping to where his friend stands in front of the porch where Eddie is sitting with a cigarette in hand. “Why are you here?”
“I came here about princess.” Gareth sighs, rubbing the back of his neck.
“Why?” Eddie snaps out, feeling protective. If Gareth did something to you-
“She heard us.”
“I’m sorry?”
“That night at DND whike everyone was shittalking her? When I went to use the bathroom I saw her in the hall.”
“I wasn’t shit talking her-“
“No. But the other boys were and I know she heard them. She was crying and-“
“WHY DIDNT YOU SAY SOMETHING THEN?!” Eddie yells, flicking the cigarette away and moving to his van.
“Where you going man?”
“To talk to her.”
-
He doesn’t knock this time, he already knows your parents aren’t home and so he storms in and slams the door shut before he takes the stairs 4 at a time and waltzes into your room quickly.
Flicking on the light switch he sees you snap awake from a nap, reaching a hand out to your exposed ankle and dragging you down the bed.
“Rise and shine princess.” He greets, as you try to register what’s happening.
“Why are you here?” You snap, trying to wake up.
“When we’re you going to tell me you heard?” He snaps back, face getting into yours. “Huh? Just gonna be mad forever and stop talking to us?”
“Yeah! Maybe!” You scoff, eyes staying on the floor beneath him as he tries not to lose his shit. Look at me look at me lookatme.
Finally he loses control, hand flying to your jaw to make you look up. “Look. At. Me.”
“Why?! So you can run and tell your friends-“
“I didn’t say anything bad-“
“YES YOU DID!”
“NO I FUCKING DIDNT!”
“You said ‘she puts on a show, no cares’ and-“
“You do put on a show! I put on a show! This town is so fucking boring they they are begging for drama and we just so happen to provide most of it. What’s the fucking problem with me calling it?”
“Then you laughed when Jeff said-“
“I KNOW WHAT JEFF SAID!”
“YOU LAUGHED!”
“BECAUSE EVERYONE KNOWS IVE BEEN PINING AFTER YOU!” He screams. “I wasn’t fucking laughing at you I was laughing at myself. And I’m really frustrated that you would think I would ever laugh at you for something like that.-“
“Okay so you didn’t say anything. You let others say it.”
“Since when do I have any fucking control over what they say?”
“Oh please. We all know you’re their fucking god. You snap your fingers and they all get on their knees. Yet somehow I’m the slut-“ his hand grabs the back of your neck then, pulling your face into his own aggressively as his lips finally meet yours.
He nearly melts at the touch, body fizzing as his stomach does waves.
You kiss back, thank goodness for it, wrapping your arms around him as his other hand snakes around your waist. After a minute you both pull back, eyes wide as stare at eachother.
You’re the first to move after that, pulling him back in to keep making out, which he happily does. You slide your hands under his leather jacket, sliding them across his chest until your pushing the jacket off.
He has to remove his hands from you to help you get it off, which leaves him cold and he tries to reach for you again only for you to step back and tear your sweater off.
“Wait-“ he blurts, heart stopping as your eyes widen.
“I’m so sorry. That was- oh my god I thought you wanted-“
“I do. I do I do I do. But I only want it if you want it.”
“I’m sorry?” You blink. Shit, we was gonna pummel Steve Harrington and that other fucking kid.
“I only want to have sex if you want to have sex. I don’t want you to do it because you think I want to do it.”
“I….. I want to do it.”
“You hesitated.”
“Eddie-“
“I just want you feeling comfortable and-“ but you are leaning up to kiss him again, a growl slipping past his lips into your own as you moan out quickly.
You reach for his belt buckle and he helps take it off, jumping from his pants as he tears his shirt off and tries to kiss you again before you reach to take your pants off.
“I like when you….” He starts, moving to help with your pants, all but tearing them off.
“You like?”
“I like when you defend yourself. When you snap at me and argue with me. I like that fucking fire.” He smiles. “It always makes me really hard. But I don’t like when you shut down.”
“I haven’t shut down-“
“You have.” He interrupts. “And you fucking scared me. I don’t think you’re a slut or anything else. I’ve always admired you for everything. You hear me?”
“I….” You didn’t know what to say, your heart beating through your chest and your lungs constricting. “I just-“
“I get it. Maybe you need a break from the dresses and I’m all for that. Hell, I’ll take you to get jeans anytime you want. And I love your face, you’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever met, with it without makeup. But baby these past couple days you-“
“I just was embarrassed.” You admit. “I felt disgusting and-“
Before you can finish your sentence he sighs out, looking to be in pain as he crawls over you until his forehead is resting on your chest and he collapses on top of you, keeping you held close. “Imsosorry.”
It’s muffled since his face is pressed into your skin and he wraps around you like a koala bear. “Imsosorry.”
“It’s fine.” You lie.
“It’s not.” He snaps, sitting up a bit. “It’s not fine. I’m so sorry. You were feeling this way because of all that shit and- you were never supposed to get hurt because of me. The rest of the school is bad enough but I wanted you to feel safe around me and-“ he breathes out, tightening his arms around you if that’s even possible.
“It’ll be okay.”
“I’m sorry.” And you don’t know why, but you feel the safest you ever have in his arms, letting him hold you and you both somehow managed to fall asleep.
-
When you woke up you were both still stripped to your underwear, but the comforter had been pulled up and your face was pressed into a pillow with hot puffs blowing on the back of your neck making you giggle as your body shudders.
He wakes up at the movement, the arm wrapped around you pulling you in as he blinks away the grogginess. “What’s wrong?”
“You were breathing down my neck.” You admit, laughing when he does it again on accident before turning so you were facing each other rather than spooning you. He takes to rubbing slow circles on your lower back where his hand sits, first a star and then a heart. His eyes are still closed, on the cusp of waking and dreaming still, his mouth opened partially.
“We didn’t have sex.” You whisper.
“Then why am I so tired?” He mumbles back, making you roll your eyes at his joke.
“I think….. it’s weird that we haven’t done it and yet this feels so much more warm and intimate than the…. Others.”
“You deserved better.” He grunts, eyes cracking open just the slightest bit.
“It wasn’t bad, it was just-“
“Did you cum?” You choke at his questioning, eyes wide as his own open up fully to watch your reaction.
“I’m not telling you that.”
“That’s answer enough.” He chuckles lowly before going a little serious. “Did…. Did you want to cum?”
“I……” your body is hot, and you’re sure he can feel your heart beating through your skin and into his. Finally, you let out your breathy answer. “Yeah.”
“Can I…. Can I make you?”
“If you want.” You shrug, trying to play it cool. But you know the second his eyes glaze over with a heated determination that he wants nothing more.
He doesn’t break eye contact with you, not as his hand slides from your lower back down to your ass and feeling the skin there in slow circles.
Then he moves his hand to your thigh, pushing a bit so you’re laying on your back while he stays on his side, his palm sliding across your skin slowly, warming you up even more.
“You’re gorgeous.” He mutters, eyebrows pinching together as he gazes down at you. With his hair a little wild from the sleeping and his eyes still glazed over you can’t seem to look away. “So freaking beautiful.”
He hadn’t even started yet and you were already a blushing mess beneath him, finally looking away to cover your face as his finger begins tracing around your panties.
“No no no.” He whines, pressing his face into yours as he begins leaving lazy kisses. “I want to see your face. Let me see you.”
“You’re making me nervous.” You growl out as his finger toys with the waistband of the lace fabric.
“Am I? Because I’m stating a fact?” He laughs lightly, nipping at your jaw before you finally move your hands and his smile widens from ear to ear.
“Eddie….” You blush, getting ready to tell him to shove off before his finger finds purchase between your folds, pulling a gasp from you as he laughs.
“Take a deep breath now.” He teases, rubbing softly and moving to keep kissing at your face, bringing his thumb to help his ministrations.
You moan when he presses that magic spot and you hear him gasp from beside you. “You ready?”
“I’m ready.” You nod a little bit too eagerly.
And with that he pushes two fingers into you, biting your earlobe as you moan, before he begins moving them in and out.
“Is this good?”
“Just…. Maybe….” You don’t know how to explain it, and you don’t want to make him feel bad so you shrug. “It’s good.”
“Bullshit.” He laughs. “Show me what you want.”
So you do, his tone making you more confident as your own hand slides down to cover his. “That’s it. Show me how you like it.”
You do, using your hand to guide his own, his two fingers pressing in and out of you as his thumb begins rubbing at your clit making you shudder in pleasure.
“Oh…” you gasp, the heat in your lower gut beginning to tighten. And then he curls his fingers and your back arches, a louder moan falling from your lips as he kisses at your shoulder.
He does it again, speeding up his thumb as your eyes clench, that tight feeling getting worse. Your stomach coiling as your legs shove together in panic.
“Wait-“ you rush, not understanding the feeling.
“Trust it princess.” He growls. “Be my good girl and let go, yeah?”
“Ed’s, no-“ but it’s too late, a cry slips from your lips as your high comes, that feeling finally uncoiling as your body shudders.
“God. You’re fucking Beautiful.” He growls, pushing his face into your neck to kiss you as you breathe in and out and begin relaxing again.
You’re body grows heavy, sleep edging at your vision but you sit up and move for the waistband of his boxers before he stops you, shaking his head. “Not about me tonight. Okay princess? Just let me hold you.”
And so you do, feeling a little weird at the fact that he wasn’t immediately jumping up to leave, closing your eyes as you finally cave into the sleep.
-
The next morning, to your shock, he sits at the end of your bed and watches you get dressed with narrowed eyes.
You start with the crappy jeans you had been wearing, but sigh when you realize they were still caked in mud at the bottom and slipping them off to search through your closet once more.
He watches, not saying anything at first but then he stands up abruptly and shuffles closer to move past you and dig through your closet for you and snatches a cute skirt with the top you always wore with it.
You watch with raised eyebrows when he hands them to you.
“You want a longer skirt?” He offers when you seem to hesitate. “I didn’t see another pair of jeans in there.”
“Maybe… a longer skirt.” He smiles at the answer, a purely happy smile, before he dives back in to search while you move to finish getting ready. He finds a longer, knee length skirt that still matches the top and moves over. Bending down and tapping your calf to tell you to step into the skirt. Using him to help you stay stable and letting him dress you in the skirt. His hands slide against your skin, and he zips it slowly before they slide up your abdomen up to your neck and to your jaw as he smiles. His thumb rubs your skin before you pull back. “Don’t mess up the makeup.”
“I would never.” He grins wolfishly gripping the back of your head and pulling you in for a deep kiss that definitely messes your gloss up.
You growl displeasure but kiss back just as heartily.
-
At lunch you don’t have a chance to hide in the science room, Eddie is waiting at the door and pulls you away with his arms around your shoulders. He pretends to faint, dragging you both into lockers as you laugh loudly.
“You gonna come eat with us?” He asks softly.
“No….. but maybe I’ll see you later?”
“Okay, well I can take you home after school or maybe…. You’d want to- okay how about we go get dinner. Just you and I.” He mumbles, pushing some of your hair behind your ear.
“Sounds great.” You smile. “See you after school then?”
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world baby.” He smiles, kissing you once more before heading into the lunch room.
There was a lot of work to do to make everything right again, and Eddie had to start. Today he would be setting things straight with his friends.
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steventhusiast · 21 days
Text
STWG prompt 20/4/24
prompt: accidentally kidnapping a mafia boss
pairing/character(s): steddie
i somehow wrote 1.8k... enjoy
. . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆
Steve doesn’t think he’s ever been this distracted by a customer before at work. He’s just so… hot. Like, the usual customers he serves are rich and well-dressed, sure. But they’re businessmen well-dressed, and that can’t even begin to describe this particular customer. He’s been calling him Hot Guy in his head for the past thirty minutes.
Hot Guy is in a suit, yes, but that’s not even the best part of this man’s look. The suit’s all black and hugs his waist deliciously, but it’s everything else that has Steve practically drooling where he stands by the bar, waiting for his next round of drinks to be made. Hot Guy looks a little less pristine and perfect than the usual businessmen; his hairs up in a messy ponytail, strands of a fringe framing his face, and he has beautiful silver earrings on and an expensive looking chain around his neck. And every time he moves just so, Steve gets to see a peek of a tattoo on his chest as his half-unbuttoned black shirt moves. Gorgeous…
“All ready for you, Steve.”
He’s snapped out of it by the bartender on shift, and looks at the bar to see, oh yes, all of his drinks are ready. He offers the bartender a smile and a thank you, and gets to balancing them on his serving tray.
See, he can get a little distracted by hot customers, but he can’t be seen as a slacker. He cannot afford to lose this job.
He and Robin finally were able to move to Chicago four months ago, and it took him three months (and a good chunk of his emergency savings) to find a job as a waiter at some restaurant. It’s not even a particularly nice job. Sure, the restaurant is fancy as hell, and the customers tip really fucking well, but the pay leaves much to be desired. Like, a usual customer (rich) tips him more than he gets paid for a whole shift! And he’s not complaining about the tips, per say, but when the restaurant’s clientele can tip that much… surely the restaurant can afford to pay their workers a decent wage!
Just as he manages to balance the drinks on his tray, he notices his newest co-worker, Danny, fiddling with his own collection of drink glasses. Danny looks awfully shifty as he glances over his shoulder at a table and then takes a small sachet out of his pocket, tears a corner and pours it into one of the wine glasses.
Steve’s eyes narrow at the action. What the fuck?
Over the last week of Danny working at the restaurant, he has thought him to be unpleasant at best and suspicious at worst. The one time Steve tried to make conversation with him, just asking where he worked before there, he got a glare and a clipped comment about not getting personal. Now that he thinks about it, Steve doesn’t even know Danny’s last name.
He watches Danny pick up the tray, do a final glance around the restaurant (either not perceiving Steve as a threat or not seeing him stood five feet away), and walks toward the table area.
And he’s not saying Danny would poison a customer. He’s not saying that, because that is insane. But. What’s the alternative? That Danny got a request to put, like, powdered vitamins in someone’s drink? It’s just shifty that’s all!
And, like he said, he can’t afford to lose this job.
That includes if it gets shut down for becoming a murder scene. Or him accidentally abetting a murder by not doing anything!
What does he even do? He’s going to look genuinely insane, whether he's right or wrong.
Danny reaches a table (it’s the table Hot Guy is seated at) with his tray, and plasters on a customer service smile as he starts dishing out the drinks. Steve keeps an eye on the (possibly) tainted wine glass as Danny puts it down in front of- in front of Hot Guy. Shit.
Steve’s heart starts speeding up as he watches Hot Guy pick up the wine glass, inspecting it and giving it a little swirl before starting to lift it, and- fuck it.
Steve bolts over to the table, definitely knocking over another server’s tray as he goes, and has to shove the wine glass out of Hot Guy’s hand to stop whatever’s about to happen.
The liquid splashes onto Hot Guy’s chest (Steve hopes the poison isn’t, like, corrosive), then the glass shatters to the floor, and Steve’s left heaving as he catches his breath. Not from the exercise, but from the adrenaline rush. Because Steve is- oh god, he’s in Hot Guy’s lap.
He scrambles to stand up, cheeks bright red, and chances a glance at Danny. On the surface, Danny looks shocked and apologetic to the rest of the businessmen at the table, but Steve sees his right eye twitch and his ears start to tint red. Okay. So. Even if he looks crazy, maybe he made a good move.
He looks back toward Hot Guy only to find that he’s already being watched with an inquisitive gaze. The man still has his hand held up like he’s holding the wine glass still, and he has one (perfectly manicured) eyebrow raised at Steve. Steve feels his cheeks heat up even more under his attention.
“I am so sorry, sir.” Steve finds himself blurting out, but Hot Guy just shakes his head at him, oddly calm.
“I’ll get you another drink, Mr Munson.” Danny says, giving Steve a pointed glare before walking away.
Hot Guy- No. Mr Munson looks like he’s about to say something, but Steve needs to get him somewhere he can tell him what happened away from other people and before Danny tries it again, so he boldly puts a hand on the man’s shoulder. The possibility of looking crazy be damned.
“Let me help you get cleaned up, sir.”
Mr Munson considers him for a moment more, and then nods. Maybe he sees the frantic, anxious look in Steve’s expression, or maybe he just wants to yell at Steve outside of the view of his assumed co-workers.
"I'll be right back. Don't talk business without me." Mr Munson addressed his table before following him off.
Steve leads him to the customer toilets, and then takes him to the staff hallway just behind them. Mr Munson’s eyebrows raise at that, and at the serious expression on Steve’s face.
“Sir, I’m so sorry for that, but I… This is going to sound insane, but I think my co-worker poisoned your drink.”
He levels Mr Munson with a serious expression as he speaks, trying to negate the craziness of what he’s saying by showing he’s not joking. Through doing so, of course, Steve also gets the chance to get a better look at Mr Munson’s face, which is just… like he said earlier, gorgeous. And that’s not even talking about the deep brown of his eyes.
Mr Munson doesn’t even flinch at Steve’s words, just looks down at the wine on his shirt with a vague look of disgust.
“I see.”
He doesn’t sound surprised. What the fuck? Who is this man?
“You don’t seem shocked.” Steve finds himself saying, and then his eyes widen and he smacks a hand over his mouth, “Ignore me! I don’t want to get involved in any, um. Not crimes. I’m going to stop talking now.”
As he keeps talking, Mr Munson’s face contorts into an amused smile, and his gaze wanders over Steve’s form, then back up to his eyes. When Steve’s done rambling, the man laughs.
“No. I’m not shocked.” Is all Mr Munson says, “But unfortunately, you are involved now, sweetheart.”
Steve feels the colour drain from his face at the words and the serious tone Mr Munson speaks them in, but before he can even squeak (or scream) in response, the Staff Only door slams open, and Steve is greeted with two pistols pointed at him.
Then he squeaks. And puts his hands up in a surrender position, even though the two men glaring at him don’t look like police officers. They’re wearing suits, like they’re customers of the restaurant. And they completely ignore Steve in favour of scanning over Mr Munson.
Holy shit. What the fuck is his life? Robin will never believe him when he gets home. If he gets home.
“Put the guns down, boys.” Mr Munson says from beside Steve, and then (gently) puts his hands on Steve’s arms to push them back down to his sides, “No need for all that, sweetheart.”
“Sorry, Eddie. We thought- you just disappeared, and we heard glass shattering, so-” One of the gunmen says, stumbling through his words slightly.
“We thought you’d been kidnapped. Again.” The other says, looking unimpressed.
Eddie rolls his eyes, and Steve notes how he hasn’t removed his hands from him yet.
“I’ve been told that- sorry, sweetheart, what’s your name?” Eddie starts, maintaining eye contact with Steve only.
Sweetheart. Kill him now. How is his dick still working in these conditions, and why is 'sweetheart' doing it for him? Maybe it's more to do with Eddie himself than the word...
“Steve.” He squeaks out.
“Right. Steve, here, thinks my drink was poisoned by his co-worker. He’s the culprit for the glass, and this,” Eddie gestures to his wet shirt, “and then he took me here to clean me up.”
“What’s the name of this co-worker?” One of the gunmen ask Steve, voice intense, and when Steve just blinks at him he takes a step forward like he’s about to put a hand on him. Steve can’t help his flinch in response.
Which Eddie apparently feels, given the way he tsks at his men and takes a step back, pulling Steve with him.
“No threatening my possible saviour, Jeffy. This isn’t an interrogation.”
“His- His name’s Danny. I don’t know a last name.” Steve says finally, and gulps when Eddie rubs his thumbs back and forth where his hands are still on him.
“Good boy.” Eddie says softly, and Steve can’t help the shudder that runs through him.
Okay. It's confirmed. Apparently being mildly traumatised by guns doesn’t stop him from getting horny. Good to know. Hopefully Eddie doesn't notice how red he's gotten again.
Eddie finally lets go of him to step toward his men.
“You heard the man. Gareth, go get a sample of the wine that spilled on the floor and figure out if Stevie here is right, and Jeff, go tell everyone else who we’re looking for and find Danny.”
The two gunmen leave with their orders, and Eddie turns back to Steve. He’s looking at Steve with that intense gaze once again, eyes dragging down to his beat-up Reeboks and back up to his dishevelled face.
“Now, how can I reward you for probably saving my life, sweetheart?”
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anantaru · 3 months
Text
cw. ꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱₊˚⊹ quick diluc freestyle that suddenly came to my mind, i was watching barbie in the twelve dancing princesses as i wrote this, <3 fem! reader
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diluc had a love for foreplay that stems from equal amounts of both concern and sweet desire— of course, he loves tasting you, how each flick of his tongue was resounding louder and louder in his ears as you begin to notice the small stretch of his fingers seeking entrance as well.
to him, it was honestly normal to take ones time when making love, and it excites and makes you a little embarrassed whenever he mentions it so bluntly— that there was nothing in this world that could even scratch on how much he loved spending hours on what made you feel good, on what would make your toes curl and fervently squish his head in between your thighs.
you might be wondering what the concern was diluc would cleave to, for that, it was simply that he wanted to make sure you're properly prepared before he slides his cock into you. it's above average, and diluc was aware of that— in fact, he chuckles whenever you'd wiggle your hips into his bulge and called him too big for you.
he also found pleasure in watching you melt under his tender, yet so deliriously intense ministrations as he penetrates you— wanting your thighs to shake around his hips so he could hold on to them, caress them, his tousled bangs sticking on his forehead whenever he kisses from your knee to your upper thigh, never breaking eye contact.
diluc takes you in his arms afterwards, runs his slender fingers down to pull you into his hips before moving forward— ugh, your precious face makes him smile again, you're utterly intoxicating whenever you bite down on your cheeks all nervous but needy, looking at him so sweetly and barely awaiting him to pleasure you.
nevertheless, then comes later and your eyes roll into the back of your skull as diluc grinds the hefty weight of his erection against your plump folds— immediately you get that feeling again, an inkling, one that tells you that he doing this on purpose.
"oh, darling," how he taunts you, "you feel good already?" how he leaves you on edge and completely overwhelmes you before limiting the tempo on his hips again.
but the sounds you'd make were just so beautiful, so cute, so sweet and to die for.
you're a lot more reactive when he gifts you all the attention in this world— making the entire scene a lot more passionate when he gives your thighs little squeezes each time he thrusts into you.
it's all about taking time to diluc ragnvindr, time and a sharp pair of eyes, bringing forth the most out of you was all he had in mind— it practically set his entire body on fire watching you enjoy yourself, it sends the veins in his blood surging all the way to his cock.
until he finds you've had enough of this, then master diluc will spear you open in no time, fill you up in a way that was beyond someone's imagination with fast, deep thrusts of his raw, throbbing cock seeking the precious warmth of your walls.
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©2024 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify, claim as your own
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jeonghantis · 11 months
Text
✧ — HEAVEN ANGEL (y.jh)
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PAIRING ⇝ yoon jeonghan x reader.
SUMMARY ⇝
beautiful, everyone had called you. the compliment lost its charm on you, knowing fully well it’s paid only for the surface-level appearance you kept up and nothing else you had to offer. irritating, he had called you. you let him fuck you.
TAGS ⇝ uni!au, fratboy!jeonghan, fwb, smut, a dash of angst (oopsy!).
WARNINGS ⇝ language, fem!reader (she/her), houseparty scene (not exactly detailed), gossip, explicit sexual content (MINORS DNI!), bathroom (mirror) sex, unrequited crush (or is it?), reader has commitment issues, reader is kinda mean, mentions of p*ss and sh*t but not in a sexual manner, just for jokes.
WORD COUNT ⇝ 4.1k words.
note: funnily enough, i had two requests specifically for house party sex with yoon jeonghan. i lost the ask for them both (accidentally deleted while my laptop glitched). i am insane. and before anyone asks, yes there'll be a part two/prequel :) and also this is somewhat connected to my upcoming cheol fic. so i hope you stay tuned! proofread by the star of my life @cheolhub. sar fr put up with every version and my constant anxiety over every paragraph. i couldn't have done it without them. i love u so much. @szakias was also helpful in keeping me sane as i wrote this out 🙇 i love u so bad. loosely based on the song heaven angel by the driver era. don't think it'd go with the fic but you know :)
reblogs & comments are very much appreciated.
explicit tags under the cut.
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EXPLICIT TAGS ⇝ semi-public setting (bathroom sex while there's a party), unprotected sex, dom/sub dynamics, mean dom!jeonghan, sub!reader, dumbification, teasing, petnames (angel), degradation (whore, bitch), dacryphilia, marking, briefest thigh-fucking, clit stimulation, cumming inside, squirting, light overstimulation, (a little) aftercare.
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A strange rumor went around the campus. A rumor of a person whose beauty was so out of this world that it was terrifying. 
Unreal. Everyone had said. You won’t be able to look her in the eyes! 
But beyond that angelic beauty was a personality so sour, no one dared thought to approach her. Those that tried their luck had it beaten right out of them and they came to hate her to hide their broken hearts.
What a bitch, they had said. Does she think she’s all that?
Yoon Jeonghan, for one, thought they were being overly dramatic. It was a strange and interesting phenomenon how gossip can evolve to add in such theatrics. It was like living in one of those regency novels his sister owned which he had perused over on one particularly boring day. Had these people really had nothing better to do with their lives? Were they trying to live in a novel of their own? Jeonghan never understood them, neither cared for these kinds of things. He’d much rather form his opinions. He had better things to do than to dabble in such frivolity. 
What a stuck-up, one would say. What better things could Jeonghan be doing that puts him above everyone else? 
Oh, fucking the subject of the rumors of course. 
“How irritating,” Jeonghan sighed, abruptly ceasing his thrusts inside you to harshly yank you back by your hair. 
You yelp, a deer in the headlights, when your neck is forcibly craned back, made to look up at his looming figure. You looked pathetic from where you were pinned against the wall, exposed breasts pressed flush against the cool tiles and your mini skirt flipped upwards to reveal the swell of your bare ass flattened against his hip bone.
“I said to keep your voice down,” he tuts. “Do you want the whole house to hear you?” 
“I’m s-sorry,” you stammer out, throat raw and chest heaving. 
“Are you?” He mused with a raised brow, mocking and unbelieving. 
You couldn’t meet his gaze, or at least you tried to. Jeonghan liked to make eye contact, he once told you, for he loved to see your sanity visibly ebb away from your eyes, leaving you a mindless, glassy-eyed whore. You had not reached that stage, not yet, not when some semblance of your being remained clear in your gaze, dilated pupils fearfully wavering back and forth between his simpering face and the bathroom door where a rather large, booming frat party laid beyond.
He cocked his head to the side and tightened his grip on your hair, forcing your eyes back on him. He leaned forward until he’s breathing your air, and all you could do is stare up at him pitifully with quivering lips. “Or…” he starts, his lips twisting cruelly. “Do you want them to hear you? Want them hear how good you’re being fucked right now?”
You remain silent, the lump on your throat bobbing as you swallow hard. But your walls tighten around him and Jeonghan couldn’t help the curve of his lips.
“You’re really weird, you know that?” Jeonghan sighed, releasing his hold on you. A lithe finger curls a lock behind your ear, the gesture jarringly affectionate from his prior cruelty, before his mouth moves to hover over it, his warm breath tickling. “You moan loudly when I tell you to shut up. You shut up when I ask you questions. Have I fucked you stupid already? Or have you always been stupid?”
You let out a shaky breath. “I’m sorry.”
“Is that all you know what to say?” Jeonghan laughs. “A renowned bitch, known to reject her admirers without so much of a second thought, now reduced into this pathetic bitch in heat. What would everyone else think, hm?”
His derogatory spats clamored down to your bones, making you shake with emotions that you couldn’t quite place with your hazed mind. At one point, with the last bit of pride you had left, you’re irritated, and it’s shown in the twitch of your eye and narrowed gaze. Then there’s embarrassment, shown by how your face warms and flushes. There was no denying how fucking dazed and desperate you had been, that much was true, and the demeaning tone of his voice did its job of filling you with shame. The twisted part of it all is that you enjoyed every minute of this ridicule thanks to pure, carnal desire. You couldn’t care less about what other people would say about you, what matters now is when the fuck would Jeonghan move his dick inside you. 
But Jeonghan being Jeonghan, he wanted his answers. His last question was rhetoric. You knew. He knew. And yet he looks down at you with cruel expectancy masked in the sweetest, angelic smile that has fooled so many, and had once fooled you. 
“I-I don’t care,” you say, deciding to be honest. “Who the fuck cares what they think?”
“Oh, but I’d like to know,” Jeonghan said. He hums for a moment, looking you over in consideration, before speaking again. “But you’re right. They don’t matter right now, do they?” 
You release a breath you hadn’t known you were holding.
And Jeonghan watched, amused. He wasn’t done speaking. “But I’d at least like to know what you think.”
You blinked. “What?”
Before you could question him some more, Jeonghan pulls out of you, leaving your weeping cunt fluttering around nothing. You cry out, high and broken, from having pleasure ripped away with such cruelty. Jeonghan ignores it and his own throbbing problem as he goes to peel you off the wall with a rough tug on your arm. He has you by over the sink, has you staring at yourself through the vanity mirror. Jeonghan casts a smile at you through the reflection, his gaze weighted as he drinks in the sight of you as well.
Jeonghan had to admit, the rumors weren’t all baseless. You were stunningly beautiful, there was no denying that when anyone with functioning eyes could see it. The way you carried yourself tells him you’re well aware of it too. You held confidence with a raised chin, an allure with your own posture and stance even in this vulnerable position you were forced in, looking as disheveled as you are with tufts of your hair sticking out in every direction, framing your flushed face. Your blouse had been carefully unbuttoned despite how desperately urgent you both had been for each other the moment the bathroom door shut closed, but the rush was evident in how your bralette had been roughly tugged down enough for your perked breasts to spill over. Jeonghan had been anything but kind to your skin, having left angry red splotches blossoming all over your chest; you weren’t either on his, knowing if Jeonghan had craned his neck enough from behind you, they’d find similar markings on his throat, though considerably less in quantity.
Jeonghan also looked considerably less damning. He had not made moves to remove any of his upper clothing and so he remained presentable with his black varsity over a loose white shirt. Even his long hair had not looked loosened from where it’s tied up. But below, away from the mirror’s sight, his dark jeans had been unbuttoned and unzipped for his curved dick to spring out freely, for it now to rub over your ass teasingly.
“So?” Jeonghan asks. “What do you think of yourself?”
You glare at him through the mirror. “Fucking awful.”
“Of course you’d see it that way,” he laughs, resting his chin on your shoulder. “For me, I think this is the most beautiful you’ve ever been.”
It’s your turn to look unbelieving, but your pulse rouses. 
Jeonghan grinned. “Ask me why.”
You reluctantly indulge him, “Why?”
“Because you finally look fucking awful,” Jeonghan said cheerfully. You turn to glower at him but stop when he lifts a hand to trace a line over your chest, mapping out the marks adorning you with a nimble finger. “And because I’m the reason for it.”
“A little vain, don’t you think?” You remark, albeit breathily, your face heated.
“I can be proud of my work,” he quipped, pressing his smile against your skin. He looks you over once more, taking in every detail down to the last freckle, and something deep in him thrums sweetly. “And I had a beautiful canvas to begin with.”
“How charming,” you sighed, derisive, as you threw your head back against his shoulder so you could look at him with batting lashes. “Can you fuck me now?”
“But I mean it,” Jeonghan murmured and relented, reaching around you so he could press a roughened finger over your swollen clit.
 “Mean what?” You ask, but you’re barely listening, not when your focus is narrowed to the deft circles he’s making on your sweet nerves.
Jeonghan guides his length between your thighs, letting it glide languidly right under your weeping and throbbing cunt at a lazy pace. His lips are still curled, his eyes bright when he gazes down at you before he’s responding, “You’re absolutely beautiful.”
Sincerity was not something you’re used to when it came to the ever sarcastic Yoon Jeonghan, and yet here it was, bleeding into his tone in its purest form. Never in the entire three months of sleeping with him had he ever complimented the way he had just now, and if he had uttered any, it was quickly followed with ridicule or said with ridicule.
Good, he called you when you were obedient.
Cute, he called you when you were crying.
Beautiful. It was new. From him at least. 
It was a temporary moment of clarity in your lust-addled head as you blink at him, making sense of what he had said, making sense of the warmth that starts to bloom throughout your chest. And temporary it remained as Jeonghan led his cockhead right back to your entrance, pushing himself in without so much of a warning, and the bare grasp you had on lucidity loosened.
You gasp out loudly, doubling over the bathroom counter as your walls tense and quiver painfully from the sudden breach, but still yield around him nonetheless. Jeonghan was quick to catch you, to force you right back up with his long fingers encircling your throat. 
“Again?” Jeonghan barked out a laugh but it’s hoarse. “You really want everyone to hear you.”
“I c-can’t help it,” you whined, your head resting weakly against his shoulder, warm breath puffing over his marred skin. 
Jeonghan looked unimpressed. “Well, help it.”
“Oh, fuck!” you cry out when he starts driving into you with no sense of leniency, your body thrown fully forward and voice shaking from the repeated impact that clatters your bones.
“You’re horrible at this,” he cackled. He grips at your hips this time, pulling you hard against him, balls slapping heavily against your ass. He's practically pulling and pushing your cunt onto his cock as if you weighed nothing, as if you were nothing but a cocksleeve for him to enjoy. Each decadent slide of his length in your heat draws out breathy grunts from him, his head drunk with pleasure.
You weren’t faring any better. Your head is thrown back to reveal flushed skin stained with tears that drip from closed eyes as you try desperately to hold yourself up with palms flat against the cold marble counter. There was nothing else for you to do but feel it, feel his cock stretch your pussy, its silken insides practically making way for him with each piston that has you crying out more in volume and pitch.
“Open your eyes.” His hot, staggered breath wafted over your ear. His thrusts ease its pace, slowing into something more languorous and teasing. “Open your eyes and look at me.”
You whine but your eyelids flutter open. Glassy, unfocused eyes find Jeonghan.
A devious smile splinters across his face. 
There you are.
“Please,” you whimper, your hand reaching to paw at his nape. 
“What is it, angel?” His tone is sweet but it rolls off his tongue sharply. “I n-need - ”
Jeonghan laughed cruelly. “I don’t think you’re in the position to demand something from me when you can’t even listen to my one demand.”
You grab at the ends of his hair and rock your hips back into him, fucking your cunt right on his dick in a faster, but struggling, rhythm. 
“Hannie,” you mewl. “You feel too good. Please, please, just fuck me. I can’t help it, I just - Please? I’ll b-be good. Just please fuck me, Hannie.”
Jeonghan doesn’t respond right away to your pleas, allowing himself to revel in the broken desperation you display with an amused smile and delighted throbs made inside your velvety walls. Perhaps Jeonghan should be used to this sight now. He’s seen you in much messier and miserable states, ruined you far worse than he had now. And yet he’s plenty invigorated than he’s ever been, pure excitement searing his veins.
What would everyone else think, hm?
Jeonghan thought it was rhetoric. Jeonghan said it didn’t matter. 
It wasn’t. It did. 
“I don’t think you can be good,” he began as a hand inches forward between your legs, “But if you’re going to be loud, then at least use my name. That way, everyone will know who’s fucking you so good.”
“H-Hannie!” You mewl, oh so pitchy, as your frame jerks from the brush of the roughened pads of his fingers on your clit, pleasure flickering up your abdomen so wildly that you could not easily bear through it. 
“There we go,” he crooned, pride gleaming in his eyes. Jeonghan was much too familiar with your body by now, so it’s easy when his hips brings back its pace, fucking at your insides at an angle so the length of him glides over your sweet nerves with each impact. 
“Yes, yes, yes,” you sob out like a mantra, spreading your legs a little wider to accommodate his brutality, your channel tightening around his throbbing girth. “Ngh, Jeonghan, right there! Oh my god - !”
The nectar that leaks out of you coated his shaft with an amazingly significant amount that makes the slides so much easier and louder, the wet noises bouncing off the four walls and meshing with your own cries of his name like he wanted. It was almost enough to drown out the muffled music of the party that seemed many worlds away now.
Jeonghan soon enough joined in this sinful chorus, letting out panted moans of his own. Some were incoherent but when it wasn’t, it was mostly your name, just in case everyone couldn’t tell who was screaming his name like a wailing prayer. How he’s managed to keep himself restrained and sane for this long was a strong feat in itself. Your everything put him in a trance, every touch of you—nails, fingers, and obviously your tight cunt, was a little too much, it was dizzying. 
Even at your seemingly waning state, your hips somehow finds itself moving back against him, undulating with the same force and rhythm. You’re driven by the tightness both in your chest and in your abdomen, white flashing across your vision the more you keep up your pace, your moan becoming more muddled as your thoughts were. And when balance fails you, having you bow back down and lean all your weight on your forearm, Jeonghan inclines with you, his chest pressed right against your back and you could feel his raging heartbeat that very well matched your own.
“How are you holding up, angel?” He chuckled and pressed his face against your neck, his breathing hard and warm on your skin, as his thrusts become more shallow. “Doing okay?”
“I-I’m close,” you whimper. “Please, Hannie - ”
“I’ve got you,” he whispered back as nails dig crescents on your waist, muscles flexing as the intensity of his strokes inside you extends once again and remains at the same tempo. He doesn’t know what came over him the next moment, his senses just completely overtaken and all he could do was be at awe at all this perfect bliss you’re bringing him, and only him. “You’re mine tonight,” he breathed. “I’m going to fucking ruin you for everyone, angel, you understand that? You’re mine.”
There it was again. The clarity. The warmth. It all happened in a single moment.
You turn your head and stare up at him. Jeonghan stared right back at you. A completely indecipherable expression confronts another.  
Where it had been temporary then, it intensified now. Where there had been questions, suspicions took its place. 
Then came fear.
Jeonghan catches a glimpse of it in your eyes and for the very first time, his stomach sank at the sight of it. 
But his facade is flawless. It comes too naturally before he’s fully aware—a sweet curl of lip, the faintest crinkle at the corners of his eyes. He’s fooled too many. He could fool you again. 
Jeonghan takes advantage of your moment of daze to toy once again with your clit, and is relieved at how immediate your body reacts. 
“Ngh, J-Jeonghan!” You keen high as you reach a hand to cup over to where his fingers flicks and pinches at the delicate bud, pressing down on him for added pressure to alleviate your own self. Oh, how embarrassingly easy it was for your thoughts to be completely overwritten by your own lustful desires, but as you have learned, it always prevails, doesn’t it? 
Your thighs seize up from the overwhelming pleasure crawling up your spine; while your rhythm falters from it, Jeonghan’s is relentless even when his own breathing turned ragged and his body strained from the effort. It all becomes so much so fast; the feverish heat spreads under your skin, tightening up coils in your abdomen, but your frame is trembling, as if a chill settled so deeply into your bones. 
“Hannie, Hannie, I’m going to -”
“I know,” Jeonghan grunts as his face falls in the juncture of your neck, lips pressed right over your pulse point. He can feel your walls start to restrict around his twitching girth, and it did little to aid his own self-control. “Let go for me, angel. C’mon. Let me hear you. Let them hear you.”
And you do. With the most shrilling wail, you come, your warm release spilling onto his cock and, much to your surprise, squirting onto themselves, their clothes, and his hand. 
“Holy shit,” Jeonghan marveled under his breath. If he could burn a memory into his brain, this would be fucking it. Just you shivering and quivering around his dick. Your back prettily arched back with tits hardened and perked. The fluids spurting all over yourself and him so shamelessly and so intensely until you're convulsing back down on your front from it all. 
Watching this whole brilliance of you, just reminded Jeonghan of how lucky he truly was to have you like this, to be able to make you this fucked out with crossed eyes, pupils blown wide out of proportion. Hidden concerns were washed away by this single glance, replaced with nothing but gratitude, pride, and true bliss. And with all that and a poorly thrown out warning, he’s thrown over the edge. A moan is punched out of his gut as he’s releasing inside you with one last valiant thrust, his cum white and hot as it spurts and paints your walls.
And poor you having to tolerate this continued abuse of your insides that pushes you close into the sphere of overstimulation. You’re spent, fatigue already ebbing into your consciousness, but you stay still for him, letting him use you for all your worth until the last few twitches of cock, until the last few spews of his cum is fucked back into you.
For the next few moments, only a dulled bass fills the air as two heaving bodies try to steady themselves. When the remnants of carnality wane, Jeonghan finally pulls out of you, your channel left with nothing but their shared release dripping out of you, beading down your legs. There’s a crack of a smile thrown your way through the reflection just as you feel a light tap made over your cunt. You resist the urge to roll your eyes at the gesture. And to rock back into it.
“If I clean you up,” Jeonghan began, eyeing the puddle on the floor, “could you help me with the rest of your mess?”
Now you did roll your eyes. “Ever the gentleman.”
“Hey, I just thought I should ask. It’s a lot.” 
Your face warmed up. “Forget it, I’ll clean myself up. You clean the floor.” You move to lift yourself up from the counter, but catch yourself as your muscles start to strain, limbs shaking. 
Jeonghan raised a brow.
You winced. “Can you help me over to the toilet?”
 “Need to piss it all out again?” He jests and takes a hold of your arm to gently pick you up. 
You sneered. “That wasn’t piss, asshat.”
Jeonghan laughed. “I know it wasn’t. But it was hot as hell.”
“Shut the hell up.”
That only made him laugh again.
Then came a knock, a very aggressive one.
“Yoon Jeonghan, are you done fucking in there?” Said a male voice beyond the door, sounding just as irritated as his knock was. 
“Ah, damn,” Jeonghan muttered quietly to himself, then raised his voice at the door, “There are other bathrooms, Cheol!”
Choi Seungcheol, you now recognized Jeonghan’s fellow frat brother, responded right away. “All occupied! Can you hurry your shit up?”
“No!” said Jeonghan, but he’s quick to guide you over next to the toilet with an arm now encircling your waist; you tell yourself this was just a helpful gesture, but there’s no helping how your skin heats up under his touch. From where you stand leaning against the wall, you watch him rush around the bathroom, first cleaning himself up and shoving his dick back in his jeans before he throws a clean towel down on the floor to soak up your mess.
“I’ll leave first,” Jeonghan explained as he sauntered back to you with soap and another fresh towel in hand, setting them down where it’s within your reach. “I’ll appease Cheol first and buy you some time to clean up.”
“Is he always so impatient?” You asked.
“Always,” he sighed, “but once I explain, he’ll understand. I don’t know why he’s fussier than usual though.” 
“Maybe he needs to shit.”
“Shitting at a party? That’s disgusting of him.”
“He has no respect for the partygoers out there.”
You exchange grins with each other. 
Then another round of knocking came around.
“In a minute!” Jeonghan called back, trying to sound calm but his face was scowling. He lowers his voice when he speaks to you again, “Are you sure you don’t want any help? Now I just want to make him wait.”
“Go,” you tell him and wave him off. “He sounds like he’s about to kick the door open. I’d rather not have that.”
Jeonghan huffed a laugh at that. “I wouldn’t put it past him.”
Jeonghan turned to leave. Your heart lurched from your chest.
“Jeonghan?” You call out before you could stop yourself.
He looked back. “Hm?”
“Do we…” You didn’t know what to say, how to phrase it. “Should we talk about it?”
It was miniscule, but you caught his wince. “Talk about what?”
“About what you said?”
“Angel, I said a lot of things.”
“Don’t play stupid with me. You said - ”
Another loud knock, quickly followed by Seungcheol yelling. “Jeonghan! Hurry up!”
Jeonghan let out another sigh, a mix of annoyance with a tinge of relief. “We’ll have to talk about it another time.”
You narrowed your eyes. “Jeonghan - ”
“We will talk about it,” he said firmly, his tone spoke of sincerity, but his face said otherwise. “Just not now. Not yet.” 
You gave him a skeptical look. 
He tried for a smile, perfectly saccharine. You saw right through it.
“Fine,” you relented.
Jeonghan gave you a grateful nod of his head and made a move to leave again. You watch again with the strangest restriction in your chest.
“Cheol, you have got to learn patience,” Jeonghan said once he cracked the door open.
“And you have got to learn to be quiet,” the disembodied voice of Seungcheol parried back. “I’m sure the people passing the hallway could hear you both.”
“Well, we were trying to get the whole house to hear us.” Jeonghan spared a quick glance your way and grinned. You wanted to punch his teeth in.
Seungcheol groaned. “Of course you fucking were.”
Jeonghan laughed and finally stepped out of the bathroom. “At least I’m getting my dick wet. You haven’t been with anyone since - Oh, I spoke too soon. Cheol, you sneaky son of a - ”
The door shut closed behind him, leaving you all alone, and you buried your face in your hands.
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© jeonghantis. all rights reserved. do not re-publish, translate, plagiarise, edit any of my work on any other platform.
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wildesqdreams · 24 days
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she's all that [slytherin version]
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pairing - theodore nott x fem!reader.
summary - a relationship that started off as a surprise can't mean something good. especially when you're involved with a slytherin.
warnings - angst, grammar and vocabulary mistakes.
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a/n: I AM NOT A HARRY POTTER FAN, but i do like theodore nott, so if i got smth wrong, don't come at me. i wrote this very fast, so it may be rushed :) this idea has been stuck in my mind for days, so i hope you enjoy. i will be not writing part2 and this will be my only fic about the harry potter universe!
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theodore's fingers gently brushed up and down y/n's thigh while she was observing the scene in front of her.
teenagers from all the houses dancing. sweat and alcohol filling the air, the beat of the music pounding in the girl's ears. this was unusual for her, for both of them, to attend a crowded party. the couple would rather spend time alone, but they had promised their friends, well, mattheo and draco, since they were so eager to come.
y/n sighed and layed her head on her boyfriend's neck as the girl's fingers played with the hair at the back of his neck.
"you okay?" he whispered.
"mhm."
his lips pressed a kiss on her forehead, which made the smile on y/n's face grow even more.
she continued to lay in silence while theo chatted with mattheo and blaise, who were satted at the same table.
"i think y/n needs to play some beer pong or else she'll fall asleep," mattheo spoke.
"are you so desprete to lose?" the girl gave him a small smile.
"don't be so sure of yourself, y/n/n," the boy grinned.
she opened her mouth to speak, but a voice interrupted, "heyyy guyyyss," a drunk draco appeared in front of the table.
blaise scrunched his nose, "fucking hell, how much did you drink?"
but the question was left hanging as draco pulled out some money from his pocket, "beforew i fodget, hers the money you wonn."
theodore tensed, and his hand stopped on his girlfriend's thigh as he looked at the money. y/n furrowed her eyebrows, "you won a game or something?"
"it's nothing serious."
"c'mon bro," draco smiled, "give yourself some credut, yao got the girl on thhe hook!"
mattheo grumbled, "draco."
the girl turned her head to her boyfriend, "what's he talking about?"
theodore just gave her a small, tight smile, "he's just drunk," he kissed her cheek while slightly squeezing her thigh, "let's just go, you need some rest."
"theo, man, just ttake the money," the blonde boy put it on the table in front of him, "you compuleted the bet, consgrats."
y/n stiffened, when she felt the air tense around, "what bet?" her eyes were still locked on her boyfriend, "theo, what is he talking about?"
"just forget about it, bella."
draco started speaking, "tell her, don't bse a skank," he looked at the girl, "we made a bet, about the-
the boy beneath her tensed, "malfoy."
"theodore sleesping with yoou, we actually never thought that he'd succeeds, but look at our boyey."
y/n's heart stopped. she actually stopped breathing.
theodore nott was known as the player, but when he approached her, she never thought that it was for bad intentions. the girl was shocked, of course, that the famous theodore nott had interest in her, but never in her wildest dreams did she think that he would do such a horrible thing.
when they both arrived at hogwarts, they became good friends, but when he started hanging out with the slytherin group, he just disappeared and forgot about the girl. completely ignoring her. living his new life.
but years later in potions, when he came up to her with the question "do you want to be partners for the project?" with that slight smirk of his and those beautiful eyes, she never thought that he, theodore nott, would do that. y/n was happy that maybe she would get her friend back. at the end of the day she was just a girl who saw the best in others.
sooner or later, that would lead her to be shattered, like right now, when she felt her heart break.
"cara mia," theodore started, but the girl just removed herself from his lap, standing up.
her eyes landed on mattheo, who couldn't look at her, "you knew?"
silence.
after becoming closer with nott she befriended mattheo riddle, but as time went by, he became one of her best friends. but now staring at him, y/n realized it was all a lie.
she felt theodore gaze her arm, "y/n, let me explain," but she pulled it away, starting to walk away.
draco smiled, "heeey, no hard feelingss, it was jusft for fun."
but she ignored him while walking towards the exit.
this happened in films. in books. god, she was so naive. all those looks, all those late night talks, the way he ressured her when she felt low, the way he held her when she felt blue. the touches. kisses. secrets. the "i love you." it was all a show.
tears started to appear in her eyes, but she tried to hold them in. the girl wouldn't cry. not because of her stupidity, not because of him.
she heard the doors behind her slam shut while a voice was trying to get her attention, "y/n, please, let me explain."
he ran closer, "i swear it's not like that, i love you," he reached for her hand, "y/n, i swear it was a mist-"
the girl spun around, "were you involved with other girls while all this was going on?" she looked into his eyes.
"bella-"
"yes or no?"
but he didn't reply and she knew the answer. y/n bit the inside of her cheek, trying not to break in front of him, "you know what hurts the most? knowing that if the bet wasn't made, you would have never talked to me and still kept ignoring me, like the past two years."
"y/n, please-"
"fuck off, nott," and just like that she left him in the hallway. left him with her heart, that, once again, was broken. broken by the boy that made her feel everything. that made her feel pure happiness, who made her feel at home.
but it all was a lie. it all was a fucking bet. and y/n y/l/n was just a game.
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Mm thinking about how the scene where Ed finds the lovely letter Stede wrote him is intentionally about taking back queer narratives!
At the start of the scene, we see English soldiers reading it and laughing about it. "Some guy's all hot and bothered," the one reading it says. They act like it's a joke, like it's something to be laughed at. "Dear Ed, I long for you," he reads in this dramatic voice that sounds like he's barely able to hold back laughs.
And that's so often what queer love and desire is made into - just a joke.
And then it's not subtle at all - Ed fuckin' wastes those guys. He cares so little about them and their mockery of the love letter Stede wrote for him that he barely even looks at them.
The scene starts with these homophobic characters reading the letter like it's a joke, but then Ed takes it back and we get to hear that letter in both his and Stede's voices, with all the love and gravitas and sweetness it deserves. Their love, and this tangible representation of it, means so much to both of them, and we get to see that. And I love that, because yeah, these jerks talk about the letter like it's something to mock, but the show doesn't let them have a lot of space to do that before Ed takes it back and we get to see the letter for what it really is - heartfelt, and impactful, and a beautiful expression of queer love and desire.
It's a lovely scene.
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stillmonsterz · 3 months
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10th Street
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pairing: jake sim x reader, jay park x reader kind of (one-sided genre: raw sex with jake :/ summary: you go on a date with jay and it's looking bleak, but the bartender comes around to save the day. warnings: alcohol, unprotected sex, drug mentions, crypto mentions, jay is annoying and rich, oral sex.... word count: 5.4k and unproofread.
            “What really gets me about these rug pulls,” Jay says, steepling his fingers and placing them under his clean-shaven chin, “is that they’re so damn predictable. Any asshole with an ounce of intelligence could immediately spot that an anonymous crypto project is obviously going to rug. I mean, it’s fucking ridiculous, right?”
            “Right,” you say. Your eyes flicker across his face, taking in his features. You wonder if the sex will be worth this, but the cursory glances you’ve taken at his trousers have told you that it probably won’t.
            Your date is Jay Park, this entrepreneur who has made a name for himself in your area’s tech scene. When he had initially met you in a bookstore, skulking out of the philosophy section to not so much as introduce himself as to remind you of his name and status, you had assumed that he would have taken you someplace nicer. Instead, he drove you in his McLaren just outside of 10th Street. He had paid for 4 hours parking and had jostled you down the cluttered sidewalk, his Ferragamos clattering. Jay had gripped your elbow as he navigated you past drunkards, children wandering the streets without parents, and women with glassy eyes.
            Your voice was joking but belied some of your concern. “Where are you taking me, a traphouse?”
            “That’s date number two,” Jay had replied jovially, looking back at you in the light of the setting sun, “if I decide that you’re worth the effort.”
            You had bitten back a groan and continued following him down the street. Finally, he had stopped you outside of a seedy dive bar, with a hole in the glass boarded up with cheap planks. The planks themselves had been tagged with obscene phrases written in spray paint and Sharpie. Jay had pointed to one word and smiled at you with childish glee. “I wrote that one,” he had said proudly. “
            “You have awful writing,” you had said flatly, crossing your arms. “And this place looks like a crack den.”
            “That’s exactly why we’re here,” Jay replied in a wheedling tone, his grip on your elbow sliding down to your hand. He had interlaced your fingers together. “Come on, don’t you wish to shed the trappings of the social strata? Doesn’t this excite you?”
            A protest had begun to rise in your throat, but Jay had already pushed the door open, pulling you along. The bar was dimly lit, the lightbulbs flickering in the grimy lamps. Stains cover the cheap plywood flooring, and as Jay led you to a table the planks made harsh squeaking noises. Industrial metal was playing from a tinny radio, and the one LCD TV mounted in the corner was displaying grainy footage of a football game. The patrons crowding around the bar and littering the pool table are what you would expect. Loud, raucous, with hunched backs, jerky movements, and thinning hair. The glances that some of the men situated by the pool table gave you were reason enough to flee, but Jay’s grip is as tight as a viper.
            “Don’t mind them,” Jay had whispered, his face nothing short of elated. His head had surveyed the room, and a slow smirk settled onto his lips. His well-coiffed hair, youthful face, and understated yet expensive clothes had set him apart, something that greatly pleased him. He had turned back to you. “You’re probably the most beautiful woman they’ve seen in months.”
            “That’s not hard,” you had mumbled, crossing your arms. Your seat was sticky and the table separating you and Jay was riddled with dents and chips.
            “Oh, come on,” Jay had whined, spreading his arms widely. “Don’t be such a little princess. Isn’t this nice? This stripping of artifice, this beautiful and vulgar display of Americana? It’s exciting, isn’t it? Gets you kind of…turned on, right?”
            You had raised an eyebrow. “Are you?”
            “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t sporting a half-chub, yeah.”
            You had groaned. “You’re disgusting, Jay.”
            “Stop,” he had muttered, holding up his hand. “I might go full mast….” Jay had stood up hurriedly. “I’m going to get us drinks before I inelegantly bust all over the table. What do you want, like a Cosmopolitan or some shit?”
            “No…I kind of wanted a vodka cranberry?”
            Jay had scoffed, opening his wallet in a way that showed you his black card. “What, are you someone’s fucking grandmother? Christ.” He had stalked towards the bar, and you had sat there, trying not to make eye contact with any of the barflies. Finally, your gaze had fallen upon Jay talking to the bartender, at whom he was wildly gesticulating. The bartender was nodding patiently, taking a slow swig of a clear liquid in a tumbler. His apron was stained, his plain black V-neck exposed his thin arms and chest, and his eyes sparkled with a youthfulness one wouldn’t expect to find in a place like this.
            As you had watched the two of them, the bartender’s eyes had briefly slid towards you. His eyes had widened, then narrowed playfully before he went to prepare the drinks. Your chest had felt warm, but you stifled your smile as Jay had stalked back towards your table.
            “I feel bad for that poor bastard,” he had said, sidling into his chair and slinging his arm on the back of it. “Imagine being shackled to this shithole.”
            “I thought you liked this shithole.”
            “Yeah, as a brief recourse from the ardors of being really fucking rich,” Jay had retorted. “Not for the rest of my life. I mean, goddamn. Look at that prick.”
            Jay didn’t have to tell you twice. You took in his messy brown hair, his wide smile, his deft fingers. Then he had walked away from the counter, holding your vodka cranberry and an old-fashioned for Jay. His stride was sure, and he was only looking at you.
            “Here you are,” the bartender had said lowly. “Here’s your old-fashioned-“ he had set the drink in front of Jay with little fanfare- “and here’s your vodka cranberry.” He had slid the drink towards you, making brief eye contact with you. He had been so close to you, you could finally make out his name tag – Jake, written in careful capital letters- and you could smell the moonshine on his breath.
            “Yeah, thanks,” Jay had muttered.
            “Thank you,” you had added softly.
            Jake leaned away slowly, his eyes still lingering on you, before politely nodding. “Let me know if you need anything,” he had drawled before walking away.
            Jay had taken a long swig of his old-fashioned and takes a look at the retreating figure of Jake before groaning. “He should have made it even more obvious that he wanted you. He should have just shoved his cock into your old-lady drink and swirled it around so we really got the picture. Fuck me, I guess.”
            You had sipped your vodka cranberry and laughed. “Oh, come on. You’re reading too much into it.”
            “I’m not,” Jay had insisted, pointing at you with an accusatory glare. “He was checking you out in this lascivious manner. It was disgusting. He was looking at you like you were some piece of ass.” He had taken another long drink of his old-fashioned, barely wincing at the burn.
            “As opposed to you,” you had said sarcastically, “who only has pure intentions for me, right?”
            Jay had laughed. “Hey, it’s different when I objectify you. It’s kind of like when a homeless guy calls you sexy on the sidewalk compared to when an apex predator like me calls you sexy. The point is, that bartender wants you, and it’s revolting.”
            You had dared another glance at the bartender, who was blatantly staring at you while sipping his moonshine. “Relax. I’m probably just the first woman with a full set of teeth he’s seen in a while.”
            Jay had snickered again. “That’s probably true.” Only a few moments of silence had passed before his voice took on a mischievous, almost playful lilt. “You know, you could probably get something from him…”
            You had wiped the corner of your mouth with your thumbs. “What do you mean?”
            “You know,” Jay had said with a shrug, “you could get some free drinks out of him if you flirted a little, take advantage of him. You could probably get him to bequeath his life savings, which could maybe buy you a used microwave or a footlong.”
            Your mouth had gaped open. “Are you openly encouraging me to flirt with him?”
            “Yeah?”
            “Are you a cuck or something?”
            Jay had laughed again, slapping the table. “Ah, you slay me.” He had reached over and pinched your cheek, an action that made you want to bite his fingers off. “Come on, just shove your cute little ass in his face and flirt. It’ll be funny to make him think that he has a chance with you.”
            “I’ll pass,” you had replied. “I mean, it’s not really my thing to just play around with other peoples’ emotions.”
            He had sighed and shook his head in disappointment. “Oh, what am I going to do with you? You’re so goddamn innocent. You’re saying that you’ll feel some modicum of guilt if you fuck around with him?”
            “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
            Jay had downed the rest of his old-fashioned. “Recalcitrance is for bitches and pussies.”
            You had rolled her eyes. “Fine, so I’m a pussy.”
            Once again, that finger had found its way into your line of sight. “You know who’s really a pussy? This asshole who had invested in this obvious pump and dump…”
            As Jay rambles about crypto, you can’t help but look at the bartender. He’s behind the counter, cleaning a cloudy glass with a rag. When he notices that you’re looking at him, he smiles at you warmly before he looks at Jay and returns his attention to the glass.
            Jay corrals you into having another drink, and you listen to his sophomoric opinions on modern society, the current film industry, his tech predictions, and his opinions on right-wing pundits. The only thing stymying your boredom from overtaking you are your furtive glances at the bartender- Jake, you remind yourself. Jake.
            Finally, the two of you leave the shady bar, and Jay makes out with you as he presses you against his car. You close your eyes and think about Jake as his tongue probes inside of your mouth with little grace.
            “Listen,” you murmur, pulling away from his lips, “I have a presentation early in the morning to give, so I’m going to have to cut this date short…”
            “Oh, bullshit,” Jay says, groping your ass on the sidewalk, “you just don’t want to fuck me, is that it? Can you say that for me? Say that you don’t want to fuck me.”
            You sigh. “I don’t want to fuck you.”
            His hands comes off of your ass and he pulls away from you, shaking his head. “That’s all you had to say. I don’t get women. They’re always like, ‘Men never listen to us!’ Then they don’t explicitly tell us anything, we have to parse through their shit...” As Jay talks, he opens the passenger door. “Get in. Please.”
            You slide inside of his car and he closes the door, even buckling your seatbelt for you. Then he walks over to the driver’s seat and drives to your place. He calls you a cock-tease and a winsome harlot and some other choice terms you can barely hear.
            When he finally arrives at your place, he begs you for one last kiss. You oblige, he bemoans that he’ll never get to pound that tight strange, and he drives off, presumably to coerce someone into his bed for the night.
            Against your better judgement, you take an Uber and walk into that bar on 10th Street alone. This time, the lustful eyes of the barflies are less disgusting than they are frightening. Thankfully, the bar area has been just about cleared out, and you take a seat on a stool with a peeled cover.
            Jake is busy cleaning up a spill on the far end of the counter, but when he looks up and sees you his face brightens. He drops the cloth on the table and walks towards you with a goofy smile.
            “Hey, babydoll,” he says lowly, eyes sparkling. He doesn’t bother masking the fact that he’s openly checking you out, his eyes lingering on your breasts before meeting your own stare again. “Was your date that boring?”
            “He was…nice,” you reply, resting your head on your hand.
            Jake laughs. “Yeah, nice, sure.” He shakes his head slightly, like he can’t believe his good fortune. “You want something to drink, babe?”
            “Yeah, could you make me something nice and sweet? Nothing too alcoholic.”
            Jake points at you, cocking his head. “I’ve got just the thing for you.” He busies himself behind the bar, pouring this and that into a shaker. As he does, he can’t stop stealing glances at you. Every time he does, he smiles and bites his lip before looking away. Finally, he pours a light-yellow drink into a cocktail glass, carefully affixing a lemon wedge to the side before gently sliding it to you. “It’s a lemon drop,” he explains in his slow drawl.
            “Thank you.” You pull your wallet out of your purse. “How much is this?”
            Jake shakes his head. “Nah, for a pretty girl like you, it’s on the house.”
            A smile spreads across your face, and that warmth in your chest spreads. “Are you sure?”
            “Surer than anything, babe.” He gestures for you to try it, pushing his mop of hair back.
            You take a sip, and your eyes widen. “This is great.” You hold the glass by the stem as you drink it.
            “Thank you,” Jake says almost shyly. “Glad that I picked up something useful from bartending this shithole.”
            “How long have you been here?”
            “Been working here for…ten years? Owned it for three.” Jake takes a long sip of his moonshine, resting his elbows on the counter. “Not my first choice of job, but when you’re an addict and you need money, you’ll take anything.”
            Your mouth opens, but Jake quickly answers your question. “I’m clean now. Been clean for five years. My only vice is this.” He holds up his tumbler and shakes it before taking another sip.
            “Do you make that yourself?”
            Jake nods. “I make it myself, in the back,” he says, a tinge of pride in his voice. “This must be about…80% pure alcohol, I figure.”
            “Can I try some?” you ask tentatively.
            Jake laughs, his face contorting in disbelief. “Are you sure, babydoll? This could knock a grown man on his feet.”
            “Oh, I’m sure,” you say. You hate to back down from a challenge.
            With another laugh, he walks over to you, coming around the counter. He holds his glass out to you, and as you wrap your hand around the tumbler he tilts the liquid into your mouth. Jake’s eyes are fixed on your lips, awaiting your reaction.
            At first, it does little to you, and you’re about to say something snarky. Then the burning starts, flames licking at your throat, and you double over coughing. Your eyes are screwed up, filled with tears, and your hands clutch the edge of the counter.
            You can feel a hand rubbing your back, the other hand gently stroking your arm. “Aw, damn. You took that like a champ.”
            Through hacking coughs, you eke out, “I don’t feel like a champ.”
            Jake continues rubbing comforting circles on your back. “I’ve seen men collapse to their feet from a shot of moonshine. You’re a little firecracker, ain’t you?”           
            “Thanks,” you mutter, turning to look at him through watery eyes.
            “No problem. You want some water, babydoll?”
            You nod, and Jake reluctantly lets go of you to retrieve some water for you. He returns to your side with a glass, holding it up to your lips. The water is like a soothing balm for your throat, and after a long drink you sigh. “Damn.”
            Jake sets the glass down and picks up his own tumbler of moonshine, taking a long swig. “That’s moonshine for you.”
            Your eyes widen. “How are you drinking that so…so…”
            “Like it’s water?” Jake smiles at you cheekily, leaning against the counter next to you so that his elbows are on the edge and he’s facing you. “First of all, I’ve put shit up my nose that burned more than this. Second of all, I’m used to it. When you’re dealing with this day in and day out-“ he gestures widely at the bar- “you need something good and strong to get through it.”
            “Your liver must be strong as hell.”
            Jake laughs, setting his tumbler down. “It must be pickled at this point.”
            You can’t help but laugh, and he playfully pokes your shoulder. “Don’t laugh at my liver. It’s the only reason why I’m still standing.” Then he stills, appraising you with a careful gaze. “I never got your name, babydoll.”
            You tell him your name, holding your hand out.
            He takes it and shakes it firmly. “Lovely name. Suits you perfectly. My name’s Jake. Jake Sim.”
            He’s still holding your hand. “Pleased to meet you.”
            “Pleasure’s all mine,” he murmurs. Jake holds your hand to his lips and kisses it, traces of moonshine wetting your hand. He flattens your hand and idly starts tracing your palm, his other hand circling your wrist. “You’ve got nice hands. Real nice.”
            “Thank you,” you reply softly. “Yours are very rough.”
            Jake laughs somewhat self-consciously. He stops drawing on your palm with his index finger. “Yeah, well, you don’t work at a place like this for damn near a decade without getting a few calluses and cuts.”
            Your voice comes out as a whisper. “I like it.” You reach out and gently squeeze the tip of his finger, feeling the callus for yourself, before dropping it.
            Jake smiles, but his eyes take on a dangerous glint. His finger trails from the palm of your hand to your wrist, his fingertips gliding over your veins. “Yeah?”
            “Yeah.”
            For a moment, both of you continued smiling at each other. Then Jake licks his lips, and he lets go of your wrist. His other hand now strokes your forearm. “Why’d you come back here, baby? Coming to this shithole once is one thing, but twice in the same night…”
            You don’t see a point in playing games. “I wanted to see you.”
            The smile drops off of Jake’s face, and he leans in towards you. “Yeah? No bullshit?”
            “No bullshit.”
            His other hand moves to rest on your knee, and his thumb strokes it through your jeans. “Your date didn’t do it for you?”
            You shrug, picking up your lemon drop again and sipping it. “He was okay, I guess. He was weird.”
            Jake’s voice is becoming low, his eyes serious. His eyes flicker over your body, settling on your thighs. This time, he doesn’t bother looking back up at you. “You don’t like weird?”
            “Not that kind of weird,” you reply, your voice catching.
            “You don’t like rich prick typa weird?” His voice is amused, and his hand creeps up your knee. “You prefer broke bartender at a shit bar typa weird?”
            You lean in, your eyes locked onto his full, plush lips. The smell of moonshine has become less of a deterrent and more intoxicating. “Is that a problem?”
            “The opposite,” Jake replies in a husky voice. His lips brush your cheek as he moves to whisper in your ear. “I’m flattered that a gorgeous lady like you has interest in me.” His right hand is now caressing your thigh slowly, intentionally. The other touches your face with his thumb.
            “I’m surprised you’re flattered,” you reply, leaning into his touch slightly. “Women here must love you.”
            “They love me to get free drinks out of me,” he says dismissively. “Besides…most women who come here aren’t a fraction as pretty as you are. You’re like a gem in a pigsty, you know that?” When you don’t say anything, Jake continues, running his finger along your jaw. “Your date must’ve been as stupid as hell to let you go.” He pulls away from your ear so he can look you in your eyes.
            “He couldn’t do anything about it. I just didn’t want him the way-“
            Jake’s eyes narrow, and he comes impossibly closer. “The way what?”
            “The way I want you.”
            There’s a pause, and Jake’s face is unreadable. When he does talk, his voice is strained, “Tell me you aren’t fucking with me. Tell me you’re serious. Say the word, and I’ll shut this place down and kick all these junkies out.”
            You swallow, need and desire building up in the pit of your stomach. “I’m serious.”
            Jake pulls away from you and walks over to the barflies, telling them to get their drunk asses out. They complain and groan, but they leave without much of a fight. Once they’re all gone, Jake locks the door. “Come here,” he says, beckoning you with his finger.
            You walk towards him as if in a trance, and when you’re close he spins you around by the waist and kisses you. You readily kiss him back, your hands resting on his chest. His mouth tastes like moonshine, and you can even taste a hint of his sharp aftershave. Jake presses you up against the door, placing his knee in between your legs to trap you. The kiss starts off playful, but it grows hungry, and Jake seems as though he would swallow you if he could.
            When he pulls away from your lips, a string of saliva in between your mouths, his eyes dart all over your face. Then he nods slightly, as if he’s come to some grand conclusion.
            “What?” you ask, your hands snaking up to his cheek. “What is it?”
            Jake pecks your lips gently and smiles. “I just realized…I’m not going to be able to take my time with you.” Before you can say anything, he wraps his arm around your waist and guides you behind the counter to a wooden door that looks liable to give one splinters.
            When he opens the door, the smell of alcohol is almost staggering, and Jake’s grip tightens on your waist as if he had anticipated that reaction. Bottles of alcohol are stacked in crates on wooden shelves on the far wall. To the right rests three DIY pot stills, all using dented kegs. To the left, there’s a small faux-leather couch with chunks of it peeling off. You think back to Jay’s words about the artifice or whatever the fuck, and suddenly you wish there was at least a bit of pretense. But when you turn to Jake, he’s smiling at you like you had hung the moon in the sky yourself. “I know it’s no Hilton,” he begins sheepishly, but you shut him up by kissing him squarely on the mouth.
            “It works for me,” you say, biting your lips.
            Jake’s grin widens. “Shit, okay.”
            You tumble together on the couch with Jake, your mouths connecting sloppily and wetly. You suck his tongue into your mouth hungrily, causing you to choke slightly. This only spurs Jake on further, and he grinds his crotch into you. Your hips rise to meet his, and you hump each other desperately and almost painfully. His hand crawls up your stomach, and he gropes at your breasts. Finally, he pushes himself off of you, settling into a kneeling position. Through the dim light filtering in through the cracks of the door, you can see that Jake’s lips are swollen, his hair messy, and his eyes wild.
            “Take it off,” he grunts. “Everything. Now.”
            Your hands fumble with the zipper of your jeans, excitement clogging throat. As you tug your jeans down, Jake unbuckles his belt, throwing it to the side. You kick your shoes off, shimmy your jeans off, and toss your shirt away, leaving you in only your bra and panties. When you’re suitably undressed, you look up at Jake.
            Jake’s shirt is off, revealing a dark mass of skin you recognize as tattoos. One of his hands has slipped into his boxers, and he’s staring at you. A moan escapes his lips as his eyes wander your body. “So fucking perfect,” he says, voice strained as he plays with his cock. “So goddamn beautiful. Play with yourself for me, baby.”
            You tentatively tug your underwear down, collecting your arousal to coat your clit before stroking it with two fingers. You’re so sensitive that just the first touches cause you to whine in pleasure.
            “Spread your legs,” Jake hisses. “Nice and wide…”
            You oblige, widening your legs so that Jake gets a full view of your pearly pussy. He moans again, his mouth watering at the sight of it, at the hot, sweet smell. “Let me taste it. Let me taste it,” he begs, dipping his head down.
            As his wide tongue touches your clit, you cry out in pleasure. Jake laps at your clit with fervor, his hands pushing your legs apart as he licks wide stripes. His mouth makes obscene smacking noises, and when he briefly pulls away to catch his breath, his entire lower face is slick with your arousal. “So good,” he mutters before diving back in. You squirm, knowing that you’ll cum quickly if he doesn’t stop, but Jake’s nails dig into your fleshy thighs, holding you in place.
            “Oh, Jake, Jake,” you pant out, head leaning back. “Jake, I’m so close, Jake…”
            Seemingly encouraged by your words, Jake continues attacking your clit, and two of his bony fingers slip into your vaginal walls, spreading you open. They pump themselves in and out, in and out, like the undulations of the ocean. Like that, he rips an orgasm from you, continuing to lick the arousal spilling from you as you ride out the wave of pleasure.
            You lean your head back on the armrest of the couch, trying to catch your breath. Jake gently caresses your thigh as you come down from your high, peppering your neck with kisses. “Tasted amazing,” he says, voice ragged. “Tasted like paradise.”
            Your brain is so fuzzy you can hardly piece together a coherent sentence. “That was so good, Jake.”
            Jake smiles at you and gives you a kiss on the mouth, slow and gentle. You greedily lick your own juices off of his lips, even sucking it off of his tongue. As you kiss, you can feel the head of his cock poking at your entrance. “Sorry,” Jake says blithely, “but I need to fuck you right now.” 
            You nod. “Please.”
            To his credit, he takes his time. He fucks into you slowly and carefully, wanting you to adjust. He’s not long, but he’s girthy and fills you well. He feeds you his cock inch by inch, moving in and out as so not to hurt you. Once you seem at ease, he pushes your thighs up so that your knees touch your breasts and fucks you at a faster pace. After a minute or so of that position, he seemingly gets tired of it, opting to place your legs over his shoulder. This allows him to hit a sweet angle, one that has you moaning.
            He’s fucking you so quickly that your breasts begin to hurt, so you cover them with your hands. Jake swats your fingers with his free hand, the other wrapped around your legs. “Stop that,” he huffs out. “Let your tits bounce.” You let go of your breasts, and he licks his finger to swirl it around your nipples, marveling at their stiffness. He kneads your breasts as he pounds into you with grunts of effort.
            Jake pulls out of you, and the loss causes you to cry out. He grabs you by your shoulders and pulls you around so that your head is lolling over the edge of the armrest. He hovers over you, one hand prying your mouth open. “Need to fuck this mouth of yours. Will you let me, babydoll?”
            You pant out your assent, and he slides his wet cock into your mouth. First you kitten-lick the head, tasting your own hot arousal, then he presses his cock further down, treating your mouth like a pussy. As you gag around his dick, you play with his balls, fondling them with one hand. With the other, you play with your engorged, reddened clit. This doesn’t go unnoticed by him. “You’re amazing,” Jake pants out. “Playing with yourself while you get facefucked.”
            You tap his stomach, and he pulls his cock out, stroking your cheek gently. “All good?” he asks tentatively.
You nod and spit somewhere on his floor before taking him back into your mouth. “So good to me,” Jake praises. “So, so good.” Once he’s done fucking your mouth, he pulls out and his cock on your cheek, almost playfully. Then he pulls you over so that you’re flat on your stomach, your head still hanging over the edge of the couch. He spanks your ass once, twice, then slips his wet, stiff cock into your folds, moaning as he does.
This time, his pace isn’t furious, but moderate. He pulls you up so that your back rests on his chest. He’s on his knees, fucking his cock into you upright. Your hips meet Jake’s, so that you’re bouncing on his dick. He kneads your breast with one hand, the other hand holding your waist. Your lips meet in a sloppy, rushed kiss before he pushes you down and grips your hips. He pounds into you with strangled moans, sounding more animalistic than anything else.
“You like this?” he asks, the question sounding less like dirty talk and more like a desperate need for assurance.
“I like it!” Your voice is tremulous, shaking as he thrusts harder and harder into you.
“That rich prick you were with couldn’t fuck you like this, right?” He punctuates his sentence by pulling out of you before slamming himself back inside with a groan.
You moan loudly, trying to clutch the armrest for support. “No, he couldn’t. He’s nothing like you.”
“That’s right,” Jake says, closing his eyes. “He couldn’t. He couldn’t make you purr like I do.” His thrusts become sloppier and faster, and you slip your hand down so you can rub your clit to chase your own orgasm.
Peals of moans spill from your lips. “I’ve never been fucked like this before, Jake.”
“I thought so.” Jake flips you over so he can enter you from the front, pushing one of your legs to the side. He slides in and out of you with ease, your juices having pooled on the couch. “You need to be fucked like this, don’t you?”
“I need it,” you choke out, your stomach desperately burning. “I need it, Jake.”
As he comes close to orgasm, you can feel his cock twitch inside of you. “Fuck, a girl like you just begs to be treated like this.”
“That’s right,” you babble.
Jake doesn’t talk anymore, instead letting out low grunts as he comes close. Your second orgasm hits you first, and you scream out his name. The tightening of your vaginal walls is enough to bring him to climax, and with a final grunt and a low, “Fuck!” he spills into you. He pulls out of you and weakly rubs his cock to spill his last few spurts of hot cum on your stomach. Then he wearily collapses, leaning back on the opposite side of the couch.
Both of you recover from the heated session, and you gasp for air. After a while, you feel Jake’s hand on yours, and he pulls you onto him. He strokes your hair and kisses both of your cheeks. You wrap your arms around him and rest your cheek on his chest.
“I can’t just let you go,” he murmurs, fingers tangling in your hair. “I’m going to need you again soon.”
You look up at him, surprised. “Again? Soon?”
Jake laughs, his playfulness returning. “We’re going to rest up for a little, and then I’m going to take you again. We need two more rounds, at minimum. What do you say?”
“I say you’re insane,” you reply, any snark momentarily eviscerated by the residual pleasure spreading in your body.
“You like it.”
“Shut up.”
With another laugh, Jake kisses the top of your head. “You’re cute.”
You allow your eyes to flutter shut as you revel in his embrace, taking in Jake’s scent and comfort.
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hotvintagepoll · 1 month
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Propaganda
Yvonne De Carlo (Frontier Gal, The Ten Commandments, Casbah)— Although most famous for playing Lily Munster in The Munsters, Yvonne De Carlo had a successful movie career throughout the 1940s and 1950s, appearing in such films as “The Ten Commandments”, “Sea Devils” and two Munster movies later in life.
Setsuko Hara (Tokyo Story, Late Spring, The Idiot)— "'The only time I saw Susan Sontag cry,' a writer once told me, his voice hushed, 'was at a screening of a Setsuko film.' What Setsuko had wasn’t glamour—she was just too sensible for that—it was glow, one that ebbed away and left you concerned, involved. You got the sense that this glow, like that of dawn, couldn’t be bought. But her smiles were human and held minute-long acts, ones with important intermissions. When she looked away, she absented herself; you felt that she’d dimmed a fire and clapped a lid on something about to spill. Over the last decade, whenever anyone brought up her lips—'Setsuko’s eternal smile,' critics said, that day we learned that she’d died—I thought instead of the thing she made us feel when she let it fall." - Moeko Fujii
This is round 2 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.
[additional propaganda submitted under the cut]
Yvonne de Carlo:
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The woman who brought Burt Lancaster to his knees.
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Setsuko Hara:
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One of the best Japanese actresses of all time; a symbol of the golden era of Japanese cinema of the 1950s After seeing a Setsuko Hara film, the novelist Shūsaku Endō wrote: "We would sigh or let out a great breath from the depths of our hearts, for what we felt was precisely this: Can it be possible that there is such a woman in this world?"
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One of the greatest Japanese actresses of all time!! Best known for acting in many of Yasujiro Ozu's films of the 40s and 50s. Also she has a stunning smile and beautiful charm!
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She's considered by some to be the greatest Japanese actress of all time! In Kurosawa's The Idiot she haunts the screen, and TOTALLY steals the show from Mifune every time she appears.
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"No other actor has ever mastered the art of the smile to the same extent as Setsuko Hara (1920–2015), a celebrated star and highly regarded idol who was one of the outstanding actors of 40s and 50s Japanese cinema. Her radiant smile floods whole scenes and at times cautiously undermines the expectations made of her in coy, ironic fashion. Yet her smile's impressive range also encompasses its darker shades: Hara's delicate, dignified, melancholy smile with which she responds to disappointments, papers over the emotions churning under the surface, and flanks life's sobering realizations. Her smiles don't just function as a condensed version of her ever-precise, expressive, yet understated acting ability, they also allow the very essence of the films they appear in to shine through for a brief moment, often studies of the everyday, post-war dramas which revolve around the break-up of family structures or the failure of marriages. Her performances tread a fine line between social expectation and personal desire in post-war Japan, as Hara attempts to lay claim to the autonomy of the female characters she plays – frequently with a smile." [link]
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Leading lady of classic Japanese cinema with a million dollar smile
Maybe the most iconic Japanese actress ever? She rose to fame making films with Yasujiro Ozu, becoming one of the most well-known and beloved actresses in Japan, working from the 30s through the 60s in over 100 hundred. She is still considered one of the greatest Japanese actresses ever, and in my opinion, just one of the greatest actresses of all time. And she was HOT! Satoshi Kon's film Millennium Actress was largely based on her life and her career.
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piratesfromspace · 5 months
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Just Like Old Times (Price x Reader + poly141)
Pairing: Reader x Price (& Reader x 141) Rated: Mature Word count: 2.9k Summary: A cottage in the snow. A Captain you knew in another life. His rugged and attractive men. Will you let them into your life? Note: This is a fic I wrote for @literatecowboy for the Secret Santa event organized by @bunnyreaper! I tried to make something soft and sweet and it's taking place during the winter, it's not smutty but if you like it, I can make a part 2 with some action 👀
EDIT: we have a PART 2!!
Content: ex-military!fem!reader, mention of food & alcohol, a little bit of angst but it’s mainly fluff, smoking, flirting, praise kink, sharing body heat
MASTERLIST // PART 2
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It had been Laswell’s idea. 
The team needs to be ready for snow conditions, do whatever you think is best. You have 3 weeks. And I’m talking extreme weather, Price, not a little trip to your local ski resort.
Those had been the instructions Kate had delivered to an unphased Price.
He knew it was only a matter of time before this kind of mission would be required from them. Of course, the men of the 141 have already trained in the cold of England, have seen and tested the winter gear. But Laswell is about to send them somewhere at the very East of Europe, and there is a small difference between surviving winter in London and surviving winter in places where the cold could kill you in minutes if you didn't have the proper equipment or knowledge. Over there, more than usual, tiny mistakes could have big consequences. And Price would rather not have his team freeze to death because of a lack of training. 
It’s December and the month is cold already. But it’s nothing compared to the cold Soap feels when he steps out of the helicopter. It’s like Price has picked the coldest place he knows in America. He’s pretty sure they are somewhere in Wyoming or Montana, the only thing he can see are mountains all around them. Spruce and fir trees sprawl in dark patches contrasting with the stark white of the snow covering everything. He crosses the large glade to reach the tree line, as the helicopter takes off, sending the fresh snow flying in every direction. The sky is a light gray, and while the whole scene is stunning - makes his head spin with equal awe and wonder thinking about nature’s force and brutal beauty - it means there is no sun to warm his face. 
“Come on soldiers, let’s move, we still have a two-hour hike to reach our B&B!”
“You mean someone will be there to make us breakfast Captain?” Soap chimes, unbridled joy coming through his voice at the prospect of warm home-made meals instead of MREs.
Price has a hard time hiding a smile as he starts walking on the thin winding path, only recognisable for those who know it’s there. ”There will be someone, but I’m not sure they will cook for you, Sergeant.”
Ghost lets out a dry chuckle and follows the steps of their Captain, leaving Soap and Gaz a bit puzzled.
❄️
The sun is already setting when you hear loud voices outside, and soon after a series of knocks on your door. You’re a little stressed when you rise from the floor in front of your fireplace to go open the door. You have agreed to shelter those 4 soldiers for 3 entire weeks only as a favor to Price. An old acquaintance who saved your life, a decade earlier, before you left the field to heal your wounds - body and mind. The large wood cabin had been your home for a few years already. You keep it open for women like you, in need of time away from the world, although it’s pretty rare they come during winter time when the road is blocked by snow. It’s an old building, but well-kept and you made it as cozy as possible, all warm natural tones, plush carpets on dark wood floors, dark gray stones in the bathrooms. 
You welcome them with a soft smile, delighting in their surprise - seems like John had not told them he planned on using your cottage as a back-up base for this training expedition. John’s team members are not really what you expected: there is one Scott with a mohawk that seems simultaneously annoyed and happy to be there (he has terrific blue eyes), a young and calm brown-haired Brit (he’s really cute, like movie-star cute), and a behemoth with a literal skull mask (his size alone has your head spinning). You can’t complain about them though, as they are polite and friendly, praising your home - and for sure taking in the comfort and warmth one last time before heading off for days of rudimental camping in the icy woods. You don’t envy them, remembering that one mission you did in Siberia when you were still in active duty, that wasn’t really fun. They settle in their rooms easily and you all share a quick dinner you had cooked - except for the masked giant. The banter goes fast between them, especially after you offer them beers. You like being alone, but you have to admit they are fun to be around.
❄️
The living room is silent and dark, the only light coming from the fireplace across your couch. After dinner, you had trouble finding sleep in your room, so you went to read a bit in front of the fire. But you must have dozed off, because you wake up suddenly, gasping, arms flailing, sitting up immediately. Your frantic eyes, wide open, scan the room for the reason of your awakening, survival instinct going overdrive. Someone is standing in your living room, frozen in place on their way to the front door. It’s the behemoth with the skull mask - the scariest of them all, of course.
“Didn’t mean to scare you.” he apologizes. In the darkness of the room, it looks like his jaw is not even moving beneath the dark fabric covering the lower half of his face, like the sound just pours out of him or like he’s speaking directly inside your head. He might actually, you’re not entirely convinced the giant is not some sort of supernatural being John brought back from a cursed battlefield. It’s unnerving to say the least. 
“I’m sorry, it- it happens sometimes, I can’t help it, my instinct thought you were a threat…” you blurt out before realizing you may have offended him in some way by implying he’s not worthy of your trust. But instead of scoffing, he lets out a thoughtful hum, lowering his head to look at his boots, almost sheepish. 
“Don’t. Don’t apologize.” His voice is low, calm, and at the same time you can feel something else, sadness, maybe disappointment, in what or who, you’re not sure.
“Care for a smoke?” he offers after a beat of silence, nodding to the front door. You don’t smoke anymore, cut the nasty habit years ago. That’s why you don’t know what compels you to accept, but you’re not gonna be able to sleep now, so you follow him outside, grabbing your coat on the way. 
You half expect him to smoke through the mask, but he pushes the fabric up enough to reveal a strong jaw covered in light stubble, and plush lips. So he’s human after all. The slick and heavy storm lighter looks ridiculously small in his giant hand when he lights his cigarette. He takes a deep puff before handing it to you.
“Sorry, last one.”
Your fingers graze his, and you bring it to your lips to drag a small puff that immediately makes you cough.
“You ok?” he rasps, humor tilting the corner of his mouth upwards.
“Yeah, it’s been a while, that’s all” you provide. He hums in approval at your explanation. 
When you hand him the cigarette, you take a moment to look at his mouth, the way his throat works when he inhales, the way the silver smoke dances between his open lips and fades into the night sky. Something warms your gut when you realize his lips are set just where yours had been a few seconds ago. 
You don’t know what’s more attractive, this or the fact he doesn’t try to make conversation for the sake of it. He doesn’t bother to explain why he couldn’t sleep and felt the need to smoke at 3 in the morning. He knows you understand. You are just glad to bask in the soft noises of nature at night - wind in the threes, the hooting of an owl. Fuck, you’ve been alone up there for too long to thirst on John’s colleagues just like this, just a few hours after their arrival. You shake your head, driving out the thought, and take the cigarette again from his fingers.
❄️
The next morning, you wake up pretty early after a short night, only to find one of them - the pretty one, Gaz - is already fixing coffee in your kitchen like he belongs there. You honestly could get used to this. The thin long sleeves of his shirt are doing nothing to conceal the muscles underneath, rolling as he’s going about this mundane task of preparing breakfast. His kind eyes and soft voice when he asks for your choice of eggs makes your heart flutter with a yearning for this kind of intimate domesticity you had never really allowed yourself up until then. It’s kinda concerning, at this rate you’re gonna ask one - all? - of them to stay with you in your cottage instead of going back to whatever missions at the other end of the world. 
The rest of the day is not making you change your mind. Price had asked if anything needed their help around the house, and you gave them the tedious task of moving the gigantic pile of wood logs stocked at the other end of your garden closer to the house. It would have taken you days to do it by yourself. But by lunch time, the pile had dwindled to a fifth of what it was thanks to the hard work of the four men. The two younger ones were down to their long-sleeve compression shirts despite the cold, sleeves rolled up their elbows, showing off strong forearms, various scars slashing across the discreet swirls of black ink from old tattoos. Some disappear under the black gloves they are all sporting. Sweat plasters the fabric of their shirts to their shoulders and chests. You can’t deny they look fucking good. 
You had accepted Price’s demand without much after-thought, but now you couldn’t be more happy about it, ogling those four rugged men laboring away for you. Despite being older than his men, Price is far from looking bad. He’s built like a brick house, a healthy layer of fat covering muscles he’s been honing for two decades. Dark hair peaks from the open collar of his jacket, your eyes follow the line of the thin garment which is hugging his tapered waist, down to his thick thighs. Fuck. You remember what it was like to be close to him - literally and figuratively. He was your colleague, an equal, a couple years older than you but you shared the same rank. He was a mentor, a friend, a lover - only briefly, after that fateful mission where he saved your life on the field. You parted ways in good spirit after you announced that you wanted to retire, needed to get your head straight before committing to anything. Today, you ask yourself if maybe you could take this back from where you left it.
❄️
You want to train with us today, love? Just like old times.
Price had asked you the question the next morning and you had not been hard to convince. It was more about being able to look at them than to train your body, but they didn’t need to know that. Even if you keep a pretty healthy lifestyle, you can’t compete with elite soldiers, and by the fourth set of push-ups, your arms are giving out. You’re about to stop and reach for your water bottle, when Price notices. 
“Come on, you can do five more, I’m sure!”
You groan in response, but you go back in position.
“Breathe, love. Back a little more straight. Elbows in. That’s it… Good.” 
Price’s deep voice is calm as he’s encouraging you, gently correcting your posture.
“Don’t look down, chin up. Perfect, you’re doing good.” he goes on, and you cheeks warm under his praise, enough to make you forget the stinging cold. Your whole body is clenched with the effort, you’re letting out little cries with each push-up, your muscles are hurting, but you want nothing more than to make the captain proud.
“Just one more. Done! You did great darling, I’m impressed.” 
He helps you get up on shaking legs and when you almost stumble, he secures you upright against his chest, keeps you there for two seconds more than he should for it to not look intentional. When you raise your head, you’re suddenly so close to his face, blue eyes staring down at you with a glint in them you can’t ignore. You reluctantly part before reaching for your water bottle again, playing coy.
The three others are not oblivious to the little game between you and Price. You notice how they exchange knowing looks and little smiles whenever you both interact. Worst, they also seem to pick up on your love for being praised and soon enough they take every excuse to whisper how good your aim still is during target training, or how smart you are for knowing everything about the local fauna during your afternoon hike. It never sounds like they’re mocking you though, never feels like it’s not genuine. It’s not fair, really. At this rate, you don’t know how you’re gonna survive living under the same roof with four attractive men for three entire weeks. 
The answer to this torture of yours is revealed quickly. After a few days of acclimatization at your cottage, Price and his men are ready for a long expedition higher in the mountains, with just tents and even a short surviving-in-extreme-cold workshop. They will be gone for at least ten days. You watch them pack their gear and leave your place with a pinch in your heart you couldn’t expect when you first opened your door to them.
❄️
Days go by, pretty uneventful, until your heating system breaks down. It’s not the first time since you’re leaving up there, it’s not that scary but you’ll have to wait a few days for the repair team to come by. In the meantime, you resort to live and sleep in your living room, where the fireplace provides enough heat to keep you warm in the heart of the winter.
They come back the day after that, and when you see their silhouettes emerging from the treeline, just before the sun sets down, you can’t prevent your lips to form a smile so big it hurts your cheeks after a couple minutes standing in the biting cold. 
The fondness in Price’s eyes is not dulled by the news your heater is out of order, nor is the relief on Soap’s and Gaz’s faces at the promise of a solid roof and comfy beds after days of rudimentary accommodations.
You all work to prepare some food, and to bring a couple mattresses with all the duvets you can find in front of the fireplace - the only sane solution for you all to sleep without suffering too much from the freezing temperatures. It reminds you of your years of service, when you sometimes had to share a single room with your whole squad - you’re not missing the stress and the harsh living conditions, but you’re definitely missing the camaraderie, the jokes and fits of laughter, the bodies of trusted people around you. 
They leave you the couch - gentlemen that they are - the objectively most comfortable option, but once again you can’t find sleep. The piece of furniture is the farthest away from the fire, and you’re on your own, no one next to you to share body heat with you. 
It’s only because I’m cold. That’s the poor excuse you give yourself - and the one you whisper to Price - when you step down from your couch to seek a place under the cover next to John. He’s sleeping next to Gaz; Soap and Ghost are sharing the other mattress. You slide yourself against him, immediately melting into his chest, the man radiating heat like it’s his only purpose in life. He doesn’t even have to ask you if it’s okay to hold you against him because you plaster yourself to him and nuzzle against his chest, old habits taking over your sleepy brain. A sense of safety and comfort envelopes you at the same time his warmth does. You forgot how good it felt to be in his embrace, to be tucked against his broad chest, surrounded by his smell - manly, ambery wood, and the rich spice of his cigars. 
He chuckles silently as you settle at his side and let out a little content sigh. He missed that too, he won’t say it out loud, but having you like this, soft and pliant in his arms, it makes him wonder how he could be such a fool for not seeking you sooner. He suddenly wants to kiss you, to make you feel good, here and now, no matter the fact his men are sleeping just a few inches from you. Should he care? He’s not blind to the fact you spend a good amount of time leering at them since they’re here, and to the fact they are watching you back. He can not ignore the shameless flirting going on between all of you five actually. John has never really been in a situation like this, doesn’t know where this will lead him - where this could lead them. But he’s ready to follow you. He takes a deep breath before he talks. 
“Just like old times?” He asks, voice low, chest vibrating with it under your palm. 
Just like old times… The words echo in your head, echo in your heart. He gives you the opportunity to lead him - to lead them - wherever you wish.
“Just like old times.” You repeat back to him, before you capture his lips in a gentle kiss.
PART 2
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gummydummy19 · 4 months
Text
The bear and his honey
Summary: How grumpy Sy won your heart and you won his :))
Content Warnings: Fluff, sunshine x grumpy trope, smut (oral, fingering, piv, creampie, pet names, praise, hint of a size kink)
A/N: Look at that! I wrote another Sy fic! @omgkatinka sent me this: After that fic today I kept thinking about first dates with Sy. And how either epic or awful it would be if your first date was getting stuff from ikea and assembling the stuff together. I feel like that would either forge an unbreakable alliance or doom the connecton right away. But I really like the idea. and I LOVED IT so I included that in here as well :)) It's not their first date but I hope you still like it <3
Word Count: 4k+ (holy shit)
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Like a little girl seeing a big teddy bear at the fair, you were sold when you first met Sy. There was something immediately comforting about him. He was quiet and a little grumpy, but he always treated you with respect. A real Southern gentleman, as they say.
It took a long time before he asked you out. You kept running into him at get-togethers, always being drawn to him from the second you walked in.
In the beginning, you worried you were coming on too strong, always sticking to his side, asking him questions, flirting with him...
One night your entire friend group got together again for a cookout and drinks around the fire. Everyone was perfectly tipsy and content, and when the conversation started taking a more juvenile turn, you heard something that made your cheeks feel warm.
"Oh come on, everyone knows Sy's got it bad for you!", Cory boomed, swinging around his beer.
"Shut up, Cory", you hushed him, dismissing it quickly. You tried to ignore the way your stomach fluttered at the idea of Sy being into you, but when you saw him blushing, (yes, blushing) on the other side of the fire you felt your heart swell.
After that night, you started getting more confident. You loved teasing him, always poking the bear. You tried to get a rise out of him every chance you got, knowing he had a soft spot for you.
Admittedly, you were having a fun time pushing his buttons, but after almost two weeks of flirty comments and hanging under his arm whenever you could, he still hadn't asked you out.
So after another night of teasing, flirting, a couple of debatably too-strong martinis, and what Cory called "canoodling" you finally hit your breaking point.
"Are you planning on asking me out? Like ever?", you blurted out.
Okay, those martinis were definitely too strong.
"Ya want me to?"
Is he joking?
He chuckled and you realised you said that last bit out loud.
That Friday he showed up on your doorstep at exactly 6pm, on the dot, and handed you a gorgeous bouquet of flowers.
You could tell he really made an effort. He was wearing a button-up shirt and what looked like a fresh, new pair of jeans.
"Oh Sy, these are beautiful!", you squealed, before pressing a chaste kiss to his fuzzy cheek, 'Let me go put them in water, and then we'll be on our way!'
He didn't say much, he just grumbled as you skipped about your apartment in your pretty little dress, like you didn't know exactly what you were doing to him.
He took you to the most expensive restaurant in town, where he briefly told you about his job and his family before casually shifting the conversation back to you.
You let your foot wander up his leg while you innocently told him about yourself, loving the way he startled when the waiter showed up.
Afterward, he walked you home and gave you a kiss on your cheek, just as innocent as the one you had given him before. You were a little disappointed when he didn't come in, but you decided to deem his chivalry as charming.
A week and a half later, he took you to the drive-in for your second date. They showed some old James Bond movie, the perfect combination of action and steamy romance as you cuddled closer to him in his truck.
During a particularly spicy scene, you let your hand wander up his thigh, but before you got to his crotch, he stopped you.
You looked up at him with a frown, but to your surprise, his eyes were still glued to the screen.
You felt your cheeks heat up in embarrassment, thinking maybe you read the situation wrong. Maybe he just wanted to be friends? Maybe that's why he didn't kiss you last time? Why he didn't wanna come upstairs with you...
The nasty thoughts kept pouring in and you felt yourself spiral down. You shuffled away from Sy's embrace, gently moving to sit as far away from him as possible, half debating just getting out of the car completely.
'What's wrong?' Sy asked as he looked at you, sitting against the door of his truck.
"If you don't want me you can just say that Sy," you said bitterly, staring out the window.
When you heard him chuckle, you angrily snapped your head back to see if you were actually hearing it correctly.
"Oh, you think that's funny?" you spat.
You tried to open the door. You wanted to leave. To get as far away from him as possible, but the door was locked, and before you could protest, he wrapped his big arm around your waist and swiftly pulled you back against him.
You had no time to wriggle yourself out of his grip, because he moved his bearded face down to your ear and whispered, "You can't always get what you want, sugar."
You didn't know what to say. His actions had already confused you and now his words confused you even more.
He grinned at your puzzled look, grabbing your chin in his large paw.
"What do you want?" he asked calmly, looking straight into your eyes.
"You."
"You have me," he stated, making butterflies erupt in your stomach
"Doesn't fucking feel like it." you dared, keeping your voice low and your eyes away from his.
"Bratty little thing, aint ya?," he grinned, secretly a little proud at your ballsiness, tho he'd never admit it.
His grasp on your jaw tightened, making your eyes snap back at his.
"If you want something, you gotta ask nicely, sugar." he drawled, leaning in a bit closer, "Now, what do you want from me."
Your whole body felt like it was on fire. Your eyes darted from his gorgeous eyes down to his plush lips and back before you spoke, "A kiss, please."
A cheesy grin spread over his face and he loosened his grip on your jaw, moving his hand to cup the side of your face, gentle but firm.
He leaned in, his breath mingling with yours as he spoke, "Such a polite girl," before finally attaching his lips to yours.
That night you realized Sy wasn't as soft as you thought he was, in fact, he had quite the mean streak...
Another week of sweet texts and teasing phone calls later, you knew you were in deep.
Your third date wasn't even supposed to be a date. He took you for a walk in the park. You started holding his hand about halfway through the walk, with little intention of ever letting go.
It was meant to be a short stroll, just to get some air, but soon the sun started setting and your stomach started rumbling.
'Ya hungry? I know a good place nearby', he stated, pulling you closer against his side.
'Sy...I'm really not dressed for anything fancy...', you replied, knowing Sy's definition of 'a good place' when it came to you.
'Don't you worry sugar, you're dressed just fine', he grinned, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.
20 minutes later you were standing at a food truck, being introduced as 'his girl' to one of his old army buddies wearing a 'kiss the cook' apron.
While you munched on your greasy food, Sy told you the truck had been there since last summer, after their last tour. He was there every week.
It wasn't hard to notice the way Sy shifted when he talked about his work. You didn't push or pry, you just listened, letting your thumb trace over his hand as he opened up to you. Funny, how this thing with a man you had only kissed once already felt like the most intimate relationship you'd ever been involved in.
Two weeks after your first kiss, you got Sy to join you for a trip to Ikea. You needed a new bookshelf and your car was too small to fit it, so you convinced Sy to bring his truck. Getting to stroll around with him through the hallways with your hands linked was simply a bonus.
When you first walked in, you could tell Sy was a little uncomfortable. This wasn't exactly his area, fluffy rugs, decorative pillows,...he felt so out of place. But seeing you with a big smile on your face, dragging him around to show him which wineglasses you liked, made it worth it.
You made him feel at ease, but nervous at the same time. The whole thing felt so domestic, so innocent. So, why was the only thought on his mind pushing you onto one of those beds and fucking you six ways from Sunday?
Aside from that kiss in the car and a couple steamy messages, not much had happened between the two of you. It's not like you didn't want to, you just wanted to take it slow and Sy was trying to be a tease gentleman.
By the time you got to the storage place, he was a lot more relaxed. Maybe it was the fact that there were no more soft blankets or colorful couches. This part of the building was definitely more his vibe. Though, being able to show off his strength when it was time to carry the boxes may also have something to do with it...
You were almost at checkout, Sy was pushing the cart, half his view was blocked and he was trying not to crash into anything when he heard you squeal loudly.
"OH MY GOD!"
"What? What happened?" He peaked past the mountain of cardboard. He was worried something might have happened, but when he saw what you were holding, he grinned in confusion.
"He looks just like you!" you exclaimed happily, holding a big, stuffed bear with dark brown fur. "I'm taking him home with me."
Sy tried to keep a stern look but failed miserably, chuckling while he pulled you into him.
"What, am I not enough for you anymore? Should I be worried?", he joked.
"Don't you worry, baby. You will always be my big bear. The little one is just for when you're not around", you explained.
"Well if I'm your bear, you're my honey", he mumbled, pressing a kiss against the top of your head. God, he always smelled so fucking good... "Oh! I can spray some of your cologne on him!"
You kept babbling happily as you dragged Sy to the checkout. He didn't even know how long he had been smiling, but somehow he just couldn't stop. Fuck, what are you doing to him?
45 minutes later it was your turn to try and suppress your laugh. You were sitting on your couch, sipping a glass of white wine, and watching your man try and prove just how manly he is.
"Sy, honey, I really think if you just looked at the instructions..."
"I don't need no damn instructions, it's a fucking bookshelf", he grumbled.
"Alright, suit yourself...", you sighed, turning the page of your magazine.
Barely a second later you got startled by a loud bang and a string of curses. You looked up to see the damage and were met with a fuming Sy clutching his thumb.
"Not a word", he said.
"M'not saying anything!", you chuckled.
Another ten minutes passed in silence, aside from the occasional grumble coming from the bulky man you were rapidly falling in love with.
You finally dropped down the magazine next to you and put down your wine.
"Would you just let me help?", you asked, standing in front of him.
"I don't need-"
"Yes, you fucking do! Stop being so damn stubborn, Sy! It's not a sin to look at the manual! It's what it's fucking there for!", you finally snapped.
Sy looked at you with an unreadable expression on his face. He straightened himself, towering over you.
"You don't scare me, big guy", you dared, crossing your arms.
He raised his brow, tilting back his head a tiny bit as he peered down at you.
"Alright", his voice was calm and collected. A beat of silence passed and the tension could be cut with a knife.
You were starting to get a little confused, not entirely sure what the vibe was anymore but then, without an ounce of effort, Sy picked you up and swung you over his beefy shoulder.
"Sy! What the hell are you doing? Logan??"
A squeal left your throat when you were dropped down on your mattress. You barely had any time to process what was happening before Sy was on top of you, pinning your arms above your head as his body covered yours.
"You and that damn mouth of yours", he groaned, "always running ain't it? See what happens when you poke a bear?"
"He finally wants to taste his honey?" you spoke softly.
"Oh, honey, you have no idea", he said before he captured your lips with his.
You tried to wriggle your hands free to touch him, but he wouldn't budge, chuckling into your mouth as he felt you struggle.
"What have I told you about asking for what you want, hmm?"
"Sy, please...", you started begging.
'Please what? Use your words"
"C'mon....just lemme touch you, Sy, s'not funny anymore...", you whined, desperately trying to get closer to him, but you were no match for his strength.
Admittedly, feeling how much bigger and stronger than you he was made you drip right through your panties, but that didn't mean you weren't still desperate to get your hands on him.
Sy finally took pity on you and released your wrists. Your hands immediately clawed at his back, trying to pull him impossibly closer as you pulled him in for another breathtaking kiss. One of his big hands semi-gently held your cheek while the other pawed at your body, wherever he could.
It didn't take long before clothes went flying, both yours and his. The sound of his belt unbuckling ran in your ears as your blood pumped faster.
"Fuck, I want you so bad...", you mumbled under your breath, your eyes raking over his furry chest before landing on the tent in his boxers.
"I want you too, baby, so so bad". Blood rushed to your face at the realization that he had heard you. He still had a grin on his face, but this time it was different. Less mean, more dopey.
"Wanna taste you...", he mumbled as he pressed kisses between your breasts and down your stomach.
"Fuck, Sy..."
The first lick between your sticky folds already had him moaning into your pussy. "Sweetest honey I've ever fucking tasted...", he groaned before burying his face back in between your legs.
He ate you out with vigor, swiping his tongue around your clit just enough to drive you crazy before dipping it down to lick long stripes up and down your slit. With all the pent-up tension (and Sy's insane cunnilingus skills), it didn't take long at all before you felt that familiar heat pool down in your belly.
You arched your back off the bed, one hand digging into Sy's scalp as the other frantically grabbed at your pillow.
"Oh fuck, fuck...", you moaned as you felt yourself starting to creep closer to the edge. Sy focussed his full attention solely on your clit now, sucking and nibbling on it while he pressed two of his thick fingers inside you. He curled them up, finding your spot almost immediately and you screamed.
"AH shit! Please please please, don't stop...m'gonna cum!”, you babbled with an unsteady voice.
Usually you don't like to tell your partner when you're about to cum, because for some reason they always seemed to take that as a sign to start doing completely different shit, but you trusted Sy. He clearly knew what he was doing, and to your delight, he kept doing it exactly like that until your thighs were trembling on his shoulders.
You felt the waves of your orgasm roll through your body, your hips mimicking the movement as you bucked against his face. He didn't seem to mind one bit.
He kept his fingers inside you, perfectly stimulating the spongy spot they were nestled against while his lips nursed on your swollen clit, prolonging your orgasm.
Your entire body felt like it was on fire as you waited for Sy to stop, so you could finally breathe again. But to your surprise, the big beast between your legs didn't even show signs of slowing down.
"S-Sy...fuck fuck stop...stop stop stop...", you tried to squirm away from the sensitive feeling, but he kept you firmly in his grip.
"fuck..shit..sensitive...too sensitive..Sy, FUCK!" you moaned when the pain suddenly turned into overwhelming pleasure. The only thing you could do was scream for him. With every knock of his fingers against your spot you felt a pressure build, and when his strong arm pressed down harder on your belly, you swore your vision went white.
You wailed as you came again in a manner that could only be described as violent. Tears streamed down your cheeks as you felt yourself gush all over Sy's mouth and fingers. Your brain was too fuzzy to be embarrassed about it. He helped you ride out the last waves of your orgasm before he finally let up.
"Fucking hell...", he spoke up first. Your eyes blinked open and you sat up a bit to look at him. You were still finding the right words, trying to piece your brain back together, and then you saw it. The drops in Sy's beard, the wet spot on the mattress...oh my god...no no no no no.
It was as if Sy could read your mind, either that or the horrified look on your face was more obvious than you thought it was.
"That was the hottest thing I've ever seen in my entire life", he stated.
"Really?"
"Absolutely", he promised.
You looked at the twinkle in his eyes and you knew he wasn't lying. God damn, where has this man been all your life. Before you could stop yourself, you pulled him forward by the neck and smashed your lips against his, not caring one bit about the wetness of his beard.
He groaned when you pushed him back on the bed. "My turn", you grinned as you straddled him. You gave him one last peck before peppering kisses on his neck and across his chest.
"Fuck, honey...", he mumbled, gently moving your hair out of your face and keeping a gentle hold of it.
You finally shimmied down his boxers. His cock sprung free. Hard, throbbing, and all yours. You grabbed him by the base and pressed a few teasing kisses along the length of him before licking up a stripe and finally taking the head in your mouth.
A low rumble could be heard deep in his chest as you took him deeper, determined to fit him entirely. To your disappointment, you started gagging when he was barely halfway. You wanted to try again, but Sy gently tugged on your hair. "Not necessary, sweetheart"
"But I wanna make you feel good", you pouted.
"You are, feels so good princess, doesn't have to be all the way to feel good", he reassured you.
You took him in your mouth again and gently bobbed your head up and down, glancing up at him to see his eyes droop. You would have kept going for hours if it meant getting to see him like this. Sadly, he pulled you off his dick way too soon for your liking.
"Wha-but you haven't cum yet!", you whined.
"That's 'cause I'm gonna cum in this pretty pussy.", he stated before flipping you over, leaving him on top of you once again.
"Been wanting to fuck you for so long, you know that? Always skipping around in those damn skirts, teasing me...", he kissed you before you could reply. His rough hands traced about your body, squeezing and kneading at your flesh wherever he could.
You let your knees fall open next to his thighs, opening up for him. When the tip of his cock pressed against your entrance, your breath hitched in anticipation.
"You okay, baby?" he asked when he noticed your sudden nervousness.
"Yeah..."
"That doesn't sound very convincing", Sy spoke, sitting up a little. "We don't have to go any further, you know that right? I'm perfectly content just arguing with you over a bookshelf", he grinned and you felt yourself relax.
You gave him a sweet smile and tugged him down for a kiss. The kiss was slow and meaningful, different than before. When he pulled back, Sy's eyes found yours, "What's going on, hmm?" he asked, his tone calm and caring.
"Just been a while...", you stated shyly.
"Been a while for me too, honey, a long while", he admitted.
"How long?", you asked curiously, making him chuckle. "Seven months.", he replied, "and I can wait another seven if you want me to." It was your turn to chuckle, "Luckily, I don't want you to", you kissed him again.
"Since Cory's pool party...", you mumbled against his lips.
"Hmm?"
"Cory's pool party, when I first met you. Don't know how long ago that was exactly, but that's how long it's been for me".
Sy stared at you with wide eyes. You couldn't read his expression, but after a few beats, his eyes softened. He leaned in closely, his cock still stiff between your legs.
"Seven months", he whispered, "that's how long that's been."
His words and what they meant hung in the air for a couple seconds and you couldn't figure out what to say, so you settled for, "Fuck me, Sy. Please?"
He grinned and reached in between your trembling bodies to grab his cock, pushing it between your folds. "I'll go slow, sweetheart. Trust me. If I don't, this s'gonna be over real soon".
He slid inside with ease, the stretch was there but bearable. His head dropped to your shoulder when he was fully in, hot breath and scruffy beard tickling your neck. Your legs wrapped around his hips, trying to urge him deeper somehow.
After what seemed like a century (not that you were complaining), he dragged his hips back, sliding almost completely out of you before pushing back in. He repeated his movement a couple times. Your whines turned into moans, getting louder as his thrusts got rougher.
"Fucking hell...best pussy I've ever had", he groaned, pumping into you at a faster pace. He hiked up one of your legs higher over his hip, making him hit inside you deeper while grinding on your still-sensitive clit.
You moaned loudly. Your nails scratched over his biceps and he groaned in your ear. Neither of you was gonna last long and you both knew it.
"Mine", he growled and you almost came on the spot.
"Yours, Sy! Only yours!", you kept babbling while he absolutely destroyed your body, "I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum!"
"Cum for me, baby, fuck..."
Your final orgasm of the night consumed you. "Cumming! I'm cumming...fuck please cum inside me Sy, OH!", you moaned so loud you were sure the neighbors heard you, but you didn't care. Sy grabbed your hips roughly as he chased his own release, following suit before yours was even over.
He looked godly. His hairy chest was all sweaty, head thrown back, eyes squeezed shut...you swore you got another tiny orgasm just looking at him and feeling his cock throb inside you.
"Shit...", he groaned breathlessly, "I swear I usually last longer...", he started but you stopped him right away. "Sy, you made me cum three times in the last 45 minutes. I don't think I would have survived any longer."
He chuckled as he fell on top of you, squishing you in the process. You hummed happily, stroking his back while his cock was still buried deep inside you. You could barely breathe but you didn't care, if this was how you met your end, it seemed like a good way to go.
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calummss · 6 months
Text
dating 90s/00s eminem …
masterlist 𓆩♱𓆪
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kim and hailie don’t exist in this universe
start and development of relationship
i definitely imagine him to take notice of you at one of the underground rap battles roughly 1992/1993
your friend who was interested in going dragged you along one night cause they were really into rap and hip hop
and there you saw him! the one and only marshall marthers destroying every opponent that stood before him
after the battles came to an end you were already attracted to him and tried to get to him to talk to him
here’s how i think it would go:
‘hey, i just wanted to tell you that you absolutely killed it on stage. it’s my first time here so i lack certain knowledge but i know enough to know that you have an incredible talent’
‘thank you. your first time? what’s your name?’
‘y/n’
‘eminem. marshall mathers’
i imagine you to awkwardly shake hands. like i know you’re in the detroit underground scene but neither of you knew how to proceed
‘i hope this won’t be a shot in the dark but can i give you my number?’ your mind literally racing
‘sure, i’ll give you a call if i’m interested’
THIS MAN TURNS AROUND AND DIALS YOUR NUMBER AND LETS YOU ANSWER!! turning around with a smirk and just straight up low key flirting with you
he was embarrassed to bring you to his home but you eventually just showed up one day cause he wasn’t returning calls—you reassured him that you didn’t care and let slip that you loved him no matter what
marshall was definitely a bit overwhelmed at first and took him like a minute to snap out of his trance because it was most likely the first time he truly felt loved, appreciated and cared for
you supported him and his music until he was eventually signed
everyone was confused why you stayed with a man who wrote violent lyrics especially about his wife so you had to explain over and over again that the wife was fictional
and everyone that truly knew marshall knew that he would never lay a hand on you. he would rather d!e than hurt you
three years after you meet you become pregnant and were scared he was going to leave (news flash he didn’t)
he reassured you that if you wanted to keep the baby that you two would figure it out and that he would and could never ever leave your side
you married quick and definitely rushed it but it proved to be the best decision you made including keeping the baby
this lead to the birth of your beautiful daughter—for some reason the name romy jane won’t leave my mind so i’ll just leave it at that
anyway you blink and stardom surrounds marshall
a few hiccups occurred during the relationship but nothing major and you always managed to talk things trough
what the relationship would include
his hand would alway be on your waist! no matter if you’re on his lap, standing next to him or whatever, his hand will be at its rightful place
i believe he prefers cheek and jaw kisses. he loves a good forehead kiss and hand kiss when he’s emotional and talking to you about certain struggles
speaking of struggles; he would always and i mean always put on his strong persona for you but sometimes his walls would crumble and would cry into your shoulder holding you so tight like you’re about to slip from his grasp
you would make appearances in a few music videos
he would also prefer to be in the studio alone but brings you along when all demos are done to get your opinion because he values it a lot (low key more than dres)
of course you would be his main inspiration for a lot of songs, also you daughter, because he admires both of you so much
marshall is 100% a very jealous and possessive man. not overbearing but maybe a little more intense than the average man? he trusts you fully but not others. he doesn’t forbid you of anything but will always say and do stuff to let others know that you’re off limits
i imagine after you got married he got a tattoo of your face or name on his chest like right over his heart
likes holding hands in public and an occasional kiss but nothing more. he prefers his affection to be reserved for only you and not the world
ONLY refers to you as ‘my girl’. when he’s with friends he’d say stuff like ‘yo, where is my girl?’. and others would also refer to you as ‘his girl’. at one point you just got the nickname ‘slim’s girl’ or ‘shady’s girl’ depending on which you prefer
tries to keep you away from hollywood and only goes for recordings, shows etc. when he’s done you both leave for detroit to lead a somewhat quiet life
definitely will buy you a lot of gifts. sometimes expensive or cheap; something that reminds him of you or something he knows you want. he just feels like showering you with gifts. his love language is giving gifts or acts of service. he will watch your favourite show just because you like it
em will always thank you in his speeches!! something along the lines of ‘first of all thank you to dr. dre and my two beautiful girls who i love with my entire heart. you two are my world, i love you!’
but like you don’t understand he will always thank you. he could win a life time supply of soap and he would say your name with pride…he’s just so grateful to have you and to be able to call you family
would hold your bag/bags for you. marshall gives you princess treatment without realising bc he genuinely wants to do it. he will snatch those bags out of your hands before you can protest
when other artists or people take your name or your daughter’s name into their mouths with negative connotations you best believe em will rip them apart, so most people will never attack you or romy bc it’s a death sentence
people can call him lame, bad rapper, ugly, whatever they feel like but as soon as anyone mentions a hair on you or romy’s bodies…it’s over. careers are shredded…you love it though
if you are a girl who likes to get her nails done this is for you; at first you started asking him to choose a design and colour and at first he was confused but he learned to love it especially when you scratched his head or your hands around his yknow what…he even once tried to design some and you got it done
the sex is a mix of mildy rough and vanilla. sometimes you both need something a little more “agressive” but he also needs a calm session. i see it kind as a light switch: it’s either rough or vanilla, occasionally you mix it but it turns out one way or another
also the man is a sucker (pun) for head. like he loves your mouth on him. i genuinely believes it’s in his top 2 favourite sexual activities (don’t deny it i’m right)
extra: if you love marshall right and you two work, it will be both of yours best love, but if things don’t work they can quickly turn into a relationship from hell
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