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#this one was so good it deserved a little effort. not too much though. you cant trick me into drawing that easily
acapelladitty · 3 days
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thinnest thread, sown together
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Summary: After an accident, Cooper leaves Lucy to patch up his leather duster for him but when he returns he finds that she's used his absence as an opportunity for a private indulgence (AKA: Cooper walks in on Lucy masturbating). [3.2k words]
(tw: voyeurism, vague threats, teasing, masturbation, mentions of drug use, orgasm, coming in pants)
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"Try not to fuck this up, vaultie. I'm fond of that coat, you hear me?"
"Heard you the first three times, boss."
An unfortunate and somewhat embarrassing accident involving wooden boards and a protruding scrap of sheet metal had proven too much for Cooper's coat, the leather duster having almost split in half due to the pressure of the metal cleaving its way through the material as he descended in a undignified heap.
Lucy was a smart enough girl to know not to laugh, but the noise which escaped the ghoul as he had fallen sat somewhere between a deflating balloon and a startled deathclaw so the effort it had taken for her to not bust out into a giggle was borderline heroic.
The fault was Cooper's own, his footing misstepping due to his attention being pulled away by the distant sound of gunfire - the origins of it unknown but never anything good. It had been enough to throw him off though, and Cooper had sworn up a storm as he tripped on a loose board and smashed through the rickety walkway with such an undignified noise.
Not the end of the world but the genuine distress which seemed to briefly touch at Cooper's face as he recovered from the fall and examined his tattered jacket before his eyes had moved Lucy to offer to fix it up, knowing that he already owned a rusted needle and thread among the various practical belongings he had strewn around his person.
Presumably, they were the same ones he'd previously used to sew the top of her finger onto his own to replace the missing digit she'd torn off with her teeth. She didn't regret it since he'd deserved that and worse for treating her more shittily than that dog that followed him around at times, but she was curious.
More than once her gaze had lowered to her displaced finger, the lightened tone of her smooth skin a stark contrast to his own, and she wondered how it must feel. To have her as a part of him. Did it feel any different? The sight of it made something odd roil in her chest; a stunning mixture of curiosity, vague disgust, and a pleasant warmth that no matter what he did or how their partnership ended, he would always carry that little part of her whether he liked it or not.
However, that was a discussion which she hadn't broached yet but it was always there ticking away in the back of her mind.
Despite knowing that he was perfectly capable, Lucy found her offer of her sewing skills being met with quick acceptance and Cooper had moved like hell itself as he sourced her a table and room to work, securing their accommodation for the night in an old storage unit which was little more than two rooms filled with old, empty crates and not much else.
She set to work as diligently as she had the rest of the miserable and shitty tasks he assigned to her, each designed to test her skills or teach her a valuable lesson in survival. This though, she had taken to with a small smile, the repetitive and willing task remindering her of a more simple time back in her vault. Sewing circle with the others had been a blast of fun and constant gossip and she did miss it at times.
A memory stirred as Cooper watched her from his standing position a few feet behind her turned back. He saw Barb, sitting at their kitchen table doing much the same as she mended the tears in his pants after he'd taken a tumble off one of the more unstable stallions. But, just as quickly as it arose, he banished the memory away as he often did with thoughts of his ex-wife - the hurt which accompanied them making him instantly sour and grow more volatile than he would like.
Since discovering his previous life as an actor, Lucy's attitude and actions around him had been different and, more than once, he had caught her staring at him with those big, doe eyes of hers. What was surprising more than anything was that the attention didn't irritate him as much as he thought it would and he wasn't ignorant to the slight blush that stained her cheeks when he caught her making a moon face at him.
Seemed that Lucy Maclean had developed herself quite the little liking to him and he had taken that discovery into his stride with a smug gleefullness. He had always been a proud man and to have such an attractive thing interested in him had cracked open a facet of his personality that had long since closed itself off to the world.
Cooper Howard had always been a flirt, incorrigible in his prime, and those mean little teases which he afforded Lucy punished him as much as her as he refused to follow up on them. He hadn't lied when he said Lucy Maclean wasn't ready for him and that same pride refused to allow him to take any real advantage of her, knowing that in the long run, she'd probably thank him for not poisoning her with his own bullshit.
But still, he lived for the game and this was just another way to play. A bit of fun to pass the time until they had dealt with her daddy and he had found the truth of his daughters' whereabouts.
If he were honest with himself, a feat in its own given his choices, something unfamiliar and warm tugged at his stomach every time he considered the fact that Lucy's fancies had taken root with him as he was now. Not Cooper Howard, famed movie star, but Cooper Howard, ghoul and scourge of the wastelands. It was a feeling locked away with the end of the world he had known and better left by the wayside.
Besides, it was much easier to channel that warmth into some playful teasing.
Pressing himself firmly against her as she leaned diligently over his coat, his stomach was flush against her back and he felt the shiver which rolled down her spine as he engulfed her senses. She hid it well, could have easily passed it off as a natural reaction to a monster forcing its way into her personal space, but Cooper knew better.
"Don't take an attitude with me, vaultie. Your damn fault it ripped in the first place. Lucky for you that I'm a kindly man and I ain't ripping your shirt off to keep us on that equal streak we've been enjoying these last few weeks."
Her head snapping up vertically to face him as he loomed over her, Lucy's expression was as open as ever to him as he took in the torrid mixture of irritation, focus, and mild arousal which his determined positioning was causing her.
And just like that, there was that little flush of colour, sitting high on her cheeks and making him hold back a smirk as he at played her like an old fiddle.
"My shirt wouldn't fit you." Was her impressive comeback after a few silent moments of intense consideration, her mouth set into a proud line as she made her point.
"Never said I'd be wearing it, sweetheart." Cooper answered, pushing her head even further back into his stomach with the pressure of a single finger on her forehead. "What I did say is that you would be losing it. I mean, that's your golden rule, after all. Do unto others what you'd have done unto you? Hrm?"
"I never took your jacket." Lucy defended hotly.
"Well it's between your hands, ain't it?"
"Only because-"
"Enough arguing, darling." Cutting her off to frustrate her evern further, Cooper dropped his hands to the pockets of his filthy slacks. "Now I'm gonna leave on a scouting trip for five, maybe six hours, so you get that jacket all patched up and looking pretty and I'll see about forgetting what I was talking about."
Silently seething but perking up at the thought of getting to enjoy some alone time as her back felt wickedly hot from Cooper standing flush against her skin, Lucy did everything in her power to not think about the slight bulge which pressed between her shoulder blades nor the infuriating man it belonged to.
"Whatever." Lucy announced after a pause, nodding her head forward once more as she went back to mending his coat with dexterous fingers. "Try to pick up something freshly killed on the way back because your latest batch of ass jerky tastes like shit."
Having taken to calling anything Cooper hunted and cooked 'ass jerky', Lucy had yet to actually try any of his cannibalistic delicacies and, even more surprising, Cooper had never actively offered her any; appearing to almost go out of his way to find excuses for her to be denied it.
Chuckling at the rare swear from her, a sign that she was truly annoyed with him, Cooper tutted his disapproval with a soft headshake.
"Sounds good to me, valutie. Maybe you should see about washing that filthy fucking mouth out with soap before I return, huh?"
x-x-x-x-x
Arriving back from his scouting trip a few hours earlier than he expected to, Cooper heard nothing as he silently entered the first room of the storage unit. A quick hunt had pulled up nothing too fresh so shit-tasting ass jerky was back on the menu for another night for the little food critic vaultie.
Cooper dropped his gun and holster to the top of a nearby storage box, the lock rusting and clearly having been opened through sheer brute force many years previously. Against all odds, he had found himself actively missing his coat as he traversed the vast dusted grounds which surrounded the storage unit.
So used to its presence, the absence of the familiar feel of the softened leather pressing against his shoulders had made him feel oddly vulnerable as his fingers flexed and twitched towards phantom pockets. He had been quick to the trigger, gun pulled and pointed at the slightest noise as his heightened senses refused to allow him to relax on the small trip.
And, as much as it irritated him, the thought of the little vaultie hunched over his coat and fixing it up like a kept housewife amused him in a way which he found hard to pin down.
Speaking of the little vaultie, her absence in the main room was odd; particularly since the table she had preciously occupied with his coat was abandoned. It was an absence which made him curious rather than worried as she would not have left without him or without having achieved their shared goal of knocking her daddies teeth down his smug throat.
No.
She was too smart to leave.
So that would mean...
Peering in through the rounded window which sat near the top of the door that led to the second room, Cooper had to press his lips together in an instant as his cock stiffened in his pants and his eyes widened at the filthy sight which awaited him.
Unaware that Cooper's scouting trip had been cut shorter than anticipated, Lucy Maclean had apparently taken his absence as a rare excuse for some self-pleasure and, god-fucking-damn, did she seem to be enjoying herself.
Her upper body reclined against the metallic wall, her ass resting on a wooden crate as one leg hung loosely down the side of it, the other pulled up so her foot also sat atop the crate. Her knees were spread wide, the angle enough to allow her easy access to her dripping cunt without having to bend. Head tipped back against the wall, her fingers moved quickly between her slickened folds and Cooper couldn't bring himself to turn away even as shame at his own voyeurism trickled down his spine.
Falling loosely around her shoulders, Lucy's hair was in a wild state of disarray as the constant roll of her head against the wall had messed up any sense of order in the dark strands.
The only sounds in the immediate vicinity came from her, muted gasps and whimpers slipping free of her lips as her other hand split its attention between pressing against her mouth to muffle anything louder than a whine and pinching at her breasts; slender fingers rolling across her darkened nipples as they remained peaked in the warm air.
She was fucking beautiful and, as much as filthy shame continued to creep across his skin at watching her like this, Cooper found he couldn't tear his eyes away as his gaze filtered over her creamy skin, imagining how soft it would feel under his calloused hand and blunted teeth.
He knew that she had quite the little sex drive, her crossed arms having more than once demanded time or space to indulge her needs. In those moments, where she was commanding and confident in her expectations, an aspect of her personality that she didn't indulge nearly enough, he found it maddeningly endearing and it drove him more wild than she ever needed to know.
Snatching her fingers away from her left nipple, her hand dropped to something by her side and Cooper almost gave the game away as a lustful growl was quickly caught by the back of his gloved hand as his cock jerked within his slacks.
There, clenched between Lucy's fingers was his goddamn jacket; the mended leather bunching up between her digits as she simultaneously rode the fingers on her other hand - the fingers there moving in tandem and they stroked and pinched and fucked into her cunt with a steady rhythm.
"Cooper." She muttered and a sensation, not unlike freezing cold water being shucked across his body, tensed Cooper's spine as he realised he'd been caught. However, the panicked feeling passed just as quickly as Lucy's soft voice followed up with a very breathy. "Please."
She was thinking about him and that revelation was almost enough to have him shooting off in his pants like a schoolboy. Her eyes remained closed, fingers moving even more quickly as they slipped from steadily pumping within her to circle around her clit, teasing herself as she imagined him.
Thought about him.
Pictured his fingers in place of her own.
Feeling very hot under the collar and fighting the urge to say 'to hell with it' and announce himself, Cooper dropped the heel of his gloved hand to his groin - rubbing at his trapped cock through the fabric as he watched her. Fresh shame, hot and heavy, swept across his irradiated skin as his tongue slipped free to lick as his dry lips.
There had been an old fling, a women he'd met on a hunt about a decade before the whole shitshow with Don Pedro had gone down. A ghoul like him, she was hellfire in a handbag and quicker with a gun than most of the slingers he'd met.
She'd caught him at a sloppier time in his past and he had taken full advantage of their whirlwind mess to indulge his own worst traits. The chem flowed easier in those times and the other drugs she scored made the hard days all the sweeter as they snorted and fucked and inhaled themselves into a proper mess.
However, even that didn't last and one day he had awoken from a stupor to find that she had disappeared and moved on without him.
Fuck, he couldn't even remember her name, but what he could remember was the feeling of her lips on his cock and the way she could perfectly balance a powdered line on his chest as she bit her way down his skin, occasionally drawing blood and making him gasp.
She had been as rotten as him, just two ghouls numbing themselves to the state of the world for a couple of weeks as they waited for the inevitable to take them.
Hell, some of the shit they got up to would probably blow the vaulties head clean off if he described them to her. But then, she was so different to the rest that he couldn't help but wonder how she liked it.
Would she grit her teeth and moan through the pain as he fucked himself inside her, stretching her out to accommodate his size? Or would she grin that little feral smile he'd seen playing on her lips when she achieved some bloodstained victory and push back at him to demand more?
His cock twitched against his palm, the length feeling more uncomfortably trapped as he rubbed himself through his slacks, not quite trusting himself to pull it free. It was torture but, lucky for him, he was used to that by now.
Goddamn Lucy Maclean and her wicked ways had him pawing at himself like a mindless beast. Like one of those mutated things that roamed the outskirts of the desert with nothing but base desire guiding its thoughts.
Rolling his tongue against his teeth, he could imagine how good she would feel under his mouth. Her soft skin, pillowy and firm between his teeth as he teased the strength of it; biting enough to threaten the unblemished creaminess as she arched her back and pressed harder into his mouth. The taste of her sweat, fresh and mounting, as he trailed his mouth lower, lips teasing their way along her hips and inner thighs until she was a trembling mess ready for him to consume her like she knew he wanted.
In her panicked babble as she had first offered him sex, she had tried to offer the use her mouth and he gazed at her lips now, plump and wettened by her own tongue, and he could almost feel the wicked softness of them wrapped around his cock; her greedy tongue pulling him deeper as he gripped her hair within his hand and met her eyes while he buried his cock deep within her clenching throat.
Lost in the fantasy, his thoughts boldened by his voyeurism as he watched her curl her fingers expertly within her cunt, Cooper came with a muted grunt - the disgrace of his release instantly trapping within his pants as the sticky mess quickly irritated him with how heated and uncomfortable it felt.
Lucy still wasnt finished, her casual edging of her own pleasure only making her move more slowly as she built herself back up to the point of release. Her grip on his coat flexed with each pump of her fingers as she enjoyed herself, still unaware of the struggling ghoul who observed her with heated eyes.
Backing away from the door with regret etched in the lines of his features, Cooper silently exited the storage unit once again as he recalled a nearby barrel of water - the stagnant liquid probably decent enough to allow him to clean off his mess and hide all evidence of his unexpected show.
Her innocent question rattled through his mind once more, the weeks old offer still as fresh as ever in its casualness.
Do you want to have sex?
And, after that little taste, Cooper felt a weight lift off his shoulders as he settled on the fact that, yes, if Lucy Maclean - with her big eyes and busy fingers - asked him again, then he would take her up on her very generous offer, consequences be fucking damned.
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canon-gabriel-quotes · 8 months
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Transcript:
Who hell do you think you are? You’re any kind of artist? Anybody knows who you are?
Maybe everybody else wants to enjoy the peace and quiet. This is one of the most important places in North America, and who are you? Who are you? You miserable, presumptuous, no talent- you’re no artist. An artist respects the silence. It serves the foundation of creativity. 
You obviously don’t have the talent. You don’t have enough respect for yourself or other people to know what it means to respect yourself, in music or any form of creativity, and I’m an NYU film school graduate. Sucker. And the school of visual arts in the academy of art university in San Francisco.
You suck. You’re a no talent. If you really have talent go practice and then get yourself a gig instead of ruining the day for everybody down here. You disgrace. You are everything that’s gone wrong in this world. You’re a self consumed, no talent, mediocre piece of shit. And I’ve earned my right to say it, okay? In 1975, I walked Bob Dylan up on stage. Who the fuck are you? I knew the Grateful Dead from 1966.
Who the fuck are you?
You’re nothing. You are nothing. And you will never be anything. Never. How dare you? You miserable mediocre nothing. Shame on you. You crack a stupid little smile, you little pimp. Go learn to play. You’re flat. You can’t even carry a fucking note. I don’t care about your little horn lip, it doesn’t mean you know how to play. You’re flat. I’ve trained classically, I’ve trained contemporaneously, and
you suck. 
Audio source
Original video that's being referenced
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marclef · 6 months
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i wonder if you’ve grown to like frogs because of fake pep
honestly? i've been a big fan of frogs ever since i was little, fake peppino just appeals to my love of that + weird little guys
though i DID get extremely excited when i first went through his boss fight with a friend, and shouted during his jump attack "HE'S FROG"
and then War comes along and theres dozens of fake peppino clones running around ribbiting at you. i think that awoke something in my brain.
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yanderenightmare · 6 months
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TW: NSFW, yandere, f!reader, bondage, abuse, punishment, intense spanking/whipping-ish
gn reader
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“Please- plea- m’so- sorry-” You sob, voice cracking on its own blubbering. Chest full of panic – heaving for a fix but achieving little less than spurring even more hysteria.
“Haah…” He sighs. Casually fixing your bonds tighter around your wrists, hoisting them a little higher above your head until you were properly stretched up on your tippy-toes.
Shivering in just your undies in anxious wait of his anger.
Stroking your back while holding your belly in a steady hand, he thinks he’s never felt fear quite like it, but unfortunately, “Y’broke the rules, Sunshine… and now yer’ gettin’ punished.”
He unbuckles his belt. Your eardrums burn at the crisp sound, so much spiked blood rushing about, making you go dizzy. 
You think you might pass out.
“What did I say the rules were, hm? ‘You remember ‘em?” He mumbles in a steady tone, speaking awfully softly with his lips pressed against your temple. Waiting for your answer.
You give a sob and a pitiful nod, and he hums in return, rubbing calm circles into your shivering, goose-fleshed skin.
“Recite them for me.” He requests, nose rubbing your hairline as you shiver from his touch.
Voice unsteady, filtered through tears and a hopeless sense of terror – chin tipped up, needing to gasp for breaths. “N-no fighting, no- no arguing, no run- running-”
“Mh…” He hums, taking in the scent of your shampoo with a sniff of your crown, placing a kiss there as though in kudos – or as a small mercy before getting started. “And you managed to do all three in one night. ‘You feel proud, hm? ‘You feel accomplished? Hm? Was it worth it?”
You whimper under the interrogation, feeling smaller and smaller by the second – so exposed where you are, practically hanging from the ceiling like dead meat. Stripped of everything that might’ve protected you – or that would have at least cushioned the coming onslaught of pain you knew to dread.
“Nah… it’s written all over your body. Goosebumps and cold sweat, shaking from tits to toes. You regret it, don’t you?” He murmured, winding his belt around his fist once, then twice, leaving a looped tail. “Mh, maybe you’ll think twice about it next time... or maybe you’ll finally learn your place.”
He finished with a soft bite to the chub of your cheek, then grabbed your chin just as gently, holding your face up to look at him as he sidestepped to your front. Leaning his forehead against yours, he stroked your jaw with his thumb – lips hovering just short of yours.
“I'm gonna hurt you, Sweetie.” He purred, stroking your asscheek with the cool leather in his grip – in such gross contrast to what you knew he planned on using it for. “I promised I would, and now I will…”
He kissed your lips then – slowly, sweetly – suffocatingly so as you cried – tasting your tears and doing a terrible job at withholding his grin as you felt it pull giddily at the corner of his mouth.
He licked his lips once he pulled away, walking a circle around you like a shark.
“How many hits do you deserve?” He mused. “I guess one for each rule you broke is fair, but it seems a little scant…”
He stopped behind you, placing a chaste kiss on your arm before nuzzling around it.
“Should we say thirty?” He offered, and your eyes immediately widened.
Shaking your head furiously, prayers already coming out in splutters. “No- please-”
“No? Too many?” He pouted, not bothering to mask his glee now. “Okay, okay, calm down, baby. Breathe.” He soothed with no effort. “I think…”
There was a pause – a hum of thought as he wrapped his arms around your front and swayed you back against his chest in a hug.
“Ugh fuck, I'm no good makin’ rules on the fly…” He feigned - sinking his jaw into the grove of your armpit before cuddling the soft flesh with his chin-stubble.
He sucked his teeth in a further display of thought before releasing an exasperated sigh.
“I really didn’t think you’d break ‘em, y’know? I thought you’d be a good pet…”
You trembled, eyes looking down at the belt held between his big hands – whimpering at the sight of him simply playing with it – psyching you out like a true sadist.
“But you just had to disappoint me, didn’t you?”
You bit your lip to stop a sob.
“Had to be difficult… and now I gotta make difficult decisions…”
He slinked off you, leaving you to wobble – toes barely grazing the cold basement floor.
You try your best to prepare yourself for the next events, but the more you brace yourself the more tense you get and the harder you cry. “Please- I’ll be good- promise- m’real- really sorry-” 
“I know, baby. I know~ I am, too.” He coos, kissing your spine while rubbing circles into your sides – feeling your ribs rattle with sniffles, struggling for air through your panic. “I wanna make sure we never have to be sorry again.”
He wraps an arm around the front of your hips, steadying you while stroking the loop of his belt over your plump cheeks – tentatively teasing the soft flesh with what was soon to come.
He licked his lips at the promise – already imagining the flawless flesh blooming with his marks.
“I think thirty is fair.”
“No- no please- please, don’t-” You thrash – but do so little more than in place.
“Don’t squirm.” He interrupts, his hand curling into your hip with blunt nails denting the fine skin, keeping you still, pushing your side snugly against his front – holding you intimately while gruffing out eerie murmurs still much too softly for what he was saying. “Remember, it’s another ten hits if you fight me and another ten if you argue.”
At least he doesn’t make you count....
You wouldn’t have been able to even under threat – too busy wailing.
Each hit like the lash of a whip, smacking you fast, one on top of the other. It’s enough to make you throw up after half of it – though it's mostly just water and acid.
He takes pity enough to allow you a small break. Wringing off his wife-beater and wiping your mouth with it – also brushing some of the sweat off your brow before kissing your forehead. 
“Halfway there, Sweetie- you’re doing so good~”  He whispered soothingly, holding your cheeks to pick your face up from hanging – looking into the hopeless look of your opium-blown eyes – so lost he didn’t know if you could even hear him.
He acts as though he’s sorry after, but the boner he’s got nudged against you doesn’t lie – desperately dry-humping your thigh for some sort of relief.
His breaths are tight and hot, puffed against your arm where he now mouths wet kisses. “Good-” He swallows thickly, brows tight-knit, voice thick with lust. “Good pet.”
You hadn’t noticed he was done. And the relief doesn’t register either. There isn’t much comfort in it to grasp, not with the pain still so numbingly intense that you can’t feel anything but the raw sting. 
He drops the belt to the floor and struggles his fly open, shoving the trousers down along with his boxers, stepping out of the heap in a rush – all the while sucking sloppy kisses on your shoulder and nape, mumbling praise. “Y’were so good- so good fo’me- gonna reward yah- my good fuckin’ baby- gonna make yah feel so fuckin’ good now-”
The flesh of your ass burns with welts and split skin, ugly marks already lining the once-pretty color with horrid shades of bruise-dark. Your throat’s ripped raw from all the wailing – only weeping harder when he takes your hips and sways you back to meet his fat erection.
He shamelessly rubs himself between your cheeks – frenzied with his mouth gaping, releasing a filthy shuddering moan while leering at the beautiful sight of his handiwork – feeling so proud he was blushing just from sheer sadistic enjoyment – even letting slip a breathy laugh now.
He hung his tongue out and let his drool drip onto the shaft, then placed another kiss between your shoulder blades. Gliding his tip down and, with the help of a hand, pushed it between your cheeks until it caught your entrance. 
A rugged groan blew hotly down your spine, and another cry was ripped from your chest as he sunk inside without a single spare second to waste.
He laid his face to rest against your back, nudging up inside you slowly with both arms wrapping around you like before – holding you snugly before he began the intimate pace, fucking only the deepest coziest parts of you.
“I love you, Sunshine- you’re mine- only one I give two shits about- rest can just fuck off for all I care- as long as I have you- right here… forever.”
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BNHA – Bakugou, Kirishima, Dabi, Hawks, Overhaul, Aizawa, Todoroki
JJK – Toji, Nanami, Geto, Gojo, Sukuna, Naoya
HQ - Iwaizumi, Matsukawa, Sakusa, Suna, either Miya twin
BLLK - Isagi, Reo, Kunigami
DS - Doma
CSM - Aki
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dizzyjaden · 2 months
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✧ GENSHIN MEN CRUSHING AND CONFESSING ✧
Pairings: Kaeya, Xiao, Tartaglia, Kazuha, Diluc, Albedo, Scaramouche x gn! Reader
♤ Summary: Hcs for how various characters go about crushes~ ♤ Warnings: No major warnings mostly fluff, Scara's kind of a jerk though. ♤ A/N: Omggg first real post! Reblogs would be greatly appreciated <3
Kaeya:
When Kaeya meets you, he is first enamored with your appearance. Therefore, the route he takes is confidence and directness to flirt with you, he never once hides his attraction. His sultry voice and brief comments about how infatuating you are to him tend to extract these wonderful little giggles from you. The sound never grows tired on his ears, nor do they fail to make his heart swoon.
Kaeya does not realize it at first, but your effect on him becomes stronger swiftly, and makes him rather clingy. He finds himself unable to focus on the tasks of the day and merely looks forward to seeing you. He follows his urges and seeks you out, passing through your most frequent spots in hopes of 'accidentally' bumping into you. When he finds you, he will spend as long as he can stalling for your time. Asking you questions about your day, showering you with compliments, whatever he can do to keep you talking to him without appearing too desperate. He would usually see idle conversation as a bore, but anything is interesting as long as it's your voice that's talking about it.
It's natural to be wary of Kaeya's approach. While his flattery is nice at first, you notice that his inviting posture and half-lidded gaze does not disappear when he is speaking to others. It makes you wonder if you are as special to him as he's led you to believe.
Put off by this, you brush off his efforts. He is confused by your indifference and his demeanor begins to melt rapidly. He seems nervous now when the two of you are conversing, even blushing and avoiding eye contact with you. Being rejected by someone isn't what scares him. Being rejected by you is.
It is noticeable, people often tease you about what a lovesick puppy you've turned him into, snickering about how they've never seen the slow walking, smirk wearing, calvary captain of Mond so stuttery and fidgety around anyone. It is difficult to stand firm on your previous notion that "he is just that way with everyone." Perhaps he does deserve a chance after all.
Kaeya has mostly retired his earlier mannerisms with you, not wishing to make you uncomfortable. That is until, you throw an unprompted flirtatious comment towards him.
It is experimental and casual on your part, but it successfully shakes him to his core. He realizes then and there he cannot let another day pass without you being named as his partner. This routine of playful flirting is as far as he would typically take it when interested in someone, it was the most enjoyable part to him anyways. But with you, it just felt torturous and drawn out. He craved so much more.
As assured as he appears on the surface, Kaeya is not very good at expressing himself romantically. He does not want to risk everything just yet, so he believes the best course of action is simply asking you out for drinks.
You are still not entirely sold that Kaeya will take care of your feelings, but you agree out of curiosity and give him the chance to prove you wrong. He is overjoyed at your answer and becomes rather excited, he quickly has to catch himself and snap his careless attitude back on, but you saw his eagerness.
For a while you are testing the waters with Kaeya, keeping him taking you on little dates and you are quick to learn that there is a lot more to him than meets the eye. There is a certain serenity, a content air about him when you are together, as if he felt everything had fallen into the right place. The way he looks at you is different than when you first met. It feels as though he truly sees you now.
Finally, you are the one to offer a romantic relationship to him. He has been waiting for you. He knows you have been hesitant, so he's intended to allow you to harness control.
His answer is not a word or agreement, but rather a glint of joy in his eyes, quickly followed by a kiss. When you reciprocate, he knows he finally managed to snatch your heart. How thrilled he is for tomorrow.
Xiao:
Loving you to Xiao is similar to being a cat on a marble floor. He is completely unacquainted with emotion as a whole, so when this stomach tightening, face warming, posture stiffening feeling begins to hit him, he is justly at a loss.
He absolutely despises the feeling, to him it translates as nausea or sickness. Why, you gave him an ailment! How dare you! And to think he still yearns for proximity with you.
That is another thing he despises, ever since you met the adeptus you are always begging to spend time with him and he just can't help but agree. You seem to find much comfort in his presence, he isn't sure why. His conversational abilities are stale, his tone pessimistic, his liveliness is nonexistent. Mortals have never connected with him the way you have, which only makes sense because it's absolutely fruitless.
But there you are, always asking him questions about himself that confuse him. Why did you need to know his favorite color? He didn't have one. They were colors, useless visuals.
You are a strange mortal, and so easily charmed or manipulated as well by the smallest of things. Perhaps that's the reason he ends up taking on such a protective role to you. He is always worrying himself sick about you. A pure spirited person like you is just bound to find themselves in trouble.
Despite the amount of inconvenience you cause him, he finds himself feeling so privileged each time he gets to be around you. He's aware mortals often express gratitude for one another, and his way of doing this is by giving gifts.
They are small gifts, flowers, leaves that are intricately folded into three dimensional shapes, crystals, whatever makes him think of you, really.
He doesn't expect validation for his attempts and the way you react each time catches him off guard. All smiles and hurried words of gratefulness, sometimes you pull him into a tight lung crushing hug, which he just hates of course. But he'll allow it. You're only putting yourself at risk choosing to be so close to him.
Something about you makes him need more of you. Every day he finds himself wondering about you, if you will come find him. He catches himself watching from the rooftops of Wangshuu Inn, waiting. Hoping?
And you're always right on cue. This gives him a sense of stability and routine, which was never important to him before. But now he feels safe in a way. It makes no sense to him, he's protecting you, not the other way around.
It takes him a long time to consider the possibility that he does enjoy your company, that this ailment, this curse you've put on him, is actually just his emotional response to you being nearby. When he identifies it, he isn't sure what to do with it. He's aware that humans like to put labels on each other to signify their connection, but he knows so little, he's too unwilling to ruin what is already there. Friendship with you is better than nothing, even if he feels the urge to just attack you with physical contact each time your hand grazes him.
He takes his time opening up to you about his feelings and desires, dropping small tidbits to enlighten you when you speak to one another. You manage to figure it out before he's really given you a proper confession, but you want him to work through it slowly, so you say nothing until the day he finally outright says it.
"I believe I am... Falling in love with you. So, what happens now?" Hopefully, you're willing to guide him through it?
Tartaglia:
Tartaglia really never expected to become so obsessed with you. His initial interest comes from your abilities in combat. He enjoys sparring with the people that are more similar to him in strength, it helps him improve. You're perfect for this. An equal opponent to help him boost his own abilities is all he saw at first.
What he feels during these sessions with you is pure thrill. He sees your relationship as equally matched opponents who agree that there is nothing to lose and everything to gain. Fighting you is never predictable, you are strangely good at catching him off guard. He becomes easily addicted to the feeling of freedom that comes with fighting you, the ability to let go accompanied by the trust that you could hold your own even if he did take it a bit too far. Soon enough, he's borderline pestering you for more and more matches.
Something he slowly finds out is that the two of you share a specific chemistry. The trust you build on the battlefield with one another fuels your comfortable compatibility. Being around you is just easy. The first time his feelings for you begin to rise, he notices immediately.
Just a certain angle of you, and he... Felt something. He knows it, too. This is when his pursuit for you begins. It is rare for him to have free time, and the majority of that is already occupied with your sparring sessions. So, he has to sacrifice a few of those to instead ask you to spend time with him in a more casual way.
He demands you clear your morning plans to get coffee with him, and you agree. Why not? You don't know much about Tartaglia other than his go-to defense techniques.
But oh, how hopeless he is. Tartaglia has never had a romantic partner before, too consumed in his work to care all that much. He gives you horrendous pick-up lines the entire morning until you beg him to stop. He thought he was doing so well, too.
Fortunately, you're more skilled with words than him and you manage to bring the flow back by distracting him with topics you believe are of interest to him. He is comfortable around you, and prefers casual conversation, so he will indulge. Slightly embarrassed by your reaction to his crude attempt at flirting, he decides it may be best to leave it be the way it is.
Determined nonetheless, he continues to hog your calendar with little meetings, he is transparent and unimpressive, which thankfully comes off as quite adorable to you. You've never seen him in this light before. You enjoy teasing him. However, there is only so much he can take before he has to finally state that he is in love with you, and needs to know if you reciprocate.
Begrudgingly, you accept his feelings, although you are disappointed you no longer get to keep him on his toes, his victorious smile makes it worth it.
Kazuha:
Kazuha is the textbook definition of carefree, when he develops feelings for you, he immediately accepts them and continues to live on contently. Whatever happens, happens! His behavior around you does not change in the slightest aside from going out of his way to be near you. Other than that, it's almost unnoticeable.
His reasoning for not confessing anything to you is plain and simple. He does not wish to put you in an uncomfortable position when he is not sure if you even want the same things he does. He isn't scared of being rejected or losing you, he just genuinely does not want to stress you out. He doesn't want to apply pressure to you, he just wants to bask in your radiant existence as much as you'll allow him. No worries, being just friends is good enough for him if it means you can live undisturbed by his inconvenient feelings of affection.
Kazuha has always been in touch with his emotions, more so than the usual person. He subtly expresses his feelings for you with poems and words of affirmation, he likes to make sure you know exactly how wonderful you are. But he never oversteps or puts too much of a spotlight on you.
Because he is just a romantic at heart, it's easy to assume this may just be how he expresses friendship. He's aware that he comes off that way, which is another reason he's so willing to give you so much affection and praise. He does like you, and he wants to show it, but he knows it's not out of character for him to behave this way.
Where his feelings for you really shine through is how protective he is. He doesn't like the idea of you travelling anywhere alone and usually offers to accompany you everywhere. He has faith in your capability to defend yourself but he finds comfort knowing he will be there if needed.
Kazuha always has good ideas when it comes to spending time with you, they are likely to involve nature. He knows where all the best places are, hot springs, water falls, fields of flowers, certain spots where the sunset looks just perfect, you name it, he'll take you there.
He enjoys giving you his attention, but even just being in the same room while the two of you are focused on separate tasks is equally enjoyable to him. He likes that there is never awkwardness or tension between you. Just an easy companionship. You understand one another without trying.
Kazuha only confesses his feelings to you when he's certain you want to hear about them. Whatever way you may choose to let him know, he'll act fast to ensure there is no confusion. He sees no thrill or excitement in allowing you to remain oblivious, and is very content telling you directly when he feels you have given him enough hints. It almost feels too easy, which is exactly what he intends. He doesn't want to see you struggle with your own feelings for even a moment.
When Kazuha officially enters a romantic relationship with you, he takes the transition very slowly to keep you comfortable. He does not immediately start smothering you in affection. It's a slow and steady process. It's not that he doesn't want to kiss you at any given moment, he just prefers that you take the reigns in that area so he's always certain it's what you want to do.
When you are with Kazuha, you can always trust that he will listen to you and cater towards your emotional needs. He is just so in love with you.
Diluc:
Diluc grapples with his feelings for you for a while, assuming they will just come and go. He is not the most knowledgeable about relationships and worries about his ability to be a good partner to you even if he does act on his feelings.
The idea of romance isn't something Diluc is a stranger to, but it's never been on the forefront of his mind. Charming and handsome as he is, it is only natural that he's been approached in the past by people hoping for a chance with him. He's never explored with any of those people, it just wasn't something he really wanted to do. But, you changed things. He catches himself imagining a relationship with you, wondering what it would be like to be with you in that way. The longer it goes on, the more painful it becomes.
When he's no longer able to deny his feelings, he takes a very polite demeanor. He's truly a gentleman, it's difficult for you to remember the last time you opened a door for yourself in his presence. If you happen to visit Angel's Share, you can rest assured you're never going to have to pay for anything.
Getting complimented by Diluc is rare, truthfully he just doesn't know how to phrase things. When he does compliment you, however, it's always genuine and heartfelt. Something about your manner, the way you carry yourself, your resilience, things like that.
Ensuring you are safe is the most important thing to him. He will always voice it loud and clear if he believes you are in an unsafe situation. He doesn't want to cross a line so he will only help if you ask him to. If you do happen to need his help with something, he will have it taken care of very quickly.
Diluc does not care to give you sugary compliments or be vocal about how you make him feel. He is more subtle than that. His affection for you is shown through how he remembers little things about you that might go unnoticed to anyone else, reminds you that he is there for you if you ever need him, never fails to show up for you when you do.
It takes a while for Diluc to gain the courage to tell you how he feels, but when he does get fed up pining after you, he is careful with his choice of words. He wants you to know that even if you reject him, he will still be there for you no matter what. You not reciprocating his feelings for you will not change your importance to him.
He genuinely does not expect you to reciprocate his feelings. When you do, he isn't sure what to do. He didn't have that part planned. He becomes a flustered mess on the spot but ultimately manages to pull himself together and swears his devotion to you.
Adjusting to a relationship with you seems to come naturally for Diluc. While he's internally awkward and so unsure most of the time, he becomes comfortable with you quickly as he realizes you do not judge him for this whatsoever. He is satisfied and feels secure knowing that there is nothing to prove anymore.
Albedo:
Albedo is not head over heels with you right off the bat. It takes a long time getting to know you before he feels anything. Of course, there was always something unidentifiable about you that interested him, but that's as far as it went until now. He isn't sure what exactly gave him this emotional response to you, but he's very curious about it.
Albedo is interested in humanity as a whole. He sees his emotions more akin to resources for his research rather than necessary tools to operate in society. So, when this crush on you blooms, it's an experiment to him. Obviously, he's going to need your assistance. He very boldly and plainly states that he is having these feelings and needs your help identifying and exploring them. It's the first time you've ever seen him clueless.
Explaining the concept of having a crush to him is nearly impossible. More often than not, crushes come out of the blue with no single explanation for them. Something about this he just cannot wrap his mind around.
It's a mission, but Albedo eventually gets it. Love, a sensation he had always pinned on biology seems to be much more emotional and complex than he could have ever anticipated. He reluctantly accepts your embarrassed explanation as truth. When he learns that you reciprocate his feelings, he is confused once more. Why didn't you just tell him? Nervous? Why? He insists you tell him when you feel something significant towards him so you two can conduct your research easier.
Albedo often takes notes about how certain things you do makes him feel. When you hold his hand, his face gets warm. When you laugh, he feels as though he is in a trance and forgets where he is. When you respond positively to his affection, he's eager to do those things more. Everything you do elicits a new reaction from him, it's all worth writing down.
He loves learning new things about you. Now that you've managed to put him in this position, it's like you are the most interesting thing in the world. What makes you the way you are? What crosses your mind the most? What is it about your favorite things that you like so much? Tell him everything in excruciating detail, please.
Albedo likes to share his interests with you too, when you offer to work with him on something involving alchemy, he is overjoyed. He likes to tell you about the ins and outs of everything involving life. He always wonders what you will think. Sometimes, you give him a new perspective on it that makes him reflect. He likes that about you. His work is usually rooted in science and logic, so it only makes sense that logical is the mindset he's lived with. But you bring such interesting ideas that he's never considered before.
He's realized he may be more out of touch with the world than he believed. If he did not know what love was before he met you, what else did he not know? Because of this, he will stay open minded and always consider your point of view when making emotion-related decisions.
For as long as you are with Albedo, he will always have something to learn and grow from. He sees you as very important to him in this way and will do his best to make sure you are content and happy in the relationship.
Scaramouche:
Scaramouche believes he has one purpose in this world. Divinity. If he is to invest himself in something, he better be getting one step closer to godhood in the process. His feelings for you are not necessary, he can't get anything of value out from them. That's the way he sees it. What irritates him is how badly he wants to indulge. Emotion is the very weakness that caused him to be cast out by his creator from the start. He isn't about to easily succumb to his emotion once more when his mission is the electro gnosis. But it is so very difficult to resist when you're around.
It's pretty much all up to you to initiate anything. It's challenging. The first time he saw your hand inching closer to his, he snatched it away immediately. Ever since these feelings of his emerged, every time you try to catch him when he's not busy, hoping to spend some time with him, he runs. He actually runs. He makes no attempt to hide it, either.
He knows if he spends too much time with you, his feelings will only grow. Allowing you to hold his hand or be near him is a slippery slope he's not willing to try. Why won't you just leave him alone? Why must you make it so hard for him to overcome his crush? Take a hint, already.
Eventually, you actually do take the hint and stop pestering him for his time. Good! Now he can focus on other things... Except he can't because now he's panicking over possibly having lost you. What if he hurt your feelings? No, he doesn't care about your feelings. You only ever annoyed him anyways. But for some reason thinking about it just stings.
Scaramouche realizes that one person causing this much trouble for him is absolutely unacceptable. You always being nearby was bad, but you leaving him alone is worse. He isn't going to allow you to steal his heart and then run for the hills, no way. He demands that you spend more time with him. You are flabbergasted, but he's glad to hear you agree.
Overtime, Scaramouche becomes more nervous about you. He grows attached to you and nearly everything he's grown attached to in the past abandoned him, it continues to haunt him to this day. He yearns for your affection, but having it would make the fall so much harder when you ultimately leave him behind. However, he's already so far in. He wonders if having a good thing for even a moment would be better than torturing himself over it instead.
With that, he tells you how he feels, how it's all your fault he's such a mess now, and that you need to make it up to him by being his partner. He's not surprised when you accept his feelings. It's the very least you could do, of course.
Over the span of your relationship, you'll notice how clingy Scaramouche is. It's like if you are not in his sight for even a moment, you're probably dead somehow. He'd never admit it, but you can tell he is paranoid and desperately requires reassurance. He's honestly kind of pathetic but he's yours.
Scaramouche remains unmoving on his theory that you will abandon him someday. He's been through it too many times to fully trust you straightaway. You're just gonna have to prove him wrong.
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midnightorchids · 11 days
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Hello I'm literally obsessed with how you write jason todd and how you invision him I binged your jason todd list and it's so good. I was wondering if you could write one where he has like a bubbly golden retriever girl who is obsessed with him and would leave any conversation to just go to him
First of all, you’re a literal sweetheart omg! Thank you so much for reading, I’m so glad you like my work! And second, I am so so so sorry for how late this is!!
This idea is so cute, Jason totally deserves a cute and bubbly gf!! This is a little bit long, but I hope you like it!!
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Jason had once again invited you to another one of Bruce’s galas as his date. Formal events were never your scene, but you couldn’t say no to Jason, especially when he’d ask so politely.
He’d stare at your face lovingly with his big doe eyes. His calloused hands would cup your face gently as his thumbs delicately grazed your cheeks. His bitten lips would turn into a small smile and you couldn’t bear to say no to his pretty face. That’s how the story always went, he’d stare at you innocently and you’d always agree to attend.
Jason hated attending galas, but he hated going to them alone even more. Hence why he brought you, he wanted you there for moral support. 
He always tried his best to be gentleman when it came to these types of events. His eyes never leaving you for a second.
A few years ago he made up a code for when you’d attend formal events together. You still remember the look he gave you when he explained the “rules.”
His gaze was gentle and his hands were laced with your own. He spoke in a soft, hushed voice, “okay pretty girl, listen up. One squeeze, means you’re done with the conversation. Two is for when you’re ready to leave. Got it?”
You almost never had to use the code though, somehow Jason always knew when it was time to head out.
Galas and formal events were always so consuming, exhausting almost. The politics and business were far too confusing. You never found yourself wanting to engage with most people as it felt awkward to initiate conversations sometimes.
You’d spent most of the evening stuck to Jason’s side with his hands firmly on your waist or tangled between your fingers. 
However, despite your views of the galas, you were a star. Men and women alike frolicked around you, like bees to a flower. You were always a source of wonderment— polite, kind and beautiful. 
You always greeted everyone with a soft, welcoming smile. You were bubbly and made an effort to look engaged in conversations when people approached you. Whenever you’d do this, Jason couldn’t help but smile to himself. It wasn’t your element, but here you were immersing yourself into these empty conversations for him. 
This particular gala felt similar to most of Bruce’s events. Noisey chatter and expensive gowns engulfing the room.
You were starting to feel tired and Jason was starting to feel antsy too. But he was cornered by three men in matching black suits and it was too awkward to leave. You and Jason rarely got separated at such places, but it had seemed to be just one of those nights. You took a seat at the nearest table, as the pair of stilettos on your feet were starting to cause an uncomfortable ache.
You stared into the crowd, a smile small on your face when you’d accidentally make eye contact with someone. You were in your own head, paying no mind to your surroundings when a tall man walked over to you. 
“May I sit here,” he said, pointing to the seat next to you. You nodded your head with a polite smile. 
Minutes go by and you notice the man trying to gather the courage to speak to you, but it seemed that every time he tried, he got nervous. You tried to ignore his behaviour and found yourself looking around the room for Jason. He still seemed to be preoccupied with the men.
Jason’s jade eyes met your gaze from across the room and his stern expression slowly morphed into a small smirk, making the scar near his lip more pronounced. 
He nodded along with the men, but his attention was on you. He stood up taller, trying to fix his posture. He ran a hand through his styled hair, making it just the right amount of messy. He looked good in his navy suit and your eyes raked his body. He looked pretty today and he knew it too.
A voice brings you back to reality and you look over into the direction of the sound. It was the man from earlier. 
“Pardon,” you asked softly and the man smiled. 
“Oh, I was just saying that it’s quite lively here tonight,” he said fixing his tie anxiously.
“It really is, it’s very loud tonight” you kept your answer short. The man looks up at you, his eyes fixed on your lips. 
“So I was wondering-” the man’s words don’t seem to register, you’re too busy looking at Jason. He was done with his conversation and was making his way over to you. You quickly get up in excitement.
The man still seemed to be talking and you find yourself interrupting him. 
“I’m so sorry but my boyfriend-” and Jason pulls you in by the waist, paying no attention to the man. 
“Hey pretty girl, I’m sorry I took so long,” he says. His voice low and sympathetic. You grin in response, happy to see your boyfriend again.
You wrap your arms around his shoulders, “let’s go home Jay. I’m so tired and my feet hurt,” you confess, pouting. 
Jason smiles gently. You look beautiful to him. He takes a strand of your hair and tucks it behind your ear and you can feel your face getting hot. Even after years of being together, Jason still had this effect on you. 
“Let’s go, want me to carry you,” Jason giggles and you smack his chest playfully. 
“I’m fine, let’s just leave,” he intertwines your fingers in his and leads you out the door. 
The man’s face looks stunned, he didn’t expect you to run off with your boyfriend mid conversation. 
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slut4thebroken · 1 month
Text
Home Improvements
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
Pairing | Emmett x wife!reader
Summary | Emmett does yard work while you’re outside tanning and you (both) get a little needy.
Warnings | Smut, semi public sex, humiliation, exhibitionism, a lil degradation, breeding, slight age gap, they’re so cute it kinda makes me sick lol.
Words | 1.8 k
Notes | I’ve been wanting to write some consensual Emmett stuff for a while so thank you to the anon who sent an ask to @kiss-me-cill-me who ended up tagging me🤭
Ao3 link | <3
Masterlist
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(Ignore the fact that idk how lawn mowers work lmaooo)
You were laying down on a lawn chair in your favorite bikini, sunglasses on and book in hand, but you weren’t reading anymore. You were completely focused on Emmett. The top two buttons of his shirt were left open and his already short sleeves were rolled up a little, showing even more of his muscles and tattoo in a way that made your mouth water. 
When you noticed he was standing still, you forced yourself to pay attention and realized he was looking at you. “What?” You called out. The engine of the lawn mower was still on, but it was quieter now that he wasn’t moving it. 
“I asked if it’s too loud.” Your heart fluttered a little— he’s always so considerate. 
“No it’s okay. Thank you for checking though.” You were out here first so of course he wanted to make sure he wasn’t disturbing your tanning/reading time. 
You continued watching him. Occasionally he’d stop and remove his hat to wipe the sweat from his forehead, but he was getting through it pretty quickly, much to your displeasure. 
“Hey, Emmett?” You yelled, hoping he heard you with how far he was. He paused, turning toward you, and when you waved him over, he obeyed instantly.
“Yeah?” 
“Aren't you kind of hot? It’s like 80 degrees out today.” You said casually, confusing him. 
“A little, I guess.” He shrugged. 
“Maybe you should take your shirt off. Feeling the breeze really helps.” You suggested, glancing down at your mostly nude body to show that you weren’t completely bullshitting that excuse. He chuckled quietly and shook his head a little, looking away from you with a small smile. 
“Sure, baby.” You knew that he knew exactly what you were doing, but you didn’t care. You got what you wanted and that’s all that matters. He started unbuttoning the rest of his shirt, then tossed it onto the second lawn chair. Since he already knew, you decided to close your book and put it on the small table in between both chairs. 
“You know, it also might help if you work a little slower too. Going fast means using more effort, and that means getting hotter quicker.” You knew it was grasping at straws and completely cheesy, but he scoffed a laugh and played along. 
“Good point. Any other suggestions?” 
“None that don’t involve public indecency.” You said teasingly and he chuckled again before walking back over to the lawn mower to continue. You could see now that his torso was glistening with a light sheen of sweat, only getting you more worked up. 
There was something so incredibly hot about watching your husband do completely mundane, domestic tasks like mowing the lawn and barbecuing. He also had a really bad habit of doing home self improvements… so at any given time, there was at least one part of the house that was unfinished. The plus side to his love of home diy’s was that he’d build you things for the house, like extra storage in a weird space where nothing could really fit, or a new table after you accidentally spilled paint all over it and couldn’t get it off. 
You frowned when he turned the lawn mower off and started walking over to you. “It looks amazing, honey.” You smiled, shamelessly eyeing his body as he sat down on the chair next to yours. You offered him your glass of ice water which he took eagerly, gulping down more than half of it in one go. “You know, I think you deserve a reward for doing such a good job.” Honestly, it was more a reward for you being able to sit here for half an hour without jumping his bones. 
“You hate when I’m all sweaty.” You could tell that he wanted whatever you were offering though. 
“Yeah… but that just gives us an excuse to have round two in the shower.” You smirked and his lips curled up into a small smile. 
“Come here.” He said as he laid back in the lawn chair, letting you climb onto his lap. His hands settled on your hips as you took off your glasses and his hat before finally kissing him. Your arms draped over his shoulders, letting you play with the hair at the nape of his neck. When he pulled back, you whined quietly. “I don’t think I can do yard work while you’re tanning anymore. I’ve been hard since I walked out here.” You choked out a laugh, then started grinding on his bulge, making his breath catch in his throat. 
“I agree. I’ve been wet since you started mowing.” You leaned down to kiss him again, still grinding your hips, and his hands dragged up your sides to cup your breasts, making you moan quietly. When he pulled your bikini down to rest below them, you let out a gasp that turned into a mewl when he leaned forward and sucked your nipple into his mouth. “Fuck- Emmett…” You said through a breath, tightening your grip on his hair. “People might see.” Even though you were in the backyard that had a wood fence all the way around the perimeter, there was still a chance. 
“Thought you said I deserve a reward.” He grumbled, moving to your other nipple to suck and nip at it teasingly. “And I want to fuck my wife on my own property. I don’t give a shit if someone sees.” You knew that wasn’t true. You’d have to stop him from commiting a felony if someone accidentally saw your body because of how jealous and possessive he could be. 
“I’m gonna be pissed if we get in trouble with the HOA.” A few years ago, you never would’ve imagined that you’d be married, living in a suburban house, worried about the HOA. Despite your words, you started snaking your hands down his chest and stomach to his belt. You managed to unbuckle it, even with how close your bodies were, then you opened his pants and took out his cock, stroking him to full hardness. 
“Fuck.” He hissed, kissing up your chest to your neck, then sucking the skin into his mouth to leave a mark. “Need you, doll.” He whispered, hips bucking up toward your hand, desperately seeking out your tight, warm cunt. Since you were just as desperate, you quickly pulled your bikini bottoms to the side and sunk down on his cock, making both of you moan. You sat down on him completely, then paused, needing to let yourself adjust. 
When his hands snaked around to your back and tugged on the string of your bikini, you gasped and tried to keep the fabric from moving away— at least with it below your breasts, you could quickly cover yourself if needed. Emmett didn’t seem to care about that though as he pulled it over your head then threw it somewhere to the side. 
“Fuck..” You said through a breath. The risk was making you infinitely needier and as you continued to get more turned on, you started to care less about someone possibly seeing. 
“Come on, baby. Give me my reward.” He gruffed. As if your body was completely under his command, you started rocking your hips, warming yourself up a little. You cried out when he suddenly slapped your ass. “You know what I want.” His voice was much harsher now, making it clear that this was a demand, not a request. So you started bouncing up and down on his lap, forcing moans out of both of you. “That’s it… Be a good little wife and use that greedy cunt to please my cock.” He groaned, slapping your ass again before moving his hands up to grope your tits. You were starting to sweat now as you panted, quickly heating up from the exertion. 
Getting bolder, he suddenly reached for the strings on both hips, then quickly pulled to untie them. “Emmett..” You warned— being completely nude was way too risky.  
“We can move this to the front yard if you’d prefer.” He threatened, making you falter. When you gave up on trying to stop him, he smirked and removed the fabric, leaving you fully bare. “What would people say, honey?” He murmured mockingly. “If they knew that you liked riding me in public, in broad daylight, without wearing any clothes.” 
“Emmett…” You whined, his words making you needier. 
“Oh, I know, baby… I know.” He cooed, brushing your hair behind your ear and cupping your cheek. “You can’t help being a whore, but it’s okay because you’re my whore. Isn’t that right?” 
“Yes.” You mewled, desperately moving your hips, chasing your release. 
“Say it.” His hands settled on your hips and he held you still, then started bucking up into you. 
“I’m your whore, Emmett.” You whined with a blush. He moved one hand to smack your ass as a warning, then immediately put it back on your hip. “I’m your whore!” You cried out, much louder this time. “Fuck— please make me come.” 
“Wait just a little longer, doll, I’m almost there.” He said breathily, tightening his grip on your hips almost painfully and bucking up into you so fast, you had to bite your lip to keep from screaming. Your breasts were moving embarrassingly with how hard he was pounding you, only furthering your humiliation… which only brought you closer to the edge. 
“Emmett.. please, I can’t hold it.” You whimpered, clinging to his shoulders, trying to ground yourself. 
“Go ahead, sweet girl…” He said through a breath. “Come for me.” You reached down to rub your clit and when your orgasm crashed over you, Emmett quickly lifted a hand to cover your mouth, muffling what would’ve been a mix of a scream and a moan. You stared down at him with furrowed brows as your body trembled with each wave of pleasure that rolled through you. 
He cursed under his breath when your orgasm made your cunt squeeze his cock almost too tight, sending him over the edge as well. You only had to endure the overstimulation for a few seconds while he continued bucking up into you, riding it out. His grunts and breathy moans were creating a new pool of arousal in your stomach, but he was done before he could get you worked up all over again. 
When he relaxed his grip, you accidentally sunk down all the way, making you both wince from the sensitivity. You were still panting and Emmett was in a similar state, but he snaked his hand around to the back of your neck and pulled you down into a kiss anyway. It was short, but still deep and passionate, leaving you even more breathless. 
“I’m going to look into building higher walls for the fence so you can start tanning naked.” His lips were curled up into a poorly concealed smirk. “Just so you don’t get tan lines, obviously...” He said coyly, making you laugh. 
I think I want to write more for them cause I really like their dynamic so send me some ideas <3
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polarisjisung · 3 months
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HOW DREAMIES ASK YOU TO BE THEIR VALENTINE
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pairings: nct dream x fem! reader
genre: fluff (established relationship in all except haechan's)
wc: 4k (it was meant to be shorter...)
warnings: one swear word (literally one I promise), mentions of shitty work environments but nothing in detail, not proof read, reader is implied to be shorter than jisung, use of pet names
notes: HAPPY V DAY 🥰🥰
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MARK - candle light dinner at home
Mark's job is his passion and his best form of expression has always been through music— most special occasions, like the day he'd asked you to become official or your birthday, Mark would write and compose a song especially for you— this time Mark wants to switch it up. He felt like it was almost too predictable for him to plug a pair of headphones in your ears and serenade you, he didn't want that. Mark believes in making each and every moment together special, and asking you to be his valentine deserved a little extra attention.
It's a known fact that Mark isn't to be trusted in the kitchen, it just isn't his forte, which is why you're usually the one cooking and he'd do the dishes.
Tonight he decides you deserve something special, it's a couple weeks before the 14th, and since the new years he's been taking some extra special training from jaemin on cooking up some of your favourite dishes. At first things started out palatable at best, but now, even jaemin could argue that they were delicious— that was the thing about Mark, nothing could beat his dedication and man was he dedicated to expressing his love for you.
You finish work late tonight and you're already planning on what take out to order once you get home, like you usually would, admittedly you don't actually like take out all that much, which is why Mark is all the more eager to see your reaction to his efforts.
The second he receives the text that you're on the way home, Mark is running across the kitchen and setting up the table, a romantic setting with a home cooked candle light dinner, something you were sure to like. Hes grinning from ear to ear as you step through the door, enveloping you in a bone crushing hug the second he lays his eyes on you.
"there's my pretty girl"
"here I am" you smile, kissing his cheek, mark can't shake the feeling that you seem a little down.
You seem tired, Mark assumes it was a hard day at work, and suddenly he feels the need to make sure everything is extra perfect.
There's some rose petals scattered along your dining table, pretty pink cocktails with a little edible glitter sprinkled along the top laid on each end of the table next to a beautifully plated serving of your favourite foods. Of course there's a small hand written note placed by your plate, a love letter with Mark's best fancy hand writing, lettering the words will you be my valentine across the envelope.
Mark waits for you patiently by the stairs, you were usually pretty fast at getting unready but Mark felt as though he was waiting for hours— though he didn't mind all that much waiting for you.
"It smells really good babe, I'm starved" you say when you see him leant against the bannister of your stairs
"let's not keep you waiting then hmm?" he smiles wide as ever, grabbing your hand and escorting you the table, it's not unusual for Mark to pull out your chair as you sit down, but you can't help but gawk at the spread in front of you, tears welling in your eyes
"you made all of this mark?"
he nods, proud of himself, though he's a little hesitant seeing the watering of your eyes
"you don't like it?" he wishes he didn't ask the question, watching you burst into tears at the confirmation
"I love it of course i do," you wipe the tears, feeling mark let his arms hang around your waist from behind you, "I just, today was hard and this, means so much to me"
Mark smiles, he realises you haven't noticed the pink and red envelope by your side, and he knows that you're feeling guilty about the tears— as much as he believes in talking through your emotions, Mark realises that's just not what you want right now and so he quietly presses a kiss to your cheek, wiping his thumb past where the tears had rolled down, and places the envelope between your fingers.
Had you not stopped yourself, you think you'd cry again.
"I love you" you whisper, voice cracking as you do, "of course I'll be your valentine" and that night, you swear you fell in love with Mark lee all over again.
RENJUN - going above and beyond
Renjun regularly buys you flowers, and each time there's an absolutely unbeatable look on your face, whether it's an intricate bouquet or a simpler bunch of tulips, he swears the smile on your face gives him reason to live, every single time. You're his muse, his biggest inspiration and to him a DIY valentines proposal only seemed right.
Thanks to your chronically online tendencies, you'd been fawning over those glitter rose bouquets to him all week, unintentionally for the most part, but considering the bouquet he'd last given you was slowly withering away in the vase you kept them in, renjun found himself scrolling through multiple tutorials, and ultimately, covered in glitter from head to toe the following week.
For anything concerning you, renjun likes to go above and beyond, he was a simple man for the most part but for you, simplicity just wasn't a feasible option in his mind.
He spends the whole month planning the perfect valentines proposal, and just to make sure that the seed of insecurity can't sprout itself in your mind, Renjun makes sure to ask you to be his valentine a month in advance.
It's a weekly date night like usual except its all the more extravagant. Renjun had made a reservation at a fancy riverside restaurant and chosen out the most perfect outfits for the both of you, it was no doubt he had a good eye, undeniably you also happen to look drop dead gorgeous in the simplest of clothes.
He knows he can't push you against the wall and smash his lips against yours, given the oppurtunity he absolutely would but considering the setting, he opts for expressing his thoughts to you instead
"you look perfect" there's a soft blush that creeps up on your face as the waitress guides the two of you to your table— you don't fail to take notice of how empty the restaurant seems
"renjun? you booked out the whole restaurant?" he nods, a sheepish smile lining his lips, he knew you didn't always like that he spent so much on you, but to renjun it was worth it, and this time you don't dispute it with anything more than an eye roll. He made you feel nothing short of a princess.
Renjun pops the question with full confidence, his hands tugging tugging at your fingers from across the table— the bouquet he'd made for you sitting across from you in a vase that looked oh so similar to your favourite, now shattered one
"Be my valentine?"
You'd been dating for years, of course you'd say yes, but it made your heart flutter every time, knowing he had made the effort to ask
"forever and always jun, you're stuck with me"
He'd have it no other way.
JENO - sweet and simple
Jeno loves you more than words can describe and really he doesn't think he can put it into words even if he tried. He already does so much for you on a day to day that even he struggled to find ways to go above and beyond when it comes to birthdays or valentines. He asks you about 3 weeks in advance, not too early but not too late, the perfect timing. It's a simple moment but it's special, jeno makes it special.
You'd been living together for a while, and jeno figured the perfect way to surprise you would be after a night out with your girls, since you refused to be home any later than midnight, saying you needed your beauty sleep. He wishes he'd gotten a balloon pump given the amount of pink red and white heart shaped latex balloons he'd blown up in the past two hours, but he knows your reaction will be worth it.
You knock against the front door, slightly tipsy, but nothing too major, eyes scanning over jeno who for some reason still seems to be in his dress shirt and trousers from work. He couldn't tell you he got to work straight away after getting home, wanting everything to be perfect meant he had no time to waste.
"there's my handsome boyfriend" you swing your arms over his neck and jeno let's a nervous chuckle escape, you barely notice the tension in his laugh as he helps you inside.
"did you have fun doll?" you nod against his chest, and jeno's eyes crinkle into a small smile
he's already taking your shoes off, knowing that kicking your heels off after getting home was an absolute must for you, you don't pay any mind to his actions, he always did this. Instead you're pressing a quick kiss to his cheek
"thank you" you'd say, or at least try to before jeno has you in his arms carrying you up the stairs to your bedroom, bridal style— now this, this was certainly new
"jeno put me down" your giggles resound through the house but jeno doesn't let up, smiling down at you in his arms
"I've got legs nono and they work just fine" he shrugs at your words
"yeah and your boyfriend has arms that work just fine too, don't have these arms for anyone but you doll"
safe to say you're a blushing mess until jeno finally places you down outside your shared bedroom door, letting you open the door yourself
A gasp escapes your lips at the sight of the large bouquet of flowers sitting on the bedside table, one practically the size of your head, maybe even bigger, filled with red roses, and a card alongside. There's a million balloons bumping against your feet and a small banner with jeno's handwriting reading "will you my valentine?" resting on your queen sized bed— jeno notices how your smile reaches your eyes
"so doll, be my valentine?"
"only since you asked so nicely" you say, and jenos lifting you up again, pressing a kiss to your lips
"think you just made me the happiest man alive"
HAECHAN - a heartfelt confession
You'd always been his sunflower, when things were tough you were there to help him through it all, his beacon of happiness and all things good in life. But haechan had never quite explicitly let you in on those feelings of his, you were supposed to be just best friends, recently that didn't seem enough for haechan.
He'd always had confidence, and despite the little slither of insecurity that lingers in the pit of his stomach at the possibility of rejection, he makes every effort to make the moment perfect, for you.
It was often your hangouts would take on a more date like form, this time however haechan had made the conscious effort of making this as close to a date as possible. He'd practically begged you to wear that beautiful baby blue sundress he bought for you for your birthday, and claimed the rest of it would be a surprise— placing a blindfold over your eyes.
It's only 5am, far too early in your opinion, to even be awake on a Saturday, something you groaned about just a little as you were warily following the pull of haechans hand.
"Hyuck are you kidnapping me?" you asked, only hearing haechan's laughter echo in your ear a little while after, you take it as a no and continue walking, the texture of the ground beneath you becoming softer and almost slightly wet, you can't help but let your curiosity grow.
"I could be in bed right now hyuck, pretty please can you tell me what we're doing?"
had it not been for the blindfold, you'd see the way his eyes roll and his nervous smile grew into an amused one
"you could be in bed any day sunshine, trust me this is a once in a life time thing" he hoped, in reality haechan had been convincing himself that rejection just wasn't an option, there was no way you didn't feel whatever spark this was between the two of you the same way he did.
Your scream cuts his thoughts out, and yet again, he smiles at the sight of you, hair flowing slightly in the breeze, your lip stuck between your teeth
"hyuck there's something on my leg— are you sure you're not kidnapping me? It's okay if you are just let me know so I can put up a fi—"
you don't expect to find yourself in a sunflower field, when haechan finally removes your blindfold.
There was no way the lee haechan would confess to you, quite frankly the love of his life, without serenading you. So there he is perched up on a chair that he'd set up before picking you up, strumming away at a guitar as he sings your favourite song.
"Sunshine will you be my valentine?"
You freeze when you see him stood in front of you, that angelic face of his only inches from yours— you nod.
"You know I love you right" this time, despite all the times he had posed the same question, you realise that the I love you means a lot more than usual
JAEMIN- spur of the moment (sort of)
Jaemin is the best boyfriend you could ask for and more, something he wants to continue to live up to, but considering he's set the standard so high, jaemin struggles sometimes.
He realises that not everything needs to be hugely extravagant and that as long as you liked it, jaemin did too.
That doesn't stop him from scrolling through Pinterest and tiktok for ideas, all of which he's already done in the last few years or thinks just aren't good enough. He settles on going to the store to grab some valentines essentials before making his mind up. That's where the teddy bear catches his eye, a practically 6 foot tall Teddy bare reading the words will you be my valentine in red cursive that had his heart beating out of his chest, it was just so cute, jaemin and to buy it.
The idea finally dawns upon him when he's finding a way to fit everything into the back of his car, those stubborn helium balloons trying to fly out, forcing him to hold them down with the two chocolate boxes he'd bought, with the fluffy brown Teddy bear at the centre. A little adjustment here and there, and if jaemin did say so himself, it looked beautiful, some finishing touches and it'd be perfect.
Everyday, jaemin picks you up from work, despite the fact that you have your own car, jaemin makes it a point to both drop you off and pick you up from work with perfect timing, you don't know how he does it really. But jaemin always manages to bring you your favourite coffee and pastry when you're feeling down, or always has painkillers in hand for the days you work longer hours, knowing you'll feel a headache coming on the second you walk through the doors of your office building. He picks you up with a smile every day, and, as always, exactly what you need.
Tonight after a failed business idea proposal and a heck of a lot of judgemental glares from the specific work colleagues of yours who didn't seem to like you, with no actual reason, you don't know how jaemin's going to manage it lift your mood, all you know is that he will.
"hi pretty" he flashes you a sweet smile, as he steps out of the car to take your bags from you
"hi jaem" you smile at him, he recognises its nowhere near as full and bright as usual and you're thankful he doesn't push on the topic
"I'll just put these on the backseat, do you think you can just grab a bottle of water from the back?" you nod at his request, reaching out to lift the trunk
Jaemin somehow manages to prove himself every time, it was like he bad a 6th sense, solely for you.
The soft glow of the fake candles jaemin had bought to set the scene lights up your face as he turns to sneak a look at your reaction. You swear you've never seen the back of his car so packed, full of your favourite things, makeup essentials, snacks, flowers and the most adorable fluffy brown bear. You barely take into account half of it, mind blurred with the sheer admiration you had for jaemin.
Like always he made your heart flutter, being his valentine only made your heart swell further.
"what's wrong?" he notices the way your eyes brim with tears, holding your cheeks between his palms, you don't waste a second to pull him close, placing your head against his chest.
"nothing, everything's perfect"
"so?" he raises his brow at the teddy bear before looking back at you
"of course I'll be your valentine nana"
CHENLE - kind of cheesy but crazy cute
Extravagant and over the top may as well be his middle name, chenle was a firm believer in go big or go home. When it came to you it seemed all the lavishes were multiplied ten fold.
Chenle asks you at his pool party just at the end of January. Who even has a pool party in January? well chenle does, he claimed it was to celebrate the longest month of the year finally passing, really it was just an excuse to get everyone together again.
And chenle loves to show you off, but he appreciates those one on one intimate moments with you especially. He knows not to ask when the party is in full swing, though he does steal you away for a few kisses. It's only when the party dies down and its just the two of you left behind that he drags you to the other end of his garden, to show you something.
"What is it you want to show me lele?" you ask, not noticing the candles spread across the area in front of you, chenle had placed them all there in an attempt to set the scene just a little.
There's still some music playing in the background, now a softer slower song echoing through the area, chenle let's his hand slip into yours
"may I have this dance m'lady?"
it was rare chenle was every this chessily cute, a red flush spreading across your features as you smile, nodding
You swear when your eyes lock that you've never been luckier, dancing in your damp swimsuit cover up with him as the soft breeze blows by you, his own eyes gazing down into yours so gentle.
"would you be my valentine?"
Chenle assumes the kiss you press against his lips means yes
JISUNG - late night picnic by the riverside
Now jisung wouldn't class himself a romantic, he was far from it. He was kind and caring and a total sweetheart but he wouldn't quite say romantic. This plan of his however, has him thinking otherwise.
You had always mentioned thinking stargazing was one of the cutest date activities, especially for a couple like the two of you who took so much interest in astronomy. Jisung sees it as the perfect way to ask you to be his valentine.
You're at the park, the same one you liked to take late night strolls on, sit on the bench and eat those snacks you bought from the convenience store just across the street at. It's pretty large and despite your frequent visits, jisung realises you barely make any use of the riverside that runs along the far end of the park— usually since the two of you get too tired to walk even half the expanses of the park.
It had taken jisung a good week and a fair few discussions with his friends,and even one with his mum, to figure out the best way to execute his plan, so that everything would be perfect. He'd packed a little basket of your favourite snacks and a blanket to place on the grass, and knowing you well enough, jisung had thrown an extra jacket over his outfit. You were bound to get cold.
"Jisung, how come you have a basket?" you ask, your fingers intertwined as you make your way down the gravel pathway, stars reflecting in your eyes as you stare up at him, fuck the sky, the only stars jisung cared about were the ones that shone so brightly at him, and only at him, in those perfect glossy eyes of yours. And if that's what stargazing was, jisung could do it all night long. The rest of his life in fact.
"Jisung?" He barely realises that he hasn't answered your question and when he does, still slightly dazed from your sweet stare he only shakes his head a little.
You don't question it further, jisung could be a little caught up in his thoughts (mostly you), a lot of the time, but you didn't mind
Only one small sigh and jisung takes it as a cue to throw you over his shoulder, carrying you to the other end of the park, he couldn't let you walk if you were tired now could he?
It's only a few weeks into the new year so the weather is still a little chilly, and jisung notices the way your hands grow cold in his, a knowing smile biting at his lips
"feeling cold?" you shake your head but jisung's shrugging off the jacket resting over his torso already and placing it over yours instead, the musky scent of his cologne only adding to the warmth you feel as you stare up at the sky above. You don't realise his eyes on you, that unwavering stare composed of nothing more than love. He doesn't mind, taking a soft breath to compose himself before popping the question.
For some reason jisung can't bring himself to do it. He finds himself far too immersed in the moment. As much as he'd always wanted to go stargazing, especially with you, jisung can't hope but keep his eyes on you, so mesmerised by the sites in front of you as you try and identify the constellations.
"That's the constellation of love isn't it sung? cass– um, cass something"
cute jisung thinks, as he follows your finger upwards, smiling to himself
"hmm not quite angel, but if I show you you have to promise me something?" you turn your head back slightly to look up at him, resting in his lap with his hands resting either side of your waist
"anything"
"be my valentine?" he asks you with that gummy smile and bright eyes, before letting his hands wrap around yours, guiding your index slightly up and to the right,
"cassiopeia, that's the one"
really and truly, he's internally freaking out at the lack of response on your side, but when you smile up at him with that toothy grin, he feels the warmth rising in his chest.
"hey valentine, do you think I could get a kiss?" jisung swears his smile couldn't grow any wider.
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bigfatbimbo · 2 months
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silly low effort Sir Pentious x reader headcanons —
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I don’t write much for him but I know that you Sir Pentious fans are malnourished and starving so eat the fuck up. Also he’s a silly guy so he fits right in with my silly low effort headcanons series. Let’s start off with the funny shit, this bitch is dramatic as fuck. Like say you bail on hanging out with him to go do something else, even if you actually have to do it. He will literally be so sad you’d think he was dying all over again (hah.) And it’s not even to make you feel bad, he’s just genuinely that sad. ”Oh…yes that’s okay, I suppose. I’ll just sit here and… and wait for you to get back. And think about us together… hanging out.” Like he’s so poutty in such a genuine way it’s actually sad because his eyes got all watery and his mouth curls down in a comedically wavey frowns as he crosses his arms and turns away from you. He’s literally so sensitive in general, actually. Like if you make one single harmless comment about how his hat looks crooked, he’s literally thinking about it for the rest of the day. You will literally catch him adjusting his hat every ten seconds and unconvincingly smiling at you and acting like he’s not that self conscious. More on that, he literally needs a crazy amount of reassurance all the time. Like he lives for your compliments. He’s so easily flustered by them too if you genuinely catch him off guard. Like maybe he’s just talking and you’re looking at him totally adoringly, and he notices and goes “What?” And maybe your like “Your smile is so cute.” He’s literally falling backwards, darting his eyes to the side, and not even trying to hide the way his face flushed. “Oh! My dear, i’m glad you—uhm— feel that way. Well, I have to go! Thank you, um, your smile… as well.” He’s also the clingiest mother fucker in the entire world. Like hats off to him, he should an award or something. It’s not even necessarily that he’s touchy or anything, which he is, though. But really he’s really just always lurking around you. He’s constantly following you around like a lost puppy, wherever you go just trailing closely behind. Whatever you’re doing, shit around the house, errands around town, he’s just happy to be by you. He’s also like a fantastic listener. Like he is processing everything you’re saying, and not even on purpose either. But like weeks from now you’re be talking about something and he’ll link it back to some other thing you literally brought up once. ”Oh that reminds me! Did you ever get your laundry machine fixed, because i’m quite good with mechanics so I could—“ And you interrupt him with like “what the fuck? I brought that up like one time a few weeks ago?” And he kinda just blushes and shrugs because honestly he’s not even trying to attain this much information about you, he just likes hearing your voice and in return pays special attention to everything you say. He likes hugs and cuddling so much but he’s so shy about asking for it! I see him as a big spoon or a little spoon, to be honest. Like big spoon because by nature, he’s such a giver. Absolutely anything to make himself useful is a must. So sheltering you and making you feel safe is his first priority. But when you spoon him?? He probably cries. Actually no, he actually cries. Because he is so not used to feeling wanted or deserving of love Vox i’m looking at you, you piece of shit it’s all your fault so when you just wrap your arms around him and pull him close, he can’t contain himself! All because you’re actively showing that you want him and love him, he’s tearing up and mumbling ‘thank you’s. I’m sorry but Sir Pentious would literally treat you so good too. Like he’ll do actually anything for you. Your laundry needs done? He’s on it. Your hungry? He’ll just slither to the store for your favorite snacks. Your back hurts? Have a massage. He lives to please. Especially with you.
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a/n — @chronically1online YEAH THATS RIGHT BITCH I DID THIS ONE FIRST. PFF. SHOWS YOU! WHATS UP?? WHATS UP NOW??? 😤😤
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loveinhawkins · 1 year
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Steve watches as Eddie drops the shield clumsily, just lets it fall into the grass. His hand—it’s not shaking, exactly, but there’s a delay to everything, to the way his fingers curl, like even the smallest movement takes so much effort.
Steve knows the feeling: when the whole world feels like wading through molasses.
Eddie comes to sit next to him, thunks the back of his head against the RV and winces. “Ow.”
Steve smiles. “We’ve got time, y’know.”
Eddie gives him a blank look. The shadows under his eyes are practically sunken in. “Time?”
Steve gestures out to the distance, where the kids are still playing, where Nancy and Robin are re-counting the supplies he’d noted down earlier. “Reckon you’ve got an hour or so, if you wanna get your head down.”
Eddie snorts. “Ah, sleep,” he says, with a wry smile. “What’s that?”
“Come on, man,” Steve says. “Gotta take any opportunity you can. Don’t want you collapsing before we flambé Vecna.”
Eddie mouths Vecna to himself a couple of times, blows out a breath. “God, my life… my life is fucking crazy.”
Steve chuckles slightly. “Yeah, tell me about it.”
“You’re used to all of this shit, though. Lemme guess, you can sleep just like that?”
“Hmm, not always,” Steve says, which… well, Eddie doesn’t know enough, he reasons, to realise just what an understatement that is.
Eddie sighs again. He closes his eyes, tips his head back against the RV—doesn’t look comfortable at all.
Steve moves closer, gently nudges Eddie’s foot with his own. “Hey.”
Eddie’s eyes open with prolonged, heavy blinks. “Hmm?”
Steve pats his shoulder in invitation. Eddie lets out an exhausted laugh. “Oh, my life just got even crazier.”
“What? It’s a perfectly good shoulder, dude, I dunno what to tell you.” Steve grins when Eddie keeps laughing. “It’s not bony or anything.”
“That so?” Eddie says, rubs at his eyes with a lingering smile. “You got good reviews?”
“Glowing. Five stars.”
Steve thinks about all the times he’s been a pillow for Robin or Dustin—Max, too, on the seldom few times he’s wheedled until she just took a damn nap, even if it was only for ten minutes.
He taps his shoulder again, goes quiet, more serious. “You’re dog-tired, Eddie. Come on, just ten minutes. Then you can trash my stupid shoulder all you want.”
Eddie just looks at him, considering. Then he huffs, glances upwards as if to say Fine, you win. “You drive a hard bargain, Harrington.”
And with some hesitancy, he tips his head down to the side and settles on Steve’s shoulder.
He’s tense still; Steve can feel it.
“Y’know, one of the best naps I ever had was ‘cause of you,” Steve says conversationally.
Eddie makes a disbelieving noise.
“It’s true. Uh, Winter ‘84, the period just after lunch, I think? Damn, can’t even remember what class it… Anyway, you were giving the teacher shit ‘cause of some test result, you just kept going, it was incredible. No work got done; I just put my head on my desk and slept, and no-one even noticed.”
Eddie chuckles, slumps a little more. “That’s…” And he yawns. “That’s depressing, man. You saying me going on and on was relaxing?”
“Yeah, like one of those meditation tapes. Except, uh, more aggressive.”
Steve feels more than sees Eddie smile. “You’re so dumb.” He hums tiredly, his head resting heavier and heavier on Steve’s shoulder. Voice small, he says, “Keep talking?”
So Steve does.
He keeps up a constant, one-sided conversation, speaking softly. Talks about what they’ll all do after this—mostly nothing, because everyone deserves a goddamn extended Spring Break, he’s decided.
And Eddie sleeps. He doesn’t twitch like Robin, and his head doesn’t nod forward like Dustin—like he’s reached such a level of fatigue that he can only be still. His breathing is deep and heavy in a way that Steve knows only comes from a rare, utterly dreamless sleep.
Steve just sits there for way more than an hour, doesn’t care when his back begins to protest at how unmoving he is. It’s only as the sun begins to set, as the group just begins to head back to the RV, when he reluctantly nudges Eddie.
“Hey. Hey, Eddie. Sorry. Time to get up.”
Eddie mumbles something, barely lifts his head before returning it to Steve’s shoulder. “Hmm… five more minutes?”
Steve sighs through a little laugh. Feels suddenly emotional for reasons he can’t fully explain. God, I wanna give you forever.
“Sure, yeah. Five minutes.”
But Eddie rouses after just a minute or two. Sits up and stretches. His eyes look a little brighter, his face no longer quite as grey.
“You were right, man,” he says lightly, gives Steve’s shoulder an endearing little pat. “It’s a nice shoulder. Gotta take good care of that.”
And his hand lingers there, holds on like he did when they were huddled round the Lite Brite. Like he’s saying Take care of yourself, instead.
Steve feels the warmth of Eddie’s hand as he shrugs. “You get first dibs on it, when this is over,” he says.
And he means Come back.
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getodrools · 4 months
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𐙚 BETTER THAN HIM: MEGUMI FUSHIGURO!
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IN WHICH, step son! megumi looks too much like his father the longer he trains, and it seems like he does have a type after all…
I 𝓲. I MDNI ୨୧ milf! reader. step cest. aged-up characters. age gap: reader; 30s + meg; mid 20s. mommy kink-ish. creampie. infediality. quickie. | WC –> 1.1k+ est ! !
NOTE. this is a repost from my old blog !! :p
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fuck.
YOUR WEDDED HUSBAND SURE did have some nice genes… watching closely how your stepson walked around the house so mellow; head sulking but chest exposed and puffed out, stacked muscles relaxed but yet, so toned of quiet determination — of a growing man willing and able to put in daily effort to achieve such a hefty and big…
big goal.
and you couldn't help yourself either, the obvious liking to the fushiguro blood was clear. megumi just gave off that same gruff and manly feel your husband does, especially the longer he stayed at jujutsu tech.
it's been almost a decade. and you can most certainly tell it took its toll on him – all that hard work and scars of stories running along barred skin was catching. it reminded how you'd kiss at toji’s... megumi, just got more… raunchy the last time you've seen him is all.
yet, megumi just had something more to him.
he's a younger version of your husband — almost identically now, but of course, more fit and kept up with, more endurance, more stamina…
but not any less experienced.
and it seemed like megumi had a good taste in women just like his father too. always catching sneaky eyes wondering down your blouse whenever you were cleaning – catching how he would hug you a lot tighter when you wore little dresses — mainly to impress your husband but that tight squeeze at your sides and bright smile before muttering out how lucky his father is makes you feel…
special.
that special feeling sparked up once again soon as your husband went to go get more booze and lottery tickets; megumi was beginning to help around more often – lifting heavier things that needed to be moved for spring cleaning. you'd catch yourself imagining how much of a hard time your husband would have given you about that… but megumi made sure you didn't need to overstep yourself with simple things. wanting to be more of a help for you, his mother idle, an older fine woman — how sweet he was.
“my father doesn't deserve you.” words that finally pinned your feelings together, and it quickly lead to bumping and a few vases to fall.
“mom–my..!” tepid lips almost quivering in sync with the shake of his timbre voice dropping an octave.
his cock curves just like his father's – slightly to the right with a pretty flushed tip, heavy balls too, feeling them hit right against your puffy clit at each rough thrust. and at each barreling plunge of his cock stuffing you full, he forces a low rumble of swears on your tongue to echo in your bedroom; even clammy hands to twist harder into the sheets your husband was just sulking on.
your needy cunt squeezed down hard around the base of his jamming cock, feeling how eager he was to fill you up the second his tip kissed your sopping entrance, never leaving your needy hole.
“oh! gumii! like that-- yes!”
there was one big difference between the two men. megumi had the stamina and understanding to make you feel beyond pleasure; he knows when to go faster or harder with deeper strokes, or how he understands when your hands would reach for mercy only to keep pounding that one soft spot, knowing you're only chasing that needed high.
not toji though, toji fucked you silly. he fucked you on his cock ‘till he came. no actual tender care, only a pounding until his problems felt an inch better. of course, toji made your tummy rise, no doubt, but you've always desired more than just to be filled up and left for some booze.
megumi knows what you've been wanting, what you've been craving for.
the feeling of being young again. that feeling of being fucked like some groupie at a frat house, and it makes him smile even harder watching how desperate you were about it; watching those pretty hips roll back with every grind – wordless heavy breaths in his ear of how good he was making you feel.
of how much you love his cock.
the long strides made you speak tongue. babbling on how much he makes you feel, and your wet tongue that hangs out twists. panting out how much he wasn't like his father ‘till he popped a messy knot of spunk in you.
the front door swings open, and heavy feet trail off somewhere in another room.
“y/n! there's glass on the floor! clean it up.”
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<– BACK: PINNED ౨ৎ NEXT: MORE MEGUMI –>
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eternity-death · 5 months
Text
Sunday HC’s
Some hc’s of my understanding of Sunday.
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★彡 Sunday is manipulative— something we already know— but a lot of people seem to forget that he has a genuine side to him too. He’s certainly no saint (despite portraying himself as one), but he isn’t an outright evil or cruel person either.
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★彡 It sounds like these ‘self-serving’ goals are more political than anything. But I could see him using his ability to pull at strings and influence others to his advantage when it comes to a romantic interest.
★彡 It’s nothing crazy, though. His feelings are genuine, and he wants this relationship to grow from something genuine too. Maybe he does have some tricks up his sleeve… but it’s all to get in your good graces. Get a little closer. He’s spent so much time admiring you from afar… he deserves this little reward for his efforts, no?
★彡 The worst he’d do is trash the reputation of someone he see’s as an obstacle (perhaps one of your exes, a relative, or someone who looks at you a little too passionately to be considered ‘friendly’). As the Head of ‘The Family’, Sunday’s got his hands on a vast amount of resources. It wouldn’t take much for him to dig up some dirt on his target and exploit it. If that person’s got a clean record, then he’ll just have to dirty it himself. Maybe a few life-ruining rumors surrounding that person begin to pop up, who knows. And maybe Sunday gains a little satisfaction watching the aftermath.
★彡 When it comes to his darling though, Sunday is nothing but kind and adoring. In a way, he puts you on a pedestal, and he thinks that the love you two share is something to be revered and worshipped. That being said, he takes his relationship with you very seriously.
★彡 Sunday doesn’t like lying to you, but he does keep you in the dark about some things.
★彡 For one, you’ve never seen his cunning, manipulative side before. But it has slipped through in conversations a few times, and he’s dropped enough hints for you to suspect that there’s more under that charming smile he always wears.
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gotham-daydreams · 5 months
Note
I feel like when batfam confronts reader it would be so weird for reader? Like these people they’ve tried desperately to get their attention and here they are talking to her and actually looking at her face? It’d be so overwhelming like imagine a group of strangers crowing you and telling you how much they love you and such?
It is! I will say that much, and even if the Batfam don't just show up all at once (since that would be a little silly and even more overwhelming for both sides), it is still just... odd. Especially when the reader assumes that something is going on, and doesn't even consider the idea that the Batfam is there to just see them, and kind of make sure that they're alive. Not until the 'idea' is shoved in their face, anyway.
Since- not only imagine seeing these strangers that you only know by name and not much else, suddenly showing up and trying to shove themselves back into your life (with the first one to see you just- not treating the situation well at all. And maybe is taking the phrase "forgive and forget" and trying to push it on you a little too much, with more emphasis on the 'forget' part). But just, finally trying to do something other than strive for what you've been beginning to accept is the impossible, and just having that supposed 'impossibility' shoved in your face like it's nothing. Like all of that struggle you went through to even see such a thing as impossible in the first place, was... nothing. Almost meaningless in nature as it is given to you so easily that it's sad. That you effort in the past was almost in vain.
That kind of thing can mess someone up, especially someone that tried so hard. It may make them think a certain way, and that will show as stuff does go wrong.
Then, look at the Batfam. To them, they don't even fully realize the weight of the situation, some of them don't anyway. They can't grasp how much time has passed and the toll it's taken on the reader just yet, because they're more focused on themselves in a way. Yes, they are worried and that is what gets them to look, but then reality is just- shoved in their face (well, more like slapped, but who cares about the details right now?). The reader has become a completely different person now, and that really shows. Not to mention that their attitude towards the Batfam is very different, and, of course, no longer that of someone who is striving to be a part of the family. They have an entire life outside of the Batfam that's basically entirely detached from them, and the family doesn't like that. Some just can't accept it.
Though, all will be revealed and shown as we go on :]
Still debating on make a 2nd teaser/sneak peak, since you guys definitely deserve it and I do still want to show that I've made good progress on Part 3, though if I do that it might be vastly different from the part itself. Lol
Anyway, thanks for sending in the ask, and I agree! It definitely is weird for the reader, even if they don't see everyone all at once. Though when they do see more of the Batfam, that weirdness will only grow, honestly.
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prettyboykatsuki · 7 months
Note
wyll whos nice and kind down to his bones but develops a nasty jealousy streak….tugs you back behind some secluded corner of camp to kiss you something fierce when he catches how others at camp look upon you…starts smoking a cigarette
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steadily yours | w. ravengard
✮ tags ; jealousy, established relationship, gn!reader, kissing / hickies, alcohol, silly and lovesick wyll
✮ wc ; 2k
✮ a/n ; ive thought about this ask for a week straight. its getting dire.
some minor spoilers for wylls romance like extremely minor and vauge!!! i am only just entering act three so pls dont spoil me but this take place vaugely post game lololol
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The Blade of Frontiers is a good man.
This isn't a title he's given himself, but one bestowed upon him. Through tales and songs all across the city and uttered from the very lips of his lover - Wyll Ravengard has always strived to be a good man.
He can't assert this by any measure, but he knows best his own effort. For the sake of the city, for the sake of his people, for the sake of love. He wants very little to himself, and he fights with every ounce of him. His heart is in the city, but his soul is with you. Between these two places, there's no amount of sacrifice or burden he isn't willing to bear.
Part of being a good man is being the master of your own desires. What other men do is none of Wyll's concern, but he's always been adamant about keeping firmly on the straight path. Wyll wants love properly, much like how he wishes the world around him would follow.
Properly, with order and justice and care. That's how Wyll has lived his whole life.
And he's believed of himself that loving that way came easier upon him than it did others, though that was nothing he felt like bragging about. It never felt difficult to abstain from the ugliness of anger or jealousy.
That was before you. And this is after, this is post having your meeting. Wyll has had a relationship or two. Puppy crushes that fizzled off as soon as Wyll's responsibility began to overwhelming. Like, less than love, really. This time it is love, and love is incomparable to any sensation in the world. Not the cut of a blade against his skin, nor the warmth of a sunset. No mortal feeling could really measure to love.
In the aftermath of loving you, Wyll supposes, there is an ugliness within himself that he never really knew about. But maybe it's only normal. What else could there be after he's encountered the most beautiful thing the world has to offer, beyond even gods?
There are three things on Wyll's mind, lately. One, that he loves you more than he thought possible. Two, that he's relieved about the state of affairs. And three, he's very tired of feeling this way.
Not that he's tired of loving you. Things just aren't so busy anymore, and that means there's always people around. The people of the gate love you, and you're more hospitable than you let on. The camp is busy, rife with life every single evening and everyone is always so keen on meeting you.
You're busy, rightly - laughing and drinking. Though you're not much for talking, you do your duties as a host and tell stories when prompted. You seem to enjoy yourself in the well-earned reprieve and you've really do deserve very bit of that love and attention that's come your way.
So, Wyll knows feeling this way is ugly. The jealousy is ugly, and Wyll's not entirely lacking self-awareness about it. Though before he could chalk it up to other things, lately it's impossible. He knows that the Outlanders who come seeking your company have no idea you're engaged - and that they're simply men who desire you for the name you've earned.
A warrior, a hero, a myth - Wyll does not blame them for their curiosity.
But he feels pitiful to be so stirred up about it anyways.
He drinks tonight, though the carafe of wine is mostly full. The others speak amongst themselves. Astarion drifts by him, stands and sways in motion in the cool night air with a smug look on his face that Wyll is too dazed to catch.
Astarion speaks first. The sound is muffled first, impossible to make out in his own mind before a pale hand waves in front of his face.
"You know I'll have to thank your darling later for allowing me to see such a rare sight," Astarion drawls. He's sober, though there's wine in his hand all the same "The Blade of Frontiers, seething with jealousy. A marvel."
"I wouldn't call it seething," Wyll replies, still only half paying attention. His eyes are glued to you. He can't bring himself to look away.
Astarion laughs, a little pity in his voice , though Wyll can't really make out if it's sincere or not.
"But you'll admit you're jealous? My, Ravengard, you've changed." Astarion says. Wyll doesn't bother asking what he means, since it's true in any case "Forgive those poor Outlanders. It's hard enough watching them pine for one half the lovesick couple as is."
Wyll sighs.
"It's fine," Wyll says, though even he can hear how much he doesn't really mean it "It's not like they would know. I suppose many people wear decorative rings these days."
"Gods, this is funny. Just listen to you, I mean really. What a delight. I have half a mind to call the rest over just to witness it in person. Unfortunately I'm not so charitable," Astarion says back to him holding in a laugh "Whatever will you do, Ravengard? Maybe you could kick up a fuss, or pick a fight. People brawl at these things don't they? Oh what a sight that'd be indeed."
Wyll ignores him, but he does heed the advice. He would like to do something about it, though there won't be any brawl. He steels himself, passes an empty cup off to Astarion who makes a shrill laugh as Wyll starts walking himself over the fire.
When he arrives there, the conversation has come to more of a relaxed lull. You notice him even engrossed in conversation, flashing him a smile so beautiful he feels a little blinded.
He gives you one in return, disarmed. The outlander who's been trying to win your attention all night goes to address you again and Wyll is quick to interject.
"Ah, sorry - would you all mind if I borrowed them for a minute?"
You give Wyll a look of surprise, your eyes crystal clear. He feels guilty almost instantly, but continues anyway.
"Is something the matter?" You ask, your voice softened. You've been drinking, from the way your words melt together.
"Nothing serious, just something I wanted to talk to you about in private. That alright? Promise I'll return them before the night is over."
"As long as you promise," Says the very same one Wyll's been trying to tear you away from all evening. You laugh heartily before standing to your feet. You're beaming at him, brilliant - and Wyll goes back to his usual pleasant self as he gives his goodbyes.
He says something about promising before he whisks you off, faithfully ignoring the knowing looks of party.
And he takes you to a quiet corner of the camp, a short trail bridging between the main plot of land. There's some sturdy scenery, and rocks large enough to shield you from the outside and give you privacy.
He's cornering you a bit, admittedly - but you seem happy to see him. As soon as you're alone, you have your arms around his neck. There's a delightful air of excitement around you and Wyll finds himself filling with all the fondness in the world.
The faint sour-sweet of wine lingers off of your lips. Wyll looks at you closely, studies your expression.
"Sorry, sorry," You apologize, suddenly more comfortable. A side of yourself that you only show to him. How funny it makes him feel "I was happy to see you, is all."
"I can see that," Wyll replies, smug - just barely. You bat your lashes, dazed. It's unlike you. Wyll likes it. "I'm happy to see you too. Always."
"Is it something serious?"
Ah. He's caught isn't he? In a way, he's tremendously lucky you're not too sober. He's sure you'll tease him about it later.
"No, I suppose not. It's nothing at all, I just," He stumbles uncertainly at what he should say "Well, I wanted to speak with you."
"You could've joined us!"
Wyll gives you a sideways glance.
"Could I?" He says, before he catches himself. He adds the next words apologetically almost "That outlander you've been conversing all night seemed rather rapt with you. I doubt I could've interjected anywhere without fumbling."
You look like you're processing his words, but it's not as if Wyll is going to let you.
Wyll often says to you that you make him forget himself, and there are moments like these he find that to be more true than ever. It is unlike Wyll - strong and chivalrous, poise and charming - to bear so heavy a feeling in his heart that he has to express it physically.
Only you could make his silver tongue submit to such urgent, base instinct. Wyll kisses you in the most unromantic way he knows. It's not very gentlemanly. A kiss to claim, to sink, to swallow.
He kisses hard, and your lips are faint with the taste of wine. You make a noise of surprise before you melt into his arms. The warmth of his body makes him feel like he's burning to ash. His tongue touches yours, warm and hot nipping at your mouth.
When you pull away, Wyll decides it still isn't enough to curb the jealousy. He lets his teeth drift down to your neck. Sharpened canines that scrape against thin skin. Wyll sucks hard, enough to make all the capilliaries break.
And you sigh - a pretty, welcoming noise. Wyll is marking you. He leaves one after the other, in admittedly visible places. But he's not thinking about, not really.
Not until your voice breaks, the sweetest edge of desire to your words. He's not so debased to do anything to you while you're more than tipsy. He pulls away from you, blinks at you candidly - before the realization dawns on him in full.
By the gods, what's wrong with him? Embarrassment hits him afterwards, abject dread filling him as he peers at the dark marks along your neckline.
Did he really...? Really?
"Wyll," You say, strikingly sober and delighted all of a sudden "Are you...perhaps...jealous?"
He rubs his face on his hand, suddenly flush, turning his expression to one side. He can't deny it at this point can he.
"I wonder if my life will be easier once our wedding is announced in print," He offers sheepishly. You laugh loudly, absolutely elated as you press your forehead to his. He does the same, of course "The ring seems to be no more than decorative to everyone."
"Wyll Ravengard, I would've never guessed in a thousand years you'd drag me here because you were jealous."
"Please forget my uncouth actions at your earliest convenience my love," He says, groaning "I might die of embarrassment otherwise."
"It's nothing to be embarrassed about. I get jealous over silly things all the time. I tell you as much."
"When you do it it's endearing. I'm meant to be a gentleman, yet in front of you - I lose my wits like I'm a boy no older than seventeen. It's maddening."
"You forget yourself?" You tease, characteristically. He laughs.
"A bit more each day, it seems."
"A little jealousy is healthy, Ravengard. Though, I'm not sure how we're going to return to camp in this state." You say, giving him a suggestive look "Perhaps we have a bit more to talk about here instead, hm?"
"We should be doing such things in a bed. Or a tent." Wyll insists. You chuckle like you know he'll give into you.
"Wouldn't it be more effective if that Outlander you're so jealous of saw me with a post sex glow, along with the hickies."
Wyll feels his skin prick with heat.
"You drive a hard bargain." He comments, voice soft as a whisper. You laugh.
"Maybe you're just an easy sell."
Wyll laughs heartily at that.
"Any one would jump at the chance for something so priceless, Hero of the Gate."
You give Wyll another smile, lovely and genuine - there's nothing smug about it. You kiss him tender, sighing happily into his arms. He finds himself helpless to his own joy.
"Then lets kill time here and head back,"
"Yes," He says, jealousy tucked away for now "Let's do that,"
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su8arandspite · 5 months
Text
Show Me
Summary: When Steve and Robin bail on you, you’re left alone with Eddie for the first time and you want him to teach you how to play the guitar. But you find it hard to focus. Or, alternatively, the one in which you find out why Eddie Munson keeps handcuffs in his bedroom and what those stains on his mattress really are.
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eddie munson x afab!reader, steve harrington x afab!reader (implied)
Warnings and content: 18+ mdni, smut, mentions of the ud, canon-compliant brief gore, eddie lives!post st4, alcohol and drug use, use of restraints, squirting, limited physical descriptions of reader (though I think I inferred long hair), no use of y/n, reader loves journey bc me too
A/N: i was absolutely drunk when i wrote this ngl. it’s shameless filth, and i am not sorry. this is my first good faith effort to write in second person, so y/n is used only sparingly. inspired by the fun, spicy lil details in eddie’s room. this was originally a steve x reader x eddie threesome piece but it was simply too long, so who knows, part 2??
Word count: 9.6k
divider cr: @animatedglittergraphics-n-more
It was a Saturday night tradition. After a particularly mind-numbing shift at Family Video, you, Steve, and Robin were always in desperate need of some fun. Really, it was a miracle that Keith even let the three of you work the same shift, given the especially sloppy work you produced when presented with the distractions of your best friends. As much as you loathed Keith, you supposed you might as well use his apparent –albeit inappropriate– fondness for you to your advantage. After the first time Eddie called the store during your combined shifts, the routine formed easily: the second that the last customer left and the door was locked, the three of you piled into Steve’s BMW to meet Eddie at his trailer for a well-deserved joint or some shots of tequila, maybe a bit of both if the day was particularly unbearable.
Tonight, though, your friends seemed to have other ideas. It was Robin who first broke the routine. She burst into the store with a guilty grin and a rushed explanation about the maybe-date she had with Vicki. And, okay, you could admit that you were happy for her. The excited rush in her voice and dusting of pink in her cheeks made it hard to be too mad at Robin. Beaming, she nudged you in the arm:
“Besides, who wouldn’t want a night alone with Eddie and this dingus?”
You turned to glance at Steve, hiding the flush this brought to your cheeks. A sinking feeling settled deep within your belly as you caught sight of the giggly girl leaning her torso against the checkout counter. She batted her eyelashes at Steve, twirling her hair around her finger. You hadn’t needed to hear them to know that Steve was asking her out on another date that you were uncertain he even actually wanted to go on. For someone who claimed to hate it, Steve sure did seem to have quite a bit of mindless sex. Not that you wanted to think about Steve’s sex life, or him with his shirt off or– No. You pushed away the image before it could fully form in your mind.
“Whatever,” Turning back to Robin, you rolled your eyes. “Now, are you gonna help me restock the shelves, or should we risk leaving it for Steve?”
Chuckling, she nodded and followed you to the stockroom to grab the carts filled with the new arrivals. Both of you took one and wheeled it off to different parts of the store. You hummed to yourself as you lugged the heavy container towards the next genre. It was in the middle of your whispered rendition of “Lights” that Steve finally made his way over to help you.
He shot you a grin as he gripped the cart, taking it from you. You eyed him skeptically, raising an eyebrow:
“Someone looks happy,” you teased. “Did my tip to recommend Pretty in Pink get you a date again?”
Steve’s warm laughter filled the store over the radio playing through the loudspeakers. “That obvious, huh?”
You shrugged. Casually, you tell him: “There’s this little quirk to your lips that gives you away.”
Steve stared at you for a brief moment, surprised, but averted his gaze before you turned your torso back to him and grabbed another VHS. Shifting his weight, Steve rubbed his hand over his chin.
“Don’t worry, kid,” said Steve, unable to avoid a grin at the nickname. He gave you The Karate Kid Part II to put in the new release section. “I promise I’ll still drive you to Munson’s, okay?”
“Wait,” You paused, whirring back to gape at him. “What do you mean, ‘drive’ me? Steve, please tell me you’re not bailing, too!”
Steve broke out into a sheepish grin. You tossed your hands up in exasperation. While you busied herself with visibly pouting, you missed the knowing smirk that Steve gave in response.
You blinked at him. Robin, you understood; she’d been dancing around taking this plunge with Vicki for ages, but Steve…? Well, you didn’t know why that bothered you, but you suddenly found yourself filled with jealousy towards the stranger with her forced Valley Girl accent and ugly purple top. Unwilling to admit that, you instead focused on the other idea stirring your nerves. Robin wasn’t coming to smoke that night, nor was Steve. That just left you... And Eddie. It would be the first Saturday Smoke Nights without all four of you there. 
The thought made your tummy flip. It wasn’t that you didn’t like Eddie– in fact, he had quickly become one of your closest friends. Still, something about the idea of spending time truly alone with him for the first time since, well, since the Upside Down, sent your heart aflutter. 
You thought about canceling the whole thing until everyone was free. Except, when you floated the idea to him, Steve wasn’t having any of it. 
“Maybe I should just call it a night, then,” you shrugged.
“No,” he shook his head firmly. “I’m driving you.”
Steve shot an odd look your way as he pushed the cart of tapes to be reshelved towards the Action section. You followed closely behind him, holding two tapes at a time and replacing them on the shelves.
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That was how you found yourself sitting on Eddie’s bed while he deliberated over the two movies you had swiped from Family Video to watch that night— Airplane! or Teen Wolf. Not that you could care less; it was only a matter of time before you and Eddie weren’t sober enough to really care.
After a moment, Eddie looked up from the VHS cases with a brow quirked. His voice dripped with sarcasm. “How do you expect me to choose between two such riveting pieces of cinema?”
You shrugged. “Sorry, we had to pick something that Keith wouldn’t notice went missing.” 
Eddie shrugged. “Werewolves it is, then.”
While Eddie held up the selected tape and carried it over to the VCR player, you rose to your feet. You adjusted your skirt as you stood, pulling the plaid material a little further down over your thighs. The white tank top that you had put on before work looked more see-through than you remembered it being without the oversized green vest of your employee uniform over it. With that shedded in the passenger seat of Steve’s car, the lacy black bra which you threw on that morning popped against the white.
“Hey, Eds,” you called out. ”You got any popcorn?”
Eddie spared you a glance, a finger suspended in the air over the play button. His breath hitched at the sight of you. He wondered if you knew how good you looked or if you meant to waste it on the renters at work. Or him, for that matter. Swallowing thickly, he told you about the Jiffy Pop he had waiting for you on the stove, and stared after you once your figure disappeared from sight.
When you returned to Eddie’s bedroom, snacks and drinks in hand, he was oddly quiet. You paused for a moment, your eyes scanning his face for signs of what was going on in that head of his. You bent to set the popcorn bowl on the floor by his feet and handed Eddie a beer. The tension in the room was palpable. It pushed you to plop yourself down in the space next to him. You watched the opening credits rolling on Eddie’s shitty TV as you settled into this new position, criss-crossing your legs. 
Your palms slapped against your thighs as you rallied his attention. “Okay,” you said. “I don’t know about you, but I’m ready to get wasted.”
Eddie snickered. “Okay, princess,” he cooed. “As you wish.”
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A delicious calm washed over your body as your high set in. The beer was shitty and slightly warm from not being in the trailer’s refrigerator long enough, but it was the best you two could scrounge up in Hawkins. It warmed you up and, more to the point, got the job done anyways. By the time you had a couple beers and half a joint in your system, the movie was over, and you felt more comfortable being alone with Eddie. 
Your fingers ghosted over the tops of the cases as you sifted through Eddie’s cassette collection. It took a while for you to find something familiar. You waited until Eddie was in the bathroom to switch the stereo to Journey so that he couldn’t protest the change.
You spun around the room, strumming your fingers in the air against an invisible guitar. It was in the midst of this little solo act that Eddie returned. He leaned against the doorframe so as not to disturb you, a small grin overtaking him. Eddie’s eyes flickered to your hips subconsciously as the movement swished your mini skirt upwards; the sight gave him just enough of a show to stir up tantalizing thoughts about the soft skin of your upper thighs and up until they disappeared under your panties. His impure thoughts brought a dopey smile to his face. It was then that you noticed his presence.
Upon realizing that you had been caught, your cheeks heated. A small squeak passed your lips. You stopped dancing abruptly, hair falling like a curtain over your face. 
“Please,” said Eddie. “Don’t stop on my account.” 
Suddenly shy, you shrugged. “Shit, you scared me! But,” Your lips curled into a demure smile, “I thought you were the rockstar, Eds. Wouldn’t wanna steal your limelight”
He shrugged, “I don’t mind sharing, angel.”
You hummed. Your cheeks burned with embarrassment as you blurted out unfiltered thoughts:
“You know, your hair’s almost as awesome as Steve Perry’s.”
Not this again. Eddie cocked an eyebrow, “Almost?”
You shrugged, a coy smile playing over your lips. “Just a little less silky.”
Pushing your hair away from your face, you narrowed your eyes at him. You sauntered over to the bed and collapsed yourself down onto it. Your eyes flickered from his hands to his tongue as he pushed it out to wet his lips. Getting comfortable, you shifted on the bed, tucking your legs up further underneath yourself. Your hands rested patiently over your thighs as you tilted your head. 
“Hey, Eddie,” you said. “Will you teach me how to play guitar? I mean, how else am I gonna become a rockstar?”
His lips quirked up at this. “Sure,” Eddie nodded. “Most songs are three simple chords, anyways.” He lifted his hands to strum at an invisible guitar of his own. You couldn’t quite focus on his explanation with his hands moving like that.
 “Okay, teach. I’m all ears,” you looked up at him with wide eyes, leaning forward with your elbows against your thighs and chin resting in your palms.
Eddie marched over to the wall where his guitar hung in its place of honor. He slung the strap over his shoulder, grabbed a stray guitar pick from the desk and placed it between his lips, before taking center stage in the middle of the room.
“Now,” Eddie began. “First, you’ve just gotta learn three simple chords: D, C, and G.”
He positioned his fingers, one at a time, over the strings in the correct position. The tip of his tongue poked out between his teeth in concentration. Even as crossfaded as you both were, Eddie wanted to impress you. After all, it wasn’t every day that he had a beautiful girl sitting on his bed, and he planned to milk the moment for all it was worth. So, he did his best to look cool and, if he was lucky, maybe you would ask him to teach you again. Eddie slowed the chord down to illustrate the correct posture. He played each of the three a few times then in succession.
“Then, when you put them all together, eventually, you get a little something like this–” Eddie strummed the iconic guitar solo of “Don’t Stop Believin’.” He thanked God for the liquid courage that allowed him to play Journey for you, like he hadn’t memorized the song just because he knew you were into them. Thank Ozzy for alcohol and weed or whatever it was that kept you from pointing out that Journey wasn’t exactly metal enough for Eddie’s usual taste.
And you meant to pay attention, you really did, but your brain turned into mush at the sight of Eddie truly in his element. You could think of nothing but the quick pace of his fingers. The thick rings he wore just on the cusp of his knuckles demanded attention. You bet they would feel cool against your skin, flushed and chest heaving, while he— pay attention. You swallowed around your cottony throat. White heat snaked up your spine as your mind wandered to thoughts of what else those skilled fingers of his could do. You shifted slightly in your seat. The room suddenly felt stuffy enough to run your mouth dry.
The sound of Eddie’s voice calling your name pulled you from her reverie. “Hmm?” Your eyes drifted slowly up to his face. “Are you even listening to me?”
You blinked your eyelashes up at him. WIth a faint smile, you tilted your cheek to rest against your shoulder. “Sorry,” you muttered. “Uh, can you show me that last one again? D, wasn’t it?”
“C, actually,” he corrected. “‘S something on your mind?”
“Oh, uh, I–“
You failed to think of an excuse, but you certainly couldn’t tell him what you were really thinking. Instead, you opened and closed your jaw, unsure.
Eddie let his hands fall to his sides. He raised his eyebrows inquisitively. “What’s a matter, baby? Cat got your tongue?”
The burst of warmth this brought to your cheeks gave him confidence. Eddie gently shrugged his guitar from around his shoulders and set it aside. You could only watch, eyes wide, as he strode your way.
He moved to sit beside you with his hands laid flat against the bed to support him, one on each side of you like a lanky cage, and his tall stature leaning over you. Eddie’s tongue peeked out to wet his lips. As he leaned forward, the guitar pick which he wore around his neck swung forwards to tap against the exposed skin of your shoulder.
When you didn’t respond, Eddie continued: “You wanna know what I think?”
With Eddie so close, you struggled to think of anything at all. The weed mixed with Eddie’s cologne— since when did he wear that?— and made your head swim even faster. You barely registered the words as they left your lips, “What’s that?”
Eddie sucked his teeth, a low rumble of a chuckle rippling through his chest as he leaned in to drop his lips to your ear. His hair tickled the skin of your neck. Gooseflesh rippled over you as his hot breath met your ear, “I think you’d rather watch”
You swallowed thickly. There was little time to compose yourself, though you tried, as Eddie leaned back against his palms, flattening them to give himself a better view. The expectant way in which he looked at you made you melt like putty under his hot, hungry gaze. Eddie reveled in the way you averted your eyes, embarrassed, and knowing you’d been caught. His big brown eyes gleamed. 
Lamely, you shoved at his shoulder. “Shut up.”
“That’s not a no.”
“I–“
You went to call him an asshole but lost your train of thought entirely. The quip died in your throat as a flash of something shiny in your peripheral vision caught your eye. It was your turn to smile devilishly at him as you realized what it was. 
Eddie frowned at the dip of the bed as you rose to your feet and stepped away from him. His gaze followed your saunter as you tiptoed over a copy of Heavy Metal magazine and a pile of cassette tapes to stop before the wall.
You lifted up the silver object with one finger. Turning to the boy, your lip curled devilishly into a knowing smirk. Eddie knew he should have been embarrassed or something, probably needed to come up with some plausible excuse for why he kept handcuffs in his bedroom. Maybe you would buy it if he said he was trying a hand at being an amateur magician? No, that was lame. He wanted to be a cop? Yeah, right! He certainly couldn’t tell you that he liked to use his hands in bed and, sometimes, he wanted to be the only one doing that. Could he?
“You know,” you lifted your eyes from the cuffs to meet Eddie’s. “My big brother’s a cop.”
The way that you twirled them around in circles stirred up something within Eddie. This, along with the plump pout of your lips, left Eddie suddenly very turned on. He swallowed thickly. “Yeah,” he said lamely.
“Well, then, Eddie, baby, you should know that he also taught me a little trick about how to get out of them.” You pulled at each loop of the cuffs until the chain was taut. “Do you want me to show you how?”
Now it was Eddie’s turn to stare and squirm. The suggestive tone to your voice rendered him speechless. He nodded dumbly. Your lips curved upwards devilishly. Mimicking his tone from earlier, you teased: “Cat got your tongue?
“Put ‘em on for me?”
Eddie swallowed thickly, Adam’s apple bobbing as he did so. He rose to his feet at your command. Your hands brushed as he took the restraints from the end of your finger. You blinked up at him expectantly as you pushed your wrists together in front of yourself. The cuffs bound your wrists as one with a resounding click. Eddie took a step back to admire his work. You looked so damn pretty with your hands all bound up for him, your wide eyes the icing on the cake.
“Wait,” Eddie shook his head. He gripped your wrists in one hand, stilling them before you had a chance to show him your trick. “Keep them on”
The mere sight of you in his cuffs made Eddie’s cock stir within his jeans.
“Perfect,” he muttered. The remark was more to himself than anything. It made you dizzy nonetheless.
Eddie didn’t know where his newfound confidence came from–the weed, maybe, or the shine in your eyes as you looked at him– but it was welcomed either way. Playful banter and a flair for the dramatics were his bread and butter, sure, but this? Flirting with you and unabashedly ogling you in his cuffs was something Eddie never saw happening outside of his perverted fantasies. Whatever pushed him to do it, he was chuffed that he had the courage to say what he did next.
His thumb and forefinger pinched your chin, lifting it upwards to force your gaze upon him. “You didn’t really want me to show you how to play the guitar, did you?” he clicked his tongue. “No, you wanted me to teach you what my fingers can do to you”
Then his thumb pushed at your mouth, tapping against your pillowy lower lip. He applied gentle pressure to it, just enough not to push its way inside. “Is that what you want, angel?” A whine rumbled deep within you. You could only nod dumbly in response. Eddie clicked his tongue, head shaking. “Sorry, what was that? Can’t hear you”
“Yes.” That was all the confirmation Eddie needed. He pressed his thumb firmly so that it opened your mouth for him. Your tongue lapped at the intruder, teasingly, as you sucked him in. Eddie all but melted at the sensation and his cock responded similarly, his dirty thoughts racing with desire for that mouth of yours.
He jerked his head towards the bed. “Sit.” You obeyed readily and sat on the end of his mattress, legs dangling off the edge, and spread your knees wide for him. 
Eddie bunched your skirt up with his fists and flipped it upwards on your hips. This gave him an eyeful of skimpy lacy panties that the skirt hardly covered to begin with. Christ. A whine escaped him at the filthy sight. He pushed your thighs as wide apart as he could by the knee. His hands ghosted over your skin from the knee up to the thickest parts of your thigh. He grabbed at the fleshy part of leg just below your ass.
He pushed aside your panties with his thumb to expose your wetness to him. A slow, shaky exhale escaped him as he dragged his finger through the slick and back up to rub sloppy circles against your clit. This made your breath hitch in your throat. Your mouth hung open with the silent whine threading to spill out. 
Eddie’s Cheshire Cat grin only grew as he stretched his long fingers out to hook into the fabric of your underwear, keeping as much contact as he could with your clit, until he managed to yank them down your thighs and around the left ankle. Swiftly, and so smoothly that you didn’t even notice, he tucked the lacy material in the front pocket of his jeans. For later.
“Kiss me,” your voice sounded like a true angel whispering to him. His nickname for you had never felt more apt.
Eddie’s fingers never ceased on your clit as he dipped his head down to press his lips against your cheek. He mumbled a slew of praises and compliments against your skin as he mapped a trail along your jawbone to your neck, pausing to suckle a deep hickey on the jugular and ghost against your clavicle. Only when his name passed your saccharine lips did he give you what you wanted and press his mouth hungrily to yours.
As you melted into his touch, you breathed a happy sigh against him. You kissed every last inch of nerves and desire away into his waiting mouth. Eddie swallowed it readily. His mind buzzed with the hazy static of lust and illicit substances until he could no longer hear Steve Perry’s voice thrumming in the background. He thought maybe his heart was going to take flight. Deep unfiltered want drove Eddie as he added a second and third finger to your clit and increased the pace. He blinked through heavy lids as you twitched involuntarily at the sheer pleasure.
From the moment he laid eyes on you, Eddie was a hopeless fool for you. You were exactly the beautiful, smart, warm breath of air that he needed. His heart ached for you with each brush of your hands as you both reached for a kernel of popcorn from the same bowl during movie nights with your friends. That had been enough for him up until now; Eddie would take as much or as little of you as you wanted to offer him. Even if tonight turned out to be just another one of his elaborate fantasies, he’d die a happy man—he seemed to have more and more vivid images of you in all your sunny glory as of late, the filthy thoughts flooding his mind in the quiet moments when he was truly alone and his hand wandered on its own accord towards the waistband of his underwear. He had it bad for you, and Eddie didn’t want it any other way.
Though you couldn’t reach your hands up to card through his hair as you so desperately wanted to, you caught his attention just the same with nothing but those sweet lips of yours. He chased after your touch as you pulled away from the kiss, head shaking just faintly. The buck of your hips against him spoke for you.
Only, instead of taking your lead, his touch left you altogether. Eddie stared at you with heavy-lidded eyes, awestruck. His fingers drew shapes over your clavicle, inching over to your shoulder. The band of your bra strap snapped as he lifted it and let it flick back into place. Eddie hooked his finger under it once more but made no further moves.
“Can I?”
“Please,” you nodded.
Eddie pushed the straps off your shoulders, taking the tank top down with them. Gently, he propped you up enough to get the fabric up and over your head, tossing it somewhere behind him. With the dip of his head, Eddie leaned down to kiss the swell of your breasts just above the lace of the bra you wore, as he reached behind you to unclasp it once and for all. Before you knew it, that too was long forgotten. You laid bare on Eddie’s mattress, covered only with your skirt that was still bunched up around your hips.
He cupped your face in his hands. Your stomach flipped at the thrill of feeling your own arousal against your cheek. His voice and his grip forced your eyes on his.
“You’re so fuckin’ pretty,” he marveled. “A goddamn vision.”
There was an unmistakable fondness in his voice that made you feel warm inside with an emotion you couldn’t name. It only grew as he snaked one hand down your stomach and towards your core again, the other kneading your breast.
Ripples of pleasure rolled through you as he returned his thumb to its rightful place against your clit and pinched your nipples, rolling each between his fingers one at a time. You whimpered, hips bucking, and craving more and more of him.
The grin on his lips only grew at your silent begging. He lifted his hand, spitting on his fingertips, before bringing it back down to your dripping sex. It made an obscene sound as he gathered some of your arousal for good measure, toying with your entrance.
Slowly, Eddie pushed the very tip of his middle finger inside of you. His ring finger soon followed, and he twisted his wrist so that his palm now faced the ceiling. You writhed under him, craving more, but were unable to find it; his other hand gripped harshly at your hip to keep you in place. Only once he had you good and still did he push his fingers deeper. The thick rings he wore were cool against the fluttering heat of your body. He curled his fingers deliciously upwards. They only just brushed against your most pleasurable spot at first, leaving you just out of reach, teased.
You babbled at him. The sound of your own voice begging sounded far away, “Eddie, Eds, please”
Who was he to refuse you? “Well,” Eddie tutted. “Since you asked so nicely…”
Eddie knelt with his thighs pushed up against the mattress. He was close enough that your Achilles’ tendon brushed over the tattered denim of his jeans. But you wanted him closer yet. He still felt so very far away. Just as you mustered the core strength to pull yourself up without the aid of your hands, he moved his free hand from your hips to splay over your lower stomach, just above the pubic bone. It forced you back against the mattress, dumbfounded. You were fully at his mercy as he worked to fuck his fingers into you. They pushed slowly inside of you, down to the base and out again at a snail’s pace. He pushed them in faster, this time, only to the knuckle and curling them.
The added pressure of his hand on your stomach coupled with the speed of his movements ensured that every move hit you in a way that left you breathless. Eddie seemed to know your body like it was his, quickly finding the spongy area inside you that made your mind empty save the pleasure he was giving you. It was an electric spark that spread from your very core and threatened to burn you to pieces. You gasped at the sensation��� a weak little sound that faded out into silent cries of pleasure.
And oh was that just the thing Eddie had been needing to hear all night. His own breath quickened as he doubled his efforts. The pace at which he thrusted his fingers was brutal and delicious. You mewled, unable to form a coherent thought that didn’t include Eddie and his magic fingers.
Each curl of his fingers caused the exposed skin under his tattoos to flex, and it looked so hot. Your eyes were drawn to the way his veins popped with the movement, and the sight nearly had you drooling. Every one of your senses was overwhelmed with him: his touch was unlike anything you could have anticipated, the shaky, aroused breaths that escaped him and the pornographic squelching sound of his fingertips each time he thrusted them into you made you dizzy, and you turned your head to whine into the mattress and breathed in his scent like it was pure oxygen. Eddie was everything. 
Your toes curled and your legs began to shake. “Eddie, ‘m gonna– fuckk, I–“
“Yeah?” He tutted. “Let go, sweetheart.”
His soothing voice and unrelenting cadence made it difficult for you to focus on anything but the overwhelming pleasure coursing through your body. The tugging warmth of your orgasm that had been building surged until it was all-encompassing; intense pleasure slammed you all at once. Every ounce of tension left your body as you came around his fingers.
Eddie kept his fingers tapped against just the right spot as you rode out your orgasm. He lazily rubbed the heel of his hand against your very sensitive clit. Unable to help himself, he palmed at his erection with the other as he watched you come undone. 
You’d had orgasms before, but never anything remotely like what Eddie was doing to you. The familiar knot in your stomach was there as it built, but it was accompanied by something else— another type of pressure that was foreign to you. He left you no time to dwell on it, because you were coming before you could even really process it. When you finally did, it was a release unlike any other.
You hardly noticed it at first, but once you started to return to your senses, you felt something wet between your thighs that hadn’t been there before. Leaning up, you tried to get a glance at it. Your cheeks burned, slightly embarrassed, as you saw what a mess you’d made. The bedsheets and—oh, God— Eddie’s forearm and parts of his pants were soaked. 
When you managed to look at him again, locking eyes, he was smug. There was no sign of disgust or surprise anywhere. He looked proud, almost.
“Eddie,” you said, at a loss for words. “I don’t know what… I’ve never done that before.”
Only you weren’t entirely sure what it was that Eddie had done to you, just that it was the most intense euphoria in the world.
He smiled at you in a way that made it hard for you to feel insecure. Like you were a work of art; his masterpiece, even. Eddie rubbed his clean hand against your cheek, gently stroking your skin with his thumb.
“It’s okay, angel,” he reassured you. “You’ve never squirted before?“
You hesitated. The term sounded vaguely familiar to you, like maybe you’d once heard your girlfriends whispering about it, but you didn’t think it was real. Hell, no other boy you’d ever been with had even come close to making you orgasm at all, so this was entirely uncharted territory. It left you wondering where the hell Eddie fucking Munson had been hiding those skills all this time.
“No,” you shook your head. “But it felt really good.”
“I’m glad,” he pressed a gentle kiss to the blooming hickey he sucked on your neck earlier. “Just wanna make you feel so good. Such a good girl.”
He breathed in your scent like he was trying to commit it to memory. Eddie stayed with his face nuzzled in the crook of your neck for only a moment. He was leaning back up all too soon.
Finally, Eddie pulled his fingers from you and held them up to the light. His lips curved as he admired the way your slick glistened, thick as he separated his index and middle fingers. A deep hum left him as he lifted his hand to his waiting mouth and licked them clean. 
“You taste so fuckin’ amazing,” he groaned.
“Yeah?” You asked, though your head still swam with the haze of your orgasm.
“Think it might be my new favorite dessert,” he confirmed.
Your heart flipped. Though you assumed he was only teasing, Eddie knew just what to say to render you speechless. You couldn’t get enough.
Eddie lowered himself onto the mattress next to you. As he propped himself up by the elbow, he brushed some hair from your face. His umber eyes were dark with lust-blown pupils.
Though your cheeks still burned, you grinned mischievously as a memory creeped up on you. It was probably something you should have forgotten, what with everything you had all been through since March of 1986, but you could still hear Eddie clear as day in your mind, see his doe eyes widen as he glanced nervously at you over Robin’s shoulder:
“Those stains are, uh… I don’t know what those stains are”
Gently, you nudged Eddie to get his attention, as if there were anywhere or anything else in the world that it would be.
“So,” you locked eyes with him. “That’s what those stains are, huh?”
Eddie chuckled. It was a full belly laugh that had his shoulders shaking in amusement. He shook his head fondly at you.
“Yeah,” he said. “That’s what the stains are.”
Well, that and bong water, —mostly the latter— but he thought it sounded more impressive if you thought of him as some sort of sex god.
You hummed in recognition. 
Eddie smiled at you. He gripped the hem of his shirt in his fingers and toyed with it, chewing on his lower lip. 
“You know,” he said. “I’m feelin’ a little overdressed here, don’t ya think?”
“You are entirely overdressed.”
You’re unable to fight off a smile. Eddie sat up again and reached to pull his shirt up and over his head. It fell in a heap beside the mattress. As he started on his belt, you let your eyes take in the marvelous sight of him.
His skin was pale and his long torso seemed to go on forever. The black ink of his tattoos and healed scars popped against his flesh, the largest of which spanned across his stomach, just over the naval, and blended into the beginnings of his happy trail.
Eddie and you had never discussed that fateful night in the Upside Down. It was easier that way than to admit  your nightmares were still mostly plagued by the overwhelming fear you’d felt as you and Dustin carried his limp body back to the base camp in that stolen RV and in the weeks you spent nursing him back from the brink of death. Eddie’s heart slowed to a pace so imperceptible he swore it had stopped and, for the briefest of moments, he was on the other side. He knew he should have died that day and that, really, he supposed a part of him had. 
Perhaps for the first time since then, Eddie didn’t feel nervous or hesitant to reveal himself, scars and all, to someone else. Because it was you, after all. You, who had cursed at him through teary eyes for his monumentally stupid need to play hero and had somehow managed to remain calm enough to stem the bleeding, then scoured through the vehicle for something to sew him up with. It had been you who shooed Dustin out of the room, at least enough to shield the boy from the gruesome sight of your shaky hands as they crudely stitched him back together well enough to last until Steve and Robin and the others returned to regroup. He knew then, even in his weakest state, that he was in trouble because the flutter of your eyelashes made his sluggish heart ache.  As he looked at you now, your eyes blinking up at him, Eddie realized he never stood a fighting chance when it came to you. He supposed it was impossible not to fall in love with you, the angel who had saved his life, as he drifted in and out of consciousness. And every moment since then. He had called you his angel ever since.
You kissed a trail from the scars by his chest, down his tummy, and the one that disappeared under his boxer briefs. His skin was warm but erupted into goosebumps at your touch. Eddie’s breath caught in his throat as you craned your neck further down to peck an open-mouthed kiss where the head of his aching cock strained against the fabric.
Suddenly, he’s stopping you. Eddie’s hands cupped your cheeks, gently pushing your face away from him. The flash of hurt in your eyes must have been clear because he immediately softened his gaze, stroking your face lovingly with his thumbs.
“What’s wrong?” Confused, you glanced from the tent in his groin back to his eyes. “Do you not want to?”
“No!” Eddie cut you off, maybe a little too quickly and too loudly. He cleared his throat to recover, playing it off as a cough. “No, believe me, I really do. Fuck, if I’m bein’ honest, angel, I’ve wanted you since the second I first saw you in that boathouse. But, right now, I just really want to taste you. It’s a need, actually”
Eddie wasn’t done with you yet. No, tonight, he wasn’t letting up until he made his sweet little angel come against his lips, clenching around his fingers, and, finally, around his cock. Only then, after he took everything you had to give, would Eddie allow himself to come.
This confession rendered you speechless. A meek oh was all you could make out. Though he smiled down at you, a hunger swirled in his eyes that had you feeling he wanted to swallow you whole, and God, you wished that he would. 
Even so, he made no further moves to act on it. His hands itched as he slid them from your face, down your chest and waist, before gripping at your thighs. He tilted his head, blinking expectantly at you. 
“So, uh, can I? Eat you out?”
“Fuck, yes,” you nodded. “I’d be offended if you didn’t, now.”
Eddie didn’t waste another second. He pressed himself down against the mattress, lowering his face closer to the apex of your thighs, and tightened his grip on your flesh, swiftly yanking you closer to his waiting lips. They were wet and warm as he peppered kiss after kiss up the insides of both your upper thighs, nipping at the soft skin there. 
“Don’t be a tease,” you wiggled your hips to chase his touch.
His breath hit your sopping core as he let out a quiet chuckle. Eddie nudged his nose foreword, just barely brushing it against the hood of your clit, dragging it down to your wetness.
He hummed, “Now, where’s the fun in that?”
“Eddie, I swear to–“
Your empty threat dissolved as he relented. Eddie shifted his grip to spread your lips open for him, thighs now caged in the crooks of his elbows. It’s when he wrapped his lips around your clitoris that the shock of pleasure shot through your spine and took the words from you. He sighed into your core and let himself push closer to it, almost smothering himself. 
Eddie intermittently flitted his tongue out as he suckled at your clit. His mouth worked at the perfect rhythm and if you’d had the presence of mind to listen past the hammering of your heart in your chest, you would have been able to make out the tune he was humming; ‘Open Arms’ was surely for your benefit. 
With his arms wrapped tightly around your hips, you had no choice but to ignore the urge to buck your hips against him. You got only what Eddie gave you, and good God, would you take every last ounce of pleasure hungrily.
After what could have been minutes, hours, or mere seconds —you couldn’t tell— Eddie broke his lips’ seal from your clit and let his nose take their place against it as he breathed out. He’s only off of you long enough to let out a low rumbling chuckle, asking: “Hm, what was that, angel?” 
But you’re unable to answer him, because Eddie’s reattaching his lips to you and sucking with more intention than before. You couldn’t remember what you were saying even if you wanted to. Your mind was wiped of everything outside of him. Eddie Eddie Eddie. Your thoughts were a chorus of his name and him only. Eddie!
You had little presence of mind left to be embarrassed about it, as your second orgasm snuck up faster than the first. You were already close, barely able to contain your whines and sweet sighs any longer. Eddie seemed to sense this, and shifted his right hand from his death grip on your thighs—which would surely bruise, you noted with a twinge of excitement—and prodded two of his fingers at your entrance.
He licked lazily at your clit between words, remarking, “Such a good fuckin’ girl.”
He plunged his fingers inside finally, curving them again to find the spot he’d discovered earlier. His lips had only just returned to their rightful spot around your clit when your release hit you.
 Eddie didn't let up on his suckling until you were still again, a broken sound falling from your lips. You pushed at his head as best as your restraints allowed, trying to wriggle away from the overstimulation. “‘S too much, Eds,” you pleaded.
He pulled himself away with a wet smack of his lips. Eddie wiped your arousal from his face with the back of his hand, though not without sucking it clean off his fingers. The grin he gives you is a delicate mix of devilish and heavenly.
Eddie crawled up the bed, long, alabaster torso towering over you as he planted his knees at either side of you. His fingers fanned out over your face and cupped your cheeks.
“You okay?” His eyes softened.
“More than okay,” you assured with a breathy giggle.
“Good,” Eddie said.
You could barely think. Not with your body still humming from your earth-shattering orgasm and not with Eddie’s big Bambi eyes blinking at you with such softness and deep affection. It made you feel like you were being seen for the very first time. 
He couldn’t help the smile on his lips as he dipped his head to press a kiss to your lips. It was gentler than before and he tasted of your slick, a fact that elicited a soft groan from your chest. Eddie swallowed it up. His guitar-calloused thumb stroked your cheek as he titled his head to deepen the kiss. It was passionate, sensual, and every brush of his tongue against yours stoked the butterflies in your tummy. There was a certain sweetness behind it, too, that you weren’t used to. The type of need that Eddie was oozing ran far deeper than lust alone.
It was Eddie who broke the kiss, panting to catch his breath and nuzzling his nose against your cheek. His cheeks swelled as he broke out into the fondest of smiles. You softened under the weight of his heady gaze.
Your entire body ached for him. Eddie may have been content to focus on your pleasure all night long, but you thought you might die if you didn’t get the privilege of returning that favor. 
Growing impatient, you were desperate to make Eddie feel good. You straddled Eddie as smoothly as you could, settling yourself in his lap. You locked eyes with him and kept your gaze steady as you pressed your dripping core harder into his erection, slowly dragging it for friction as much as his grip would allow. A low growl came from him as he blinked up at you with his wide chocolate eyes. A greedy hand grabbed at your ass, as the other lifted your wrists to his face. Eddie pecked soft kisses to your knuckles, the heel of your palm, and just above the metal cuffs. He pulled back just enough to see you properly, still stroking your hands with his.
“You’re gonna be the death of me,” he told you. Eddie’s smile never wavered. It had been a joke, but he meant it; part of him wouldn’t mind if you ripped his lovesick little heart from his chest and never bothered to give it back. He would let you with a smile.
He was painfully hard; you could feel it with every rock of your hips against his. The deep ache within him felt like your own, like every throb of his cock was your heartbeat.
“Eddie,” you whined. “Baby, please, I wanna make you feel good now”
Something inside his head short-circuited at the filthy words leaving your sweet, vanilla-scented lips. “Jesus fuckin’ Christ,” he muttered to himself. With a heavy swallow, Eddie nodded. He gripped your hips tightly.
His thumb drew mindless shapes against your skin. “Think you can handle more?”
“Mhmm,” a breathy moan escaped you at the feeling of his cock twitching beneath you.
“Tell me if it’s too much, ‘kay?”
You gave a single nod, “Yes. I will– just, please, Eddie, I want you to fuck me.”
Eddie planted a searing kiss to your lips. He pulled you from his lap and set you down on the bed next to him. You watched with awe as he finally pulled his boxer briefs off and kicked them away. A rush of want swam around your head and in your core as you took in the heavenly sight of his nude form for the first time. 
You truly weren’t prepared for just how perfect he was. The tip of his dick was a needy red, painfully erect, and dripping with pre-come; the length curved to the left and was just the right girth.
The kiss he pressed to your lips once he’d fully stepped out of his jeans was sweet and short. He kicked the fabric aside and leaned further into you, gently using the force of the kiss to guide you back against the mattress. Eddie’s left hand pushed your cuffed wrists over your head, where he wanted them, while he pumped himself a few times with his right.
“Ready, angel?” He asked. 
This time, Eddie accepts the slow nod you give him. He tapped his tip against your swollen clit, lips curling devilishly at the whine that escaped you. Tease. Eddie gave you very little time to feel sorry for yourself before giving you what you needed.
With one slow, measured movement of his hips, Eddie thrusted fully forward. He planted his palms against the mattress to hold himself up and get better control. His breathing was shallow and ragged, eyes squeezing shut, at the feeling of your pussy adjusting and stretching to accommodate the curve of him. The stretch was a sweet ache, and you’d never felt so full. If you’d thought Eddie was everywhere before, he was the only thing now.
His hips pistoned into you at an unrelenting pace. After so long of ignoring his own need, Eddie chased any relief he could get. And this, burying himself balls-deep inside you, was better than any drug in existence; it made him feel like a virgin all over again. A string of expletives left his lips that would have confused you if you had enough presence of mind to pay attention.
Eddie lifted your hips further up, twisting just so to ensure every pump slammed into you at just the right spot. It knocked the breath out of you until your lungs burned with every gasp and whine. The curve of his cock was made for you, made to fit right against your g-spot with every pass. 
You thought of running your fingers through his hair. But, of course, when you pulled at the handcuffs, you were unable to get at him. A deep chuckle rumbled in Eddie’s chest that stoked a fire within you and reminded you exactly why you had plucked them from their hook in the first place.
Your third orgasm loomed at a rate that must have been some sort of record. Eddie had you too cock drunk to care, though. It was like you were floating and a lucid part of your brain wondered if the heat of your pleasure had set you ablaze and you were watching yourself from above. 
Eddie lifted himself away from you enough to get a good look at every inch of you— your plush lips parted in pleasure, brows furrowed, eyes glistening and pupils blown wide, the bounce of your breasts in time with his thrusts, the way his hand looked as he splayed it wide over your lower stomach, meeting just over where his cock hit your walls. He did his best to commit every last detail to memory.
His thrusts became sloppier, nearly stuttering, with the way your walls tightened. 
“You close?” He managed, but it wasn’t much of a question. “Come on, good girl, come f’r me, just one more. That’s it”
As if your words summoned it, you spasmed and contracted around him with your third and final orgasm. Your back arched clear off the mattress like a woman possessed, weak and held up largely by Eddie’s tight grip and where he was still fucking into you. The squeeze of your cunt around him was too much, and Eddie let out a guttural groan of your name as he came. His come was warm and foreign inside you.
Eddie collapsed onto you, the last of his strength he had been using to keep both of you upright finally giving out. His face nuzzled into the crook of your neck, panting into your sweaty skin until he caught his breath again. 
“Well,” he muttered. “Fuck. That was… fuck.” You chuckled in response and Eddie lifted his heavy head, not willing to miss a single second of it. “Yeah,” you agreed.
Eddie slowly leaned down to your bound wrists, pressing a kiss to the sore skin. 
“Here,” he helped you slowly sit upright in the bed. He pressed one last peck to your temple, then finally peeled himself away from you and his damp bed sheets. Eddie glanced around his room, ready to retrieve the key and free you, when your sweet voice pulled him back to you.
“So,” a playful smile spreaded over your lips. “You still wanna see that trick?”
Eddie hummed. He turned back to you, pulling his boxers back up to rest lowly on his hips with his eyes locked on you. His heart skittered as you blinked up at him.
“Ta-da!” you lifted your now-empty wrist to show off.
Your trick was impressive. Sure enough, you had freed your wrists from the bounds and the second cuff dangled from the chain, tapping against your forearm. If anything, it only made Eddie’s heart swell with the knowledge that you could have gotten yourself out of it at any time but you hadn’t, for him.
“Color me impressed,” he said.
Chuckling, you leaned in to him. Eddie keened, melting against the gentle touch of your newly-freed fingers against his face. Slowly, you pressed your lips to Eddie’s. The kiss was lazy, slow, and heavy. Your lungs burned as she breathed him in.
The unmistakable glow of headlights shined through the curtains as someone pulled up to the new Munson trailer. It was enough to break the delicate bubble of you and Eddie’s post-coital bliss.
Eddie grumbled, lifting a hand to shield his eyes. You lifted yourself to pull the fabric aside, taking a peek at who had pulled up. Panic inched up your spine as you recognized the car. 
“Shit,” you whispered. “Shit, Eds, it’s Steve.”
The headlights cut off, and you sprang to action. In your haste, you hadn’t paid any attention to where your clothing ended up. Your knees nearly buckled under your weight as you stood. With burning cheeks, you hushed Eddie’s cackle and could practically see his self-satisfied smirk without turning to look at him.
With Steve only moments away from catching you in far too compromising a position, you yanked your shirt as far down your hips as it would go and decided that would have to do; you couldn’t see your panties anywhere and you had no time to hunt them. Eddie, who seemed to have no trouble redressing himself, tossed your tank top to you. It was just over your head as you heard three telltale raps at the door to the trailer. 
Eddie’s long legs allowed him to rush ahead of you and lead the way to answer the door. His grin didn’t dull one bit.
“Relax, angel,” he assured you. “It’s just Steve.”
You really weren’t sure if that made you feel any better or it was somehow worse. Eddie’s touch burned as he slung an arm around your shoulders and you weren’t able to think about it any longer. 
“Harrington!” Eddie beamed at the younger man as he stepped inside the trailer.
Steve offered him an odd look at the uncharacteristically chipper tone but pushed past the pair of you and continued his beeline to the kitchen. He grumbled under his breath as he yanked open the fridge. Steve snatched the last cold beer and slammed it shut after himself.
You shared a brief glance with Eddie. Raising an eyebrow, you asked:
“I take it your date went well?”
Steve groaned again. Even his hair looked sad, drooping, as he shook his head. He opened the can and took a heavy swig. It told you everything you needed to know about his latest failed attempt at romance.
“That bad, huh?”
Eddie’s laugh is maybe a little louder than he meant for it to be, but there was no malice in his voice. Only then, as he set his beer down on the counter, did Steve properly look at you and Eddie for the first time since he arrived. It took him longer than it should have to notice something was off. When he eventually did, though, Steve’s jaw lowered. He blinked at his friends a few times as if he had somehow imagined it. 
You were worse for wear. Where you had it neatly styled when he dropped you off, your hair was tousled and messy, tank top askew on your torso. The thin fabric did little to hide your pert nipples from his sight and, holy shit, was that a hickey? Your lips were kiss-bitten and swollen, a matching set to Eddie’s, complete with spit and the gloss of your vanilla lip sheen. But all of that was nothing compared to when his gaze lowered towards your thighs. Steve struggled to look away, though he knew he should, but he was mesmerized with the sight of Eddie’s cum dripping down your thigh.
Only then, when he could still clearly see the single handcuff clasped around your wrist with its counterpart dangling at your side, did Steve say anything.
“It smells like sex in here.”
When no one responded, Steve trudged on:
“Were you two just– oh!”
Steve’s chocolate eyes widened slowly with the realization. 
You glanced over to lock eyes with Eddie. He barked out another laugh, his dimples popping with amusement.
“Sorry, Stevie,” he teased. “You just missed the show.”
Your fist didn’t even budge him as you smacked Eddie square in the chest for his lewd comment. He gently caught your wrist and snaked your fingers around his to hold your hand.
“Wait,” Steve flitted his eyes between you and Eddie. He called your name softly. “Is this why you didn’t want me to drive you here?”
“No!” You shook your head. “No, I just, uh, didn’t want you to feel like you had to or anything.”
Steve knit his eyebrows. “You’re never a burden, kid.”
Steve’s pretty face pinkened as he took in your disheveled appearance once more. You pulled uselessly at your skirt, as if it might grow longer. He hadn’t noticed he was staring until you squirmed under the heat of his gaze.
Eddie slung his arm around your shoulders easily, pulling you close. Cocking an eyebrow, he called, “Aw, Harrington, you’re just jealous I got to her first.”
“Wait, what?” You glanced between the two boys, brow furrowing.
The glances they shared conveyed some secret conversation you didn’t understand. You raised your brows, asking one of them to clue you in on their little secret.
Steve didn’t deny it when Eddie spoke for him:
“He thinks you’re pretty,” he batted his eyelashes at you, teasing.
“Fuck off, Eddie,” Steve whined. He turned to you, dipping his chin shyly. “But I, uh, yeah.”
It was just a fact. You were beautiful, and Steve didn’t see why he should have to pretend that was a secret.
Your stomach flipped. 
“Okay, well,” you stepped out of Eddie’s grasp and towards Steve. You picked his beer up from the counter and drank from it. Gently, you squeezed his shoulder and grinned. “Thanks for the ride, Steve.”
Steve’s pretty face darkened to scarlet, sparkly eyes blinking rapidly. He swallowed thickly and muttered out a weak response. You had them both watching your every movement as you carried the beer towards the living room.
“Now,” you called over your shoulder. “Who wants to watch a movie?”
You smirked into the beer as the boys scrambled to race each other to the couch, arguing amongst themselves about who got to sit next to you. Mentally, you decided you needed to thank Robin for ditching you tonight.
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lovebugism · 7 months
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Hello there! For a blurb, could I request either Steve or reader making a mixtape for the first time for the other? Also, hope your brain is able to get some good rest!
ty for your request anon! — steve's shy gf loves to spoil him 'cause he deserves to have nice things (established relationship, fluff, shy!reader, 1.1k)
fictober (㇏(•̀ᵥᵥ•́)ノ)
When you first started dating, Steve learned two things about you, very quickly.
One, you’re not great at expressing your feelings. And two, you love giving him gifts.
Both are equally hard for him to stomach.
He hates when you don’t tell him how you feel — when you choose to suffer alone rather than let him in on your suffering. It doesn’t matter how many times Steve tells you that you’re not burdening him or that he’d swim oceans to appease you. You keep to yourself most times, very rarely vulnerable.
What you lack in your ability to communicate, you make up for in gifts. And not the “here’s something shiny because I’m trying to buy your love” kind of gift his parents always got him. What you give him is far more sentimental. The full-blown, hand-made, holy-shit-this-took-a-lot-of-effort sort of gift.
You paint things for him when you have the time. He’s got a dozen tiny, vibrantly colored easels decorating his desk and dresser. You make him jewelry, too, out of pretty pastel beads. Steve wears your initial, along with various hearts and stars and circles, on his wrist every day. 
You wear his, too — on your pulse when you visit him at Family Video. 
Closing shift, Saturday night, a billion other things you could be doing, and you’re spending it with him. It makes suffering the graveyard shift a lot easier on his heart.
You’re there for half an hour before you work up the courage to pull your latest present from the pocket of your jacket. “I made you something,” you tell him, finally, somehow quieter than the already quiet store.
Steve’s smiling before he knows what it is. His rosy lips curl into a crooked smile. His tired honey eyes blink up at you. “Yeah?”
He sits behind the bulky computer, slouched in his swivel chair and barely focused on the catalog he’s supposed to be mining through. You’re sitting on the counter beside him, legs hanging off the edge. His right hand lazes on the computer mouse while his left idles on your leg — long fingers curled around your calf, thumb rubbing absentmindedly along your shin.
You nod sheepishly and motion to the cassette tape in your hand.
“What’s this?” he wonders as he takes it from you.
“A mixtape,” you answer with a curt shrug. ‘Cause it’s easier than telling him, “Oh, it’s just tape I spent hours making you so I could compile every song that could maybe come close to describing how much I love you, but even that came up short.”
Steve’s still grinning when he reads what you’ve written on the front of it. 
best songs ever for the best person ever, you’ve scribbled on a sticker you decorated with pink and red hearts. The bottom reads, everything i can’t tell you.
“Babe…” he hums quietly, lovesick eyes flitting up to you. “This must’ve taken you forever…”
Again, you shrug and duck your warming face down to your lap. “It wasn’t that hard…”
Steve’s hand is still caressing your leg, squeezing softly along the back of it. He knows it took work. He knows you won’t admit to it. So he just smiles — a tiny, tight-lipped thing that makes his dimples peek out.
“Thank you,” he mutters with a honeyed fondness. “You know you never have to give me anything…”
“I like doing it… You deserve to have pretty things,” you answer sheepishly.
His grin widens. “Well, I got the prettiest thing right here, so…”
He rises from the cushioned seat to stand in front of you, back aching and legs groaning in protest. 
Your nose scrunches in disdain at his words.
“Too cheesy?” Steve squints and positions himself between your legs. His palms are wide and warm as they settle contently on your thighs.
“A little.”
“Sorry,” he apologizes, though he doesn’t really mean it. He just uses it as an excuse to press a kiss to your burning cheek. When he pulls back again, he’s still nose-to-nose with you — still smiling and sparkling at you. 
“I get off in, like, thirty minutes. Maybe I can drive us to Lover’s Lake, and we can listen to the tape and stargaze or whatever. You know, all the stuff people disgustingly in love do.”
“Then why would we do that?” you quip, still shy in your way.
“Very funny.”
You conceal your grin by pursing your lips to the side. “I don’t know… I wasn’t really expecting to listen to it with you.”
“Why not?”
“‘Cause it’s embarrassing.”
“No, it’s not!” he protests, almost offended you would even say so. “What’s gonna be real embarrassing is when I sing all the songs at the top of my lungs to you.”
“Oh, god…” you groan quietly to yourself. 
Sometimes, you think social anxiety is scared of Steve. He’s not afraid to get stared at, especially not when it comes to you. It’d be way too easy for him to roll down all the windows, turn up the radio, and belt all the cheesy love ballads you’ve compiled for him.
Steve grins, pink and crooked. “Exactly, baby.”
“Just promise you won’t make fun of me,” you murmur, gaze turned down to where your anxious hands fiddle with a rogue thread hanging on the hem of his shirt. You say it in a lilt like you’re joking, but you’re still sort of serious.
“When have I ever made fun of you?”
“You know what I mean…”
“Yeah, I know what you mean,” he echoes tenderly in return. 
Because he does. 
You’re trying to tell him that you don’t want to talk about it. You don’t want him to analyze all the lyrics and make jokes when one of them is particularly cheesy. You want to pretend like you’re just listening to the radio and not like every single song is handcrafted specifically for him and the way he makes you feel.
“I’m gonna be too busy kissing the life outta you to say anything, anyway,” Steve promises, wide hands squeezing the outsides of your thighs.
Your face flares hot again. You think if he pressed another kiss to your cheek, you’d burn him.
“Promise?” you press.
“Oh, sweetheart,” he huffs, almost sympathetically, already leaning closer to you. “You’re gonna have to pry me off of you by the end of the night.”
Before you could promise him that you’d never because you want him to kiss you forever and ever and ever, his lips are already on yours.
He kisses you soft at first — several tender little pecks to warm you up like he’s giving you ample time to pull away and tell him you’re not in the kissing mood. It only makes you go deeper. You get more languid, more confident.
Steve lets you kiss him how you want. His mouth is soft and pink and obedient for you. His hands are warm and wide and welcoming, rising from your thighs to the curve of your waist.
You barely make it to Lover’s Lake that night.
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