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#this was probably initially gonna be my first post
Okay I just need to say that I knew I'd like this Tailstube as soon as I saw the thumbnail (after all, I am a Sonadails enjoyer, and Tails is literally in the middle of them in the thumbnail)
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But I think probably something that stood out the most to me when I watched it was just
The hints that Shadow and Tails have a relationship outside of Sonic??
The first thing that tipped me off to this was that not only did Tails convince Shadow to join in on his show, he also convinced him to stick around to its natural end?? You know, Shadow. The guy you can't force to do anything and frequently will just dip if he's bored or doesn't want to be there. But even while Sonic was annoying him and he made it clear he wanted the "interview" over with, he still never made a move to chaos control out of there because of any of this.
And the second thing that tipped me off was this:
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When Shadow is both confused and annoyed at Sonic, he chooses to complain to Tails about Sonic. And so Tails steps in to try to "explain" what Sonic meant by what he said (i.e he told Shadow something much nicer in the interest of getting them to be on better terms). The fact that he looks to Tails to complain to about Tails' own best friend and possibly even to explain that which he does not understand in a social context tells me just how highly he regards Tails. And since both Shadow and Sonic are being childish here, it's amusing to see Tails regarded as something closer to a trusted figure with more power here.
From an objective analysis standpoint, of course this means they have their own friendship. And this is a prospect I enjoy (The idea that Tails and Shadow are good friends)! It actually means a lot to me that Tails could form a frienship or bond with Shadow outside of the context of Sonic (in terms of who initiates it and for what reason it's initiated).
But, my friends, from a biased standpoint, I'm shipping trash. And to me this Tailstube was a fun show for Sonadails fans. Honestly, Tails staging this episode to get Sonic and Shadow to talk and "bury the hatchet", as well as how he acts during the show, read a lot to me personally like a guy trying to get his two boyfriends (who happen to be rivals) to get on better terms, if not just tolerate each other. I quite like the idea of Tails dating both of these idiots and just trying to get them to play nice when they're all together (although frankly I think the ideal scenario for Tails in my biased reading is that Sonic and Shadow get together as well).
This is also not to mention the dynamics showcased here! Sonic and Tails as best friends, with Sonic assuming that he and Tails were gonna talk shit about Shadow behind his back, and Tails trying to get him to play nicer. Shadow and Tails as friends, with Tails trying to convince him why he and Sonic are in the perfect position to become friends and helping him out socially, and with Shadow choosing to do something he doesn't want to because of Tails, as well as looking to Tails to complain to when Sonic is annoying him or when he doesn't understand something. And then there's Sonic and Shadow. In short, their relationship in this episode reminded me a lot of the dynamic I plotted out for that Sonadow post I wrote up where the two just beat the crap out of each other. In slightly longer terms, I find interesting how Mr. Flynn maintained Sonic and Shadow's dynamic during SA2 (with Sonic bothering Shadow and trying to fight him, while Shadow is just annoyed that Sonic won't leave him alone) while also showing the audience that they are rivals. And in longer terms...Sonic was clearly seeking a fight during this episode. And the facial expression, the mocking, his tone of voice, it doesn’t really matter whether or not he actually dislikes Shadow and believes they could never be friends. He's trying to annoy Shadow and goad him into a fight because he wants to fight Shadow so badly it makes him look stupid. And we can tell by how he expresses his confusion to Tails that Shadow is just not getting this. To him Sonic is just being annoying and confusing. Sonic is targeting him specifically, and Shadow shoots back with his own words. And so it's also pointed that Shadow reciprocates/actually decides to fight Sonic when Sonic specifically challenges him. He doesn't respond to Sonic trying to goad him on, but when Sonic challenges him specifically he's much more interested in opposing him.
Anyways guys I love Shadow and Tails having a soft on the side relationship while Sonic flirts by convincing Shadow to fight him somehow😂💖
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giggleme-green · 9 months
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Totally forgot I made this one- whoops
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lokh · 6 months
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being like man i probably gotta talk to people/make friends. finding out ways to make that happen irl and being like ykno what nevermind
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raveartts · 11 months
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I still don't know what i'm doing with her stupid design T_T
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yamujiburo · 1 year
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HANAMUSA (JESSIExDELIA) MASTER POST
I probably should have started doing this forever ago but I wasn’t sure how long I was gonna stick with drawing these comics. But I guess we’re in it now! This will be continually updated~ EVERYTHING UNDER THE CUT
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BEFORE YOU START:
This post is required reading about Team Rocket’s ages since that’s usually a question that comes up a lot LOL. As for Delia’s age, she is said to be 29 in Takeshi Shudo’s (original writer on Pokémon) novel that built out the world and characters of the anime.
Next, I feel like this chart helps give the vibe of what these characters relationship is (all just headcanons except for their names and ages)!
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WHERE TO START:
Here’s a post I made detailing how Jessie, James and Meowth initially start living with Delia. It also goes into what each character does in this AU. Before going into the post, you might enjoy this fanfic my girlfriend commissioned! It’s based off of said post and is a more enjoyable read.
Here’s also a list of headcanons!
COMICS:
Here’s all the comics I’ve done! The order of most of them are pretty ambiguous and up in the air but I put them in the order I kinda see in my head! There are some that do take place before Jessie and Delia start dating though! Also a few comics that have several parts but the “next” and “prev” links will be in each comic. So I’ll only link the first part of those ones in this masterpost.
Pre-Relationship
Fast Food
Ophidiophobia
Whipped
Making Eyes
Hairbrush
Inquiries
Separated
First Kiss
During Relationship
Big Bed
Tattoo
Crumbs
Pet Clown
I’d Like To
Jessica
Lipstick (not a comic but some fun extra dialogue for this)
Glow
Official
Stare Down
Shovel Talk
Invisible Walls
Date Night
Face Blind
One Motto Away
Snowgasboard
Delia’s Got a Cold
Mr. Jessie Ketchum
Peek-At-Chu
Hands Off Pikachu!
Wine Nights with James
Beauty and the Beach
Turning Point Arc
Sunscreen
Where Do Babies Come From
Love Life
Ugly
Ace Trainers
Pikasitting
Mother’s Day
Father’s Day
Gift for Delia
Gift for Jessie
Jessilina Fan
Crossdressing
Hickeys
Journey Arc
Tone
Cooking Twerp
Son
Cooking Advice
Serperior Facts
Cassidy’s Cabin Arc
Father/Son Bonding
Glasses
Uniform
Study Help
Happy Valentine’s Day
Wrapped
Daddy Daughter Double Battle
Splinter
Married Life
Wedding
Arbok/Weezing Reunion
Snake Eyes
MISC DRAWINGS:
I’ll update this with links to my other miscellaneous drawings later! 
FAQ:
What does "Hanamusa" mean?
Hanamusa is a combination of Delia and Jessie's Japanese names, Hanako and Musashi respectively.
When does this AU take place?
It takes place sometime after the Mezase Pokémon Master/To Be a Pokémon Master series. So all the events that happened in the series, unless retconned within the series, happened. Ash is 10 at the start of the comics.
What's the status between Jessie, James, Meowth and Giovanni/Team Rocket?
Not great terms since they were fired, but also not the worst terms. Giovanni just let the three of them go without any further issues. I will say that I've always loved the theory that Giovanni keeps Jessie specifically around because of her parentage and he as a soft spot for her that he keeps a secret. I feel like Matori was the one that got the three of them fired and Giovanni wasn't able to make an excuse for them this time (without showing nepotism/special treatment) so he was forced to let them go.
If you headcanon Delia as a lesbian, how did Ash come to be?
Delia was young when she had Ash and I hc that she just didn’t really explore her sexuality much! I myself didn’t realized I liked women until I was 18 and didn’t know I liked ONLY women until like 2 years ago. She got married, had a baby and realized after her husband left that she liked women (trans people exist obviously but I’m also interpreting Ash’s father as a cis man).
Who do you think Ash’s dad is?
I don’t know and I don’t really care to explore it. I’m going off of the novel interpretation that he’s just a deadbeat that left to be a trainer, failed and never came back because of the shame. He’s not important.
Isn’t Giovanni Ash’s dad?
That’s a common misconception that people remember wrong from the Pokémon Live show. Delia mentions she dated Giovanni but then left him and his gang after meeting Ash’s father. I also don’t consider the live show canon personally! I follow The Birth of Mewtwo timeline where Madame Boss founded Team Rocket.
Do you think Delia and Giovanni dated at least?
Nah, I think he’s too old for her? I always got the vibe from The Birth of Mewtwo that he was quite a bit older than Jessie and it’d be sus if he was dating Delia when she was married to, and had a child with her husband at 18/19. He’s a bad guy but not a BAD guy.
You mentioned you still ship Jessie and James. Why not make a Jessie, James, Delia polycule?
I have a few reasons I’ve mentioned before! 1. I’m in super deep with this AU already and I feel it’d be very confusing for casual viewers of my stuff if James was added into the relationship haha. 2. I’ve drawn Jessie and James together since 2011 and took this AU as an opportunity to try my hand at writing them as queer, platonic besties bc I love that interpretation of them a lot as well. 3. I’m not poly myself and the way I write this ship is largely based off of my experiences with my girlfriend. I just know I’d favor the Jessie/Delia of it all which isn’t fair and not a good interpretation of a poly relationship. All that said, I DO super enjoy seeing peoples’ poly headcanons and art!
Who does James end up with in this AU?
No one. He's aroace and is happy to be single
Do Jessie and James have all their Pokémon in this AU
I think they have all the Pokémon that they did by the end of Mezase Pokémon Master (all their Pokémon that were left at HQ). Most of their released Pokémon have stayed released and the Alola Pokémon are still in Alola. I bring back Arbok and Weezing post-Jessie and Delia getting married. I may bring back Chimecho, Growlie and Cacnea if I think of an idea I like!
What are Meowth and James up to in this AU?
Hop back to the top of this post under the "Where to Start" section. All your questions will be answered.
Does Ash travel with anyone at this point of his life?
I don't have anyone in particular in mind! I could see him making new friends (Nemona???) or traveling with different combinations of old friends. Like him, Misty and Goh, him, Dawn and Cilan, him, Serena and Lillie etc.
Will Delia ever get over her phobia of snake Pokémon
Not fully! I think overcoming fears is fine and good but I think real PHOBIAS are much harder to get past and I don't want to cheapen it. She slowly gets used to Jessie's Seviper specifically and gets to the point where she can pet it comfortably with Jessie in the room. But otherwise, still scared and would need that same amount of time per Pokémon
Is Jessie gaining weight or is it just me?
Not just you! Jessie puts on a bit of relationship weight overtime as you'll see in the later comics in the timeline. Jessie grew in poverty, never knowing when her next meal would be and that continued into her life as a Team Rocket member. Once she was able to settle down (with a woman who runs her own restaurant no less) she's able to live a healthier lifestyle with regular meals and puts on some weight because of that.
Does Jessie ever feel self conscious about gaining weight?
Nope! She feels happier and healthier and hotter. She's also unreasonably excited to clear out her old clothes and get a new wardrobe.
Would Jessie and Delia ever have kids together or adopt?
Nah, Ash is enough for them! I have come up with hypothetical kids for them but they're not canon to this AU. Just a fun little thing for me.
Will you ever put this on webtoon?
Nah. People mostly ask me this because they want to read everything in the order of the timeline but to my knowledge, you can’t reorder chapters or installments which would defeat the purpose. I also don’t think nintendo fan stuff would fly there. Also, also it’s just extra work and another place to upload and I want to keep this all fun for myself~
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exeggcute · 2 years
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unfortunately my notes are full of enough stories of GI misery to last a lifetime so I'm gonna have to do the humane thing and put this post down for my own sanity lol. however let me leave you with a tidbit of wisdom from my gastroenterologist, a kind and intelligent man who I lovingly refer to as Dr. Poop:
IBS is a diagnosis of exclusion!!! what this means is that it's not a good idea to assume your stomach problems are caused by IBS because IBS is, by definition, a diagnosis reserved for cases where ofher probable causes have been ruled out. if you don't rule out those other causes, the symptoms you attribute to IBS may very well be due to something else entirely—and gonna get worse if you don't figure it out, but it's also gonna get better if you do.
I've been walking around for years thinking I had IBS (that's what I thought when I initially made this post) but turns out I have fucking crohn's disease!!! and if Dr. Poop hadn't convinced me to get it checked out in the first place, I probably would've kept suffering for years until something got bad enough to send me to the hospital. if you are able to see a doctor and prove your symptoms a bit it is always worth it.
P.S. I am not usually an herbal bitch but peppermint tea is awesome for really bad clenching-type pain because it relaxes your gut muscles. peppermint in capsules too. the flip side of this is that relaxing your gut muscles can make GERD symptoms worse (if you have issues with that) so you might wanna keep an alka-seltzer nearby just in case.
P.P.S. since going on crohn's medication (mesalamine ftw) I have actually been able to resume eating a reasonable amount of junk food without too much hastle lol. ironically I've had the most trouble with veggie tofu bowls because eating too much fiber or too much protein in one sitting upsets the beast but I crushed two pop-tarts like it was nothing
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sabertoothwalrus · 2 months
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here are some preliminary sketches I had done in my sketchbook for the peepaw chilchuck comic.
I wanted to follow it up with some worldbuilding thoughts I had while working on it, if that sort of thing is interesting to anyone:
- it’d take place 5ish years post-canon
- I changed almost everyone’s hair to show time had passed. Chilchuck and Kabru were the most drastic (I COULDNT STOP THINKING ABOUT THAT LONG HAIR KABRU THAT KUI DREW), Marcille grew out her bangs, Senshi’s beard is slightly shorter, and Izutsumi’s hair is mildly longer. Laios and Falin give me the impression that they’re the brand of neurodivergent that’d pick one haircut and stick to it for the rest of their lives. I almost gave Laios facial hair but idk he’s gotten over his daddy issue enough for that.
- Emertim Chils: I tried to follow both the half-foot and dwarven naming conventions for the baby, so Emer- comes from “emerald” (dwarven names are often gemstones or ore) and -tim because Chilchuck’s father’s first name was Tim :) Dwarves don’t have family names, so Emertim would take Chils, same as Flertom. Usually they’re named after their father but I didn’t wanna name a random dwarf man. thank you Chel for helping name him 🫶💕
- Initially the idea that Chilchuck would keep an entire grandchild a secret was just a joke, but it made sense when I thought about it. I wonder,, would dwarf/half-foot couples have trouble conceiving? Because if so, I’d imagine Flertom may have lost a couple pregnancies. Chilchuck is already such a private person, and I don’t think he’d feel comfortable airing his daughter’s grief like that. They wouldn’t wanna tell anyone until they were sure this baby was gonna make it.
- For the above reason, Chilchuck would absolutely spoil this kid. Not that he wouldn’t have spoiled his grandkids anyway, but I think after all that stress, he’d be extra extra doting. He’d be letting him do things he’d never DREAM of letting his own daughters do. Completely different parenting style.
- I think he’s still too prideful to take advantage of Laios being King (sidenote: is Laios even wealthy??? does a kingdom that sprung up from a previously-sunken continent even have money?? what the fuck is their economy), but like,,, if Laios offered any gifts he wouldn’t exactly say no.
- Izutsumi surprisingly really likes the baby :3 she’d like to take naps with him and he’d like her purrs and she’d have a lot of fun playing with him.
- SENSHI. meemaw mode. That kid would grow up not realizing Senshi isn’t technically one of his grandads. He is FEEEEEDING this kid.
- LAIOS DOES GET TO HOLD THE BABY!!!!!! just. eventually. They don’t actually expect a Tarrare situation LMAO they just wait until the kid is a little less fragile and a little more mobile. I think Laios would be really good with toddlers.
- Chilchuck is very thankful Emertim’s half-foot genes kick in sooner than later because he was getting too big for him to carry.
- Emertim would probably get the extended lifespan. He and Marcille would get to stay friends for a very very long time :’)
- my personal headcanon is that Chilchuck and his wife decide to split. He still loves her and it’s probably still a bit mutual, but after four years of almost no-contact, they decide their communication issues aren’t working well for their relationship. Plus, the Adventurer’s Bible says Chilchuck is renting their old house out to family, and he’d feel bad kicking them out so he and wife could move back in. They’d still be on good terms, and would be good at coordinating when to babysit.
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ghostaholics · 8 months
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𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒 𝐈𝐓 𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑
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➸ PAIRING: Lieutenant Simon 'Ghost' Riley x gn medic!Reader (same reader from here, but this is a stand-alone) ➸ SUMMARY: You kiss Simon's very minor injuries. And then some. (Or, alternatively: He's not actually wounded. He just wants to see you.) ➸ WARNING(S): some graphic descriptions of old injuries ➸ A/N: Need to preface that this isn't smut despite how the title and summary sound. Anyways, Jo knows I listened to Hozier's Other Voices 2020 version of "Work Song" for a week straight while writing this. ➸ WC: 2k
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❝ 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐈𝐍' 𝐎𝐅 ��𝐎𝐔 𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐈𝐄𝐋𝐃, ❞ he admits, low-timbered. It feels intimate, especially coming from him. Simon's sitting on the cot; it sags under his weight. He curls his hands over the edge of it as he leans forward. No casualties post-mission means he's got free rein to pick wherever he wants in the medical tent.
"Oh, yeah? What about?"
"That I should probably do my best to avoid injuries so I don’t keep pestering you. Can always just tell me to fuck off, y’know.”
“You’re gonna break my heart if you stop coming around.
“Mm,” he says in agreement. “Can’t have that can we?”
You nod your head earnestly. “I like your company.”
“Tryin’ to say that you’ll miss me?”
“I would.” More than he knows.
It’s routine now. He gives you just enough room, adjusting his position. You step into the space made between Simon’s splayed knees, his massive legs nearly bracketing yours with how close they are. He’s bigger than you. Well, considerably more mammoth-like in his proportions compared to an overwhelming majority of the soldiers that you’ve encountered, to be quite honest.
Simon acts as though he’s acutely aware of his size. You suspect that he purposefully makes himself smaller in your presence. Like now, how his shoulders are rounded forward, the column of his spine not as straight-arrow in that standard, militaristic posture most servicemen have adopted. As if he doesn’t want to appear too intimidating. Not that Simon could, to you. Hours doing his stitches and idle chitchat on your part have taught you that he’s much less ruthless than people seem to paint him as. But you appreciate the thought anyway.
You conduct the assessment – a typical evaluation normal for combat casualty care, more in-depth than the one you’d done when he initially stopped by and you did a quick once-over for any obvious injuries. Though given the complete vacancy in the medical tent, you find it hard to believe that you’ll come across anything on him since the mission went that smoothly.
The first thing you notice this time: he doesn't smell like spilled blood. It's different. Not that sweet, rusted iron of wet tackiness – the one that reminds you of a generous stack of two pence coins held between a pair of hands cupped together. He comes in that way a lot. Reeks, because war means that he's no stranger to charging through a shower of copper and lead-forged bullets out on the field. Everything else is still there, though. Maybe a dying campfire – crackling logs and blackened earth. Soft dirt excavated from a foxhole for cover while under enemy fire. All gunpowder and Marlboro Lights and diesel-fuel smoke. Fresh rain and a blue-violet sky after a storm. Victory without consequence.
You'd breathe it in if you could, pull the collar of his jacket up to your face. At this proximity, it’d be easy.
He drops the act when he’s in front of you. Lieutenant. Ghost. Battle-hardened, gruff. A natural-born leader. The kind of person to rip this world apart brick by brick – scraped up palms clutching onto broken pieces – to make sure that the plan is executed accordingly, no matter the cost. It’s hard for him to shed that layer. A drop in the bucket of information that you’ve gathered about this man.
You’ve seen him at his best. But you know him at his worst.
The laundry list of injuries over the years: blows to his torso and his back and his limbs that were brighter than technicolor – purples and reds and sickly yellow-green shades – deep, blotchy medals of violence decorating his skin like some kind of fucked-up kaleidoscope that was nothing to be proud of; when some bastard drove a knife right into his upper thigh, that dirty blade wedged through tissue and muscle which was sure as hell going to induce the nastiest infection without serious TLC and a tetanus shot; rib fractures 7-9 because he aborted an exploding heli, seconds to spare before landing on his side wrong from a height that was equivalent to three stories tall; old GSWs dotting his body the same way you’d shove push pins into a paper-flimsy map to mark the places you’ve been to.
And then there’s no contest for the top contender. 𝐆𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭'𝐬 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐈𝐧𝐣𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐭 #𝟏: when he was rushed in on a stretcher, barely clinging to life. Lower abdomen shredded by exploding shrapnel. He was outside of the window of opportunity. Too far beyond that golden hour, so his chances of surviving plummeted to a single-digit percent.
He’s more than just a patchwork of scars. There’s a complex person underneath the surface. A miracle in the flesh to have toughed it out through all of that. Resilient. Perpetual. His callsign makes sense. Ghosts really do live forever.
Several seconds pass before you speak again. It’s a silly comment, teasing – poking fun at him. You don’t have any reservations when it comes to picking on Simon; he’s good about taking these things in stride. Funny, actually. He’s got a dry sense of humor. “I think… you like the idea of someone taking care of you.”
His response isn’t immediate. It’s delayed, said with intention. He doesn’t ever waste words. “Not just anybody.”
You nearly reel back at that. Warmth floods your face. You aren’t quite sure what to say, didn’t expect it. So you let the comment hang in the air between the two of you, busying your hands with slipping off his tac vest, triple-checking for hidden wounds, doing anything to keep yourself occupied while you stand this close to him in the wake of that remark. You’re engrossed in your work, in search of a distraction.
(He’s a distraction, isn’t he?)
And then your eyes stop in their scan. Right there: a small nick on the exposed sliver of skin between his glove and sleeve – open to the direct path of some wayward debris that happened to graze him. So tiny. You’ve seen paper cuts more harrowing than this – wouldn’t have even registered on your radar, especially if it’s being dwarfed by other critical wounds that hold decisive sway over somebody’s fate when it comes to your average life-or-death scenario.
Of course, you take your job very seriously.
You feign a sharp inhale. “Ah,” you say solemnly, guiding his arm up to your face for a closer look. “Found your problem.”
“I’ve got a problem,” he echoes, voice laced with amusement.
“See, you came to the right place. Anybody else would’ve missed it.”
“The verdict, then?”
“So terrible. Earth-shattering, in fact—”
Simon starts pulling away. “Alright, that’s enough of you takin’ the piss outta me,” he gripes.
You chase his arm to recapture it into your grasp. “Wait!” you say, huffing out a laugh. Your mouth sprouts into a wide grin that makes him roll his eyes.
“You gonna treat me or what?”
Your humor bubbles away as you come back to your senses. Those once-loud peals of laughter start to die down when you take his question into consideration. Because there’s really nothing for you to do; he doesn’t need you.
The realization is slow-moving. It washes over you, rolls like waves as you finally begin to sober up.
Simon wants to be here, and he’s looking for any excuse to stay. He just can’t find the courage to own up to it.
“I dunno. Might be unconventional,” you throw out casually, playing along. “Risky, maybe – never been done before.”
But he’s undeterred. “Sure. Whatever you gotta do.”
You pause for a beat, fingers still wrapped around his forearm because you haven’t managed to let go yet. His skin is warm under your palm. You’re not sure what exactly possesses you to do it – emboldened by his encouragement, given complete carte blanche; he’s leaving this to your discretion. So you press your lips to that area where the cut is, right over his pulse point. If you had lingered for longer, you probably would’ve been able to feel it thudding, that solid rhythm and easy strength reminding you he’s alive.
You expected him to withdraw his arm in bewilderment. He should’ve kicked up a fuss about you violating his boundaries, should’ve told you that you overstepped. Something, right?
But he doesn’t do any of that. Simon’s studying you. Dark pupils. So chasm-deep that the ground beneath your feet might slip away. Ocean trenches, midnight-black like the charcoal smudged around his eyes. When they land on you, his gaze goes molasses-soft. He’s fond; there’s little room for doubt. The way he looks at you says everything. None of that usual coldness he harbors during an op. Instead, relaxed and more human than you’re used to seeing – all of his attention focused solely on you.
“Where else, Simon?” you whisper.
He’s thinking – carefully weighing his options – the same expression that he gets when a crossroads lies ahead of him and he knows his make-it-or-break-it decision will invariably affect the outcome of a mission.
After several moments, his hand comes up. Simon’s fingers curl underneath the hem of his mask; he’s been wearing the fabric balaclava more often since you’ve fixed the stitching on it. Then he lifts – not the entire way. Just to reveal the bottom half of his face. There he is. Sandpaper-rough stubble. The sharp cut of his jaw. A mouth that you’re convinced wears a scowl 24/7 behind his mask but is now slightly twitched up.
Even though you’ve seen it before, the sight of him never fails to steal your breath away. Feels like meeting him for the first time again. With how rarely he does this, it might as well be – that slow, heart-melting sensation is steadily filling the cavern of your chest.
And you lean in. Your lips brush against his; it’s a chaste thing – the kiss – if it can be called that. Gentle. Like how you’d stitch up his wounds with a light touch and kind intent. He’s built of sterner stuff, but if there’s anything you’ve learned about him, it’s that he’s capable of breaking just as easily as everyone else. You always handle Simon with care: unequivocal compassion and empathy when there’s so little of those left on this side of war – privileges that he’s never taken for granted.
“Better?” you ask quietly, tipping your head in question.
Simon hums his approval – this pleased, low sound in his throat. His hand slides across your lower back. He tugs you towards him. “Wouldn’t mind some more attention,” he murmurs, before slotting his mouth over yours. And then he kisses you like it might heal him from the outside in.
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bluebeary-jay · 1 year
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Let me (put my lips to somethin')
Joel Miller x f!Reader
Summary: 5 times you wanted to kiss Joel, and 1 time it actually happened (or: your relationship with Joel over the years)
Tags: 5+1 babeyyy, VERY self-indulged (i just want this man to call me his babygirl 😫), FLUFF, tooth-rotting fluff even, a bit of angst, age gap, PINING, i could write several fics out of this but no we're doing 5+1! also reader has she/her pronouns (i tried not to but at some point it was getting difficult not to use any :( sorry guys)
Warnings: descriptions of violence and wounds, cursing, getting drunk, David (which is a warning in itself), allusions to SA (but nothing happens)
Word count: ~9.4K (jesus i really got carried away im not doing that again for at least some time)
A/N: i am baack!! i finally had time to finish this monster and i guess it's ready to post <3 i absolutely ADORE 5+1 fics and always wanted to write one on my own. so here it is!! hope you enjoy because i loved writing it
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1. boston qz
You bit your forearm harder, trying to hold back the tears of pain. The man kneeling in front of you glanced up.
“Bite the sleeve of your jacket. Otherwise they’re gonna think you’re infected and shoot you on sight.”
You didn’t answer but nodded, knowing that he was right. Holding your breath for a moment, you took a handful of the material and bit down on it, shutting your eyes tightly. The excruciating pain in your leg was hard enough to endure, but for the first place with it competed an absolutely unbearable look of poorly concealed pity (which you initially took for irritation) on the face of Tess’ friend.
It was through her that you met Joel. At the beginning he wasn’t very keen about letting you work with them but slowly warmed up to your presence – at least as much as a man like Joel could. Most of the time he was grumbling and, in all fairness, looking slightly angry but you’ve soon understood that he’s actually a pretty good guy. Caring. Funny, if he lets you see this side of him. Also really fucking handsome, but that was beside the point.
The job was supposed to be an easy one – just meet with a couple of Zeke’s people, pick up the smuggled items and exchange them for some meds and ammunition. However, none of you expected some random rogue group to ambush you on your way back and attempt to steal the cargo.
Tess has managed to get away just before soldiers showed up, alerted by the sound of gunfire way past the curfew. Before they could spot any of you, Joel quickly pulled you into one of the nearby buildings after one of the strangers slashed your thigh, leaving you unable to run.
So now here you were. Bleeding from your leg and making a pathetic crybaby out of yourself before the very eyes of the man you respected and lowkey had a small crush on.
Speaking of whom, Joel gave you a look of sympathy before squeezing the stapler handle again, ejecting another staple into your skin. You tensed and a broken cry escaped your lips, your breathing rapid.
“It’s alright,” he murmured, putting his other hand on your knee and rubbing slightly. “Just two more and you’ll be good to go.”
You breathed out a humorless laugh and wiped your face, sniffling.
“Just get on with it. This is way more embarrassing than it should be.” In the corner of your eye you saw him look up. He didn’t move the hand in which he held the staple gun yet, so you took this moment to steady your breath and slumped against the wall. “You probably think it’s pretty pathetic, but in my defense I never had such a gash closed with staples like that.”
“M’not thinkin’ that,” he retorted and you blew a raspberry.
“Sure. Tess told me about some of your forays, you know? You could probably get run over by a damn tank and walk it off like it’s nothing.”
Joel was silent for some time. You wiped your cheeks and motioned for him to eject the last staples at the edge of the deep cut in your thigh. He mumbled to you to get ready and you took a deep breath, bracing yourself for the pain.
It hurt like hell and you couldn’t help the tears flowing from your eyes, but soon enough it was over.
The sound of shouting from outside drew your attention from the pain in your leg for a couple of seconds. You tensed up, listening intently if the soldiers weren’t busting in the building you were in, but the noises soon went past you.
“Y’know, if my brother was here, he’d have told you about the first time I had a wound stitched outside of the controlled conditions,” Joel spoke up unexpectedly, unpacking his backpack in search of clean bandages. “I nearly bit off my thumb when he was tryin’ to sew my foot back together.”
You couldn’t help but snort at his confession and he glanced at you from the corner of his eye with a slight smirk.
“Is that true?”
Joel huffed with fake indignation and lifted his left hand to your eyes, twisting it so that the dim light from outside illuminated the side of it. Above and below the small bone at the base of his thumb appeared very light and irregular lines. You looked at his face with an unbelieving smile.
“When was that?”
“Ah… Just before the outbreak, I’d say.”
“And what happened to your foot?”
“Construction work. I don’t remember exactly what that was.”
“But how hard did you have to chomp down on your thumb for it to be still visible?” you asked, laughing, to which he chuckled and shrugged.
“Hey, don’t judge. If it was Tommy who was fixin’ your leg, you’d probably end up without a couple of fingers too, just for good measure.”
He found the bandage and motioned for you to straighten your leg at the knee. You watched him carefully as he looked over your bare thigh and the (not very pretty to look at) sutured wound. The leg of your pants was cut and tossed away earlier so that Joel could stitch you up freely.
“So you have a brother. Is he really that bad at treating wounds?” you asked to distract yourself from the awkwardness of the whole situation, though Joel seemed surprisingly calm.
“He got better with time,” your colleague answered and then looked up at you. “But I didn’t tell you this to bitch about Tommy’s skills.”
“Oh?” you nudged him with your other leg. “So what moral should I draw from this story?”
You clearly saw him suppressing a smile when he shook his head lightly.
“Don’t feel bad that it hurts,” he murmured and the snicker disappeared from your lips. “I’ve seen looks like the one on your face plenty before. It’s a fuckin’ big gash, I’d be worried if you didn’t show any signs of pain.”
You couldn’t come up with any snarky remarks and just blinked when Joel sent you a quick, if not a bit self-conscious, smile, like he wasn’t used to reassuring someone else.
“The fact that you let your tears flow doesn’t make you any weaker,” he said even quieter than before. You still weren’t answering and he cleared his throat, apparently growing uncomfortable with your silence, then grabbed the bottle of alcohol. “I’m gonna pour some of that shit over your wound again. It’ll sting a bit.”
You observed without a word how he cleansed the gash and started to wind the bandage around your thigh.
Weirdly enough, you also noticed that you couldn’t stop glancing at his lips.
*****
2. bill and frank’s
“No. I said no, come back here!”
Giggles erupted from you as Joel tried (and failed) to grab you when you jumped over the couch. He sighed deeply as you made eye contact with him and, with a provocative smile, drank up the rest of the bottle before putting it down on the nearby table. The man looked so disappointed and done with you, it only made you laugh louder in your drunken state.
You two were staying for a couple of days at Bill and Frank’s heavenly place, which you looked forward to for weeks now. Originally Tess was supposed to go with you but there was a last-minute change of plans, and you made the journey alone with Joel. Not counting a few infected you stumbled upon on your way here, your venture was quite nice and after a delightful dinner with your hosts, you sneaked into Joel’s room with the bottle of wine Frank gave you and the stuff you smuggled yourself.
Joel didn’t seem to be having as much fun as you, though.
“I’m never drinkin’ with you again,” he muttered, sitting heavily on the couch with a grunt. You faked a pout, leaning over his head upside down and almost losing your balance.
“You’re grouchy because the stuff you brought tasted like shit.”
“And yet you drank most of it.”
“I didn’t,” you slurred, waltzing round the couch and grinning. “I’m feelin’ great.”
“Be careful or you’ll pick up my accent you so like pokin’ fun of.”
You snorted and flopped on the seat next to him. “Mhm, m’feelin’ fine and dandy,” you grumbled in the deepest voice you could make, ridiculously imitating his Texas drawl. “Yee-haw.”
“You’re the fuckin’ worst,” sighed Joel with exasperation but you could see a crooked smile tugging on his lips. You beamed and plopped down, laying your head on his lap. He peeked at you with his brows raised. “What are you doin’ now, you little devil?”
“Just resting,” you answered. The lamp behind Joel was blinding you with its light, so you covered your eyes with your hand to shield them. “Is that uncomfy for you? Do you want me to get up?”
“Nah. You can stay for a minute.”
As if wanting to make sure you won’t try to stand up, he laid his hand on your hair, brushing some of it to the back. You hummed and shivered when he gently scratched one specific spot on your scalp, and instinctively tilted your head, chasing his touch.
Joel snorted.
“You look like a goddamn cat.”
“Shut up,” you murmured in response, a small smile adoring your face. “It feels nice.”
You opened your eyes and once again shielded them from the lamp. Joel moved his head slightly to the side to block out the bothersome stimulus, causing you to giggle again.
“It looks like you have a halo ’round your head.” You lifted your arm and made a circle, brushing the side of his face when your hand plopped back down limply on your stomach. The older man huffed a smile, looking away to glance around the room.
“I’ll be really surprised if you remember anythin’ of what you’re sayin’ tomorrow.”
“Gimme a break,” you grumbled with a smile, not taking your eyes off him. Your hand raised itself to his face again, as if on its own accord, and brushed lightly the corner of his mouth and the stubble on his cheek. “It looks pretty.”
His brown irises flickered to you before he averted his gaze. With a hum you withdrew your hand and closed your eyes, your mind getting woozy from alcohol and tiredness.
Joel’s fingers were still running through your hair gently and you really hoped you’d remember it in the morning.
*****
3. road, somewhere in missouri
You had no idea how long you had been driving.
Ellie was asleep in the back seat and Joel was getting some well-deserved shut-eye after you volunteered to sit behind the wheel several hours ago. The clock on the dashboard was showing 4:07 and you planned on driving until the sun started to rise, then switching places with Joel.
That is, if you manage to stay awake.
You tried to drink some of the coffee Joel prepared beforehand to wake yourself up but it tasted horrible, leaving a too bitter taste on your tongue. Once you catched yourself closing your eyes for a second longer than intended and the car started to veer off course before you corrected it.
Yes, you were aware driving in this kind of state was extremely stupid, but you knew Joel was anxious to find his brother and drop Ellie off with the Fireflies as soon as possible. And you knew that if you wake him up he’ll insist on driving for the rest of the way himself, ignoring his own needs and exhaustion.
You risked a look to the side at his sleeping form. He had his arms crossed over his chest and his head propped against the headrest. Honestly, it looked like the man was just pretending to nap – his body seemed uptight, as if he was ready to spring into action at any second.
And he looked beautiful with his face bathed in the gray light of early morning. Like a painting you’d gladly admire for hours.
You sighed and cracked your neck, focusing on the road ahead of you. Several more hours to go. There was a gas tank in the back of the car, so you didn’t have to worry about that, and if you remembered correctly the map you and Joel studied earlier, you should get close to some bigger city in the late afternoon. Joel wanted to take the side roads and you agreed, but your supplies… Did you have enough of them? And what was the name of that city again…?
A hand grabbed the wheel and gently straightened the course when without you noticing the car started to veer too much to the left again.
You emerged from your reverie immediately and looked to the right at Joel who was now wide awake.
“You alright?” he asked with concern, and his voice had this enticing, raspy drawl to it that told you he really dozed off for a while.
“I’m so sorry,” you said quickly but quietly, not wanting to wake Ellie up. “I’m fine, promise.”
He eyed the tiredness on your face and the tight grip you had on the wheel.
“If you need to get some rest–”
“No, no, no. I can go on. Sorry you had to wake up.”
Joel grunted and stretched in the small space in the front seat and you tried really hard not to stare at how he craned his neck or at the way his muscles tensed, or at the strip of his skin revealed when his shirt rolled up…
“Pull over.”
You snapped out of your thoughts. “No. I told you I’m fine.”
“C’mon, darlin’, don’t make me wrestle with you in a movin’ vehicle.”
Either he had a clue about what this nickname was doing to you, or he was still half-asleep and it simply slipped out; but whether it was intentional or not, you couldn’t dream of opposing him now and with a defeated sigh (and burning neck) you pulled over, slowly bringing the car to a halt. You glanced backwards, but miraculously Ellie hadn’t woken up yet.
Joel looked you over with concern and you shut your eyes, laying your forehead on the steering wheel. “I’m sorry,” you repeated. “But I really can keep going, at least until the sun goes up.”
“We’re switchin’,” he just said, unfastening his seatbelt.
“Joel, no!” you hissed, but he ignored you and went around the hood of the car, stopping at your side and opening the door for you. “I’m not moving. You need to get some fucking rest.”
“I already did. Now scoot over.”
“No, I told you–”
“What’s going on? Are we there yet?”
Both of you looked back to see Ellie sitting up and rubbing her eyes. In a split second she went from half-awake to alert, and she eyed you and Joel suspiciously. “What’s going on?” she asked again.
“We’re switchin’ places,” Joel spoke up before you had a chance to answer the girl. “Our current driver is pretty tired.”
“I’m not!” you protested, glaring at him.
“You almost drove the car into a ditch.”
“Woah.” Ellie lifted her hands and puffed her cheeks in a nervous manner. “Just this time, I second Joel. I really don’t want to end up in a ditch, thank you very much.”
“You see?” Joel looked at you expectedly. “Outvoted.”
You squinted in the rearview mirror at the teen. “Traitor.”
Ellie just shrugged. With a heavy sigh you unfastened yourself and exited the car, but before you could go around it and take Joel’s previous place, he stuck his arm out, stopping you.
“Actually, Ellie, do you want to ride shotgun now?” he asked and nodded in your direction. “It’d do her good to lie down for a bit.”
“No,” you said firmly at the same time when Ellie agreed with an enthusiastic “hell yeah!”. You crossed your arms over your chest and glared at the pair. “You guys are in cahoots.”
“Boo-hoo,” Ellie had a mean smile on her face. “Get in the backseat and cry about it.”
“She’s so cheeky,” you murmured to Joel, trying to hide your smile, and by the look of it he had trouble doing that, too. You sighed and lifted your hands in surrender. “Alright, you two. You won.”
“Great.” Ellie grinned, then started walking off the street. “But give me a moment, dudes, I gotta pee,” she said before marching further into the field on the side of the road.
“Don’t go too far!” shouted Joel after her.
“Don’t drive off without me!”
With that Ellie disappeared behind a small hill and you turned back to your companion, scrunching your face at him. Joel shrugged and walked past you.
“C’mon. I’ll find you a blanket.”
You huffed but didn’t argue further, knowing nothing will change his mind. He could be stubborn as a mule sometimes.
You climbed into the backseat and waited for Joel to take out the blanket you took from Bill and Frank’s house from the back of the car. He opened the door next to your head and handed it over, waiting for you to unfurl it. You expected him to go take the driver’s seat right away, but he stayed in place. Only then you noticed the folded jacket he was holding in his hands.
He didn’t react at all to your raised eyebrows and questioning look, and just casually laid his jacket under your head to serve as a pillow. The gesture was so sweet it made you melt inside, and you just couldn’t stay mad at him.
“Promise me you’ll get some sleep.”
“Only if you and Ellie aren’t too loud,” you teased, trying to settle down the butterflies fluttering in your stomach. “If you start arguing about some stupid shit again, I’m taking the wheel from you by force.”
He smirked and squatted next to your seat, looking down at you with an amused expression.
“I’d like to see you try.”
You had to be really fucking tired, because for a split second you thought that Joel has just flirted with you. You hid your face in his jacket to partially conceal your smile, but it only made your face hotter because the material smelled of him so much.
“I could. You’re lucky I’m deciding to show mercy.”
“How gracious of you. I’m honored.
“But we’re swapping places when I wake up,” you added, looking at him as sternly as you could. He raised his eyebrows with a half-smile when a yawn escaped you immediately after. “I’m serious, Joel.”
“Sure, darlin’.” He leaned in and kissed your forehead before standing up. “Now sleep.”
You could only stare into space as he carefully closed the door next to your head and walked around the vehicle with heavy steps. The spot on your head where his lips touched your skin was tingling and you inhaled deeply to calm yourself down before he entered the truck again and fastened the seatbelt.
Joel put some cassette into the tape deck and turned the volume down even before the song started to play.
You closed your eyes and wrapped the blanket tighter around yourself, hiding the lower part of the face – and a blush spreading on your cheeks – under the cover.
*****
4. jackson
You looked out the window at the children pulling their sleds behind them and smiled at how happy and carefree they looked. Down the road you could just barely see the big Christmas tree in the square and for a moment it felt like the apocalypse had never happened.
“They’re pretty lucky to be growing up here,” you said quietly. Joel was closing and opening cabinets behind you, clearly looking for something.
“Not sure about it. But I guess it beats growin’ up in any of the QZ’s or Fedra’s barracks.”
After Joel’s sudden change of heart and Ellie’s confident decision that she’d rather travel with you both instead of Tommy, the younger Miller convinced his brother to stay one more day in Jackson. It was honestly a good idea because you doubted any of you three got any rest the previous night. You certainly didn’t, tossing and turning the entire time from worry.
Joel chuckled and the sound pulled you out of your thoughts.
“What did you find?” you asked. He was kneeling in front of one of the cabinets, holding a small box.
“Old cassettes. You want to listen to some music?”
“Sure.” You stood up with a smile. “It’ll be pretty atmospheric.”
Joel gave you a dirty look.
“I’m not putting on Christmas carols.”
“I don’t want to listen to Christmas carols. Find something good.”
He sighed and took out a carton box from the cabinet, and then started to rummage through it. “Alright, so what do you want?”
“You can choose. Pick something you think I’d like.” A thought struck you and you glanced around the living room, furrowing your brows. “Is there even any tape player in here or something like that?”
“Upstairs,” Joel mumbled absent-mindedly. “In Ellie’s room. We can go see if it works.”
Ellie was out exploring Jackson and you doubted she’ll be back very soon. You knelt down next to Joel, looking at him with a grin as he inspected the box, pulling out and reading some of the cassettes before putting them back down. You rested your chin on your hands.
“Just get anything,” you ushered after some time, to which he chuckled.
“You said to pick somethin’ you’d like. Gimme some time.”
“Do you think I’m that picky?”
“Of course you are.”
You rolled your eyes but didn’t have to wait much longer before Joel stood up with a grunt and held out his hand to you. In the other one he held a white cassette.
“C’mon. I’m pretty sure you’re gonna love this one.”
You took his hand with excitement and let yourself be pulled to your feet. It’s been so long since you’ve been able to listen to some music – well, maybe not as long, but you missed it regardless – that you felt a bubbly joy at the thought of hearing something new.
And more than that, something that Joel has picked specifically for you. Doesn’t matter that you had to ask him.
You went upstairs to the room that was currently Ellie’s bedroom and Joel bent down, inserting the cassette into the tape player. He looked over his shoulder at you with a small smile and you beamed right back.
A loud, scratchy sound rang out.
You winced and Joel furrowed his brows. He took the cassette out, checked the empty slot and the cassette itself, and then made sure the power was on.
The first notes started to play, but they sounded distorted, like a scratched record. Joel cursed and tried again, but there must’ve been something wrong with the device, because no matter what he did, the music didn’t play right.
He tried again and again, and finally you decided to put a stop to it. You placed your hand on his shoulder.
“Leave it, Joel. It’s okay.”
“Just my fuckin’ luck,” he muttered, not turning around. “Of course Tommy gave us a place without a working cassette player.”
“It’s okay,” you repeated. You wanted to say something like ’the song probably isn’t even worth fussing over’, but the words got stuck in your throat. He picked it for you to listen to, of course it was worth it. “Maybe I just wasn’t meant to hear it.”
The man worried his lip and you quickly averted your gaze. He straightened up and put his hands on his hips, sighing.
“Nonsense,” he answered, looking intently at the device like he wanted to get it to work by sheer willpower. “You wanted to hear it.”
“Well, I did.” You got embarrassed for whatever reason, not knowing what to say. “But there’s not really anything we can do about that. It’s no big deal.”
Joel’s jaw twitched and he turned to look at you thoughtfully. You offered him a lopsided smile, but he didn’t move a muscle and you could almost imagine small gears turning in his head when he had this expression on his face.
“You okay?” you asked with a stifled laugh.
“I… have an idea,” he said slowly, almost hesitantly. Then he focused his eyes on you again. “Just… trust me for a moment.”
Your gaze softened and you took a step closer to him.
“Joel, of course I trust you. I trust you with my life.”
His Adam’s apple bobbed but his brown irises haven’t left yours for even a second.
“Close your eyes.”
“What?” you asked with a crooked smile, but he just shook his head.
“C’mon, close your eyes. And promise you won’t laugh.”
Confusion washed over you but you closed your eyes as requested. You heard Joel sighing and then he took your hand in his calloused and rough one, slowly putting it on his shoulder. Your neck got way too hot but you tried not to tense or flinch in fear of making him back out.
“Promise you won’t laugh,” he repeated and you just now realized you haven’t answered him. He put his hand on your waist, very, very lightly, and your other hand was raised to  shoulder height, cradled in his warm one.
“I swear I won’t,” you whispered, your heart beating so damn loud you were scared he was going to hear it with how close you two were.
Joel exhaled heavily and you felt his breath on your hair.
And then he started to hum quietly and sway you gently from side to side. You desperately tried to remain calm, but how were you supposed to do that when your body felt so hot and he was so close–
“I reached inside myself and found nothin’ there… to ease the pressure… of my ever-worrying mind, hmm…”
Joel’s voice was deep and harsh right in front of you, and it sounded more like he was purring than singing. You suspected he slowed down the pace of the song significantly to match his movements and your heart swelled with warmth and adoration. The smile on your face widened and you took a step to the left, then to the right, gradually engaging in your dance more and more. You wanted to make it less uncomfortable and awkward for him and it seemed to have worked a bit because the next lines were much more confident, and his voice steadier.
“All my power wasted ’way, fear the crazed and lonely looks the mirror’s sendin’ me these days, hmm…”
His hold on you tightened slightly and you held his hand a little more securely, unable to hold back a goofy smile on your face.
“Touch me… how can it be? Believe me… the sun always shines on TV.”
You were falling for him all over again and it was not fair that he made you promise to keep your eyes closed. Though if he didn’t, you’d probably end up doing something dumb.
Like kissing him.
Fuck, you wanted to kiss him so bad.
“Hold me… close to your heart. Touch me… Give all your love to me. To me…”
Did he just pull you closer or was it you that took a step forward? It was hard to tell without seeing where you step, but you suddenly were very aware of the material of his shirt under your chin and the smell of shampoo he used to wash his hair, the pressure of his hand on your lower back and his quiet, drawling voice right next to your ear.
You were positive you’re about to pass out.
And it felt blissful.
Joel kept humming the chorus of the song, his voice getting softer and lower with each word. You relished in the warmth of his embrace, begging any higher power that he won’t let go of you immediately once he stops singing.
He didn’t.
Instead you two kind of naturally came to a stop but neither of you moved, still standing chest to chest and breathing a bit shakily. Your palm – or maybe it was his – was sweaty, but you ignored the unpleasant feeling, wanting to stay like this as long as possible.
“The original is much more lively,” Joel spoke in a soft whisper after some time and you smiled lightly.
“Well, I really liked your version,” you answered just as quietly, not wanting to disturb the intimate atmosphere in the room. “Joel?”
“Yes, darlin’?”
“Can I open my eyes now?”
A moment of silence.
“Yeah.”
You did so, but didn’t move your head, still keeping it on his shoulder and breathing in his scent. “Thank you for that,” you whispered and you felt him nodding.
“Anytime.”
His fingers crept a bit higher up your spine, but still his touch was so light and unsure.
You realized with a flicker of hope that he wasn’t pushing you away. He was pulling you closer.
Careful not to move too abruptly, you lifted your head and turned it to look him in the eyes. They were already on you, so very close, warm and hesitant, but also not showing any signs of discomfort or regret.
“Joel?” you asked again and you were so close to each other, it came out less as a question and more like a quiet breath. He heard it, though.
“Yeah?”
“Can I–”
Suddenly the door downstairs slammed extremely loudly and you both jumped when the noise broke the heavy silence.
“Hello! Is anybody here?!”
Ellie came back.
Both of you automatically took a step backwards, letting go of each other. Your face was scorching hot and you couldn’t force yourself to look at Joel. With a deep (hopefully unnoticed by the man standing right in front of you) breath, you quickly tried to get a grip on yourself when you heard Ellie running up the stairs.
“I was calling you, guys!” she panted and looked from you to the older man. “What’s up?”
“We…” Joel cleared his throat. “Tried to put some music on. The darn thing isn’t workin’, though.”
“Ugh, that’s a bummer.” Ellie turned to you and tilted her head. “Were you out, too? Your face is all red and shit.”
Even if it wasn’t before, it certainly was now. All attention shifted to you in a second and it made you want to cry.
“Yes,” you uttered quickly, “and… I’m actually going out again. I wanted to ask Maria something.”
You didn’t wait for any of them to stop or question you further – you all but ran down the stairs and bolted outside without even taking a jacket or a hat.
Fuck…
Fuck, fuck, fuck!
*****
5. basement, somewhere in colorado
He was dying.
Joel was dying and there was nothing you could do to help him.
You tried your hardest, though, to take care of both him and Ellie. You went out hunting so she wouldn’t have to starve, you encouraged her to get as much rest as possible while you watched over the unconscious man during the night, and not once did you show any doubt that Joel will get better.
But you had a feeling she knew why you were so reluctant to stay behind while the girl took her turn looking for food.  The truth was, you were starting to crack if you sat for too long at Joel’s side, letting the intrusive thoughts take root in your mind. You needed those moments outside, because they were the only ones when you let your tears flow.
So when it was only you and him in the basement, you spent this time brushing the hair out of his face and coaxing him to drink. You checked his wound every so often, trying to keep it as clean as possible. You held his hand, humming to him that one song he sang for you in Jackson, though you didn’t know the words.
It was painful, to just sit in place and be unable to do anything to help, but you tried not to break down. Not when both of them counted on you.
So you stayed strong, hoping it’ll all turn out alright.
But luck still wasn’t on your side.
The men Ellie encountered the day before were here now, looking for you and Joel, and hungry for blood. She told you all about her interaction with them and since yesterday you were ready for a fight in case they showed up, but somehow it still surprised you and made your heart hammer in your chest in fear.
There wasn’t anywhere you could run to, and Joel wasn’t even able to keep his eyes open, let alone walk. You didn’t really have any other options.
So there was only one thing you could do, and that was to protect those closest to you.
You quickly took your backpack and passed Ellie your gun, closing her fingers around the cold metal.
“I’ll barricade the door, but if anyone comes in here, you blast their skull open, you hear me?” you whispered urgently and the girl nodded. You took Joel’s rifle from the floor and hung it over your shoulder. “I’ll try to take them out and lead them away. I’ll be back.”
“You better come back,” Ellie muttered and you looked at her softly, nodding. Then your gaze involuntarily shifted to Joel.
You didn’t know how many people were outside – if there were three or four of them, you should be able to shoot most of them before they notice you. If you don’t miss, that is.
But if there were more…
Choking back a nervous sob, you knelt next to the mattress and took Joel’s head in your hands. His eyes were only half-open and his forehead covered in sweat. Your heart clenched painfully at how weak he looked.
Acting on impulse, you leaned down and softly kissed the place above the corner of his mouth.
“Wake up,” you said to him firmly, brushing his cheeks with your thumbs. “Please, Joel. Ellie and I need you.”
You knew you had to go. You had to go now and make sure those fuckers outside don’t find Ellie and him.
But you stayed just for a second longer to press your forehead to his.
“I love you,” you whispered, so quietly you barely heard yourself.
And then you pulled away and ran upstairs.
From then on it was all a blur. You managed to kill one of the men with a clean shot between his eyes, but the other one ducked out of the way when he noticed you. Turned out there were six of them – too many – and what’s worse, one of them came up behind you, forcing you to flee sooner than you’d planned.
It would probably be wiser to take the horse but you didn’t want to endanger the poor creature, so you ran on foot.
You didn’t get far. One of the men managed to shoot you in the leg, making you keel over onto the frozen ground with a scream of pain. You turned around and saw him lifting his gun again before another voice yelled that he wanted you alive.
No. No, no, you weren’t about to let them take you.
You crawled towards where your rifle lay in the snow but just before you could reach it, it was kicked away by a heavy boot which then dealt a severe blow to your stomach. You doubled over, wheezing and coughing for air. By the time you managed to somehow catch your breath, someone pressed their foot on the gunshot wound in your calf, forcing a scream of agony out of you.
“Now, stay calm. I don’t want to shoot you.”
You clutched at your leg, glaring up at the ginger man who you suspected was the same David Ellie has encountered.
The man grinned nastily at the state you were in, and you didn’t like his expression one bit. He must’ve noticed that you were ready to lunge at him at any moment because he swiftly lifted his gun to your head. You froze.
“Where is your friend and the girl?” he asked quietly. You sneered at him, baring your teeth.
“Fuck you. I ain’t telling you shit.”
“David, she killed Paul,” spat another, younger one, looking down at you with hatred. “If that bastard has already died, let’s at least kill his bitch.”
You tried to think of a way to get out of this situation, but both of the men had their guns pointed at you and you knew you wouldn’t be able to move quickly enough with the gunshot wound.
You tried to move slightly but David pressed his foot harder on your leg, causing more blood to flow from your wound and you cried out, the pain clouding your vision.
“Don’t try anything, sweetheart,” he murmured in a warning tone. “You might bleed out.”
Your eyes were full of hate and rage but you didn’t dare to move again just yet.
“Where are they?” David asked again and you huffed a humorless chuckle while trying not to show how much pain you were in.
“You know that it was me who killed that idiot?” you asked in the most mocking tone you could muster, in the meantime desperately thinking how the fuck you were going to get out of here, preferably alive. “And your friend over there.” You nodded in the direction of where the body of the man you shot was lying. “Which one of you stood next to him? Was it you?” you asked the younger man who shot you in the leg. “I hope I hadn’t splattered you too much with the remnants of his brain.”
“You little bitch,” the other man sneered, lifting his gun again despite David’s stern order to back off. “I’d love to see the face of your friend when I blast your–”
“Leave her alone, you fuckers!!”
All of you turned your heads and your stomach churned when you saw Ellie on the horse you borrowed from Tommy. More shots rang out in the air when she blindly fired at the two men standing above you, and then the rest of the strangers who emerged from between the trees.
“Alive!!” David yelled after his men when they started chasing Ellie who grabbed the reins and cantered in the opposite direction. Then the man turned back to you. “We will catch her. Then we will find your friend, and he’ll pay for his sins.”
You growled.
“I told you it wasn’t him who killed that man.” He shook his head and you fumed with anger. “You don’t think I’m capable of that?”
“Oh, I think you’re capable of a lot.” His stare slid down your body, from head to toe, and terror gripped your heart at the sadistic excitement in his eyes. “And I think you must really care about him if you’re ready to trade your life for his. Such loyalty is admirable, but your love is misplaced.”
The snow around you was getting more and more red and you really started to worry that the bullet might’ve hit an artery. David’s eyes shifted to your leg as well, and he hummed.
“We’ll take care of that, don’t worry. You’ll be well taken care of in our community.”
“I don’t want to be any part of your fucked up sect.”
“You will. You just need a father to lead you to the right path.” He leaned over you in such a manner that it made your blood run cold. “I’ll teach you personally.”
Suddenly a shot echoed in the air and you heard a distant neighing of a horse. Your head automatically turned in the direction of the noise and David took advantage of your moment of distraction to strike your temple with his gun, thus knocking you unconscious.
*****
+1. silver lake
Joel woke up.
And he felt like he was made out of pure adrenaline and rage.
You weren’t with Ellie when he found her staggering through the snow, the face of the teen terrified and covered in blood. He comforted her as best as he could, relief and fear fighting inside him as he held the girl in his arms.
But she didn’t know where you were held. If you were even alive.
And that was a thought that Joel couldn’t bear. He wouldn’t even allow for the possibility that you were no longer…
He vaguely remembered you stroking his cheek with slow and delicate touches, and your humming while he was laying on the mildewed mattress in the basement. Maybe it wasn’t even a memory, but a dream – it was hard to tell in his delirious state.
But he was pretty sure he wasn’t hallucinating when he felt soft, cold lips right next to his and heard your voice – he knew it was your voice, he’d recognize it anywhere – whispering the words he never let himself hope you’d say to him.
Words he would be damned if he didn’t say back to you.
And that’s why he was merciless with the men he encountered on his way to you and Ellie. His own tiredness and pain piercing his abdomen didn’t matter – nothing mattered when you two weren’t with him, when he didn’t know if you were hurt or even still breathing. The desire to help and protect his girls numbed the pain in his stomach so much that he almost forgot he could barely stand just a few hours ago.
Once he found Ellie and took her to a safe location, he went back to look for you. He didn’t want to leave the girl alone, but she seemed terrified at the prospect of going back and through the buildings, so he left her his gun, promising to be right back.
One of the bastards Joel ran across on his way back was helpful enough (after being shot in both knees and having his forearm broken) to direct him to the place where you were supposedly being held – a small building hidden behind the still burning dining room.
No one else stood in his way when he cautiously reached the structure. He went in and started checking every single room, getting more and more anxious every time he found them empty. At one point he was ready to tear the walls apart and go back to see if there was anyone left alive who could tell him where you were – but then spotted a hidden, smaller metal door, which apparently led to the basement.
It wasn’t locked and Joel didn’t hear anything on the other side so he opened it slowly, quickly walking down the stairs and scanning the room for any enemies, but there were none. Half of the room was enclosed by a chain-link fence and the entry to the cage was slightly open.
And inside sat you, with a cloth around your eyes and hands tied above your head.
His knees almost gave way under him from relief when you perked up at the sound of his footsteps. You were alive. You were–
“If you fucking try to touch me again, I’ll break more than your stupid jaw!” you yelled out of the blue, starting to struggle and kick haphazardly, though the placement of your wrists was forcing you to stay in a sitting position. “You motherfucker, don’t come any closer!”
The fear and desperation in your voice broke Joel’s heart in an instant and made him stop dead in his tracks.
“It’s me,” he hurried to say, but his voice was weak and the next words got stuck in his throat when he saw your bloodied nose, bruises on your face and neck, as well as a dirty bandage tied around your calf with a seizable crimson stain on it.
He ushered inside, opening the door to the cell wide open with a loud scraping. You started panicking even more, cursing and kicking when he crouched next to you, intending to untie your hands.
“I said don’t fucking touch me! I’ll kill you!” you screamed and Joel actually had to back away a little to avoid getting kicked in the ribs.
“It’s me!” he said louder, but it was clear you didn’t hear him. In a quick movement he reached out, yanking the blindfold off your eyes, and put his hands on both sides of your face. “It’s me. Joel.”
In the first moment his touch made you recoil and the look of fury deepened on your face while you continued to scream bloody murder. Your eyes were so wild and terrified, Joel wanted nothing more than to pull you close to his chest and never let go. 
“Look at me, baby. It’s alright,” he whispered soothingly, brushing his thumbs over your cheekbones like he vaguely remembered you doing when he was unconscious. “It’s me. I won’t let anyone hurt you.”
Your eyes slowly started to focus on his face for the first time since he took the blindfold off, and Joel felt like something was tearing his chest apart at the sight of fear and disbelief on your face.
“It’s okay, darlin’,” he muttered in a strangled voice, trying not to show he was close to crying, too. “It’s me. You’re safe now.”
A broken sob issued from your throat when you took in the sight of him, your eyes lingering on his face and stomach where the wound was.
“...Joel?”
“I’m here,” he said softly, quickly cutting the ropes binding you to the indent in the wall and wincing when he saw the red and purple marks around your wrists. “It’s okay.”
It wasn’t okay, not for you and not for him. Your body was trembling when he finally cut your hands free and without hesitation gathered you in his arms. It seemed like all the bottled up stress was pouring out of you now with the tears as you cried into his jacket and he held you tighter.
“J-Joel…”
“I know, babygirl,” he whispered into your hair, rocking you both back and forth slightly. You were clinging to him almost desperately and it pained him physically to see how scared you’ve been this whole time, but you were safe now, you were back with him and you were alive… “I know. I’m so sorry.”
You pulled away abruptly and looked over his shoulder, your face crumpling in despair when you saw no one there.
“They took Ellie, I don’t know where–”
“She’s safe,” he quickly assured you. “She got out and I found her just before comin’ here.”
You nodded with a sigh of relief, and he shifted his gaze to your calf, gently laying his hand just above the bandage.
“How’s your leg? Can you walk?”
“One of those fuckers shot me,” you murmured, not moving or attempting to stand up, which concerned Joel. “I didn’t really have a chance to see if I’ll be able to stand on my own but they sewed it up provisionally.” Your eyes flickered to his and you smiled softly, brushing your fingers over the back of his hand. “Not as well as you, though.” Then your smile disappeared and your hand grabbed his in a firm grip, like you wanted to make sure he was really here. “How are you, though? I was… Shit, I was so afraid I’d lose you.”
Joel could only stare at you, having no clue what to say.
He was not good at talking. He knew what he should do, though – he should examine your leg and make sure it was alright, he should go back to Ellie and get you two out of here, he should calm down his goddamn pounding heart so that he doesn’t pass out and cause you any more trouble.
But he couldn’t will his muscles to move. He couldn’t do anything, he couldn’t think about anything at all – not when you were sitting in front of him, looking at him with those tearful, gorgeous eyes of yours, holding his hand so tenderly but firmly, your touch so soothing, so familiar, and he remembered vaguely the same fingertips caressing his face.
And your voice, those words…
You said his name haltingly, but he didn’t register any of that, instead letting the overwhelming feelings of relief and fear, and – and adoration – take hold over his body, and he affectionately took your beautiful face in his hands.
Your eyes widened slightly but then these irises he dreamt about so often flickered to his lips and your own parted slightly, and that was all he needed before he leaned in and kissed you deeply.
There was a moment of hesitation on your part during which Joel began to worry that he didn’t read the situation right after all, but then you cupped his cheeks, too, and pressed yourself closer to him, letting him envelop your form in his arms with a quiet sigh.
It was better than he could have ever imagined. He could taste a hint of blood on your lips and hot, blinding rage surged through his veins at the thought of those bastards hurting you. His kiss turned harder and more desperate – he needed to make sure you were really here with him, he wanted to feel your every breath in his own lungs. You didn’t pull away, only tangling your fingers in his short hair, and the small noises you were making were driving Joel crazy with lust and relief. He felt dizzy, like he was going to faint again but he pushed through it, keeping his attention solely on you.
The second you two parted, even before you had a chance to catch your breath, the words started spilling out of his mouth fumblingly.
“Listen, I… I heard you,” he whispered, panting like he just ran a mile – and his heart certainly acted like he did. “M’pretty sure I wasn’t halucinatin’, but even if– doesn’t matter, I want… no, I need to tell you this, I…”
He exhaled nervously and shook his head, avoiding eye contact with you because he was damn sure he'd burst into flames if you looked at him like that again.
Fuck, he was really not good at this.
He cursed under his breath, missing a concerned look you gave him, and felt your hand covering his where it was still situated on your cheek. He knew that with this gesture you wanted to make it easier for him somehow, but it only caused his chest to get even warmer and tighter. “Joel, slow down–”
“I… I love you,” he finally choked out, softly brushing your cheekbones with his thumbs. And damn his old, faulty heart, he wanted to gaze into your eyes again, even if it was going to kill him, so that’s exactly what he did. “I loved you for so long, darlin’, and I got so fuckin’ scared that I won’t be able to tell you and, and it’s okay if I only imagined you saying that and you don’t feel that way, but I needed to tell you, I…”
All strength left him when he paused to draw a breath. His vision was becoming blurry and for a second he was certain he’s losing consciousness again, but it turned out they were only tears filling his eyes, blurring your form before him.
Which was even worse, somehow.
“I’m sorry.” He intended to sound reassuring and strong but it came out more like a broken whisper and he hated himself for feeling so weak and helpless when you and Ellie needed comfort and strength. He couldn’t help it though – all this time when he was looking for his girls the only things that kept him going were anger, terror and regret. Now there was relief, yes, but… he felt so very tired and old.
You turned your head slightly to plant a soft kiss on the inside of his palm, and Joel’s head snapped up. Tears were filling your eyes and he immediately scanned your body for other injuries, any signs of damage or pain, but then this gorgeous smile he so loved illuminated your face, and it put all of his anxieties at ease.
“You weren’t hallucinating,” you said quietly. “I did say that. And I love you, too, Joel.”
He couldn’t help a short, breathless and broken laugh that escaped him when he really heard you speaking those words, this time as clearly as day.
You sniffled and mirrored his smile, and in the next second Joel was kissing you again.
He knew you two had to go, had to get back to Ellie and leave this god-forsaken place, so he tried to be quick, but you – your smile, your touch, all of you – were so distracting and not eager to help him pull away in the slightest.
“I love you too, babygirl, love you so much.” He peppered your face with kisses, ignoring tears running down his cheeks and disappearing into his beard and under your hands. “So fuckin’ much… Don’t ever scare me like that again.”
“Because your old heart can’t handle it?” you teased and he huffed a laugh. A damn tease in every situation, he wanted to say, but before he had a chance to chide you, you pulled him in for another deep kiss. Joel decided you’re off the hook this time.
“Exactly, darlin’. Now hold onto my arm, we’re gonna see if you can stand, and then we’re goin’ back to Ellie.”
A hiss and a grunt of pain escaped you when he attempted to pull you to your feet, but you gritted your teeth and shook your head quickly when he froze, worry evident on his face. Turned out you could stand on your own and even slowly limp forward, but clearly had to push through intense pain to do so. Joel offered you his shoulder (against which his tired body protested immediately) but it made walking easier for you, so he sucked it up.
“I got you,” he whispered when he helped you up the stairs, keeping an arm around your waist for support. You whimpered every time you had to climb up a step, and Joel took hold of your hand, brushing his thumb over your skin lovingly. “That’s a good girl. Just a couple more.”
You didn’t let go of his hand even after these ‘couple more’ steps.
He kept his hand on your shoulder when you finally got reunited with Ellie and tears of relief spilled out of your eyes.
You tangled your fingers with his when the three of you were leaving this cursed, cruel place.
You all held each other when Ellie broke down and you both hugged her tightly, trying to make her feel safe again.
He hooked his little finger over yours, not wanting to drag you down when he started to lean on you, getting significantly weaker from how far he traveled and how hard he fought in the state he was in.
You grasped his hand again that night when you laid down next to him in his sleeping bag while Ellie was curled close to the two of you on Joel’s other side.
He didn’t let go when he leaned in to kiss you again, keeping his touch soft and gentle, and pulled you as close as he could, murmuring words of love and sweet promises into your hair.
Both of you knew you had a lot to talk about in the upcoming days – and probably even weeks. All three of you needed time to heal, physically as well as mentally.
But just for this moment, Joel couldn’t be happier and more relieved as it was slowly dawning on him that after this horrible, hellish nightmare, he had both of you right next to him, breathing and alive, and not chased by anyone for now. Two persons he loved in very different ways, but who were his entire world, whether he was ready to admit it or not.
As if reading his thoughts, you shifted slightly and kissed the edge of his jaw sleepily. His eyes closed, hiding the wetness in them.
He really couldn’t believe his luck.
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bitbugbites-re · 7 months
Text
𝙻𝚊𝚙 𝙿𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠 | 𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔠𝔞𝔫𝔬𝔫𝔰
Headcanons on how different RE men would give you their lap as a pillow (and vice versa!)
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tumblr exclusive!
characters: Albert Wesker, Carlos Oliveira, Chris Redfield, Ethan Winters, Leon S. Kennedy
gender: gn! reader
cw: FLUFF, (slight) NSFW // lap pillow // ktober
a/n: there are THREE vers. of leon in this post because they give that boy WAY too many damn personalities (re3r, re4r, re6)
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𝕬𝖑𝖇𝖊𝖗𝖙 𝖂𝖊𝖘𝖐𝖊𝖗 (any rendition)
Giving you his lap:
Doesn't typically invite you to lay on his lap, you usually are the one to just wiggle your way onto him
Once he picks up on you liking it though, he'd probably offer when you were sad or upset about something
&
The dude has got rock-hard thighs because of his genetic mutations
It starts to get uncomfy pretty quick, so you gotta grab a pillow for yourself to place under your head (never back down, never WHAT?!)
Sometimes he grabs the pillow for you absent-mindedly because he knows you're gonna ask/get up for it
& NSFW
Usually never leads to anything nsfw, especially so if he's working while you're on his lap
I really only ever see it leading to nsfw stuff in the event that you approach him with the intention of seducing him (in which case it'll be you servicing him -- only sometimes it'll lead to full-on sex, as long as you're forward about wanting it)
Using your lap:
He doesn't automatically lay on your lap -- you're the one who offers it to him and he usually turns it down
It's not that he doesn't like it, he just isn't someone who is too big on physical touch
he also feels embarrassed laying in such a position
&
When he does lay on your lap, it's usually because you put him there against his will (typically when he's sad)
he secretly likes it
You like to stare into his eyes since they're such a unique color. he claims to hate it (he doesn't, he's just prideful and won't admit he likes cheesy lovey-dovey things)
Gets mad at you if you mess up his hair (doesn't physically stop you though, just grumbles and complains about it half-heartedly)
Can't fall asleep no matter how comfortable your legs are. he's just very particular in the way he falls asleep (and everything else, too)
If he doesn't have anything else to do, he'll usually just lay there and wait for you to fall asleep. If you do, he'll get up and carry you to the bedroom, covering you up before going back to work
& NSFW
Doesn't usually lead to anything nsfw in this scenario either
You gotta lay it on thick if you want him. he's a smart man and he can pick up on social cues -- he just isn't the type to have a high enough sex drive that causes him to jump at every opportunity available
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𝕮𝖆𝖗𝖑𝖔𝖘 𝕺𝖑𝖎𝖛𝖊𝖎𝖗𝖆 (re3r)
Giving you his lap:
Will both offer and/or just randomly place you on his lap 24/7
If you get on his lap first without him saying anything, he gets really excited. The "my-cat-fell-asleep-on-me" kind of excited
&
He's got substantially thick legs. Can be pretty comfortable to lay on when his legs are relaxed -- although sometimes he tenses his legs unconsciously and you have to ask him to unflex them
Has a little bit of trouble staying still for a prolonged period of time. He'll start out pretty still, but if you're having a conversation or he gets too into it, he'll make a lot of movements with his arms and/or upper body
Constantly in awe of you. Trying to look at your face, trying to pet your hair or rub your legs, etc. Just can't get enough of you.
He likes talking to you as you lay on him, too. Not very silent unless you fall asleep on him, in which case, he often glances down to look at your face. Will take pictures of you if you're okay with it, too.
& NSFW
Leads to nsfw things pretty often. In this scenario, you're the one to initiate it most of the time since you're the one by his package
Gets an almost immediate boner every time. Dude's got a high sex-drive and it doesn't take much from you to work him up
If you do end up playing with him in some way, he'll either want to pay you back or have full-on sex
Using your lap:
Literally just throws himself down on you. Most of the time you don't even have to ask if he wants to use your lap. He just does
&
Makes you pet his hair. Rub his facial scruff. Touch his arms. Dude is needy af
If you're eating something while he's on your lap, he'll just let you feed him. Seriously, you just stick stuff in his mouth and he eats it without saying anything
If your legs start to fall asleep and you ask him to get off, he'll just swap positions with you and put you on his lap instead
Will make you take selfies together while he's on your lap. Then proceeds to send them to his friends (usually Tyrell) as a way to brag about how he has a cool partner
Falls asleep on you really easily and snores loud as FUCK
& NSFW
Will start to get extra touchy if he wants to initiate sex. He'll reach up and cup your face, wrap his arms around your midriff and snuggle his head into you, etc.
Starts by giving you oral and it's usually the gentle, slow, loving kind.
If it leads to normal sex, it's probably going to take place on the same surface where he was lying on your lap (i.e. -- couch, bed, floor, etc.)
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𝕮𝖍𝖗𝖎𝖘 𝕽𝖊𝖉𝖋𝖎𝖊𝖑𝖉 (re: death island)
Giving you his lap:
Occasionally offers his lap to you. Doesn't do it too much because he's not always thinking about it
Most of the time his offers are either because you're sad or because you're watching something together
&
His thighs are a mix between hard and soft. He's pretty muscular, so at first you'd be expecting more of a solid feeling, but it's not as bad as you'd have guessed. It's a just-right type of deal. (could be due to the fact that he's getting older...)
Isn't super touchy. He'll rest his arm along your body, maybe, but other than that he doesn't do anything too extra. The two of you kinda just enjoy the idle comfort from one another
Very chill kind of lover. Wouldn't get mad if you started getting a bit squirmy or tried readjusting your head's position every 3 seconds
If you have a bowl of popcorn, he's reaching in a grabbing handfuls for himself -- doesn't notice he's eating most of your snack either. (he'll apologize and get up to make another bowl for the both of you, though. And then he'll eat most of that, too)
& NSFW
I don't see him initiating anything out of the blue, or even if he's turned on in this scenario. I do think though that if he got a boner, he'd kinda just awkwardly wait for it to go down. In that case, you'd be the initiator, offering to help him out
Would be fine stopping after reaching his orgasm. Might offer to play with you using his hands. He'd be open to sex if you suggested it.
Using your lap:
Never lays in your lap on his own. Often turns you down when you offer him to lay in your lap
I feel like he likes being in more dominant positions, if that makes sense? He likes being the big-spoon, while you're the little spoon
&
In the rare occurrence that you do get him on your lap, it's just kinda awkward. He just lies there with his arms crossed
Tries to get comfortable, but can't. He's a big guy, so it's a little tricky for him
Tries his best to stay on your lap if that's what you want, but eventually gives up. Offers for you to either lay on his lap or lay against his chest instead
& NSFW
Not much, if any nsfw things result from this scenario
Maybe if you started running your hands along his arms or touching on his chest, something would happen. He'd probably make a flirty joke about you feeling him up, and then things would go on from there
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𝕰𝖙𝖍𝖆𝖓 𝖂𝖎𝖓𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖘 (re7, re8)
Giving you his lap:
Offers his lap whenever he's trying to be romantic or considerate of you. Really only offers because he thinks you like it
Not to say that he doesn't like it -- he'll take any kind of touch from you -- he just doesn't have any kind of preference. Touch is touch
&
He's got soft thighs. He's not built, but he's not in bad shape either -- he's got a very average build, so his legs are pretty comfortable to lay on.
A lot of the time, he plans to ask you if you want to lay on his lap beforehand. He'll make snacks and lay them out on the coffee table, or he'll light some candles in the bedroom -- it all feels very loving and soft
He likes to place his arm under yours and hold your hand while you watch something. He does the circular thumb movement, too
If you have a baby together, and it starts to cry, he'll grab a pillow and put it down under your head before going to check on the child
& NSFW
Honestly, you're the one jumping him most of the time, and it's not because he doesn't take initiative -- it's because the way he cares for you turns you on
Usually starts once you lean up to kiss him...and keep kissing him
If you're in the living room, he takes you to the bedroom to have sex. It's the kind that's very gentle, slow, and passionate
He gives great aftercare, too. Cleans you both up, and carries you to the shower if you want to take one
Using your lap:
He'll lay in your lap if you suggest it to him, although he doesn't do it on his own very much.
Thinks it's cute when you ask him, and he cracks jokes as he goes to lie down
&
Makes sure to be very still. Tries not to readjust his head too much, thinking he might annoy you with it
Usually keeps his arms crossed when his head's on your lap. Again, tries not to move too frequently
If you have a kid, they'll try to take your other leg, and Ethan thinks it's funny that you've got two people on your lap
Your kid will request that you pet their head, and Ethan will follow along teasingly. You end up running your hands through both of their hair
& NSFW
If he starts rubbing your knee or the area above it, you know he's trying to start something up
You often say something along the lines of, "I know what you're trying to do," and he laughs and admits it
He'll lean up and kiss you, and then the two of you will take things to the bedroom. Again, you have very gentle, slow sex -- plus good aftercare
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𝕷𝖊𝖔𝖓 𝕾. 𝕶𝖊𝖓𝖓𝖊𝖉𝖞 (re2r)
Giving you his lap:
Will offer you his lap sometimes -- he can be a little absent-minded, so it's pretty much an occasional thing unless he notices you frequently putting yourself in his lap
He's a little shy about you laying on his legs, but he likes it a lot
&
He's got really comfortable thighs to lay on. They've got a slight bit of muscle to them, but not too much
He's a little awkward when it comes to knowing what to do with his hands. He'll pet your head, but he does so with a strange rhythm -- or accidentally yank a little bit of your hair. He then apologizes profusely and pulls his hand away. If you want him to keep touching you in some way, you have to guide his arm/hand down and place it where you want it
The first few times you lay on his lap, he's pretty stiff. As your relationship continues, however, he gets used to it
Will quietly fall asleep after a while and you won't even know it until you try saying something, noticing that he isn't responding
Occasionally mumbles stupid stuff in his sleep. Sometimes you can hold a conversation with him and he won't even remember it
& NSFW
You're the one who initiates it most of the time. He'll get a boner and you'll tease him -- he'll flirtatiously tease back, and you'll end up servicing him where you're sitting
If you're in the living room he worries about staining the couch, but will let you continue if you tell him to not worry about it
Passionate, fairly vanilla sex. He doesn't really like being too rough with you because he worries he might be hurting you
Decent aftercare -- he cleans you up first, and once you're both cleaned up, he asks if you want to go back to lying on his lap
Using your lap:
Only occasionally he will put himself on your lap of his own volition. Usually, you're the one to ask him if he wants to use your legs as a pillow, and agree
Very rarely turns you down, if at all. It makes him really happy when you offer your lap up to him
&
Tells you almost every time how comfortable your thighs feel.
He likes it a lot when you touch him. Leon likes you petting his hair, rubbing his arm, but his favorite out of every option is when you take his hand and hold it. It feels like a very tender moment to him
Likes to talk to you while he's on you. Whether it be about the show you're watching, his day, your day -- he's talking
Sometimes he will spell things out on your leg using his finger and make you guess what it says. It's usually something random like "cactus," or "pizza"
& NSFW
The two of you will tease and flirt with one another, and that's what leads to things heating up. He'll sit up and start to kiss you, and that's typically the cue that the two of you will be having sex
Sometimes he starts with oral in this kind of scenario, sometimes it just leads straight to a little bit of foreplay then sex
Again, very vanilla, but loving and caring sex. He gives good aftercare here, too
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𝕷𝖊𝖔𝖓 𝕾. 𝕶𝖊𝖓𝖓𝖊𝖉𝖞 (re4r)
Giving you his lap:
Knows when you could use his lap, and offers it accordingly. He has a good sense of what you need, and when -- even when you're not upset
Feels very comforted when you accept, and likes the feeling of your weight on him
&
He has really nice legs, and they're fairly soft. They aren't as cushiony as when he was younger (re2r), but still comfortable to lie on
No longer awkward with his hands, knows exactly what to do with them. He's got very smooth, rhythmic movements as well
Doesn't fall asleep with you in his lap as much as he used to, but it'll happen occasionally. He tries his best to stay awake, wanting to spend time with you -- even though it's hard for him because he doesn't get as much sleep anymore and he gets really relaxed with you around him
If you feel him up, he'll laugh and tease you about it. He thinks it's funny when you poke into the fatty-muscled part of his arms and legs
& NSFW
Using him as a lap pillow leads to nsfw things quite a lot. Sometimes it's started by you touching him up, sometimes it's started by back-and-forth teasing, sometimes it's started by him asking for a kiss
The sex has gotten a little less vanilla over time -- nothing too crazy, but the two of you have definitely explored many more positions, kinks, etc. as time went on
He's got a routine down for aftercare as well -- the two of you know what the other likes, meaning that you're both left feeling pretty satisfied after the deed is done
Using your lap:
Doesn't really put himself on your lap randomly anymore. Over time, he's realized he prefers having you on his legs instead -- but he's not against laying on your thighs
If he does put himself on you, it's usually for good-times sake
&
He still compliments you on how soft your legs are
Leon falls asleep much more on your lap than when you're on his. Sometimes it knocks him out right away -- he just can't help it
Loves when you move his bangs out of his eyes, especially if the two of you are watching something
He now automatically takes your hand in his, holding it. He doesn't let it go, either, even if he falls asleep in your lap. There's no getting it back until the two of you separate
Doesn't make conversation as much as he used too -- as he got more comfortable over time, he didn't always feel the need to fill in the silent gaps. He does make quite a few quippy one-liners if you're watching something, though
Leon still plays the word-drawing game with his finger on your body, except now he chooses harder words like "potassium," or "armadillo" (though, sometimes, he misspells them and the two of you laugh about it)
& NSFW
His new cue for initiating sex is by squeezing and playing with your leg -- although flirting and teasing still leads to sex between the two of you a lot, also.
The sex ranges from slow and gentle, to fast and passionate. It just depends on what kind of mood the two of you are in
Again, the two of you have a pretty good aftercare routine going, and you're usually very cuddly with one another once you've both finished
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𝕷𝖊𝖔𝖓 𝕾. 𝕶𝖊𝖓𝖓𝖊𝖉𝖞 (re6)
Giving you his lap:
Even years later, he's still really good at predicting when you want to use his lap. He offers it at all the right times
Thinks it's cute that the two of you have this years-long tradition going on. He jokes that someday, you'll be in the retirement home together trying to get onto his lap haphazardly
&
His legs got a lot more hard as time went on. You joke around, telling him that he's hard as a brick now -- but you secretly still enjoy resting on his lap as much as you used to when his thighs were softer
Falls asleep a lot like he did in the beginning -- he's getting old and more tired as time goes on. However, he is good at staying awake if the two of you are watching something
If you like to watch reality TV, he shits all over it/the people in it (He secretly likes it though; his favorite is The Bachelor)
You've started joking around with him, telling him to take his shirt off when you're in his lap -- you tell him that you don't know how many years left you'll have to look at his abs, and that you need to enjoy them thoroughly before they're gone (he only laughs and tells you he'll have them forever, 'till the day he dies)
& NSFW
Still leads to nsfw things, although not as much as when the two of you were younger
You're not as wild, doing crazy positions -- but you do try different, smaller things to spice it up in the bedroom occasionally
Aftercare is still the same, although sometimes you're the one cleaning him up now -- for some reason, despite his job, sex seems to take the life out of him
Using your lap:
Started putting his head back onto your lap more. He does it in a joking manner, but it became special to him overtime due to your guys' history of doing it
If you have a kid, and they like putting their head on your lap, he uses them as an excuse. He'll make some silly joke, telling you that he needs attention, too
&
Instead of complimenting your legs, he now presses kisses to them randomly. He knows that over time you became a little more conscious of your body, so he started doing this to ensure you he still thinks you're beautiful
Both him and your kid will fall asleep on your lap. Sometimes one of them will snore really loud and wake the other up --you try to stifle a laugh every time it happens
Lets you or your kid tie his bangs up so that he can see the TV without them getting in his eyes. He thinks it's funny
Still makes you put your arm around him, holding onto his hand. Over time, he's started kissing it every once in a while, as well. He's very affectionate with you
The finger word-drawing game has reached a new height. He has started googling impossibly long and difficult words. You can't even beat him anymore -- and you can never tell if he's actually spelling the words right
& NSFW
Leon still squeezes your leg to signal that he wants you -- although he's a little less playful with it, as he's conscious that you're a little more sensitive about your body nowadays
Again, pretty normal sex-life for your ages -- if not a little more frequent than others like your peers
Your aftercare is still the same as well. You and Leon have no complaints, and the two of you will likely continue your routine until you can't anymore
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For the official and original Kinktober 23 prompts, check here. Credits to @kinktober2023 for the ideas!
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1K notes · View notes
rubra-wav · 2 months
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how do you think Hazbin Hotel characters would react to a demon with butterfly wings?
The main Hazbin cast x Butterfly demon reader
Part 2 >
A/N: This wasn't really specific with what charas specifically, so I'm just doing the main cast. I'll do a part 2 with more characters, though, if it's wanted (sorry)
Reader's wings are written as colourful and proportionate to their body, so they are pretty big.
Realised there's a 10 image limit per post, which is bs. Isn't how i normally would have liked it to be aesthetically bc of that 👎
Cw: Sfw, slightly suggestive stuff in Angel's, reference to decapitation and cannibalism 💀, kinda a bit angsty in Angel's and Vaggie's, gn! Reader
Charlie
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- Charlie would be absolutely delighted by you, no doubt about it.
- She wants nothing more than to be in a place that's vividly colourful and (assuming reader is a somewhat colourful butterfly demon) you'd be that for her.
- She also probably just really really likes butterflies in general though, let's be real.
- I can imagine her just staring at your wings with absolutely starry eyes while complimenting them.
- "They're so pretty ohhh my gosh!"
- I imagine her being lightly jealous, she'd love to have wings like a butterfly.
- Would probably ask if she can touch, and look somewhat sad when told no due to how it would cause your scales to come off. (Assuming reader's wings are the same as normal butterfly wings)
- It may get somewhat uncomfortable if you don't like attention, she would definitely fixate heavily on them. Tell her to stop though and it's making you feel weird and she will tone it down though.
- If not, though, enjoy the attention you're gonna be getting from Charlie over them.
Vaggie
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- Vaggie would likely be a bit uncomfortable about seeing demons with wings in general due to her history - let alone you with beautiful, delicate ones.
- I think she'd secretly be hiding some angst and jealously about your wings ngl.
- When she sees Charlie fawning over them though oh boy.
- Yeah she's not gonna be happy about them then. She doesn't blame you or anything for how she's feeling as it's her issue and she knows that, but it still hurts quite a bit - especially in the beginning.
- It gets less and less bad though the more she gets used to it, she kind of just becomes 'meh' about it - especially if you ask Charlie to stop being so gaga about them.
- When she gets her wings back, though, I think she'd come to think they are cool. A normal level appreciation though.
- I can half see you two helping each other out with your wings down the line if you two get closer though.
- There are some things that come with upkeep so wings don't become damaged and stuff, so the people who also have wings? Allies 100%.
Angel
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- I'm gonna be fr, the first time your wings come out he's probably gonna be panicked due to his baggage.
- Especially if it happens when you're angry.
- He's probably gonna need reassurance you aren't gonna try hurt him tbh.
- As sad as it is, his trauma would definitely play a part in his initial perception of them.
- After he recovers a bit and stops immediately going into fight or flight and seeing you =/= Val though, the switch up is insane.
- He would be all over you about them.
- I can imagine him calling you a bunch of butterfly related petnames.
- If you remember the 'make those wings flap' comments he made about Husk, its gonna be that on a hundred.
- Even if it's just joking flirting about them, it's gonna be constant because he thinks they are beautiful and it's a lot of material considering you're a butterfly and he's a spider.
- I feel like he would touch them at some point without really thinking and pull his hand back to see your scales have rubbed off onto his hand and go ''oh shit.''
Husk
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- I don't think he'd have much of a reaction to it at all - at least not initially.
- Of course he acknowledges that they are very pretty, but he won't comment upon it much at all unlike the others.
- Possibly may make reference to it when crafting bitter statements directed towards you, though.
- Down the line, if you grow closer to him, I can see him as actually being concerned about your wings.
- They are extremely eye-catching and unique for a being in hell, and due to that, it could lead demons to actively target you
- Whether with overt aggressive intentions to take your wings and sell them, or with more covert problems like you being scouted for modelling (ie. By Velvette)
- I can see Vaggie and you trying to set up a wing maintenance group and trying to include him in it. Him being vehemently against it to a level that's almost comedic.
- You eventually convince him even though he's complaining the whole way through it. (He is lying and actually enjoys it).
Pentious
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- He wouldn't like them at all in the beginning.
- They're big and bulky and get in the way of everything, including him.
- The amount of times he's accidentally fallen due to 'tripping' on your giant ass wings is greatly irritating and embarrassing to him.
- Possibly thinks you keep trying to kill him by tripping him.
- Could also see his 'hair' (idk how to properly refer to it, haha), accidentally brushing up against your wings with how expressive it is and getting your scales all over him.
- Basically, he doesn't like them because he's clumsy but will take it out on you.
- I also get the vibe he'd be jealous because of how eye-catching they are.
- In his mind, if he had wings like that, then he'd surely have been acknowledged by the Vees in some way.
- If you change your habits with your wings to be conscious of him not being able to walk normally and start getting onto better terms, though, he will likely become appreciative of them and stop being so pissy about them.
- They are very cool looking to him, and once his poor attitude wears off about them, he'll come to admit that.
Alastor
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- He'd actually be somewhat weary of you in the beginning.
- It's nature's law that creatures that do not bother to hide themselves are not to be messed with - especially in a place like hell of all places.
- When he sees that you just happen to be particularly colourful, he drops that, though.
- He'd honestly probably be thinking of what it would be like to eat a demon like you after confirming you are, in fact, not poisonous or dangerous at all.
- He doesn't much care all that much for the intrinsic beauty of things as long as they aren't utterly ugly, and as long as they aren't obnoxious and in your face.
- Depending on how bright and vibrant they are and how much attention you bring to them, he may actually dislike them.
- If not, though, he acknowledges they are nice to look at, but again, doesn't really care about them outside of theorising how they would be to eat.
- Would probably make comments about how he could "just eat your wings up," or ask you about how you taste just to try to freak you out.
Niffty
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- When she sees them, her eyes grow wide in a mixture of surprise and awe. At the exact same time, an unhinged smirk spreads across her face.
- She then proceeds to leap at you, scissors or whatever sharp object is closest to her raised at your wings.
- She'd be absolutely trying to take a piece out of them for her 'collection' 💀
- You're gonna need medical attention after she's done with you because she's hellbent.
- Her obsessiveness over your wings would vary depending on your gender but either way, she'd be trying to get a piece of them for herself.
- Definitely abnormal level of appreciation of them in the absolute worst way.
- If you can get her to stop instantly trying to cut off parts of them, she's still constantly trying to touch them. You need to complain about your scales every damn time she tries to reach out to touch it without fail.
- it's like your wings are a beacon, and she's the insect gunning for it ironically.
524 notes · View notes
awrkive · 7 months
Text
[DRABBLE] COLD NIGHTS & BLURRED LINES (m) — JJK.
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you were used to jungkook making the first move every single time but this particular night, you couldn't help but change things up a little bit.
PAIRING jungkook x (fem) reader
GENRE r18+ (minors dni pls)
WORD COUNT 4.1k (this is def not a drabble anymore but its like 70% smut anyway saur 🤷🏼‍♀️)
WARNINGS/MISC jk in grey tracksuit 😢 oc is not a procrastinator everybody booed. kinda domestic vibes everyone wants to have what they have including ms delusional me !! this is my literally me fic kinda (this is literally just oc thirsting over jungkook OEBDIDHSJEB) also imagine 3D jungkook guys.... 🙏🏼 smut warnings: oral s*x (m&f receiving, 69 position), penetrative s*x, multiple positions, overst*mulation, creampies, unprotected s*x (dont fls 🙏🏼)
NOTES heyyy so i reread cnbl last night and scrolled thru unanswered messages on my inbox and found these 2 (amongst many IEBDIDHSHD) drabble reqs for cnbl and decided to write it bcs i love and miss them!! unfortunately i lost my ao3 password and i have nowhere to post this so whatever im gonna start posting here again LMFAOOOO. anyway, i hope u guys enjoy this 💗 this is most esp dedicated to the second anon i hate college as well i hope this drabble brings you joy ☺️
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‼️CN&BL FULL FIC CAN BE READ HERE
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You missed who you were thirty minutes ago.
Before Jungkook arrived, you were extremely focused on the essay you've been stalling to get done since last week.
You were set on finishing the paper tonight, determined to submit it a day prior to the deadline – which is two days from now. You've never been a procrastinator and you wouldn't dare start now. But ever since Jungkook called, arriving a little over five minutes after your conversation on the phone and entering your dorm room, you have never been the same. Gone was your will to finish your essay; it yeeted out the window the moment he came in.
It wasn't that he was doing anything wrong, per se. He wasn't pestering you or doing anything to distract you from doing whatever it was you were doing. During the phone call, Jungkook told you he just wanted to hang around and you were in on it. "As long as I finish this essay without you doing anything funny" – that, was what you said. Joking, a little pointed, when he came barging in your door, socks on and hair still slightly wet from the shower he most probably had at his own apartment.
When you said those words, the goof just wiggled his brows, smirking with a look of mischief written all over his face, and then kissed you in such an unnecessarily passionate way that had you internally keening when he broke away. That gave you an initial idea that he would, indeed, do some funny business. If you were honest to yourself, you wouldn't have really minded that at all.
That was thirty minutes ago. Jungkook surprisingly hasn't tried to touch you at all for the past thirty minutes. In the present, he is just sprawled on your bed watching something on your stupid iPad, airpods plugged in both ears, letting you work in peace on your laptop.
Thirty minutes ago, that would've been fine. Because ultimately, you could focus on your essay and finish it then pass it way before the deadline but no, your problem right this moment does not lie on phonology, it lies on why does Jungkook have to lean his back on the headboard, thick eyebrows meeting each other every now and then as he watched his movies, and put that white t-shirt and grey sweatpants on himself?
You've been having an internal battle with yourself trying to fight the urge to look over your shoulders for him every three damn minutes, groaning quietly as you thought about how Jungkook looked so ridiculously hot doing the bare minimum. Literally nothing. He was doing absolutely nothing. And he was making you feel weird in your belly!
Wait. Is it your period? It ended two weeks ago, though, so that is definitely not that. Maybe you are ovulating? You'd have to check your flow app.
Absent-mindedly, you let out the begrudging moan you've been trying to hide.
"God."
As if alarmed, Jungkook suddenly shoots up and speaks after what felt like centuries.
"You okay? Am I bothering you here?" He said, voice dripping with honey and face full of concern. You got even hornier.
Oh my god. You wanted to cry.
You send him a tight-lipped smile. "I'm fine. And uh, no. You're good."
Jungkook doesn't pry further and goes back to his binge. Meanwhile, you force yourself to think of something.
Another long five minutes later, and you are still halfway done with your essay. The unfinished document only seems to taunt you. So, you let out another sigh, quite quiet this time so you don't make Jungkook think he was being an inconvenience. You made up your mind and just decided to give in to your urges.
You shut your laptop down instead of pressing sleep as you are sure there is no way you can do any more work tonight.
Standing up from your seat, you approach Jungkook on your bed.
He looks up at you the moment you hovered over him, taking his eyes off the iPad. When the mattress dips from your weight, Jungkook's lips stretch into a cute smile.
Your horniness dissipates a little over his adorable face.
"Done?" He asks, lifting a hand over your face to tuck a strand of hair away that you didn't even notice. You shake your head. Jungkook leans down to kiss your cheek. "So, tired?"
You scrunch your nose. "Kinda."
He kisses your mouth when a pout forms there.
"Eaten anything yet?" Jungkook scoots over to the side to make room on the bed for you. You fit yourself in the space, albeit tight (this was a dorm room, alright), and Jungkook is quick to slide his arm under your neck while he still holds the iPad on the other.
"Just reheated some leftover pasta from last night." You cringe over your last meal. It didn't taste good at all but you were way too hungry and delivery took forever to your dorm.
Jungkook seems to know that that pasta was shit, but he doesn't comment on that. Just hums and kisses the side of your head.
Ugh.
"Wanna order something in? Thai?" He suggests, looking at you.
But right now, eating Thai or whatever is the last thing on your mind. Though you would like to eat something else.
You tell him so. Except the last part, of course. Please. You have decorum.
"Uhm, no. I think I'll pass on that. Unless you haven't eaten." you say, playfully pointing a finger to his chest.
"Nah, Taehyung cooked dinner. I'm pretty full." Jungkook says, chuckling.
You had a smart remark on your tongue, something along the lines of, "Then why'd you offer to eat if you already have, weirdo" but to be honest with yourself, you already knew why. Jungkook liked seeing you eat. Dude practically buys most of your meals, now that you think about it.
But your still horny-adled brain went to go and tell your hand to search for his bare stomach under his shirt. And so it did. Forget about having decorum, shame is out the door when you press your palm to the flat surface of his stomach.
"Doesn't feel full at all." You commented, feeling the hard ridges of his abs. You hate them right now. But you would also really, really, like to see them.
Jungkook only chuckles at that. Before he can say anything, you ask him, "Hey, quick question."
"Hm?"
"Can I suck your dick?"
"Huh?" Jungkook, ever the man he is, put the iPad away for the first time since he's been here. Confused, but still, you could not have mistaken the look of pure interest in his face the moment you asked him that.
"I want to suck your dick, if you let me." You say, clearing yourself up. You are putting on a brave face, but internally, you are screaming.
So what if this thing between you has been happening for like… ten months now, almost a year? Jungkook was usually the one to always initiate sex and blowjobs were almost a rare occurrence in your sex life because you told him it hurt your knees but the real reason was because you didn't think you were very good at it. Jungkook never asks for it either, and sometimes you feel bad for only reciprocating handjobs during oral sex quickies but! He never says anything about it so maybe that was fine? Anyway, it's not like this is gonna be your first time sucking him. It's just the first time you initiated with your own words.
"Oh, you're serious?" Jungkook scoots over to his side and lays sideways to prop himself up. "Really?" He has an excited smile on, and you know that because of the way his eyes crinkle.
"Don't make me repeat it." You say pointedly, pushing him a little bit. Jungkook doesn't even budge at the slight attack, only holds your hands in his.
"No, I just… I thought you said no fooling around tonight." He says.
You shrug. "Yeah, well."
You don't expect him to tug you closer to him using his hold on you, and you were thankful you managed to suppress a loud squeal when he laid on his back and caught your whole body on top of his.
"I guess you can't resist my charm, after all." Jungkook says, grabbing a handful of your ass.
"Jungkook, please, you're scaring my lady boner off." You roll your eyes as you adjust yourself on top of him to get more comfortable.
"Take care of my gentleman boner then, baby." He counters and just because of that you avoid the kiss he was about to give you.
"Don't ever say gentleman boner ever again." You pinch his nipple and he let out a laugh at your petty retort. You knew he was sensitive there. But even then, you were starting to feel the growing need concealed under his sweats, and you were set on giving him the blowjob of his life tonight for some reason.
"I have a suggestion to make," Jungkook says suddenly, stopping you from crawling down to his body. You arch your brow at him, he continues, "I don't think we've ever tried sixty-nine, yet, haven't we? Because I also really want to eat you out right now."
"Oh, well, yeah…" you nod. You find yourself heating up at the way he casually tells you the last part.
"So…?"
You haven't really tried that either, and not just with him, but also with your other sex partners that only really summed up to less than four people, and that's including Jungkook. Anyway, the sixty-nine position sounded interesting.
"Okay, sure." You shrug.
"Fuck, you're the best."
This time, you give in to the kiss he gives you and pretty much after that it turns into a heavy make-out session with Jungkook fondling your boobs underneath your overused highschool PE shirt while you ground down against his erection that only kept growing harder as seconds passed.
You are panting when you break away, a string of saliva in between your lips, breathing for some air. Jungkook kisses his way down your neck, suckling on your skin and soothing it with his tongue.
"Take your shirt off," you say, already impatiently tugging at the hem of his clothing.
Without a word, Jungkook frees himself from the fabric. "You too, and your panties. Please."
You chuckle at the "please" but nonetheless straddle him to take your shirt off. Jungkook looks up at you with hooded eyes, massaging the bare skin of your waist as you wriggle your hair out of the neckline. He grips your waist as you lift your bum off his stomach, pulling your panties and shorts down in one go one leg to another.
"Shit," Jungkook hissed at the sight of your glistening pussy that has gotten wet overtime, hands roaming all over your body like he doesn't really know where to touch. Always fascinated and in awe with what you show him, always so eager, so touchy. And you always love his undivided attention. Makes you feel like a princess for some reason. Doesn't help that he calls you that sometimes, too.
"Oh, fuuck," he groaned when you sat on his stomach. You couldn't help but let out a quiet moan, too, feeling his hot skin and your cold pussy touching together. "Angel, fuck, come here, let me kiss you."
You lean down to kiss him and he quickly reciprocates, his tongue entering your parted mouth, swirling and licking inside, taking your breath away. You could feel yourself smearing your wet mess on his abs but you couldn't really care less, not when Jungkook looked like he couldn't, too, squeezing every inch of you he could get his hands on. And they were everywhere, alright. Your breasts, your waist, hips, ass, his thumb on the inside of your thighs, all the while kissing you like he was hungry for it.
Jungkook jostles you a little when he lifts himself up a little to slide down the grey sweatpants you have a love and hate relationship with, his dick shooting up his abdomen and touching your ass as a result.
He stops kissing you.
"Alright, one more minute of you grinding against me will make me nut. Sit on my face now, baby."
Blood shoots up your cheeks, making you feel hot. A little funny, given what you are doing right now. But he can't just be so casual about it! He was asking you to sit on his face like he was telling you the grass is green. Regardless, you kiss him one last time.
"Don't suffocate." You warned him, already reversing your position as easily as you can so that your back is facing him.
You hear Jungkook chuckling from behind. "Please, I'll die happily suffocating in this pussy."
"Please don't talk about dying." You deflect, already feeling so shy about the whole thing. Indeed it was your first time to try this position, and you quite didn't know how to act. You wonder if he's done this already in the past, but found yourself irritated at the thought of him doing this with anybody else. You'd have to assess what that feeling of irritation means later.
"Hmm," Jungkook hums, grabbing the globes of your ass and fondling them before you could even properly place your knees on both sides of his head. With his hold on the flesh, he pulls you closer to him until you feel his breath on your core. "Ah, shit, will never get tired of this pussy, baby. Fuck, you're so wet."
You try to focus your attention on his hard dick against his stomach, veiny and rigid, red at the tip and shining with pre-cum. Wrapping your fingers around the base, you lean down a little more so that you can begin teasing him.
But Jungkook beats you down to it as he licks a long stripe across your pussy. It has you keening and stumbling a little over, feeling so good at the contact of his tongue against your sex. You hear him hiss before he says, "Come on, pretty, sit on my face, don't hover."
You hesitate before giving in, and Jungkook is quick to continue the ministrations of his tongue on your pussy. The position was so new to you but you couldn't help but think it was so good, feeling him this way, albeit still a little conscious about cutting off his air supply. But as Jungkook starts licking and sucking, you remember his cock in your hand and it prompts you to stroke him up and down; slow, because your mind is cloudy from the way you could hear the slick of your pussy from Jungkook's licking.
Leaning down, you kiss the head of his cock, licking his pre-cum off the top. There was Jungkook's groan again, and you thought that was a good sign, then continued to suck his tip a little just to see it getting even redder.
Jungkook suddenly gets more aggressive in the ministrations of his tongue, from his slow yet precise strokes, he starts increasing speed, fingers getting tighter on your asscheeks, the tip of his tongue prodding at your entrance giving you a taste of being full.
It prompted you to whimper, Jungkook only humming, seemingly pleased with himself. Letting out a shaky breath, you resume stroking his cock, twisting your fingers around the base. Soon, you lean even closer so that you can wrap your lips around the head.
Jungkook's groan was a pure sinful sound of pleasure as you did so. Nevermind that he was having his own feast on your pussy, you were determined to make him cum. And to do that was to suck on the tip gently at first, swirling your tongue on the cum that's building up on it. You joined the motion of it with your hand stroking the shaft up and down, cheeks hollowed and sucking the air in your mouth to create a suction that has Jungkook slightly jolting in his position.
"Oh, fuck yeah, baby, that's it, you're so good at this… shit," He says behind you, moving his mouth off your pussy and replacing it with two fingers. Jungkook slides them in easily, the squelching sound so apparent it cannot be mistaken for anything else if there was anybody but you two in the room. "You like this, baby? Hm? You're taking my fingers and my cock so well."
You moaned around his cock, heat starting to spread all over your body as Jungkook began to join his digits with his own mouth, devouring your pussy like he always does when he goes down. You start losing your rhythm on his cock, choking on it a third time now as you haven't really managed to fit it all in your mouth. You've always tried to, but he's always been a little too big for you. If it was a skill issue, you didn't care, Jungkook enjoys it just as much as you do.
When Jungkook rubs your clit, that's when you start shaking on your knees, threatening to crumble down.
As if he knew what was coming, Jungkook suddenly says, "Don't come yet, baby, not now." and you swear you would have actually cried.
What you didn't expect is Jungkook suddenly sitting up, his hands gripping your hips so that you don't jostle on top of him. You let go of his dick as he slides you off his body, and you let him manhandle you into sitting on his cock that slides in too easily like your pussy was fine silk. You now sit on top of him in what seems to be like a reverse cowgirl position, except that you aren't the one in control of your own movements.
"Oh, K-kook – Jungkook!" you yelped as he bounced you on his rigid dick, your body melting against his.
"Shh, take my cock, angel. You can do that for me, right? You're so pretty right now, I wish you could see yourself." Jungkook whispers against your hair, and you pathetically nod, craning your neck up at him to seek for his mouth. He smiles at you, the gentle nature of it so contrasting to the way he was controlling your hips, bouncing you in and out of his cock. "My pretty little angel."
He kisses you passionately, and as seconds passed his hands began to travel upwards to cup your breast, fondling it in his hand and pinching your nipple. You also started to initiate your pwn movements, meeting Jungkook's thrusts from below you, all the whole moaning in his mouth at the pleasure of his cock touching every crevice of your pussy.
The feeling of this never gets old even if you've done it exclusively and quite constantly with each other for the past ten months. Sex with Jungkook is always just so intense it always keeps you on your toes.
"K-kook, I'm cumming," you gasped in his mouth, feeling that build up in your belly
"Hm," Jungkook leaves your boob in favor of your pussy. Kissing you one last time on the mouth, he leans against your shoulder to watch as he spreads your nether lips. You look down to his hand there, fingers spreading the lips apart witnessing your own hole getting split open by his engorged cock. The sight was so lewd and obscene you couldn't help your moan. Then, Jungkook begins rubbing your clit again, fast and with a purpose, this time to make you finish. And he finally gives you the green light to do so. "You can cum now, baby."
And as if prompted by his simple words, you came, feeling a gush of wetness coming out of your pussy. You watch the way Jungkook kept his fingers in there, massaging your hole and kissing your neck.
"Jungkook…" you bury your face into the crook of his neck as you come down from your high, pussy throbbing and spasming from the intense feeling of cumming. He did edge you from when he ate you out.
"Good girl."
And again, Jungkook changes your position. From sitting up, you are now laid against the bed again, with him switching your positions so now he's the one hovering and you underneath him. He grabs your hips up and enters your pussy once again, sliding his cock in and out to chase his own orgasm. Your moans only encourage him to go faster, his grunts filling the room.
"Oh, that's it, Kook, you come for me too." You say, reaching for his stomach with one hand and fondling your own boob with other for his own consumption. Jungkook always liked seeing you play with them.
"Yeah, you're so sexy like that," he says, even picking up his speed higher.
Soon, he was cumming with a pained groan, and you didn't expect to cum a second time the same time he did.
Another gush of slickness slides down your pussy while Jungkook pulled out completely. But he was putting it in again a second later, rubbing his dick against your core. You sigh, partly at the sensitivity but also how pleasurable it all still felt even though you've come twice now in the span of almost what? – thirty minutes? Maybe an hour?
"Pretty fucking pussy you've got here, baby," Jungkook says before pushing his cum back into you, making you cry out. "Never gonna get enough of this. Of you."
You whimpered, clinging to his forearms as he continued his actions.
"Cum for me one more time?" He asks, staring deeply into your eyes.
And you couldn't possibly do that. Coming twice was not at all what you envisioned your night to be, thrice was a heart attack. But at the same time, you couldn't really resist his pleading eyes and his deep voice and his still hard cock pushing his creampie deeper into you.
So you nod your head, and Jungkook leans down to swipe the strand of hairs that sprouted all over your face overtime, wet on the hairline from your sweat, just before he slides his cock all the way in again, repeating that in and out routine, the slamming and the bottoming out, the quickening oh his pace and your toes curling once again that impeded your orgasm for the third time that night.
When you finished, exhausted and spent the fuck out, Jungkook laid on your boobs and kissed all over, playing with one of your nipples in his other hand. You were flat on the bed, dead weight, looking up at the ceiling and closing your eyes to cool yourself from what had just happened.
"Okay, that's enough, Kook, we gotta clean up." You say, massaging the soft curls on the top of his head.
He only let out a non-committal hum.
"Jungkook."
"Yes, baby?"
"Enough sex. I'm fried." You say, pulling his hair slightly to make him look up at you. But that was a bad decision of course 'cause he only seemed to enjoy the teasing.
"Just saying hello to these amazing boobs of yours." You rolled your eyes at his retort, nonetheless accepting it.
"Thanks, I guess."
Eventually, Jungkook stopped being clingy and finally found the will to fetch a wet rag from the bathroom. He cleaned you up and and you didn't bother dressing up except the panties you asked him to get for you. Soon after that, you cuddle together in bed.
"Hey," Jungkook suddenly whispers behind you, fingers massaging your hip, mouth press to your head. You hum. "I think we should do that more."
You try to look over your shoulder. "What? The sex?" you say, chuckling.
Jungkook pinches your hip. "Yeah, I told you we should have sex everyday. But that's not the point, I meant the sixty-nine."
"Well, first of all, having sex everyday is physically not possible," you roll your eyes though he couldn't see. "Second, I enjoyed that position, too. A little bit distracting, but definitely really enjoyable."
Jungkook agrees. "I think you just gave me the best blowjob of my life, if you wanna know."
"Really?" you confirmed, smiling up at him.
"Almost nutted when you sucked my head."
You chuckle, slapping his chest and roll your eyes again for how many times now?
"No but seriously…" Jungkook suddenly turns, indeed, serious. But he's still smiling, though, just a little less playful with his tone. "What was with you tonight? Did you finish that essay?"
Oh god, your essay. Right.
You feel your cheeks heat up a little remembering how you were basically thirsting over him him a while ago. And for no reason too.
Despite cringing internally, you shrug. "No, not really, but submission's two days from now and I just wanted to kiss you, I guess."
That made Jungkook's smile even bigger. He doesn't say anything more but only scoots even closer to your neck, kissing your hair.
"Hm, I always wanna kiss you too, and I do. But I love it when you ask for it."
You think you'll start doing it more, too.
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all rights reserved © AWRKIVE , 2023
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The first time I read Dungeon Meshi I was like “I love all these characters but Mithrun is hands down my favorite, it’s been a long time since I went this feral for a fictional character.” And like. That’s still true. I still absolutely adore Mithrun and he’s extremely important to me and his character arc is so beautiful and also I want to kiss him. BUT.
I’m not gonna lie, the way that like 85% of western fans either ignore Toshiro or straight up dislike him is turning me into a Shuro stan from the sheer injustice of it all.
He should get more love. He’s wonderful. It’s a little tricky to get a read on him initially but once you learn more about him he’s such an interesting character with so much going on under the surface. He seems like the stereotypical Stoic Eastern Warrior type, but it’s only because he’s using that stoicism to hide his shyness and uncertainty and fear of doing or saying the wrong thing. (And honestly, if you really thought Ryoko Kui of all people would write such a flat stereotype of a character you haven’t been paying attention). By the end of the series it’s shown that despite his issues Toshiro is a good and kind person beneath the impassive noble facade he’s been taught to put up his whole life.
And! He’s such a perfect character foil for Laios! Because they both struggle socially (personally I think Toshiro is also autistic, like Laios, but I’ll probably make a separate post abt that bc this one is already getting long), but in ways that contrast each other. This brings them into conflict when at their core they both crave the same thing: a deep connection with their peers that they’ve struggled to find their entire lives. They’re two sides of the same coin, at opposite ends of the spectrum of outward responses to a very similar internal experience. It’s really well done, as is, like, every character/relationship in DM.
Anyway if no one else is gonna ride or die for Nakamoto Toshiro then I will, god damn. I have to do everything myself around here.
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ghost-proofbaby · 9 months
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twenty four hours (modern!eddie munson x fem!reader)
→ tropes: enemies to lovers, forced proximity, slow burn
→ warnings: strong language, smut (oral, f receiving), overload of cheesiness, upside down does not exist, minors dni
→ wc: 11.8k+
→ a/n: this might be the cheesiest, fluffiest thing i've ever written, and i can't even be bothered to care. it might be unrealistic. it might be too much. i do not care. this has been a long time coming and i think we all deserve all the cheese after this story.
i don't even know what to say besides thank you. thank you to everyone who followed along from the beginning, to those of you joined the journey along the way, to those of you who are reading as we finish it up. thank you for all the support and love you guys have shown this fic. i will always, always, appreciate it more than i know how to say. i love these idiots, and i love you all.
if you would like to see this story continued through small blurbs, my ask box is officially open to requests from this universe. i will also probably be posting some "beyond the hours" content over the next few weeks.
thank you. i love you.
without further ado...
masterlist.
spotify playlist.
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EPILOGUE: A BET
TWO MONTHS LATER
“Why are there so many fuckin’ options?” 
Eddie stares at the line up of smartphones before him, all different models and different physical sizes, different colors and different memory amounts. 
“There’s not that many,” you murmur, wrapping your arms around him from behind as you rest your chin on his shoulder. It’s a bit of a stretch, making you lean up onto your tippy toes, “Besides, isn’t having options a good thing?” 
He scoffs as he brings a hand up subconsciously to where your arms overlap on his torso, grip gentle as he runs a thumb over your skin and gives a squeeze, “Sure, options are great. But there’s at least twenty different iPhones on display here, sweetheart.” 
The last few months had been interesting, to say the least. A new and exciting journey initially, but also a fairly stressful ordeal given all the hoops you two had been jumping through. You’re both busy people, having to suddenly figure out how to carve out a specific space for each other amongst bustling lives. It wasn’t the same as making time for friends or a weekly night out; it was figuring out times for dates, times for lazy afternoons, times for just you and just Eddie.
And, occasionally, time to take Eddie shopping for a new phone. Finally.
“Well, better pick one fast,” your fingers dig into his side playful, and he blows out an annoyed breath as he side-eyes you. You only retaliate in a fast peck to his cheek before whispering in his ear, “We’re gonna be late if you keep taking all day.” 
It was Argyle’s birthday party tonight. His actual birthday wasn’t for another week, but he’d be venturing back home to California for that. And so the group elected to throw him a preemptive party at one of the group’s favorite bars. 
Which — fine. Awesome. You were excited, you really were: you loved Argyle, you loved your friends, you even found yourself warming back up to parties.
But your friends didn’t know. 
Two whole months, and neither you nor Eddie had told a single soul of what had become between you two. Not even Steve. Not even Nancy. 
At first the excuse was to give this time to grow, to find your footing before you brought your lovable yet rambunctious group of friends into the equation. But then you two had found your footing, and you’d worried what they would say. Eddie had nearly made himself sick with anxiety over Nancy finding out he’d kept this relationship from her. They’d support you two — that wasn’t a worry. They’d proven that since the first time the entire group had hung out after the bet.
“So,” Robin started, narrowing her eyes at you and Eddie sitting on opposite ends of her and Steve’s couch. Neither of you had said a word to each other yet (Plenty had already been said that morning as you’d snuck him out of your dorm), “You two really aren’t together?” 
“Why is everyone so adamant that the bet has to end with us getting together?” you jeered.
Eddie didn’t help the cause when he was quick to take your side, “Exactly! The bet’s over. We lasted twenty four hours. We’re friends now — isn’t that what you guys wanted?” 
“I actually wanted to help you dudes plan a winter wedding,” Argyle chimed from the kitchen where he was retrieving a coke, “So I’m gonna side with Birdie on this one.” 
“Of course you are,” you muttered beneath your breath. 
Everything in you ached to be sitting next to Eddie rather than so far. You ached for his arm around you, his lips pressed to your temple. Just to share body heat, even — innocent thighs brushing with layers of denim between would have been enough.  
“It’ll happen eventually,” Nancy mused from her seat on the kitchen counter, Jonathan beside her and matching her confident energy with a sly grin, “Just give them time.” 
What they hadn’t realized is that it already did happen. The moment Eddie showed up to your dorm and the two of you said to Hell with space, it was inevitable. 
Now, it was just the challenge of letting your friends in on the secret.
“What about the red one?” Eddie asks you as you finally unravel from him.
“Of course you’re choosing the red one.” 
“What’s that supposed to mean?” he scowls, no malice behind it as you step up to occupy the space next to him, brushing shoulders for only a moment before his hand is grabbing yours, intertwining fingers like second nature. 
You recall that moment on his balcony, where he had once been so nervous and hesitant to hold your hand. 
“Nothing,” you shake your head, smiling to yourself as you look at the specific model he was talking about, “You’re just getting a little bit predictable, Munson.” 
He opens his mouth to argue, to nip back at what you always offer him, when one of the salesmen approach you two.
“Hi folks! Can I help you with anything today?”
Eddie squeezes your hand, no doubt in an effort to withhold his laughter at the man’s overly chirpy tone. You squeeze back, if for nothing more than to let him know you felt him.
Despite Eddie’s previous claim to a decision, he still chooses to entertain the man. Asking questions about different models, inquiring for recommendations as if they’d change his mind. They go back and forth, both polite enough, but the conversation easily bores you. In five seconds flat, your mind has officially wandered off.
You two hadn’t really discussed the specific details of the night to come. Whether you’d ride with Eddie there, how you’d navigate Eddie’s natural born clinginess once he got a few drinks in him, if tonight might be the night to finally tell your friends. 
The last one felt a bit obvious. It was Argyle’s night — you didn’t want to snatch the attention from him for even a second. 
But there were layers to your anxiety. Because it was more than just how to navigate how you two would display yourselves to your friends on nights out. 
It had been two months, and you still hadn’t said those three little words back to Eddie.
He didn’t pressure you. He never once brought it back up, never once pressured you. But just because he wasn’t constantly reminding you vocally that he loved you didn’t mean you didn’t feel it. You’d felt it, impossible to miss, when all those lazy morning fantasies became reality. You felt it during movie marathons and you felt it every time he’d worship your body. It was there — in the late nights, in the early mornings, in the dull afternoons. A wild thing unleashed in your gardens, all those vines you’d worked so hard to see flourish threatened to be torn up by impatient claws at the feeling growing rapidly in your chest every time you looked at him.
And slowly, surely, you knew that there was only so much longer that like could suffice in describing your feelings for Eddie. 
You were falling, whether he was aware or not. You just needed to figure out the right moment for those three little words to unstick, to go from hot honey on your tongue to easy breaths between you two. He’s given you time, he’d filled the months you’d awarded him with making up for every previously bitter exchange, and yet you still couldn’t give him this. And you’re starting to believe maybe that’s why you couldn’t imagine telling your friends yet. 
You sort of hated yourself for it.
You’re pulled back to reality once the salesman departs, no doubt into the back to grab Eddie’s choice of phone. You don’t even have to ask; you know he got the red one.
“Hey,” Eddie fully turns to you, bringing your knuckles to his lips in chaste kisses. Your stomach still kicks with flutters, your heart still warms at the gesture. Eddie’s affection has yet to lose novelty, “Where’d you go?”
“What do you mean?” you twist your face, “I was here the entire tim-“
“Not where’d you physically go,” he clarifies, letting your conjoined hands drop back to the sliver of space between your bodies, “Mentally. Where’d your mind just go?”
 You hadn’t thought he’d notice your drifting.
“Nowhere,” you shrug off.
“Nowhere? So you’re really just that interested in the newest iPhone model?” 
He pointedly looks up at the widescreen display you don’t doubt you’d been blankly staring at the entirety of his conversation with the man who had yet to return.
“Oh, absolutely. You know me so well.” 
All bark, no bite. These days, all the previous venom that had infected exchanges with Eddie prior to the bet had finally been sucked clean from the wound, long gone to make room for all the genuine affection to seep into its place. You still argued — or perhaps bantered was a better word for it — but you didn’t fight. You both still grated on one another’s nerves and managed to slither beneath the other’s skin, but not in an unwelcome way. 
It was a nice change.
It made you hate yourself even more for not saying those three little words. 
Eddie seemingly reads your mind, “Are you nervous for tonight?”
“I-“ you consider lying to him and saying it hadn’t even crossed your mind, but the look he gives you warns against it, “We just haven’t… discussed it.” 
“What’s there to discuss?” 
You hold up your interlocked hands for emphasis, raising your eyebrows at Eddie.
His mouth falls open softly, eyes widening, “Oh. Are you- Are you wanting to tell them tonight?” 
No, your gut screams, absolutely not tonight.
“Is Argyle’s birthday party really the best time to explode their minds?” 
You try to keep your tone teasing as you sense Eddie’s own nerves creeping up. Sometimes it was fun, standing in a room with everyone and pretending to be more akin to strangers than lovers. But sometimes, it was just plain painful. Sometimes, the entire group would be laughing at something, and you craved nothing more than to be pressed into Eddie’s side and feel the vibrations of his shared joy rather than just having to listen to it from across the room. 
It’s not that you wanted to tell your friends and cause a scene — you just didn’t want to have to hide anymore. And maybe you wouldn’t have to, if you’d just tell him how you felt.
“Probably not,” Eddie murmurs, “I mean, it’s his night. We can always tell them the next time we all get together.”
The issue is that’s what the two of you always say. You always brush it off for the next time. 
You can only sigh in defeat as you see the salesman finally bounding back out from the back room, a small box holding Eddie’s purchase in his grip, “Yeah. Next time.” 
You can’t even be mad at next time. It’s the same thing you tell yourself every time you felt those words on the tip of your tongue, so close yet so far from revealing the most terrifying truth you’d discovered yet to Eddie.
You let go of his hand long enough for him to check out, hardly overhearing when he questions how they can transfer all the data from his current flip phone. When he seems particularly worried about pictures transferring, you don’t think anything of it.
STEVE-O: do i need to pick you up tonight? 
You don’t see the text. You’re a bit busy with something when it comes through.
Something is currently still between your legs, curls threaded between your fingers as your back arches off his mattress and his name starts to come out as a desperate whimper rather than a chant. 
STEVE-O: ???
The initial buzz of your phone on his nightstand doesn’t phase either of you. Eddie’s tongue still works you eagerly, circling your clit as you tug particularly harshly at his roots. Each flick sends white hot pleasure through your bones, nearly making you see stars.
“Fuck,” you gasp out when he brings his fingers into the mix. You can feel his smile against you as he curls his fingers inside of you, mimicking a come hither motion and relishing in your little pants as your thighs tighten around his shoulders, “Oh, fuck. Right there, Eddie. I- Eddie.” 
The way you’re moaning his name only encourages him as he slips in a second finger, stretching you further. You feel cool metal bumping your entrance, sending shocks up your spine as his lips suction against you and he sucks hard.
He hadn’t even taken the time to remove his rings when the two of you had gotten home. He had been too eager, dragging you to his bedroom with his lips attached to your neck from the moment he’d shut the front door behind the two of you until he’d thrown you down on his bed.
“That’s right, baby,” his voice vibrates against your clit, “Say my name. Tell everyone who’s making you feel this goo-“
STEVE-O: helllooooo????
“Okay, who the fuck keeps texting you?” Eddie finally pulls back when he realizes you’re slipping out of that bubble he’d created, your head having turned towards the nightstand in curiosity, “Let me guess, it’s your other boyfriend?” 
Your head is still spinning and your chest continues to heave from that lingering pleasure he’d been offering so generously to you. He sounds annoyed, but you can guarantee you’re even more irked. 
“I don’t have another boyfriend,” you blandly reply, not taking his bait.
It only makes him wrap his hands around your thighs on his shoulder, giving a playful squeeze as you reach out for your phone. 
“You sure?” 
You squint at the notifications, but don’t properly read them, only rolling your eyes at both the fact that Steve’s the one interrupting this precious moment and at Eddie’s valiant teasing.
You slam the phone back down, eyes trailing down to his, “I am, but I can certainly find another boyfriend if you don’t get your mouth back on me in the next three seconds-“ 
He doesn’t need a second warning. In an instant, the warmth of his tongue is back on you, lapping at all the spots he’s come to memorize as of recently. That pleasure comes back into reach, edging your vision with feathery black as your eyes flutter shut and the coil in your stomach tightens.
You throw your head back into one of his pillows, one that has started to smell like your shampoo now rather than his, and let a drawn out whine escape your lips.
“You were saying?” he teases, grinning wickedly. He takes that brief moment to come up for air, turning and sinking his teeth into the soft flesh of your thigh beside his cheek. Not hard enough to draw blood, and probably not hard enough to leave indents. But it is enough to have you preening once more as your heels dig into his bare back and you try to lift your hips, desperate for his mouth again.
He was edging you. Without even meaning to, he was repeatedly bringing you to the edge only to leave you teetering. 
With your focus back on him, you can admire how pretty he looks. Mouth slick with you, pupils blown out, hair an absolute mess. You like him best this way, you think, when he looks so absolutely devoted to you. When he’s looking at you with a hunger you almost can’t place. It makes you want to scream from the rooftops about how you’ve fallen for him. How you feel so much more than like for your boy. 
STEVE-O: seriously. if you don’t respond, you can just walk. you have five minutes.
At the buzz of the phone, your hands leave Eddie’s hair to form fists, pounding them into the mattress at your side in a brief tantrum. He ceases all actions, pulling his lips away from you again, and it only makes you pout more. 
“Baby,” he coos, fingers trailing up the sides of your thighs before he reaches out to hold your fists down, “Maybe you should answer him. Tell him to fuck off-“
Eddie’s interrupted as your phone fully bursts to life with your ringtone.
You were going to kill Steve Harrington. 
“On second thought, let me answer it,” Eddie groans as you reach out and grab it once more, “Give the fucker a piece of my mind.”
“Shut up,” you hiss as you realize it’s Robin calling. You turn the screen so he can see, and his eyebrows lift in surprise.
He makes no move to remove himself from between your legs, though. He stays face to face with your aching core.
“Hello?” you snap after swiping to answer.
“Finally! My God, Steve’s been texting you-“
“I didn’t see the texts.”
“Do you need a ride?”
“Nope.” 
You’ve never been so short with your friends. 
But that pleasure is slipping from you, the flames of your impending orgasm dying down to nothing more than embers. It’s enough to piss anyone off. 
“Are you sure?” Robin asks, sounding genuinely concerned, “It’s kind of a far walk-“
“I’m running late,” you sigh, realizing that you were going to have to come up with a lie to get off the hook. Another thing you hated about the hiding — it led to your friendships being littered with dishonesty. Always a new excuse as to why you weren’t available, always feigning reasons as to why you didn’t reply to texts as timely as you used to. “With getting ready. I could- I don’t know, do you think Eddie might pick me up? Isn’t my dorm along the way to the bar from his place?” 
At the mention of his name, he perks up. His cheek settles against the exact spot he had bit just moments before, nearly nuzzling into you as your free hand comes down to gently push back his bangs. On instinct, you find yourself soothingly pressing your fingertips in slow circles against his scalp. You’re nearly melting beneath his soft gaze, those big and wide eyes locked on you with bated breath.
“You want Eddie to pick you up?” you suddenly hear Steve exclaim in the background.
Your face scrunches up, a wrinkle forming across the bridge of your nose and between your brows. It’s so damn cute to Eddie that he can’t help but press a quick kiss to the skin he continues to lay into, beginning to smile as your absent-minded head massage continues. 
So much more than like.
“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t know I was on speaker.” 
“Why do you want Munson to pick you up?” Steve ignores your sarcasm, voice sounding closer to the phone now, “He drives a motorcycle, you know. That’s dangerous.” 
Eddie must be able to catch some of Steve’s shrill exclamation, his eyebrows raising ever so slightly. You feel his curious hum against your skin and you don’t hesitate putting your own pesky friends on speaker. 
“Motorcycles are not that dangerous,” you retort, and it makes Eddie have to hide a slight scoff into your thigh in an effort to stay silent. It was ironic that they cared about how safe it would be for you to ride with Eddie on his bike now, after that allegedly dangerous vehicle had been your main source of transportation for nearly two months now, “He has a helmet, right?” 
“Isn’t your dorm the opposite direction of the bar from his place?” Robin questions, “I mean, I’m all for you asking lover boy if he’ll give you a ride but-”
Steve interrupts her flatly, “It’s making him go out of his way. Besides, he might have already left for the bar by now.” 
You don’t know what to silently laugh at first. The assumption they were making that couldn’t be further from the truth, or Robin’s new nickname for Eddie. 
Lover boy is fitting for him in this current position. He’s still latching onto your leg, cuddling you in every way he could from where he laid, staring at you and hanging onto your every last word. The poster boy for pathetically in love, he gives your leg another kiss, starting a fiery trail with his lips until he reaches your knee. It pangs in your chest, wondering if he can see your feelings also painted so obviously across your face. 
“Steve,” you murmur, breath catching in your throat as Eddie’s lips linger in the ditch of your knee. It takes a second to remember you’re on the phone, “No offense, but Eddie hasn’t been on time to a single get together the entire time I’ve known him.” 
Eddie reacts in real time to your insult, forcing an over-exaggerated offended look before he bites you again. This time, his teeth do leave an imprint from his nip, and it makes you slap a hand over your mouth to avoid yelping. 
Don’t bite me, you mouth at him. 
Don’t be mean, he answers right back, silent as ever. 
“Technically we’re all already late,” Steve points out. It makes you sit up quickly, startling Eddie in the process. You squint at the clock across the room and- fuck. Steve was right, “Nancy just texted me that she and Jon are there, Argyle’s on his way. She said she tried texting Eddie but didn’t get any response,” there’s a long pause as you motion wildly for Eddie to get up with you, the boy watching as you fling yourself off his mattress and carry the phone with you to his dresser, “Have… you heard from him recently?” 
“Why are you saying it like that?” you jab, throwing open one of the drawers Eddie had cleared out for you to keep some clothes here in his apartment. At this point, a good chunk of the tuition you paid was going to waste considering the fact you rarely spent the night at your dorm. You were already half moved into Eddie’s space. 
You try not to think too hard about it, because just last week, you’d had a panic attack at the revelation. 
You were afraid of smothering him, even if he was the one always insisting you could leave more of your things here. He was always the one conning you into spending another night, promising soft murmurs of giving you a ride to class the next morning if you did. You rarely ever had much of the choice in the matter; once he’d wrap his arms around your waist, curl his body flush against yours, it was always game over.
Practically living together, and you still hadn’t said those words back to him. 
“I’m not saying it like anything!” Steve defends himself, “I’m just asking an innocent question!” Eddie’s snort this time is audible, and you freeze as Steve clearly mistakes it for your laughter, “Shut up. It’s a reasonable question. You guys are friends now, remember?” 
Friends. Of course, because all your friends jumped at the chance to bury their mouths against your cunt and make you cum repeatedly until you had tears streaming down your cheeks. Because you let all your friends sleep in the same bed as you, and wake you up by burying deep within you as they bite your shoulder with a moan. You and Eddie were friends. 
“Trust me,” you glance over your shoulder in your haste, looking at Eddie as he stretches out on his side and props himself up on his elbow, “I remember.” 
He gives you a knowing smile, squinting his eyes at you in entertainment. 
“Babe, it really would just be easier for you to ride with us,” Robin’s voice sounds again as you tug a shirt out of the drawer, something casual and comfortable that you could style for the night, “Unless you’re just hellbent on having alone time with Eddie for some reason-”
“I’m not hellbent on being alone with him, Robs.” 
Another lie. I definitely am. But not in the context you think. 
“You just sound like you are.”
“Well, I’m not,” you yank a pair of black jeans free from the drawer and slam it shut, standing and turning to Eddie. 
He hardly has time to react before you’re tossing your phone down on the mattress in front of him, the small device bouncing and hitting his chest. He winces and throws himself back dramatically, letting out a small oof that you pray neither Robin or Steve pick up on. 
As you dress, throwing on the random t-shirt and shimmying on your jeans, Robins laughs, “Denial isn’t a good look on you.” 
Eddie watches you, never moving to get ready himself. All he does is stare as you button up the pants. 
When you give him an expectant look, he merely mouths, bra? 
You shake your head. You don’t know where Eddie had flung your undergarment, and you’re not in the mood to frantically search for it. You’ve gone without a bra before – you can survive one night out without one. 
Eddie’s entire face and chest immediately flushes pink. Cute.  
“Now you guys are just being assholes,” you scowl despite the fact that only Eddie can see it, waving your hands to motion for him to get up and also get dressed, “I’m texting Eddie. If he has already left, I’ll just walk. Fuck you guys.” 
“Tell lover boy I said hi,” Robin teases. 
“Even if he’s already parked at the fucking bar at this point, we both know he’d jump right back on his bike and come pick you up,” Steve’s voice grumbles over the line. 
It almost makes you smile.  “Someone sounds jealous.” 
“Not jealous, just annoyed,” Steve corrects as Eddie finally stands from the bed, “When are you two going to get your shit together?”
“What do you mean?” you play dumb.
You’ve had this conversation with your friends multiple times. They were truly going to have your head once they realized what you’d been keeping from them for months now. 
“Don’t you have a 4.0 GPA?” Robin inserts herself back into the conversation, “You can’t possibly be this stupid.” 
Eddie pauses in his fumbling with pulling his jeans from the pile he’d left his clothes in at the end of the beg, face scrunching in silent laughter. You almost walk over and smack his bare back angled towards you. 
“First of all, no. I don’t have a 4.0 GPA. Thanks for the reminder,” you grab your phone back off of the bed and decide to leave Eddie behind in the room, heading into the bathroom to finish getting ready. You hate to admit it, but if you have to keep watching him giggle so cutely to himself, you’ll also probably break. And you aren’t in the mood for any further interrogation from Robin and Steve, “Second of all, I’m hanging up now. I’m going to call Eddie. At least he won’t be such a dick to me.” 
“Oh, you must see the irony there-” 
You cut Steve off, “Bye! See you in… like, ten minutes.” 
Once you’ve hung up, you put your phone down on the bathroom counter and look up into the mirror. Your hair is a mess, wild and tangled from all the writhing you had been doing before being so rudely interrupted. You give it your best effort, trying to tame it a little bit to look more presentable, but it’s a lost cause at this point. Fuck it. 
Eddie appears in the doorway behind you, fully dressed and his hair pulled back into a bun, leaning into the door frame with his arms crossed and an impish grin on display, “Oh, you’re going to call me now, sweetheart?” 
You glare at him in a jocosely manner through the reflection, “Don’t look so proud of yourself.” 
He pushes off the frame and comes up behind you, still locking his eyes only through the reflection as he leans his chin over your shoulder, “And what if I don’t want to give you a ride? You have been awfully mean – insulting my punctuality, throwing your phone at me, teasing me by going without a bra. The list goes on and on.” 
Something deep within you stirs, those embers that still ache to burst into a forest fire. You hate that you could easily spend the entire night here with him, letting him take you every which way between his sheets. And even without sinful actions involved, you would be plenty content with just his presence tonight. As a matter of fact, you might be more content with that outcome rather than heading out to see your friends.
Sorry Argyle, you think guiltily. 
“I’m teasing you?” you question just as his hands land on your hips, moving so that he was pressed firmly against the curve of your ass. Making sure you could feel how hard he was against the seam of his jeans’ zipper, “You didn’t even make me cum.” 
“Seems like we’ll both be spending the night frustrated, then,” he smiles, almost gleefully, almost devilishly, “Besides, that was technically Harrington’s fault, not mine. We both know I usually have no problems making you cum on my tongue – without interruptions, of course.”
He rolls his hips ever so slightly into you, and your mouth falls open, eyes going glossy as you continue to stare him down through the mirror.  The stirring in your abdomen is persistent now as your heart hammers against your ribs, mind melting and completely forgetting the obligation at hand. 
And Eddie knows this. He’s well aware of the effect he’s having on you, and it’s deliberate. 
Suddenly, his body completely pulls away from yours, “I’ll meet you downstairs. Don’t want to keep them waiting any longer, do we, sweetheart?” 
Damn him. Damn him, and damn his dimples, and damn how good his legs look in those jeans as he’s walking away from me right now.
You linger in the apartment, alone, for a few extra minutes to compose yourself. Trying to quelch the heat between your hips that had slowly spread across your entire body, threatening to consume you. You even go as far as to splash cool water across your cheeks, giving yourself a few smacks for good measure as you try to prepare yourself to go into public and put on the usual act. And beneath it all, you also hush the animal in your chest, the one that claws at you to tell him. The one that wails everytime you simply tell him you like him, the one that roars when you let another moment slip you by. It has to quiet, just as your flames need to settle, all for the sake of the act.
You deserve a goddamn Oscar at this point. 
After deciding that touching up your makeup would take up far too many precious seconds, you’re darting out of Eddie’s apartment, locking up behind yourself before you head down to where he’s waiting. He’s already straddling his parked bike, the engine roaring to life like the animal inside you as you exit the main doors of the building and his hands extend his only helmet. You don’t fight him on who’s going to wear it – that’s a battle, you’ve learned, you will always lose. 
We really need to just buy a second helmet. 
The thought makes you smile as you hold the clunky thing. Buying a second helmet. Something Eddie had never done before, because he had never had a regular passenger before. He had never had someone glued to his side as you had become, not even Nancy. It sounds terribly domestic; perusing aisles with him, debating which helmet fits your style best. He’d probably make a joke about your head being big. He’d probably tease you for looking at the ridiculously expensive ones and tell you to opt for a cheaper one. You’d probably end up with a pricier one in the cart regardless, and Eddie would probably refuse to let you pay for it. 
Domesticity. The image of it doesn’t ache like it had that night all those months ago. This isn’t something you yearn for hopelessly, smoke and mirrors that dissipate when you dare to reach out for it. It’s something finally in your grasp. Something tangible and something bound to happen, all you’d have to do is say the word and Eddie would comply eagerly. 
Anything to keep my girl safe, as he would tell you any time you pointed out how dangerous it was for him to go without a helmet. He’d gotten creative in saying his own version of those three little words. 
“M’lady,” he hums, nodding for you to put the helmet on before sweeping a hand over the empty space in the seat behind him, “Your chariot awaits.” 
You don’t have a snarky quip to throw back at him, only grinning at the ground as you flip the helmet around a few times to prepare to put it on. All those embers aren’t just desire for him – there’s a warmth there that always exists. A candle on the windowsill of the home you had finally found. 
You raise the clunky thing and tilt your head when Eddie suddenly says, “Oh, and babe?” 
Immediately, you lower it, eyes wide in curiosity, “What?” 
“That’s my shirt.” 
“What?” 
He motions to the t-shirt tucked carefully into your jeans, “That fine shirt you are currently wearing is mine.” 
You look down, and he’s right. It’s too late to go back inside to change, and you know he’s aware of this when you catch his amused smirk. He probably noticed the moment you had put it on, and had deliberately waited until it was too late for you to do anything about it to inform you. 
Bastard. 
“I-” you pinch the fabric between your fingers, looking between it and Eddie wildly for a second before your shoulders slumped in defeat, “It’s fine. I doubt they’ll even notice.” 
You were wrong. They do notice. 
Everyone is already waiting inside for the two of you, nestled around a table in the bar in a similar arrangement to the very first night you’d been introduced to the group. There’s only two empty seats left conveniently, right next to each other. You don’t miss that mischievous look of success on Robin’s face as she looks overly proud of herself.
They’d set it up so we’d sit next to each other. 
You’re grateful for your friends’ antics until you go to take the empty seat next to Steve.
“Is that Eddie’s shirt?” 
Robin is leaning around Steve eagerly as she says it, ridiculing the shirt intensely. 
“What?” you laugh nervously, looking down and tugging at the fabric. 
Lie. Make up a lie. Make it good. 
“That is Eddie’s shirt,” Nancy looks surprised across the table, looking up at the two of you questioningly. 
“What?” you repeat yourself. Eddie has already taken his seat, and is avoiding the stares of everyone, “No, it’s not.” 
“He has one just like it,” Jonathan adds fuel to the fire, “He literally wore it - what? Two days ago?” 
In a pathetic attempt of an excuse, you plop down in your seat and force an offended look, “People can own the same shirt. He’s not the gatekeeper of-” you look down, and nearly erupt in embarrassment when you see what the shirt is. “Deftones.” 
Ah, fuck. 
It’s not just the embarrassment of being on the verge of getting caught in your lie – it’s the memories that flood back. You, on Eddie’s lap. Your mouth and his becoming one. Steve calling, and you sucking so innocently on Eddie’s neck. 
Fuck. 
You really wish Steve and Robin hadn’t interrupted earlier. 
“It’s not like I got it at a show,” Eddie shrugs, and you wonder for a moment if he’s lying, “They’ve gotten more popular lately. I’ve seen their shit in Target.” 
“Exactly!” you exclaim a little too loudly, a little too quick to defend yourself, “Exactly. I just thought it looked cool at Target. Besides, tonight is about Argyle.”
You smile at the birthday boy, and he returns the joy as he waves a little at you. The reminder is all it takes for everyone’s attention to return to the focus of the night – everyone’s attention but Nancy’s. 
You can feel her eyes on you as conversation sparks up and debates of ordering shots begin. Everyone is busy asking Argyle what his plans for next weekend are – which are mostly composed of normal family gatherings, probably a homemade cake, etc. – but Nancy is watching you and Eddie like a hawk. In the peripheral of your eye, you watch the way she leans back so casually into Jonathan's around her shoulder, looking like she knows. You’re probably just being paranoid. You’re definitely just being paranoid. 
You try to ignore it, and instead let yourself just enjoy the moment. All your friends gathered, a group in which you finally feel like you belong to, jokes being made and laughter being exchanged that has you feeling a bit giddy. It’s nice. Even between the smoke of the room and the flickering lights overhead, murmuring chatter of nearby patrons mingling right in with your group’s noise, it’s homely. The smell of drunken cigars and fruity cocktails should be overwhelming, but you just let it wrap you up instead. 
And when you turn your head, inhaling deeply the smell of cinnamon and musk rather than all those other foreign anomalies, you find Eddie already looking at you. Soft eyes, bitten grin, a few loose curls framing his cheeks as his bangs curl up into his forehead. Even in the shoddy lighting, he takes your breath away. 
He’s looking at you. Just like that first night. Dozens of other people in this room at this moment, and he only has eyes for one – he only has eyes for you.
“So!” Argyle announces, “I think, my dudes, instead of doing what Birdie had so… excitedly suggested,” and oh, he was being generous and calling Robin suggesting he took twenty three shots for his twenty third birthday just her being excited rather than foolish, “We should just take the twenty three shots and split them up amongst the group.” 
Steve and Jonathan immediately groan, protesting how they’re driving, and Eddie only shakes his head with a chuckle. So far, he’d only ordered and been nursing on a plain coke, no whiskey. 
Somehow, sitting beside him with the group is worse than keeping distance. 
When he’d taken off his jacket, you’d silently begged for him to rest an arm across the back of your chair just as Jonathan was doing to Nancy. And he had, almost too naturally before he’d caught himself. It would have been easier to play off cooly, probably would have gone unnoticed, but your boy had practically jumped out of his bones as he’d flinched and tucked his arm back into himself suddenly. He’d even bumped his elbow against his own seat in his haste.
And Nancy had noticed. 
“That’s only three shots per person!” Argyle defends, “Four for me, since you know – birthday boy.” 
While Eddie may be avoiding alcohol tonight, you aren’t. Not unusual, but it had been odd when Eddie had told the waitress your order of an amaretto sour rather than you telling her yourself. 
Another strike. Another thing Nancy had noticed with her watchful eye.
“I’m down,” you shrug, “Hell, I’ll even take an extra shot if those two dumbasses won’t.” 
“Is that a good idea?” 
You wish Eddie had been drinking to excuse his idiocracy. Because all it takes is him saying that, not with malice but with concern, and the look on Nancy’s face told you she was officially catching on.
He hadn’t said it with the concern of a friend prepared to warn against drinking yourself sick. He’d said it with the concern of someone who would be taking care of you by the end of the night, of someone who would be dealing with the aftermath of that many shots. 
You two were bombing this whole secrecy, to put it lightly. 
You try to save the moment but laughing it off, turning to him slightly and teasing, “What, are you my keeper now?” 
Despite your best efforts, the statement doesn’t come across as friendly banter. It’s not quite fighting either. It’s a dare, you dangling something in Eddie’s face that no one else at this table quite sees. A stupid, idiotic continuation of your flirtatious game of cat and mouse from earlier in the apartment, when he’d deliberately gotten you hot and bothered. When he’d deliberately let you leave in his shirt. His palm is warm when he shifts ever so slightly, placing it on your thigh beneath the table. Out of sight from everyone else. Fueling and fanning all your growing flames. 
You two were toeing a very dangerous line tonight. 
His eyes darken a bit, and you pray no one else notices in the dim bar lighting, “I don’t know, am I?” 
Everyone is distracted enough with your idea. Steve and Jonathan were agreeing, saying they could take one shot and then others in the group could shoulder the extras. Robin was quick to also say she’ll take an extra one. But Nancy is silent, watching your quiet exchange with Eddie. 
“I don’t think you are, Munson.”
Except he is. Without a single doubt in your bones, you know that he is. 
Your playful smile betrays you. It tugs up the corners of your mouth and it’s clear to any outsider this wasn’t a brewing argument. The game was obvious if anyone was watching close enough. And Nancy, ever the smart one, was watching close enough. 
She’s playing her cards right, you realize, when she waits until the group has ordered the round of shots to say anything. 
“So, Eddie,” she begins, drawing the entire group’s attention to her best friend, “Do anything fun today?” 
He nearly chokes on his coke subtly. “I- Um-” 
“You just didn’t answer any of my texts today,” she continues on, “Must have been busy, yeah?” 
Eddie retracts his hand from your thigh, far more elusive in this action than he had been about removing his arm from your chair, before he fiddles with his hands in his lap. “Yeah – no, yeah. Sorry about that, Nance.” 
He pulls his phone from his pocket for no apparent reason. The shiny new smartphone, having not even bought a case or screen protector yet. You’d already yelled at him for that, claiming out of everyone, you trust him the least to not break the phone on the first day. He’d only laughed and shut you up with a kiss. 
His new phone is placed face down on the table, cherry red glinting, “I just had to go to the mall and-”
“Is that a new phone?” Argyle interrupts him, catching sight of the movement and the glinting, “Oh, holy shit, my dude! That’s a new phone! That is an iPhone if I’ve ever seen one!” 
Everyone – Robin, Steve, Jonathan – are rapidly leaning to catch sight of it as if they can’t believe it. Eddie continues to shrink at being the center of attention suddenly. 
“It is,” Steve laughs in disbelief, “Never thought I’d see the day, Munson.” 
Robin scrunches her face, “Does this mean we have to add him to the group chat?” 
You let out a giggle at that, lips pressed to try and contain some of that smile breaking through as you look at him and wiggle your brows. He immediately rolls his eyes, but picks up the phone regardless to give everyone a better look. 
“Yes, yes. I’ve finally joined the dark side,” he teases everyone just as the waitress returns with the tray of shots. Jonathan is the only one with enough sense to look away from Eddie’s spectacle, thanking her kindly, “Feast your eyes, my friends, for this is where my five hundred dollars went-” 
“Holy shit.” 
Nancy’s sudden whisper of an exclamation has everyone freezing. Eddie stops spinning and flipping the phone to show it off, staring at her with nothing but concerned, “What? What happen-” 
Nancy shares a look with Robin as they both grin.
Oh no. 
“Eddie,” Nancy says slowly, turning her head back his way slowly. 
“What?” Eddie frowns, eyes flitting back and forth between Nancy and Robin.
Robin is the one to ask the question rather than Nancy, “What exactly is your lockscreen?” 
Eddie goes pale. You’re confused, looking at the phone he’s currently cradling with the screen against his palm. 
Did he even change it? Wouldn’t it just be one of the default ones? 
“Guys,” you decide to come to his rescue, still impossibly confused, “It’s probably just some default screen, don’t tease him.” 
“That was not a default screen,” Nancy laughs out. 
Argyle looks around at everyone. Nancy and Robin, both with mischievous glints in their eyes. Eddie, still ghostly white as if he’s been caught red-handed. Steve and Jonathan, both just shrugging at each other. “Uh…. Why do I feel like I’m missing something here?”
“Show the class your lock screen, Eds.”
“Fuck off, Nancy.” 
“Oh my God,” Robin coos, leaning across Steve and pressing you back gently to catch sight of Eddie, who’s dipping his face down, “He’s blushing!” 
“Guys, leave him alone,” Steve insists, sharing a look with you now. But you have no clue what’s going on.
You have no clue what his lockscreen is. 
“Edward Munson, show us that lockscreen right now, or I’m Venmo-requesting five hundred dollars from you,” Robin continues to threaten. 
You look away from Steve and at Eddie immediately, leaning in closer to his space. He looks at you, clearly focusing on your presence more than everyone else’s, and smiles like a child trying to get out of trouble. 
“Eddie,” you say quietly, almost impossible for your friends to hear, “What the fuck is your lockscreen?” 
He slowly and carefully turns the screen towards you, making sure only your eyes can see it, and- oh.
It’s a low quality photo. Clearly taken on his flip phone. Details just a little fuzzy, and the darkness of the photo wasn’t helping. But you can see it clearly. You can make out exactly what it was that had Nancy and Robin losing their minds. 
It’s a picture of you and Eddie, with your head on Eddie’s chest.
For a moment, everyone else at the table doesn’t exist. You hadn’t been insane that night – he had taken a photo. A snapshot of the moment where everything had changed. The moment in which you had given up the fight and completely succumbed to just how much Eddie meant to you, how badly you pined for him and how deeply you liked him. 
“I was going to make it the one of you at Betty’s,” he whispers, “But, I just- I really liked this photo.” 
He’s still tense, as if he expects you to be upset with him. 
You’re the farthest thing from upset at him. 
“You made me your lockscreen?” you breathe out, a slow-growing smile beginning to stretch your lips. 
You’re not upset at him. As a matter of fact, you’re in love with him. You want to scream it from every rooftop, shout it to every stranger on the street – you are in love with Eddie Munson.
And you have been for a while. You just hadn’t found a way to tell him yet.
“Yeah,” he loosens up a little when he realizes you’re happy, enamored with the fact, “Yeah, of course I did. Who else am I going to make it besides my favorite…. Enemy?” 
He says it loud enough for everyone to hear clearly. All of Nancy’s teasing has come to a halt, Robin has settled back into her chair, and Steve is finally looking too curious for his own good. 
“As birthday boy,” Argyle breaks the moment, shatters away the bubble you and Eddie always seemed to end up in, “I am demanding I get to see this lockscreen.” 
Eddie doesn’t make any move to show the screen to any other person, only watching you for approval. 
Well, so much for next time. 
You give him a little nod. 
Eddie makes a dramatic show of it, sighing heavily before he very slowly turns his lockscreen to face everyone else. But even in his dramatics, you can see that weight lifting off his chest.
This, as a matter of fact, changes everything. 
No more hiding, no more lying. One simple flash of his phone screen, of a photo he had taken on a night that no one has even been gifted the details of yet, and all your friends suddenly know.
The reactions all vary. 
Argyle leans forward and squints before his face breaks out into pure joy for the two of you, “Oh, fuck yes! Best birthday gift ever. Pay up, my dudes!” 
Jonathan leans backward, digging out his wallet as he murmurs, “Son of a bitch.” 
Steve only smiles and shakes his head, also digging for his wallet as he seemingly chastizes himself, “I should have fucking known.” 
“Hold on,” you look between everyone as Jonathan digs out a couple twenties, “Wait, did you guys fucking bet on this?” 
“We did,” Robin answers you, holding up a hand to make Jonathan and Steve pause their retrieval of cash, “What do you take us for? Idiots? Now, gentlemen, before either of you payout, we’ve gotta ask the most important question,” she shoves a palm against Steve’s chest so that he’s out of line of sight, gaze set on you and Eddie, “When did this happen?” 
You don’t have any time to be mad at your friends. Because when Robin asks you this, suddenly you’re back to two months ago. You’re outside your dorm with Eddie, kissing him as if tomorrow would never be promised, and you’re home. 
You pulled back from Eddie finally, both of you gasping for breath as he held you steady. Your exchange from moments before still hung heavy in the air. 
You liked him, you liked him, you liked him. 
And the feeling was mutual. 
You’d already known, but it was nice to hear. It was nice to be reminded that this, what had happened between you two, was so very real. 
“I don’t wanna start over,” the words tumbled from your tongue before you could consider them, upheaving from your chest, desperate for Eddie to heard them, “I- I don’t need to start over. I like our story, okay? You had been right – it wasn’t all bad, and… and I don’t want to start over. I never want you to be a stranger again, and I know that sounds stupid-” 
“It’s not stupid,” he interrupted you, forehead meeting yours, “So very not stupid.” 
“I don’t care if you were a dick,” you continued on, carefully, “I was, too. We were both… shitty. I forgive you. I’ll forgive you a thousand times over, as long as you keep trying to make it up to me.” 
“Make it up to you?” he grinned playfully, “And just how do you suggest I start making it up to you?” 
“Ask me out,” his eyebrows raised in surprise, and you knew you must have looked like a wild idiot to everyone else, but you didn’t care, “To dinner, to a movie, to just hang around your apartment with you for another twenty four hours – I don’t care. Just… Just please, Munson, ask me out.” 
And so he had. A first date, a second date, a third. You two had gone through the entire ordeal of every cliche relationship despite the unconventional beginning. You’d gone to dinner, you’d gone to a movie, and you had done plenty of hanging out around his apartment and more. 
“The night of the bet,” Eddie answers as he finally brings an arm up around your shoulders, just as he had wanted to earlier. 
Immediately, both Robin and Argyle let out their own curses, pulling out their wallets just as Steve and Jonathan had. 
You look between them, all the annoyance you should feel just being run over with adoration for these idiots. Your eyes land on Nancy, and when you realize she’s the only one at the table not coughing up any cash, you ask her, “I’m assuming you guessed correctly?” 
“I did,” she nods, looking proud of herself. 
“How’d you know?” 
Nancy raises a threatening finger, before suddenly pointing it right in Eddie’s direction, “That idiot has always been down bad for you-”
“Okay, okay,” Eddie stops her, “I’ve already told her the nitty gritty details. No need to embarrass me.” 
“No need to embarrass you?” Nancy asks in disbelief, “Good God, just how many times did I have to sit and listen to you pine for her? No, no – I have earned this, Munson.” 
You look at Eddie, a glint in your eye, “You only told me about the first time.”
“I only remembered the first time,” he counters, blushing under yellow and faded lights, “I was usually dru-”
“Don’t lie,” Nancy stops him, “There were plenty of rants where you were dead sober.” 
Everyone only smiles at Eddie, a few teasing comments made his way, but none of them matter as you lean into his side, your shoulder bumping his to the best of your ability with his arm still around you.
“Aw, babe,” you coo, warm all over for the man beside you, “You had a crush on me? That’s cute.” 
His chin lowers, eyes boring into yours with unlimited affection. For a moment, it’s just you and Eddie. The guise of you two having your own bubble of a moment. 
His head tilts further, his ears brushing your ear as he whispers for just you to hear, “So did you, if I’m not mistaken.” 
“Not mistaken,” you whisper back. Money is now being exchanged, tossed across the table with grumbles that hold no heat. 
Yeah, you did have a crush on Eddie. You still do. You don’t think you’ll ever stop having a crush on him, even as he’s surrendered himself as yours. Especially not when his thumb is stroking your shoulder as it is now. 
Just like that very first night. The smoky bar fades to nothingness, your tunnel vision focused on Eddie. You know jokes are being made about the two of you by your friends, but it’s all white noise when he’s looking at you like this. Like you’re everything to him, like he’s just returned home after a long week. 
You’d really like to be his home to return to after every long week, for the rest of your lives, but there’ll be time to ponder on that later. For now, you two have time. 
The voice inside your head suddenly comes to life as it recognizes that this is your moment. You can tell him. Now that you’ve told everyone else, you can tell him those three words. Finally get them off your chest. Make it real. 
“Hey, Munson,” you say, still quiet enough for the words to only reach his ears. He perks up, eager to drink your next words. You have all his attention. You always have all his attention, “I-” and then you choke. He stares curiously for a few seconds, and the words just won’t come out. You want to scream – you wonder if it would work if you screeched the three words at the top of your lungs. Probably not, “I’m just really glad you didn’t really hate me,” a pathetic excuse at a coverup,  “And… I’m really glad they made that first bet.” 
He smiles so softly, it strikes you right in the center of your chest. Right amongst your garden that not only had you tended for him, but that he had also had a hand in watering these last few months. 
You should have told him. You love him, and you should have told him. 
“I’m really glad I didn’t hate you, too,” he remarks, squeezing your shoulder a little tighter, “Actually, I’m glad you don’t hate me. Not anymore, at least.” 
“I never really did.”
“You definitely sort of did. You tried to take me out with a glass, remember?” 
You burst into secluded laughter, hearing your friends beginning to pass around the shots but paying them no mind. 
Eddie can’t help it. He pulls you in close, placing an impulsive kiss to your temple and letting his lips linger there. Just pressed against you, breathing in the scent of you. 
That kiss sends shivers down your spine, warmth through the center of your bones. You love him. 
You love him, you love him, you love him. 
So why can’t you just tell him that?
“Aw!” Robin pulls the two out of your bubble, “Aren’t they just adorable?”
“Yes, yes,” Steve passes two shot glasses down to your end of the table, “Absolutely adorable. It’s nauseating. Also, I’d like to go on record – I totally knew the entire time. I was just giving them the benefit of the doubt.” 
“Playing the Devil’s advocate?” Argyle asks, lining up his multiple shots, “I dig it. Even though you’re totally lying right now.” 
“You’re so lucky it’s your birthday, dude,” Steve rolls his eyes, clearly holding back an insult. 
Eddie’s arm stays heavy on you, a welcome weight as you sit up straighter to take your own several shots. 
These were your friends. Somewhere you belonged, filled with people you loved and a boy you could come home to after all your long weeks. A certain happiness that is rare, and impossible to place, and can nearly bring you to tears overwhelms you as you grab that first shot. 
“Also-” Steve turns to you and Eddie, “I knew that was Munson’s shirt. The day he got it, all he did was brag about what a rare find it was. Fuck off with your Target bullshit.” 
Eddie’s hand leaves your shoulder long enough to reach out and thump Steve, laughter booming and vibrating against you, “Sure you did, Stevie.” 
“Target has some nice things,” Nancy offers with a shrug, now holding her own shot glass. 
The seven of you all hold up the first of what will probably be too many shots tonight, the beginning of a night that will probably be remembered through killer hangovers tomorrow and possibly even captured on camera by the likes of Jonathan, Steve, and Eddie. 
“To Argyle,” you take the lead on the cheers, jittery and anxious as all the love you continue to withhold buzzes in your chest, lifting your small glass in his direction, “The most lovable twenty three year old I know.” 
Everyone moves to drink, but Argyle immediately shakes his head, “Nah, fuck that. It’s not even my birthday yet – I demand a new toast.” 
He lifts his brows, staring you down and silently adding, you know what to do. 
And yeah, you did know what to do. 
“Fine,” you sigh dramatically, leaning further forward, Eddie’s arm following. You relish in the tense silence as everyone waits for what you’re about to say instead. Even Eddie is waiting with bated breath, watching your every move, a contrasting yet easy smile on his face, “To bets.” 
A booming applause from your group. Glasses tapping against the wooden table before shots are downed. Groans of disgust as the tequila hits everyones’ tongues. 
Eddie hardly waits before you’ve both swallowed to remove his arm and grab your face, turning your cheek so that his lips can capture yours. Everyone only cheers louder, Steve letting out an obnoxious whistle as Argyle claps. You’re surely going to get kicked out of the bar at this rate. But you really don’t care as you kiss your boy back. 
Next time. You have to tell him next time. 
The night ends in more of a whisper than a bang, surprisingly. 
Everyone has suddenly become a happy drunk, probably from all the love and good news passed around throughout the night. It’s all warm feelings and warm hugs, tequila on the breath and love on the mind. 
You don’t even get kicked out of the bar. Your waitress only smiles at your rowdy table from time to time, and you figure that all the good vibes must be rubbing off on her. 
Steve is the first to call it quits. Robin has drank enough to give herself the hiccups, and he says that after that, she almost always gets viciously nauseous. He wants to get in the car and home before she gets to the point, for the sake of his car’s interior not getting covered in puke.
It’s a domino effect from there.
Argyle quickly agrees, Jonathan offers a guiding arm to Nancy, and Eddie’s arm only tightens around you. The group closes out the tab, putting off worries of everyone paying Jonathan back until tomorrow. Quick, simple, painless. 
Until you all get outside. And goodbyes are exchanged – that’s not the part that gets to you – with promises of seeing each other throughout the week. Everyone congratulates you and Eddie one more time for good measure, Nancy and Steve looking the most proud of you two as Argyle and Robin giggle like children about it. And it’s fine – you laugh along and it’s all good. You let them get in all their I told you so’s and know it’s all in good fun. 
It’s all fine. Until you two branch off from the group, Eddie’s bike across the lot from everyone else’s cars. 
The moment you two are alone, you can’t tell if it’s the alcohol or if it’s the levity of suddenly having a moment that only belongs to you. Your mind wastes no time of reminding you of your pathetic cop out: I’m just really glad you didn’t really hate me. None of those words even sound akin to the real ones you should have said.
I love you. 
It’s not because your friends have found out. You know it’s not that, because just last week, right after your breakdown about whether you were smothering Eddie by half-living in his apartment, you’d had a breakdown because you realized you wanted to fully live in his apartment. You’d had a breakdown because you hadn’t grown tired of him yet, hadn’t satisfied the need to see his face every morning when you first wake up yet. You hadn’t gotten bored with all his lingering affectionate touches. You hadn’t gotten used to the way he’d kiss you in the middle of sentences. He was still taking your breath away, two months later, and you had a breakdown because you realized it wasn’t novelty or a pathetic crush making you feel this way.
You had a breakdown because you love Eddie. 
You love him, ardently so, and you still can’t find the right moment to say those words to him. He deserves to know – the entire foundation of this relationship was honesty.
It’s all you can think about as his hand finds yours and he’s walking up to his bike, practically dragging you up to his bike as your legs forget how to work amongst nerves. 
“So, I was thinking,” he carries on conversation so casually, “You want to spend the night at my place? I know you said you don’t have any class-“ 
Now. Not later, not next time. Now. 
“Hey, Eddie?” you interrupt him, stopping the two of you a few paces away from his bike. 
His face is impossibly concerned as he looks down at you, clearly reading the worry on your face, “What’s up, babe?” 
Here goes nothing – be brave.
“I-” 
Why is this so hard? 
It shouldn’t be this hard, because loving Eddie is easy. 
It’s easy when he’s looking at you like this, like he always does. It’s easy when he wakes up after you, and he comes into the kitchen to just wrap himself around you as you make him coffee, no matter what time of day it might be. It’s easy when he catches your eye from across the room during outings, sometimes winking once he knows you’ve found his gaze, just to see you laugh. It’s easy when he tries to distract you from homework when you’ve been spending far too many hours hunched over your laptop on his couch, coming and bugging you, laying his head on your lap and insisting his girl needs a break. It’s easy when he kisses you and everything just feels right. 
It’s easy. He loves you – you love him.  It isn’t hard. You’re making this hard, when it never was. 
“I love you,” you admit quietly, voice shaking as the words leave you easily. 
Loving Eddie is easy. 
“I love you,” you say more surely, voice raising in volume as you find the willpower to look into his eyes, “I love you so fucking much, Eddie.” 
Each time you say it, you gain confidence in it. It’s true – you love him. You love him so much, it encompasses every inch of your being. It entirely consumes you. You love him. 
His face falls slowly, mouth agape and eyes boring into yours.
You don’t wait for his response. You already have it – in the way he’s still holding your hand, in the way he holds you at the end of each night, in the way he knows both your orders at bars and coffee shops. In the way he will always put himself between you and the street when walking down the sidewalk, in the way when he roughly stops his bike at stop lights that his hand always flies back to hold onto you. In every soft touch and every expression of devotion he has offered you for not just two months, but for over a year. 
“You love me?” he softly asks, finally beginning to come back to life. 
You nod without hesitation, “I love you, Eddie.” 
Now that you’ve started saying it, you can’t stop it. And each time, it’s still heavy and sweet like honey, even as the confession comes as easy as breathing. It’s pouring from every crevice, filling up the night air around you. 
He takes you off guard with a harsh kiss. His teeth colliding with yours, his breath stealing yours, his entire being molded with yours. 
“Say it again,” he begs in a murmur as he pulls you in even closer, desperate as you break into a smile, “God, please say it again, sweetheart.” 
“I love you,” your cheeks begin to ache, the kiss no longer even to be a considered a kiss as you two are just mindlessly pressing your smiles together, “I love you, I love you, I love you,” with each repeat of the sentiment, Eddie drinks it in, “I’m so fucking in love with you, Eddie Munson. You and your stupid lockscreen and-”
“You do not think my lockscreen is stupid,” he pulls away, raising his eyebrows as his palms squish your cheeks, “I saw the way you looked at me. You were eating that shit up.” 
You bite your lip, trying to pull further away from him, but he won’t let you, “I was not-”
“You were,” he cheekily teases, eyes bright as he looks at you, “You were, and it was the best thing ever. Totally worth stealing Argyle’s spotlight.” 
“We didn’t steal Argyle’s spotlight,” you try to defend yourself. 
“We so did.”
You shake your head to the best of your abilities, face still between his hands, “We… Okay, we sort of did.”
He grins like a young boy, all his youth and all his love on show for you as he leans down, pausing right before pressing another kiss to your lips, “We definitely did. And it’s fair, because they fucking bet on us.” 
“They did,” you agree, not even feeling guilty anymore, too consumed by the love for the man right in front of you, “They tend to do that a lot, don’t they?” 
“They do.” 
He finally surges forward, lips sealing against yours one last time. It’s less messy this time, more meaningful. A bit more patient as he takes the time to fit his lips into yours, just as they should be. 
You have an audience. You’re completely oblivious until you hear the cheering from across the parking lot, snapping apart to both glance at where Argyle and Robin are jumping up and down, screaming their heads off. 
“Hell yeah, my dudes!” Argyle’s voice booms as Robin only produces incoherent coos to echo. 
Nancy, Steve, and Jonathan are all just watching silently, shaking their heads, but you can also see their grins. Almost as radiant as you felt.
Steve finally cups his hands around his mouth, sending his voice to you over Argyle’s continuing whooping, “Get a room!” 
Perfectly in sync, you and Eddie both throw up a hand with your middle fingers raised in their direction, still half tangled in each other. 
Your eyes find Nancy. She’s looking at you two with overwhelming pride, a certain satisfaction that breathes out the relief of finally. This may be a weight off not only your chest but Eddie’s as well, yet you can’t help but imagine just how she feels. How many nights she had stomached Eddie’s rambles about you leading up to this very moment. The pay off must be unimaginable. 
Finally. 
“Congrats on finally getting the girl, Munson!” she calls out, but her eyes are on you, winking. 
You see it now. Why they’re best friends. How all her best parts and Eddie’s best parts overlap and compliment one another perfectly. 
Jonathan is the final one to yell across the parking lot at you two, one arm slung around Nancy as the other moves to unlock his car, even his usually grumpy face showing signs of elation in that timid smile, “Now take your girl, home, dude. Spare the rest of us the gory details.” 
Eddie’s laugh reverberates against you physically from how he holds you, also making its way to burrow deep within your chest where all that liquid bliss belongs, as he throws his entire head back and makes you finally focus on just him again. Home. Not just his apartment, but him. You realize now that it’s simply wherever he goes. Where he leads, you’ll follow. It could be a shitty dorm room with a mattress that leaves your back aching, it could be a comforting apartment that holds you ‘hostage’ for twenty four hours straight – it doesn’t really matter. Wherever he is, home is. He’s your home; you love him, he knows you love him, and he’s your home. 
When his laughter finally fades, and he’s looking at you again, his dimples are prominent as ever through his whisper, “Just in case you’ve forgotten – I’m very much in love with you, too, sweetheart.” 
His lips meet yours for good measure. 
It’s been the longest week of your life, the longest year, but you’re finally home.
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lyneira · 11 months
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random spicy headcanons featuring haganezuka, rengoku, tengen, sanemi, giyuu, and gyomei!
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fem!reader x rengoku, tengen, giyuu, gyomei, sanemi, haganezuka (separate)
cw: penetration, oral, praise kink, breeding kink, body worship, mentions of kama sutra positions
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RENGOKU (continued, check out my first post!)
Fucks fast, and like I said in my initial post about him, he'd enjoy a position where he's firmly grounded in order to fuck you at the speed he desires. Therefore, he'd likely prefer to be standing up as he thrusts into you. Maybe having you on the edge of the bed in mating press as he stands, hovering over you as his cock slams into your core repeatedly. Or he might fuck you up against the wall, holding onto your thighs wrapped around him as you'd cling to him for dear life. Not only does he have incredible speed, but he also has the stamina to match it. Everything that he'd do would be overwhelming.
eager as heck, if you even mention anything relating to having sex or mention even the subtlest innuendo, he'll be stripping off his clothes and will be pouncing on you immediately the moment you two were finally alone. And when he'd pull down his pants, you'd see that his cock would be proudly shot up, hard with precum staining his tip. He'd been holding in his arousal for you this entire time and would be making you responsible for it.
If you asked him to be slow, he would go slow...initially. It's until he's swept up in the ecstasy of your cunt squeezing around him and sucking him in that he'd begin to both quicken his pace and bury himself inside of you even deeper.
The faster he thrusts, the more he would run his mouth and babble on like, "haa, you feel so good! so good..!! I think I'm gonna cum...ah-! Cum with me, y/n..! I wanna feel you release around me...!" and before you can say a word, he'll let his seed spill into your core, letting out a choked moan as he does so. Although he pauses for a second to catch his breath from his high, he wouldn't waste any more time before continuing to thrust into you, ensuring that his wish be granted. And so it would when he he reaches down to rub circles on your clit and hits your sweet spot. With the spasming of your walls, you'd finally let you're own juices envelop him, and he'd smile at the sound of each wet, sloppy smack that occured as he slowly dragged his cock in and out of you. "Ahaha...there we go...that's a good girl"
he'll always be honest with you, even if it might sound a little graphic. He might tell you something like, "be prepared for what's coming later. I'm gonna fuck you 'til the morning comes" and none of it would be an exaggeration. He will be fucking you until the sun rises. He's not one to say things just for show. Anything that he says is a promise to you. So when he also says that he'll make you cum over and over again, you will be coming over and over again. And if he says that you'll be having his babies, you will be carrying his children soon enough.
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UZUI
would totally manhandle you and would do you in the freakiest positions that would test the flexibility of both you and him, as well as strength. With his physique and physical prowess, putting you in any kind of position would be so easy for him. Whether he'd have known the positions in the kama sutra or not, he would've already tried them out with you. 69, Lotus position, Plough position, Hero position, Star position, Frog position- you name it. This man is kinky as he is flashy.
Tengen's a total dom, but I think he'd have times where he'd enjoy laying back and letting you do most of the work. Therefore, unlike Kyojuro, he'd probably enjoy having sex sitting down or laying down. Probably would enjoy you riding him with you straddled on his lap, in a cowgirl or reverse cowgirl position. And he wouldn't mind you sitting down either... particularly on his face. Don't you dare try to hold back by simply hovering your pussy over his lips, he wants you to truly sit and feel all of your weight pressing down on him. That way, he could give your lower lips the deepest kisses, as well as the most passionate french kisses, delving his tongue deeper into you. He'd enjoy watching the exasperated and blissful look on your face as he pleasured you from below, widening his smile into your cunt
He'd punish you if you were ever being naughty or difficult, and would do so by edging you, and then overstimulating you. Again, he'd observe your face, waiting until your brows furrowed and your mouth went agape as he was fucking you into your next high. Yet, before you could ever reach it, he'd quickly pull out, letting your walls clench over nothing. Despite your pouts and glances of frustration at him, he'd do this multiple times until he can no longer resist your adorable expressions. So when he finally lets you orgasm, seeing the blush spread on your cheeks and cloudy look of lust shroud over your half-lidded eyes, he can't help but continue to fuck you. Then those hazy eyes of yours would soon be flooded by tears, overwhelmed by the stimulation he would be giving you.
would probably enjoy fucking you doggy style too though, so that he could slap your ass easily.
I think he wouldn't mind public sex? The thrill of possibly getting caught would entice him. With that risk of getting caught, he'd be teasing bastard for sure, and a cocky one too. He'd be the type to hush you when your moans were growing in volume, "Quiet now, darling... you wouldn't want anyone to hear you now, would you?", all while having the biggest smirk on his face. And the most irritating thing about all of this is that the truth is he would definitely want someone to hear how good he was fucking you, and you know it.
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HAGANEZUKA
Look, I know Haganezuka can have a rough and aggressive streak with his temper, but I think he'd have the capacity to be just as tender.
Okay, this is gonna be a weird analogy but hear me out: If he loves you enough, he'd treat you the same way he'd treat his swords-- with extreme care. So much that I see him being into body worship, trailing kisses up and down your body, and muttering his adoration of you against your skin. He'll be passionate about you and it'll show in the way he holds your body so delicately, afraid of giving you the slightest scratch.
And with that kind of passion for you, it'd feel like heaven to him when he's finally able to thrust it all into you, all of his love and admiration.
On the other hand, I don't think he'd mind it at all if you left scratches and bite marks on him during the act. In fact he'd love it if you did. Just as he receives scars and callouses as a result from smithing the toughest blades, he'd view the marks you'd give him as a testament to how well he was fucking you. He would bean with pride at the sight of it.
This is kinda weird, but I'd see him putting up windchimes in the bedroom as to soothe him and assist him in being more gentle whenever his temper is raging. He knows how big he is and how he could get carried away in the heat of the moment, letting all his frustrations out on you, so he'd try, to the best of his ability, to be more soft. The last thing he'd want is for you to get hurt, after all, and if that means having to set up windchimes around the room, so be it.
also, he'd be the type to growl when he's balls-deep inside of you and you're squeezing around him so tightly. I just know it.
The persistence and determination of this man would be off the charts. He's not stopping until he's fucked you right; that means he isn't stopping unless your body was trembling and spasming underneath him, overwhelmed by the intense pleasure he was giving you. Feeling the way your thighs would shake at the sides of his head and feeling the way you would jerk your hips into his mouth as he ate you out, would please him so much.
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SANEMI
My initial thought for Sanemi would be that he's a mean dom, but I honestly feel like he could be a soft/service dom too. This man is just a big tsundere
I think he'd totally start off sex like, "Ha! You're such a dirty whore. If you want my cock so much, then beg for it" but as he's fucking you, he'd whisper, under gritted teeth, nearly reaching his climax, "I love you so fucking much...cum with me, yeah? come on, I've got you"
Like, he puts up a rough and intimidating front, but would totally melt in your arms if you gave yourself to him and took care of him.
cradle his head as he sucks on your tiddies, he'd be drunk on your milk and would smother his face in between them. He also wants to take care of you, so he'd probably finger you as he sucked upon your breasts, giving you stimulation in both erogenous areas. And when you release, he'll pull them out to lick off your nectar stained on his thick fingers, and would give you a kiss, allowing you to get a taste of yourself
Most of all, Sanemi always wants to protect you. He'd probably cling to your waist tightly as he fucked you. While his embrace might give you a sense of security, it would also do the same for him. You were here in his arms, safe and sound, where nothing could ever harm you; that all what matters to him
Call out his name in bed, it would delight him tremendously. Hearing you scream for him would not only swell his pride, but more importantly, it would make him feel needed. So when you call out his name, of course, he'll be there for you, and would tend to your needs.
Screaming his name as he further buried himself inside you, he'd lowly groan into your ear, "I'm here, pretty girl...and I'm gonna make you cum all over me. I know you'll love that"
I'll probably write mean dom Sanemi in another post, stay tuned LOL
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GYOMEI
he will be the most gentle with you. He's so afraid of hurting you, but still wants to pleasure you.
Your pleasure is his pleasure, so when he hears your sweet sighs and moans, it would all shoot straight down to his cock
Therefore, in that case, he'd likely have you take the reins more often when it comes to sex. He'd enjoy you riding him, hitching his breath when you first gently insert the tip into your cunt, getting used to his girth, before letting yourself sink down on him to take a little bit more of his length, which was already stretching you out like crazy. He'll let you take your time putting it inside, and when your walls have adjusted and his length is able to slide in and out with ease, he'll begin thrusting up into you himself. As you begin to tire out and he's reaching his own high, he'll instinctively take hold of your hips and bounce you on his cock with his own strength. So even if your legs give out and you go limp, he'll still be fucking you.
Your jaw will most definitely hurt after sucking him off, because everything about him is HUGE
He'd be perceptive in bed, listening closely to your breathing, your heartbeat, to your moans and cries, taking note of which motions bring you pain or pleasure, and he'll make love to you accordingly. Despite observing all of these things, he'd still make sure to verbally ask you if you were okay.
Even though he aims to be gentle, he isn't opposed to bringing you to your limits during sex. He wouldn't want neither of you to miss out on the euphoria that the act of making love has to offer due to fear. He wants to make love to you wholeheartedly. Thus, he'll often grasp your hand firmly to reassure you when he was splitting you open and after you both reach your highs, he'll softly caress your cheek and press a deep kiss to your temple, telling you how good you've done
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GIYUU
not very vocal, the most he'll do is grunt or groan.
Rather, he communicates a lot more through his eyes (if you've watched the demon slayer ova, you'll know what I'm talking about). He believes that "the eyes are the windows into a person's heart", so he would always seek your gaze as he makes love to you, wanting to know how you're feeling, how much you're enjoying it, and in his gaze, you'd find such admiration looking back at you. His eyes would always be seeking your permission before proceeding
hence, he'd prefer positions in which he can face you (so missionary, cowgirl, mating press, all that jazz)
he'd fall for you all over again if you would tell him what you love about him or praised him in general during sex because he cares about what you think of him. Heck, if you just said that he feel so good, then that's enough to make him bust a nut lol
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a/n: I honestly did giyuu a little dirty by not giving him as many hcs, I'll probably continue his in another post lol
© 2023 lyneira. PLEASE DO NOT COPY, PLAGIARIZE, OR REPOST MY WRITING ONTO OTHER PLATFORMS
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