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nereidprinc3ss · 1 month

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make me late

in which spencer finds a few minutes to spare with fem!reader in the morning

18+ (smut) warnings/tags: softdom!spence, sub reader, fingering (here we go again), 'slutty' is used to describe an action but not by spencer, spencer slaps r's ass one (1) time, (hot), mild overstimulation a/n: apparently need to post at least one fingering fic per week or i'll fucking die. very short and sweet but as always let me know if you like it, i have a crush on all of you!

You’re used to Spencer’s alarm going off early in the morning—typically you tune it out or sleep right through it. Today, however, it rouses you more than usual. You roll over, blinking your eyes open.

“Sorry,” Spencer mutters, finally turning it off and leaning over to kiss your head. “Go back to sleep, angel.”

You wrap your arms around his torso, pulling him down again when he tries to get out of bed.

“Don’t go,” you beg into his shirt, slinging a leg over him. His hand slips under your (also his) shirt, rubbing the bare skin of your back.

“I have to. You know that.”

“I just want you to stay for a little bit,” you insist.

“No you don’t,” he drawls, voice still gravelly with sleep, “You want to make me late.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you say innocently, burying your face further into his shirt as if you could extinguish the heat in your cheeks.

His hand drops from your back to reach under your thigh, pushing your underwear to the side. You gasp when his fingers make contact with your soaked core, involuntarily pressing your hips closer.

“You’re a terrible liar.”

“Stop it! That’s not fair!” You squeal, attempting to wriggle away once you regain your senses. But the bastard wraps his arm around your waist like a vice, forcing you to stay in place as he sinks a finger into you with no preamble. Instead of satisfying him with a vocal response, you keep your face hidden in the crook of his shoulder and remain obstinately silent. When he begins to slowly pump his finger, you’re forced to bite the fabric of his shirt to shut yourself up.

“If you’re not enjoying yourself, I’ll stop,” he says plainly, but obviously he knows that’s the last thing you want. His ring finger joins the other and your mouth falls open, a tiny, choked breath against his skin. “Do you want me to stop?”

Don’t give in, you say to yourself. Wait. What are you not giving in to? Fuck, that feels good. You hum quietly—an excellent display of self-control considering the noises you’re actively holding back.

“Are we already getting whiny?”

“‘m not whining,” you bite.

“You’re always whining.” There’s nothing to do but prove him right when he begins massaging that spot inside you with a practiced stroke of his fingers—the one that makes you arch your back further and spread your legs a little wider—makes you oh-so compliant and all together, a bit slutty. But Spencer has told you that by definition, you’re not a slut if it’s just him who you lose all self-respect around. “My pretty girl feels so good, huh?”

You agree with a mindless mumble, forgetting that you were ever going to try and fight the pleasure.

“It feels so good.”

“I can tell, baby. Listen to the mess you're making.”

Soft, wet sounds emanate from where you’re probably dripping around his fingers. A moan is muffled by his shoulder as your own fingers twist in the fabric of his shirt and sink into the flesh of his waist—though you doubt he minds.

“Please don’t stop, please please please—" It’s quiet, almost demure as you plead.

“You’re so sweet when you get like this,” Spencer coos. “I wish you were always so well-behaved.”

No, he doesn’t. Both of you know he loves fucking the attitude out of you, and at times, back into you. But you’re not in any place to correct him right now, as his fingers slip in and out of you so quickly, exactly where you want to be touched.

“Oh, right—right there, that’s—oh, god,” you squeak.

Your face is still nuzzled in his shirt, your voice is still so delicate and weak with sleep, rising in pitch with your pleasure until it breaks.

“Right here? This is where you need it?”

“Yes,” you practically cry, “I’m gonna come, Spence—” your hips rock back and forth to meet each stroke of his fingers inside you, vision going white with with pleasure.

“Yeah? My pretty girl is gonna come all over my fingers?”

“Mhm!” You speed up the motion of your hips. He chuckles, which might offend you if you were in your right mind, but it’s early, and you’re tired, and your soul is trying to untether itself from your body.

“Let me feel it, baby. I wanna feel you coming, can you do that for me?”

A breathy keen rushes from your throat as your orgasm begins to suck you out to sea like a riptide, flooding your lungs and blood and everything with so much easy pleasure you’re barely awake and you don’t care one bit.

“Uh-huh, good girl,” Spencer murmurs, not letting up with his fingers as you fall through your orgasm. Another choked moan takes you by surprise when his free hand falls with a heavy clap to your ass, before rubbing the stinging flesh. “Let go a little bit longer, baby, I’m right here.”

You’re barely breathing, still seeing stars as he continues to fuck you leisurely with his fingers, more out of pure affection than anything else. Eventually he slips them out, teasing gently over your clit as your stomach tenses. But you let him keep going. You’ll do anything to keep him in bed for a few minutes longer. To that end, you gather enough breath to speak.

“Can you please fuck me?”

He hums pityingly, moving his hand from between your legs to lovingly soothe the tender skin he’d slapped just a moment ago.

“You know I can’t, baby. I shouldn’t have even done this. I really have to get a move on.”

“But you did do this,” you say, eager to point out the fallacies in his argument, “which means you could also have sex with me and we could be really fast and you could just take less time getting ready for work.”

Your chin is now resting on his shoulder as you look up at him with wide, imploring eyes, and he leans down to kiss your nose.

“The answer is going to stay no, sweet thing. I don’t care how much you beg.”

He’s already gently sliding you off of him and getting out of bed as you pout. A few moments pass, and you can’t think of a good retort as he moves about the room, gathering a towel for his shower and digging through the dresser.

“You’re mean.”

“Aw, poor baby. You only got to come once. Nobody has ever had a harder life than you.” Spencer dodges the pillow you throw and laughs, coming back to lean over the bed as you glower at him. “I’m sorry I woke you up. If you can’t fall back asleep in the time it takes me to shower, I’ll make you fancy coffee.”

“Fine.”

“And I’ll be extra nice to you when I get home.” He kisses your head and then your lips, and then disappears into the bathroom.

In a completely predictable turn of events, you’re dead to the world by the time he gets out of the shower. He makes you the fancy coffee anyway, leaving it in a thermos on your nightstand.

He’s late to work. He can't pretend to be sorry.

#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds smut #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds

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kinopio-writes · 2 months

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Hi! Would you be willing to write something for Adam with a sensitive reader?

Everyone knows that he is loud-mouthed jerk, even reader, and she loves him regardless, but one day he crosses the line and says something particularly mean that makes her cry. Like REAL mean. To the point that he pauses because he did not think before speaking (or, well, less than usual lol)

I'm happy with whatever format you feel like using! Thank you!

A/N: I will be more than delighted to write that for you. But would you excuse me for a moment? AHHHHHHDISJDIOEOFJSKXJND—I’m sorry; I love this idea so much. Reading ‘Adam with a sensitive reader’ got me hooked instantly. But I’ll go over that in the headcanons, along with the general stuff. And I’ll add a oneshot at the end that plays the exact scenario of Adam taking it too far.

Holy sh!t. I made it so that the reader being sensitive is their greatest but also weakest point and it turned out pretty angsty. Has a bit of hurt/comfort, though. Did I go overboard? Maybe. That’s why it took so long. Sorry, anon.

Words: 2,328 (edited the end a bit because it didn’t sit right with me)

Warnings: Sex is mentioned (only a bit, surprisingly), Angst, Adam being Adam

———

Adam w/ a Sensitive!Reader

• ha, this man is also sensitive himself

• well, sensitive about himself

• he feels his own emotions strongly, so he’s not the caring, easily able to pick up on other’s feelings and empathize type of sensitive

• you, on the other hand, are on the opposite end of the spectrum compared to Adam

• so you experience other people’s emotions just as strongly as yours

• you easily know what makes someone tick

• you’re selfless

• you’re able to admit your mistakes and apologize

• you’re respectful and actively listen to people when they talk about themselves

• you don’t push people down to make yourself seem better

• you try to make everyone feel good and comfortable

• you’re everything he isn’t

• because you fit in Heaven perfectly

• you deserve to be there

• and Adam knows that he doesn’t belong (subconsciously at least)

• you’re able to draw people in just for being yourself

• and he’s envious of it

• so he demeans you and is snarky about everything you do, and every time people give you praise or affection, he tries to divert the attention to himself or just stares at you with utter hatred from afar

• although all of that is just when he hasn’t even had a conversation with you

• after a while of being around you, he’ll cling to you because you give him the reassurance and validation he oh-so craves (he acts as if he didn’t hate you before. What do you mean? You two were always buddy-buddy!)

• you acknowledge all of the things he puts his worth to

• heck, you hang out with him—you sometimes even initiate it—willingly, and you’re genuinely interested in everything he has to say

• but he‘ll only hang out with you where no one recognizes you (so you don’t get all the attention)

• terrible transition here, but he notices that you mimic people’s expressions often

• he definitely makes fun of you for it

• and also mocks you

• up until he realizes that you do the same thing to him, too

• which is fine and all, if only you didn’t do that when he’s upset

• well, you mimic him when he’s joyous as well, but he (already subconsciously) expects you to. I mean, why wouldn’t you? He’s fucking hilarious!

• so you copying his negative emotions just stands out more

• and he…doesn’t like it

• that’s only really what he doesn’t like about you

• and the fact that you hog all the attention

• and the fact that people see you as perfect…

• buuut what happens when he gets to see a new side of you that isn’t exactly upholding that image?

———

Your phone lit up from your bedside table, brightening your otherwise dark room along with the soft glow of your halo. You only moved your eyes to the light, not wanting your tears to spill and dampen your pillows.

You had an inkling as to who was texting you this late—if the fact that your phone lighting up several times in the span of 5 minutes had anything to say.

When the texts stopped pouring in after a few seconds, you heavily sighed, wings ruffling. You resisted the urge to rub your face as you went to grab your phone.

HEY (2:34) HEY (2:34) HEY (2:34) ARE YOU UP? (2:35) I’M BORED (2:35) GET YOUR ASS OVER HERE (2:36) IF YOU’RE UP (2:37) ARE YOU? (2:38) DID I TELL YOU THAT BITCH WITH THE HUGE TITS GOT FIRED TODAY? (2:39)

Figured. Of course, it was Adam. He was the only person you knew who’d be awake at this ungodly hour. And the only person you knew who’d disturb your peace if it meant curing anything that ailed him. Which was now about boredom, it seemed.

You read a few of his texts displayed on your lock screen before tapping one of the notifications and opening the app, scanning the rest of the unread messages.

Adam was going on about ‘that bitch with the huge tits’—her name was Tiffany, you were sure—and how she was rumored to have slept with an archangel to assume higher authority. He also went on to complain about how he didn’t have the chance to bed her anymore since she was basically deemed an outcast and that he couldn’t be seen with someone like her.

You frowned, not believing any of it, but you didn’t have time to think about it enough when he began typing again.

SO YOU’RE AWAKE (2:43)

You barely finished reading the new message when another one popped up.

DON’T IGNORE ME BITCH (2:43)

You frowned deeper, quick to type out a reply.

i’m not (2:43) i was just reading your texts (2:43) don’t worry (2:43) i’ll be there soon (2:44)

When he stopped typing, you placed your phone back on the nightstand, sitting up on your bed as you carefully wiped away your teary eyes. You hugged yourself for a moment, wings functioning as a cocoon while a hand tugged on your hair.

Today had been draining—both mentally and emotionally. Just like the day before, and the day before that. But you didn’t want to think about it, lest you start to cry some more and smear your face with tears this time. What mattered was that everyone was back on their feet again.

Since you didn’t bother changing into your sleepwear when you got home, you only checked your face in the mirror to see if your eyes were puffy or not. You then took in deep breaths, holding up your drooping wings before putting up a charming smile.

You couldn’t stay in the bathroom for long, quickly leaving to tread the path to Adam’s.

•••

“BOO!” Adam’s masked face suddenly peeked from the corner of his hallway, earning an indescribable scream from you as you jerked back. He burst out laughing, brows creased in confusion but also amusement. He couldn’t even make fun of you for getting scared. “What the—what the fuck was that scream?”

Recovering rather quickly as you blinked, you only smiled at him. You were expecting him to wait for you on his couch as his front door was left unlocked, but you weren’t complaining; his action took away any drowsiness you just had.

When Adam didn’t hear you laugh with him, his laughter subsided as he opened his eyes to look at your face. He raised his brows and placed the back of his hands on his hips. “What’s up with you?”

Shit. There was no way Adam was seeing through you.

“Nothing; I just love hearing you laugh.” You heard a tiny squeak in response. “Anyway, what did you make me come over for? Surely not just to scare me.” You moved past Adam and tightly crossed your arms, entering his spacious living room.

“Pshh, fuck no. You’re so easy to spook. Though that was a first. Didn’t know you could hit high notes, (Name).”

You didn’t know what to say to his…compliment? And sort of insult? Was it really either of them? Should you thank him? But in a sarcastic way? No, you weren’t known for being sarcastic, so he might think you were being genuine and look at you weirdly. And it would also seem highly egotistical.

Not as if Adam had much to say about that…

You tugged at your hair when you caught yourself with those thoughts. Shit, that’s so rude! You can’t think that! You shouldn’t think that!

You settled on an awkward chuckle, making yourself appear smaller as you averted your eyes to his TV space.

It was different, certainly. The modular couch pieces were rearranged into a pit sectional. And it looked as though he had chucked a bunch of pillows and one large blanket as an afterthought. It appeared messy, but at least it looked cozy.

“What’s this?”

“Hm? Oh, well, since you were taking your sweet ass time coming here, I thought to switch things up a bit.” You flinched when his head appeared right on your shoulder. “What’d ya think?”

“It looks super comfy.” Adam wore a goofy grin behind you as you walked closer to the area and noticed that he already prepared snacks on the low table. “Is this a way to say you wanna do a movie marathon?”

“You know it, baby.” He flew past you and landed on the sofa, patting the space beside him with a smile you just couldn’t reject.

•••

Heaven’s natural light beginning to peek through the open windows indicated that it was already dawn. Thank goodness you didn’t have work today.

You two—or rather, Adam—had settled on watching the film series, Die Hard. Every single one. You didn’t mind, but you didn’t understand why Adam invited you over if you two were just going to rewatch the film series for the eighth time.

He had also been pretty immersed in the large screen in front of him, so he hadn’t attempted to converse with you ever since the first movie started. In all honesty, he could have just watched them all by himself.

But you didn’t question it. This time was the same as the last seven, after all. You always concluded that maybe he just wanted someone to watch movies with, no talking necessary. Even if the no-talking part sounded a bit out of character.

Was it though? Because he did that quite often. For instance, he constantly brought you along to whatever mundane errands he had to do during the weekdays and never really talked with you unless he found something cool and pointed it out.

Although, the earlier times you tagged along with him on his errands, he kept yapping his mouth off about the ‘totally awesome’ things he does. He talked about music, his own albums, his band, women, sex, and himself as the first-ever man.

As time went on, however, the talking was replaced with silence. You wondered if he just ran out of things to say or if he found it unnecessary to talk anymore.

You also sometimes wondered what was going through his head when he thought you didn’t see him glancing at you while he was doing something he believed was boring.

The sound of Adam’s stomach rumbling broke you out of your train of thought.

You both looked at each other blankly as if either of you were to blame.

He blinked to break the eye contact between you. “(Name), I’m hungry.”

You snorted, facing ahead. “You ate all of our snacks before the first movie even finished.”

“Don’t blame me.” He hugged the pillow he held tighter. “I’m still fuckin’ hungry, though.”

You hummed as you reached for your pocket. “Do you want me to—oh. I…I forgot my phone.” You frowned. You never forget to bring your belongings.

Adam merely stared at you, unblinking.

You averted your eyes and held your legs tighter. “Uhm, We could get delivery if you want. Can you lend me your phone?”

“Oh, yeah, sure.” He casually tossed you the device before laying on his back and looking up at you. “I’m down for anything.”

His phone hit your knee before you could catch it, silently landing on the cushions. “Are you sure?” You picked it up, opened his unlocked phone, and stared at his basic home screen.

He didn’t really use his phone that often to know that it could be changed. He only really used it to fetch one-night stands or occasional dates, text, play music aloud, look at outdated memes, take random blurry photos, and right now, order delivery.

“Totally.” His crow’s feet displayed on his mask as he puffed out his cheeks.

“Because last time you said that, you didn’t like what I had to pick.”

“That’s because the 5 ʼn 2 is so fucking overrated!” he suddenly started to complain. Your wings ruffled. “Jeez, I swear, every fuckin’ time I take a chick out and ask her what her favorite eatery is, basic bitches always go, ‘Oh, bREaD & fIsH, ceRTAinLy’ or ‘bReAD & FiSh’S a cLAsSIC’” He used his hand as a puppet to imitate their words before waving it. “Like, helloooo? Can’t you see the joint that’s literally on the other side of the street’s a hundred times superior? It’s cheaper, too, unlike Bread & Fish. Overpriced ass. You get me, right—?”

“Then you pick!” Adam jumped at your volume, and your eyes widened upon noticing yourself. You quickly gave back his phone as you turned your face away from him, and he slowly took it with a weird look.

“Shit, chill, (Name). The fuck’s up your ass?” He kept his gaze on you before turning to his phone.

While he was serious about his opinions of your bland tastes, he didn’t think it was that personal. Your preferences were the same as everyone else and that was boring. He was just being honest. And you usually didn’t take the things he said that seriously.

“Adam, I’m sorry,” you spoke up after a moment of silence and ran a hand through your hair. “I didn’t mean to yell at you.”

“ʼs not a problem.” He was still a bit weirded out, but he was willing to shrug it off.

You insisted, however, “I mean it. I’m not mad at you.”

“Okay…?” he muttered when he saw a notification pop up from Lute. Her message consisted of how some of the exterminators got into a quarrel during roll call and the ones involved got injured in the process. She said she was going to discipline them.

Adam did not want to know what she meant by that and was most likely not going to stop by their place today.

“Really. I’m not. Sorry. It’s just that yesterday’s been…”

“Uh-huh…” At this point, Adam was not listening to anything you were saying. But when he still heard the static noise that was your words, he groaned. “Look, sweetie, I really don’t give a fuckin’ shit about your fuckin’ apology, ʼkay? I don’t fuckin’ care. Now what do you want?”

You saw Adam’s confused yet concerned expression after he looked up from his phone and immediately noticed that you were starting to cry. You instantly turned your face away as you carefully wiped your eyes.

“Sorry. Sorry. I’m not crying because of you.” You didn’t know if that was true. You didn’t know if you were crying because of his words or were crying because of everything else.

That was the first time he ever used a sweet petname for you in a long time. He only ever used that to demean or mock other people.

Shit. Stop thinking—you were going to cry more. But even after carefully wiping your eyes away, new tears kept flowing. You couldn’t stop. This was humiliating. You wanted to disappear. You didn’t want anyone to witness you in this state. It was mortifying.

“Shit.” Adam’s voice came out panicky as he held his hands out towards you, but he hesitated. Hesitated in what, he didn’t even know.

He…didn’t think you could cry.

Adam didn’t know what to do; this emotional shit wasn’t his thing. He couldn’t ask you to leave, he knew that much, but he didn’t want to leave himself. This was his place. Why should he leave?

So, he did the only thing he could do in this situation.

You suddenly felt something warm envelop you.

You didn’t look up, but you knew it was Adam. You could feel the texture of his robe on your hands and the side of your face. You could feel his hands on your shoulder blade, but you couldn’t quite feel his arms on you.

You stopped wiping your eyes for a moment.

No one had ever hugged you before when you were sad.

No one had ever let you be sad.

Adam heard you sob.

Fucking great. He made it worse. What the fuck was he supposed to do then?

But when he went to unwrap his arms, he felt yours slip around his midsection, pulling him closer than before as he grunted from your firm hold.

So you wanted to be hugged? Alright. Whatever.

Adam slowly hugged you back after you muttered a ‘sorry’ and loosened your grip.

The next seconds were silent, so when he heard muffled words coming from you, he looked down. You also looked up moments later when he didn’t respond, realizing he must’ve not heard you.

Your gaze softened as you two held eye contact, and with teary eyes, you smiled. “Thank you, Adam.”

Something about his expression changed, but before you could stare any longer, you felt a hand behind your head push you back to his chest as the arm on your back held you tight.

“Yeah, whatever…”

#hazbin hotel x reader #adam x reader #hazbin hotel adam #kinopiowrites

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sunderwight · 4 months

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Bingqiu AU where SY and LBH grow up as childhood friends (idk maybe they're both at QJP but Shen Jiu is less of an asshole, or maybe SY transmigrates into Random Village Bully Child No.3 when Binghe's mom is still alive -- or both) and there's none of the tension of the idea of "one day Luo Binghe is going to rip my limbs off" for Shen Yuan.

So he and LBH can just be bros! Fantastic! Shen Yuan has never had a little brother before but he's had a little sister, he knows how to do this. Just spoil the cute kid rotten!

It's only fair compensation for how many terrible things LBH is gonna have to endure on the road to ruling the world, after all. SY also feels more freedom to change minor aspects of the plot around, too, like maybe he'll stop Liu Qingge from dying, definitely he can help LBH get a better start to his cultivation journey, and maybe the abyss and xin mo thing doesn't really need to happen...?

The list of things SY considers meddling with ends up including wives.

Like really, come on now, Luo Binghe may be a stallion protagonist but there's no need for that many women. Especially when at least half of them are just increasingly cheap copies of the other half, and that's being generous about it. Some of PIDW Binghe's wives were, frankly, horrible people. And if he's being honest about it, it wasn't fair of Binghe himself to take on that many either. Even if anyone would naturally give their left arm to be the protagonist's wife, after a certain point Binghe just can't spend that much time actually with them! And then he can't form the kinds of deep and meaningful bonds which might actually help heal his trauma!

SY's not looking to interfere too much, of course. Ning Yingying is not his favorite wife, but she's fine. She causes trouble but it isn't on purpose, and she's genuinely sweet and willing to befriend Binghe before he's anything special (although even now, it's obvious Binghe is special). Ning Yingying can stay.

And of course, so can Best Wife Liu Mingyan.

But Sha Hualing? Well, she offers some political advantages, and as the demon wives go she's not the worst. She's kind of iconic and was very popular, but Shen Yuan thinks the harem could do without her scheming and malicious attitude towards the other wives. The cost of harmony was too high for the political bonuses offered, especially when Binghe might as well just take her ancestral lands by force and be done with it. He's going to advise against that match.

And the Qin sisters. Sure there's the legendary threesome, but Wanrong's dead weight and it never struck SY quite right how Qin Wanyue pressured Luo Binghe into sex. The threesome wasn't even good anyway.

Better Qin Wanyue than the Little Palace Mistress on that front, though. But aish, that's complicated, the Palace Mistress is even more politically vital to securing HHP than Sha Hualing is for her father's kingdom, and almost as bad for the peace and harmony of the harem. Ultimately SY will leave it up to Binghe, but if Binghe asks, he's going to advise against the Huan Hua wives too.

With thoughts like this in mind, SY starts talking to Binghe about how to establish a household, what to look for in a spouse (or twenty), and other topics of that nature. What sort of household Luo Binghe ought to strive to have, and what sorts of standards he should himself to. Also while of course assuring him that Shen Yuan isn't interested in women. Lest he worry that Shen Yuan might be trying to steal any of the wives from him, at any point. He's not competition!

SY: I am helping to pave the way for Binghe to have better marital relationships! I am the best big brother slash best buddy ever! don't worry, no matter what happens to Binghe, this gege will be your no.1 cheerleader forever!

LBH: is he saying I should get a palace if I want to marry him? well... that sounds reasonable. ok, I will do it! (•̀ ω •́)✧

#svsss #bingqiu #scum villain's self saving system #scum villain

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baptismbaby · 7 months

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♡ HEARTBEAT

toxic! ellie x toxic! reader (modern) warnings: degrading, breathplay, hitting, bruising, strap usage (r!receiving), player!ellie, petnames based on heartbeat by childish gambino wc: 2.9k<3

You and Ellie had the worst breakup in Jackson. You two were dating for years and were constantly arguing, taking breaks and making up again. The cycle frustrated everyone who hung around you two. You would tell your friends you were single “for real this time,” while Ellie kept her distance waiting for you to knock at her door. Usually you would but if you didn’t, Ellie would sneak into your house and you’d walk in your room to find her sitting on your bed. She’d promise she wouldn’t hurt you again, wouldn’t cheat on you again, and you’d fall into her arms with tears and forgive her. Things would be fine for a week until she’d fuck up again.

At some point, you decided you really wanted to move on. You had gone to her place and told her to never talk to you again. She thought you were fibbing and showed up to your house while you were sleeping, waking you up to say sorry. When you threatened to shoot her in the leg if she wouldn’t leave, she stormed out and broke the picture frame you had of the two of you on the ground. You blocked her on everything and avoided the places you knew she’d go.

That was a year ago. Of course, you’d spot her somewhere but you would quickly leave to make sure she didn’t see you. What you didn’t know was that she would. She even made new social media accounts to keep up with what you posted. Four months ago, you got into a relationship with a girl named Eliana. Ellie thought it was hilarious, you dating a girl with a similar name as her. You’d post about how sweet she was and Ellie would get angry. She had half a mind to send Eliana a video of her fucking you from behind and claiming it was recent just so you’d come by, yell at her but hopefully give in to her convincing you to be with her.

Ellie would hook up with a new girl almost every night but hated it. They just weren’t you. At some point, she’d let a girl named Sofie come by whenever she wanted. She looked similar to you so it was easy for Ellie to pretend it was you. Although there were similarities, she didn’t even compare to you. She was awful. She didn’t get as wet as you would, which Ellie missed. She was also extremely vanilla. It didn’t bother Ellie that much but it bored her. She gave Sofie a key to come by whenever she wanted to get fucked but Ellie always had to reach out first. It wasn’t often but enough for Sofie to assume they were dating. Ask Ellie and she would say otherwise.

About two months in your relationship with Eliana, you had sex with her for the first time and was disappointed. She wasn’t good at it. You were trying to be patient with her, telling her how to touch you and how to use a strap but she just wasn’t catching on. She started to get more pissy with you and grew distant. You couldn’t stop thinking about Ellie. You missed her terribly. You’d take the arguments with Ellie over Eliana anyday, at least it would end in hot, angry, makeup sex. You refused to let Eliana touch you. She was getting annoying, always bitching in your ear about shit so miniscule that you couldn’t help but to laugh at her every time she tried to belittle you. You wanted to reach out to Ellie but didn’t know how. You unblocked her on everything instead and hoped you’d receive a text from her.

A month later, you were no longer posting about Eliana and Ellie had taken back the key from Sofie. Ellie noticed your lack of posts. Eliana would post stupid heartbreak poems and dumb shit like “if she wanted to, she would.” Ellie decided to try texting you. It was stupid, she believed you definitely still had her blocked. She sent you a simple “hey,” expecting it to go green. It was blue and said delivered which made Ellie immediately chuck her phone away from her. You responded a couple minutes later, “I was waiting for you to message me.”

You started texting Ellie behind Eliana’s back, talking about how Eliana was tedious and mean. Ellie would sympathize with you, telling you all the right things that made your love for her grow. A couple weeks ago, you got into a fight with Eliana. She brought up a touchy subject with you, something you felt comfortable enough to share that only Ellie knew besides her. You made her leave and called Ellie, crying. She came over to comfort you until it led into a makeout session, then she fucked you for hours. She wanted to overstimulate you to make up for lost time, she wanted to break you, she wanted to make sure you’d come crawling back to her. She would also get real gentle and sweet with you, to remind you how much she loved you without having to say it. But something about you feeling unsure about leaving Eliana for her woke something up in her. The idea of coming around when Eliana wasn’t there to get a taste of you boosted her ego. It was sneaky and gave the both of you an adrenaline rush, the idea of being caught turned the both of you on.

So you two kept seeing each other. When Eliana would leave, you’d call Ellie and ask her to come over. Or you would leave Eliana’s place and go straight to Ellie’s. Tonight was another night of arguing between you and Eliana. You couldn’t wait for her to leave so you could call Ellie and complain about everything she said. You knew Ellie would come over in a heartbeat.

“You’re so fucking full of yourself,” you spat out. Eliana groaned and reached down to grab her bag. “Yeah, that’s right. Run away from me. That's all you know. Run from all your problems and refuse to take responsibility!”

“Fuck you!” she screamed. “How about you go crawl back to that stupid bitch Ellie. I can’t put up with this bullshit anymore. She can deal with you now.”

“You know what? I just might. At least she knows how to fuck me and make me cum!” you hollered.

Eliana left, slamming the door hard. You scoffed and headed into your room, grabbing your phone off the dresser. You dialed Ellie’s number and held it up to your ear. After a ring and a half, she answered.

“Need me to come over?” she asked. You could hear the smile in her voice.

“I’m so fucking done!” you griped. “I’m over it, Ellie! Over it!”

“Wait, with me?”

“No, with Eliana. She just left,” you said.

“I’m coming,” Ellie hung up before you could respond.

Ellie shoved her phone in her pocket and looked over at Sofie, who stared down at her twiddling thumbs. “I gotta go, my friend needs me. You should probably go so I can get ready.”

Sofie looked up at her with watering eyes.

“Sorry, she comes first. She’s been through a lot and-”

“It’s her, isn’t it?” Sofie interrupted.

Ellie stayed silent, scratching her head and scrunching her nose.

Sofie got up from the couch and turned towards Ellie, placing her hands on her hips. “I should’ve known. You’ll never be over her.”

“Okay, Sofie. I don’t see why you’re bothered about it.”

“Cause we’re dating?”

Ellie chuckled which made Sofie angry. “We are not dating. I fucked you a couple times and that’s it.”

“But you gave me a key to your place?”

“Yeah, to come by whenever you wanted to fuck. I took it back because I don’t want to fuck you anymore. You never used it, anyway,” said Ellie. She was getting frustrated. She wanted to get ready and get to you as soon as possible. “I only let you come by because you said you wanted to talk.”

“Yeah, about us!” Sofie snapped.

“There is no us. There never was. I was clear from the beginning that this was short-term. You were someone to have fun with for a bit. It was alright but it’s done.”

Sofie stormed out, yelling something about how Ellie was a horrible person who used her. Ellie shrugged it off and sent you a quick text. “Getting dressed. I’ll be there soon, sweetheart.”

Ellie arrived at your place fifteen minutes later. Instead of knocking, she walked through the door and right into your room. You were already half naked in your bed, wearing a see through tank top and a thong. Ellie smirked, kicking her shoes off and removing her jeans and hoodie. Ellie already had her strap on over her boxers. Your cunt ached, desperate for Ellie’s touch.

“Needy little girl,” she teased, crawling over your trembling body. “I haven’t laid a hand on you yet and you’re already shaking.”

“You don’t know how badly I need this, Ellie.”

“What, your little bitch can’t fuck you good?” she asked in a condescending tone.

“No, Ellie. No one can,” you breathed.

Ellie brushed her fingers down your body, eliciting a moan from your lips. “My little angel, I love that you miss me when I’m gone.”

Her hands reached your panties. You thought she was gonna push them aside but instead she gripped them and tore it off, throwing the ripped fabric off to the side. You groaned, feeling your pussy throb even more. You loved when Ellie was like this. You’ve had to throw away so many panties and tights because of her. You didn’t mind though, she always got you more.

Ellie pressed the tip to your entrance. “Beg for it,” she demanded.

“Please put it in, Ellie!”

“More.”

“I want you inside me! Please,” you whined, bucking your hips forward to try to sink yourself onto her strap. She shoved your waist down and slapped you across the face, watching in awe as you yelped and held your cheek to dull the pain.

“Don’t fucking pull that again, little whore. I decide if you deserve my cock or not. Are you too stupid to get that? Huh?”

“Y-Yes, Ellie. I’m sorry. I won’t do it again.”

“Good girl. C’mon, keep begging me to fuck you,” she growled.

“I need your cock inside me, please! I want you to fucking ruin me.”

“Yeah, you wanna be my braindead little slut don’t you?” she taunted. “You don’t wanna think about anything but my cock stretching your tight cunt.”

You sighed, struggling to keep still as her hands went all over you. She shoved your shirt above your tits and grabbed them.

“Fuck me Ellie, please! I can’t take it, I need to feel you. Please,” you cried.

Ellie smirked and put her cock back to your hole, slamming it inside of you. You screamed out, gripping the sheets underneath you. Ellie wrapped her hand around your throat and squeezed tightly as she thrusted into you hard and fast. It was hard to keep your eyes open to watch Ellie. All you could manage to do was squeal in pleasure. You started to get dizzy from the lack of oxygen in your brain. Ellie noticed and took her hand away, caressing your cheek then slapping it.

“You like that, huh? Yeah?”

You couldn’t speak, unable to focus on anything besides the feeling of Ellie’s cock fucking you deeper.

“Aww, poor pup can’t talk,” she mocked.

She placed her thumb in your mouth and you opened it to suck it. Ellie moaned as you gently bit her. She pulled away and leaned towards you, her breath fanning over your face as she felt herself getting closer from the friction. “You’re mine, all mine,” she whispered. “You belong to me. You’re my pet, my fucktoy to play with. No one fucks you as good as me. Say it!”

“I’m yours,” you whimpered. You could feel your pussy tighten around Ellie’s strap. “I-I belong to you. I’m your… I’m your pet, your f-fucktoy to play with. You can u-use me anytime, anyw-where you want. Oh, fuck, I’m about to cum. P-Please can I cum, Ellie?”

Ellie nodded, giving you the permission to let your orgasm take over you. As your body shook, you absentmindedly cried out that you loved her. Ellie felt a warmth go over her entire body in adoration.

“That’s it, baby,” she cooed, fucking you through your orgasm. She was close too, all it took was you calling out her name once again and she finished. Ellie collapsed next to you, the both of you breathing heavily and giggling.

“God, I love fucking you,” spoke Ellie.

“I love when you fuck me.”

Ellie glanced over at you, admiring your glazed eyes and red puffy lips. She noticed your cheek was starting to form a bruise. “Shit, I didn’t mean to hit so hard.”

“It’s okay,” you replied. “I don’t mind.”

“It’s gonna be a nasty bruise.”

“It’s from you. It’s okay.”

Ellie relaxed at your assurance and let out a sigh. “Seriously, I wanna know what you ever saw in Eliana. She sounds like such a bitch. I mean, bringing up… y’know? I’d never do that to you. I know I’m not the best but I couldn’t say that to you. I think I’d die if I did that.”

“I saw nothing in her,” you said honestly. “I mean, she was cool at first, I guess. She really was kind. Boring but that’s just because we had nothing in common. I wanted to move on from you. She was a rebound, that’s it.”

“Then why deal with her when you could’ve been with me this entire time?” asked Ellie.

You grinned. “It’s fun, isn’t it? Sneaking around, texting each other behind her back. I hate cheaters but… really, she deserved it. She is not a good person.”

Ellie’s heart stung at the mention of cheaters, suddenly remembering the drunken nights when she’d make out with a random girl at a party or let one grind on her thigh while dancing to make you jealous. She reached over and grabbed your hand, intertwining her fingers with yours.

“I know I always apologize then do the same shit over again. But I swear to you, baby, I’ll never do it again. None of it. Without you, my life was a living hell. I would hook up with different girls but it meant nothing to me. They weren’t you. I only want to be with you. When I lost you… I knew I had really fucked up. I feel like I’ve been given a second chance. Or, well, you’ve given me lots of those but a real one.”

Something told you that Ellie was being genuine. Before, you knew she was lying just to get you to stay but didn’t mind it. You couldn’t live without her. You tried and you were an empty shell. You shouldn’t have gotten into another relationship. You should’ve gone back to Ellie months ago.

“I believe you, Ellie,” you finally vocalized. “I need you, really.”

A comfortable silence fell over the two of you as Ellie played with your fingers. “You know what’s funny?” you said.

“What?”

“Before I called you, Eliana told me she didn’t want to deal with me anymore and to crawl back to you.”

Ellie opened her mouth to say something but your phone rang. You picked it up to see Eliana’s name across the screen. You groaned, flipping it over to show Ellie. She laughed and grabbed it. “Let me answer!”

“No!” you tried to snatch it away but Ellie held it above you.

“Come on, it’ll be funny,” Ellie begged. “I’ll put it on speaker so you can hear.”

Before you could decline, Ellie answered. You tried to slap her arm but she grabbed your wrist and gave you a look before smiling. “What do you want?” she questioned.

“Wait, who is this?” Eliana asked.

“It’s me, Ellie.”

“What?”

“Eliana, listen: she took your advice and came ‘crawling’ back to me. You don’t gotta worry about her anymore. She’s in good hands.”

“What the fuck?”

Ellie muted the phone so the two of you could cackle. Whatever Eliana said, neither of you could hear it. Ellie shushed you and unmuted it. “You fucking bitch!” Eliana screamed before Ellie could talk.

“What the fuck did you just call me?”

“Can’t believe you fucking cheated on me with Ellie,” she continued, rambling to herself at this point.

“She was mine first. She always belonged to me. If you know what’s best for you, you won’t be trying to reach her again. You don’t even wanna know what I’ll do to you if you try it,” Ellie threatened. “I suggest you lose her number. Don’t get stupid and try coming over here.”

Ellie hung up the phone and went to your contacts to delete and block Eliana’s number. She set it on the dresser next to her and turned back to you. “There,” she said proudly. “You don’t have to worry about her no more. You’re my girl.”

“She… definitely deserved that,” you chuckled.

“I kinda wanna fuck you again,” said Ellie, changing the subject.

You bit your lip and swung your leg over Ellie so you were straddling her. You leaned down and kissed her softly. “You know I can’t say no to that.”

#ellie williams #ellie williams smut #ellie williams x you #tlou2 #ellie williams tlou2 #ellie williams x reader #ellie x fem reader #smut #the last of us #the last of us part two

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pumpkinbxtch · 10 days

Text

— two people, one umbrella ∘⁠˚⁠˳⁠° headcanons

the hoO boys when starts to rain and there's just one umbrella. ft. apollo

who's here: frank zhang, jason grace, leo valdez, percy jackson and apollo

warnings: none

a/n: its friday, so headcanons arrives here. kisses for y'all. enjoy.

— frank *⁠.⁠✧

This guy doesn't hesitate for a second, he's got you covered with the umbrella, most (if not all) of it.

"I don't want you getting sick," he says while holding the umbrella.

He's so tall he doesn't need to raise it any higher than necessary, and you keep pushing it toward the center so each of you gets at least a little covered.

He might pretend he's covered, but his shoulder is getting terribly soaked.

He's thinking about the shape-shift, imagining what it would be like if you had a canary on your shoulder while walking in the dry, safe rain.

But in the end, he obeys you. He takes your hand and tries to cover both of you (because he thought he might get sick, then you'd want to help him, and he doesn't want to bother you).

— jason *⁠.⁠✧

Once the umbrella is fully open, he figures out the best way for both of you to be covered, always putting you first in his mind.

He moves you in front of him, but he can see you might trip.

He considers just covering you, but he knows you'd both end up fighting and getting wet anyway.

So, he wraps his arm around your waist to pull you closer. Now, you're both under the umbrella, dry.

He smiles at you and takes advantage of the closeness to kiss your cheek and your knuckles.

“let me, my love” he says soflty if you try to help him with the umbrella.

He's the type to hold your hand and tuck it into his jacket to keep you warm.

Another thing he could do is control the air so the umbrella holds itself up and you can walk together even more comfortably.

— leo *⁠.⁠✧

"I already anticipated that!" he exclaimed when he saw that both of you weren't completely covered by the umbrella he was carrying and smiled eagerly at you.

He presses a button on the umbrella's handle and it expands even more, Hurray! You're both covered.

But...

As you continue walking on the sidewalk, Leo looks at other couples in similar positions, only much closer, cuddling and lovingly playing around, while the umbrella with the improvements he invented works so well that you even walk a bit away from him.

Oh no... :(

He wants to do those cheesy things with you too, and he plays the fool.

If a child of Hephaestus can fix something, they can also break it, so he presses the button too hard, for breaking it. The extra space is gone.

"What happened?" you ask confused, some drops start to wet your hair, and Leo smiles seeing how beautiful the dew looks on you,

he just shrugs "I don't know, I guess it doesn't work anymore" he says uninterestedly, and he pulls you to him impatiently,

definitely using some of his warmth so you don't get cold.

He adjusts himself, hugs you, and you walk together.

— percy *⁠.⁠✧

He literally gives a fuck if it rains or not, so the problem is, he never carries an umbrella.

But that's because he can control his waterproofing. If Percy Jackson doesn't want to get wet, he won't, but you're not him.

"Don't worry, babe," he says with a confident smile as you cover yourself with your hand from the increasingly heavy rain.

He bites his lips and looks above you, now the rain avoids you both, and you're no longer getting wet.

He winks at you, and you hug him sideways. Let the mist take care of what others see, and he leans in for a kiss. You give it to him.

suddenly feeling the drops hitting your hair again. For a few seconds, neither of you cares, and he hugs you, prolonging the kiss.

A kiss in the rain.

When the water trickles down your noses and you can taste some of those drops, you break apart with a giggle.

"Oops," he says, and he focuses again to keep you both rain-free.

Though you run to get home as soon as possible because for Percy, it's hard not to want to stop and kiss and cuddle you.

— apollo *⁠.⁠✧

He's a god, and the god of the Sun. He could literally make a few calls to get rid of that silly rain bothering his beloved.

But oh no, Apollo lives for the drama, for love, it's for the feelings he exist, so he conjures up an umbrella and covers you.

Apollo will definitely sing "Singing in the Rain" while dragging you along and giving you gentle spins.

For him, it's such a mundane moment, but because he's with you, he wants to turn it into the greatest musical ever told, because it's for the two of you and for him, it's better.

He takes your hand and swings it with great humor.

He's literally a sun walking on the streets full of people grumpy because of the bad weather and a gray, cloudy landscape.

When he sees you smile and chuckle, his spirit overflows with joy, and unintentionally, the sun appears among those clouds, and the rainbow makes a nice trio in the sky.

He gives you a peck on the lips when you raise your eyebrows at his mischief.

"I can't help it," he says with a smile and links your arm with his to continue the walk.

*⁠.⁠✧

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glassrowboat · 3 months

Text

Morning After

Authors note: This includes a variety of my own headcanons on these characters. The reader is gender neutral. This includes only the male harbingers, but I am willing to write one for the chicks too ^^

Capitano.

-The instant you stirred in your sleep, just the slightest twitch, and you were pinned to the mattress with a looming figure above you. His black hair tickled your skin, swaying back and forth from the sudden movement, but that was barely a concern when this man who had been so sweet with you last night was suddenly acting like a switch that flipped off in his brain. All you could tell was one discernable thing after the sudden surprise: there was no escape if he didn't want there to be.

-”Capitano?” You called out, voice hesitant and barely a whisper as fear choked back the ability to speak confidently.

-Immediately the tense nature that had over taken his form fell, shoulders no longer strung together as that soldier who had been pinning you down held you close and started apologizing for startling you.

-He didn't have to say it, he didn't want to, bit for a moment there the Captain had mistaken you for someone that crept into his chambers with ill intent. He's a soldier. War is what he's known for. This caution just comes with the territory.

-To make up for his own actions he makes sure you're well fed, given a hearty breakfast (one a little too big for you to fully eat but he doesn't mind giving you some Tupperware to take it home in) and tea.

-It's just he's a terrible conversationalist, barely talking as he just nods along to whatever you say, making you carry the flow the entire morning as he adds in an occasion “yes, interesting, or no.”

-At least he's handsome under that helmet.

Childe.

-Fell off the bed the moment he saw you, a shout falling from his lips from the surprise of the fall and well, this naked person in his bed.

-Why he didn't expect you to wake up and throw a pillow at his head for being so darn loud when you have a hangover? Well, only Celestia knows. Though he didn't bother to block it, simply accepted getting hit as it didn't even knock him back.. well that is if he didn't play along and dramatically fell down onto the floor.

-”Are you always such a drama queen?”

-”A guy can't play along with a joke?”

-Very sweet, but a little bit annoying as he asks about you in as many questions he can think of. What's your favorite color? What's your job?

-Admittedly Childe has never had a one night stand before so he doesn't know what to do in this position so when you give him a sweet smile and tell him to just to let you get dressed for now he goes to get a stray shirt for you.

-Definitely wants to see you again, and not just in the bedroom.

-”So where do you come from?”

-”Give me five minutes for fucks sake.”

Dottore.

-First off, what? He's aware each harbinger has their own little dedicated fan club, even him…for some reason. Yet for him to willingly bring someone, possibly one of them, to his bed? People aren't allowed in his personal quarters. Hell, he barely uses it himself, opting to sleep on that one couch in the laboratory. So why the switch in his normal behavioral patterns?

-(I personally see Dottore as a virgin so for this dweeb to lose it this way-)

-Admittedly, he's on edge from trying to remember what happened, the haze of sleep, and the shock of seeing someone he apparently trusted enough to bring to bed. It only made sense he was scowling at this sleeping body. It wouldn't be easy enough to just call it a new test subject, use the sheets as restraints to drag this stranger down to his lab and shove them in a cell but..

-Maybe not this time.

-Instead he gets up and throws on some clothes as quickly as possible, making sure to slot his mask in place despite the fact you have very obviously already seen what lies underneath. That and more.

-It has proven more useful than not to use that thing to hide his expressions.

- Depending on if he drank last night and that's what had him indulging in the warmth of another person's body, Dottore would have one of his clones stand by until you wake up. They can deal with the situation from there and take you home while he gets some caffeine in his body. An easy way to rid of a hangover and forget his newfound company.

-If it was a completely sober decision, Dottore no longer has the excuse that he simply got ahead of himself from the drink and would therefore be hostile in response. Unable to put up with this one bit, he would be telling his bed partner to get dressed and head home already so he can get back to work instead of watching over pointless little you.

-Don't try and say anything about possibly being emotionally attached, it would only anger him. Boy is not used to being open or vulnerable with anyone and you suddenly appearing and having held him so close last night would only set him off in the worst of ways.

Pantalone.

-First thing this man notices is he's just not as comfy as usual, somehow this mattress isn't right, he isn't sinking into the soft plush he spent thousands on. Not even his haze of grogginess was enough to make tossing and turning twist his body into comfort. (Goldilocks having motherfucker). So with a steady hand he reaches out to find his glasses on the nightstand, silver chains rattling on the surface as he pulls them close.

-A one night stand isn't an uncommon thing to the regrator, for him it's happened a small handful of times before but it's never something he's typically the better for in the morning. A man of his position caught slinking into a woman's bedroom as they drunkenly grope at eachother was far from a good look. Not to mention you never knew if the individual would keep their mouth shut.

-That has been a problem with one particular individual in the past that has henceforth been ‘dealt with.’

-But the person laying besides him was still conked out and wrapped in a good majority of the blankets the bedding had to offer. Well, a bit of a thief aren't they? Pantalone almost wanted to laugh but kept his mouth sealed shut, already knowing it's best not to wake you.

-Slowly he got up and out of the bed, trying to keep it from creaking too loudy, to put on last night's clothes. He'll take a shower and get changed into something clean later.

-With one last peak towards the stranger he spent the night with Pantalone slipped out of the front door.

Pierro.

-He's confused.

-Now he understands what happened, the sight of you naked and curled up into him is more than enough to make that clear; though your underwear basically on his favorite pillow definitely would have gotten the point across either way. But, like, him? You who look so much younger, livelier compared to what Pierro sees in the mirror every day after five hundred years haunting him.

-Maybe that joke the second made about people liking ‘older folks’ was based on reality.

-Would greedily allow himself to hold you in his arms for a time. It started with him first saying one minute, that's all he'd allow himself. Then that turned into five, then ten, then twenty. Eventually he would barely wish to nudge you awake even though he knows better.

-Don't go getting attached when there's so much left to do.

-When he finally did wake you up he did his best to make sure you wouldn't get startled, softly calling out the name he was given last night. It's just a shame you do, startling as your hand nearly wacked his face from sheer shock. (Though who can blame you? It's not everyday you blearliy open your eyes, vision still blurry as you take in a man with white hair and stars in his- wait is that the fucking Pierro? Oh fuck).

-The type to help you find your clothes and call for a cab so he knows you get home safely.

-Now all that's left is trying to figure out how to hide the hickey you planted on him.

Scaramouche.

-Let's be real here, you're not making it to the morning.

-He had no clue why he was allowing this, allowing a humans lips to fall to his own with such fevered need. In any other situation he'd be pushing them off, telling this person they're a useless worm that shouldn't ever have walked these lands if all they was going to do was use their life to paw at him. Oh but to worshipped was a delight.

-Kisses pressed to the wooden skin of his puppet body like small prayers to the God he will one day be. This is what humans are made for, aren't they? To give their all to a greater being. So readily Scaramouche let himself be tugged along as you pulled him to wherever you pleased, ready to lavish in the attention he so rarely got.

-A human isn't a threat after all.

-Yet when you tugged on his short, pulling them down just low enough for your mouth to eagerly await something filling it, everything took a turn for the worst.

-”Wait a minute, you don't have genitals?”

-And in a heartbeat you were struck with a bolt of lightning that had you dead on the spot.

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #hoyoverse #x reader #capitano x reader #capitano #childe x reader #dottore x reader #Pantalone x reader #pierro x reader #scaramouche x reader #dottore #pantalone #childe #tartaglia x reader #gn reader #headcanons

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solarmorrigan · 3 months

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Hands Where I Can See Them, Part 6

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

The days pass like cold mud – slow, uncomfortable, and relentless.

But they do pass.

Eddie had said he could give Steve the time he needed, and he’d meant it; he would wait out the two weeks and be there on the other side to talk to him. To hope for a second chance.

They see each other here and there, mostly in passing: Steve comes to pick a few of the kids up from a gaming session; Eddie stops in at Family Video with Jeff, Gareth, and Oliver to grab a movie (where Jeff and Steve exchange a surprisingly friendly greeting); they occupy separate sides of the room at a group dinner.

Each time, Eddie is sure to at least acknowledge and wave at Steve, in spite of any protective hovering and scowling Robin might be doing if she happens to be present. Steve gives cautious nods in return at first, but as they near the deadline, he’s returning Eddie’s distant greetings with a hesitant smile and that ridiculous little finger-wiggle wave that Eddie had been reluctantly charmed by in the beginning.

And in the meantime, Eddie plots.

He is not, by nature, an optimist (strangely, between the two of them, that’s Steve’s area), but in this instance, he plans for the best: the idea that Steve will say yes and let Eddie take him on a proper date. And as improvisational as Eddie likes to be, he’s also a veteran dungeon master and plotter of all sorts of campaigns; if you want long-term plans to go off without a hitch, it pays to be prepared.

So, he plots.

He brainstorms and makes lists of all of Steve’s favorite things and schemes out elaborate romantic gestures and draws on all the knowledge he’s retained from the romcoms he’d whined about having to watch with Steve but had always given in over when Steve gave him that puppy-eyed look that Eddie has no defense against.

(And somehow, he’d continued to think they were just friends. His lack of awareness should be studied as a scientific anomaly.)

He thinks Steve would be proud of his accumulated work (and Eddie himself isn’t ashamed of it, but all the same, he makes sure to hide the notebook where none of the guys will ever, ever stumble across it, because they would never, ever let Eddie live it down).

In any case, the ticking down of two weeks finally comes to an end, and Eddie stands in front of the phone earlier than he’d normally care to be awake, hoping that his work will pay off.

Steve picks up before the fourth ring, just like he always does, and answers the phone like a dork, just like he always does.

“Harrington residence, Steve speaking.”

This is where Eddie normally makes a joke – says he’d been trying for the funeral home and asks if Steve happens to have a shovel and some time on his hands; says he thought he’d had the number for the Hawkins Gentleman’s Club and asks if Steve is much of a dancer; once, he’d even affected a terrible New York accent and spun some lines about how he’d been trying to call a speakeasy. He can always hear the laughter caught behind Steve’s dry responses to his nonsense, and he always loves it.

But now is not “normally,” and Eddie only just manages to sound like himself as he replies, “Steve. Just the Harrington I was hoping would speak.”

“Eddie,” is all Steve says for a moment; he sounds almost surprised, but not displeased. “Hey.”

“Hey,” Eddie says back. “So, I know punctuality has never been my strong suit, but it’s, uh. It’s been two weeks. Pretty much on the dot. And you said I should come talk to you again, so…”

“Uh, yeah. Yeah, no, did you – You can come over. If you want to talk, still,” Steve says – stammers, really, like he’s been caught off-guard, like he really hadn’t been expecting Eddie to call.

“Well, if I didn’t change my mind in two weeks, I’m not gonna change my mind in the fifteen minutes it takes to get to your house,” Eddie says.

“Sure,” Steve says, a little steadier now. “Yeah, I’ll see you in a bit, I guess.”

“You definitely will,” Eddie assures him. “See you in a bit, Steve.”

“Yeah. Yes. Bye, Eddie.”

It’s awkward, but – it’s something.

The only reason Eddie doesn’t break an egregious number of traffic laws on his way to Steve’s house is because he simply couldn’t bear the irony of getting arrested now, of all times. With his luck, he’d get sent up the river and Steve would be left waiting and waiting at his house before coming to the conclusion that Eddie had never really cared about him after all, only to be found surprised and jaded several years later when Eddie is finally released from prison and makes his first stop the Harrington house and – Christ, Eddie’s had romance on the brain too long. He’s going to have to binge reread Lord of the Rings or something to get his head back on straight.

He pulls his head out of the clouds and his van into the Harrington’s ridiculously massive driveway and heads up to the door with a vibrating surplus of energy sustained entirely by nerves and determination.

It seems like he’s not the only one running on anxiety power, though, based on how quickly the door opens after Eddie rings the bell.

It’s the first time Eddie’s really seen Steve up close since the trailer two weeks ago. He looks– better. He’s still tired, Eddie can tell; he’s got that slightly droopy look around his eyes and an almost painful set to his jaw that’s nearly impossible to spot if you don’t know what to look for – and most people don’t (but Eddie’s spent a lot of time learning Steve, even if he hadn’t picked up all the right tells). But he still looks better, and Eddie finds himself relieved.

“Hey, there,” he says, giving Steve a nod. “Just happened to be in the neighborhood, y’know. Thought I’d drop by.”

Steve shakes his head, a tiny smile quirking up at one corner of his mouth. “Come in, jackass.”

“Fine way to treat your guests,” Eddie drawls in return, gratified when Steve’s smile grows just a tiny bit more.

He takes off his shoes at the entryway (Steve hardly ever asks anyone to take off their shoes, because worrying about the state of your floors isn’t cool, but it bothers him all the same, and so Eddie takes them off) and follows Steve through to the living room, where they both perch awkwardly on the couch and sit in an equally awkward silence for about thirty seconds.

“So… you said I should come talk to you,” Eddie says finally.

“I did, yeah.” Steve nods.

“You said to tell you if this was still something I wanted,” Eddie goes on.

“I did, yeah,” Steve says again. “And… you’re here.”

“I told you I wouldn’t change my mind, Steve.” Eddie’s hand twitches, almost instinctively reaching out for a spot on Steve’s knee, or around his wrist, or threaded through his fingers, but he doesn’t think he can take Steve freezing up or pulling away again. “This – you, us – I still want it. I want to do it right. If you’ll give me the chance, I want to treat you how you should be treated.”

Steve nods. “Okay.”

Eddie blinks. “Okay? As in – just, yeah, okay?” He knows he’s not making much sense, but he’d been sort of prepared to have to make his case – to extol the virtues of the perfect dates he had planned, to sing the praises of all the things he knows now that he should appreciate about Steve, to lament the loss of trust and ease between them, but instead Steve is just sitting there, watching him with a funny sort of smile on his face.

“I was… I was never going to say no, Eddie.” Steve shrugs. “I just really needed you to think about it. To make sure this—a real relationship with… with me—is really what you wanted. Because if it’s not, if you took it back again, I don’t think I’d– I just really needed you to be sure.”

“Steve,” Eddie says, low and serious, “I have never been more sure of anything in my life. A real relationship with you is exactly what I want.”

Steve’s smile twitches, changes into something a little more familiar, a little warmer. “Okay.”

“You’re never gonna regret it, sweetheart,” Eddie says, can’t help bouncing a little in his seat as his nerves turn to excitement, to elation. “I have the corniest, most romantic dates planned, I swear, I’m going to knock your socks off. We’ll unlock your inner Molly Ringwald.”

Rolling his eyes, Steve shakes his head at Eddie. “You really don’t have to do all that. I’m not– putting you through a trial, or whatever, we can just go back to what we were doing, right? Just with… I dunno, more awareness.”

“Noooo, no.” Eddie shakes his head right back. “You said you didn’t want to pretend nothing ever happened, and you shouldn’t have to. I want to do this, Steve. Let me take you on a real date.”

Something unreadable flashes across Steve’s face, and suddenly his smile is wrong again. Sort of plastic – like he’s trying, but it’s not quite reaching his eyes. But before Eddie can ask what’s wrong, Steve is shrugging.

“If you insist…”

“I most certainly do,” Eddie says firmly. “I’m gonna romance the shit out of you.”

At that, Steve releases a helpless snort of laughter, and the plastic smile is gone, blown away by a real one.

“You’re making a super good argument for it,” Steve says, and Eddie grins.

“Aren’t I?” He bats his eyelashes. “So tell me: you free on Friday night?”

“I’m working, actually. Someone has to dole out dumb romances to other people out on dates,” Steve says drily, as if he himself hasn’t seen most of the films he’s maligning.

Eddie hums. “Saturday?”

“I could probably get someone to cover my shift,” Steve hedges, teasing and flirty and everything Eddie’s missed in the last few weeks.

“So you’ll be free?” Eddie asks.

“As a bird – as long as that bird isn’t a robin, considering who’s going to have to cover for me,” Steve says, and Eddie pulls a grimace.

“Yeah, maybe don’t tell her why you need the shift covered. I get the feeling she wouldn’t be as agreeable if she knew I was involved,” he says.

“I don’t think Robin’s ever been agreeable in her life, and she’d probably resent the accusation.” Steve smirks. “But as long as she doesn’t think I’m sneaking away to see you, and if I take the Monday morning shift she really hates, I don’t think it’ll be a problem. Let’s plan for Saturday?”

“Saturday it is!” Eddie pops up off the couch, both unwilling to sour the mood by overstaying his welcome, and suddenly overflowing with the need to set preparations in motion. “Six o’clock, sharp! I’ll pick you up.”

“Do I get to know where we’re going?” Steve asks, one eyebrow cocked.

“Absolutely not. The surprise is part of the experience,” Eddie says.

“Dress code, at least?” Steve wheedles, and Eddie supposes that’s fair.

“Casual. And bring a jacket,” Eddie says.

Both of Steve’s brows go up now, as he rises from the couch to follow Eddie back out towards the door. “Telling someone to bring outerwear to a date is usually a red flag, man,” he says, watching as Eddie shoves his shoes back on.

“But you love being outside,” Eddie counters, glancing up at Steve with a grin.

“I,” Steve pauses, blinking at him. “I guess.”

“And no more hints,” Eddie says, rising from the floor and reaching for the door handle. “I’ll see you on Saturday?”

“Yeah,” Steve says, his voice warming around a small, pleased smile, “I’ll see you on Saturday.”

“Can’t wait.” Eddie throws one last grin at him before stepping out into the brisk, late fall air.

He doesn’t stop smiling the whole way home.

Part 7

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#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #eddiesteve #things are going to start picking up soon 👀#solar wrote

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itoshiexx · 5 months

Text

thin line

synopsis: four times itoshi rin said he hated you, and the one time he finally said the truth.

pairing: itoshi rin x gn!reader | words: 5k (insane) | warnings: enemies to (implied) lovers, cursing (rin being rin), rin is a total tsundere and emotionally constipated, banter, teasing, one (1) sexual implication towards the end, i use the word hate a lot, kinda proofread

notes: oh my GOD. you have no idea how hard it was for me to write (and finish!) this. writer's block has been kicking my ass really hard and honestly i don't even know if i like this but i swear to god if this flops i'll kms. (jk. maybe. or not.)

masterlist sae's 4+1

itoshi rin was a hater.

he didn’t consider himself one, naturally. rin thought he was a pretty chill guy, but apparently, everyone who had some sort of interaction with the younger itoshi felt the same kind of vibe coming from him. at least, it was what his stupid teammates said after claiming rin was always hating on something — whether it was the line in the coffee shop being too long, every pass given to him by isagi or the librarian with “a stupid fish-face”.

on his defense, no one liked long lines, isagi had two left feet when it came to passing and the librarian was a fucking weirdo. even if he was a hater, he had a plausible reason for everything he hated.

“itoshi.”

that included you, of course.

rin was pretty convinced it was impossible not to hate you. every time he entered your shared biology class, a mere look at you was enough for his irk to grow even more. everything about you was just obnoxious.

you were loud. and, although unpleasant, that wouldn’t be much of a problem if you just weren’t unable to shut the fuck up and stop rambling excitedly at every friend you met. and you had many. you were some kind of weird social butterfly with infinite energy for social interactions — in a way, you reminded him of bachira.

but bachira was not always jumping at every chance to refute him with a know-it-all smirk. bachira wasn’t perpetually ready to throw witty remarks at his rudeness. and bachira definitely didn’t have a pretty gleam on his eyes every time he headbutted with rin.

in short, you were everything itoshi rin hated. and the worst part was that you knew. you knew how much your very existence annoyed him, and it seemed like you took as your life mission to make the next two years of his life a living hell.

“itoshi.” your voice reached his ears again. well, maybe if he just ignored you, you would… “itoshi!”

“what the fuck do you want?” he snapped, diverting his attention from the match playing on his phone to look at you. “i told you not to call me that.”

another thing he hated — to be called by his last name. it reminded him way too much of sae, and that was something rin didn’t want to do. but it wasn’t like he was going to tell you that, so he’d rather let you think he just didn’t want you to address him at all. which wasn’t a lie, either.

you gave him a puzzled look, tilting your head like an innocent puppy. a fake naivety, of course. “we’re not close enough for me to call you by your first name, though.”

“thank fuck.”

your eyes rolled at that. “language, itoshi.” he glared at you again, and you fixed your posture, putting your hands on the back pockets of your jeans. the malicious smile you gave sent chills down his spine.

“well, i just came to deliver you the news since you missed last period. there’s a project worth 75% of our grade to be delivered in two months, and guess what? we’re together!”

oh, hell no.

“you tell terrible jokes.”

“i’m serious, though. if you don’t believe me, just ask your friends,” you said, so absentmindedly that rin felt his blood pressure rising. he opened his mouth to retort, but you beat him to it. “and before you try, the teacher already said no one can work alone and that the pairs cannot be exchanged.”

his left eye twitched, and he was pretty sure all his muscles were tight and ready to combust. life just couldn’t give him a break, could it? it was like he was being punished — forced to work with you, of all people. what a fucking nightmare.

how the hell was he supposed to endure two months of constant interactions with your annoying sassiness and the pretty curve of your lips when you smirked? it might just drive him crazy.

“so, when can we start, partner?”

rin rolled his eyes so hard they almost got stuck on the back of his skull.

“i hate you.”

ii.

the soccer field was probably the only place rin felt at peace. the smell of grass and sweat was as familiar as his home, much like the round shape of the ball on his feet and the path to the goal. despite his rowdy teammates and their dumb antics, there wasn’t much that was able to distract him and break this peacefulness.

“itoshi!”

there was still something, though. or someone, for that matter.

the shock of seeing you in his “happy place” was so big rin nearly tripped on the ball, successfully letting bachira steal it from him. the snickers from reo and isagi made his skin boil with anger, but his harsh glare was directed at you — the fucking source of all his problems.

and no, he was not being dramatic.

“what are you doing here.”

it wasn’t really a question, more like a veiled threat; but you seemed oblivious to it, or simply didn’t care about his reaction. something in him even thought you liked getting on his nerves. he was sure of it when you smirked.

“the project, dummy. we need to start today if we want to get it done in time. it’s pretty long, hence why we have two months.”

“i can’t today,” was all he said.

“why?”

“because,” rin spat with venom on his tongue, “i have an important game next week.”

you stared at him in silence. rin would have thought about how the sun shining on your back framed you with a perfect halo and gave you a nearly angelic look if he wasn’t so busy controlling the heat on his face from your scrutiny. he hated when you did that. he hated you.

“we have to start today, itoshi. i’ll wait until you finish practicing so we can go to the library.”

he hated your stubbornness. he hated your voice, too — how it sounded like a siren’s melody, ready to trap him and bring him to the bottom of the ocean.

“fine. suit yourself.”

the young itoshi turned around and went back to the field, ignoring aryu’s pestering and shidou asking about who you were and if he could have your number. rin pondered if a yellow card was worth shutting up the insect, but eventually decided against it; he didn’t want ego to bench him, especially when they were so close to the tournament next week.

the rest of the game went pretty smoothly, although rin and his teammates could tell he had half of his focus on the sidelines, where you sat prettily at the stands with your laptop. a perpetual scowl was on his face throughout the rest of the match. you were so damn distracting it was annoying.

once the match was over, some of the boys went home, while others continued practicing, rin being one of them. he was expecting you to grow tired and give up, especially considering it was getting darker and colder, but you didn’t waver. your face was still present on the stands, haunting him even if he closed his eyes. you even had the audacity to smile when your gazes crossed.

he hated your smile. he did.

hours passed until every one of his teammates had gone home, and rin was the only one left in the field. deciding it was finally enough (and not admitting he was starting to worry for you), he stopped his moves, finishing up with a few stretches so that his muscles weren’t too sore. he stored the footballs on the cart and put away the cones, something that was already routine at that point since he was usually the last one to leave.

finally, rin walked towards you.

“i’m done,” he said as he approached you on the sideline of the field. his gym bag was right at your side, and he ignored the electricity that sparked his skin when it grazed yours.

your eyes averted from your laptop to look at him. “oh, hi! thought you’d take a little longer,” you retorted. “anyways, i’m done too.”

he stopped his movement. “what?”

“yeah, i finished the first topic. only fourteen more to go.” the giggle that flew out of your mouth reverberated through his body. rin watched as you stood up and stretched, looking away when your shirt rode up and a sliver of your stomach could be seen. you then proceeded to put your laptop away, and his brows furrowed.

“i don’t get it. i thought you said… you said it was too much stuff to do by yourself.” you nodded, not even looking at him. rin kind of wished you did. “and yet you did everything?”

“well, yes.”

his scowl only worsened. “what the fuck? why?”

you slung your bag through your shoulder, looking at him with those damn doe-eyes that always sparkled so much. it was annoying. why did they remind him of the stars? and why did rin wanted to watch the night sky on your face?

“you said you have an important game next week, so i figured it wouldn’t kill to do the first topic by myself,” you answered. “don’t get used to it, though! you’re gonna have to help on the next ones, partner.”

the young itoshi ignored the stupid nickname, his brain still trying to catch up to everything. something just wasn’t clicking…

“so why the hell did you wait for me to finish practice?”

you didn’t even falter.

“thought you could use the company.” you shrugged. and although your voice was nonchalant, you were smiling. and not your typical mischievous smirk — it was a sweet, sweet smile, dripped in honey and all things good in the world.

rin’s heart leaped on his chest. he could feel his cheeks becoming flushed, but he blamed it on the cold.

coming to think of it, it was really cold. and you sat there for hours… if he looked closely, he could see your frame shivering from the lack of proper clothing.

a little tsk came out of his mouth, and rin impulsively took off his jacket, throwing it on your face — ignoring the “hey!” you sent his way.

“what’s that for, itoshi?!”

“so that you don’t freeze to death, dumbass.”

rin had to admit your gaping expression was kind of cute. not that he would commit to memory or something… that would be lukewarm, and he was anything but lukewarm. especially when it came to you.

“don’t get any ideas, though,” he said before you could retort, turning around to follow the path to his dorm room, “i still hate you.”

iii.

things were calmer after the game passed. rin often found himself at the university library with you after his practice, leaving around nine or ten, and walking you to your dorm building simply because he didn’t want to be bothered in case something happened to you. not like he was worried for your safety or anything.

you still got on his nerves, but the project was going surprisingly well. rin learned you were very dedicated and meticulous, meaning you put in a lot of effort to focus and make everything as perfect as it could be. he wished he could say his focus was also as sharp as ever, but the scent of your coconut shampoo always lingered on the study booths and made his mind fuzzy.

it was tuesday night and you were both on your laptops doing research and writing on your paper, falling into the same little routine you established the past weeks. the library was nearly empty as usual — though you always sat at the furthest cabin because rin didn’t like to see, hear or speak to people — and the only sound in the ambience was the pitter patter of the rain.

everything seemed to be going fine, but things changed when the rain got heavier and became a strong thunderstorm that made the lights go out.

“fuck,” rin cursed under his breath, looking around to hear other people mumbling complaints and the librarian saying she would turn on the power generator, asking for calm and patience. he squeezed the bridge of his nose, annoyed, and turned to you. “hey, do you think—”

then he stopped.

the only source of light was the screen of your laptops and the occasional lightning striking on the dark sky, but rin could see you on the other side of the table as clear as day. and he felt his heart squeeze impossibly hard with the sight.

you were shaking like a leaf, hands squeezed tight and nails prickling your skin, and your eyes were widened and so, so scared. he had never seen you wear such an expression, always familiar with your confidant, cheery self, and he decided he didn’t like one bit.

“hey,” he whispered, trying to grasp your attention. however, your eyes were focused outside. “hey, look at me.”

slowly, your orbs met his, and rin felt his breath hitch. there were tears on your lash line threatening to fall, and panic began to rise on his throat; but he forced himself to stay calm for your sake.

“what’s wrong?”

your lips trembled, but nothing came out. he hated your voice, but found himself missing it. so he tried again.

“are you… afraid of the dark?”

his question was answered when the sound of another thunder reverberated again, making you visibly flinch. his gaze softened when a small hiccup left your lips.

“oh. it’s the thunder.”

you nodded, still unable to talk. rin could see you were forcing yourself to keep your sobs contained, as if the mere thought of crying in front of him was as dangerous as standing at gunpoint. like his words — venomous, harsh, cold words — could hurt you just as much as a bullet.

his stomach churned with that thought. he hated it.

so, as carefully as he could so as not to startle you, rin stood up from his seat and walked around the table until he reached the chair at your side, sitting on it. he felt you body tense with the proximity, more so when he slightly turned to stare at you, and felt the need to say something.

“it’s okay,” he murmured, so impossibly soft you could hardly believe it was itoshi rin saying those words to you.

it was even more unbelievable when he enveloped your body in a hug, bringing your head to his chest as if to shelter you from the thunder.

rin really hoped you couldn't hear the unrestrained beating of his heart. everything about that moment made him nearly combust; from the ever present smell of your shampoo when he rested his nose in your hair, the evident relaxation of your frame when he hugged you or the small arms that held his waist as if he was the only lifeline in the ocean.

you let your sobs and sniffles run free, burying yourself deeper in his embrace, and all rin could do was pat your hair and whisper soft reassurances on your ear.

it’s okay. you are safe. i won’t let it hurt you.

he didn’t know how long you both stayed in that position, but as he enjoyed the warmth of your body next to his, your sobs eventually died out along with the roaring sound of thunder. the rain became thinner and the lights finally came back, although neither of you made a move to separate.

the silence lingered for a moment before you broke it, “thank you.”

the male only hummed, trying to hide his disappointment when you slowly backed away. though his hand didn’t leave you, going from your hair to rest on your hip in some type of reassurance squeeze.

“i-i’m sorry, it’s just…”

“you don’t have to explain,” he interrupted. then, hesitantly added, “only if you want to.”

“it’s not something big or anything… this fear has just kind of been there. i think something happened to me when i was a kid and it was thundering, so every time it happens i just… freeze.” you shook your head. “it’s stupid.”

he frowned. “it’s not stupid if it makes you this terrified. it’s okay, we all have fears.”

you were yet to look him in the eye, seemingly embarrassed about your triggered phobia. “i cried on your shirt.”

“yeah.”

“it has tears stains.”

“yeah.”

you sighed. “i’m sorry.”

he squeezed your hip again. “don’t apologize.”

you finally raised your head to look at him, and rin could very much consider himself a lost man at that moment. your eyes were glistening from the remnant of tears, but that pretty gleam was still there, barging its way through any sadness and any fear to present itself with the shy smile you sent him.

even if it was still dark, he would be able to see it, because you shined. brightly, scorchingly and so, so mesmerizing, like some sort of classic painting worth millions of dollars. if rin had the choice, he wouldn’t want to look away.

“i think it’s enough for today,” you said, “do you mind if we continue tomorrow?”

“i don’t mind,” rin answered, although he secretly wished to bask in your warmth for a little longer. “i’ll take you to your dorm building. i brought an umbrella.”

because he knew you were a klutz and would most likely forget. not that he paid attention to you or something.

you smiled again, and rin had to use all of his might to let go of you and go back to his chair to pick up his stuff. silently, you both put away your things and left the study booth towards the exit, where the younger itoshi opened his umbrella and started to walk towards your destination. he felt his skin burning when you tangled your arm with his so that you were squeezed together under the shelter for the rain.

around ten minutes later, you finally arrived at your dorm building. and then, as the little minx you were, you stood on your toes to press a kiss to his cheek before running inside along with your goodbyes.

“thank you, rin!”

he stood there like a statue for what felt like an eternity, feeling his face impossibly hot. rin touched his cheek in mild disbelief, feeling butterflies erupting on his stomach without permission.

it was only then he realized you called him by his actual name, and a smile inevitably took over his features.

fuck.

itoshi rin hated you. but that day, he discovered that he hated seeing you cry even more.

iv.

he didn’t really know what the fuck he was doing there. rin was not the kind of guy who went to parties, much less fraternity ones; but somehow he ended up in one on a saturday night after a lot of convincing from his teammates. he claimed he only accepted so that isagi would shut up and stop pestering him, but the said boy insisted to say he only agreed after learning you would be there.

which was absurd, of course. a completely crazy, delusional and absurd thought. why would he want your obnoxious self to go and ruin the party? rin hated you.

right?

the music was loud and the people were even louder. there were dozens of bodies on the makeshift dance floor swaying to the beat, along with some people playing beer pong and small groups scattered around talking as best as they could. rin was part of the last type, although he was tuning out everything that bachira blabbed on his ear like a madman. his focus was solely on the entrance.

and then, you came in.

it was like a stupid romance movie — the way everything seemed to be in slow motion. from the way you walked, to the slight movement of your hair, to the blink of your curved eyelashes. and god, how much he hated that.

he hated the way your mere presence prickled his skin. how your voice soothed his lousy thoughts, how your smile lit up the room. he hated this urge inside of him to look for you every time he knew you'd be in the same vicinity, like you were some source of life that he couldn’t live without.

“are you okay, rin-chan?” bachira’s voice took him out of his thoughts. he blinked a few times.

“yeah, i’m fine.”

now, rin wasn’t a drinker; the red cup on his hand was merely for show. but he gulped some beer at that moment, as if trying to wake up from a hazy dream or get out of a trance. it made sense — he did think you were a siren of some sort.

there was no other reason for the spell you put on him.

the party went on, and he spent a few hours avoiding you like the plague and pretending he wasn’t stealing glances at every chance he got. truth is, he was always paying attention when you were swaying your hips on the dance floor like there was no tomorrow, glaring at every guy who thought about getting close while holding back his own desire to do the same.

it was only when you left to the backyard that his teammates finally decided to say something.

“you should talk to them” reo advised, eyebrows dancing in a weird, wiggly way. rin grimaced.

“what? why?”

the boys rolled their eyes and groaned, tired of the younger itoshi’s behavior.

“rin, man. you are clearly interested in them. and i’m pretty sure they’re interested in you, too,” isagi said slowly, as if rin was a child. “otherwise, they wouldn’t make the effort to pester you.”

rin could feel his face flushing. “i’m not—”

“don’t even try to deny it. it’s kind of obvious, really,” chigiri butted in, an exasperated countenance on his face. “just go, rin.”

he let out a tsk, chugging the rest of his drink and throwing the cup on the trash. “i’m going out just because i don’t want to keep listening to you idiots.”

“yeah, right,” nagi snickered, and the others followed, watching rin turn his back and move towards the backyard, where he would inevitably find you.

the chilly air hit his skin the moment he stepped out, and rin kind of thanked the relief it gave to his hot cheeks. quickly looking around, it was easy to spot your lonely frame leaning on the wall, staring at the stars as if they weren’t in your eyes. he walked to you like his feet had their own will, and once he got close enough, leaned the side of his body on the wall, facing you.

“you’re cold.”

not even a hello, how are you to start. great conversationalist, itoshi rin.

you turned your head to look at him, smiling when recognition took over your features. “hey, itoshi! didn’t think i’d meet you here!”

the giggle that went past your lips was the only reason he didn’t scowl when you didn’t call him rin.

“parties are not really my thing, but my friends convinced me to come.” you nodded, understanding. he blinked a couple of times, and said again, “you’re cold.”

you slightly flushed. “it’s just a bit chilly, but it’s not a big deal…”

but rin was already shrugging off his jacket, moving to be right in front of you as if to shield you from the wind. he handed the piece of clothing to you. “here.”

“oh… thank you,” you answered, bashful, taking the jacket and putting it on.

last time he lent you one, he didn’t stay to see how you looked like. but at that moment, rin was sure there was nothing prettier than the sight of you in his clothes. he swallowed a nervous lump from his throat.

“so… why are you out here by yourself?”

“needed some air. i danced a lot and it was kind of stuffy in there.” you shrugged. then, fiddling with your fingers, you look straight into his eyes. “and maybe… maybe i was hoping someone would follow.”

someone. you had your eyes on someone.

rin didn’t know what was worse: the stinging pain on his heart or the bitter taste left on his tongue. what he did know was that both felt like poison, one that would spread through his veins and consume him whole. and that he shouldn’t feel like this. because he hated you, after all.

he must have made a terrible grimace, because you threw your hands in the air in exasperation.

“for fucks sake.”

and then your lips were on his.

it was just a fleeting moment — something way too quick and definitely not enough to sate the dormant hunger inside of him. in the blink of an eye, you were already back in your place, staring at him with doe-eyes and a hundred doubts written in them.

rin freezed for a whole full minute with his mouth agape, until finally lunging forward to kiss you again. his right arm wrapped possessively around your waist to glue your bodies together, while his left hand found a place in your jaw, cradling your face as if you were some precious jewel. his lips were hungry on yours, and you gasped with the intensity, giving him the opportunity to shove his tongue inside your mouth.

kissing you was exhilarating, like scoring the perfect goal or winning a championship. adrenaline ran high on his veins and his head was a little airy. and rin swore he never felt so alive.

when you finally parted, you were both panting, chest heaving with every breath. rin rested his forehead against yours, directing both of his hands to your middle as if to look for grounding.

“you still hate me, itoshi?” you asked in a whisper, mouth inches away from his but still not close enough. that dangerous gleam was still settled in your eyes, and he could swear you were the perfect definition of sinful every time you batted your eyelashes at him.

“call me rin.”

“okay,” you giggled lightly. “you still hate me, rin?”

he could feel his blood pulsing on his ears. “yeah,” he answered, way too breathless for an athlete of his caliber.

and then, holding your waist tighter, “kiss me again.”

“we should get coffee.”

rin’s words cut the silence as you were exiting the library yet again. you looked up to see his face staring straight ahead, expression unreadable as always, but the light redness on the tip of his ears told you all you needed to know.

you decided to be a tease, as always. “hm… i don’t know, should we? you sure you want to spend even more time with someone you hate?”

he scowled like usual, but this time, there was a small pout on his lips. you thought he looked the cutest when he was like that, all shy and trying to maintain his stoic act.

he grumbled something under his breath.

“what was that?”

“i said,” he sneered, “i don’t hate you, stupid.”

you arched your brow. “you don’t?”

“do you think i would have kissed you if i did?” the smirk you give him is both charming and infuriating. rin would have said he hated it, but he was done pretending.

“i don’t know, itoshi. you are kind of emotionally constipated.”

“shut up,” rin quipped. then, he snaked your waist with his right arm as you walked side by side, pulling you closer. “and didn’t i tell you to call me rin?”

there was just mischief in your eyes when you answered, “yeah, but i like to get on your nerves.”

the male scoffed, still in disbelief with your antics.

“you’re a damn brat. i think you just want me to teach you my name tonight.”

rin could practically feel the heat on your face, and he smirked when he saw how red you were. god, you were so cute.

“at least take me to dinner first before we hate-fuck,” you still managed to joke, despite the slight shakiness in your voice. he rolled his eyes, and pulled you to a stop by the arm.

you both stood in the middle of campus, feeling the gentle caress of the breeze and listening to the birds chirping. it was a peaceful day, with the sun high up in the baby blue sky. rin thought there was no better time than at that moment.

his hand traced your arm until it reached your own, and he squeezed your fingers in reassurance.

“i don’t hate you,” he said again. “i just hate the way i don’t hate you. not even close. not even a little bit. not even at all.”

he watched your eyes light up and smile brighter than the sun, and he almost laughed at the disbelief in your voice.

“did you just quote ‘ten things i hate about you’?”

it was his time to flush. a small shrug was all rin answered with — he didn’t want you to know he specifically chose this sentence because that was your favorite movie. not like it mattered when you were gleaming at him and making his heart leap on his chest.

“well, then,” you squeezed his hand back, “let’s get coffee, rin.”

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evilminji · 9 months

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:T Hello there, Thought(tm) of the day...

I? Just remembered that Constantine's "Laughing Magician"(?) title is... f*ckin HEREDITARY?

Like?? As in The Constantine Meances have been out here, harrasing divinity and demons alike for GENERATIONS on behalf of a Good Time, the Lols, and probably Humanity if they can be arsed and you make a good case.

W... What chance would there even BE of at least like? HALF those f*ckers(conflicted but affectionate) NOT becoming Realms Ghosts? With the sh*t they're exposed too? With THEIR luck??

You think DEATH can trick them? Take them away for good? Take away the local Rat B@stard, Tricks Gods Just To See If He Can, Fate Is My Second Mistress and I Cuckold Glory On Your Mother's Bed, Constantine?

They run down main street, *ss in the breeze, wearing someone else's shirt and two shoes that don't match, not a stitch else, like run away lovers. Let Death TRY and catch them. Sorry, Luv, it's not them, it's definitely you.

..........I bet they're the wooooorst~~✨️

No joke, I bet they set up a whole *ss TOWN of Constantine.

Where the odds are in THEIR favor, gods fear to tread, and reality straight out stops working right. Like Diagonal Ally for B*stards, extended to a whole floating island. Everyone's related. It's Chaos. They can barely stand each other. Would sell each other for a toothpick.

Mess with ANY off them... and you can kiss your afterlife good bye.

They have NO neighbors because both no ones dumb enough to get NEAR them AND no one can stand to be around that many Constantines at once. The physical Manifestation of Fate wants to take the whole LOT of the handsy F*CKS to court for child support and a restraining order.

Somehow... they keep getting Earth Booze.

They SHOULDN'T have access. It's been anywhere from decade to centuries since they died. Millennium for a few. Howms't The F*CK, do they keep getting cheap gin and vodka? Bourbon and beer? Even the odd fruity cocktail for funnies.

Please... PLEASE! Tell the Zone at large, that their innate birthright powers STOPPED at Death. They... they are just REALLY good at smuggling right? Excellent con men?

Tell us they can't f*ckin PREDICT AND INFLUENCE Natural Portals!!!

*smug sipping noises from a large room full of Dead @ssholes*

Okay... They Won't Tell You~ 🍺🍺🍺🍺🍺 *siiiiiiiiiiiiiiiip*

Now! I hear you ask? Why are John's Terrible, Terrible, God Awful Ghostly Relatives relevant? Absurdly powerful as they are... they seem to take the afterlife as an extended "Ha! GET F*CKED, DEMONS WHO WANTED MY SOUL!" Vacation/Family get together.

Minded their business and expected everyone to mind THEIRS, or ELSE.

Didn't give two solitary SH*TS that Pariah woke from his little nappy-poo to cause a tantrum. After all, in their family? When DOESN'T some "great and terrible Power That Be" get itself in a snit? Meh... it's baby Johnny's turn to clean sh*t up. Best of luck to 'im~!

But THEN!

They must've been drinking... making out with their equally terrible and bamf trainwreck significant others... sitting around playing "who can cheat best at cards"... when? Huh.

Never seen the Fate and The Odds... STRANGLE like that.

Billions of billions of What-Ifs, Maybes, Could-bes, and more... suddenly YANKED towards a single spot. The allowance of Only One Outcome. Almost like what they can do, but... not, WRONG, per say...

Just... impossible.

There's NEVER.. JUST one way this plays out. You can control the big notes. The script. But the details and set dressing will always decide themselves.

NO ONE can just... Decide What Will Happen. And yet?

...............was....... was that Little Johnny? Has to be. Right? Where's his old man? Oi! Was that your Kid??! John's closest relatives are baffled. Nope. They can still feel him laying a beat down on some demon in Norway. So then? Who?

How?

Well mark them CURIOUS(tm).

They decide to actually get up. Put their various drinks and cards down. Put pants on. Somebody's done something... INTERESTING(TM) and they want to know what's up. So? Off they trot.

It's traumatizing for everyone who sees them. The Constantines have breached f*ckin B*stard Containment and are spilling into the Zone. On this! The DAY Pariah Waged A War! THEY JUST GOT RID OF HIM!

And Danny? His everything hurts. The Eyeballs are starting to come out of the woodwork and ARGUE about him like he's not even there. He's DANGEROUS blah blah blah. Give them the crown. Right now! Etc etc.

Somethings telling him not too.

It's... it's HIS isn't it? Has been for centuries and seconds. And... and... everyone one of him is King. There is only one of him. The Zone covers all the multiverse and all of the Hims that were and aren't here and helped and... and...! His head is starting to hurt.

But the more they try to push him to hand it over, the less he feels like unhanding the dang gaudy thing. No. His now. He'll use it as a DOOR stopper if he dang well feels like it! Stop yelling.

Then all these blonde ghosts saunter in... and all he can think is "F*ck. I think they noticed."

Huh?

@stealingyourbones @cyrwrites @bjurnberg @the-witchhunter @hdgnj

#dc prompt #dp x dc #dc x dp #danny phantom #john constantine

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weebsinstash · 3 months

Note

Hi I’ve been watching Hazbin Hotel and I found your blog which is amazing by the way , and I was wondering what are your thoughts on yandere Alastor ?

Thanks babe! ^^ so i was discussing this with someone recently and, to avoid doing that thing where I have too any concepts on the same post, I'm going to stick with a specific idea I've had of him recently which I will call "canon accurate yandere Alastor"

imma be honest and say this version would fucking suck depending on your preferences because he

-doesn't love you romantically and doesn't let YOU date

-doesn't wanna fuck you either AND DOESN'T LET YOU FUCK ANYONE ELSE EITHER

-probably does not consider you an equal by any means, like he considers you a good friend and you're charming and lovely and whatever, but he sees you like.... you'd be puking into a trashcan and he's the one holding your hair back, "now see my dear, this is why you shouldn't go out drinking without a proper escort~" like there's a vague layer of condescension and there's a huge massive power balance and experience balance between you two

Like. He's. He's kind of condescendingly cunty to you, he's vaguely looking at you with the energy of "MacKenzie oh my gosh MacKenzie you're so drunk, you're wasted, oh my god let me drive you home, no girl I'm taking your keys, you're too--" like do you get what I mean? He's a traditional gentleman and he comes along and uh, he thinks he sees this raw potential and charm inside of you that he thinks is being wasted by your modern lifestyle which can literally include

- your diet

-your tech use or what you use from day to day

- how you dress

-how you TALK

-how you spend your time

-who you hang out with

Just picture he meets you, you catch his eye, maybe you're at the hotel, and he's entertained by your sarcastic witty replies to his antics that maybe even get a chuckle out of him. You're a spitfire and he likes that!

.... and then the next time he sees you you're like vaping weed from a pen, looking at him with half lidded eyes, playing a game on your phone, too scattered to fully hold a conversation with him, to focus, to be as entertaining to him as before, and he's grinding the teeth in his smile, "oh no, this won't do at all", especially when he sees negative affects such maybe you're watching things he doesn't approve of or you're being harassed idk

I feel like since Alastor canonically drinks and is quite a heavyweight apparently, he wouldn't mind his darling drinking, but he would definitely control how much after a while. If you get too wasted in front of him too many times, he'll completely cut you off. Folks are you aware that getting too drunk can cause an alcohol induced panic attack that can literally take away your ability to move your hands and arms and make your mouth numb. I found this out recently :) whoops. And I feel like Alastor sees that shit and you'd have to EARN HIS TRUST for him to let you drink again and uh, I don't think that's possible

You're kind of like a bestie but you're also like a toy he's playing with and he doesn't like to share. He'll drag you away from doing other things with other people, especially if he doesn't approve of what you're doing and or with whom. He basically views you dating other people as lowering yourself to people who are beneath you and would only want you to give yourself to someone who deserves you, and he doesn't think ANYONE deserves you except him, and he DOESNT LIKE YOU THAT WAY so the man is just like FORCING CELIBACY ON YOU. Like have you ever seen videos of people taking their domesticated lovely groomed pets outdoors and like a stray or even wild animal version of it comes along to. Hump. And the owner is freaking out, "get the fuck AWAY I don't know where you've been" or at least Should? THAT'S Alastor watching 'other people trying to predate upon you' aka YOU trying to get laid or date

You'll be cooking something and he'll come up and try some without asking, "Hah! This is terrible!" and either watch you so he can tell you what he thinks you did wrong once the dish is finished or he takes over and asserts that he wants to show you to do it "the proper way!" and if you're female he potentially inserts a comment about how as a lovely lady you should know your way around a kitchen (in like a positive "I'll show you so you can know for yourself" way but like the underlying misogyny is there lol)

He'll take you out drinking and dancing but don't you dare let him catch you throwing it back or being mildly sexual, or he'll immediately tell you you've had too much to drink and take you home and you two spend the rest of the night like drinking tea listening to the radio, reading books, or watching old timey TV.

Lastly... I can absolutely see Alastor making some kind of deal with his darling for their soul. He CAN do that (and I think technically anyone in Hell can deal with souls, it's apparently part of the becoming an Overlord process). But I can just see him taking his darling's soul in exchange for anything, it might be really small, it might be really important, but he sees it as safeguarding your beautiful lovely little soul from anyone else who might take it. It truly is like THE HIGHEST FORM OF OWNING YOU, CONTROLLING YOU. It's all according to whatever is in the deal, but I'm sure there's other basic caveats you get... like him being able to summon you at will if you agree to it so he's randomly yanking you away from other people or tracking you when he doesn't know when you are.... or restraining you so you stop running away from him and running out on the town to act so... vulgar

#yandere hellaverse #yandere x reader #yandere hazbin hotel #alastor x reader #yandere alastor #hh #sinprompts #i miss using italics :( tumblr mobile has made using italics a nightmare

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hotchfiles · 3 months

Note

instead of hotch being protective what about bau!girly standing her ground when a reporter flirts with her man

you knew better than to be jealous. aaron was more than loyal to you, more than faithful, to betray, to cheat, those were not things even in his vocabulary, definitely not in his moral code. but the thing is, you weren't jealous, you were baffled, to say the least. just before the press conference the woman you had your eyes fiercely glued on right now saw aaron gripping on your waist and placing a kiss on your forehead as you wished him good luck. she knew.

she knew very well she wasn't flirting with a single man, and she proved it every time she touched his arm after the cameras shut off, her eyes betraying her as she looked at you for few seconds at a time.

aaron had already told her he was busy and needed to leave, but she was insisting on keeping the one sided conversation going, taking advantage of his politeness and the fact he couldn't be rude to news reporters, he couldn't misrepresent the fbi.

luckily. or unluckily for him, he decided to date someone not as preoccupied with the bureau's image, so after the second time he tried to leave and the reporter held him by the wrist, you stepped in, gently taking her hand from him.

"for a news reporter you're really slow on catching on, huh?" your voice and the smile you gave her sickly sweet, aaron giving you his best i'm still your boss do not do this look, even if he knew you well enough to see it was a lost cause.

"excuse me!?" her eyes finally gave attention to anyone else rather than hotchner, giving you her best offended expression. it was pitiful, to try and conceal her true intentions from an experienced profiler, really.

"sweetie, this man is not interested in you. and we have a job to do here, so get off of him, will ya? jesus." you shook your head at her, not giving her time to try anything else, pulling aaron with you by the end of the sleeve of his blazer.

in other occasions he might have apologized for your behavior, but he was indeed bothered and he wanted to leave just as much as you wanted to take him out of there. it was nice to be the protected one at times. and it was cute to see you jealous.

"what about the whole too mature to be jealous talk we had months ago?" he teases you, hugging you sideways.

"hotchner, don't try me, i could've arrested her, i was completely sane and controlled." you glanced up to him, met with his very known smile, lips lightly turned as he shook his head at you.

"arrested her in what grounds!?"

"trespassing federal property! i'm a federal agent and she was touching my property!" you're obviously making fun of the situation now, but your face looks dead serious and you're using your most threatening voice tone.

"terrible, awful, jealous thing you." aaron laughs and you mock his list of adjectives directed at you, he opens the door of the suv so you can get on the passenger seat, and he puts the seat belt on you, kissing you tenderly right after. "i love you."

"love you too."

#today you walk free from your crimes bc this was the PERFECT request jo #aaron x reader #aaron x you #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch x you #aaron hotch imagine #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner imagine #criminal minds x reader

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galamalion · 3 months

Text

꒰১໒꒱. 𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑

summary. you take zoro on a camping trip to relax; zoro finds other activities to partake in.

⤷ contents. afab!reader, fluff + smut, pet names (baby, babe, sweetheart, good girl), outdoor sex, light strength kink, light degradation, cunnilingus, hair pulling, light slapping (zoro slaps your ass/thighs) // wc. 1.5k

⤷ notes. request by @isapirata for camping and stargazing with zoro + a little bit of smut. hope you enjoy! hoping to pump out some works before my semester starts up <3

"I'm telling you right now, you're gonna enjoy it!"

"And I'm telling you, as long as I can shut my eyes without you pestering me, I'll love this trip."

"Oh, believe me, princess," you teased, hammering the stake into the ground, "you'll get all the beauty rest you need and more."

"Who you callin' princess, princess?" Zoro sneered, giving you a dirty look.

You stood, looking at the tent you single handedly pitched, "You're the one lazing about while I do all the work."

"It's called napping, sweetheart," Zoro rolled his eyes, "you want my help, just holler and your big strong boyfriend will be there."

"My hero," you scoffed, unpacking your gear in the tent.

You couldn't be too mad at Zoro for not helping. After all, he carried you up this gorgeous mountain so that you could go camping. If he wanted to sleep while you set everything up, he was more than welcome to. You would, however, be forcing him to roast marshmallows later. That was non negotiable.

“Would you mind getting some firewood at least, Zoro?” you peaked over your shoulder at the dozing swordsman. “It'd be good exercise.”

With a deep, displeased grumble, Zoro arose from beneath his shady tree, stomping away from your camping setup and into the nearby woods.

“Stay safe!” you called, giving him a small wave.

Zoro being gone allowed you to focus on other necessities, like digging out a spot for a small fire pit. You definitely weren’t as skilled as Franky, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t try your hand at crafting something. With the rudimentary skills of a novice craftsman, you laid a couple of sizable stones around your dug out hole, creating a misshapen circle that would make any child envious of your talents.

Occasional loud thumps in the distance kept you on your toes, clearly originating from Zoro taking your request a little too far. Part of you was scared to see how many tree trunks Zoro would return with, while the other part of you was excited to put him to work. Maybe you could fashion one into some kind of bench for the two of you? Of course, that was assuming that the tree trunk could withstand Zoro’s hulking frame. It’d be terribly unfortunate if it collapsed on the spot.

Moments later your boyfriend emerged from the woods with five massive trunks slung over his shoulder, balanced perfectly with the help of his huge bicep.

“Welcome back, handsome!” you cooed, skipping over to his side.

“Go back to your arts and crafts,” he grunted, continuing his stride towards your camp.

You gasped, “I came over here to help! How ungrateful!”

“What are you gonna do, help me carry these?” he gestured above his shoulder.

“I came to be a cheerleader, for your information. There’s no way in hell I can lift those over my shoulder like you can.”

“You couldn’t lift one, period.”

“I’m not fighting you on that.”

Upon your instruction, Zoro laid a single log near your amateur fire pit, setting the others aside. After removing his shirt, he began slicing them into smaller pieces, ripping the fragments in half to fit inside the pit. You thought about assisting him, but after considering the danger of splinters, decided against it.

“Hurry up, babe! It’s getting cold!” you shouted, searching for any available tinder to use in your fire.

“Quit yer’ bitchin’! I got your wood right here.” He stomped over beside you, tossing the wood into the fire pit.

“Thank you,” you emphasized, standing up to give him a hug. A grunt was all you got in response, but it was all you needed.

“C’mere, sweetheart,” Zoro whistled from his spot under the tree, arms folded behind his head.

“What? What do you mean ‘come here’?” you stared at him befuddled, “I just finished setting all this stuff up, and you just wanna sit on—”

“No complaints, ya brat,” he barked, moving a hand to pat his bare chest, signaling for you to come lay against it.

Annoyed, you stomped towards your boyfriend, sitting just a couple inches away from him in defiance.

“You really wanna play this game?” Zoro muttered, raising an eyebrow at your actions.

“What game?” you said, batting your eyelashes and flashing him a smile.

“Alright, fine,” Zoro whispered to himself, standing up from beneath the tree.

You just closed your eyes and rested your chin on your hand, quietly humming to yourself. It was somewhat of a surprise that Zoro gave up so easily, knowing that your boyfriend was stubborn to a fault. He stood up; was he really just gonna—

“Up we go,” Zoro huffed, easily slinging you over his shoulder and walking towards a clearer area.

“Hey, hold on!” you shrieked, flailing as he laid you down in the grass.

“Oh come on, baby,” he grinned, pulling your hips plush against his, “I think I’ve earned a little something for all my hard work tonight, and all you’ve done was whine.”

“Excuse me! I also worked hard tonight,” you scoffed, pushing your thighs close together, denying Zoro access to what he wanted most.

“Don’t be a tease,” he growled, sliding a calloused hand between your thighs. Zoro could effortlessly spread your legs faster than even you could open them, and both of you were aware of this. But what was the fun in just giving him what he wanted?

“Me? A tease? I think you’re just being a little unfair. You want a treat, so why can’t I also have one?”

“You’re really pushing my buttons here, babe.”

“I think you’ll get over it.”

“Fine,” he said, “you want a little reward, huh? Somethin’ sweet?”

Your legs were quickly pulled apart, Zoro’s hands quickly moving to cup your ass.

“Might as well get a little treat myself,” he hissed, yanking your panties down to your ankles.

“Wait!” you yelped, “take it slow!”

The pleas that left your lips fell on deaf ears as Zoro dove straight into his midnight snack, snaking his tongue across your folds and plunging it into your wet cunt. Your initial surprise wore off as soon as his tongue entered you, replaced with feelings of reluctant bliss and overpowering your other senses.

“So now the princess doesn’t want her reward?” he gasped, popping his mouth off your clit.

“S-Someone might hear us,” you sputtered, trying to not look at his mouth that was covered with your juices.

“Oh, come on. You’ve been a real brat today, ya know?” he groaned, giving your ass a hard slap. “Don’t go soft on me now, I know you can take it.”

He went back to his mission, between your legs in order to devour your sweet pussy. Every lick he made caused you to yank your pelvis away, but his tight hold on your hips kept you from escaping grasp, leaving you a pathetic, squirming mess.

“Right there, baby,” you moaned, gripping his hair and yanking him closer, “don’t stop!”

His hands moved in response to your request for more, sliding his rough hands up to your thighs and throwing them over his shoulders to delve deeper into your poor cunt.

It was overbearing, and you couldn’t decide which was worse—or in this case, better. The way he tongue-fucked you relentlessly, swirling around inside your walls, or the way he’d switch to sucking on your, now swollen, clit. All you could do was curl your toes and grasp at the sleeping bag beneath you, gasping for air as pleasure racked your body.

“Gonna cum, Zo!” you cried, crossing your legs tight around his head.

Zoro squeezed your thighs, lapping at your clit with his tongue as he sucked it for all it was worth, watching eagerly from below as you felt apart.

“Knew you could handle it, sweetheart,” he panted, giving your cunt one last lick before he easily escaped your weakened hold.

“W-What about yo-u!” you yelped as Zoro slapped your cunt, rising from his place beneath you.

“Believe me, I'll get my fill later," he grunted, bringing you up to lay against his chest, “we still have all of tomorrow, right?”

“I guess,” you mumbled, nuzzling into him and readjusting your clothes.

You looked up into the shimmering night sky, beholding the glittering stars above, scattered about their blackened canvas like grains of sand on a beach.

"You know anything about stars, Zo?" you asked.

"Not a damn thing."

“Well, that one,” you pointed, “is Ursa Major.”

“Hm?” Zoro questioned, looking up in the direction you pointed. “I don’t see anything.”

“Right there! Those are the feet, and that’s the tail, and that little sticky-outy-bit is the head!”

“I guess I kinda see it.”

“And that one is Ursa Minor, with the big long tail.”

“The hell? Are constellations having babies now? Didn’t know stars could fuck.”

“Be more romantic, Zoro,” you begged.

“The sky is Nami’s thing,” he frowned, “I’m not interested unless there’s one that I can fight. Or one shaped like a sword.”

You crossed your arms and pouted, leaning further into his chest.

“Well, aren’t the stars pretty, at least?”

“I guess,” he muttered, a grin rising to his face.zoro romance

“But I got the prettiest star of all, right?”

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appocalipse · 2 years

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Grand Gesture | eddie munson

summary: catching feelings for your best friend was never in your plans. when you start distancing yourself from him to protect your heart, eddie vows to do everything in his power to keep it forever.

“Come over for dinner tonight?” Eddie asks, trying to sound natural but maybe not being quite successful. “Wayne misses you, you know.”

It's a lie and he knows it — not that Wayne doesn't like you, far from it, but Eddie is painfully aware he's the one who misses you the most. He feels like a part of him is missing. His uncle, on the other hand, is a man of actions more than a man of words, and judging by the way he always ordered your favorite pizza flavor when you'd come visit Eddie, or how he'd give an understanding smile whenever Eddie did so much as mention your name, it was safe to say he considered you as much family as he did Eddie himself.

But that was before. Eddie now has to be quick if he wants to talk to you between classes. Most of the time you're no more than a blur to him — the ghost of his childhood best friend.

You look up at him very quickly — as if your eyes would burn if your gaze lingered too long, even — and you shove some books out of your backpack into the locker with little care. You smile, but Eddie knows all of your genuine smiles and this isn't one of them.

“Uh, well, I can't today,” you say. "Sorry."

"Tomorrow?"

"Busy too."

You seem to be calculating an escape route as you look down the hall. Eddie feels terribly pathetic when he asks again, "What about next week?"

“I have a test next week, I'll have to study.”

“Oh,” is all he manages to say.

Eddie doesn't remember any tests happening the following week. He twirls a ring around his finger nervously and tries to convince himself that it might be from a class of yours that he doesn't attend.

“Thanks for inviting me anyway," you close the locker and smile that same smile that doesn't quite reach your eyes. "Say hi to Wayne for me, okay?”

“...sure.”

You're leaving once more. Eddie feels panic rising in his throat, swallows hard, and says, before he can stop himself, "You're still going to The Hideout on Tuesday, right?"

Tuesday. It was something you and him had agreed on a while ago; Corroded Coffin played at The Hideout every Tuesday and most Tuesdays you'd go see them, but if you couldn't make it every time, the deal was that you'd go at least once a month. And you hadn't been there for the last three Tuesdays, which made this your last chance to keep your promise.

You look over your shoulder at Eddie, saying, "I'll try." And wave before rushing off to your next class without looking back.

He immediately knows you won't come; it's remarkable how much distance you've managed to put between the two of you in such a short amount of time.

On the other hand, you know you can't go to The Hideout on Tuesday.

Not because you have an appointment you can't reschedule or because you've already made plans you don't want to miss…but because being in love with your best friend feels awfully like getting a thorn into your foot. You could go weeks without seeing him, slowly forgetting the thorn was there…and then you'd just spend 2 minutes with Eddie and the damn thing would re-enter your skin three times deeper.

So no, you can't go to The Hideout on Tuesday, you decide. Watching Eddie play guitar wouldn't do you any good.

And you don't go. Not this Tuesday, not the next, not the one after that. Time goes by too fast but somehow the days seem to drag on terribly. And then days become weeks, weeks become months. Well, month, singular, but Eddie feels like he's lived a lifetime during the time you're not talking to him. It certainly feels like months.

36 days. Not that the two of you are counting. Definitely not.

Eddie is sitting on his throne in the middle of a Hellfire session, babbling his lines and running the campaign almost robotically, when he thinks of you again. The Eddie from before, the Eddie who still had you in his life, would have been ecstatic as he awaited the day to share this campaign with his little sheep around this very table. Now he's having trouble keeping track of what's going on.

He remembers the general idea; a curse, some monsters, an object capable of saving the world that lies in the power of a female elf the party has to find and convince to help. Yada, yada.

It's the third time he's lost himself inside his own head.

"Dude!"

Eddie looks at Dustin as if he's just been slapped. "What?"

“You're being ridiculous. Just talk to her."

"How dare you-"

Dustin realizes Eddie is about to go on a rant about getting out of character mid-session. He's not sure where all this courage is coming from (maybe it comes from the fact that he really cares about his Dungeon Master's happiness) but Dustin reaches out and lowers the screen in front of Eddie.

“You gotta go find your elf, man,” he says, encouraged by the murmurs of agreement rising from the others in the room. "Like, right now. Looks like your world is coming to an end.”

Eddie has an answer on the tip of his tongue as he looks from face to face and back to Dustin's.

"I'm the Dungeon Master here, Henderson." He doesn't care if he sounds defensive or silly or if the other boys will realize he's purposely pretending not to understand what his friend means. He doesn't care in the least.

“Oh, for God's sake,” insists Dustin, apparently the group's representative now that the subject is Eddie's personal life. "You know very well I'm talking about her."

Eddie makes a move to lift the dungeon master screen once again in hopes of ending the conversation. Dustin pulls it out of his grasp with little care.

"I have no idea what the hell you're talking about."

“You should go after her, man,” suggests Lucas, very quietly.

“Yeah,” Mike agrees, working up the courage to say something when Eddie doesn't say anything. “Believe me, it took some time to figure out my feelings for El, too. But at least I got it at some point, you know.”

“A grand gesture is what you need,” Lucas adds with newfound confidence. "It's what I do when Max doesn't want to talk to me."

He cowers slightly when Eddie looks at him, an appraising brow raised. Dustin is nodding his head emphatically in agreement, though.

“We want our Dungeon Master back,” Gareth says, trying to lighten the mood.

There is a silence that seems to last for years. Then, not quite realizing what he's doing, Eddie stands up, nearly toppling his throne in the process, and pretty much jumps toward the door.

Behind him, the boys shout words of encouragement and whistle with exaggerated excitement.

Grand gesture, huh?

"You should ask Eddie to go to the movies with you."

"Mom," you scold for what feels like the hundredth time tonight, helping her into her coat.

"I just don't like leaving you home alone."

"I'll be fine. I'm practically an adult now."

Of course, you are. The discussion is not about that and you know it. She knows it. But none of you say anything. This conversation has played out several times in many different ways over the past thirty days, and it doesn't look like she's going to stop insisting anytime soon.

Your mother gives you her best puppy dog eyes. "Are you really going to be okay?"

"Yes, yes!" You emphasize, gently pushing her out the front door and smiling as convincingly as you can. "I swear I will. Now go have fun!"

She smiles and kisses the top of your head affectionately.

"Lock the door behind me, okay?"

You do. But you might as well have left the damn thing open, because two minutes after you lock it and just a second after you sit down on the couch, you hear a knock.

You run to the door, key in hand.

"Mom, did you forget something agai-"

But it's not your mom.

"Eddie," you mumble, voice barely a whisper.

It shouldn't be possible, but he's right there in front of you, hands in his pockets as he looks at your face with a nervous smile.

"Hi," he says, voice husky and warm just as you remember.

You feel like your heart is about to find its way out of your rib cage somehow.

Clearing your throat, you finally find your voice. "Aren't you supposed to be at Hellfire?" you ask.

"I left halfway through the session," he says, as if that explains everything. Eddie Ditching Hellfire? When you don't say anything else, standing there looking like you want to slam the door in his face, Eddie quickly adds, "Can I come in?"

"I don't think it's a good idea."

"We need to talk."

"It's not a good time," you say without looking at him, a little upset because, damn, how are you supposed to forget a guy who keeps showing up?

You start to close the door slowly, almost without realizing you're doing it.

Eddie puts his foot in the gap to stop you.

"Please," he begs. "Ten minutes?"

No, no, no. Say no.

Cursing inwardly, you step back and let him in. "Five."

You gesture for him to sit around the small kitchen table and lean against the counter, keeping a safe distance from him, your arms crossed tightly in front of your chest.

You ask him if he'd like something to eat or drink and he denies, hating how he's become a guest at your place, an outsider, someone you no longer have that familiar intimacy with.

You're staring at the floor like it's the most interesting thing you'd ever laid eyes on. "What did you want to talk about?" you ask.

Eddie places both hands on the table, twirling the rings around his fingers anxiously.

"I want…I need to…." he licks his lips and looks at your face, trying to turn thoughts into words and not understanding why it's suddenly so difficult to do so. "Why do you suddenly hate me?"

You can't say you didn't expect to hear a question like this at some point. That doesn't mean you don't get slightly lost when you actually hear it, though.

"I don't hate you, Eddie."

"You didn't talk to me in weeks, you didn't come to see my band," he holds up a finger as he points out each of your actions, "you run the other way whenever you see me in the school hallways…"

His gaze diverts to the space beside you.

“Christ, you even ripped our picture out of your fridge, apparently,” he lets out a completely humorless chuckle, a hint of sadness behind the irony you know all too well.

You look into the empty space he's indicating and suddenly feel guilty. A picture of the two of you the first night Eddie played at the Hideout with the band used to be there.

"I don't hate you," you repeat, silly. "I'd never hate you."

"You don't even look at me."

"Of course I do." You weren't looking until now, but you force yourself to do so even though it's hard. There's something very intimate about looking Eddie in the eyes, you think, something awfully familiar. "I'm looking at you right now."

"Yeah. For 2 seconds, I bet."

You shift your weight from one foot to the other, take a deep breath, and try to keep your thoughts clear.

"Did you come all the way here to tell me to look at you?"

"No," he says. "I came all the way here to say I miss you."

A very long time passes without you saying anything, your chest rising and falling faster than usual. Eddie realizes he's surprised you.

A spark of happiness you shouldn't feel warms your heart. You try to smother it.

In a small voice, he insists, "Don't you miss me?"

Your heart screams yes, but you don't say anything. Eddie stands up, the sound of the chair scraping against the floor sounding alarming to your ears.

“We've been friends for…what? Twelve years? And you're going to tell me that you've simply decided that you don't like my company now?”

“Eddie,” you finally say. "Stop."

You uncross your arms, using your hands to lean against the kitchen counter behind you instead, fighting the urge to run. Whether in Eddie's direction or the opposite, you're still unsure.

"Why? So you can go back to erasing me from your life again without saying anything?” he asks, putting the chair back in place before moving towards you. “You can say it to my face, then. Say you hate me.”

"I don't hate you."

"You certainly don't like me."

"I-"

“Or think of me.”

“I never said-”

"If you tell me to leave now, I swear I will and I won't come back," he promises and you know it's true. But then, slower, lighter, almost whispering, he adds, “…but that's not what I want.”

You should tell him to go away, to leave. You know he won't give up if you don't tell him to do so, but you can't bring yourself to be cruel to him, not even to protect your own heart.

So instead, the spark of hope becomes a flame inside your chest and you find yourself asking, “And what do you want?”

For a good five seconds, Eddie looks at you like he's facing a crossroads. Then he comes closer and places his hands over yours, one on either side of you, any definition of personal space momentarily forgotten as he moves his face closer to yours.

“I want…,” he begins, and it's thanks to the way you can feel each word that leaves his lips that you're made aware of how close you are, that you're between him and the kitchen counter. That he's about to kiss you. “I want to-”

His forehead rests against yours, his eyes slowly fluttering closed. The words he wants to say never make it past his mouth.

He is about to kiss you, right?

“Eddie-”

Eddie leans back just enough to consider the expression on your face, eyes big and brown and warm.

"You want me to go?" he whispers.

“No,” you're not surprised at how quickly you respond. Your hand slips from under his to brush a dark curl out of his eyes. "I broke our promise, though."

"It's okay."

He leans in. You feel his lips at the corner of your mouth and let out a sigh. "I'm sorry. I'll go to every single one of your gigs from now on-"

“Please,” he begs, a distinct hint of affection behind his words. "Stop talking."

"What you're doing?"

His upper lip touches yours. You can feel his reluctant smile when he says, “A grand gesture, I hope.”

And then, Eddie closes the gap — your breath catches the very moment his mouth meets yours, his kiss gentle, slow, a step too big to be taken all at once. He leans in and you feel his chest against yours, one hand sliding to the small of your back and pressing you even closer, another moving up your arm, over your shoulder, to the crook of your neck and your jaw. He holds your face and you sigh against his mouth, your lips parted invitation enough for him to deepen the kiss.

And God, being kissed like this does feel like a grand gesture.

He tastes exactly like you thought he would and somehow entirely different at the same time — something familiar, something safe, but also something new and fiery and wonderful.

You're breathing heavily — Eddie not much different — when he finally breaks the kiss, resting his forehead against yours, eyes still closed.

“Tell me to stay,” he whispers. In the silence of the empty house, it's more than enough. “Please tell me you want me to stay, sweetheart, 'cause I have no fucking idea how to stay away from you.”

You're still coming to your senses, all too aware of the hand he keeps tightly on your waist, of the gentle movement of his calloused thumb against your cheek.

You wrap your arms around his neck and smile the most genuine smile he's ever seen on your face.

“As if I’d ever let you go after this, Munson.”

#eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fluff #eddie x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #stranger things #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson x female reader

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waldau · 3 months

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put a ring on it — lee jihoon | 1,236 words | fluff, hurt/comfort

can y'all tell i love this man a bit too much? like, this is way too sappy even by my standards. inspired by me forgetting my ring one morning and feeling extremely uncomfortable without it.

gender neutral reader. warnings: one gross(ish) fact about the human body.

jihoon’s not going to make a big deal out of this. he’s not going to make a deal out of this on any scale. not when this is the first proper date you’ve been on in almost a whole month.

it’s his fault, definitely, what with managing making songs and practicing for their comeback and being unable to sleep because of all the ideas buzzing around in his head. it went on till bumzu forced him out of the studio and made him take some time off for you, if not for his own sake.

oddly, the date’s going well. you look amazing, the food’s great, and he’s feeling more relaxed than he has in a while, all thoughts of deadlines pushed back because he’s worked enough to take on new projects.

jihoon knows he’s still not the best with being affectionate with you, and doesn’t match up to the way you’re so casually affectionate with him, despite how much he wants to be.

but it’s not so bad that you’d just stop wearing your promise ring, is it?

you’d been ecstatic when he’d first given it to you, pointing out how much he’d been blushing and how shy he’d been to tell you what it meant to him, and for the two of you, but now your hand looks bare without it. it looks wrong.

to make things worse, you don’t even seem mad with him. you’re talking to him like you normally do, asking him about his work and how all his friends are, telling him about how your day’s been. any other day, he’d love to listen fully to everything you have to say, but today it feels like your words are flowing in through one ear and leaving through the other.

you’ve both neared the end of your meal, and you still haven’t brought up why you’re not wearing the ring. jihoon’s sure he’s beginning to feel sick. did you just forget it after all these months of wearing it? is this your way of telling him that you’re done, you’re moving on, you have better things to spend your time on?

“do you want to go for a walk?” he asks, almost out of breath, when you finish telling him about a new movie you watched with your friends last week.

“what?”

“right now. it’s been a while since we’ve spent time together like this, and i just…don’t want it to end. if that's okay?”

you give him an apologetic smile. “i’m really tired today, hoonie. just want to go home and cuddle with you.”

ouch. okay. at least you didn’t turn him down entirely. and called his place home.

but the doubt doesn’t go away even when you’re in the car with him, singing to songs on the radio while you drive, laughing at how terrible your own voice is. any other day, jihoon would join in to tease your voice, but he doesn’t have the courage to do it right now. he watches you and thinks about what to do next, and more importantly why you’re not bringing it up.

you go into the bathroom first to take a shower, and come out wearing your sweatpants and one of his shirts. but your hand is still empty.

jihoon can’t take it anymore. he turns around resolutely to avoid facing you, trying to shut his mind before he says something stupid. the bed dips on your side and he knows you’ve turned to face him.

“hoonie?” you ask softly. “everything okay?”

“yeah,” he says, burrowing his face deeper into his pillow.

"are you sure?"

jihoon shrugs.

“okay, can i just…” you wrap an arm around his waist so your face rests in his neck, and he instantly relaxes against you. “tell me if this is too much.”

“not too much.”

you just stay together in silence for a while, jihoon just taking in your presence. it’s crazy how he doesn’t take more days off when it’s you he gets to come home to.

“did you know?” you ask, your words laced with a tone he's come to learn indicates you’re up to some mischief.

he shakes his head.

“earwax is a type of human sweat.”

jihoon’s broken out of his thoughts at that, turning to face you with an expression he hopes conveys disgust. you laugh loudly, poking his cheek.

“that’s what you wanted me to know?”

“just wanted to make you react somehow. tell me, what’s wrong?”

he shakes his head. “it’s nothing. i got over it.”

“i’ll believe that when you come crawling to me for cuddles.”

jihoon glares at you. “i don’t crawl.”

“but you haven’t asked me yet, so…”

jihoon knows he’s not going to get out of this, and it’s for the best if he doesn’t. “you didn’t wear your ring today.”

“i…what?”

he knows he’s being shifty. “it’s just…you weren’t wearing your ring when we went out for our date tonight. and you didn’t wear it after your shower, either.”

“i didn’t think you’d notice,” you say.

he sighs. “i’m not…i know i’m not very physically affectionate, and this ring is my way of reminding you i’m always there. for you. so i just felt…you know.”

you shake your head and the next thing he knows, he’s being pinned to the bed while you straddle his waist, giving him a stern look.

“lee jihoon.”

“oh, no.”

“how long have we been together for now?”

“um…a year?”

“are you asking me, or are you telling me that?”

“telling. one year.”

“have i ever once hinted at wanting to break up with you for whatever reason?”

“…no.”

you show him your hand. it’s bare, but when he looks closer, he realizes there’s a skin-coloured band-aid taking the exact place of your ring.

“what…”

“little accident when i was cutting an apple for myself. it’s nothing. i’ve been wearing my ring the way you do,” you say, tugging at your chain you’ve been wearing all evening long. it’s only then that he sees his ring sitting on it like it’s always belonged there.

“i love it just as much as you do, hoonie. of course i want it with me all the time. besides, i told you you’re stuck with me forever, didn’t i?”

jihoon can’t stop smiling like an idiot. when you first met and fell in love, it was new to him, because the love he’d written about in his songs was nothing like what he felt for you. if his songs were two dimensional, loving you and being loved by you was four dimensional.

not to mention all the songs you've inspired him to write about you, songs you get to listen to when you're in his studio, on his lap. just his whole world in one room.

he’s been working to keep that feeling between you both every single day, given he used to wonder how you’d ever understand and accept the part of his life that was music. but you have. and it’s been a whole year since you changed his perception about love.

on a whim, he tugs you down by your chain to press a kiss to your lips, and it ends up with you sprawled on top of him, laughing into his neck. just a year ago, he wouldn’t even have imagined this, but now, it feels right.

because it’s you.

taglist: @bookyeom

#woozi 😭💞#also rip to my most uninspired title ever i gave up on finding a good one #lee jihoon #lee jihoon fluff #seventeen #seventeen fluff #svt #svt fluff #woozi #woozi fluff #fluff #waldau writes

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