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pprodsuga · 7 months

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i’m serious about you

summary: gojo realizes just how much he likes you when you go on your first date

note: feeling a bit soft for gojo rn so pls enjoy this little scenario…it’s 2am and i just wanna write something before i go to bed <3 gojo is probably a little ooc but this is my blog so!!!

i’m a lil rusty when ur comes to writing fics but i hope u enjoy!

warnings: fluff fluff fluff + she/her pronouns

masterlist :)

“I’m surprised this place is open so late.”

You mutter absentmindedly as you look at the pastries behind the glass, face at a respectable distance while Gojo stands beside you. He leans down to see what you see, his own eye catching the chocolate cake sitting on the top shelf.

“Nanami told me about it a while ago,” he explains. “Says he likes to come here when he can’t sleep since they’re open so late.”

“Do you like this bakery?”

Gojo watches as you pick and choose which pastries you want to try. The girl behind the counter lifts her gaze to him, eyes widening before averting her gaze to the small box in her hands.

“Haven’t tried it, actually,” Gojo says. He rubs the back of his neck when you turn around. “I, uh, wanted to wait. To try it with you, I mean.”

He sees your mouth morph into a shy smile and he can’t help but return it. Gojo turns and orders a beverage from the cashier, watching as her fingers fumble with the buttons before she relays the bill.

You’re about to pull out your wallet when Gojo reacts quicker than you can comprehend. You watch as he gives his credit card to the cashier without batting an eyelash. He laughs when you huff and grumble about being able to pay for the pastries since he paid for dinner, but he bumps his hips with yours and tells you it‘s on him.

You look so perfect under the awful fluorescent lights in your best dress and hair let down. He’s not used to seeing you like this; so carefree without your worries tucked away in that pretty little head of yours.

Gojo used to think he’d make it through life without relying on anyone and that he couldn’t count on other people for his own source of happiness and companionship. But he can’t deny there’s something about you that tugs at his heart strings a bit too aggressively.

This feeling follows him to the morning prior, when he asked you to accompany him to dinner. Gojo had guessed that you liked him more than you let on but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t feel the same. This new sensation in the pit of his stomach travels with him tonight, especially when he takes a step back to fully absorb the way you look in his jacket. It dwarfs your shorter stature yet Gojo thinks it was made for you to wear.

The girl behind the counter turns around to finish the order, leaving the two of you to your wits for the time being. Gojo senses that this—casual dating or otherwise—isn’t something you do often. He silently thanks Shoko for drilling him about you (likes, dislikes, who you are as a person aside from the so-called friend group you two belong in) because he sees your finger tapping against the side of your leg and decides to make a move.

“I really like spending time with you,” Gojo starts. “I could do this again and again if you let me.”

“Really?” you ask, sounding something akin to disbelief. Your dress follows your movements as you turn around but all Gojo can focus on is the way your cheeks begin to blush. How cute.

He takes a step forward, nodding. “Believe it or not, I really enjoy spending all of my money on cute girls.”

“Is that so?“ you ask with an uptick in your voice. “Wonder if I’m the cutest, then.”

Gojo knows you’re joking by the way you’re smiling at him, but he wants to set the record straight.

“You are,” he says, “because you’re the only one.”

A soft sound distracts the two of you and he looks past your shoulder to see the cashier has set his beverage on the counter. Gojo thanks her and grabs the cup when he notices notices she’s written her phone number on the back of the surface. His stomach drops when he sees your eyes linger on the penmanship.

He panics.

“I must be special.”

Your voice lacks the humor from moments prior, eyes glazing over the written numbers while Gojo pathetically stands like he’s a frozen statue. He doesn’t know why he cares what you think of him nor why he wants to disprove the theory that he can’t settle down because of an innate need to flirt with everything that breathes. He watches you swallow and avert your gaze to the exit sign when he nods furiously.

“Yeah, you are.”

Gojo throws the beverage in the trash can beside him and cups your jaw in both of his hands to pull you into a tender kiss in the middle of a poorly lit bakery with two other patrons. He thinks your lips taste like coconut and sugar, so soft that he could keep his mouth on you forever and never complain.

He must be doing something right because you’re kissing him back.

You pull away first and he laughs at your flustered state, leaning in to press another quick kiss to your lips before you can escape him. He pays no mind to the girl who walks into the back room.

“I’ll spend however long it takes to make you understand that I’m serious about you,” Gojo promises.

“You better send Nanami a thank you card.” You grab the box of pastries. “Taking me here was a good start.”

Yeah, he thinks. She’s the one.

#gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo x oc #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk x oc #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x oc #gojo satoru x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo satoru fluff #ahhh it’s been so long since i’ve written fanfics and it’s 2am #very sorry for any poor writing choices #but i hope you liked it!#<3 #my writing

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luveline · 2 months

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I love love LOVE the writing you've done for Spencer Reid!!! I'm practically living off of it at this point. I was thinking since we All love Spencer wearing glasses, what if the roles were reversed and HE was the one getting flustered after seeing reader in glasses for the first time?

thank u!!

“Where is she?”

Spencer doesn’t have to look to guess what ‘she’ Morgan is wondering after. “She texted. She woke up late.”

“Late? Is that BAU approved?” Morgan asks.

“I think her phone is broken.”

Emily shakes a hair tie down her hand. Morgan holds her compact mirror open for her. “She’s not the only one running late. I swear the night gets shorter every time I fall sleep.” She wrinkles her nose, collecting her hair into one hand behind her head, wrapping her tie around in an impressive, painful looking ponytail. Morgan passes her a comb. She neatens up her bangs.

Spencer’s head finally lifts at the sound of your hasty entrance and following apologies, “I’m sorry, shit, oh, sorry. I’m really sorry, Anderson, I’ll make it up to you,” you say, hidden behind Anderson’s tall stature.

“That’s okay, L/N. Hey, what’s with the glasses?”

Spencer squints, willing Anderson to move out of the way. “It’s a long story,” you say, shuffling past Anderson to hurry to the front of the bullpen. Spencer locks onto your face,. His hands fall into his lap.

You’re wearing clear-rimmed glasses with metal legs that slip down your nose the closer you get, your makeup lighter than usual, and your clothes a repeat of what you wore yesterday, though he’s probably the only person who’d notice. He barely gives your rumpled blouse a second glance, too distracted by your hand, your fingers as you push the glasses up the bridge of your nose. “Is Hotch in yet?” you ask hopefully.

“He’s been here since five,” Morgan tells you, double-taking when he spots your new accessory. “Oh my god, you’re adorable.”

You raise a hand between you both to hide your face from his view.

Spencer gets out of his chair. “I was really hoping he’d be late too,” you say, turning to Spencer with a gentle pout. “It’s like wishing to win the lottery, I guess.”

Holy shit. He’s breaking a sweat. There’s heat gathering at the base of his neck, worse when you push the glasses up again, your eyes shiny and wide-pupiled behind them. “You’re wearing glasses,” Spencer says.

“Oh, I know, I kept that secret, huh? My left contact got all dried up and I figured I didn’t have time to mess around, so you’re forced to suffer me like this.” You put your hand bashfully under your chin, a cherub posing. “I look like an old lady.”

“No you don’t.”

“I do, I look aged.” You put your bag on the floor by his chair and brush your hands down your clothes. “Spencer, it’s hopeless. I look like I slept in it. Maybe my glasses are atrocious enough to distract everyone.”

“They’re not atrocious, you look beautiful.”

He immediately breaks eye contact to stare at your shoulder. Why did I say that? he thinks. Why do I talk so much? Heat fills his cheeks in a matter of seconds, but he holds his breath rather than let it out, totally frozen.

Emily’s laughing as you step forward, hand out to touch his arm. You tilt your head to one side and Jesus, he wasn’t lying, you make his heart stop just looking at you. “You think so?” you ask softly.

You aren’t laughing. Spencer nods, a tight up and down.

Your lips press together in a shy smile.

“They’re both as bad as each other!” Emily whisper-shouts.

“What’s the matter, Reid, cat got your tongue?” Morgan asks.

You push your glasses up your nose again, still smiling to yourself, so Spencer doesn’t mind his humiliation. You don’t call yourself atrocious again. If anything, you glow.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction

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gay-dorito-dust · 6 months

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Domestic fluffy things you say? I’m here to hopefully help with that!

Can we get some cuddling hcs with the Lin Kuei trio? For example are they big on cuddling, favorite cuddle position, how is it like cuddling with them, ext. Just a lil idea I had and thought was cute and simple and classic also I hope you have a better day :)

Tomas Vrbada

Is MASSIVE on cuddling.

He loves it, lives for it, craves it. Cuddling to Tomas is therapeutic and gets his mind off of things that would normally disrupt his ability to get proper sleep.

It helps ground him and redirects his mind to focus on you and how your presence gives him comfort, reassured him of his insecurities and daily stresses, bringing him into a more relaxed state.

His top 3 would have to be;

Honeymoon cuddle

Sweetheart cradle

Good old fashion spooning

They’re all very self explanatory so I ain’t going to go into details. The man just likes holding you okay?

Cuddling either Tomas is bliss. Utter bliss.

He made you forget about everything that had ever concerned you, everything that had caused you pain, fear, anger, despair. He made you believe that everything was alright because you were within his loving embrace and that nothing else should matter.

Even his evened out breathing made you feel calm as it focused your mind onto his breaths, reminding you that lying beneath you was a living, breathing man who’d do anything you could ever possibly ask for and request for nothing in return. Tomas heart was too kind for most people, even you didn’t feel deserving of something so pure and beautiful despite everything he’s seen and done in the past, you were surprised that such a man still exists in this day and age.

So as a solemn vow, you swore to have this every night, not just for you but for Tomas too, where the both of you would be able to shed the worries and daily stresses. Only to eventually forget all about them as you fortified yourselves within the comforting arms of the other; Sleeping more peacefully than either of you had in ages.

Bi-Han

Isn’t massive on cuddling, he doesn’t like anything that might portray him as weak or soft in the slightest.

A mindset he’s developed overtime, repressing any and all childish wants and desires he might’ve had at the earliest convenience. Not wanting any distractions on his road to power. Plus he’s cold in more ways than one because like Kuai Liang, due to his body temperature, it makes something seemingly easy as cuddling difficult all of a sudden.

Even if you did ask hypothetically what his favourite cuddling positions, Bi-Han would probably say ones that requires the least amount of contact on his end:

Back to back - so he can feel that you’re still there.

Back cuddles- you’re the one cuddling up against that broad back of his.

Shoulder to shoulder - same reason as back to back; knowing that you’re still with him.

Cuddling Bi-Han is…something and I don’t mean this negativity but it’s Bi-Han, what else can I say other than cold, rigid, and a little awkward? The man is on guard even in his sleep and cuddling him the way you do doesn’t necessarily help.

Besides that there’s some semblance of companionship when you press your back into his own. It felt as though you had each made a nonverbal pact to have each other’s back in your most vulnerable states; Something that naturally comes with a sense of trust being put in the other and Bi-Han isn’t one to trust blindly.

Cuddling Bi-Han maybe awkward and a little finicky due to the walls this man had put up in order to protect himself from everyone else, he oddly enough made you feel safe, he made you feel guarded and warm, which was weird considering how abnormally cold he was in every possible way. Yet you knew he held honour- or his version of it at least- highly, so you didn’t feel like you’d have to second guess his every actions because that wasn’t the type of man Bi-Han was…

Even though cuddling him was obviously something he wasn’t attuned to, he nonetheless made you feel regarded in his own special way.

Kuai Liang

Kuai Liang runs extremely warm, which could be considered overwhelming or perfect depending on the type of person you are, so whilst he likes contact; he likes to keep it minimal unless told otherwise.

He prioritises your comfortability over his own and understands that his abnormally body heat can be a bit too much at times. Outside of that he’s more than accepting of cuddling.

Kuai Liang’s top 3 favourite cuddling positions would have to be ones that were less on the physical context but unlike Bi-Han, it typically ends up with him cuddling you in some form of him protecting you:

Leg hug- incase you get overwhelmed by his body heat and need space but also wanting to keep touching some part him.

Face to face - this one’s a personal favourite of his because he loves waking up and falling asleep to your face.

Chest rest -the one where your heads on his chest and he’s keeping you in place with his arms.

Cuddling Kuai Liang is warm and secure because when you’re in his arms, feeling his warmth deep into you just as his arms tightened their grip, you’ve never felt more protected in your life then you did in Kuai Liang’s hold.

You never had to worry about being hurt, especially when Kuai Liang was there to shield you from all possible forms of harm; nor the way he always had his back facing towards the door so that if something were to happen then he was able to keep you safe with his body.

It was his duty to protect you, as he would often say whenever you asked him why this was.

You couldn’t act as though his declaration didn’t have your heart melting into a puddle.

So now you just allow his warmth to consume you like a thick, warm, weighted blanket that blocked out any and all cold that threatened to try and get to you; all the while you snuggled closer into him because despite every last part of you touching every last part of him wasn’t enough, you needed to be even closer to him. You wanted your souls to touch and feel the presence of the other but since you physically couldn’t do that, you settled for forehead touches instead. It was just as intimate after all.

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sinswithpleasure · 1 month

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Night-time Play

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Thanks to @iznsfw for beta-ing <3

Inspiration:

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“Unnie—!”

Chaewon can’t hold back her whine when Sakura’s hands glide across her body, right over her ass. The wet heat between her legs only grows when the older girl squeezes the flesh in her palms, over the cloth of Chaewon’s panties.

“Shh, Chaewonnie, you wouldn’t want the others to wake up, would you?” Sakura pulls her group leader closer to her. The younger girl straddles her, hovering just above her lap, knees on either side of her legs. Sakura leans against the headboard of her bed. Both girls are in their underwear, clothes discarded to the side.

The reminder Sakura gives has Chaewon biting her lip to muffle her moans. The younger girl grips her older member’s shoulders as an outlet for her need, and Sakura only giggles.

“So eager, Chaewonnie. Do you need me that badly?”

“Y-Yes, unnie, I do!” Chaewon can’t reply any faster—she wants, no, needs Sakura’s fingers where it matters the most. She needs the older girl to push her panties to the side, shove her long fingers into her pussy, and fuck her until she sees stars. Yet, Sakura doesn’t think the same—she’s taking her time with her leader: teasing her is all she’s doing.

“Patience is a virtue, Chaewonnie. I think you can wait. Can you?”

Sakura’s firm, yet teasing tone leaves Chaewon even wetter. She’s wondering if she should act out, if she should be the brat she is. Maybe Sakura would punish her, spank her. It’s been a while since she’s been mar—“Oh f—Unnie!”

During Chaewon’s distraction, Sakura’s hands roam up from the younger girl’s ass. They’re right over Chaewon’s bra now, and Sakura fondles them in her palm softly before she reaches beneath the cups to touch Chaewon directly. Sakura’s warm hands only add fuel to Chaewon’s lust.

“Unnie, please!” Chaewon opts to act out just a bit more. It might work, after all.

“Shut up, Chaewonnie, or I’ll get dressed and leave.” Sakura gives her a second warning. “I can take care of myself, but you can’t without me, and we both know that.”

Point taken—the last time Chaewon got off without Sakura’s permission, she was forced to edge for a week straight—the worst week of her life.

“Good girl. Now, let unnie take care of you.”

Sakura draws her hands out of Chaewon’s bra. The younger girl almost whimpers at the loss of contact, but she forces herself to keep quiet. Chaewon’s disappointment turns into happiness a second later when the Japanese girl pulls her bra down to expose her bare breasts, her nipples taut in arousal. Sakura wastes no time in taking one into her mouth, eagerly sucking on her leader’s chest and drawing a soft moan from her. Her hands don’t stay idle either—one returns to her ass, and the other plays with Chaewon’s free nipple, which renders the younger girl a whimpering mess.

“God, you sound so good, Chaewonnie…” Sakura giggles as she pulls her lips away from the younger’s slick nipple to give her a soft kiss. “You’re probably so wet for me, hm?”

The younger girl eagerly nods, and Sakura laughs. Chaewon could be so adorable.

“I’m feeling nice today, so…” The hand on Chaewon’s ass slides over to a bare thigh, before Sakura flips it over to cup the younger girl between her legs, over her wet heat. “Mm, you weren’t lying, Chaewonnie. Already so wet for unnie.” Sakura runs a finger right over Chaewon’s clothed slit, her skin damp with arousal. “Such a good girl.”

“Yes, I’m unnie’s good girl!” Chaewon keens at the praise. She loves it when Sakura calls her that.

“And good girls deserve rewards.” Sakura deftly pushes Chaewon’s panties to the side, and the younger girl gasps out loud when she penetrates her with her middle and ring fingers, down to the hilt. “Say thank you, Chaewonnie.”

“Thank you, unnie!” The younger girl half-speaks, half-moans her reply as her older member begins to thrust her fingers into her. She opts not to speak anymore, just focusing on the pleasure she enjoys from the older girl’s fingers as they rub against her slick walls. Sakura begins to increase the tempo of the thrusts, which leaves Chaewon softly moaning over and over. The older girl presses her lips against her younger groupmate to muffle the moans, though the chaste kiss soon turns into anything but—tongues swirl, moans escape from the gaps, and Chaewon is actively grinding her hips down in the air, eager for Sakura to fuck her harder. Sakura’s fingers and palm are covered in slick—the younger girl is always so messy—but she doesn’t mind. Chaewon’s messiness is just one of the things that makes her so hot.

“Unnie, I… I’m getting close already…” A full blush envelopes Chaewon’s face at the admission. She grinds down against Sakura’s fingers, begging for more. “I… I need more, please.”

“More, mm?” Sakura grins. “Sure.”

Chaewon thinks she might’ve bit off more than she could chew when Sakura penetrates her with four fingers. The stretch has her squealing in surprise, which Sakura muffles with another kiss.

“I know you can take it, Chaewonnie. Keep it quiet for me, will you? Good girl.”

Chaewon struggles to keep herself silent—whimpers, moans, and gasps leave her lips as Sakura thrusts her fingers into her hole. The Japanese girl makes sure to rub against her groupmate’s G-spot every time she hilts, the heel of her palm rubbing over Chaewon’s clit as well. The younger girl can’t keep herself still anymore—her hips grinding against Sakura’s palm, fingers going white with how hard she grips the older girl’s shoulders. Sakura knows her girl’s really close now—she’s getting tighter and wetter, her breaths becoming shorter. Immediately, she latches her lips back on Chaewon’s nipple, softly sucking on it for that extra bit of pleasure to push her over the edge.

“Unnie, I… I’m cumming!”

With a shudder, Chaewon’s comes undone under Sakura’s touch. Rushes of slick flow from deep within her all over Sakura’s fingers, staining the older girl’s thighs below her as it drips. She convulses in pleasure as Sakura continues her thrusts, intent on stimulating Chaewon as much as she could take. The older girl grins as she watches, and she offers soft encouragement throughout Chaewon’s high.

“Mhm, that’s right, keep cumming over unnie’s fingers like that, good girl. Drench unnie’s fingers in cum just like that…”

Eventually, Chaewon comes down from her high, and she collapses right on Sakura’s lap, exhausted. The older Japanese girl only grins lustfully when she lifts her cum-drenched hand to Chaewon’s lips with one instruction: “Suck.”

And suck she does—Chaewon cleans her unnie’s hand free of her own cum with her mouth, sucking and licking her juices off thoroughly. Sakura’s praises of “Good girl” keep her going, and when she withdraws her fingers, she guides Chaewon to lie on a dry spot on the bed. Immediately, Sakura’s hands are on her panties, and she draws them off her hips, slowly pulling them off and flinging them aside as she stares at Chaewon’s pretty face.

“You’ve had your fun, Chaewonnie.”

Sakura straddles her younger groupmate’s face, her glistening slit just inches away from Chaewon’s lips. She grins at the breaths of anticipation brushing right against her core as she lowers herself down.

“Now, it’s unnie’s turn.”

#le sserafim smut #izone smut #sakura smut #chaewon smut #izone chaewon smut #izone sakura smut #kpop smut

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cannibalizedyke · 2 years

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coudld you do an eddie munson x gn reader where readers love language is physical touch? they’re always clinging to Eddie’s arms, sitting on his lap and snuggling into him, holding hands, etc. one day someone says something to reader about how they are probably annoying to eddie and their way too clingy so reader tries to stop? hurt/comfort !

YES. YES YES YES.

💗👛💗👛💗👛💗👛💗👛💗👛💗👛💗👛💗👛💗👛💗👛💗

You're sitting on Eddie's lap, looking at his D&D manual as he narrates the events of tonight's campaign. You're not taking any part in the gameplay, you just like to be close to him, and he likes to be close to you.

"Hey, I'm gonna use the restroom real quick," he murmurs in your ear, kissing your cheek.

You nod and get off his lap so he can leave.

"So... does that not piss him off?" says Mike after a moment.

You furrow your brow in confusion. "What?"

"Like... how you're constantly all over him."

"Dude!" Dustin hisses, elbowing him.

"What!?" Mike rubs his side. "It would irritate me."

You shrink into yourself. "Do you really think it bothers him?" you ask, voice small.

The boys' eyes widen. "What?" says Dustin. "No, no no no. He loves you, man, he talks about you all the time."

You bite your lip, still self-conscious.

Mike swallows. "Yeah! Like, I don't know that he would be bothered by it. I just think I would."

Lucas hits his arm. "You are so not helping," he hisses.

You fidget uncomfortably. "Maybe I should just... stop being so clingy."

"No, no no no - "

Dustin shuts his mouth as Eddie enters the room. Your boyfriend senses the tension and smiles in confusion. "Hey guys." He walks over and you slide out of his chair. "Is everything all right?"

"Yep!" says everyone, a little too quickly. You awkwardly take a seat on the sidelines.

Eddie gives you a questioning look. "(Y/N), why are you - "

"Don't worry about me," you say quickly. "Just play your game." You force a smile. "Don't let me distract you."

Eddie gives you one more look, biting his lip, before sighing and continuing with the game.

After everyone leaves Eddie walks over to you. "Hey, are... you okay?"

You look up, eyes wide. "Yeah! Yeah, of course, why wouldn't I be okay?"

Eddie raises an eyebrow. "(Y/N), baby, I can tell when you're lying to me."

You sigh, shoulders slumping. "Fine..." you mumble. "Does it... annoy you when I'm clingy?"

Eddie's face scrunches in confusion. "Clingy? You're not clingy."

"I'm all over you all the time!" you protest. "That's the exact definition of clingy!"

Eddie shakes his head, sitting beside you. "No, it's not. I define clingy as like... an emotional dependence thing. Like if you depended on me for absolutely everything that would be clingy. But you're not like that. You just enjoy physical affection, and guess what?"

"What?" you ask softly.

He leans close and pecks your lips. "I do too," he whispers. He pulls you into his lap and attacks you with kisses.

You shriek with laughter. "Stop, Eddie, that tickles!"

"Oh yeah?" He grins devilishly and kisses you more.

You giggle till you're both out of breath and slump against him.

"Hey," he says softly, "who put that idea in your head?"

You fidget uncomfortably. "Mike. But it was nothing, he didn't mean anything by it. Please don't get mad at him."

He waves you off. "Ignore him. Mike has a big mouth. He doesn't know anything he says."

You laugh a bit. "You really don't mind me being super affectionate?"

He shakes his head. "Not in the slightest. On the contrary, I really, really like it."

You smile. "Good. I really like it too."

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x gn!reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson

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luvring · 4 months

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EASY SWEETNESS

itadori x gn!reader | insecure reader (about your laugh and... what you look like from an angle below? he's lying on your chest and you won't look down at him)

itadori’s a sweetheart without really trying.

maybe it’s just another one of his talents, you wonder—his way of making your heart skip a beat. compliments, gifts, how, with his back turned, his hand could find yours solely from the sound of your voice. it seemed to be as ingrained in him as the raw strength he held, or the recipe to his favourite late night noodles that he made every week; practiced yet somehow innate.

“you’re such a sweet talker, yuuji,” you deflected his compliment once (you had said something about not liking your laugh, and he had called it sweet instead, because there was no bad laugh, especially yours that he always wanted to hear), warmth tingling your face and ears.

“huh?” he tilted his head. “well, i guess so…wait, no? yes? it’s just the truth, though. is it sweet talking if it’s just being honest?”

you can’t help yourself from thinking back to that as he rests on top of you, favourite throw blanket covering the both of you and tucked beneath your feet so you wouldn’t get cold, and a movie you’ve both watched a dozen times plays on the television screen.

it was a comedy—one that yuuji happened to play in the background as he studied but, inevitably, distracted him from it. he told you it stuck with him, and it’s found its way back to viewership every few months when he feels like unwinding.

it was really only a matter of time before you took part too.

you’ve both got lines memorized from the words down to the pace they’re said, even the cut-offs by other characters and the noises playing in the background. you feel the rumble before you hear yuuji’s voice, smushed like his face against your chest, as he acts out the scene.

“hey, you think at some point we’ll have the whole movie memorized?” he asks, moving to look up at you with his chin resting against you.

and the thing about someone resting on your chest is that you have to look down when you speak, and the problem with that is that the angle isn’t all that flattering.

so you smile, eyes fixed on the screen yet not following a single word being said as you become aware of the angle of your head, and what you look like from a few inches away. “maybe. that’d take at least a few more dozen watches though, unless we’re talking active memorization.”

“then what about with active memorization?”

“hm…for you? i’d still say at least a dozen. movies are really long you know?”

“and you?”

“probably the same? like, if it’s just us two, that’s a lot of lines, and i don’t think megumi would be ecstatic to join. nobara, maybe.”

a character begins to yell at another as your fingers come to card through yuuji’s hair—yuuji, whose response seems to be silence until—“babe.”

“hm?”

“why won’t you look at me?”

you snort, fingers pausing so you can gently mess with his hair instead. “i look bad from that angle, yuu.”

and you hope, maybe, he’ll leave it there, move back to the memorization idea, pick the characters he’d act out best. it really isn’t a favourable angle for anyone, so maybe he won’t look much further into the way your lips form a tight smile, or the forced breathy laugh at whatever’s just happened on screen.

“no you don’t,” he says matter-of-factly.

“...yuuji, really—”

“i think you look nice from every angle.” yuuji rests his cheek against you again. and you let your eyes flicker down, just once, just to see him grin as soon as your gazes connect. “i like looking at you from anywhere, but especially here.”

you shoot him a look of disbelief. “that’s your favourite spot to look at me from?”

“well.” he shifts his legs and kicks the blanket a little, untucking it from beneath you. “any spot that’s super close is nice so i can really see you, and do this—”

yuuji grunts a little as he moves up to kiss your cheek, hands finding home beside your head—you can feel him grinning even before he’s moved away to look at you.

“and you say you aren’t a sweet talker,” you murmur, face warm and housing a stupidly lovesick grin.

“hey.” he pouts. “i’m telling you i’m not a sweet talker, it’s just the truth as your boyfriend.”

“sweet talker.”

“i’m sweet and a talker. not a sweet talker.”

“okay, sweetie.” you try to joke and scrunch your nose, the pet name awkward and foreign on your tongue, but yuuji only smiles again in response.

“yeah, that works too. should we start calling each other sweetie now? i think it kind of fits.”

“yuuji—”and you’re convinced he has a talent now, because even as he exaggerates the new term with a sickeningly sweet voice, it manages to roll off his tongue as naturally as every other compliment he’s said to the point that you think maybe you wouldn’t mind him using it—“yeah, sweetie?”

i'm gonna be so fr sweetness looks like a silly word to me rn. specfically when all capitalized...SWEETNESS... girl what is that

#jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #itadori x reader #jujutsu kaisen fluff #itadori fluff #didnt proofread im rawdogging this be kind to me

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floralcyanide · 5 months

Text

― 𝚜𝚘𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝚜𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚗 (nsfw)

⌯ pairing: sub!coriolanus snow / dom!gn!reader ⌯ warnings: smut, unprotected sex, penetrative sex, oral sex (m receiving), nipple torture, cock torture, use of vibrator, use of restraints, anal sex (m receiving), anal fingering (m receiving), overstimulation, crying, aftercare, lack of safeword ⌯ word count: 1.8k ⌯ summary: when your partner is bratty earlier in the day, you ensure he gets the utmost torturous punishment. ⌯ author’s note: I literally wrote this in an hour and a half idk what happened I was probably possessed by the writing demon again kskskssk anyway thanks to @goosita and @virgosjukebox (for being unhinged with me in the gc) as well as @coryosbaby (for writing such tasteful sub!coryo and inspiring me to write a subby man again) I hope ya'll enjoy (: (btw I didn't proofread I just hope and pray it flows okay lolll)

divider credit: @arminsumi | @firefly-graphics | @cafekitsune ⌯ masterlist ⌯ taglist form

this fic has been cross posted to ao3.

ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ʀᴇᴘʀᴏᴅᴜᴄᴇ, ᴏʀ ᴄʟᴀɪᴍ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀs ᴏɴ ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ, ᴀᴏ3, ᴡᴀᴛᴛᴘᴀᴅ, ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴡᴇʙsɪᴛᴇ.

Not once did you think that the image of Coriolanus Snow lying in your bed tied up with blood-red silk restraints and his hardened, desperate cock leaking onto his pretty red lacy underwear would come to fruition. But it has. And the adrenaline rush is coursing through your veins heavier than the fast-growing arousal- your senses heightened when Coriolanus gives his restraints a tug, a whimper leaving his swollen lips. He’s pleading with you with his eyes, usually a cold blue, but now they’re so dark you almost can’t decipher his irises from his pupils. They shine with threatening tears from the dull ache in his abdomen.

You’re perched on Coriolanus’s thighs, tracing along the silk ties around his wrists that are raised above his head. You’re just as desperate in wanting him as he is in wanting you, but Coriolanus has been an impatient brat today, so he will be punished accordingly. Before he can react, you press your palm against his length, making the blonde squirm underneath you.

“Please,” he whispers, his hips jerking up into your hand.

“Please, what? Use your words, Princess,” you continue to palm at his cock through the red panties, the wet spot of precum growing.

“Please touch me,” Coriolanus manages to say, his mouth drying up the more you tease him.

“Good boy,” you smirk, running a finger underneath the waistline of the red underwear, letting it come in contact with Coriolanus’s rock-hard shaft.

Any contact whatsoever at this point would send him reeling, but he fights the urge to cry from lack of direct stimulation. He’s growing impatient but knows what you’re capable of if he tests your patience. You slowly drag the panties down his thighs, lifting yourself from his lap as you push them the rest of the way down his legs with your foot. Coriolanus kicks them off, groaning when his cock slaps his lower stomach. While he was too distracted, trying not to let the sensation of his tip throbbing get to him, you perch back on his thighs, a new contraption to try on him enclosed in your hands. While Coriolanus has his eyes closed, you take the opportunity to attach a clamp to one of his hardened nipples, the burning pinch earning you a yelp of surprise. When you attach the other one, Coriolanus begins breathing heavier than before, almost uncontrollably wiggling beneath you.

“Behave, now,” you warn, leaning over his chest to get close to his face, “Or I’ll bring out another toy.”

Coriolanus shivers, nodding and gritting his teeth as he wills himself to stay still. You stare into his pitiful eyes as you tug on the chain of the clamps lightly. He squeezes his eyes shut, tensing every muscle possible to remain in one place. But with another tug, more or so a yank, the feeling of his nipples being played with makes him jerk his hips again.

“Coryo,” you shake your head, tutting at him, “What did I tell you?”

“‘M sorry,” he pleads, “I won’t do it again, please!”

“I know you won’t,” you say, reaching behind you for your other contraptions, “Let’s see. Which punishment sounds better? A cock ring or a nice vibrator, hmm?”

Coriolanus tries not to glare at you, but he knows his attitude earlier in the day warranted this. He just wants to cum so badly that if he could come out of the silk, he’d take you on this bed like a rabid animal. Instead, he focuses on breathing properly before nodding toward the vibrator.

“Ah, an excellent choice,” you grin, pressing the power button before settling on a lower medium setting.

You guide the wand around Coriolanus’s body, letting it trail around his stomach and hips, just close enough to his desperate cock to piss him off a little. Moving to his thighs, you squeeze the taut muscle there, letting the vibrator move closer to where he wants it. Coriolanus gasps as you glide the wand’s head over his balls, letting it sit there as he whines again.

“Feel good, baby? You like it when I play with you like this?” you tease, letting the vibrator explore the space between his balls and his hole for a moment, making the blonde cry out.

You bite your lip at the raspy sound, torturously moving the vibrator upward until it’s at the base of Coriolanus’s painfully hard length. You pull on the nipple clamp chain again, the sensations of both sensitive areas being toyed with making him begin to tremble.

“I wanna cum s-so bad,” Coriolanus pants, “Please, please, please.”

“I’m not quite finished with you yet, Princess,” you frown, removing the vibrating toy from his cock and turning it off briefly, “Open up.”

Coriolanus obeys and opens his mouth, allowing you to place two fingers on his tongue before closing his lips around you. He groans as he sucks the digits, trying to muster up as much spit as he can to coat them with. When you’re satisfied with how wet your fingers are, you pull them from Coriolanus’s mouth. He doesn’t even need to be asked what to do next as he already spreads his legs open, waiting for you. You reposition yourself so you’re laying on your stomach between high thighs, pressing your cheek into the apex of his right one. You spread his asscheeks only a little, given his legs are as open as they can go. Pressing one fingertip to his asshole, you carefully prod it inside, taking your time not to hurt Coriolanus. He breathes in and out, relaxing into the bed as your digit slowly enters him further. When you’re all the way in, you curl your finger and the blonde moans loudly from above you.

“You’re being such a good boy, Coryo,” you praise, pumping your finger in and out of him tantalizingly, “Taking my fingers so well.”

Coriolanus is grunting as his cock grows harder, a second finger sliding into his hole to stretch him more. When he adjusts, you fuck him with your spit-coated digits, using your other hand to reach up and yank the clamp chain. You simultaneously tug the chain in the same rhythm as you’re finger-fucking Coriolanus’ perfect, tight little asshole. He’s near full-blown tears at this point but is too lost in pleasure to do anything about it. After stretching him out enough, you decide he’s ready for the next part. The sound of the vibrator coming back to life forces Coriolanus out of his pleasure-filled daze. The feeling of your fingers leaving him and his hole gaping around nothing makes him start to actually cry this time.

“You got this, baby. You’re so close to being able to cum, I promise,” you say, stroking the skin of his thighs as you nudge his asshole with the tip of the toy.

It effortlessly slides in, Coriolanus letting out a long, throaty groan as his back arches. For a few moments, you allow him to adjust to the feeling of the vibrator inside him before thrusting it in and out. The moans the blonde is letting out are pornographic, and they only grow louder when you finally, finally, wrap your lips around the tip of his needy cock. Your warm, wet mouth sends Coriolanus into another place. The sensation of the vibrator being turned up higher and the back of your throat hitting his tip almost sends him over the edge. Almost. You sit up, removing your mouth from the blonde’s length before turning around to face away from him. Before Coriolanus can process anything, you lower yourself onto his impossibly hard cock. You’d been prepped beforehand, so he sheathes inside you without a hitch. Slowly gaining a rhythm, you begin bouncing along his length, fucking him with the vibrator at the same time. Coriolanus has now become entirely incoherent- his jaw slack in unbridled pleasure as his brain is clouded with overstimulation. He’s openly crying and moaning as you clench around him, his orgasm begging to be released.

You gasp, his hips managing to buck up enough to hit that sweet spot inside you, “Are you gonna cum for me, Coryo? Think you’ve been punished enough?”

Coriolanus just whines in response, letting himself only be able to thrust into you and grind against the vibrator the best he can. You feel yourself getting close, and with one harsh grip on his balls from you, Coriolanus finally feels the tight band in his stomach snap. A raw, throaty cry of pleasure erupts from his throat as his hips jerk uncontrollably into your tightness, his hot cum spurting inside you. The feeling of him filling you up tips you over the edge, causing you to clench around him with a vice grip, milking him through his almost never-ending orgasm. You help him ride it out by turning the vibration as high as it can go, and you can feel him grow hard inside you again.

“Fuck,” Coriolanus seethes.

Watching him get worked up again makes you pathetically cum one more time, your walls brutally squeezing his cock into another earth-shattering orgasm. Coriolanus gasps for air as you turn off the toy and gently remove it from him. As slowly as possible, you lift off his now softening length before removing the clamps from his chest. Coriolanus’s eyes are closed, tears staining his cheeks. You give him a soft kiss to one of them before untying the silk restraints and running to a nearby closet to retrieve some towels. Quickly turning on the bathtub faucet in the next room, you let the water warm up before plugging the drain and adding some bubble bath to the tub. When you return to the bedroom, Coriolanus is still limp on the mattress, his breathing more steady than before.

“Think you can make it to the tub, love?” you stroke his face, moving some of the sweaty hair from his forehead.

Coriolanus hums, nodding with his eyes still closed. He rubs his palms over them, letting those baby blues flutter open weakly. He lets out a deep exhale before meeting your eyes.

“You alright?” you ask, a little concerned you did too much.

“I’m fine,” Coriolanus mutters, giving you a small smile.

You manage to guide him to the bathtub, letting him settle in the bubbly water with ease. Joining him, you help him clean off. Once the water becomes too cold to handle, the two of you dry off and climb into bed.

“Sorry for being a brat earlier,” Coriolanus says, his face nuzzled into your neck, “It will happen again.”

You chuckle as you wrap your arms around his shoulders, the both of you embracing under the covers, “I know. But I’ll be ready to take care of that attitude next time, too.”

taglist:

@barbaraelaine @devotedly-sassy @nowitsmissing @arzua10 @screamqueenpink

#coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow x you #coriolanus snow x y/n #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus x you #coriolanus x y/n #coriolanus smut #coriolanus snow smut #coriolanus x reader smut #coriolanus snow x reader smut #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #the hunger games #tbosas #floralcyanide writes #tom blyth #tom blyth x reader #tom blyth smut #tom blyth x reader smut

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luvjunie · 6 months

Text

KNEW BETTER — e42!miles x fem!reader

SUMMARY. the alluring pull of a stranger entices you to make a risky decision all too familiar to your last WORD COUNT. 3,754 CONTENTS. miles and reader are in their late teens for realistic purposes, language, brief mention of a kiss, my attempt at an adequate plot and characterizations that actually have substance SONG INSPO. “knew better/forever boy” by ariana grande AUTHOR’S NOTE. i currently have no plans to take this further but inspiration struck and i had to write it lolll

How did you end up here?

Sticking out like a sore thumb on the roof top of a family party that definitely wasn’t yours, though they’d started to feel like it in the last few months. It’s not like your family would be mature enough to come together, put their pride aside for five minutes, and get along the way these people were. And after your parents’ separation became official earlier this year, negotiation was way out of the question. This distraction from the chaos you left back home was more than welcomed.

Your friend’s hand was starting to pale from how hard you were clutching onto it, yet you didn’t notice. The music was loud and a little upbeat for your taste, but you slightly bobbed your head to it anyway, a mindless thing you found yourself doing regardless of whether you could understand the lyrics to the song or not. There's no way you’d be caught dead at a party looking as if you didn’t have at least an ounce of rhythm.

Noticing your nerves, as well as the growing ache of her fingers, your friend Camila turned her head to the side, her silky, chestnut brown tresses flowing over her shoulder when she shouted over the bass of the speakers.

“Don’t be nervous! They’re all real nice, I promise!”

"Camila—" barely hearing what she said, you stopped for a second to give a sweet smile to an older lady who passed you, then softly tugged her arm to get her attention. “Can’t we just, stay in that cute little corner over there with the—“ you paused. “What are those— enchiladas?”

“Empanadas.” She corrected with a lighthearted eyeroll, her Queen’s accent heavy on her tongue. “And no way! I want you to meet everyone.”

"Everyone—wait what?” Your eyes bulged. You probably resembled a looney-tunes character at the moment. “I thought I’d officially met everyone last month at the uhh— the fuckin—“ You made a wafting motion with your hands, as if it’d prompt your brain to get your thoughts out as quickly as the two of you were walking. “The Heritage Month BBQ, thingy?”

This was the first time the doe-eyed girl had stopped to look at you throughout your walk through the venue—like, actually look at you—and of course it was only to laugh at your ridiculous observation. She nearly doubled over.

“Ha!- Yeah, nah. That was a funny joke though.” she giggled. “That was family family. This is family and family friends. So basically, more family. You know that!”

Oh yeah. Makes complete sense. Family didn’t even sound like a word anymore at this point, you thought to yourself as she pulled the both of you to a stop at the drink table.

You and Camila had been friends ever since the second grade. The girl had the prettiest hazel eyes and the longest, shiniest hair you'd ever seen. Since time she’s liked to refer to herself as the “Puerto Rican-Filipina Rapunzel", and though the term she’d come up with was a bit of a mouthful, you’d be lying if you tried to disagree.

She’d waltzed up to your secluded spot at indoor recess in Mrs. Walter’s class, demanded the two of you be friends, and even gave you a pink Hello Kitty sticker to accompany her proposition.

And seeing as you couldn’t remember much before that, you really couldn’t remember a time when Camila wasn’t in your life, either. Protecting you from anyone who might have anything to say about her bestfriend, and always quick to step in front of you and get in someone’s face about it, even if the someone in question was a burly 6’3 football player who had to crane his neck to look down at who was cursing him out a mile a minute.

If people saw Camila, they saw you, too. That’s just how the two of you rolled. And yeah, you’d been to more than a few family parties, slapped on some low-waisted, bejeweled miss-me jeans and boots to fit in with the dress code, and attended a few bailes even though you couldn’t dance for shit. But you’d never been to a gathering of theirs that was this large. What was the occasion?

As you watched her scoop a ladle of some sort of homemade drink mix into a red solo cup, you realized you’d unintentionally asked the question in your head.

“So, what’s the big occasion?” You took in your surroundings, noting how happy everyone looked.

“Ah, my aunt finished her M.D program, or somethin’ like that. Basically, she’s gonna be a real big doctor soon, so you know we had to party. My cousin invited me."

“Mm,” you nodded stalely, accepting the cup she quickly pushed into your hand before she went to pour another for herself.

“Speaking of my cousin…”

There was a mischievous glint in Camila’s eyes. Was mischevious the right word? Maybe excited, but either way, you didn’t like it one bit.

Mid sip, you slowly lowered your drink from your lips, eyes narrowing at her in suspicion.

“Camila Janaé Reyes. What are you plotting?”

“Nothingggg!”

Judging by that tone, it was definitely not nothing.

“I just want you to meet him, that’s all.” Her words drawled as she gave you one of her sickeningly sweet smiles, and you whined like a child who’d just been asked to put a coat on before leaving the house.

“Seriously, ‘Mila? That’s why you invited me?”

“No! Well… Kinda?” she grimaced.

Your bestfriend could be quite persistent, especially with specific things others didn’t want her to be persistent with. Every human on this earth had a trait that irritated someone or made them slightly less favorable, and of course, that trait is almost impossible to recognize in yourself.

This—the overbearing persistence, the thinking that she knew better for everyone than they did themselves—was Camila’s, and it irked you to your core like no other.

“Camila, I told you, no boys. I don’t even think I have it in me after..." The rest of the sentence died on your tongue as your hand came up to pinch the bridge of your nose, prompting Camila to give you a knowing head nod. With her, you didn’t even have to finish the thought.

“I know, I know,” she said. “But his mom’s been a little worried about how quiet he’s gotten and asked if I could bring someone for him to talk to. So, I thought maybe you guys could be friends or something. That’s it! He don’t got many, and you—well…”

You almost cracked a smile at that, even though you were still annoyed with her. “Don’t finish that sentence.”

You somehow found it in you to let your guard down a bit, which, in theory, would probably come back to bite you in the ass later. You just didn’t know how soon that would be the case.

Your shoulders slumped, a telltale sign of you ready to throw in the towel, just this once like you always did. Camila was already getting excited.

“Alright, alright. Who’s your cousin?”

The petite girl rolled her lips inward to bite back a wide grin, and instead of answering you, she slid beside you and slunk her arm around your shoulders. Her neck stretched for a second as she scanned the lively gathering, her eyes widening once she found who she was scouting for.

She gestured with her chin, not wanting to make it obvious.

“See that guy by himself over there? Like, six foot two, wide shoulders, lowkey thinks he’s Batman, kinda gotta mug on him? He’s nice though, swear. When he wants to be.”

You squinted into the distance. “Uhh… I think that’s a woman, ‘Mila.”

She gasped at that, shoving your shoulder hard enough to almost make you stumble. “No not my Tia Beatriz, you bitch!”

“Oh shit—“

A laugh tore through your apology before you could stop it, and the girl next to you made a sound with her throat that was clearly her trying to hold back her own laughter.

"Idiota," she mumbled.

Two hands clamped down on your shoulders before you felt your body shift to the side a bit, someone else coming into view once your perspective changed.

“I’m talkin’bout him.”

The last time you could recall your heart dropping into your ass at this same rate was when your mom caught you trying to stuff your bra in the sixth grade before the bus arrived. And somehow, that feeling still wasn’t comparable to this.

This—this was much different.

“Y’see him?”

How could you not?

A little ways down, casually leaned back on an elbow at the tall edge of the roof, stood a lanky-looking, brownskinned boy who was far too handsome for his own good. Clad in a fitted black shirt and a cropped leather jacket, you could tell that piece of clothing alone cost more than your entire outfit. He was rocking some straight-legged, black cargo pants and a pair of Air Jordan 1’s you’d never seen before. There was a jaded look plastered on his face, and something about his body language led you to believe that he was forcing himself to be here.

You swallowed,

“That’s your cousin?”

Camila’s insanely, good looking, cousin, if you hadn’t mentioned that already. Not even her older brother was this fine. This boy put the childish crush you had on Luis to absolute shame.

“Mm-hm.”

Your gaze alternated back and forth between her and the boy in the distance. "But, you guys don’t—“

“Yeah, yeah, I know. We get that a lot, big family.” She waved you off, probably having heard this a million times.

Her posture suddenly straightened with newfound determination, and it made your heart jump.

“Well, what are we just standin’ here for? Let’s go-“

“Nope. Nuh uh.”

Camila’s head recoiled when she raised a questioning brow at you. “Fuck you mean ‘nuh uh’?”

You balked at her as if the answer were obvious.

“I am not talking to that man!”

“Well why not?” she asked incredulously.

“Because he is fine as hell, are you crazy? I ain’t got no business goin’ over there.” You don’t know why you were lowering your voice; it’s not like he’d be able to hear you over the music anyway.

But, just by a stroke of luck, he suddenly looked up, probably due to the sweltering heat of your eyes dissecting his entire persona.

“Anddd now he’s looking at me. Oh my god,” you whisked around as casually as you could play off, fingers pressed to your hot forehead as you cursed beneath your breath.

His line of sight was cast in your direction, and though he could’ve been looking right past you, which was simply wishful thinking on your end, that was a chance you absolutely weren’t going to take.

“Yeah, he’s always able to catch people staring. I don't know how he does it… And s’kinda weird now that I think about it…” Camila mumbled distractedly to herself, her pondering eyes drifting skywards. A sharp elbow to her side, yours to be exact, was enough to pull her out of her observation and earn you a pained whine.

“Focus! What do I do now? He probably thinks I’m a creep.” you groaned.

A puff of amused air blew from her nose. “Yeah, I doubt that. He’s a bit of an odd ball himself.”

That definitely did nothing to make you feel better.

“Besides, he don’t bite,"

Your feet weren’t moving on your own accord as you began walking; it was Camila tugging you out of your in-plain sight hiding spot and towards the very boy you were just marveling at.

“I think.” she added.

“Camila, I really don’t think this is a good idea—“

Through the rush of the brief murmur-screamed argument you had with her, the walk over to him was surprisingly much shorter than your brain had estimated it to be. And of course, ever the gentleman with perfect manners, the boy in question clicked his phone off and tucked it away in his front pocket once he saw the both of you approaching him.

Camila put on her sweetest voice, and albeit a bit annoying, her intentions were pure.

“Heyyy, Miles! How are you?”

Miles. That’s a cute name. Or is it only cute because I think he’s cute? Fuck, I’m spacing out, aren’t I?

The light baritone in his voice edged you to believe that it was the latter.

“Hey cous’, I’m straight.”

Miles was talking to Camila, but he was staring dead at you while he did, as if he was purposely trying to send you into a terribly premature fit of cardiac arrest.

He had a solemn look to him; face hardened with faint frown lines that seemed a bit unfitting for his age. The only resemblance these two shared was the striking allure of hazeled eyes and how they were both able to have people lost in them without even trying. There was an energy that radiated from him—something about his presence that you felt a pull towards. It wasn’t intimidating, or brooding, no. It was more on the lines of intoxicating. And it didn’t necessarily make you uncomfortable, per se, but the fact that you couldn’t pinpoint the exact feeling his stare was giving you most definitely did.

It was a known fact that you couldn’t hold eye contact for shit, and an observing Miles easily picked up on that after the third time your eyes had darted back and forth between his own and any random object you could keep your attention on. So, when he finally decided to spare you and directed them towards his chirpy cousin instead, you felt like you could finally breathe again and stole an embarrassingly deep inhale that nearly made you lightheaded.

“So wassup, who’s this?” Miles motioned towards you with a slight tilt of his head, hands nonchalantly planted in the pockets of his jacket.

Now that the focus was off you for a second, you used this to your advantage and took a moment to get a good, close look at him.

Everything about him was clean cut and neat—strategic. From his sharp, tapered hairline that was so precise that not a single strand of hair was out of place, to the tidy twin braids that kissed his shoulders, and even down to his shoes. They were crisp, and looked like he’d taken them right out the box before he came here, but you could tell that wasn’t the case. It was clear from the way he carried himself and the fresh ass silver cuban link hanging round his neck that he simply cared about his appearance enough to keep them that way.

“This,” A subtle, yet intentional squeeze to your right arm brought you back to the conversation. “is Y/n, my bestfriend. I don’t think she’s met you yet, so I just thought I’d introduce the two of you.”

He didn’t even nod. You weren’t even sure if he blinked. All he gave was a vague,

“Mm.”

What the fuck did that mean? Was that a good mm, or a bad mm?

Your ruminating was interrupted when Camila quietly murmured something to Miles that you couldn’t quite make out, her eyes hard in warning.

“Sé amable y no hagas nada estúpido. De verdad.” (Be nice and don’t do anything stupid. For real.)

He kissed his teeth at that, an indistinct irritation lingering in his tone at the latent reprimanding. “Nunca hago nada estúpido.” (I never do anything stupid.)

Brows bunched in confusion, your lashes fluttered in annoyance upon realizing it was their intent to keep you out of the brief exchange.

“Well,” Camila clapped her hands. “I’ll leave y’all kids to it! I need to go grab some of those pinchos before they’re all gone.” Both you and Miles sent an irked look her way when she gave a cheesy thumbs up and dipped.

It was just the two of you now, and since names were already out of the way, you hadn’t the slightest idea of where to start. But the worry didn’t last long; Miles was the first to speak up, which you were more than grateful for.

“So, how you know my cousin again?” His brow peaked. “Don’t think I’ve seen you before.”

Miles was good with faces—excellent, actually. He spent a lot of time people watching; knew most of Brooklyn by now, and he definitely wouldn’t have forgotten a face like yours. So he let his eyes drink you in from head to toe, committing you to memory. And damn, he sure picked a good day to be social.

You tried to focus on your answer instead of the glint of his earrings or the sharp of his jaw when his head turned to the side, so you settled on studying the buildings that lined the magenta-stained skyline in the distance.

“Well, there’s not much to it, really. I met her in the second grade, and she said we were bestfriends now, no questions asked. Guess it’s been that way ever since.” you shrugged.

“Yeah, sounds like her," he chuckled, shifting to rest both his elbows on the ledge as his back leaned against it. “She can be a little—“

“Persistent?” you interjected knowingly, a small smile painting your features.

“Shit, you tellin’ me," he snorted. “I guess that’s a nicer way to put it.”

Miles picked his cup up from where he’d previously set it down and took a swig. So far, this conversation wasn’t nearly as grueling as he’d expected it to be, and shockingly enough, he might’ve even been enjoying your company.

But unknown to you, this wasn’t the first time Miles had been introduced to one of Camila’s friends. He’d met probably three of them at this point, and honestly, he was a little over his cousin trying to throw him a bone he didn’t ask for. Did he entertain them? Possibly, for fun. Though it’s not like he actually enjoyed their presence. But there was something intriguing about you that he didn’t pick up on with the others, and he was starting to wonder what was in this punch.

“Hol’ on,” a curious look crossed his face. “You from Queens, right?”

“Mhm, grew up in the same building as Camila and everything. Why?”

“You’on really sound like it, that’s all.” he noted. Poking at the inside of your cheek with your tongue, you battled with an answer.

“Yeah, I… go back and forth, a lot.” You gave a half-hearted smile, in which he responded to with a simple nod.

Your brows furrowed as a sudden realization dawned on you.

“Y’know, now that I think about it... I don’t think I’ve ever seen you, either. You don’t come around often, do you?”

“Mm,” His lips pushed into an upturned frown—that thing people usually did when someone wasn’t far from being correct. He gave a shadowy answer and changed the subject.

“You could say that. Camila’s brought you to one of these before, I’m guessing?”

“Mm-hm, all the time.” You nodded, swirling around the fizzy liquid in your cup. “I usually chill with the elders, though.”

“Heard that.” Miles understood you completely, the corner of his mouth lifting into a lopsided smile.

Now that you’d had the chance to actually speak with him, he wasn’t nearly as aloof as you’d presumed him to be.

“This your mom’s party?”

“Yes ma'am." he hummed.

You took a quick breath in through your nostrils, and Miles almost laughed at how much one word affected you.

"So..." Your eyes cautiously dragged their way over to him. “Why aren’t you celebrating with everyone else?”

Your tone was careful. Like you already knew your question was personal.

His jaw tensed for a beat and his smile dimmed a little, but he was shrugging and back to his coolheaded mien before you could make any inferences on how your question might’ve made him feel.

“Just like bein’ by my lonely, I guess. Better this way.”

Every human on this earth had a trait that irritated someone or made themselves slightly less favorable, and this was yours. Asking intimate questions too soon, unintentionally trying to uproot information about someone’s life through the innocent curiosity that usually got you into trouble.

“S’ain’t really my kind of vibe anyway." he admitted with a flippant gesture toward the party.

You mindlessly fiddled with the charm bracelet dangling from your wrist.

“And what’s your ‘kind of vibe?’”

It was a genuine question. Honest. You knew his confession came in passing, yet that didn’t deter you from wondering what he was thinking when he said it.

Miles’ aureate gaze floated to your person, and you watched as he studied your features. Eyes flitting between the both of yours, as if he were trying to get a read on you without having to ask.

You relaxed a little when he finally cracked a mirth-kissed grin.

“You just full of questions, huh?” he teased, a glint in his eye.

Somewhere in the midst of this conversation, his body had turned towards yours, and you hadn’t noticed until now that he was facing you completely. You looked to him with the same intensity he gave you and played right back.

“You could say that.”

There were a few seconds of internal struggle, seen in the way he fought to pull his gaze away. Teeth biting at the inside of his cheek like he needed a taste of pain to remind him to behave. But, when he caught sight of the way you were looking at him, that little voice in the deep of his mind wasn’t nearly loud enough for him to listen to it.

Licking at his dry lips, he knew better, but he asked anyway with an appetent tilt of his head.

“You wanna get outta here?”

—

Now how did you end up here?

Party forgotten like an old toy on Christmas morning. A newfound agenda on your mind and a new pair of lips on yours to match.

You knew good and well that the question he asked didn’t entail stepping away from the party to get a breath of clean air; in fact, you were finding it quite difficult to breathe right about now.

Huh, and here you thought he was a gentleman.

And Miles was fully aware that this was probably a bad idea, but when he wanted something, it was as if tunnel vision clouded any chance of better judgement.

Every human on this earth had a trait that irritated someone or made them slightly less favorable, and Miles was not excluded from this verity.

Starting things he knew he wouldn’t finish, was his.

#junie’s works ᥫ᭡#across the spiderverse fanfiction #earth 42 miles morales fanfiction #42 miles morales x reader #miles morales fanfiction #miles morales x reader #earth 42 miles morales x reader #earth 42 miles morales #miles g morales #miles morales x fem!reader #miles morales x you #prowler miles fanfic

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yxami · 8 months

Text

Lawrence part 2, trying to write silly stuff to get my brain started

desc: yandere victim yandere x kidnapper reader, gn reader, male yandere, slight nsfw, is it stockhold syndrome if he was dreaming abt it b4 it happened?

Lawrence:

You cupped Lawrence’s cheek, gliding your hands across his smooth silky skin before he gasps at the soft touch. Unable to move, too anxious to move himself away from his crush, call it stockholm syndrome, manipulation, whatever, but there was no way he would reject your advances after so much anticipation. He’s been waiting too long to pass up on you finally reciprocating his feelings.

Well, what he thought was reciprocating but was actually a tactic to get him talking about when his parents would transfer the 500k into your account.

Something that would never actually happen.

Not with your victim begging his parents to let him stay longer. He had managed to convince his parents that he was fine and that you were his possessive friend who wanted to have a few sleepovers back to back. You wouldn’t have known about him even having a second phone until you saw him tweeting about how hard he’s crushing on someone.

That someone being you. You knew it from day one. You should’ve known having him tied in a chair, being teased for information would only cause this delusional fucker to love you even more. He’s still slightly convinced that you’re just a nervous wreck trying to mask your intentions instead of the reality of him being genuinely kidnapped for ransom.

“Ren, tell me, when are they going to give me the money so I can finally release you?” You rubbed his thigh, trying to pretend you hadn’t seen how tighter his pants looked in the matter of seconds, just ignore the forming dark spot, that’s not important!

“I Mmph- um..” He babbled, voice cracking as he tried to form his words, only for them to come out incoherent with his glassy eyes staring up at you. “I dunno..”

“I know your parents have that kind of money, why aren’t they giving it? Hmm?” You asked once more, wondering what it would take for him to spill the truth, maybe you’d have to actually take it as far as to touch the guy. He seemed excited enough already, judging by how his legs opened up a fraction at you rubbing his inner thighs, as if his body was instinctively revealing itself for you.

“Maybe they’re busy?? Ah— please please” He pleaded, unsure of what he was begging for. It could’ve been asking you to run your hand more across his inner thigh and bulge, or for you to keep speaking to him while he’s in this drunk haze of being addicted to your touch, to you, to everything.

“What would they be busy with? Too busy to think about their dear son? I know you’re spoiled, just look at you” You unintentionally spat your words with slight venom, being envious of what riches he grew up with, so much so that he’d have trouble seeing the struggles you grew up with.

Your fingers firmly wrapped at his jaw, turning his head to see the sides of his face, seeing how the blush poured over every area that you managed to affect.

A surprised whimper escape from his lips, causing him to try to pull his face away, he doesn’t think he can handle anymore teasing, grabbing and you pulling on area you’d like, treating him like he’s yours and only yours to play with. God this is hotter than he expected, a little too much to handle, and yet he still can’t help himself to blurt out stupid things to get you to overwhelm him more than you already have.

He should be chastised for liking this so much, but this was written in every page of his book, getting tied and bound by you, interrogating him with no chance to get away, you might as well propose because he will soon!!

“They’re p-probably distracted with work so.. they haven’t noticed?” Lawrence hates being in-genuine with you, but he has to. He doesn’t want you kicking him out for lying through his teeth about something like this. It’s just a simple switch of the words, you’ll understand soon enough right?

You glanced at his phone, practically teleporting across the room, why didn’t you just search his phone? There was no need for you to be asking him if he just unlocked it!

“Um.. I can’t do that” He pushed his bottom lip out into a contemplating expression, he’s never declined anything you wanted but he has to right now. He doesn’t want you finding out the texts that he sent to his parents, you’d definitely get mad!

“Why?” You glared at him, leaning close so he could see your hatred for his defiance. Especially after he’s been so cooperative with giving you all the information you needed, yet suddenly when it comes to the money and contacting his parents he refuses to?

It makes no sense!

Why wouldn’t he— The realization finally hit you. He’s been telling you answer since the start. He’s in love with you and the idea of being kidnapped, of course he wouldn’t fucking tell his parents. He must’ve said something to them when he had his second phone. This is why they haven’t contacted you in a week!

So what now, you were stuck with this pervert?? You wanted the money but not enough to stay by him for as long as he wanted. Maybe you should find someone else and let him go. How unlucky were you to get this guy as your first victim.

“I’m sorry.. please don’t ignore me” Lawrence whispered out, looking up at you with that familiar look in his eyes. The sight that expressed a love sick look even if you were right in front of him. “I wanna tell you!! But you’ll be upset and I don’t want you to be mad” He whined, leaning towards you with a sorrow filled look.

His looks were convincing, you hated it but his adorable pout and expressions were never feigned!

“You texted them didn’t you? Probably something like you were fine and to not send anything?” You exhaled, no longer in the mood to get mad. You had no clue that was even possible.

“Mm…” He whined, looking at you, then at his hands that anxiously fiddled with each other, his eyes would flicker at you and then to the other. He wasn’t too sure if he should just spill it or not but ultimately he decided to obey. “Yeah.. I’m sorry” His frown increasing with tears that welled up in his eyes, causing them to be more shiny and pitiful than usual.

“God, I don’t know what I’m even gonna do with you, at this point I don’t even think I need you tied up” You mumbled your last sentence, deciding to test it out by untying him. It would probably be better if he ended up faking that he saw this situation in a red heart shaped glasses type of way.

“Huh? You’re untying me? N—No! Please don’t let me go, I don’t want to go back at least not right now” Tears streamed down Ren’s face, clearing showing he wasn’t ready to leave now. He was already on the verge of sobbing as he clung onto you.

You opened your mouth to tell him something along of the lines that you weren’t doing that but you couldn’t help but want to see if he was being real about wanting to stay so badly. Surely it was just a simple scenario that would be crushed once he realized the severity of it?

“Please..? I’m sorry I disobeyed you” His doe eyes forcefully making eyecontact with you, refusing to look away as if you’d punish him for doing so. “Just give me another chance? I swear I’ll be so good for you..” His whiny tone more evident while his bottom lip quivered, sniffling as he kept his arms around you.

“I was just untying you, you can leave if you want but you obviously don’t.. so just do whatever you want” You sort of mumbled, what were you supposed to do after testing him? It’s not like you could call his parents and tell them to pick up their son that refused to leave. He could snitch you out if he was mad enough anyways.

But his infatuated stare that you could feel burning holes in the back of your head said otherwise.

While you stepped up the stairs you were too lost in thought to hear his hesitant steps after yours. He pondering whether to follow you or not but he didn’t want you to leave his sight so he did. Maybe you’d let him roam around the house now, the only time you ‘technically’ let him was when he had to go to the bathroom.

“Um.. I can try cooking and cleaning the house while you work, will that convince you?” Lawrence followed close, on your tail while he wrapped his hands together, he wanted to hold onto you for comfort but grabbed his arm that reached out for you before you notice he tried.

“Convince me how?” You leaned against your kitchen counter, your palms resting right at the edge while your lower back pressed against it too, your calm demeanor only made him more comfortable that you were his kidnapper. If you were someone different, they would’ve never let him up here let alone speak to him like this. In such a friendly yet commanding tone..

“That I’m loyal! I’ll try to convince you that I’m good and how I can provide things for you!” He perked up at the chance to prove himself, you could see his eyes light up because of it. “Um.. but it can’t be money yet because I haven’t gotten my allowance and I don’t think my parents would give me 500k out of nowhere” He had an apologetic demeanor while looking at the floor, hoping his honesty helped with the situation.

You hummed in a approving tone, opening your fridge to look for something to snack on, or brunch if possible. Chinese left overs? Eggs with bacon if you wanted, or instant noodle soup if you weren’t in the mood to cook. Those were the only options that seemed appetizing.

“Can I help cook breakfast?” Lawrence stood behind the fridge door, towering over you while he leaned to see what you were observing. You turned your head up, seeing the unfamiliar sight of him facing down at you instead of the opposite where he’d sit in a chair and stare up.

“Yeah sure, grab a big pan while I get some of the stuff we need” You pointed, a little dazed at trying to get used to this new found roommate, at least for now, until you found a solution.

If only you knew this would be a permanent solution, at least until Lawrence decided to terminate this unspoken contract. You should’ve known it was sealed by the blush on his face after your approval to him proving his worth! Now, he has all the freedom to impress you that he’s a worthy husband roommate!

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tommykinardkink · 6 days

Text

This is a first that Buck has been waiting for with a strange mixture of excitement and trepidation. Because that's what happens when you date someone, right? At some point, if things go well, you'll see them naked.

And it's not like Buck's never seen another cock before, okay? He watches porn, he's been in the locker room at the station or whatever.

But this is different. This isn't just some random dick slip at the gym. It’s Tommy.

And Tommy's really big.

They’re lying pressed together on the too-small couch, Buck half on top of Tommy to accommodate the both of them. The movie they’d been watching is playing softly in the background, both of them having forgotten about it when one heated kiss had turned into two, three, his hands slipping up beneath Tommy’s Henley while Tommy’s fingers toyed with the drawstring of his sweats. And then, in a moment of reckless want, Buck had pulled back enough to free Tommy from the confines of his jeans.

It had seemed like a good idea at the time. Only now, Buck finds that he can't move, throat dry as he stares down at the length of Tommy's cock.

"Evan." He jumps a little when he feels Tommy's fingers thread through his hair, using the gentle grip to force him to meet Tommy's gaze. Tommy's brows are pulled together, lips turned down in a worried frown.

"You know you don't have to do this, right? There’s no rush."

"Yeah, I-I know. I want to." It belatedly occurs to him that maybe Tommy isn't ready for this—he thinks about teeth and suddenly isn't sure he'd want someone with no blowjob experience near his junk either—and he hurriedly begins to back pedal. "Unless you don't want—"

He doesn't get much further than that, Tommy pulling him up further to press a hungry kiss to his parted lips. It's a welcome distraction, and Buck feels his own cock throb in response, his hips thrusting infinitesimally against Tommy's thigh.

But it doesn't get much further than that before Tommy breaks the kiss, resting his forehead against Buck's and breathing heavily.

"There is nothing I want more than to have your hands on me," he says, voice rough.

"Then let me do this for you. Please?"

"Fuck." He watches the way Tommy's throat works before he answers in a shaky voice, "Y-yeah. Okay."

Seeing Tommy look so wrecked when they haven't even started yet bolsters Buck's confidence some as he turns his attention back to Tommy's cock. It's long and so thick. Now probably isn't the best time, but Buck allows himself a moment to study it. The vein running up the length of the shaft, the way the foreskin has pulled back from the sensitive head, his balls hanging full and heavy between his legs...

Buck's mouth waters.

Steeling himself—C'mon, Buck, you rappelled onto a capsized cruise ship from a helicopter in the middle of a hurricane, get it together—he reaches out to take Tommy in hand.

He isn’t sure what he'd been expecting. It's a dick. He's got one of those and he's jerked off plenty. Brow furrowed in concentration, he gave an experimental stroke.

Above him, Tommy hisses. Okay, yeah, that is not encouraging. Buck peeks up at him, only to find Tommy staring at him intensely, his chest already heaving.

Huh.

"You like that?" Buck asks, a teasing grin curving his mouth as he pumps Tommy again, slow and easy.

"Christ, Evan." A muscle in Tommy's jaw jumps and he draws in a deep breath through his nose. "Do that again."

The bite of command in Tommy's voice makes him shiver. He does as he's told despite the awkward angle, his eyes darting between Tommy's expression and the tip of his cock is beaded with precum. Feeling daring, Buck rubs his thumb over the droplet, spreading it out over the sensitive head.

Tommy's hips buck into his hand.

Yeah, this is gonna be fun.

Buck laughs, twisting around to settle himself between Tommy's legs, the shaft only inches away from Buck's mouth. He bites his lip, hesitating, before deciding to just go for it. Holding Tommy's gaze, he leans in to brush a featherlight kiss on the underside of Tommy's cock.

His reaction doesn't disappoint. He curses loudly, hands winding back into Buck's hair and tightening almost to the point of pain. They've only just begun, and already Tommy's control is threatening to fracture.

He's beautiful.

Buck's not feeling brave enough to take Tommy into his mouth, not yet, but it's almost better like this. This way, he gets to watch Tommy's head thrashing against the arm of the couch, see the way his body strains towards the pleasure. Buck jerks Tommy off, rubbing his thumb over the tip of his cock and through the precum accumulating there. With every second, his movements slowly gain confidence as Tommy gets closer to the edge. He categorises the other man's every reaction, filing it all away for the next time they do this.

Jesus, he's already desperate for next time.

"Evan, please, I—"

"What do you need, babe? C'mon, tell me."

But Tommy does something even better. He releases his hold on Buck's hair and reaches down to wrap one hand around Buck's, guiding his movements. Buck's breath catches as Tommy's fingers squeeze his, jerking Tommy's cock harder and rougher and—

"Fuck."

Tommy's body tenses for an endless moment before he breaks. Ropes of cum shoot up Tommy's belly and chest, and a few errant drops land on Buck's face. The sounds he makes as he comes undone, the helpless grunts and shudders that wrack his body are so fucking hot, that Buck has no choice but to get up onto his knees to give himself room to reach for his own cock. Tommy's come slicks the way for Buck's hand as he works the shaft

Tommy stares at him with hazy eyes, lips parted as he tries to catch his breath. Christ, he's so gorgeous like this, utterly debauched with his flushed cheeks and come splattered skin.

And Buck's just going to add to it. It's that thought that tips him over the edge. His orgasm rolls through him, taking his breath away as his own come paints Tommy's abdomen. And all the while, Tommy watches him, dark eyes warm and gentle and hungry for something Buck can't quite put a name to.

His knees give out under him, and he falls forward in a boneless heap, narrowly avoiding elbowing Tommy in the ribs. Tommy lets out a little ooof as he bears Buck's weight.

"Wow," Buck says after a brief, breathless silence.

“Yeah.” Tommy runs a shaky hand up and down his back, and Buck arches into the touch like a cat. He feels his eyes drifting shut, a bone deep satisfaction beginning to lull him to sleep.

“… go shower,” Tommy’s saying from somewhere above him. Buck frowns and burrows closer into his body. It’s gonna take a friggin’ crane to get him to move now.

“Evan.” A quiet sigh. “I know you can hear me.”

“Hng.”

The sound of his laugh makes Buck smile against Tommy’s skin. The hand that had been rubbing his back moves back up into his hair. Buck can’t hold back a shiver at the sensation of Tommy’s nails scratching at his scalp.

“C’mon,” he coaxes. “If you get up now, I’ll even wash your hair for you.”

That gets Buck’s attention. He lifts his head to squint at Tommy.

“Promise?”

Tommy’s smile makes his nose scrunch up and his eyes crinkle at the corners. It’s an expression that never fails to give Buck butterflies.

“Yeah, sweetheart, I promise.”

#i had fun with this #evan buckley #tommy kinard #bucktommy #bucktommy fic #911 abc #my writing

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lesbianpepsi · 10 months

Text

Fuck it I love you

pairing: sam carpenter x fem!reader

summary: When paired with Tara Carpenter for a project you were expecting a B or maybe even an A. Not falling in love with Tara's older sister, Sam.

series masterlist

words: 2.320k

warnings: mean sam, light swearing, reader being down bad for our sammy, bad writing

authors note: alright my darlings the first chapter to the sam mini series as promised. the wonderful anon who requested this, my dear i am so sorry it took so long for me to get to this. although it's taken a while, i do hope you still enjoy this! feedback and comments are greatly appreciated:)

The wonders of college.

You get to meet new people, explore your sexuality, party like there’s no tomorrow, try new things and staying up till three in the morning crying over a piece of work that’s due that very morning that you decided to wait till the last minute to do only to instantly regret it, saying you’ll never do the same mistake next time but knowing deep down inside you will.

And of course the trials and tribulations of group projects. Something everyone loathed, and if anyone said otherwise they’re lying.

You have never been a fan of group projects; so when your professor announced that you’ll be doing a pair project you couldn’t tell if you wanted to slap him or cry. Probably both. The absolute worst thing about projects that involve more than one party member is awkwardly asking a stranger if they’re willing to work with you.

That’s why when you heard that familiar sweet voice speak to you, you couldn’t help but smile.

“You cool with doing this together?” Tara Carpenter asked you with a nervous smile.

You and Tara aren’t exactly friends, more like acquaintances; if one missed a presentation the other would give them their notes to copy off of, saving a seat next to each other, saying hello if you ever see each other around campus.

It isn’t the fact you don’t want to be friends with Tara, she seems like a really kind woman but she’s quite distant and quiet. You can’t judge her or shame her for it since you’re shy, awkward and always in a state of anxiety.

Maybe this would be the push to make you and Tara become friends.

You smile at the brunette with an appreciative gleam in your eyes. “Please. I was already planning a speech on why the professor should allow me to do this alone.” Tara laughs, covering her mouth with her hand as the corner of her eyes crinkled with delight.

“Lucky for me then.” Tara stays silent for a few moments before she added. “Do you wanna just get the whole awkward phone exchange now?”

You chuckled, nodding your head as you dug out your phone from the pocket of your hoodie, unlocking it and passing it over to her. Tara stares between and your phone almost bewildered with the fact you just passed your phone over to her without hesitation, rather than just saying your number.

She slowly takes your phone and adds her phone number into your contacts texting herself before passing it back to you. You smiled at her as you pocketed your phone back into its original space of your pocket.

___________

A few days have passed ever since you and Tara exchanged phone numbers but no plans had been made on when you two should start. You refused to leave this till the last second like you’ve done so many times before, swallowing your nerves you unlock your phone and send Tara a message.

Me (11:32am): hey tara it’s y/n from class, i was wondering what day we can meet to start our project. i was thinking we could meet in the library whenever you can :)

Instantly you shut your phone off after the message is delivered; there always has been something so weirdly intimidating about messaging someone you don’t really know. Deciding to distract yourself you go make yourself a sandwich for lunch, leaving your phone in your room.

After two episodes of New Girl and a delicious sandwich had been eaten you returned to your room in search of your phone. Flopping down on your bed you grab your phone and see Tara has messaged you back.

Tara (12:15pm): hi y/n:) if you’re free we can meet today to get started on our project? the only issue is that i can’t come to the library

Me (12:23pm): im more than good with today!! :D

Me (12:23pm): do you wanna come over to my apartment then??

Tara (12:24pm): actually is it alright if you come over to my apartment, around half two?

Me (12:24pm): yeah idm, just as long as we start it lol. where do you live?

Tara (12:28pm): the apartment complex near Blackmore, apartment number 56

Me (12:28pm): okie dokie, see you soon :D

Tara (12:29pm): 😊👍

You grinned to yourself slightly proud you’ve decided to be smart and start this project early. You just hoped the actual planning of the project would go just as smoothly.

___________

At two you decided to leave your apartment, wearing a simple white shirt along with some mom jeans. Not even ten minutes into your walk it began pouring down with rain, leaving you sprinting towards the complex as your heavy backpack hit your bag with every step.

Slamming the double door entrance to the apartment complex open, you instantly gasp for breath as water drips off of every part of you.

How fucking typical.

You pull out your phone and with wet fingers you send Tara a quick message before slowly starting to walk up the stairs.

By the second floor you started to get tired, by the third you began wondering why the fuck there isn’t an elevator in this place, by the fourth you’re questioning your life choices and by the time you arrive on the fifth floor you’re breathing like a life long smoker who just ran towards the store after noticing they’re out of cigarettes.

Like a zombie you walk over to the apartment door with the number ‘56’ on it, sluggishly you raise your hand and knock on the door two times.

After a painstakingly long time a woman answers the door, and you’re pretty sure your heart explodes at the sight of her.

She’s got olive skin that looks so irresistibly smooth, dark brown eyes that glared at you, she’s around the same height of you if not maybe a bit taller. She’s leaning against the door frame as she’s only opened the door a small amount so her figure could be shown.

Her lips are pulled in a tight straight line as her arms crossed over her stomach, the tight grey vest top she’s wearing showing off her impressive biceps. She’s glaring at you with her cold eyes as she glowers down at you.

“Who are you?” She asks in a voice that is ever so raspy, her eyes gazing up and down your body. Your ears burn scarlet red at her eyes checking you out as you stare at her in awe. “I’m, uhm, Tara’s project partner. Y/n L/n.” You stutter out as you can feel your heart beating erratically in your chest.

If this isn't gay panic you don’t know what is.

“Why are you so wet?” She questions with judging eyes.

‘Cause of you

“It started raining after I left my apartment and I didn’t bring a coat.” You explained with a nervous smile as you locked eyes with the woman’s.

She hummed as she turned to look behind her, after a few seconds the door opened wider and Tara appeared next to the woman, the height difference between the two almost making you laugh.

Tara smiled a small smile to you before it faded and changed into shocked one. “You’re soaked.” She states in a matter of fact way. You laugh nervously as you nod your head, rubbing the back of your neck with your hand. “Started raining on the way here.”

She frowned concerned as she took a step back, allowing you to enter, while the older woman still stayed in the doorway, glaring daggers at you. You swallowed nervously as Tara glared at the woman. “Sam, she's fine, don't be a bitch.”

Sam

Sam stares at you for a while before she reluctantly leaves the doorway and back into the apartment, you smile at Sam’s behaviour as you turn to look at Tara.

“Sorry about her, she's just really protective over me.” Tara apologises with a smile as you enter the apartment, closing the door behind you.

As you get a good view of the apartment you notice two other people talking to Sam, you've seen them around Blackmore.

The three of them are glaring at you as they whisper among each other. When they notice you’re looking at them they silence, all silently staring back at you.

Without thinking, you wave your hand at them as you smile. “Hi, I’m Y/n. I’m pretty sure I’ve seen you two before around campus.”

Tara doesn’t allow you to say more as her slender fingers wrap around your wrist as she drags you towards the dining table, your eyes remained on her beautiful sister Sam.

“I'll get you a towel, you prepare.” Tara tells you with a smile before taking off. You nod your head as you do as she said, take off your backpack and take out everything from inside it and place it onto the table.

Tara thankfully returns a few minutes later with a towel and a dry hoodie, she passes them over to you.

“You can borrow the hoodie if you want since your shirt is more than less see through.” She says with an amused laugh, you look down at blush at the fact it’s quite obvious you’re wearing a black bra.

“Thank you.” You tell her with an embarrassed laugh as you shamelessly take off your shirt and throw it into your bag before putting on the hoodie. It's warm and slightly too big for you, but you don’t mind it.

Grabbing the towel you place it under you, making sure you wouldn’t utterly soak the chair from the rain on your pants.

She gives a smile before she begins talking about her plans on what you two could do, stretching to reach the notebook full of notes you had brought with you.

You tried listening to Tara, you truly did, but not even five minutes after Tara had begun talking Sam had entered the kitchen to make a drink.

Suddenly every word Tara uttered it went into one ear and flew right through the other.

Her back faced you as she grabbed the glass from the top cabinet, not even having to go on the tip of her toes to reach it, something the shorter Carpenter would definitely have to do.

You smiled without noticing the longer you gazed at the gorgeous woman as she carried on making her drink.

“Y/n.”

You snapped your head back at Tara who had her eyebrows raised. “Did you listen to anything I said?”

Sam turned to look at the both of you as she leaned against the counter, sipping her drink. Her eyes focused on you as she drank at a slow pace.

You smiled nervously at her to which Sam only scowled back at you.

“Yeah, uhm, work and stuff right?” You waffled with a smile, Tara simply sighed as she shook her head. She went to say something but got interrupted by her older sister.

“Is that my hoodie?” Your head whips back towards Sam’s direction, Sam’s eyes focused on you. You blushed as you noticed Tara and let you borrow McHottie’s Sam's hoodie, not hers.

Your fingers toyed with the bottom of the hoodie nervously, before you could reply with utter gibberish Tara answered over you. “I let her borrow it since she was completely soaked.” She explained with a brief tight smile.

Sam hummed as she dropped the glass onto the counter. “But why give my hoodie to her? Why not yours?”

“Because It was closest to me, Sam. Jesus she isn’t going to do anything so calm down.” Tara defended you in an annoyed tone now, her eyes glaring at Sam as she leaned on her hand. “And tell Chad and Mindy to cut it out with the staring.”

“I can give it back if you’d like?” You gingerly asked. Both of the girl’s heads snapped towards you at your words.

“You don’t have to-” Tara started before Sam interrupted her speedily

“Yes. Give it back.” She demanded, pushing herself off the counter as she advanced towards you. Without hesitation you ripped the hoodie off of you, pulling it over your head quickly as your shirt rolled up with it.

You smiled sweetly at her as you passed her the hoodie with your right hand, your left hand not so subtly pulling down your shirt. Her fingers grazed over your knuckles as she retrieved the jumper from your hand, her eyes ogling at your shirt momentarily.

Her eyes connected with yours again as she pulled the hoodie to her side, she glowered over you as you looked up at her with a nervous smile.

She’s so fucking pretty, oh my fucking-

“Don’t give my stuff out again, Tara.” Sam told her sister as her eyes stayed glued to yours, “Sure, whatever, will you just leave now?” Tara says with annoyance clear in her tone, Sam stared at you for a few more seconds before she fulfilled her sister’s wish by leaving the kitchen silently.

Your eyes followed her leaving until she was out of your sight. Your eyes landed on the glaring twins to which you smiled awkwardly at them before you returned your attention back to Tara.

The shorter girl huffed as she flicked through a few pages of a notebook. “Sorry about her, she’s just really protective over me.” She apologised again.

You smiled dreamily at her as you thought more of the older sister. “You don’t have to apologise, it’s actually kinda sweet.”

Tara gives you a funny look as she snorts a laugh, her fingers finally stopping as she lands on the particular page she was looking for. “You must be delusional if you think Sam is sweet.”

Guess I’m delusional then, you thought with a smile as your eyes gazed over the half full glass Sam had left in the kitchen.

#sam carpenter x reader #sam carpenter x y/n #sam carpenter x female reader #sam carpenter #tara carpenter #chad meeks #mindy meeks #fluff #angst #my fanfic #scream #scream six

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hybridzizi · 1 year

Text

Here are some things that are true: if you don’t have gluten intolerance, gluten is not going to hurt you. Gluten does not cause autism or ADHD or whatever.

Here are some other things that are true: Up to 20% of people will suffer from IBS during their lives. IBS is more common in people with autism and other mental disorders. IBS symptoms are uncomfortable and having them all the time can distract you and push you towards a meltdown. Bread is a common IBS trigger.

I’m going to ramble, so here is the important advice: if bread upsets your stomach try switching to sourdough (check the ingredients -- if it contains vinegar or acid it’s not real sourdough) and make an appointment with a dietitian (not a nutritionist. Dietitians have training. Nutritionists have opinions).

Now let’s pretend you don’t know the above facts. You just know that dealing with meltdowns is hard. One day a friend tells you that cutting gluten helped them and you’re desperate for anything so you try it. You feel better. You have less meltdowns. You make an appointment with your doctor to tell them about this. The doctor runs a test and tells you you aren’t gluten intolerant. The doctor doesn’t ask any more questions. Maybe you try reintroducing bread back into your diet and your symptoms come back. Do you conclude that your doctor knows what he’s talking about? Or do you conclude that gluten is bad for you despite your apparent lack of gluten intolerance -- maybe it’s just a poison! Maybe no one should be eating it!

I don’t have a point. Rather, I have several points.

The first and most important point is to get yourself checked for FODMAP sensitivities. Wheat is not the only FODMAP and if you tweak your diet a little you can have a much better time.

The second point is that if someone tells you something stupid try to meet them with compassion. It might not be true that they have a secret gluten issue that the doctors are lying about, but it might be true that bread upsets their stomach and makes them miserable and they are telling you about this with the best language they have. It might be true that everyone else is either dismissing their problems or telling them that gluten is a poison, and by giving them a more even view (it probably isn’t gluten but did you know that wheat has other components?) you are opening up the world to them! This will be a lot more persuasive to them about the gluten thing than just telling them they’re wrong will be.

The third point is that even if someone is wrong about why something helps they might have a point about it helping. Homeopathic hospitals had better survival rates in the 1800s because the doctors washed their hands. Buying gluten-free bread can help your autistic meltdowns by not triggering the IBS you don’t know you have. Asking why someone thinks something will get you a lot farther than just telling them they’re wrong. Curiosity is an awesome tool. Use it!

Shit’s complicated. We’re all just doing our best.

#someone asked about gluten in the work neurodiversity channel and got piled on #and as someone whose symptoms got a lot better when I stopped eating bread for a few years that seems unfair!

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jackiepackiee · 3 months

Text

“May I have this dance?”

Chuuya x reader

(ft. The Flags)

Warnings - none

Type - Fluff

Word Count - 798

A song for you by Donny Hathaway. The slow jazz filled every inch of the old world pool hall, seducing the ears of every resident that found themselves inside. There were only seven, but that's how it always was. Every other night, when no missions were to be had. Albatross, drinking some fruit-based cocktail while teasing Chuuya. The latter gritting his teeth at his friend, although any passersby would think he hates him. Iceman enjoyed the music, as well as Doc as he both sipped on some heavy whisky. Pianoman and Lippmann were in a very intense game of pool, tied the entire run. Then, you. Changing the record to some more up beat jazz.

“We should dance! Doesn’t that sound fun?” You had always been rather energetic with a bit of alcohol in your system. It’s not like this place had a limit or carded anyone.

Lippmann looked up at you, a bit surprised. “Dance? Since when did you dance?”

“Since forever! Come on~ I love dancing, it’s only natural.” She explained.

On the other end of the hall Albatross teased Chuuya’s hair, before whispering into his ear.

“Go dance with her, you know you wanna~”

You didn’t realize this teasing, thinking Chuuya’s red cheeks were only from some overly expensive wine. Little did you know he hadn’t had a sip all night.

“No way! Anyways she’s talking to Lippmann, I don’t wanna bother her.” Chuuya said, pushing away Albatross. Not enough to hurt him of course.

Lippmann was having the same idea, no way he’d pass the opportunity up to play matchmaker.

“Very well then. Hmm, I’m not sure… you shouldn’t dance with Doc, wouldn’t wanna knock over his IV.”

Pianoman joined in, putting his pool stick down.

“And not Iceman, he’s a whole lot bigger than you with all that muscle.”

Pianoman said, easily concealing his playfulness.

Doc leaned into the trio of you, Lippmann, and Pianoman.

“And not Albatross, I’d bet he has two left feet.”

You.. you were not understanding what this was leading to. But still giggled at Doc’s little joke. Luckily Albatross couldn’t hear.

“Well, then who? You, Lippmann?”

Did she have to be so dense?

“No! I mean uh- I’m not very good at dancing, and neither is Pianoman!” Lippmann tried to turn it on Chuuya.

“But Pianoman, I’ve seen you dance on a mission before?” She spoke, curious as to why it was said he couldn’t dance. He shook his head, lying for a good cause.

Albatross walked over before she could ask any more questions, Chuuya in tow.

“You know, Chuuya could dance with you! Isn’t that right?”

She perked up, happy someone would dance with her. She smiled, and he melted. How could he ever say no to her?

“Sure… will you dance with me?”

He asked, gentlemanly as he always was with her.

Iceman, quiet as he always was, was still listening. He picked a record, it was from New Orleans. Jazzy and fast pace, probably from the 1930’s. He knew she loved this style. Swing dancing… Chuuya was in for an absolute treat, as well as the rest of the flags. Since they knew damn well he’d be faking it till he made it.

“Of course I’ll dance with you! Let’s go!”

She took his gloved hand in hers. It was surprisingly soft leather, though the real hand would be much nicer to hold and feel. Even if neither would admit it.

“You ready, Chuu?” God, his heart would give out if she called him that nickname ever again. But, he wouldn’t complain. What a lovely way to die that would be. Damn it, he got distracted.

“Chuuya? Ready?”

She was so patient.

“Yeah, I’m ready. Umm.. what do I do?”

She laughed, not in a mean way. It was cute, that’s what he thought anyway.

“Sorry sorry.. we can start with the basics. Okay, hands in mine.”

He took her hands. Unbeknownst to her, the flags gave him grins and thumbs up. “Your nails… They are painted red. That’s my favorite color, they’re lovely.”

“It is? Well isn’t that perfect, and thank you.”

She started to sway to the music. He followed suit, thanking his past self for learning how to keep rhythm.

“Can I spin you?”

She agreed, spinning while holding his hand. She was smiling, eyes beaming while looking into his. Was she?… she had her doubts before, but she definitely loved him.

Iceman, with his knowledge of records, changed the music to play a slower song. Meaning Chuuya could hold her close. He did not need five wingmen.

He pulled her closer by the waist.

“The music slowed down, so we should too.”

“Since when did you know about dance?~”

He made a faux annoyed expression.

“Shut up.”

“Make me.”

Part two?

#chuuya nakahara x reader #bsd chuuya #chuuya x reader #chuuya nakahara #chuuya stormbringer #bsd stormbringer #16!chuuya #albatrossxreader #iceman x reader #doc x reader #lippmannxreader #pianomanxreader #bungou stray dogs stormbringer

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updownlately · 5 months

Text

you said, ‘forever’ (and i almost bought it)

| steph catley x reader | angst | 0.9k | a/n: okay so i feel like i need to put the warning that this is purely fiction here. i've got nothing against any of the people mentioned in this fic lol. in fact i love them all. but anyways, i read @reminiscingtonight's fic australia a few days ago and it just hasn't left my mind (it's a masterpiece if you ask me). and so it prompted this idea :) hopefully this is decent bc i wrote it all at 3am but yeah, happy reading amigos! 🫶

~~~

You don’t know why you did this to yourself.

You really don’t.

All you know is that your stomach’s dropping six feet under and you have no one but yourself to blame.

Oddly enough, you shouldn’t even be feeling this.

You shouldn’t be feeling your heart break into two, chest tightening impossibly as your stomach knots and your throat closes up.

The team’s just won the derby and you should feel elated. You should be celebrating like a maniac, probably joining Katie and Beth as they run around the field celebrating with the crowd.

You should be joining Kyra as she goes around and sprays people with her water bottle.

You should be doing the victory lap with Viv and Cloe.

What you shouldn’t be doing is just looking towards the crowd by the bench- the friends and family section.

You shouldn’t be staring at Steph, your hands pressed tightly to your sides in a somewhat successful attempt to hide how much they’re shaking.

You also probably shouldn’t be swallowing hard, your breath shaky as thoughts of what if run endlessly through your mind.

You want to tear your eyes away, forget the way she immediately ran to the stands to wrap her arms around someone that wasn’t you.

You want to ignore the way her hold around him is so easy, so fitting, like it was meant to be.

You desperately want to forget that she ever existed to you as anything more than a teammate

But you can’t find it in yourself to, instead choosing to let yourself suffer, lump in your throat getting bigger with each passing second.

You hate that it’s those three words that come to your mind when you see them together - ‘meant to be’- the words like poison on your tongue.

Jaw clenching as you feel your eyes burn, cheeks colouring as you anger begins to course through you, you will yourself to look away, head turning to the side as you try and focus on Victoria chasing Kyra around with her own bottle

The image of her in another’s embrace is seared into your mind though, haunting you even as you’re turned away.

There’s still a bitter taste in your mouth.

You know it’s childish, but you hate that the three words are being used for someone that isn’t you and her.

You hate that it’s what your mind went to.

It used to be you.

You two were meant to be.

It’s what she said to you years ago, when the two of you were lying in your shared bedroom back in Portland.

Back when the world felt right, with her in your arms, her little huffs of laughter at your stupid jokes filling the otherwise silent night.

Back when love felt right- when it felt like a hug, a warm blanket tucking you in, like the warm sunshine on a cold winter night.

When love felt anything but like this- like the taste of blood from the way you were biting your cheek in an attempt to distract yourself from the cruel pain in your chest.

Like anything but the feeling of your nails digging into your palm as you tried to direct your focus to the pitch, to the fans, to the team- anywhere really- anywhere but towards the blonde you once called yours.

You two were meant to be, she’d said.

Whispered into the inches of space between you as she’d looked in your eyes, moonlight making her look more angelic than ever, her hands intertwining with yours as she’d tucked herself into your side.

She’d promised you forever that night, a gentle kiss sealing the words.

‘Whatever happens, it’s you and me.’

All that only to go and break your heart months later, Arsenal contract signed easily, a shitty letter apologizing for leaving- a letter you now kept shoved in a cardboard box in the back of your closet, along with all of the other mementos from your three years together.

You two were forever, she’d sworn.

And yet, here you were, head thrown back, eyes pointing at the sky as you willed for the tears in your eyes to not fall.

Shaking your head as you took a shuddering breath, you brought the bottom hem of your jersey to cover your face, covertly wiping the single tear that escaped you.

How was it that you’d won today and yet somehow all that you could feel was the sickening feeling of your stomach turning?

How was it that all you could think about was what you used to have, mind wrapping around the fact that at the end of the day, win or lose against the blues, you’d already lost something greater than any derby would ever be.

Running a hand over your face, you did your best to plaster a fake smile on your face, betraying the way you wanted to curl up into a ball and just comfort your shattered heart.

Swallowing your emotions down, you put your absolute focus on making sure you didn’t look behind you- didn’t let your heart break again.

Instead, walking up to Lia and Noelle, you let yourself fall into step with them as pieces of your broken heart trailed behind you on the pitch.

‘Maybe’, you concluded bitterly, ‘maybe this ‘falling in love’ thing just wasn’t meant for you.’

#we don't proofread around here anymore #steph catley x reader #steph catley imagine #steph catley #woso fanfics #woso x reader #woso imagine #woso one shot #woso community #woso #my writing #blurb #angst #ysf

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hitlikehammers · 3 months

Text

feel the bigger thing

rating: t ♥️ cw: criminal-levels of softness, rockstar!Eddie, domestic husbands are domestic ♥️ tags: established relationship, rockstar!eddie, rockstar husbands, love is lying on top of each other on the sofa discussing buying a new house with a pool, soul-deep love, slice of life, softness

for @steddielovemonth day twelve: Love is having hope for the future together (@acasualcrossfade)

you know how the rockstar husbands talked about lights for their pool in the original fic, je ne regrette rien? well GUESS WHAT FEATURES HERE

“These numbers,” Eddie’s reading over the printouts from their manager, sales projections and preliminary tour dates and all the rest: “baby, we can get the new house, hell, we can keep this one and have a second house if we want it,” Eddie kisses the top of Steve’s head where he’s got him bundled up on his chest, tucked under his chin where they’re currently both sprawled on the couch; Eddie says he likes to think like that—likes to know Steve’s there by design, no question, the weight of him evident every time he breathes, he says; held close to my heart, baby, in fact, is what he also says.

Hopeless goddamn romantic, his husband. But he wouldn’t have him any other way.

“We don’t need a second house,” Steve points out, smooshed against Eddie’s sternum.

“We can get the pool,” Eddie added with the audible equivalent of his brow-wiggle and okay, fine, that’s a good point, because Steve may not have really used the one at his parents’ after, well, everything, but he…does kinda miss having one. Now that the memories are distant enough in both time and miles that he doesn’t see standing water deeper than four feet and start fucking hyperventilating anymore.

So…yeah. Compelling argument regarding a pool.

“This record,” Eddie blows out a long breath, slow and even as Steve rides it where he’s braced atop his chest, lifted with his lungs: “this record’s gonna change everything.”

Steve turns his opposite cheek against Eddie’s heartbeat, huffs a little as he gets comfortable again before he asks:

“You think so?”

Eddie doesn’t move, but the fact that he stills so completely is kinda like a motion in itself.

“You don’t?”

He doesn’t sound angry or anything, or even upset. Not disappointed. Maybe just…surprised.

And Steve gets that. The numbers attached to this album are…if they’re right?

This is going to be huge.

But.

“I mean,” Steve shrugs, which is kinda useless given his position, so he sorts of ends up nosing at Eddie’s shirt instead as a byproduct of the hushing of his shoulders: he’s not mad at that, as the outcome:

“I guess, not really,” Steve finally settles on because it’s really not any more complicated than that.

Then Eddie’s got his fingertips at Steve’s nape and he’s spreading them through Steve’s hair and oh.

Oh, that’s so fucking nice.

Which is probably why he pairs the sensation with the question he follows with:

“It’s not good?”

And Steve almost doesn’t hear it, and he wouldn’t even fucking feel bad for not hearing it or not processing it when Eddie’s hands are in his hairlike that because fucking hell, Eddie knows what that goddamn does to him; but Steve does hear it. And again: it’s not angry, or upset. It’s maybe a little surprised. It’s not even quite…hurt, or disappointed, but it’s far closer to either or both than Steve’s comfortable with, than Steve ever wants to hear in that voice, so:

“God no,” he answers with real feeling, shaking his head to back it up and also to—mournfully—dislodge Eddie’s distracting fucking hands; “it’s spectacular,” Steve tells him, plain and honest because it’s the fucking truth: “definitely your best yet.” Also true.

Eddie goes still again, and Steve tips his head up and back at the most uncomfortable possible angle to catch Eddie expression, to read its clues: he’s watching Steve so intently, like he’s something unfathomable and dear enough to spend eternity decoding—but that’s strange in itself. They kind of know each other inside-and-out by now.

So Steve rolls back the words exchanged, looks for the catch, the dropped stitch, the record-scratch.

Gonna change everything—

Ah. Steve’s breath hitches a little, but: he thinks he’s found it. Right.

He makes himself breath in deep but slow, gentle and calm as he can, and Eddie’ll pick up the tension he can’t wholly wash out just yet, and Eddie’ll feel the uptick of his pulse where his one hand holds Steve still around the ribs. But it’s fine. Because they’re fine.

Okay.

“I just,” Steve exhales long; “you said everything,” and Steve tries to make his tone hold the word itself to account, to fill it up with all of the things that came to Steve’s mind and made him denounce the possibility on sight—change everything? But there’s so very little about Steve’s life, about this life together, about their life that they’ve clawed and fought for and now get to relish and bask in: Steve doesn’t want that changed.

And to think a fucking album release could change what they have, that was just, insanity.

…right?

“You said that, and I—“ and that’s as far as Steve gets before Eddie’s dragging him up, firm but so tender, and so full of love in just the touch that any misgivings—and they weren’t even that, that were just…just little off feelings that Steve knew weren’t of real consequence, because he knowswhat they are and what they have and his first instinct was right damnit, and he knew that like he knows the sky is blue and Eddie curls frizz no matter what you fucking do to them: they won’t change in the ways that matter, because they’re…unshakable.

So Steve knew that already, and he knows it now in just Eddie’s touch drawing up upward and closer, but if somehow he’d managed to miss both of those points?

The way he kisses Steve is…fuck, it’s like sucking his soul to consume.

“Oh, oh baby,” Eddie speaks so that they’re lips aren’t ever anything but locked tight, but touching close and with feeling; “not everything, no,” he promises, seals it, vows it straight into Steve’s open mouth so it’ll slip safe down to his heart and soul:

“Not everything,” he whispers, still close enough they can’t breathe without the other there, too, and: that’s heady. That’s real.

“Good,” Steve exhales but with a weight to it, a finality: a seal and vow of his own as he nips Eddie’s swollen lips once, twice, and then tucks himself under Eddie’s chin again, where Eddie’s arms are waiting to envelop him even closer, now; tighter still somehow.

“You’re the center of my world, you know that?” Eddie finally murmurs into Steve’s hair once their breaths have calmed a little, and he can say it steady and sure like he means to, and Steve really just smiles, and burrows that half-an-inch closer, where he compresses Eddie’s flesh to the bone so he can feel the nearest a person can be.

“I do know that,” and it’s not even a fib, or a half-truth: and Eddie already knows the understood ‘you’ of the sentiment clear and well-established—Steve knows Eddie’s love in all sorts of ways, big and small and in between but the first way he probably believed it best was coming to grips with the fact, the unwavering law-of-the-universe fact, that Eddie Munson’s heart beats for Steve the very same Steve’s beats for him. No difference. No more or less. Perfect concert, exact same time signature: precisely shock-start to pump in the first place, like the same spark keeps time in both their chests.

Steve knows he’s loved in ways that don’t have words. Because he loves the very same, and so he knows them intimately, no labels required.

“I already told the promo team we work around your schedule or I’m gonna have to by inconveniently down with the flu for appearances,” Eddie adds as Steve settles back on his chest, soft again and languid: he wasn’t fearful, or even truly hesitant, but—it’s nice. To lean back in and cuddle close.

“You know you don’t have to—“ Steve starts but Eddie tuts him quiet in a flash.

“I do have to. Save my heart the aching, baby,” he presses lips to Steve’s temple and speaks there, drags his mouth wet to the skinL “more important, save yours the same.”

And Steve maybe can’t help but press his own lips first through the cotton of Eddie’s shirt straight to the center of his chest, and then leaning up a little, to the stretched-out collar sneaking the lowest peek of flesh beneath his clavicle: kisses there too, a little sloppy and a lot overfull of feeling as he breathes:

“I love you something wild, Eddie Munson,” and his pulse skips happily, a little dance under Steve’s mouth as he smiles before propping his chin on Eddie’s chest and looking up, meeting the eyes he knows are waiting for him, waiting to lock with his.

And when they do—even after all these years, and Steve has no expectation of it ever change with more to come—but when their eyes meet it’s Steve’s heart that goes giddy, a little off-kilter for joy, and it fucking is that, isn’t it.

It’s wild.

“I love metal, baby,” Eddie answers, and Steve tips his head a little; an odd direction, but he’s intrigued: “music and D&D and meeting the fans,” and Eddie’s playing with his hair again, and he knows what that does, but—

“I feel something so much bigger, for you,” and Jesus, Steve’s in love with maybe the only person in the world who can match him for romance; sometimes outstrips him, even. His heart goes back to dancing chaotic and he couldn’t fucking stifle the grin if he tried, and fuck if he’s ever planning to try.

“Fucking sap,” Steve mouths tight against Eddie’s chest, damp through his shirt for the chuckle he breathes there, weightless and marveling because he gets to have this; they get to have this: they’ve had this for so long and they get to keep it.

“You love it though,” Eddie runs his cheek back and forth across the top of Steve head, and Steve just hums:

“I don’t love it,” he insists with intent in it: “the bigger thing,” he corrects, makes clear: “I feel the bigger thing.”

And Eddie just ducks a smile against Steve’s hair, warm where as it spreads, and Steve can feel it; can’t help him mirror it full as he sighs:

“So tell me more about this pool.”

tag list (comment to be added): @pearynice @hbyrde36 @slashify @finntheehumaneater @wxrmland @dreamwatch @perseus-notjackson

♥️

divider credit here

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #fluff #established relationship #established steddie #rockstar eddie munson #domestic fluff #or rather more: domestic LOVE #idiots in love #slice of life #rockstar husbands #they might have enough money for the POOL #criminal levels of softness #steddielovemonth #love is having hope for the future together #these two boys have probably been together around a decade at this point and it FUCKING SHOWS #old married couple!steddie #stranger things

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