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monster-disaster · 5 months

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Can you do a female demon x female reader? I need more lesbian monster content !!!!

demon!female x human!Reader Good to know: smut

Summary: You meet an ex-classmate from college for an interview. She has other plans.

You can feel your professionalism slipping through your fingers with each passing second you spend in the female demon's presence.

The fragrance of her perfume fills your senses when Ada comes closer, sitting down on the armrest of the sofa. She leans against your side while gently holding your arm and caressing your skin with her freshly painted nails. The teasing touch sends shivers through your body.

"Your pictures don't give you enough justice," she says. "You are much prettier in real life."

Your voice gets stuck in your throat. "Oh?"

The woman hums, leaning closer. "I follow you on Instagram." Her plump lips ghost over the curve of your neck. "You are the sweetest in your colorful summer dresses."

"Thanks," you croak out, almost sounding like a question. Heat burns under your skin while your heart pounds in your chest.

"I hoped you would wear one of them today."

"I'm sorry?"

"It's fine," she chuckles, looking over your form shamelessly. You wear a white blouse with a dark blue skirt that reaches your knees and matches your high heels.

Standing up from the armrest, Ada moves in front of you. You feel cold without her firm body pressing against your side.

You watch her, mesmerized and breathless. "What are you doing?"

A slow grin pulls on her vivid red lips as she slips onto her knees. Your thighs clench at the sight of the woman.

Ironically, there is something ethereal about her. Perhaps it's the smoothness of her light pink skin or the gentle curls of her dark hair framing her horns, which are a few shades darker and gracefully trace the curve of her head. You can't be sure since there is so much you can admire about her. Your heart skips a beat as your eyes follow the straight slope of her nose and the firm curve of her full lips.

"Something I wanted to do since we met in college."

You can feel the warmth of her palms even through the thin fabric of your skirt as she rests them on your knees. Your muscles tense for a second when the beautiful demon pushes them apart while your mind struggles with keeping up with the woman. Her hands trail up on your legs, pushing your clothes up with the slow but confident motion.

Ada looks up at you with amusement in her eyes. "Did you know I liked you back then?"

You shake your head. You had no idea. The demon wasn't a mean girl by any means, but she was always... unreachable. Sometimes, you weren't even sure if she knew about your existence even though you spoke several times.

"I'm surprised," she chuckles.

By now, your thighs are bare under her caressing hands. Her thumbs move between your legs in slow circles, getting closer and closer to your panty-clad pussy.

"Why?" You ask. You sank deeper into the sofa without your noticing. You melt under her touch.

"All my friends knew about my crush on you."

You want to slap yourself across the face when the only reply you can force out of your mouth is an 'oh' and Ada laughs again, slipping her long, manicured finger under the damp fabric of your panties to pull it away.

"It's fine, though," she says. "I mean, this is my chance to make up for the lost time."

Your mind is blank as you try and fail to process everything. Your whole body is on edge with anticipation. There is a heavy knot in your belly, keeping you on the sofa, compliant and easy under Ada's attention.

"And it's definitely worth the wait," she grins, letting the tip of her thumb brush over your clit for a second. Just enough to take your breath away and send shivers down your spine.

"Really?" You gasp out, holding onto the leather of the sofa. Your nails dig into it, and you only hope you don't damage the fabric.

She hums, leaning closer. Her shoulders spread your legs apart even more.

When you woke up and got ready to do an interview with your old classmate about her successful company, you didn't think you would end up like this. Half-naked and wet in her office while she feasts on the sight of you.

"So pretty," she says, letting her finger slide over your wet slit once again, parting your lips in the process to get a better view of your soft, glistening center. "And smells so good."

Your mouth opens to say something, but before you can form words, the demon grabs the flesh of your thighs to tug you to the edge of the seat.

"Hold them for me," she says, holding up your legs until you reach behind your knees to do as she says.

Heat and embarrassment flood your whole body in the new, vulnerable position.

"Good," she hums, reaching under you with one hand to grope your bottom while her other hand keeps your panties out of the way.

You watch Ada transfixed as she leans down and licks your pussy with one long swipe. Her eyes are on you the whole time, staring at your unfocused eyes, open lips, and heaving chest. The demon's mouth moves up to your clit, flicking it with her tongue before sucking the sensitive bud into her mouth. Her cheeks hollow, and your back arches. Your legs almost slip out of your hold as your toes curl with pleasure.

"Ada." Her name escapes your lips as a moan, and she hums, satisfied.

"You taste so good, Y/N," she says. Her lips and chin shine because of your wetness. "I imagined being between your legs so many times since you called to get an appointment with me."

"Really?" You gasp out, her thumb works on your clit, not giving you any break even while she talks.

You called her because of the interview a week ago.

"Really," she replies. "I was so angry when I couldn't find a date sooner to meet you."

"It's fine," you gasp. Your hips grind up against her hand. Her fingers are soaked with your juices by now.

The female chuckles. "It is now."

She winks at you before lowering her face down back to your pussy, opening your lips to feast and slurp on you. Her finger doesn't stop on your clit while your climax builds inside you with each passing second.

"I'm almost there," you groan, closing your eyes.

Ada hums. The vibration of her reply rolls through your body in thick weaves. You moan and gush around her tongue that slipped inside your aching hole while you were busy chasing your pleasure under her caress.

Ada's tongue fucks your pussy while teasing your clit and making you see stars under your closed eyelids. Your orgasm ripples and trembles through you while your muscles jerk and twitch, and your nails dig into your own skin at the curve of your knees.

For long seconds, the world stops existing while you sag into the sofa, and the woman still between your legs cleans you up with long swipes. Every touch and lick of her tongue on your sensitive flesh makes you twitch and shake.

When you lift your head to look at her, she grins at you hungrily. "We can start the interview now."

- Masterlist Sweet Asks Patreon

#monster romance #monster x human #monster x reader #monster smut #terat0philliac #exophelia #sweet asks #demon x reader #demon girlfriend #monster girlfriend #demon x human #demon smut

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fandomnerd9602 · 3 days

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Night Swim (🌶️)

Bambi!Wanda x Reader

You had just put the twins to bed. Another perfect day with your doe mate/wife Wanda and the twins Billy and Tommy. You couldn’t ask for a better life.

You walked into the living room and found your mate in question outside, sitting by the edge of your pool. In truth, it was almost time to have it drained. Summer was ending and fall was coming, but it was still nice and the water was just the right temperature.

You walked out and sat next to Wanda, who happily greeted you with a smile and a little kiss.

“The boys?” She asks.

“Asleep. What’s going on in that beautiful mind of yours?”

She takes a deep breath, “I keep fearing I’m gonna wake up and find out this life with you is just a dream”

“Same here.” You pull her into a hug, kissing the top of her hairline, her antlers were just beginning to peak out again.

“Wanna go for a little night swim, detka?” She asks you, her voice laced with hints of mischief.

“I don’t have my swim wear,” you replied.

Your amazing doe simply stood up, her eyes locked on you. She began unbuttoning her blouse before letting the silky fabric fall away from her shoulders.

“Neither do I,” she whispered seductively. How could you say no to her?

You got up and stripped off your own shirt, your mate admiring your body as you do.

She jumps in the water and so do you. The two of you swim and splash around for a couple minutes, feeling like two teens in love and enjoying the time you have together. To be free as young lovers again.

Wanda turned away from you, gently combing her hair to be behind her ears. Your eyes wander below the surface of the water to her cute little deer tail. It was so perfect, the fur on it was the same reddish brunette color as her hair.

You couldn’t help yourself. You reach forward and gently pull on her cute little tail. Wanda lets out a big moan and then yelps a little bit, it was a pretty cute yelp too.

“Detka!” She giggles, playfully splashing you in retaliation.

You couldn’t help but chuckle, “sorry that tail of yours is just so cute. And so is your yelp.”

“You’re terrible” she giggles. She drifts up to you, her nymph like eyes drawing you in. She was your goddess and you were her consort. A forest queen who found her love in a knight, well that’s the way she tells it.

She kisses you softly. Little moans escape her lips. The gentle lull of the water heightens each little kiss. She takes your bottom lip in her mouth, gently sucking on it. Your doe knows what that does to you.

Her nimble fingers teased your underpants beneath the gentle waves of the water.

“Wanda,” you tried to maintain some composure, “here? really?”

“Why not?” Her only response. Your doe like goddess gently pulled you as she backed herself against the concrete wall of the pool.

“My strong buck” she growled, her eyes darkened with intent. One of her hands caressed your face before pulling you into a fiery kiss. Her other arm wrapped around your neck.

“I love you, detka” she giggles and purrs against your lips.

“I love you more than anything, my doe” you moan back. You balance yourself, holding onto the edges of the pool.

“Show me,” she sucks on your ear, gently nipping your neck.

You kiss her lips and then her jaw, making your way to the pinpoint area of her neck. Your doe moans, purring like a happy lioness.

“Detka” she growls, her hands make quick work of removing both yours and her underwear, letting them float to the top of the water and away from you.

She wraps one of her legs around your waist, pulling you in tight as the row of you become lost in one another, lost in your own rhythmic dance of love. Each give and take, each motion, each swirl of your finger to the areas you know to make her sigh.

Your grip tightens to the edge of your pool. Her grip tighten to your back. Her breathing became ragged and desperate, building higher and higher until-

“Detka!!!” She screamed aloud. Her mouth forming a perfect round shape, trying to catch her breath as your own eyes shut tight as waves of pleasure passed over you both.

So perfect in its execution, so heavenly.

Your doe was catching her breath as you were catching yours. You could only look at one another adoringly, sharing this infinite moment together. Your hearts beating as one to the lulling, drifting motion of the pool.

You picked up your bride and carried her to your poolside couples chair. You spent the next twenty or so minutes cuddled up with her, skin to skin, basking in the glow of each other. The love, the safety, the adoration found in each other with only a large pool blanket to cover you both.

Wanda kisses you softly and nuzzles you. A gentle purr of satisfaction escapes her lips, followed by a little giggle.

“What?” You ask, a laugh escaping your own lips.

“This is the one time I’m glad we don’t have neighbors.” She responds with a little smirk.

The two of you share a laugh. Your mate, your doe, your wife, what would you ever do without her?

Tags @lifespectator @olsenmyolsen @softlymaximoff @julieromanoff @supercorpdanbeau @scarletquake-n7 @aloneodi @pinklawyerwinnerzonk @texaswolf23 @russianredassassin @revanshand @multi-fandom-enjoyer

#marvel #marvel fluff #marvel imagine #mcu #mcu imagine #mcu fandom #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff fluff #bambi #Bambi Wanda #animal hybrid

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marzipanandminutiae · 4 months

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something something aging userbase but I just discovered that pre-treating with Dawn dish soap before washing gets out avobenzone stains (sunscreen ingredient; leaves yellow or rust-colored stain on white clothing) WONDERFULLY

stain-free antique Edwardian summer blouse, here I come

#personal #historical fashion #life hacks #historybounding #a friend's mom gave it to me right after the fire. it was VERY kind of her

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eroselless · 1 month

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─────────────── sommer house // 2

series summary: After starting a new job at a prestigious museum in London, you form a close friendship with Helaena Targaryen. You're surprised when she invites you to stay at her family's estate for the summer holidays. [2.7k]

[aegon targaryen x reader, modern!HOTD AU ]

masterlist | previously

warnings: none, i think!

note: i'm so sorry it took me a little bit to get this out. i've been prepping for a big trip coming up soon, my head has been a little everywhere recently. anyways, hope you guys enjoy!

The rain that had accompanied you on the way out of London had ceased by the time you arrived at the Targaryen estate. The sun was dipping under the horizon, painting the sky in a soft orange and pink hue. The windows are still streaked with rain as you push off the plush seat and step out of the car. You stretch your arms above your head, loosening the muscles tightened by the long drive.

Taking a deep breath, your eyes scan the scenery before you. The stone walls of the house seem to grow from the landscape, it’s garbled roof echoing a serene, timeless elegance. Tall trees and lush greenery frame the manor, flowers blooming in vibrant bursts along the pathway to the house. The silence is tranquil, punctuated only by the occasional wail of a passing bird.

With your bags taken by a man who introduced himself as Criston, you begin to follow Helaena up the gravel path. Her steps fall softly as she leads the way. The look in her face is soft and gentle, hiding much behind her eyes. The more you look at the manor, the more it resembles an enlarged and elevated cottage or even a mix between a cottage and a castle, if such a thing existed—homey, alluring, and comfortable.

You enter the home, the air thick with the scent of polished wood and old books, a familiar scent you learned to love during your time at the museum. You continue to follow Helaena through the foyer and into the living room, your footsteps muffled by thick rugs lined with intricate patterns. The room is open, the dimming sunlight streaming through a set of two large windows. A grand piano sits in a corner, scraps of paper tucked away in a book on the windowsill next to it. A large collection of books fill the shelves spanning an entire wall. Swords, small statues and animal skeletons are scattered around the room and hanging on the walls. There’s even a collection of insects pinned in frames, butterflies of all colors and sizes.

The room is empty save for a silhouette sitting at one of the windows. It overlooks the vast ground of the estate, eyes watching two figures as they lounge outside by a small lake just beyond and below the window.

“Mum,” Helaena calls out, wrapping her knuckles against the doorframe where the two of you have stopped. The woman takes her eyes away from the window, taking in a sharp breath before turning to you, a wide smile on her face.

“Hel,” she calls her, pulling her daughter into her arms, hands caressing Helaena’s hair. Helaena hesitates momentarily before wrapping her arms around her mother. As you watch them, you notice how different they are from each other. If you hadn’t been told before, you would've never known they were mother and daughter. Helaena wore a cerulean sweater with gray trousers, her blonde hair cropped just above her shoulders. Alicent, on the other hand, wore a deep green blouse with brown trousers, her hair pulled away from her face but cascading in long tresses down her back.

Helaena pulls away from her mother, gesturing toward you. “Mum, this is Y/N,”

Alicent meets your eyes, introducing herself. Before you can reach out a hand for a shake, she pulls you into a hug just as she had her own daughter.

She pulls back, hands gently gripping your biceps. “It’s lovely to finally meet you. Helaena’s told me so much about you,” she says, her voice filled with genuine warmth. “Welcome to our humble home.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Targaryen,” you say, smiling.

“Please, call me Alicent. I insist.” Her smile broadens. “Come, let me show you to your room,” she says, guiding you through the elegantly decorated hallways.

The faces in each portrait seem to follow you as you pass, their eyes windows into the past lives that once filled these halls. It sends a soft chill up your spine. But you can’t help but marvel at the grandeur around you – it’s as if you’ve stepped onto a movie set, a dream.

Alicent stops in front of a door and pushes it open. The room is immense, its pale blue walls bathed in the warm glow of the setting sun streaming through a large window. “This will be your room,” she gestures. “Helaena’s old room is just next door. There’s a bathroom that connects the two, but you’ll have plenty of space.”

You step into the room, immediately taken by its charm. The plush bed is adorned with soft pillows, the rugs underfoot are invitingly soft, and tasteful art hangs on the walls, adding a touch of elegance.

“This is beautiful,” you say, spotting your suitcases left at the foot of the bed. “Thank you so much, Alicent.”

Wandering into the bathroom, you’re greeted by a large bathtub that sits in front of an even larger window. On one side of the room are a pair of sinks; on the other, a spacious shower. Setting your things down at one sink, you peer out the window, the soft light peeking in as the sun continues to dip further down the sky. It casts shadows over the grounds. You can see the back of the estate, the sprawling gardens, and the lake.

“Make yourself at home. If you need anything, just let me know,” Alicent says. She bids you goodbye and withdraws from the room, reminding you that dinner will be in about an hour.

Leaving you alone, you sink into the lavish plush armchair, feeling completely at home. Your eyes peer out the window, every time finding something new to look at. In the distance, you can see stables and what looks like an old church with people pouring out. There’s a treeline just beyond the property that looks like it goes on for miles. Getting lost trying to find the end of the forest, your eyes begin to feel heavy and you find yourself drifting off.

:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

It's not until a while later you hear your name called softly from the doorway. Shifting out of your relaxed stupor, you rub the sleep out of your eyes and spot your blonde haired friend peeking at you from the doorway, a gentle smile on her lips. She raises her eyebrows at you and you shove her shoulder with yours before following her down the grand staircase. As you descend, the scent of roasted vegetables and freshly baked bread wafts through the air, making your stomach tinge in anticipation.

The dining room is abuzz with activity as the Targaryen family gathers. The two men you saw outside earlier, Helaena’s brothers, stand at the entrance of the dining room, conversing quietly. Aemond and Daeron stand taller than you, both offering you polite smiles. There's a hint of reserve in their eyes, making the nerves in your veins accelerate a little more.

You’re surprised at how similar yet so different they are from each other. Both share a sharp chin and lanky limbs long and lean. Their clothes contrast each other in style but compliment their individual characteristics. Their hair is a pale blonde like Helaena’s – Aemond’s long locks flowing down his back, while Daeron’s is cropped short above his ears.

“Welcome,” Aemond says, his voice smooth and measured. He extends a hand, and you shake it, noting the firm yet gentle grip.

“Good to see you,” Daeron adds, his smile a touch warmer than his brother’s. “We’ve heard quite a bit about you.”

“Thank you. It’s lovely to meet you both,” you reply, feeling a mixture of nerves and excitement.

Helaena guides you to your seat at the long, polished dining table. The table is set with gleaming silverware and adorned with an array of delicious dishes—roast meats, steamed vegetables, and freshly baked bread. The space is elegant and inviting, with a long, polished oak table set with gleaming silverware and sparkling crystal glasses. Soft, golden light filters through antique chandeliers, casting a warm glow over the room. The rich scent of roasted meats and fresh herbs fills the air, mingling with the subtle aroma of the flowers that adorn the table. Your eyes scan over the feast and the new faces, taking in the grandeur of the setting.

You watch as Helaena’s father, Viserys, limps his way into the room, clinging onto Alicent’s arm with one hand while the other pushes on a cane. There’s a thin layer of hair on his head and the side of his face is riddled with scars. His face lights up with a warm smile when he meets your eyes, radiating a quiet strength and dignity. Alicent takes her place next to him, a soft smile adorning her lips.

You observe the family as they take their seats and begin scooping servings of food onto their plates. The initial nervousness fades as you find yourself relaxing into your seat. You're passed a large plate of potatoes, Helaena motioning for you to help yourself.

Viserys is seated to Alicent’s left, his demeanor kind and relaxed. He looks up with a gentle smile. “So you’re the friend Helaena has spoken so highly of. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

“The pleasure is mine,” you say, returning his smile with genuine warmth. He continues by inquiring about your past, how you came to be in London, what you thought of the weather compared to back home. It made the butterflies return to your stomach as you answered each of his questions but by the time the second course was being served, you felt comfortable in your seat surrounded by the new faces. You can even see Aemond and Daeron’s faces soften towards you, even popping in a question or two.

“She’s quite the asset,” Alicent remarks with a knowing glance toward Helaena. “I’m sure she’s been a wonderful companion to you.”

Helaena rolls her eyes playfully. “You’re making it sound like I’m her personal tour guide.”

“You’ve certainly taken on that role,” Viserys adds with a chuckle. “And what about your plans for the future? Helaena tells me you’re quite ambitious.”

You nod, feeling a slight flush of pride. “I hope to continue working in the field and eventually contribute to research and education. The experiences I’ve had so far have been incredible.”

The warm hum of conversation continues to fill the room as the Targaryen family settles into their seats. The clinking of silverware and the soft murmur of voices create a comfortable backdrop to the meal.

Helaena leans closer, her voice a soft murmur. “So, what do you think of the estate so far?”

“It’s even more beautiful than I imagined,” you reply, a smile tugging at your lips. “Everything here has such character.”

Alicent, seated across from you, chuckles softly. “I’m so glad you think so. I’ve always felt that our home has a bit of magic to it. It’s like stepping into a different time, don’t you think?”

You nod, taking a sip of wine that has been poured for you. “Absolutely. There’s something so charming about the way everything is preserved.”

The conversation continues to settle into a comfortable rhythm, but the door creaks open and a figure steps in. The room momentarily goes quiet, all eyes drifting to him. He stands silently in the doorway as he meets the gazes of his family. Alicent rises from her seat at the head of the table, her expression a mixture of relief and exasperation.

“Aegon,” she says, her voice tense with unspoken reproach. She reaches for his arm but hesitates as her fingers brush his damp sleeve. With a resigned sigh, he shrugs off his coat, letting it fall in a sodden heap on the floor before it's picked up by a man you swear you’ve seen two of this evening. The muffled thud of the fabric is a silent testament of Aegon’s defiance in the face of her disapproval. He meets Alicent's gaze, and from your spot on the other side of the room, you can see the disappointment lurking beneath the surface of her composed facade. They have much to speak about, but not here, not now.

“Aegon,” Viserys says, his tone a mix of amusement and warmth. It tears him away from the intense stare of his mother. “You’ve finally graced us with your presence. We were just beginning to think you’d forsaken us for the allure of London nightlife.”

Aegon’s gaze sweeps across the room, settling briefly on you. He offers a friendly, albeit slightly reserved, smile. “Sorry for the delay. Work ran late, and I got caught up in a few things.”

He is much different to his brothers. Though he shares the same platinum hair, his appearance is much more disheveled. His hair is tousled atop his head, covered partially by a dark beanie. The beard that is beginning to adorn his cheeks is darker than the hair on his head and there’s a light scent of cigarettes that wafts off of him as he walks. He’s dressed in a loose gray henley under a plaid shirt and dark trousers.

He takes his seat at the table, his movements casual yet deliberate. As he starts to serve himself, the conversation resumes, though now there’s a subtle undercurrent of anticipation. Everyone’s smiles are warm but not as relaxed as they were before. A different energy seems to run through the Targaryens.

Helaena leans closer to you, her voice barely above a whisper. “Aegon’s always running around with work and other commitments. He’s a bit of a mystery sometimes.”

You nod, spooning mashed potatoes into your mouth, glancing at Aegon as he engages in conversation with his family. There’s an air to him that you can’t quite put a finger on. A look in his eyes you recognized from Helaena, a distance in his eyes, a soft ache that pools in his violet eyes.

Alicent tries to bridge the gap in the silence that is beginning to lull over the table and calls out from her spot on the other side. “Aegon, tell us about your latest project. You’ve been working on it quite extensively.”

Aegon leans back, a forced smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “It’s just another one of those things that keeps me busy. Nothing too thrilling.” His reply is curt and short. It’s obvious he doesn’t feel like talking about work, preferring to stick to any other topic.

The dinner continues with lively conversation, but you notice Aegon casting occasional, subtle glances in your direction. His interest is understated, almost imperceptible, but it lingers. Despite not exchanging a word with him throughout the meal, you find yourself shrinking a bit each time his gaze meets yours.

The conversation gradually wanes, and a moment of silence falls over the room, broken only by Viserys’s abrupt cough. Alicent rises from her seat, signaling to a pair of live-in nurses who enter the room. She whispers something to one of them before turning back to the gathering. Nervousness seems to settle over her as she clasps her hands in front of her, wringing them anxiously.

"Thank you all for joining us this evening," Alicent says, her voice betraying a hint of unease. "We should all get some rest. The big party is just a few weeks away and we have much to plan."

As everyone begins to filter out, moving quietly like shadows in the night, you follow Helaena to your room. Looking back, you catch a glimpse of Aegon walking further down the hallway. His gait is slow and detached, his shoulders slightly slumped, before he turns a corner and fades into the darkness.

"Goodnight," Helaena says with a sleepy smile, lingering at her doorway. "Sleep well. Tomorrow promises to be eventful."

"Goodnight, Helaena," you reply, returning her smile. "Thank you again for having me."

"Of course. Sweet dreams," Helaena says warmly before closing her door behind her.

tags: @mrs-starkgaryen @gloryekaterina

#hotd #house of the dragon #aegon ii targaryen x reader #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon ii targaryen #tom glynn carney x reader #tom glynn carney

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deedee-sims · 2 months

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Flower Collar Dress

I wanted to make a cute dress out of this! A mashup of my 4t2 GP06 Blouse Flower Collar and Skell's Elite Summer Dress. Shoes on the fullbody version are by Io, some recolors by Angelapleasant.

For adults and teens, they have the approrpiate morphs. There are 10 colors (it was a little tricky to match the colors, but I did my best). You can choose if you want the TF files repo'd to their adult counterparts, or not :)

Download Flower Collar Dress Repo'd - Alternate

Download Flower Collar Dress Standalone - Alternate

Download Flower Collar Dress Top-Only Repo'd - Alternate

Download Flower Collar Dress Top-Only Standalone - Alternate

#ts2 #sims 2 #sims 2 download #dl clothes #dl toponly

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444you · 6 months

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a liars guide to a perfect summer 💋

activities

go to art exhibits, retail therapy, study groups, paint ur toes, haunted houses, pottery classes, swimming, escape rooms, beach days, slumber parties, road trips, movie nights, get froyo, ouija boards, spend time in ur local coffee shop, see a psychic, or horse riding

makeup routine

purlisse bb cream, baby lips, too faced mascara, rare beauty blush, apple super lash, lip smuckers, or maybelline bb cream

day jobs

local library, magazine, lifeguard, museum, movie theater, or bakery

attire

bandage dresses, comfort camis, plaid skirts, blazers, colorful pants, ruffled blouses, equestrian pants, sweaters, knee high boots, demin skirts, ties, wedges, peplum tops, & more

hair

colorful highlights, beachwaver iron, brazilian blow outs, balayage hair, camille rose products, and hair perfume

#pac #pick a card #pick a picture #pick a pile #tarot cards #tarot #pretty little liars #alison dilaurentis #aria montgomery #emily fields #hanna marin #pink pilates princess #tumblr girls #it girl #self care #self love

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quickiesgirl · 1 year

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In the Kitchen - Wanda Maximoff

Paring: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

Warning: 18+, Smut, Dom/Sub, Semi-Public Sex, Kitchen Sex, Cunnilingus, 50s Theme, Alternative Universe, My Shitty Writing.

Kinktober 1 - Kitchen Sex

You weren’t entirely thrilled receiving an invitation to the summer block party, thrown by your neighbor, Agnes. As fun as it may seem to fellow Westview residents, you rarely cared for the large, interactive crowds.

Instead, you enjoyed being in the presence of your family, whereas your wonderful wife, Wanda, was a social butterfly. Yet, even with these different traits, you still found some interesting ways to work around them.

Wanda glanced over her shoulder watching you walk through the kitchen door, well-dressed, and fresh out of the shower.

“Almost ready, my love?” She asked with the sweetest, most loving tone, untying the white, laced apron around her waist to lay it on top of the countertop, watching as you walked through the kitchen door, well-dressed, and fresh out of a shower.

“Almost,” You repeated, leaning into the side of the counter, feeding the thin, leather belt through your trousers, noticing the silence that filled the active household, “Did the boys already head outside?”

“Yeah, they’re out on the lawn playing with Señor Scratchy.”

You took a moment to admire the missis. She looked absolutely stunning, standing there, dressed in her new blouse, bought specially for this occasion, and a bright, flowy pencil skirt that stopped mid-knee, hugging her hips in just the right places.

You came up from behind and wrapped your arms around her waist, chest pressing into her back while your chin lowered upon her shoulder with pursed, pouty lips, “Sure we can’t stay home today?”

“Honey, we have to show up to the block party, Agnes is counting on us to bring the pies. I just hope I followed her grandmother's recipe correctly..." She said, glancing down at the recipe card, squinting her eyes, and knitting her brows together at the barely eligible writing scribbled across it.

Wanda quickly caught her bottom lip between her teeth, her attention was now set on the warmth spreading through her entire body as your lips began to lay kisses along the back of her neck, her floral-scented perfume filling your nose as you hummed softly and allowed your hands to caress her round, curved hips.

Wanda sighed softly, cheeks growing a shade of scarlet as she tilted her neck to the side, allowing you more space to do as you please.

Intoxicated by your touch and attention.

You move up slowly, soft lips brushing against the ridge of her ear, sending a shiver down her spine, whispering in that dominant tone, “mhm, least I’ll have my gorgeous wife by my side,”

She spun around in your embrace, laying her hands upon your clothed frame and sliding from your waist up to your breasts to adjust the collar of your long-sleeved button-up.

“You know, no one would mind us being a few minutes late,” You suggested knowingly, inching your face closer to hers, “Just a little taste, baby?”

Wanda immediately looked around seeing the many open windows surrounding the two of you, along with the frequently used door leading into the kitchen, “In here? W-what if someone sees us, or the kids walk in on us?”

“No one will catch us, darling. I’ll be listening for the door the entire time.”

That look on your face tells everything she needs to know, all your wants and desires, without even having to read your mind. It made her ache for your touch. “Promise?”

“I promise.” You smirked, watching her slowly move in, lacing her arms around your neck and connecting her lips to yours for a deep, intimate kiss.

Before she could think, you pinned her to the kitchen counter and grabbed ahold of her upper thighs to swiftly place her on top, causing a soft gasp to escape her lips. Your action sends a wave of heat between her thighs. She loved it when you’re forceful.

Wanda slowly kicked off her pearl-colored kitten heels, dropping them to the floor as she draped her arms over your shoulders, feeling your hands massage the underside of her smooth legs, the metal of your wedding ring cold and prominent against her skin, reminding her of the undying love you share for each other.

With a twist of her wrist, her fingers blazed with red translucent energy, using her powers to suddenly close the kitchen shutters that looked in on the dining room table and living room, giving the two of you some much-needed privacy.

Wasting no time, you pushed her skirt up and discarded her white panties to the floor, kneeling down, face inches away from her pretty, hairless pussy, already glistening with arousal.

Eyes fluttering shut, taking in her sweet aroma with each breath before pressing your warm, wet tongue just above her entrance, licking a long, teasingly slow strip between her folds till you reach her sensitive bud, feeling her pulsate beneath your touch.

Wanda sucked in a sharp breath, instantly dropping her hands up to grab ahold of your hair and push you deeper, showing you exactly where she needed you the most, causing you to devilishly smirk at your beautiful wife before pulling her hood back ever so slightly to reveal her swollen, sensitive clitoris, finally giving her some well-deserved attention.

The second the tip of your tongue swirled around, a pretty moan escaped her lips. Her head arching back as she squeezes your hair between her fingers, feeling the heat already pooling in her stomach. The weight of her gorgeous thighs now strung over your steady shoulders.

“Best keep those eyes on me, sweetheart…” You said in less of a suggestion and more of an order, “I wouldn't want you to miss the show.”

Wanda’s heavy gaze lowered, lashes batting as she watched your tongue work and maneuver her sweet spots between those pink, puffy lips, licking and teasing till her legs were trembling around your head.

Your mind was set on one thing, getting a taste of that sweet cum gushing across your lips.

Her little pornographic sounds began to build, more and more, until they were spilling out of the kitchen. She was struggling to remain quiet.

Wanda bunched the beautifully old-fashioned material of her dress in the palm of her hand, digging her long, painted nails into the fabric as her other hand reached down to grip the edge of the wooden counter, searching for any form of support so she could roll her hips on your tongue.

A coil lay in her stomach, tensing and tightening, pulling her closer to release.

“Mhm, that’s it, pretty baby,” You growl, grabbing hold of her hips over the soft material of her skirt to arch her pelvis forward and hold her still while you sink into her wet, tight hole, allowing your tongue to side in and out relentlessly, stroking her velvety walls while you fucked her forcefully.

“Please, I'm gonna come! Y-you're gonna- make me cu-mmuhh~” She reached her tipping point, eyes rolling to the back of her head and her body tensing under your touch, unable to hold back any longer.

Her cunt contracted, releasing her sweet juices along your tastebuds, painting your tongue like so many times before, yet every time, it was just as sweet as the last.

You happily cleaned her up, and slowly dragged your hands down, planting gentle kisses along her plush inner thigh while you ogled your wife, who was beautiful as ever with that dazed, euphoric look across her face.

The sound of the front door slamming shut instantly caught your attention. Your eyes broaden, listening to Billy shout from the living room, “Mom? Mom? Hey, where is everyone?”

Wanda gasped, hurriedly standing to her feet, hands flattening down her skirt, and slipping back into her heels as you swiped her panties from the floor and tucked them into your back pocket.

“We’re in the kitchen.” You spoke up, dragging your thumb over your bottom lip, collecting the rest of her juices to lick away before gazing in her direction, “We’ll be finishing this later.”

She blushingly smiled, trying to hide it as soon as Billy and Tommy rushed through the swinging door with pure excitement on their faces.

You made her needy, sick thoughts begin to wander, anticipating sundown when the kids are tucked away in bed, peacefully asleep while their moms finally have some alone time.

Wanda Maximoff Smut Taglist: @sunflowerharrington @wandsmxmff @cantthinkofauserlololol @pikachupepito2 @Natashamacimoff69 @likefirenrain @olsensnpm @cristin-rjd @demxnicprxncess @acimadetudorubron

Taglist Form | Message if you want to be removed <3

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff smut #wanda maximoff x fem!reader #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x y/n #scarlet witch #scarlet witch x reader #scarlet witch x you #scarlet witch x y/n #wanda maximoff fanfiction #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda mcu #wandavision #quickiesgirl writing

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blueberryarchive · 5 months

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𝙖𝙣 𝙚𝙣𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙧

more 80's slasher!jk

previously on steph's bathroom... // later on brew house...

Dazed and Confused echoed on the walls of the garage, the heat slowly dissipated with the canned beer that you swallowed in long gulps, the air polluted with the smell of pot. You were wearing high-waisted pants and a colorful blouse, bare feet. Robert Plant moaned in your ears as you drank another beer and damn, how good the hippies had it before, you thought.

A greased hand snaked up to your waist, squeezing so hard that you felt the beer return to your esophagus, the calloused fingers decorated with thick silver rings that ruminated over your breasts until connecting his fingers and nose with your neck, an indecent exhale taking in all the air in the room and with it your coherence.

"No, wait."

“Shh, for once in your life, fuck. Shut your stupid mouth." Rings covered your lips, a wet tongue trailing your jugular and the boiling smell of weed in his mouth.

You wanted to say his name, over and over again in that guitar solo. Jungkook, Jungkook, Jungkook.

And zaz! The garage was torn from your ears, the sun covered your body lying on the stands and you were no longer dressed like you were going to Woodstock, the backlight made your boyfriend's blonde hair and his red uniform shine.

“What the hell are you listening to? I have like fifteen minutes calling you.” His ethereal smile searched inside your backpack finding the small plastic box. “Led Zeppelin. That's new.” This time the laughter disappeared, putting on the headphones.

Your body sat up looking for a coherent explanation, Jimin laughed after listening for a few seconds.

“I didn't know you liked to hear men moan, you would have told me and I'd make you a whole album.” Your hand hit his chest and he laughed again.

"Shut up."

You both looked at each other when the laughter began to die with the summer wind, practice was over, the cheerleaders were leaving and the players were dissipating, going to look for their girlfriends or in groups to go to the bar near college. It was Friday and the vacations were approaching, you could see it in the smile of each student, in their quick walks, in the circles under your exhausted boyfriend's eyes.

"Hi, beautiful."

"Hi, handsome."

God was the only one who knew how you came to be with the Maroon Warriors' quarterback, with his sweaty hair stuck to his temple, his lips swollen from biting them, and the two small black spots on his cheek, singed against his laugh lines. Defined arms and thighs wide and hard like a horse's back.

"You like what you see?"

“If I could kneel in front of you right now, I would.”

Jimin raised his eyebrows at you, where did his silent little girl and infinitely aware of every word that came from her beloved lips go? But he couldn't lie that your words made him hard under his white pants.

His hand rose to the back of your head and brought your mouth to his. There was something so inherently bestial and delicious about the smell of sweat emanating from Jimin's uniform that he made you exhale sharply and stick your tongue into the equation.

“Mm.” Jimin frowned, opening his eyes a little to confirm that he was still kissing his girlfriend. “Are you hungry, doll?”

“I haven't seen you in two weeks, Minnie. What you' think?”

“I left you with your friends so you wouldn't get bored.”

“That sleepover was so long ago, I'm bored with them.” You moaned softly, your neck burning, someone was watching you.

“Do you want to have a sleepover with your boyfriend?” Jimin scoffed and you nodded, ignoring the joke.

Your hand removed the headphones from his ears and you chained your arms around his neck, your body throbbing with a brute force that wanted to move fast and careless, that looked for a way to drag your boyfriend to the bathrooms and strip him naked, fog the walls of the bath with your promiscuity, yours of something more viscous and thick.

“Park!” a voice shouted for the third time and Jimin broke your grotesque beatitude again.

“Fuck, I'm sick of this old man.” Jimin mumbled looking at his coach. “Sir, practice is over. Let me enjoy my girlfriend for a second.” He yelled but old Grant didn't care how much you both wanted each other.

Jimin looked into your eyes with frustration and then looked at his pants, the silhouette marked thickly along the zipper to his thigh. You smiled and gave another small kiss to his neck.

“Up up, champion.” You cheered, fluttering his hair. Jimin took your coat and covered his erection, the look on his teammates' faces when they saw him stand up was indescribable, laughter while Jimin cursed them all while he went down the steps in a funny way. "Call me." You screamed. Please, you murmured.

You took your cassette player and your headphones to put it in your backpack, you watched your boyfriend listening attentively to Mr. Grant until a furry, red mass took your attention. You still didn't know what was the team mascot supposed to be with a metal sword and eyes big and open like two billiard balls, like a hunter.

One of the players patted the big red monster's back and the man inside him took off his heavy head, his dark sweaty hair, a silver hoop hanging from his right ear. Your heart was pounding, you told yourself that you were here to watch your boyfriend practice, to support him. Of course you looked at the other players from time to time trying to find Jungkook.

Things would be easier if you just asked your friends and they pointed with their manicured finger at the headless man in your fantasies. But you didn't want them to think you liked him, specially Bobby Joe who would tell Jimin in a heartbeat, the bitch. It was just curiosity, of course. You could find out yourself.

Besides, where's the fun in that?

Two weeks had passed since the sleepover and you could feel his gaze on the flesh of your thighs, the saliva of a predator with each man that passed by you, the fangs of a hyena cruelly tempting with its tips against your skull.

Two weeks searching through familiar faces and unfamiliar ones, like playing Guess Who.

Guess who listens to Led Zeppelin to sleep.

Guess who would dare to respond with such confidence to a stranger.

Guess who would smile while he promises to rape you if he finds you?

Guess who left you with his laugh tattooed on your stomach.

And your hands sweated as you felt his gaze again. There, yes. It was him again. The mascot. Between the dark strands of his hair, under his thick eyebrows and in the middle of his sly smile. It was only a second but that's enough for you. A quick, indiscreet look.

You tried to maintain your composure, to keep your balance as he walked away inside the costume lighting a cigarette with his gloved hands. You walked down the steps as normally as you could without them realizing that your heart was being strangled, you were so close.

You walked across the grass to the back of the stadium, you looked around but it was gone, like a hallucination, like the air in the garage of your dreams.

You bit your nails thinking, you only had to wait for the stadium to be alone. Enter the locker room, find that costume and... then what?. It sickened you to think that you were so desperate. You hadn't traveled from your small town to New York for this, you hadn't earned a reputation or your scholarship to chase a loser through college.

Your cheeks were burning, you could feel your mother's gaze upon seeing you in such a state. But this time you agreed with her judgment. You stood up with your head down, you don't know how long you had spent looking at the grass, but the sunset was already bathing the empty stadium in a dusty pink.

“Nice shorts.” The deep voice said from afar.

“Fuck off.” You said without thinking before turning around.

And there it was, with the cigarette dangling from his lips, a Slayer t-shirt pressed against his arms, so short that it showed the soft line of hair from his navel to hidden in his jeans. His elbows rested on his knees as he waited for you to insult him again.

You didn't even dare to do that. Could it be him?

You clear your throat and fix your hair. “Do you know where the archery club is?”

His eyebrows unravel in surprise.

“Do you like archers?”

“Why don't you assume I'm in the club?” You interrupted, stepping closer.

His smile spread across his face again, a puff before he stood, tall and careless in front of you. He looked down and you could feel the fangs salivating, just the tip entering the parietal part of your head.

“Because I’ve never seen you there.”

And Dazed and Confused started playing, the drums pounding fast in your chest. Your lips dried as you watched him walk away.

“Are you Jungkook Jeon?”

The stranger stopped in his footsteps, his head snapped up before turning to look at you. And there was the smile you have imagined so many times.

"Then it's you." He hummed, tilting his head. “Oh, the quarterback's sweet little thing, of course.” His eyes scanned your trembling body.

And now what? Everything was so quiet, there was no one around, if you screamed no one would hear you. If you moaned, no one would hear you. If you were dying, no one would heard you.

“This heat must be killing you, lil' thing. Let’s go to the Brew House, I’ll introduce you to the president of the club there.”

"Don't call me little thing." Your brain wasn't working, is this an option? He brushed off your anger with the rolling of his eyes.

"You said you wanted to go to the archery club, isn't it to sign up?" Mockingly he took some keys out of his jeans.

"Yes, of course." You stuttered walking behind him, his broad back and walk intimidating you.

“You can put your bike in the back of the truck” His brown eyes looked at you sideways. “In case you suddenly want to escape or something.” He laughed.

#❗slasher! jk thoughts #bts imagines #bts #bts fanfic #bts smut #jungkook imagine #jungkook smut #jungkook fanfic #jungkook #bts jungkook #jungkook x oc #jungkook x reader #jimin fanfic #jimin smut #jimin bts

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creedslove · 1 year

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RUNNING INTO JOEL'S EX 🍓 - HEADCANONS

No outbreak!Joel Miller x f!reader

A/N: I missed our husband's headcanons 🥺😭

It was supposed to be just another Saturday morning in which you and Joel went grocery shopping for the weekend

He hadn't worked that morning, so he was extra affectionate after the incredible lazy sex you two had in the morning

He pushed the shopping cart with one hand as the other wrapped around your waist; he simply loved that cute outfit you were wearing, your summer blouse was his favorite color and your damn tight jeans showing perfectly how sexy your ass was, was enough to make his jeans tight

You looked up at him and realized he had forgotten to brush his hair, it was time for him to get a haircut as his curls were beginning to get wild, but you also loved them that way

You ran your fingers through his hair to put it back into place, but loving how it felt under your touch, giggling at him

"you're so handsome, Joel"

He pulled you closer, your body pressed tight against his at the same time his hand ran up and down your side gently

You two talked about your plans for the weekend, placing the things in your cart distractedly, just having a mundane moment between a married couple

You looked into his eyes, you didn't know what was up, but Joel was just so effortless handsome that morning, he looked so relaxed and you just couldn't help yourself, leaning in and pecking his lips gently

He was about to deepen the kiss, for once not bothering about the PDA, when a voice interrupted the two of you

"Joel?! Who's that?"

His ex, Sarah's mom stood in front of you shocked, pushing her own shopping cart and not believing the coincidence of running into the ex she'd abandoned along with few-month-old baby

You could see Joel tensed up immediately and in a blink of an eye your relaxed husband was gone at the same time the woman stared harshly at you. You recognized some of the features you've seen on Sarah on the woman's face

And you were pretty sure you'd seen at least a couple of pictures of a younger version of that woman, still pregnant, and a very young Joel. It'd been Tommy who showed you once he was helping his brother clean up the garage, as both your husband and Sarah didn't like seeing pictures of the woman who abandoned them

"Come on Joel, let's go honey…"

You suggested it, taking him by the arm and pulling him with you, but his ex smirked as her eyes ran to your hands seeing the beautiful engagement ring and the wedding band you always wore

"You gave her a ring, Joel… a fancy one, seems like things are going good for you, you even got a young thing to cook and clean for you"

She teased and you could tell he was running out of patience, you already hated that woman, she left, abandoning her husband and daughter and the moment she ran into him again, she couldn't even ask about her, instead she was more concerned about the jewelry your husband had given you

"You don't get to talk about my wife that way, we don't owe you any explanation, you left me and our daughter, who's doing great by the way, not that you care in anyway"

"I've already told you many times I wasn't made for motherhood, Joel, you got me pregnant and I didn't want to live a miserable life next to you and a child I didn't know how to raise"

Joel's veins began popping at her words, you could tell he was holding himself back and trying to control his anger but that woman was able to get under his skin in a way you had never seen before

You placed your hand on his arm and asked him to leave, before their interaction could escalate to a fight or something like that, you just wished you hadn't bumped into that woman

He clenched his jaw but nodded at you and began pushing the cart towards another direction and walked away; you could see she was ready to give a snarky remarks but you took a step closer and stared deadly into her eyes

"You chose to walk away from them and Joel suffered too much because of that, not only him, your daughter too, of course, but eventually they managed to forget about you and now Joel's happy because I make him happy, yeah, I'm younger and I clean and cook but I also love my husband and I love to know I'll always be better than you at everything. You're a bad person and it's no one's fault but your own you are a miserable person"

You left the woman behind and you managed to reach Joel standing in line to pay for the groceries; you could tell he was deep in thought and you let him be, knowing he needed some time to process what happened

The ride home was silent and you didn't say much, and the few things you'd said Joel either didn't reply or just mumbled an answer, and you knew it wasn't a great time for conversation

Once you got home, you put the groceries away and asked Joel what he wanted for lunch, but he just said he wasn't hungry so you nodded and just made yourself a sandwich

In the afternoon you didn't have much to do, so you sat down to read a book and ended up falling asleep while Joel stayed outside doing some hard work here and there and keeping himself busy

You woke up and saw him in the backyard, sighing and going to the kitchen. Even if he wasn't angry with you, you still felt upset that woman had to ruin a seeming perfect day

You wanted to distract yourself so you grabbed some ingredients and started sorting things out to bake a cake, at least you could use something to sweeten your day

You were distracting following the recipe when you felt arms wrapping around your waist and a big presence holding you

You looked up at Joel, who rested his chin on your shoulder, sighing and keeping you close

"I'm sorry darling, I just got really angry with her and I didn't want to take out on you… I-"

You silenced him with a kiss, his arms so tight around your body, holding you as if you were the most precious stone he'd ever seen, you were too good for him and he was sure he didn't deserve you but there you were, his wife, the real love of his life and that was what really mattered to him, you two were meant to be ❤️

_____

A/N: I need to marry this man asap 🥺❤️

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rip-quizilla · 1 year

Text

The Naughty Wench

Summary: You work as a barmaid at the raunchiest booth at the Renaissance Faire, and Eddie purchases a beer from you. He gets a little more than a "huzzah for the tipper" when he throws a fiver in the jar labeled "Thank you, Mistress". (Read: you talk dirty to Eddie while you pour beer down his throat) Based on this Tik Tok posted by @joyful_aura: https://www.tiktok.com/@joyful_aura/video/7244964514561543470

Word Count: 4.7k

Content Warnings: light degradation, dirty talk, sexual themes

Working the faire circuit was in one word… an experience.

Just last week you had been in Texas at Scarborough Faire, where it had been hot as balls underneath your layers of linen, lace and leather. The earlier months hadn’t been too bad, but there was one thing you’d learned about the southern states in your years of renaissance faire experience- when summer hits in the south, it hits hard. The moment you’d driven your van past the Indiana state line, you could have sworn the temperature dropped ten degrees on the spot.

Now here you were- all trussed up in your wench getup, tits pushed up high enough that they rested like two fleshy pillows right below your collarbones. The corset you’d chosen today wasn’t your most comfortable, but you looked damn good in it- milk chocolate brown with pale gold ribbons that laced up the front. The straps that ran over your shoulders provided some extra support, which you were grateful for with all of the movement your job required. Your skirts today were a warm shade of mustard yellow with a few mismatched patches sewn over holes and stains that had refused to come out over the years. Short sleeved blouses were a must, unless you wanted to pass out from heat stroke or have beer-soaked sleeves clinging to your forearms. Today yours was a pale cream color, with little puffed cap sleeves to cover your shoulders and a neckline that plunged below your corset, so the girls were front and center, ready to earn plenty of “huzzah for the tipper!”s.

Today was Sunday, and since this faire was weekends only, Sundays were basically Fridays as far as faire folk were concerned. As was tradition, you would all be going out for libations once the day was done, followed by a blissful night of sleeping late in your Volkswagen Westfalia.

You hadn’t known what to expect when you’d quit your job and joined the faire circuit, but every day you got to meet new people, play dress-up, and speak in a funny accent- which accent? You switched it up day to day. And the fact that you got paid to do that made it even better.

You loved your little renfaire life.

You stood with your hands on your hips inside the little wooden booth that served as your place of work for the next month’s worth of weekends. Every plastic cup was stacked in place, you had a fresh cleaning rag stuck into your apron, and patrons were already beginning to file into the fairgrounds. A pleasant breeze brought a smile to your face.

“Morning, love!” You turned to see your fellow barmaid, Ingrid, wiping her hands on her own apron after wringing out her own rag into a small bucket of soapy water. Her outfit today was- like most days- the polar opposite of yours. She looked more like a pirate wench while your color palette was more akin to what one might picture in a countryside tavern. Burgundy skirts and off-white petticoats swished around her black lace-up boots, and her black leather waist cincher showcased the smallest part of Ingrid’s middle. You gasped, acting scandalized by the bits of black lace from her bra that peeked over the neckline of her red blouse.

“Ingrid, what kind of place do you think we’re running here?” you tutted, smiling cheekily all the while. “This is a respectable establishment! People might start thinking we sell more than just the drinks here, you know.”

Ingrid cackled, hopping up to sit on the wooden counter behind her. “My dear, I have absolutely no clue what you could be talking about.” She shrugged, smirking behind a shared secret. “We do sell more than just the drinks.” You both giggled knowingly, continuing to complete all of the morning to-do’s around the bar.

Ingrid was right- drinks weren’t the only thing your bar was known for.

There were plenty of booths around the faire where patrons could purchase a drink, but only one where the barmaids would pour beer directly into their mouths while talking dirty to them- and The Naughty Wench just happened to be that booth.

Originally, the idea had been Ingrid’s- the two of you had been friends for a year now, meeting last year in this exact same spot at Indie Faire and working at what was then a run-of-the-mill beer booth. It was customary at any renaissance faire for bar wenches to proclaim “Huzzah for the tipper!” when presented with a tip of any kind, so neither of you was a stranger to putting on the theatrics when money was dropped into your tip jar. One day, however, Ingrid had put out not one, but two tip jars- one labeled ‘Thank You’, the other labeled ‘Thank You Mistress’. You had laughed at it at first. Then Ingrid started…changing the script.

A patron would chuckle to themselves, throwing a dollar into the Mistress jar, eyes going wide and cheeks flushing when Ingrid would smile and tell them they were “such a good boy.”

After a few more, she’d gotten even more creative. “Oh, you thought I only wanted money?” she would croon, holding the beer tauntingly out of their reach. “I want to hear you beg for it, say ‘please, mistress’,” When you’d heard it you’d been appalled, mouth opened wide in shock. You had already prepared yourself for the patron to yell in her face and demand their money back when you’d heard a shy, stuttering “P-please, mistress, can I have my beer?”

Throughout the day, Ingrid’s “Mistress” character only continued to amp up with every hour. At some point, you had joined in, repeating the sultry tones you’d been listening to Ingrid spout easily to strangers and even making up a few responses of your own.

“Only good boys get to drink at the faire, have you been a good boy?”

“You need to say please before you drink- good girl, you’re so very welcome.”

“Hands behind your back and open wide.”

Word about Ingrid’s sultry tipping strategy circulated quickly. Soon, more and more patrons were lining up at your booth ready to be degraded by pretty girls in tight corsets, and when you started pouring the beer into their mouths, tits pressed up higher on your chest while you leaned seductively over the bartop? People couldn’t get enough.

The success you’d both had with Ingrid’s brilliant idea had now landed you here- a booth that was dedicated to serving delicious beverages garnished with a splash of degradation.

Your first patron of the day- a young woman who looked ready to play a fairy in A Midsummer Night’s Dream- stepped up to Ingrid, gazing up at her with a flutter of eyelashes as she ordered a can of beer and shyly dropped a one dollar bill into the jar labeled ‘Thank You, Mistress’. Ingrid smiled, asking “Do you know what that jar is for?” to which the fairy blushed and nodded, giggling.

“Mm-hm.”

Ingrid grinned flirtatiously, popped open the beer, and addressed the fairy, “Such tiny little hands you have, they’ll make my can look so huge…”

***

Eddie Munson was vibrating.

At least, he felt like he was. He could barely contain his enthusiasm as he looked around at every sword, every pair of elf ears, every corset- to his left, there was a booth selling handmade leather journals. To his right, a stage where a crowd had begun to gather to watch a group of bagpipe players. In front of him and behind him, a seemingly endless number of nerds who, like him, had found a place where being a weirdo was not mocked, not simply tolerated- but celebrated.

“I fucking love it here.” Eddie sighed.

Steve Harrington, whom Eddie was still a little astounded had been convinced to actually go to a renaissance faire, looked overwhelmed already. “I can’t believe there are this many grown adults who wanted to spend the last day of their weekend playing dress-up.”

“Playing dress-up and getting drunk.” Robin corrected. Unlike Harrington, she had thrown herself into the renfaire spirit completely, showing up in a tasteful pirate outfit that Eddie had a feeling was comprised mostly of oversized pieces she’d found in the men’s section of the thrift store, but she pulled it off. All she was missing were some real swords, which she had already announced she was on the hunt for today.

“I feel bad for people who are so out of touch with their inner child that they have to get drunk just to put on a costume.” Dustin said matter-of-factly, shooting Steve a judgemental look. Steve balked when he caught it, yapping at Dustin about growing up or the ridiculousness of how much quality costumes cost- something along those lines. Eddie wasn’t listening, he was too busy taking mental note of which booths he needed to come back to before they left; he knew if he ducked inside them now, he would blow all of his money on the first stall they saw, and he was determined to stretch his budget for the day as far as he could.

“Well I for one think we all look amazing, costume or no.” Robin said decisively. Eddie had to agree. He had spent weeks working on his own costume, digging through his and his friends’ closets to create an ensemble fit for a tiefling bard such as himself. He had fashioned himself a pair of red horns using one of Erica’s old headbands, toilet paper rolls, tin foil, paper mache and black paint. Now, they sat nestled securely among his brown mane of curls. The rest of his outfit had been easy- a blousy-looking shirt from Nancy’s closet that he’d rolled up around the elbows, one of Wayne’s old waistcoats from a suit that hadn’t seen the light of day since Eddie’s parents’ wedding, apparently, a pair of black pants that he’d tucked into his combat boots, and a plethora of accessories. Rings on every finger, every belt he owned slung over his waist or across his torso, one even looped twice around his thigh. Eddie had even gone the extra mile this morning and smudged some of Robin’s red lipstick (he was still amazed that Buckley owned lipstick) around his eyes as a nod to the fact that tieflings’ skin is normally red or blue. To finish off the look, he had even brought along his old acoustic guitar, which was slung over his back to mark him undeniably as a bard.

Eddie thought he looked pretty damn cool.

The rest of their party had also decked themselves out for the day, Robin with her pirate outfit, Dustin, Mike, Lucas and Will had done a fantastic job of transforming themselves into hobbits for the day. Max, Erica and El hadn’t been able to decide whether they wanted to dress as pirates or fairies- so they’d all chosen both. Now they looked happy as could be, skipping down the dirt path with fairy wings on their backs and plastic swords on their hips. That left Steve as the only normal-looking person in a sea of geeks.

Eddie chuckled to himself- for once in his life, Steve Harrington was the odd one out while Eddie Munson was effortlessly fitting in.

“First order of business is turkey legs.” Robin announced, eyes already darting in every direction in search of lunch as she wandered ahead.

Steve mumbled in agreement, along with something about finding something to drink so that he’ll survive the day. Just then, a trio of pretty young women in corsets caught his eye, immediately brightening his mood. He ran a hand through his hair, ready to say something undoubtedly Steve-y to them, when they beat him to the punch.

“Hi! Um, would you mind taking our picture?” One of them said, shoving a camera in his direction.

Steve, surprised but not altogether deterred, smiled and took the camera. “I’d be happy to, ladies.” However, he couldn’t hold back his shock when the girls all turned to the four teenage boys.

“You guys look like you came straight out of Lord of the Rings!” one of them exclaimed. “Best costumes I’ve seen all weekend, honestly.” The girls situated themselves between the blushing boys as they muttered different ‘thank you’s and complimented the girls’ outfits in turn.

Steve snapped the picture begrudgingly while Eddie slung an arm around his shoulders. “Looks like you’re losing your charm there, Harrington.” he smirked, earning an eye roll from Steve in turn.

“Yeah, yeah, piss off, Dante’s Inferno.”

“How have you read Dante but not Tolkien?”

Their bickering was cut short by corset girl retrieving the camera from Steve, then giving Eddie a shy, “I like your horns.”

Eddie turned his full attention to her with a toothy grin. “‘Preciate it, sweetheart.”

The girls waved goodbye with a thank you, erupting into giggles as they walked away. Steve shook his head in disbelief. “What world did I accidentally cross into where Munson has game and I have none?”

Eddie cackled maniacally, hopping onto a nearby picnic table and swinging his guitar to his front, strumming it a couple of times with a flourish of his hand.

“You’re in my kingdom now, King Steve!” Eddie plucked the strings of his instrument jauntily, unable to contain his glee. “Here, it pays to be a freak.”

Strum-strum-strum.

Eddie threw a fist in the air. “Huzzah!”

To his surprise, his call was echoed by several patrons and vendors, erupting in a hearty “Huzzah!” from all around him.

Accepted. Celebrated. Eddie felt at home.

That’s when Robin came bounding up from behind him, two turkey legs in hand. “Okay, I know where we’re going next.” She sounded excited.

Steve took one of the turkey legs from her hand, eager to get something in his stomach. “And where is that, Robin?”

She grinned largely, immediately launching into a retelling of a conversation she had had with another patron while waiting in line for the turkey legs, going on several tangents about how surprised she was that the line was short, how the patron had been dressed like a viking and actually had viking tattoos all up and down his arm, how she wasn’t sure how accurate they were but they sure looked cool-

“Robin!” Steve interjected impatiently.

“Right! Sorry! Basically one of the bars has wenches that talk dirty if you give them a tip, and I want to see that in action.”

Steve and Eddie’s eyes grew wide. Steve, hilariously, started to check behind him for the kids as if they were still too young and innocent to be talking about such things even though they were all about to graduate high school already. To his relief, they had all wandered into a booth selling leather goods.

Eddie responded before Steve could. His lips had curled into a mischievous smile, “Buckley,” he crooned, gesturing for her to lead the way. “I’m gonna need you to tell me more about these wenches.”

***

By noon, the line for your booth was easily at least ten people long and stayed that way no matter how many beers you’d poured. Luckily for the two of you, not every patron at the faire was seeking you out just for the bonus content. Most of them just wanted a drink, which you couldn’t fault them for. After all, nothing went with a summer day quite like a cold, bubbly beverage.

“Hey,” Ingrid’s voice caught your attention as you took a brief moment to wipe down the drain under the tap while the line had gone briefly shorter. “Remember that conversation we had where I called you out on having a type?”

You laughed, nodding your head. “Yes, I think I do. Why?”

“Tell me what that type was again?”

You sighed, tucking your rag back into your apron and patting your hands dry at your sides. “Let’s see, I think I remember you said long hair was involved-”

“Long dark hair, specifically.”

“-long dark hair, right.” you remedied. You busied yourself with fixing the next patrons’ drink orders as the discussion proceeded. “Tattoos were mentioned, and I think you said something about makeup?”

“You always get all swoony around men wearing eyeliner or some kind of eye makeup. Always. Without fail.”

“Yeah, yeah okay…” you rolled your eyes. She was right, but you hated that you were apparently so obvious about it.

“I would like to make an educated guess about another thing I think belongs on that list.” Finally turning to face Ingrid, you cocked your head, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Okay, I’ll bite- what else do you think belongs on that list?”

Ingrid grinned, looking pointedly at something over your shoulder. “I think you’re into guys who play guitar.”

You blanched- damn. That had been true since high school, how did she-

You spun around to see whatever Ingrid was focused on behind you, and felt your knees get weak when you found it. There was a man- in his twenties, from the looks of it- dressed as a tiefling bard with a guitar slung over his shoulder. It was true, from looks alone he checked all of your boxes. The long curly hair, the red makeup around his eyes, the tattoos that showed on his forearms…

“You okay over there, or did my business partner go brain dead for a second?” You heard Ingrid’s smirk before you saw it. She laughed at you good-naturedly when you faintly swatted at her with your cleaning rag. “It looks like they’re headed this way, you take him and I’ll take his blonde pirate friend.”

You took another look at the man- trying not to be obvious about the fact that you were looking- and noticed this time that he was traveling with two others: the aforementioned blonde pirate and a normal-looking guy who, admittedly, had very nice hair. They did seem to be headed your way; you quickly took a moment to turn around and top off the canteen that hung from the leather belt at your waist with some cold water. You quickly took a sip before turning around to face the counter, and when you did, there he was.

“Hi, uh-” his eyes were downcast, hands digging into his pockets for cash. “-can you break a twenty?” Pulling a crumpled bill from a money clip, his gaze met yours under an apologetic brow. Big brown eyes, framed with blood-red smudges- he pulled it off. Tremendously.

You didn’t have to force your service industry smile- it came naturally for him. “With pleasure, noble bard.” You propped your forearms on the wooden bartop, hoping your cleavage was looking particularly stunning at the angle from which he was gazing up at you. “And what sort of beverage might you be craving on this fine day?”

“That’s right, wrap your lips around my tip and drink me down, beautiful-”

Before he could answer, the two of you were both more than a little distracted by Ingrid’s filthy monologue. She held a freshly opened can of beer to the blonde pirate girl’s lips, and you were very impressed with how easily the girl was able to obey the instructions that Ingrid gave every customer who tossed a tip into the Mistress jar- hands behind your back, mouth open, chin up, eyes on me. You and the dark-haired tiefling were both entranced by the sight before you: Ingrid, with the endless stream of dirty words that tumbled from her mouth as she poured bubbly, golden brew down the throat of the tall blonde pirate.

“-keep that pretty mouth open you little minx, and look up at me as i finish down your throat. Yes, that’s a good girl, and swallow.” Ingrid pulled the can away from her lips with a smile, gazing proudly down at the pirate who sputtered out a soft cough after breathing down some much-needed oxygen. “Good job, darling.” Ingrid crooned.

The regularly-dressed guy standing behind her stared with wide eyes, and you couldn’t quite tell if he was appalled or impressed. “Oh…my god, Robin!” he guffawed.

“I’ll.. aha, um-” You refocused your attention to the bard standing before you, a natural blush now creeping into his cheeks beneath the red makeup on his temples. “-I’ll have what she’s having, please.” He nodded to his friend- Robin, apparently.

You smiled knowingly, taking the twenty from his hands and ignoring the rush you felt when your fingertips brushed his. You made his change, handing him a few fives and ones before giving the Mistress jar a gentle tap. You finished opening his beer just in time to see him toss a five into the jar- a generous tip, since the beer only cost $3.

You raised an eyebrow, smiling at him appreciatively. “Huzzah for the tipper.” you purred, opting to make the phrase just for him instead of yelling it obnoxiously for all to hear. After all, you were about to be plenty obnoxious already.

You nodded flirtatiously to direct his attention above you. “See those shackles up there, love?”

His eyes, shining with anticipation and the best kind of nerves, flicked up to what you were referring to- dangling from the wood above the bartop were a pair of metal handles that hung by black-painted chains. They were similar to an actual shackle, but it was obvious that they were there to hold, not imprison. The bard looked back down to you, returning your flirting gaze.

“I do.” he smirked.

You narrowed your eyes on him playfully. “I’m going to need you to reach up and take hold of them-” He did as he was told, and you admired how his blousy sleeves fell further down to his biceps, showcasing the way his ink stretched over lean muscles. “-oh good boy, you look so good stretched out for me like that. Hold tight now, darling.”

You had to hold back a chuckle at how quickly his flirty eye contact and smirk turned to a pure deer-in-the-headlights expression when you’d called him a good boy. You had an inkling that this guy wasn’t used to being told what to do in this particular way.

Leaning forward until your cleavage was practically up against his nose, you nodded at him sweetly. “Open that pretty pink mouth for me darling- yes, that’s right, lips around my hole and suck-” Once the can was to his lips, you began pouring a steady stream down his throat. His big doe eyes didn’t know where to look, torn between your eyes and your tits that looked just about ready to pop out of your corset. The rest of the words that tumbled from your mouth were less spoken and more so moaned while you gazed down at this gorgeous little tiefling who- for the next few moments- was completely at your mercy.

“-take it, yes, good boy, take me deep into your throat as you look up at me with those pretty brown eyes. Oh my goodness, you’re so obedient! I love it when a big strong man lets himself be this pretty and stretched out for me as he suckles on my little hole. No, don’t look away, my eyes are up here you wretched little thing- yes, that’s right, oh I only wish I could hear all the pretty noises you make when you take me down deep like this. Yes, you’re going to finish me, aren’t you? Oh yes, you’re going to finish me using that dirty little mouth-” Nearing the end of the can, you poured the last drop down his throat. “-yes, oh that’s a good boy, swallow every drop of me, good job love.”

He sputtered a final swallow, red-faced and breathing deep after chugging an entire can of beer. His eyes were still wide, but now there was also the way he looked at you- like he would do pretty much anything you ever told him to do at the drop of a hat.

Letting go of the shackles above your head, he managed to catch his breath before checking behind him to make sure he didn’t have a long line of waiting customers. No line had formed, but his blush had deepened when he saw his friends both watching him with smirks that said they were never going to let him live this down.

“Shit,” he chuckled looking up at you, his personality taking on a slightly more devil-may-care sort of attitude now. “I-uh- I think I blacked out, you might have to say all that again, I didn’t catch it the first time.”

You laughed, easily shirking the domineering attitude that you exuded for the job and relaxing into what felt natural- soft, sweet, and flirty- with this guy, at least. “Tell you what,” you said, coyly. You weren’t normally one to invite strangers out for drinks, but Ingrid had been right about one thing- this guy was definitely your type. “When the faire closes today, I’ll be at a bar called The Honeybee about ten minutes from here. If I happen to see you there,” you shrugged, and you didn’t miss how his eyes immediately flicked down to your cleavage as the motion made you bounce. “-then we can say all kinds of things to each other.”

The facial expression on the bard changed in an instant, his expression shifting from innocent and eager to knowing and darkly tempting. “Tell me, sweetheart,” he said, his voice dropping an octave, “Are you always as demanding as you were just now, or was that just an act?”

You knew what he was asking, and part of you wanted to tell him that he’ll have to show up at The Honeybee if he wants to find out, but something in you also wanted him to know the answer to that question- wanted him to know so many things about you it made your head spin.

“I can go either way and have a great time regardless.” you replied, smiling sweet as a spoonful of honey, and the devilish grin that he gave you in return took the breath from your lungs.

“Perfect.” he practically growled, “What’s your name?”

You told him, and the way he repeated it on his lips had you pressing your thighs tightly together. “And your name is?”

“Eddie.” he smiled.

You grinned in return. “Eddie.” you repeated. His name tasted like whiskey and cinnamon on your tongue. “I’ll see you tonight, then.”

To your surprise, Eddie laughed raucously, hopping back a few paces. “Oh, on the contrary, fair barmaid!” With a flourish, he swung his guitar from his back to his front, strumming a few chords in rapid succession and plucking them in a melody that showed a level of skill that you hadn’t been expecting. After a moment of music, he stopped short and looked up at you with a mischievous twinkle in his eye. “Mark my words, my love- you’ll see me again before tonight and you will- without a doubt- hear me before you see me.”

You let out a surprised laugh, fingers flying up to your mouth to block an obnoxious guffaw from escaping your lips. That only spurred Eddie on more. He made a sort of swatting motion with his hand, gesturing toward your own hand at your mouth. “Away, thou evil hand! How dare ye venture to hide the sweetest of smiles that does bloom on a flower such as this?” He plucked away at his instrument dramatically, as if doing so were a declaration of war. You couldn’t help but humor him, grabbing the offending hand with your other one and firmly clasping both in your lap.

Eddie smiled, still strumming his guitar. “Aye, and stay away! For there are far better things for pretty hands to do than hide even prettier faces.” He waggled his eyebrows up and down as he began to walk away with his friends.

Your jaw dropped as you let out a good natured scoff. “And what would the noble bard suggest I do with my pretty hands?” you knew that you practically yelled it, and it caused a few other guests to glance your way questioningly; you didn’t care, it certainly wasn’t the strangest thing you’d said today.

Eddie’s cackle rang out through the air like electricity during a storm, and your heart did a little backflip when he spun around once before facing you one last time before he was out of your line of sight. “Oh, my lady-” he called, smiling unabashedly, “-I humbly suggest you find the biggest can you have, think of me-” and then the motherfucker winked, “-and use your imagination.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x reader #renaissance faire #naughty wench #rip-quizilla

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yenonnoff · 5 months

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TEACH ME HOW TO LOVE! 22. 2 people, 1 truth

note: word count is 3.8k :D

“they really are little rascals, especially this one!” atsumu huffed with an orange kitten pressed against his chest. you found him near an alleyway and were currently walking back to april’s store.

it was a convenience store, and she used the second floor as her living space. after you were banned from eating the snacks at your parents’ place, you started hanging out at april’s more often. she always gave you the snacks for free and you spent most of your childhood there: in april’s store next to her floor fan as customers came and went.

“you’re back!” april rushed out in a hurry, reaching to pet the kitten still in your arms. “their mom’s in the back with the other younglings so i’ll need to wash them. but before that, tell me how i can repay the two of you.”

you rushed to decline. “no, no. don’t worry about it, we did this because we just wanted to help.”

april laughed heartily. “then thank you, darling, for helping me find the kittens.” she smiled towards atsumu, “and thank you… y/n’s boyfriend. looks like i never got your name!” she erupted again in buoyant laughter.

your co-star returned her smile. “it’s atsumu miya, nice to meet you.” his response garnered an elbow to the side from you. “he’s not my boyfriend, just a coworker,” you clarified quickly.

her excitement didn’t fade, a sly twinkle shining in her aged eyes. she grabbed the kittens from you and atsumu, the two troublemakers tugging insistently at her floral blouse. “we’ll continue this later, they’re really impatient aren’t they?”

when april left, you and atsumu occupied the bench in front of the store. he stretched and yawned. “what were you saying about your parents before you got cut off?” he asked curiously.

“oh, my parents aren’t here anymore. we moved to miyagi prefecture when i got to high school, and they stayed there after i moved to tokyo for university.”

“must’ve been hard when their only child left,” he said, lifting a brow when you laughed. “not at all,” you replied. “i was a handful to them, they were glad i left.”

growing up, a part of you resented your parents for moving away from your hometown. you dreamt of everything: attending a nearby high school and keeping up with your studies—going home and helping the residents with their tasks around town. it was the perfect harmony, and it was shattered due to your parents.

you realized later it was because they hated everything the town stood for: peace, gaiety, and the ability to melt your heart. they must’ve hated the cool summers too—the long family walks through town after supper where you admired wildflowers in the sidewalk cracks. they must’ve hated the colorful peonies in the spring and the lively tradition where all the residents came together to have one big picnic in the field. you still remembered it so vividly. each household needed to bring something special (music, toys for the kids, food, or drinks) to be able to participate. once, your parents said you were their special item and the residents exploded in cheerful laughter and agreement. looking back, you wondered how true that actually was of your parents.

they were bored of the place they grew up in, and they tossed it away without even asking you. they threw their friends away, the memories they made with everyone, and—worse of all—they desecrated your love for the town and its people.

you’d cried during departure, watching as everyone bore smiling faces in an attempt to uplift yours. you hadn’t cried in years, and you were about to attend high school. you saw them hand you gifts—all the things you loved and things that’ll remind you of your true home. you hoped they knew you weren’t the one who wanted to leave; you hoped they knew it was because your parents hated their kind generosity.

“i hated leaving my hometown behind. if i could, i would’ve stayed with them while my parents left. i would’ve been okay without them. but when i got to my new school, things started to get better,” you said, fidgeting with the palm of your hand. “i excelled at my classes and made new friends. they filled an empty part in me and i was able to be with them 24/7 through volleyball.” you paused for a moment. “but my parents didn’t like that. they didn’t like it when i went to my team’s matches to support them, they didn’t like that i was barely home with them.”

atsumu remained silent while you talked. his back was pressed against the wall and his shoulder was touching yours. his silence comforted you, his warmth made you continue. “i think they realized it was out of their control now, that when i went off to university, they wouldn’t have to deal with me anymore. i saved up money from my part-time job and moved to tokyo with my friends. my parents stopped calling me afterwards, but i still send money back home to them.”

you choked back a sob, chuckling at the weird situation: you pouring your feelings out to your attentive co-star. you avoided looking at him.

“what about your aunt april? couldn’t you have stayed with her?”

you laughed quietly. “she’s not my real aunt, her husband isn’t my real uncle either. they just treated me really nicely, like i was a part of their family. actually, they were my parents’ rivals. the town only needed one convenience store and i guess my parents were the ones who left. maybe they didn’t like how welcoming aunt april treated me, but i knew she never wanted us to leave. and i never wanted to be seen as a burden to them. they already had so much on their plate, i just couldn’t invade their lives like that.”

atsumu hummed. “but if you had asked, they would’ve accepted in a heartbeat.” you smiled sadly—what he said was true.

you couldn’t help but imagine what your life would’ve been like if you’d stayed. you would’ve been happy, you would’ve continued to stay in your hometown after graduation, maybe even become a farmer. you would’ve been surrounded by people who loved you and familiar sights. but you would’ve never met shimizu and the others. you would’ve never realized the wonders of living in a big city filled with opportunities. you wouldn’t be acting. you wouldn’t have met atsumu and experienced all of this.

when you realized that silence took over the conversation, you attempted a weak smile. “well! enough of me—”

“you don’t have to hide it, y/n,” atsumu said. “you can be unprofessional too.”

your heart staggered. hot tears threatened to fall and you only said, “it’s okay, i don’t want to talk about it right now.”

atsumu nodded at your response, sitting up more casually. you were grateful when he started talking: “it’ll be unfair if i didn’t tell you about myself too, right?” he stopped briefly to think. “my brother and i were adamant about volleyball during high school. awards, summer camps, interhigh, nationals—you name it. being recognized for your incredible setting skills had its perks,” he winked and you laughed. “i got some modeling gigs and then eventually went into acting.”

you listened intently to him as he spoke. there was always something about atsumu. was it his assertiveness or the way he naturally drew people in? you had a feeling it was both. the more time you spent with him, the more you wanted to know about him.

“the first time i scored a big role, i was confused by how happy i felt. i remembered the amount of compliments they gave me, not only for my acting skills but for volleyball as well. ‘a real talent,’ they’d told me once, and it made me want to continue acting. i struggled here and there with getting roles, mainly due to my inexperience, but it was a challenge i wanted to overcome. i felt the same amount of frustration when messing up a scene as passing a bad set. i felt the same amount of joy too, so it was difficult to decide which path i wanted to take after high school.”

you asked when he became silent, “how did your parents react?”

he didn’t turn to look at you but you saw his lips pulled into a grim smile. “horrible,” he said. “‘samu wanted to pursue culinary arts and i wanted to focus on acting. my parents knew i had some roles during high school but they didn’t like that i wanted to do it professionally. my mom was clinging onto the chance that i would continue volleyball unlike my brother.” atsumu tightened his hands, his expression hard and dour. “but they didn’t realize that i was still playing, just not competitively. i didn’t compromise my love for it, never did.”

you felt a strange pull of admiration. you could hate atsumu all you want for his actions, but you could never hate the confidence he radiated. you’ve seen it before: at the script read through and on the first day of filming. when he stepped on set, reading his lines with such certainty and zeal, your eyes didn’t want to look away. so this was atsumu miya, you thought. this was the highly praised atsumu—the side he proudly chose to display.

but right now, he was just atsumu, regular atsumu. he was another person that went through things like everyone else. you had believed vehemently before that your co-star was only capable of hate and disdain. that he could only conjure up sly, distasteful frowns. now he was more human than you thought.

“i’m sorry,” was all you could say in response. atsumu shook his head, his eyes downcasted. “it got better eventually, it’s been a couple years and they’ve come around.”

he continued: “it took a lot to convince them and myself that it was the right choice. i didn’t land any major roles for a year straight.”

you blinked. who wouldn’t want atsumu on their production? even if this happened years ago, atsumu already had a couple major roles under his belt. you had a feeling it wasn’t him or his skills that were at fault.

“a fucking year straight,” he spat his words venomously. “i practiced everyday until my body gave up, and for what? some rich insecure pieces of shit to come by and flaunt their money in the director’s face? i didn’t want anything to stop me from acting except my skills.”

you imagined atsumu practicing his lines over and over again until he was satisfied. you saw him beating himself up for every mistake he would make. to atsumu, it must’ve felt like preparing for a volleyball match: setting and serving until he could no longer—until his exhausted body begged him to stop. it felt vivid to you. after all, you were both hardworking perfectionists, and you were both treading through an industry where the rich reigned and the skilled surrendered.

for a year straight, atsumu dealt with this. he couldn’t do anything, powerless to change the directors’ decisions.

you stared at him with a pained expression. “bribery,” you said meekly and he nodded. “just like what emma did.”

“so you knew,” he said, low and accepting.

“yes, i did, about her bribing director sage. but i wanted to hear it from you, not from a friend or anywhere else.”

he nodded and you braced yourself for what was about to come. “i didn’t know at first, no one did except for the director and committee team. you wouldn’t have expected her to do something like that: she was nice and endearing, even to the staff members. but i always questioned why director sage was so hard on her. it wasn’t as if she lacked talent. she was good—well, good enough, i suppose. then i realized what it was about her. she had talent but not skills from experience. whenever filming lasted longer than it should’ve due to her, everyone was forgiving. they ignored her issues because she was nice and pretty.”

you swallowed at his words. with money, you could buy opportunities, but not skills and experience that are on par with actors who’ve been doing it for way longer. you couldn’t, unless you knew how to adapt—unless you were a quick learner. emma was none of those things.

you watched atsumu rub his hands against his face, a sorrowful chuckle leaving his lips. “there were signs and i was blind to them. i only focused on her, thinking how amazing she was. she only had two years of experience so her mistakes were understandable. but this was a director sage film. his standards were fucking crazy. how did she land the main role if not for bribery and blackmail?”

you had to confess, after returning from the trip to the record store slash beach, you finally watched director sage’s latest film. it aired two years ago but was one of his most popular works ever. emma had the main role but surprisingly, atsumu was only the second lead. he didn’t have much screen time but whenever he appeared in a scene with emma, you felt your heart stop, your breath hitching in your throat. their chemistry was otherworldly, and you understood why the whole internet went into chaos when they broke up. if you had watched this two years ago, you would’ve rooted for them too.

“oh, but,” he quickly turned towards you, saying softly, “don’t blame director sage too much. it was his choice to make, but there were devastating circumstances. if he didn’t accept emma’s bribe, there would’ve been no film. her father would’ve cut off all the budget, including the ones from other companies. a single word from him would’ve cost director sage his career.” atsumu’s eyes turned dark and discernible. “i’m not saying his choice was right. emma forcibly stole opportunities from other aspiring actors and director sage helped her to do so. but still… he was in a difficult situation.”

there was affection in his voice when he said the last sentence. you’ve seen them interact many times before, and it always occurred to you how easily atsumu laughed and smiled in the director’s presence. they both adored one another dearly, both having fond memories of working together years ago.

“don’t worry, i don’t,” you reassured him. “but when i came, you thought i also blackmailed him. you thought director sage was put in another difficult situation.” you weren’t angry at him, you only stated frankly what had happened. but the latter pained atsumu more than the former. he wished you would yell at him or be in a fit of rage again (like your confrontation at the beach) because he knew he was wrong. he messed up and you were the one that was hurt.

but you didn’t fault him, not after hearing about everything. atsumu was distrusting, both towards you and the acting industry. how could he not? the person he was in love with had betrayed her morals and his trust.

“you’re right,” he said. “i was too quick to blame you. i judged you without knowing anything and spoke about you badly when i wasn’t any better. you were none of the things i claimed you were. you’re incredible, you know that? you made those four idiots fall in love with you on the first day of filming. you made director sage fall in with you. and you reminded me what good acting was. it was exhilarating to see someone with the same amount of passion as me. i fell in love with acting again just by watching you act.”

your cheeks burned at his words. you’ve received compliments before but it was different when your unapproachable and grumpy co-star said it.

atsumu shifted to face you, both of your feet pointing in each other’s directions. “so i’m sorry, y/n. i’m sorry for dragging you into this, you were never the problem. what those staff members said were true: i am extremely cocky and pretentious, i’m hasty and reckless with both my actions and words. and i had hurt you greatly. could you forgive me?”

you felt his vulnerability, his hesitant gaze on you. it wasn’t his fault, you wanted to say. it was okay.

“i could, and i will. you’re forgiven, atsumu.” you waited another moment to say, “not everything the staff members said was true. you’re not undeserving of your role or fame.”

“did they say that too?”

you nodded and his eyebrows pinched together. “they said that because of my relationship with emma. after the film aired, everyone in the industry knew. some felt stronger about it than others; some could care less because it was so normalized; and some even praised her for being rich and having connections. it’s gross. if you don’t have the skills to earn your roles fairly through auditioning, you’re pathetic. instead of using that money to drag the director and your co-stars down, you should be spending it on acting classes.”

you had to tug on his arm to get his attention. you didn’t mind his rant, but you were too curious about what that had to do with him being labeled “undeserving.”

atsumu caught your eye and said, “oh, right. emma and i broke up a year after the film. we didn’t tell anyone what the reason was, but the bribery part was only half the story. those staff members were the same ones i worked with all those years ago. they saw how emma and i were—probably thought i was the same blackmailing fox as her.” he let out another low chuckle. “or maybe that i used my connection with director sage to my advantage. or that i already had my chance to work with him, and that another person should’ve gotten the opportunity.”

in your eyes, atsumu was never undeserving. director sage picked him for the lead role because he truly believed atsumu was worthy of it. you’d heard from kuroo that atsumu came out of his year-long break because of director sage. he just wanted to work with his favorite director again. atsumu had the confidence and skills to do so. what was so wrong about that?

you patted him on the shoulder. “it’s not true, everyone knows it’s not. don’t be so hard on yourself.” your words made him laugh. a genuine one this time, it wasn’t sorrowful or somber like the previous ones.

“thank you,” he said. “i’ll take it easy. i didn't think this trip would become so sentimental. did i bore you?” he asked mischievously. you shook your head no, the two of you exchanging pleasant smiles.

you stretched your arms. how long were the two of you sitting on the wooden bench anyway? the sun was disappearing and leaving behind a trail of vibrant vermillion in its wake. it was already five o’clock.

when the two of you peeked inside the convenience store, you saw april talking with her husband by the cash register. she noticed you two, turning to say, “there they are! did you have fun out there?”

apparently she had finished washing the kittens a long time ago, even having enough time to prepare dinner. a large dinner, enough to feed an army. “we didn’t want to interrupt the sweet moment so we waited,” april beamed while you, atsumu, and her husband followed behind on the staircase.

atsumu whispered to you, “should i be here?”

you nodded. after all, april’s homemade meals were the best. no amount of restaurants could compare, you knew he would be missing out if he didn’t give it a try.

thankfully, dinner wasn’t awkward. april’s husband got along well with your co-star, minus the first interaction when he’d mistaken him for your boyfriend. it was becoming a running joke but you didn’t mind. you finally had the chance to sit down and talk to april and her husband, reminiscing about what happened during the time when you didn’t visit. you mentioned your previous film—vengeance—and the two of them chatted about your amazing performance. apparently everyone in town stopped what they were doing to watch it the day it aired. they were your first ever supporters after all.

you also mentioned your friends, to which april smiled in relief. then you talked about your new film and gestured towards atsumu, your co-star who was caught off guard with food stuffed in his mouth. you left out all the bad parts in your story, focusing mainly on your “friendly” competition at the amusement park and the fun trip to the record store slash beach. you also mentioned jolie and the others, even director sage and how he looked better in person.

atsumu got to talk too: about his twin brother and their volleyball experience during high school. atsumu boasted about being the number one setter and april’s husband, who you’ve known since childhood, brought up unexpectedly about how he’d played once as well.

“captain of my team,” he laughed with his whole body. “that was my prime.”

it got to the point where all the dirty dishes were cleaned off the table and april brought out peeled tangerines. you got to play with the kittens while atsumu and april’s husband continued to converse about volleyball. it was endearing and bittersweet that the two of you had to leave. you wanted to freeze the moment—you’d forgotten how nice it felt to be back in your hometown.

“must you go already?” april asked, standing at the door of her convenience store. her husband chimed in, “if they don’t catch the train, they’ll be stuck here.”

she nudged him with an annoyed expression. “that’s what i’m trying to do.” she turned back towards you. “the whole town’s excited for your new film, y/n. we’ll definitely watch it so make sure to visit again. you as well, atsumu.”

the two of you thanked them for dinner, saying your farewells and heading to the train station.

“thank you for bringing me here,” atsumu said as you waited on the platform.

“did i one up you? be honest.”

he replied hesitantly, “yes. i have to admit your hometown is pretty nice.”

“then let me borrow your jacket again on the train.”

“oh? you’re finally gonna go to sleep?”

your eyes widened in embarrassment. “you knew?” he smirked at your dazed expression. “how could i not? kind of hard when you were wriggling in your seat trying to get comfortable.”

“i will fall asleep this time. today’s been really exhausting.”

atsumu peered down at you, saying, “good work today, y/n, and…”

he didn’t get to finish his sentence, interrupted by the roaring of the approaching train. you stepped inside, turning to ask, “what did you say?”

“nevermind,” he smiled. “let’s get to our seats before we both fall asleep standing up.”

atsumu had told you many things today, but the unspoken ones might’ve been the most important. he wanted to tell you again that he was sorry for everything. and he wanted to tell you that he was glad you were his co-star.

masterlist ⌒☆ previous ⌒☆ next

fun facts:

director sage did NOT like working with emma one bit, but he made sure to hide his disdain at all times.

when atsumu went to audition for director sage's previous film, he went with a friend of his. she practiced for the main role relentlessly but her audition didn't pass. atsumu always held a grudge towards emma for stealing his friend's chance; if it weren't for her, his friend would've gotten the role. she was a better actress than emma anyway.

y/n and atsumu took a million pictures of the kittens. there were five of them! she sent them all to the group chat for them to gawk at.

TEACH ME HOW TO LOVE! ｡ｏ♡ an atsumu miya smau

synopsis: when y/n l/n, a rising actress, decides to star in a romance film that could make or break her career, she’s unable to showcase her skills, revealing her inexperience within the romance department instead. worst of all, atsumu miya, her co-star and the main lead’s love interest, seems to hate her guts! with absolutely, unbearably zero chemistry between the two, an idea was proposed: spend time with one another in the upcoming weeks. will y/n be able to ignore her professionalism and listen to her heart? and will she, a clueless romantic, be able to pick up on the signs her co-star is sending her?

a/n: FINALYL FINISHED UGHHH I SWEAR THIS TOOK AN ETERNITY hoped u liked y/n and atsumu's backstories + his very heartfelt apology + emma being a very bad person

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