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The absolute power I feel from walking into a Guitar Center, going straight to the bass section, and then playing the Home Depot theme song on different basses.
#it was great nobody actually noticed though#the people there were really nice though because i was awkwardly hovering by the basses and then this older guy#was like ‘feel free to play any of these if you want it’s hands on there are some capos there and the amp is on’#both not assuming that i’ve never played before but also not being condescending if i hadn’t#guitar center#bass#bassist#dante dicit#i’ve actually been thinking about going back to guitar and getting an electric guitar but i saw the guitar wall there#and i was just so off put by how small they are#i play acoustic guitar usually so the body size makes up for the really short neck/scale/idk the word#but like WOW electric guitars look like they’re for small children to learn guitar for the first time…
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took the train from Seattle to Vancouver solely so I could go see Andrew Bird play live: absolutely worth it!!! fuckin fantastic concert. so good
#he is my fav#this is my first time plannin a trip as a Broke Disabled Adult#ive never had the cash before :0#one of the best concerts Ive been to regardless. the acoustics in the venue were super super nice#also I got a balcony seat where it was literally just me and my mom so my agoraphobia did not activate. yes!!!! yes!!!!!!!#apollo's anecdotes
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ok this is my beef rn and i CAN'T belive im defending fucking taylor swift of all people. but like. people who are like 'stop saying taylor swift and phoebe bridgers are gay mental illness music. real gay mentally ill people will eat you alive' or whatever because??? there IS a significant part of gay people who like these artists. like. i don't even listen to either of those and i am known to not particularly like taylor, but she very much DOES have a gay fanbase. like. you might find your own taste more 'refined' or whatever but that doesn't mean that YOUR music taste is characterizing what gay mentally ill people listen to? it's very much giving me middle school kid 'i like metal and i'm better than everyone who likes pop' vibes
#myposts#i personally really dont understand why people especially have this hatred for phoebe bridgers#dude like let her make her music#also like i was at phoebe concert (dragged along) and she seems super nice and half of her fanbase are like 40+ men#so like. idk what version of phoebe bridgers yall have in your head where she did you personal harm for making music?#ALSO in the tags of the post i was referring to there were a ton of tags like#'yeah REAL mentally ill gay people listen to [equally cringe white band]'#like. those were 99% of the tags#'real mentally ill people listen to idkhow/arcade fire/lemon demon/etc.'#like. you are not... better than people who listen to acoustic rock?
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I'm having flashbacks to 2015 when I was at the back of a car and got the text of a friend who sent me a super RAW audio file of his first song ever recorded in a studio with his brand new band mates and I got so excited and thought that everything was possible and I cherished that file so much but got my phone stolen from my back pocket at a concert two years later and I lost the stupid file along with the rest of my personal pictures and videos
#ughhhhhhh#worst part is this whole ass memory got triggered by a song that I was listening to in repeat right before he sent me that#we dont even talk anymore#byt THE SONG WAS SO GOOD#I think I might be cursed#it had such a nice acoustic sound to it#idk why that track made me so happy but here were are reminiscing#txt
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My Darling
"Who even is that guy?"
"That's my darling"
----
It starts with a post.
Eddie had posted a photo on Instagram holding his acoustic guitar, cross legged on a chair.
Recently he had been front cover of a magazine of 'him' wrapped around a young woman. Living the Rockstar life.
His agent had suggested he show a more domestic side to him, a softer side.
Hence the acoustic.
It was summer so Steve was off of work and sleeping on the couch behind him, blankets up to his ears. The only thing visible was his hair peeking out and his arm hanging over the side of the couch. A sleeve of tattoos running down it all the way to his knuckles. Eddie loved that arm. He loved the way the tattoo curved around his knuckles like water. His nice, big. veiny hand that-
WOAH off topic.
He had done half the tattoos himself and made sure he payed for it all.It was the least he could do for all Steve has done for him.
They met eight and a half years ago, Steve had seen Eddie play at shitty clubs and recognized his mop of hair getting hit in the alleyway.
Eddie thought he was a goner for sure until Steve ripped the guy off him.
Steve just shot him a smile and complimented his guitar skills.
Eddie fell to his knees. He was gone for him.
He invited Steve to band practice as a thank you since he didn't have much to offer.
Two weeks later they were dating and Steve has been their number one fan since.
When Eddie got the record deal he dedicated everything to Steve.
Everything always was for him. As it should be.
Anyways,
Eddie posted the photo excited to promote the acoustic cover of his hit song 'My Hero, My Darling'.
The comments instantly went ballistic asking who the random man behind him was. He definitely wasn't in the band and why would notorious lady killer Eddie Munson have a man in his house...he couldn't possibly have friends.
Eddie responded to one comment only, knowing the rest would sort itself out.
"That's my darling ❤️"
----
"Eddie," Steve was frowning at him, poking his side with his foot.
"Eddie look at me this is serious."
"Yes my love?"
"You outed yourself. You were doing such a good job keeping this a secret. This will change everything."
Eddie turns over until his holding Steve close to him, his face in his hands.
"Good. I'm tired of hiding you my darling. I'm tired of the accusations."
"But Eddie you OUTED yourself."
"I won't say anything about you, I'd never out you Stevie. But I'm done hiding that I'm a simple man in love."
"...me too. I'm done too."
"Darling are you sure? This is a big deal. What about your school? Your principal?"
"I don't care. Everyone important to me knows. My family, my real family, know and don't care. They do wonder why I've been single for eight years but they'll get over it."
"Marry me."
"What?"
"Marry me oh my god that's the hottest thing I've ever heard. I love you so much please I can't live another moment not having you mine. Besides, if you get fired that's definitely a lawsuit and you know I've been pleasing for you to quit so I can take care of you, but you love those damn kids. Just...be mine...please."
"I've been yours. Since the start. Since always." They both have tears in their eyes.
"Yes?"
"YES OF COURSE YES!"
They're giggling through their kisses.
---
"Heeeeyyy everyone thanks for joining my live. I have something super important to inform you on! I'm getting married!!!!!"
The comments instantly flood in questioning him on moving too fast, asking if he's on drugs. The usual.
"Oooooh you guys have no idea."
----
The photo goes up an hour after the live ends.
It's Steve sitting on the couch, glasses on, red pen in his mouth. He's wearing a thick sweater and grumbling grading papers.
He looks so soft, so smooth, it's Eddie's favorite picture. The next picture in the carousel is Steve backstage at his concert. They're holding onto each other like they need each other to breathe.
The last picture is a selfie taken minutes after. Eddie with his stage makeup sweating off his face smiling brightly at the camera. and Steve kissing his cheek. Eyes squinted shut and eyeliner thick, he had worn it as a treat for Eddie.
It was well received.
The caption reads:
"I'm so happy to announce I'm marrying my best friend and partner of eight years! Everyone meet my darling. Steve is a local middle school teacher who has literally saved my life more than once. He saved my heart. God, I love him so much.
P.s. yes the tours are in the summer so Stevie can travel with us. I'd never leave him."
---
Bonus engagement edition:
"YOU'RE GETTING MARRIED TO EDDIE MUNSON?!"
"Yes. We've been over this."
Eddie stuck out his hand to shake, "hi, Eddie Munson, nice to meet you."
"YOU HID THIS FOR EIGHT YEARS?!"
"Yes."
"I'M BASICALLY YOUR BROTHER! HE'S MY FAVORITE CELEBRITY!"
"Yes Dustin and you can't keep a secret."
"...fair...welcome to the family."
*inspired by my friend only learning her cousin was marrying someone famous when he showed up to Thanksgiving and she lost her mind
#steddie modern au#teacher steve harrington#rockstar eddie munson#famouseddiemunson#steddie#strangerthings#eddie munson#steve harrington#steddie fic#social media au#ficlet#fluff
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NSFW LOGAN HOWLETT HEADCANONS
fem!reader, mdni. 1k words
I have a problem, I don’t even know what to say anymore
also each era of him is so different?? and I couldn’t decide what one to stick with, so these are kinda all over the shop. but the premise of his character is the same
✮ foreplay hcs:
heavy on foreplay. likes to kiss and touch on you, very very slow to work you up. he takes his time, kissing at your neck and squeezing at your thighs. pawing at your hips if you’re sitting on his lap. he's teasing and playful: slaps and grabs your ass when you go by, holds your tits when hugging you from behind, kisses your neck when you’re cuddling on the couch. nothing has to even come from it, he just likes the intimacy of casual foreplay
✮ oral hcs:
he does this thing where before you suck him off, he’ll hold his dick and line his head over your lips. just guiding a bead of precum over your mouth, outlining the plump of each lip before easing in and gliding across your tongue. heavy on eye contact as he does it! and when your lips wrap around him, he’ll hold your face. large hands cupping your cheeks, thumbs brushing over the apples as you relax your mouth more and more around him. he’ll hold your hair, pushing it out of your face and keeping your eyes clear
he’s mean and teasing when he eats you out. takes forever to give you what you want. kisses and nibbles your inner thighs for ages, licks over the fabric of your underwear just beside your clit, brushes his beard just over your pubic bone just to watch you twitch. he holds your hands as he teases you just so you can’t grab and hold his face. makes you wait for it! and when he does give in, it’s so so good you forget why you were even wound up in the first place. he also curls his tongue up inside, just saying. like he actually eats you out! makes out with your puss, kisses it, slobbers on it, spits on it, gently taps it, strokes over your thighs to calm you if it gets too much, kneads into your hips, whispers into it, praises you, verbally cherishes you, holds your thighs to his head so you can’t squirm away
✮ position hcs:
he likes sex in the shower and holding you against the tiles. loves how the water beads on your chest and how good you feel pressed against him under the water. likes when you grab onto him when you lose balance and footing, digging into his back and shoulders. the acoustics! moans and slap like noises reverbing!!
cowgirl on the couch is another good one. likes to bury his face in your tits and grab and squeeze at your back. he likes it when you think you’re in control, when really you’re not. he lets you rock and wind over him, trying your best to cum before your knees give in. but he’d help out bc he’s nice – holding your hips slightly in the air as he slumps his position and then just fucks up into you
prefers missionary. likes to look you in the eyes while you fuck. likes to have you wrapped around him (arms and legs). it’s good for all hours of the day: early morning, before a nap in the middle of the day, late at night. gets to fuck you nice and slow and deep. loves when you moan and whine against his lips. he gets to swallow your sounds and play with your hair and touch your tits and hold your thighs and and and AND
when he’s doing you from behind, he has one hand on your hip the other on the back of your neck and his fingers trail up into your hair and grabs gentle fistfuls of hair
✮ random hcs (bc I can’t stop):
gentle lover! softly dominant!
can go a fair few rounds bc of crazy stamina
when he’s fucking you (on top) he... rests his forehead against yours!! softly grunts against your lips!! kisses your cheek and chin and nose!! whispers praises and compliments against your lips!! sandwiches his chest to yours!! hikes your legs over his shoulders or hips or thighs!! he’s slow with the strokes and occasionally surprises you with a snappy jab!! buries his face in the crook of your neck when you do the same to him!! bruises your throat with kisses!! sucks your nipples and kisses your tits!! digs into your hips!!
you have to cum at least once before he even gets his dick out. they’re not my rules, sorry
holds your face when you fuck. very handsy and grabby. touchy and always holding some part of you. wandering hands
he loves the sound of the bed when you fuck. the headboard slamming against the wall and the bed frame creaking in the same rhythm as his thrusts
thigh riding anyone?
he plays with your clit too. either strumming it in a similar rhythm to strokes or with a vibrator pressed up against you. he kinda sandwiches it between you so he can feel it against his base
he grunts and groans but they’re often hushed and hoarse bc he’s not overly vocal. he’s not quiet, but he’s not loud. a good balance to let you know that it feels good
he’s an actual man. not a pussy footing dude that doesn’t know what he’s doing. he’s also ancient and he’s been around (what a whore) but that just further aids his experience
he can handle you if you’re bigger than him. again, he’s a man. he knows what he’s doing and can assure you forever and forever if you don’t believe it. like the “what about it?” attitude and its so hot
he weaponises his happy trail and biceps bc he knows you love them. and he does it to either make you forgive him if you’re pissed at him or tease you when you’re busy
he knows casual acts of strength and dominance turns you on. so he holds things for you, opens things for you, carries things for you, brings you things, makes you things. big on acts of service and physical touch!! but also! he doesn’t do those things bc he thinks something may come of it. he’s just like that and he wants to take care of you
king of “oh, yeah,”s and “I know,”s and “mhm-hm,”s and “that’s it,”s and “fuck,”s. smooth dirty talker
aftercare is TOP NOTCH btw!
gonna go cry in my pillow. also apologies if this is ass, I had word vomit and had too many ideas at once
#logan howlett#logan howlett smut#logan howlett headcanon#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett x fem!reader#logan howlett x you#logan howlett xmen#logan howlett fanfiction#logan x reader#logan xmen#wolverine x reader#wolverine smut#deadpool and wolverine#xmen x reader
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oh, but you're good to me -s.r.
a/n: i continue to not know the word count- but here's pining!spencer x sunshine!reader!! very hozier coded <3
The team has gone out for drinks after a stressful week, and this is a moment where Spencer finds that his willpower does not so easily overpower his desire. They’d chosen a kind of kitsch place, the kind where there’s couches where waitresses could bring you your drink under dimmed lights and music with cozy acoustic music played. Emily and Morgan were comparing conquests at their trip to the club the week prior, Penelope chiming in with warm support on either end. On the opposite table, Hotch and Rossi were discussing criminology in serious, even tones.
And Spencer, well. He was well-occupied.
His best friend is on the team, and he does not say that lightly. She’s earned her place in his heart, as hopelessly romantic as that makes him sound. But she did. He remembers the day he met her, warm tone seeped in patience and understanding.
He remembers the sight of her like its engraved crystal, carved into the basis of his mind. Her delicate features distinct in their warm kindness. She’d offered her hand, shook it and giggled a sweet sound when he’d said it’d be safer to kiss. He’d blushed enough that his lack of flirtation in his intent was clear.
On the jet, that first case, she’d listened to him talk about Russian literature and other obscure topics he couldn’t remember now, because now, all he can recall is the color of her doe eyes meeting him in intention.
He’s pretty sure he’s in love with her.
Which, right now, feels a bit like a drug- both painful and exhilarating. She’s a cuddly drunk (only with him, it seems) and he’s got a lanky arm tugged over her shoulder. It’s lovely in a way words vex him, the weight of her against him.
“You look nice today, Spence,” she muses, looking up at him. His heart is going to stop.
“You do too,” he breathes out. This is nice. She’s touchy, and he likes when she touches him. It’s a pleasure, like sipping expensive wine or decadent chocolate, sweet and a little bit sad, because you know you can’t have it forever.
She plays with his scarf, and he is hopelessly endeared by the sight of the fabric in between her delicate fingers.
“This color is nice,” she muses, and god, he wants to kiss her. This a thought Spencer has often, oftentimes at inopportune times. On the jet, in the office, at her house, in the car- always, really.
Except now, no one’s looking at them. If loving her was enough to make her love him back, then he could.
But it isn’t.
He chokes back the emotion rich in his throat. He brushes her hair out of her face, a tender motion that betrays his intentions with her.
“You always look lovely,” Spencer says earnestly. I love looking at you, he thinks.
She smiles back earnestly and warmly.
“I didn’t think you noticed things like that.”
“I always do, when it’s you.”
He doesn’t know why this is what he’s allowed to have. She’s so close to him, pinned up against him and he can feel the curve of her waist against his side. He doesn’t get it, why he’s not her boyfriend but he still gets moments like these, where she’s pinned to him like velcro. He’s addicted to them, really- craves the moments where she falls asleep on his lap on the jet, where they’ll be walking together somewhere and she’ll lace their fingers and tug him along when she’s excited and the destination in sight.
Maybe this is just how she touches her best friends- he tries not to question it, because he doesn’t want to loosest.
But tonight, under the low-light of the bar, shadows of her lashes thrown across the slope of her cheek- he wants to ask her.
“Are you like this with everyone?” He muses. He immediately regrets it, sees her face harden and feels the shift away from him, and the space leaves a gap of cold air. There’s a swoop f nerves in his stomach.
“I don’t know, I think I just thought- you know, we’re like this. We’re touchy, you and me.”
He’s not touchy. Everyone knows this, but she’s the exception to a rule that has held true his entire life. But he loves this, loves the feeling of this.
“I like this,” he says, intentional eye contact trained on her shaking irises. He reaches out and laces their fingers in an act of bravery that rivals some of his most intense moments, “I’m wanting inf you want more of it. Because I do.”
“You do?”
She’s back close to him, now, and he’s so immensely grateful for it. She smells like lilies and her, and this might be the only time he’s brave enough to do something like this.
It turns out he doesn’t have to, because before he can answer, she kisses him. It happens fast, and his response is all instinct- pulling her into him closer, his hands around her waist and her soft sigh into his mouth that threatens to kill him. It’s better than his fantasies at night could have made him expect.
“Hi,” she says, barely above a whisper when she pulls away. She looks a little adorably off-guard, in a way he’d like to create- like to instigate.
“Hi back,” he says, a beaming grin threatening to spread over his face. He tries to memorize the feeling of this, the weight of her in his arms in case this is not something he can keep- he wants to remember it, what it felt like for her to kiss him, to be wanted by her.
“Do you want to go out sometime?”
“Like out of here? It’s kind of cold outside-“
“On a date, Spencer.”
Instead of a response, Spencer kisses her again. It is absolutely the right choice.
#spencer reid#spencer Reid fluff#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid x fem!reader#criminal minds#criminal minds x reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#criminal minds fanfic
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𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑢𝑐𝑘 - christopher sturniolo
pairing. sub!chris x dom!reader
genre. smut
⟶ content warnings. explicit content, porn with plot, guitarist!chris, dirty talk, unprotected sex, oral, handjob, dacryphilia, overstimulation, creampie. MDNI
⟶ summary. you never expected to be drawn to your new guitar instructor, finding it hard to concentrate during lessons as your mind wanders. But what unfolds when you find yourself at his house for a lesson?
holy shit.
your breath hitched—eyes moving with reverence across the expanse of the shabby downtown studio you stumbled into. its wooden plank walls were adorned with numerous colorful guitars and basses. a breathtaking musical maze. timber stools had been meticulously placed amongst the lengthy isles, bringing you to a palatial library filled with guitar books.
your fingers ran along the straps of the acoustic guitar case resting snug against your back. as you wandered deep into the studio, your eyes bounced off of the unique furniture and decorative pieces scattered around the area.
you were quickly captivated by faint strumming echoing throughout the building, and with each venturous step inside, the sound seemed to intensify. you curiously spun around the corner of the last isle before halting—all of the air escaped your lungs as you stood, dumbfounded, in front of possibly the most ethereal boy you’ve ever seen.
he sat on a wooden stool, beat up air forces resting against the bottom. his back was hunched over a dark brown acoustic embellished with an intricate pattern along the sound hole—blue eyes trained on his fingers that expertly glided along the fretboard. wavy brunet hair peeked out from his black, lyrical lemonade beanie, and a thin silver chain rested neatly on his neck.
you must’ve startled the poor guy—he jumped after noticing your presence, nearly dropping the precious guitar in his hold.
“s-shit.” he mumbled, swiftly clearing his throat and adjusting his posture.
“i’m sorry about that. you must be my new student!” he smiled professionally before sticking his hand out,
he was your new guitar instructor?
you stretched out your own hand, his much larger one entirely engulfing yours as he shook it. your eyes lingered on his long fingers and neatly trimmed nails, his pretty hands were decorated with attractive veins and silver jewelry. you couldn’t help but imagine how they might feel inside of your pussy, your heart fluttered at the thought.
“my name is chris, nice to meet you.” he stated as he hopped off of his stool, carefully placing the guitar on a nearby stand.
chris. his name seemed so moan-able too, tumbling right off of the tongue like sweet honey.
fuck, everything about him was perfect.
“our lessons will be upstairs, in the private rooms.” your tummy flipped with excitement. you couldn’t trust yourself alone with him, fearing you might pounce on him the very moment he would shut the door behind you.
you followed him up the narrow staircase, the surrounding air tense with sexual frustration—at least for you. your gentle footsteps reverberated around the tapered space as chris led you to a roughed-up door ornamented with multiple stickers consisting of lyrical lemonade, guitars, music artists, you name it.
the interior, however, was plain and simple. holding only a tiny cabinet—filled with books you assume—and a couple of movie posters. two different guitars were leaned against the back wall, a normal acoustic, and a beautiful red electric one. chris chuckled next to you, observing your piqued interest.
“that one’s my favorite.” he nodded his head towards the cherry colored guitar.
“it’s so beautiful.” you remark. he smiled, gazing at you intently. after a sharp exhale, he reached for the acoustic guitar—preparing for your lesson.
the lesson itself was pretty uneventful to say the least, you couldn’t focus on a single thing that chris had instructed you to do, often finding yourself hypnotized by his plump lips or icy blue eyes.
truthfully, chris also found himself to be enamored by you. he found your fascination incredibly endearing. there was something about you that made him eager to learn more.
with each lesson, your bond undeniably deepened—the friendship blooming into something raw and beautiful.
and, with each lesson, chris wanted more. your cute giggles and lengthy conversations would no longer suffice. chris didn’t know what was wrong with him, he knew it was fucked up when he would catch himself slipping a hand past his waistband in the after hours, needy pants and whimpers leaving his desperate lips as his hand would wrap around his base—pretending that it was your own. he felt so dirty, so wrong.
you would be doing the same. pumping two fingers inside of your cunt whenever your mind would drift off to lewd, disgusting thoughts about your guitar instructor—his fingertips that would move so swiftly on the guitar strings would probably feel amazing rubbing against your puffy clit, plus his gorgeous face was way too perfect not to ride. just thinking about him made you giddy and immensely horny.
therefore, it was only natural that your heart would race upon receiving the text he sent you the following day.
the studio is closed today, we’ll have our lesson at my house if that’s okay with you.
*address*
a lesson at his house? you bit your nails nervously before smoothing your hand down the skimpy skirt you had planned to surprise him with. as you drove to his home, the atmosphere was suffused with unbearable silence, the prospect of being alone in his house making you nervous—you pictured him patiently waiting for you in such an intimate setting and it churned your stomach with anxiety.
you rang his doorbell and the door swung open almost immediately. chris’s eyes filled with lust the moment they landed on you, swallowing thickly as he caught sight of the skirt that wrapped so nicely around your thighs. he cursed at himself when he felt his dick grow in his pants.
“c-come in!” chris prayed that you somehow missed his obvious hard-on, stepping aside to allow you to enter while shielding himself with the door. he depravedly watched your hips sway with every step you took—knowing that he needed to control himself before he would make a mess in his pants.
“are we going to be over here?” you gestured towards the couch and small stool positioned in the center of the living room. chris nodded silently in response. what was he thinking? having the girl he fantasized about every night in his fucking living room? chris wished that he could go back in time—he wished that he never met you because fuck, you drove him insane.
and you weren’t stupid. you saw chris’s cock stir in his pants the moment you stepped foot inside, however you had to admit that you absolutely loved playing with him, doing things like stretching purposefully—exposing your navel to his hungry blue eyes.
you sat on the tiny stool, your plump thighs deliciously resting on the wood. chris wanted nothing more than to run his soft hands under your cami shirt—kiss your neck feverishly while grinding his painfully hard dick against you.
“i practiced this piece at home and i just can’t get this chord right.” you pulled your guitar from its case and hugged it tightly, wearing a pout on your face.
“will you help me chris?” you looked at him seductively from under your lashes, a tiny smirk carving its way onto your pink lips. chris gritted his teeth—you had to know what you were doing, right?
“uhm, yeah. this one’s a bar chord so you have to make sure that your pointer finger is pressing down on every string. like this.” chris adjusted his hand and you observed as his fingers curled perfectly around the guitar neck, you squeezed your thighs together in want before a brilliant, filthy idea struck you.
“hmm, i don’t think i get it” you frown, chris watched with wide eyes as you got up from your seat and alluringly strode towards him—moving his guitar out of the way so you could place your ass right on his erection. chris hissed from underneath you, still in shock as he hovered his hands over your hips. he wanted to thrust his hips against you so fucking bad, but he had to be professional. you just needed help, nothing more.
"can you show me now?" you set the guitar back on your lap and gently took hold of chris’s wrist, guiding his fingers to position them over yours on the fretboard. his fingers deftly directed yours to the correct position, while his other hand strummed the chord, its beautiful sound ringing in the air.
you softly bit your lip as you felt his breath tickling your neck, you could smell his aromatic scent—feeling him everywhere. his chest against your back, arms curved around your figure and cock pressing against your soaking wet cunt. you couldn’t help yourself as you ground your hips against his experimentally. chris gasped and placed his hands against you. fingertips curving around your hipbones so he could push your hips back onto his clothed cock. you held the guitar tightly as you rubbed your pussy against him. you felt as if you were going to explode, his teasing touch lingering on your sides.
fuck it.
you swiftly placed the guitar on the ground and flipped around—straddling him. his blue eyes greedily ran themselves down your body, landing on the spot where you intimately connected. your hands ruffled through his long messy hair before pulling at the lone strands—bringing your lips together with fervor. chris moaned, your teeth clashing and noses bumping as your heads nodded into the lust filled kiss.
chris’s hands traveled along your back, pressing gently against your skin as you wrap your arms around his neck and grind your body against him once more. your tits pressed onto him and your perky nipples grazed his chest every so slightly. you disconnected your lips with a soft smack, gazing lazily into each other’s eyes.
“tell me if it’s too much, yeah?” you huffed, placing your hands on his chest. chris hummed in response, eager for you to finally touch him. you leisurely removed yourself from his lap and perched in-between his thighs. your hands land on his belt, pulling it through the loops before yanking it off of his body. chris sat obediently, biting his lips raw—cheeks sprinkled rosy pink.
your fingers hooked themselves on his jeans, sliding them off with ease—and your mouth salivated at the sight of his pretty cock standing painfully against his abdomen, cute pink tip spurting beads of pre-cum. chris dropped his jaw as your thumb found his tip, sliding his slick along his cock. you place your lips on him and tenderly purse your lips around his slit before sliding him further down your throat. chris’s hands shoot to your hair, hips bucking helplessly while pretty little moans spew past his lips. you gently squeeze his balls against your fingertips as you watch him roll his eyes back in pleasure.
“f-fuck!” chris pants out, your acrylic nail slides its way along the base of his cock before you wrap your fingers around him, pumping him painfully slow while you hollow your cheeks. the movement of your hand gradually increases, constant squelches of chris’s slick filling the room. you pull away until your mouth was occupied with just his tip, sucking on it harshly and pushing his hips down when they would buck against your mouth, you observe his desperate gasps and pants as he got closer and closer to the edge.
it wasn’t long before lengthy, thick ropes of chris’s cum squirted down your throat. the slightly salty taste on your tongue ripping a moan from your lips, chris squirmed with overstimulation as the noise vibrated against his cock.
he looked so pretty with his face fucked out, lashes fluttering on his pink cheeks and chest heaving with every breath he took. you wanted to ruin him. please him so well that all he would be able to do is sit there and take it like a good boy.
you prod your fingers at his lips before pushing them past, watching as he sucked on them with hooded eyes—plump lips resting against your skin.
your lips curled into a smirk, abruptly pulling your fingers out and rubbing the palm of your hand against his sensitive tip. chris yelped and arched his back deliciously, body squirming against the couch as your palm pushed deeper. your fingers curled around him—digging your thumb in his slit. chris cried out, eyes pooling with tears of absolute pleasure. he squeezed them shut and sobbed, the welled up tears sliding down his cheeks as he came again. the warm spurts striking your hand and ruining his shirt.
“can you handle another one?” you stood up, straddling his hips once more. chris nodded and pushed his lips against yours, whining into every smack of your lips. you drag your hands underneath his spoilt shirt, peeling it off of his body. your other hand pushed your thong to the side before stretching your precious cunt over his cock. you both moan in unison as you begin to rock your hips—hands trailing up his chest to pinch his nipples between your fingers. chris winces and leans his head against the couch, your hips swiveling on his cock while you pinned his wrists against the cushions. you were so close, capturing his lips in a kiss when you finally felt yourself fall apart, chris’s cock twitched inside of you—filling you spurt after spurt until a ring of white cum leaked around his base.
you fall limp against him, pressing a gentle kiss to his neck.
"that was amazing," chris panted—kissing your cheek as you lay on top of him. you giggled in response, brushing your hand against his jaw.
“i guess we should continue our lesson right?”
a.n.
i cannot even begin to fathom the amount of love my dilf!matt fic got. you guys are actually insane. thank you SO MUCH for reading my works and supporting me, this is such a surreal moment.
also thank you for 300 followers. ALREADY.
but seriously, i’m in shock. thank you guys so much.
tags.
@luverboychris @sturniololvrrs @sturniolo0ntop @deadiish @robins-scoop @ihad-athought @matt444nixi @delooshunalhoe @sturnlover4eva @nwlluvsturnsstars17 @sturni0l0 @pepsiboyy @devscottage @leahsbussy @sturncon @asimp4chris @gdsvhtwa @stvrnmc @bimbob1tch @m0r94n @mattsturnxoxo @themattgirl17 @lauras14567 @ev3rgreenxtrees @autsturni @killuaxgabby @sturniolosarethebest @mattssluttygf @getosuckers @kenzieiskoolaid @fuckshitslover @miabumbia @t77te @futuristicladywonderland @janiellasblog @strnzzvsp @mattsdirtylittlehoe @stvrnmc @ifwfrankocean @sturniolosl0t @madssturniolo @poopydroopt @ilymusic27 @vetej05 @anisahgonzalez @satvisfavetoodles @youtubelover03 @nicksrosetoy @mattsturniolosgirlfriend @matts-whore
i’m so sorry if i couldn’t find you/put you in here, i can only tag 50 of y’all 😭
#chris sturniolo#chris sturniolo smut#christopher sturniolo#matt sturniolo#matt sturniolo smut#nick sturniolo#smut#sturniolo smut#sturniolo x reader#matt sturniolo x reader#sub chris sturniolo#chris smut#chris x reader#matthew sturniolo#sturniolo triplets#sturniolo fanfic#sub matt sturniolo#sub!matt
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Elle have you ever felt the urge to write more swim lessons with the marauders? I’m not usually much of a “part 2??” person but when I read that one I thought it was begging for a continuation. No pressure though!! Only if you feel like it, thanks for writing the first one at all :)
wellllllllll, since you asked so nicely (no but I'd literally do anything for you, just name the price - also, this feels like a full circle moment since the first part was absolutely not heavily influence by my love for your EMT!marauders...........)
swim instructor!marauders x fem!reader who learns that praise kinks are a transferrable skill
find part one here!
CW: joking about drowning each other, nerves surrounding learning how to swim, inappropriate jokes because.....well.....you know.
You had left last week's swim lesson (which you had dubbed your latest near death experience) quite certain you would rather just enjoy the white-sand beaches of the Maldives by the waterline.
That is until perhaps the third time someone joked about bringing you a set of water wings, and the second time someone pointed out the horrid tan lines those would leave on your skin.
So here you were, sitting on a bench in the posh dressing room of the posh country club that your friend’s fiance’s posh family owned as you waited for the rest of the patron’s to clear out of the pool for your private swim lessons.
Oh God, what if you were expected to compensate them for this too?!
You were so consumed in your spiralling - wondering if you could manage to take out a line of credit simply to attend your best friend's wedding - when you heard your name being called into the change room.
“You in there?” You could hear Remus call.
“Yup!” You called back; horrified when your voice cracked. “I’m coming.” You added after clearing your throat.
You reluctantly grabbed your towel and hugged it to your chest as you headed towards the pool.
“There she is!” Sirius called as he spotted you. “Our favourite swimmer!”
“I’ve not actually done any swimming yet.” You corrected quietly. Not quietly enough, unfortunately, as the acoustics in this room seemed to carry your words to the black haired swimmer and his bespectacled counterpart across the entire pool.
“You won’t be able to say that for much longer!” James countered.
Remus apparently noticed the panic look form on your face as he let out a low chuckle. “We’re staying in the shallow end today, love. There’s no need to worry.”
You wanted to be annoyed with him at his incessant use of pet names and endearments, but any ire that may have bubbled in your chest simply vanished when he flashed you a soft, crooked smile.
You watched then as James and Sirius launched themselves into the pool without a second thought whilst Remus gently lowered himself into it from the edge.
You weren’t proud that you had to force yourself to look away from the muscles in his shoulders as they flexed under his weight.
“How tall are you?” Sirius asked then, causing James to gasp dramatically.
“You’re not supposed to ask a lady that, Pads.” He scolded.
“No.” Sirius countered slowly. “You’re not supposed to ask them how much they weigh.”
“I don’t think you’re supposed to ask them anything to do with numbers; weight, age, height.” James continued.
“Age!? What can you ask them?” Sirius beseeched.
“Would you sods shut up?” Remus grumbled.
“Right.” Sirius said then, apparently remembering himself. “I only ask because you should be able to touch the bottom here; why don’t you try getting in like Moony did?”
You felt your brows furrow as you looked at Sirius in bemusement. “Moony?”
“That’s me.” Remus clarified as he let out a sigh of exasperation; you couldn’t help but notice the shy blush that took over his face and threatened to spread to his chest at the moniker, however. “He’s Pads, and James is Prongs. Sometimes. Right now, they’re sod 1 and sod 2.”
His insult was met with one indignant ‘oi!’ and a retaliatory splash. “But what Sirius was trying to say was that it would be good practice getting in and out without a gradient; you said the wedding was in the Maldives?”
You nodded in response.
“You may at times only have the edge of a dock or perhaps a small staircase to get into the water; doing this in the shallow end will help train your body not to go into fight or flight mode each time.”
And while that all sounded well and good, you couldn’t help but look at the water warily.
“Come on.” Sirius encouraged you as he situated himself below you and patted the edge of the pool. “Have a seat, doll.”
You bit back a grumble and did as you were told, sitting on the edge of the pool where Sirius stood between your legs and set his hands on either side of you. “Then you just slide in, and I’ll be here to catch you; got it?”
“Is there gonna be a tattooed bloke in the Maldives to catch me too?” You grumbled to yourself, horrified when Sirius’ bark of laughter alerted you to the fact that you had said that out loud.
“Why, you looking for a date, doll?”
You have got to stop blurting out every thought that enters your mind, especially around these men.
Instead of dealing with your embarrassment, you figured you may as well just try drowning.
Unfortunately for you, the water was shallow and you were tall enough to touch the bottom and Sirius had caught you, so it looked as though you would just have to deal with your embarrassment like a mature adult.
But fuck that.
So instead, you splashed him.
“Oh she’s feisty today.” James commented as Sirius squawked something or other about his hair.
Humour danced behind Remus’ whiskey eyes as he considered you. “Thank you for splashing him so I wouldn’t have to.”
“We should invest in some of those spray bottles for when he’s being a pest.” James called over with a smirk.
Whatever qualms Sirius may have had about his hair seemed to dissipate at the prospect of dunking his mate as he lunged for James and forced them both under the water.
You were mortified to realise you had leaned into Remus’ side to avoid getting tangled up in whatever underwater brawl was taking place; only realising your proximity to the tall swim instructor when he placed a placating hand on your back.
“This is actually what we’re going to be practising today.” He explained as his two counterparts emerged from the water with gasping breaths.
“Drowning each other?”
“Holding our breath.” Remus corrected you with a smirk. “The hope is that you will feel more comfortable in practising if you’re not so worried about what will happen when you’re underwater.”
“We’re gonna have a cheeky seat at the bottom of the pool!” James explained.
You looked to Remus with what you were sure was a ‘you’re kidding me, yeah?’ face who simply smiled at you encouragingly.
“I thought the purpose of swim lessons was to not end up at the bottom of a pool.” You deadpanned.
“The purpose of swim lessons is to avoid ending up at the bottom of a pool, and knowing how to get back up to the surface when you do.” Sirius offered.
“We’ll just lower ourselves to our knees and-”
“My favourite position.” Sirius interrupted Remus’ instructions.
“James?” Remus deadpanned.
“On it.” James answered quickly as he put Sirius in a headlock and dunked them under the water again.
“As I was saying,” Remus continued without the distraction of the other two, “we’ll lower ourselves to our knees, try to count to 10, and then we’ll come back up.”
The other two instructors reemerged at the end of Remus’ sentence and you let out a heavy breath. “I don’t think I can do this.” You admitted quietly.
Any humour and levity seeped from the three men as they circled you protectively.
“No, hey, of course you can!” James offered, trying to imbue some of his eagerness and enthusiasm onto you as he swiped water away from his eyes.
“Why would she trust you, James? You look like nothing but trouble.” Sirius said haughtily as he tried to re-restrain his hair into an elastic.
You were expecting James to squawk in offence, but his face lit up brilliantly as if Sirius had just solved world hunger.
“That’s it!”
“What’s it?” Remus asked warily.
“She doesn’t trust us!” James clarified, which clarified nothing for you at all.
“What! I- no, that’s not true. I…I do trust you, I just-”
“No, no. Not like that angel.” James offered. “I’m sure you trust us enough as employees here, but not necessarily enough to willingly put yourself at risk, right?”
You tried to think of an argument.
You couldn’t.
“Okay, let’s see…oh!” James started as he lowered himself into the water enough that it lapped against his chin. “I was completely broken when my marriage ended, and these two were the only ones who could convince me I wasn’t a complete failure.” He offered casually as if he hadn’t just dropped a significant amount of lore on a near stranger.
“I ran away from home at 16 and James’ family took me in, no questions asked, and have treated me as their own ever since.” Sirius added quickly.
Remus let out a sigh as he looked to the other two in faux exasperation. “And I was a poor scholarship kid attending an elite and posh prep school, and these two did everything they could to make sure no one made me feel insecure about it.”
“All this to say, angel; I’d trust these two with my life, and I think you should too.” James finished.
You let out a steadying breath and nodded your head. “Okay.”
“Yeah?” Sirius smiled.
“Yeah, yes; I can do this.” You decided, mostly speaking to yourself.
“Hell yeah, you can!” James cheered as he splashed the water, Remus muttering something about him being a giant toddler.
“So, you can plug your nose if you’d like; but try to take a deep breath in, and then whilst you’re under water try letting that air out slowly, okay?” Remus instructed then. You felt more than a little discombobulated with all of his attention focused on you.
Sirius demonstrated and you mimicked his actions which earned you a dramatic round of applause.
“Brilliant! You’re gonna rock this.” James assured you quickly.
“‘Course she is.” Sirius scoffed as if James had said something rather outlandish. “She’s been brilliant at everything so far.”
You felt your cheeks heat up near painfully and looked down to the water in hopes that no one noticed you fluster.
Unfortunately for you, it seemed Remus was more observant than you gave him credit for. “You going to be brilliant for us again today, love?”
You felt like it was your turn to scoff. “‘Course I am.” your inner voice echoed Sirius.
“‘Course she is.” James echoed for you; a knowing smirk gracing his lips.
“Ready?” Sirius started as he lowered himself to his shoulders.
You nodded and he started to count down.
At one, you sucked in a deep breath and plugged your nose before plunging yourself into the pool.
You were too buoyant; your body trying to return to the surface immediately after submerging yourself which left you feeling rather panicky, but you saw Sirius blow out dramatic bubbles and decided to do the same, feeling your body slowly sink to allow you to settle onto your knees.
James beamed a smile at you as Remus looked at a stopwatch counting down your seconds.
You realised it wasn’t so bad down here - letting the air out of your lungs left you not feeling as if your body was going to burst from the pressure, and it was beautifully quiet. It reminded you how peaceful you found floating to be just the week before.
You felt a gentle tap on your wrist, noticing Remus pointing upwards.
You stood and suddenly, you were horribly aware of how loud an empty pool could be; the sound of water filtering, the large fans in charge of the humidity levels, and the echoing of the great cavernous space left you feeling slightly homesick for the bottom of the pool.
“That was brilliant!” James cheered as he pulled you roughly into his side.
“You say that as if you’re surprised, Prongs.” Sirius teased gently.
“Of course I’m not surprised, she’s our brilliant student.”
And instead of an embarrassed flush of your cheeks, you felt a simmering pride settle within your chest.
It appeared that having a praise kink was, indeed, a transferable skill.
#marauders era#marauders au#reader insert#self insert#marauders fanfiction#remus lupin#james potter#sirius black#poly!marauders#poly!marauders x reader#poly!marauders x you#swim lessons#remus lupin x you#remus lupin x reader#sirius black x reader#sirius black x you#james potter x reader#james potter x you#swim instructor!marauders#poly!marauders fic#poly!marauders fluff#poly!marauders imagine#poly!marauders ficlet#poly!marauders blurb#ellecdc fics
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Hiii 🫶🏼 I hope you're still up for doing an Elijah request! 🤗 I can't get this man out of my head haha
Soo it would be an idea where they met somewhere in Mystic Falls and immediately felt some bond between them, so it happens that they start falling in love (she's human but knows about vampires) but she's too afraid to get hurt so she also tries not to get too close to Elijah. One night he sees some stranger following her home from the Grill and even starts attacking her, Elijah is immediately there saving her and taking her home with him to treat her wounds (mostly some scratches) and he's just super worried. There she realizes that Elijah would never be the one hurting her and they finally share their feelings with a lot of kissing and cuddles afterwards and he holds her, telling how much she means to him.
Oh I hope this is not too weird at all 🙈❤️
Description: Upon meeting Elijah Mikaelson, the feelings start to come but in fear of being hurt, the reader decides to keep her walls up to protect herself. This changes after Elijah protects her after being attacked.
Warnings: fluff, small angst, physical assault (mild), she/her pronouns, maybe swearing?
*Requests are open, please send through as many requests as you want, check my character list and requesting rules.*
Thanks so much for making this request! I can never get sick of Elijah, this man is always on my mind and please feel free to request again if you wish :) I really enjoyed writing this, thank you again :D
Key: Y/N = Your Name, POV = Point of view
Word Count: 2,125
First Person's POV
Tonight at the Grill was a ‘live acoustics’ night, some of the performers were good and others were quite frankly not that great. Bonnie, Elena and Caroline were off on the next big adventure for the vampiric save-the-day business and while I knew about all the vampires, witches, werewolves and all that extra fun stuff. Besides Matt, I was the only human in the group and somehow I was pushed aside to be kept ‘safe; despite Matt always being dragged into the whirlpool of drama even if he didn’t want to be.
“The music is wonderful for the atmosphere tonight, don’t you agree?” That voice would haunt my dreams, haunt my every thought, I couldn’t fathom how gentle and warm a voice could sound. I glanced to the side, shooting a polite smile to the impeccably dressed man and nodded in agreement.
“I do agree, I feel like I’m in like a cute little romance story, the warm lighting and the music-“ I cut myself short, realising I was babbling to a random stranger who more than likely did not care for my ideas and thoughts.
“I can see how you would see that.” Oh, gosh- those eyes! That smile! This man would haunt me forever, picture perfect and everything I would want in a man. I continued to share a polite smile with the man, fiddling with the straw in my chocolate milkshake and turned myself slightly to face the man a little better.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you…?” Realising that he was waiting for my name, I placed my drink down and took his hand.
“Y/N L/N” He softly cupped my hand, shaking it and proceeded to share his name.
“Elijah Mikaelson.” I wish I could’ve hidden my reaction better, my eyes went wide, and my smile flattened for a moment before I quickly made sure to continue to be nice and polite. Elijah carefully rested my head on the bar, took a small sip of whatever his drink was and gazed at me with a quizzical look.
“You know who I am…” His tone was neither harsh nor hurt, Elijah seemed to have suspected my knowledge of his name and he even seemed curious by the idea of my knowledge.
“I know of your brother Niklaus… Elena told me about you, I think she might have exaggerated a bit. You don’t seem like the antagonist she kinda painted you out to be. From what I’ve heard, you’re the nicer brother… the noble one and I'm sure first glances can be deceiving but… I don’t know- you don’t seem like a bad man.” He briefly licked his lips, eyes shooting up to the ceiling and seemed to be contemplating his next moves.
“I suppose you know-“
“That you’re a…” I leaned closer to whisper so people passing by wouldn’t hear.
“An Original.”
“You don’t seem to be phased.”
“Team doppelgänger has built up my immunity to supernatural beings.” I let out a weak chuckle, cringing internally and turned my focus back on my drink. I wanted to keep speaking with him, I really did want to keep speaking with him but I knew the world that I happened to live in and I didn’t fancy the idea of being bait or hurt as collateral damage.
“It was really nice to meet you Elijah but I have to go.” He nodded, that handsome smile appearing once more, his actions made me gush and brought butterflies into my belly as he grabbed my jacket and assisted in placing it back on.
“I hope that you have a good evening, Y/N”
“Same to you Elijah.” He seemed to have a thought pop into his head, I stopped in my tracks, allowing for him to have the benefit of the doubt and give him the chance to speak his mind.
“May I have the pleasure of seeing you again?”
“Maybe… There’s always tomorrow.” I knew I had given myself away, I could feel my heart skip a beat, I’m sure he could hear it, his facial expression didn’t change but I could feel that he knew what I was feeling.
“Have a good evening,” I whispered, brushing past him to carry on my way.
+++++++
I had seen Elijah a couple of times since our first meeting, we had small conversations and I tried my best to conceal my heart, I didn't want to get close to this man despite enjoying his presence, his voice and the true appearance of his gentlemanly ways made me fall into a daydream greater than any story or dream I could ever have or read.
The next time I saw Elijah was three months after our first meeting, as I said we had multiple different meetings and they were all the greatest moments of my life despite how much I tried to protect my fragile heart. I had left my home for the park, I wanted to read outside of my home and get some fresh air away from the stuffiness of my bedroom. I rested the picnic blanket underneath a large tree, I read three chapters of my book before I felt a presence looming nearby, I placed the book to the side and stood up, surveying the area for a figure and jumped in my skin seeing Elijah approaching me.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to frighten you, may I join you?" I nodded, smiling at the man, watching as he unbuttoned his shirt and sat down with me on the picnic blanket. He gently picked my book up, staring at the cover with intrigue, I observed him with butterflies growing in my stomach, a blush wanting to form on my cheeks as I continued to drown in what was possibly a huge crush for the Original Vampire.
"Ignite Me by Tahereh Mafi... I'm not sure I've heard of this one before."
"I doubt you would've, I don't exactly picture you reading a book like this?" He smiled, tilting his head slightly, a deep chuckle leaving his mouth and he handed me back the book.
"Why is that?"
"Well... I don't know, I picture you reading older books nothing from the late 20th century to the early 21st century." Elijah briefly nodded in agreement, I smiled proudly at my guess and fiddled with the tassels hanging off of my bookmark. The vampire took off his suit jacket and began rolling up the sleeves of his button-up, I bit the inside of my cheek, begging myself to remain calm and avoid giving away any kind of emotions being revealed.
"Enlighten me, will you though, please? What's it about?" I cleared my throat, leaning closer to him with joy forming, giddy that he was showing interest in something that I liked and enjoyed.
"It's the third book in the series, I've read it before, and this one is one of my favourites. Essentially the series is all about control some people have these powers and the leaders are trying to control these people. The relationship of the main characters is what I happen to enjoy the most about it, I love how Tahereh created their bond from..."
"Why did you stop?" Elijah gently questioned, his face furrowing in concern, I wanted to cringe but I forced the words out before I could let that show. Taking a deep breath, I turned my gaze back to him, scrunching my face up briefly and proceeded to explain to Elijah what was going through my head.
"Whenever I ramble on to the Salvatores and all that, it's clear that they don't care and I'm not wanting to force that onto you. I'm sorry." Elijah tutted, shaking his head and holding out his hand for me to take. Hesitating for a moment, I finally rested my hand in his, holding my breath for a moment and kept my eyes focused on him as he rested his other hand on top of mine.
"You do that too often, Y/N, I can see you trying to protect your heart and you have a wide range of information waiting to come out and you shut yourself down because you expect everyone else to do that. I hope you find someone... someone who makes you realise you don't need to do that."
"Could possibly end up being you, Elijah," I whispered.
+++++
When someone unknown came into Mystic Falls, it was always a concerning event, the vampires were always the most suspicious of strangers and most of the time they were typically right for not trusting the stranger. It was late when I left the grill tonight, Elijah was growing on my mind more and more, and I would be hit with a wave of memories at random moments.
"Up ahead, there's an alley to your right, walk down it. Try anything-"
"Okay... I understand." I whispered, complying as I walked a little quicker and turned down the alleyway. I cried out as I was instantly shoved against the wall, my head ached and the world spun around me, I bit back a sob as I hit the ground and hissed as the gravel bit into my skin. I kicked off my heels, not fancying a broken ankle and lept to my feet running towards the street but missed as the man tackled me to the ground and which resulted in blood slightly trickling down my forehead and more cuts forming against my skin.
It felt like something out of a vampire movie, I heard a whoosh and then a light thud. Elijah appeared, holding the man against the wall effortlessly with one hand and easily compelled the man to walk off and not commit any sort of crime again. I let out a few sobs as the pain sunk in and the adrenaline started to fade away.
Elijah swooped me into his arms, effortlessly taking me to his mansion and rested me down on his obnoxiously large bed. He crouched down, gently cupping my face in his hands, observing my facial features and swiftly disappeared somewhere before running back.
"Are you okay?" He questioned, focusing on grabbing the things from the first-aid kit to treat my wounds.
"I'm okay..." I whispered, hissing as he wiped an alcohol wipe across the graze on my palm and watched as he apologised profusely for inflicting any added pain onto me. Elijah was so attentive to my needs, he cleaned the blood and dirt away from my cuts and grazes. Covering them with bandaids, doing what he could to assist in caring for me. It was as he was lingering for a moment, observing my form that I realised that Elijah Mikaelson would never hurt me. He would never cause any harm to me, Elijah Mikaelson would protect me and I knew that I wouldn't need to worry any longer.
"You wouldn't hurt me..." I whispered, staring at the vampire as he grasped my face and held eye contact with me.
"Y/N L/N I would never dream of hurting you, you... you're perfect... Y/N you are the epitome of perfect, I haven't met someone as intelligent, kind, sweet, and funny in a long time. Y/N I love you and I hope that you'll allow-" I pushed myself closer to him, carefully cupping his face to kiss the man who had possessed my dreams too often.
"Elijah, please, never let me go, I can't keep guarding myself-"
"Shhh, I've got you." He kissed my forehead, pulling me into his arms and pushing himself to lay against the headboard of his bed. I inhaled, holding onto the warm and mesmerising smell of his cologne, I curled into his chest and hummed gently as he rested another kiss on my forehead.
I felt protected, Elijah was my guardian angel, and he made me feel warm and gooey. Made me giddy and the butterflies a constant swarm in my belly, I fiddled with his hands, staring at the family ring that rested on his finger and glanced to him as he pulled my face to meet his. I hummed as he rested a kiss against my lips, sucking in another deep breath and curling in closer as he strokes my hair, his touch comforting and loving.
"Can I stay here? Just in your arms? Where I'm safe and with you, you Elijah who looks after me and takes the time to listen and know me?" Elijah's smile made the butterflies come to life, my cheeks flushed red and his simple words reassured me for an infinity of time.
"Always and forever."
#the originals#fluff#angst#elijah mikaelson#elijah mikaelson x reader#elijah mikaelson imagine#the mikaelsons#klaus mikaelson x reader#klaus mikaelson imagine#klaus mikaelson x y/n#klaus mikaelson#elijah mikaelson fluff#klaus mikaelson fluff#daniel gillies#joseph morgan#rebekah mikaelson#hayley marshall#marcel gerard#freya mikaelson#kol mikaelson#daniel gilles fluff#elijah mikealson x reader#elijah mikaelson fic#elijah mikaelson x y/n#elijah mikaelson x female reader#niklaus mikaelson#niklaus imagines#niklaus x reader#niklaus mikaelson x reader#niklaus mikaelson fluff
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The first time Steve hears Eddie singing that song, it's nothing but a absent-minded humming while he's doing something else. Writing something down, he thinks, for the campaign, probably.
Steve knows that song, that's why he smiled when he heard the soft, muffled tone falling out of Eddie's throat. Steve's heard Will singing it, and it's so painfully Jonathan, that song wears his signature all over. Maybe it's because it's The Smiths, and The Smiths is Jonathan.
Steve holds a smile and keeps himself busy, away from Eddie's eyes, because of course, that's what he does. No need to cause a scene, he could go on with his day without Eddie asking him "why are you smiling like an airhead?" Nah, thank you very much.
It's not his music scene, but Steve admits that it has been a favourite since it came out. It was just so goddamn relatable. He first heard it when Nancy dumped him, and sometimes, when he was working at Scoops, he could hear that song coming from the rock station Robin liked, coming from the backroom. No surprise she likes that song too.
Those were dark times for him. Summer job at Scoops, that is. It was a disappointment after another; no university, no high school anymore, no girlfriend, no status to hide after, no friends but the kids he drove all around Hawkins (and yet, three weeks away from Dustin, who was the only one who actually went to see him without asking for anything in return), the most embarrassing dry spell and having absolutely zero idea of what to do next. And that song just randomly filled the air and he indulged himself for two minutes to sulk on his own misery and he felt surprisingly less depressed right after.
So, yeah, that song holds a special meaning for him, a soothing balm for his broken heart, a good nostalgia from his darkest period.
And it comes back to him, from Eddie's voice, and it comes to stay the rest of the day. The rest of the week.
It makes him sad. A good sad, Steve guesses.
He's not really better than a couple years ago, but he's less scared, which is undeniably a victory.
He lets out a sigh and walks away from Eddie, leaves him there, happy and focused and begging.
Steve comes to notice that Eddie sings that song a lot, and he's making it his business not to ask, not to sing along, not to say or do anything that may reveal that Eddie's version of that song is becoming so fast the best he's ever heard.
The day the older side of the group go to see him play with his band, and at some point, he just sits and grabs an acoustic guitar and sings it, that one song, the world turns around. It's hard to keep a straight face, and to breathe regularly. A prayer, a begging in form of ballad, the room is in respectful silence, or if there is any background noise his brain makes the greatest job ignoring it.
Feels Robin's hand slipping through his palm and lacing fingers, but he doesn't look at her.
He can't.
His lips, disloyal and treacherous bastards, shape the last sentence of the song.
Lord knows it would be the first time.
The last chord fills the negative space and the bar noises are there again out of the sudden, and some of his friends are shouting nice things, and Eddie is graciously discarding the acoustic guitar and grabbing his sweetheart again and Steve is hoping to go unnoticed when he wipes his face in a quick movement.
He knows Robin sees it, but she says nothing, merciful and elegant.
The gig goes on for a couple of more songs and it's far too soon when Eddie is there, letting himself fall on the stool next to him, all pleased and content and full of black smudged eyeliner and Steve knows he has to say something to him, so he opts to go with, "I really like that song."
It doesn't need any more saying, because Eddie grins and fucking bites his bottom lip, and looks at the floor like it's the most interesting thing in the world, leaning on the bar next to Steve, and Steve knows, he just knows Eddie knows which one he's talking about.
"Yeah. I bet you do."
He doesn't tease, doesn't go with the rancid bUt YoU lIsTeN tO tEaRs FoR fEaRs In YoUr CaR aLl tHe tImEeE shit like the kids like to whine. He doesn't pretend not to know which one he's talking about. Steve smiles at him, buys the guy a beer.
"So, Robin told you? About, uh, about the song."
He tries a bit too hard to look unaffected, but the label of his cold beer bottle has seen better days. Steve feels Eddie going still and turning his head to face him, wielding such soft, almost pitiful expression that makes Steve's inside go still, lungs not working, muscles tense, blood frozen in his veins, and somehow scalding in his cheeks. He dares to look at Eddie, who whispers, "She did not."
The time stops, or so Steve thinks, when he turns his head to look at Eddie, not really moving an inch.
The question goes unspoken.
The answer is one second too long of both their gazes taking residence in the other guy's lips.
And the song comes alive in Steve's mind, and his lips move again.
So for once in my life
let me get what I want
Lord knows, it would be the first time
#inklessletter#ficlet#stranger things#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#fluff#soft#this is very much unedited so#it's been a long time since I don't write a bit#pre steddie#steddie ficlet#please please please let me get what i want#the smiths#this song is so absurdly important to me
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rocker eddie/actor steve | exes to ?? | fame au p2 | p1 p3 p4 p5 interlude p6
The picture itself is not incriminating.
In the five years since Eddie’s wet dog apology they have been cordial to each other. Eddie seemed to have finally grown up. Finally got the hint. He doesn’t bug Steve after that night. He stays in his lane.
After a few years it’s a nod at a charity event. A half-smile at the town’s trendy new restaurant. A card when Steve gets an Emmy nod for his HBO series. Steve tries to not mind it. Tries to not let it get under his skin. He doesn’t send Eddie anything when he gets his Grammy.
LA is a small town. Eddie moved back once he finished his first tour. Steve does his best to keep his circle separate but LA is a small town. He nearly ends up at Eddie’s 30th after his coworker tries to drag him to some “rager in Loz Feliz.”
Sometimes, after another break up leaves him feeling shit-all, Steve drives past their dingy old place in West Hollywood. Tries to picture the version of the story where Eddie wasn’t eaten by his monster ego. Lets himself imagine them happy. Lets himself cry over it again. Like it happened yesterday instead of a decade ago.
But then he blinks and it’s been twelve years and yeah, maybe he hasn’t felt home like he did with Eddie, maybe no one else has fit him quite so right. But maybe he was just young and everything felt bigger then.
He feels weirdly at peace about it all. It’s not forgiveness, he doesn’t know if he’ll ever be able to stomach that, but it is acceptance. It took a long time to scar but it's finally just a faded pink line. He’s happy.
And then the photo starts to circulate.
The picture itself is not incriminating.
It’s their old WeHo apartment. Eddie’s hopped on the grimy kitchen counter, acoustic guitar in hand. He’s smiling at Steve and Steve is leaned against the wall and he’s smiling back. And it’s Them. And Steve thinks they’ve never looked so young.
He doesn’t know who took the photo. Maybe Robin or Nancy or Jon. They visited a lot in that first year.
He doesn’t know how it ended up digitized, posted to a random pop culture subreddit.
What he does know is that he and Eddie have never publicly acknowledged each other.
The internet treats the picture like a cute little chachki in the first few days. A buzzpop factoid #67. It’s “Did you know Tommy Lee Jones and Al Gore were college roommates?”
But then news outlets were picking it up. And Eddie was halfway through promoting his third album.
They’re dead lucky the picture is not incriminating.
Steve’s still not technically out– he’s had quiet relationships with men but his team preferred a starlet on his arm at the carpets.
Eddie’s out the way a rockstar is. He’d fuck anything as long as it made him a pervert.
Their teams move fast.
The official story is that they’d both moved to LA to pursue their careers. They roomed together because they knew each other from their small town. Then Steve booked his show and Eddie moved to London and they lost touch.
Eddie repeats it on talk show after talk show. He lies and says they’re still friendly now, but their schedules keep them both so busy. They haven’t caught up in a while. He goes wistful when he says it. Steve tries not to feel downright bitter. It does quiet the chatter down.
In November, his manager tells him he’s presenting at the Golden Globes. The studio had asked him specifically, still under contract to promote their animated movie. He agrees cause he needs eyes on the tiny indie he'd finally gotten made.
In December, he finds out who he’s presenting with.
Steve throws a fit. It’s uncharacteristic. It’s not at all in line with the nice-guy persona he’s spent years cultivating. But they’ve managed to get this far without him actually having to talk to the guy. He doesn’t ever want to have to talk to Eddie Munson again.
His manager lures him off the ledge. It’s too late to change the line-up. He's put in years of work to get his movie made. She reminds him that it’s Hollywood. Everyone has to deal with this shit. Not worth blowing it all up because he can’t handle 30 minutes with his ex.
So Steve plays nice but Eddie skips out on rehearsal. Of fucking course. Twelve years and he’s still so predictable.
Steve reads the teleprompter next to a random PA and decides then and there to say Fuck Healing. He did that. And now he’s being punished. Again. He’s fucking pissed.
He’s pissed that the photo got out. He’s pissed at whoever leaked it. He’s pissed enough to convince himself it was Eddie. He’s pissed Eddie’s shouldering his way back into his life even if it wasn’t him.
And yeah, he’s still fucking pissed that Eddie left in the first place.
Steve first sees him on the carpet. It’s from a distance, and he’s determined to keep it that way for as long as possible. He wishes Eddie dashed for the real thing too, but he knows his ego couldn’t take the blow. Eddie Munson loves attention too much.
Eddie looks great, cause he’s a celebrity & it’s a 10-person job to make him look great.
Eddie looks great cause he’s always looked great. Even when his hair was all frizz and his hygiene habits were questionable at best. And Steve hates him but his dick has never gotten the memo.
Steve deals with it by drinking a lot. It’s the Globes! He sits at his table and smiles and they give him alcohol and he drinks it. It’s stupid and it’s reckless and it’s the only thing that’s gonna get him through this torture. So he picks at his ugly velvet suit and he drinks.
The wranglers grab them 20 minutes before they’re set to present. It’s earlier than usual but Munson’s been known to dash.
They’re sitting on opposite couches in the green room. Eddie’s vibrating. Leg jittering nonstop. Steve’s starting to feel woozy. They’re not talking.
After five minutes, Eddie clicks his tongue and gets up. “Gonna take a leak.” His wrangler starts after him. “Follow me and I cut off your dick.”
Steve looks at the kid, weighing tearily whether his job was more important than his penis, “I’ll- I'll make sure he’s back on time.”
Steve stumbles riled down the hall, opens the door with a slam, “You leak the photo, Munson?”
Eddie’s already washing his hands. Steve catches his reflection in the mirror. He looks weirdly hurt.
“Steve,” Eddie says his name so... sad, “C’mon, man. I- I wouldn’t do that.”
Steve laughs cold, puts his hands in his suit pockets. “Sure, yeah, man. You’d just disappear for seven years. Come back with some horseshit apology because you finally got what you wanted. Cause your ego could finally handle being around me. But sure. You wouldn’t do that.”
Eddie steps back into the wall, looks at Steve with those watery brown eyes. They’re framed by crows feet now. “Steve, I–”
Steve boxes him in, makes it so he can’t slip away this time, “You know there was a week there where I thought you'd fucking died.”
He feels like a live wire. He feels every awful thing he’s felt for a dozen years bubble to the surface.
“Mike Wheeler told me where you went. Mike. Wheeler. I thought you were dead in a ditch, you asshole. Thought I’d lost you forever. But no. You just skipped town– Skipped town because I loved you and you fucking hated me.”
He doesn’t know when grabbed a fist into Eddie’s shirt. He wants to tear it. It’s probably insured.
“Stevie,” Eddie’s blubbering. Their faces are close enough that Steve can see his lip quivering. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, baby.”
Now Steve really wants to laugh. Baby. It’s such garbage. Total bullshit.
“I wish you’d died. It would’ve hurt less.” He says it dry, with his big wide movie-star smile. Then he spits, bullseye on Eddie’s cheek, “I fucking hate you.”
It’s so strange to see Eddie up close after all this time. He’s blurry in the memories but so vivid here, so harsh. Makeup cracking into nicotine wrinkles. Different. A mask of the person Steve knew.
He breathes, “I know.”
----
Eddie's tongue still tastes the same.
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eddie's little somethings
aka some of the ways eddie shows you he loves you
he is your personal driver: even when you don't ask, he shows up after your shift to drive you home whenever he can, brings you to and from school, and never wants to let you drive. he just loves how you look in the passenger seat, window open, hair flying everywhere. he can put his hand on your thigh. his perfect little passenger princess <3
he wants you around 24/7, just sitting beside him, even if you're doing your own thing. especially when he's dm'img at hellfire, sometimes you'd just read a book beside him, if you weren't involved in that particular campaign
he's actually a big fan of pda, he loves causing a scene, and he loves showing everyone that you're all his. so what better way than making out with you against a locker, or keeping his arm around you for the entire lunch period. if you share a class, he'll sit beside you and have his hand on your thigh the whole time. more comforting than sexual.
one of the rare occurrences that eddie cancelled hellfire was because you had a terrible day, and you just wanted to go home instead of hangout with the party, so he cancelled it and took you home, even when you insisted he could just come over after.
eddie kisses every inch of you like he's looking for a secret. he makes sure you know he thinks every inch of you is perfect. from love bites on your thigh, to kisses behind your ear, up and down arms and legs, all over your back while he gives you a massage omfg (i'm writing smut based off of this, stay tuned)
one time he asked you if you would be comfortable with him looking at porn "not because i want to right now, but like, don't wanna cause an issue later, yaknow babe?" and you thought that was very mature
when he's meant to give you gift (birthdays/holidays etc) he prefers to make something. one time he recorded two cassettes of himself playing all your favourite songs, one slow, instrumental & acoustic for studying, and one how they were meant to be sang for jamming. he's also made a popsicle stick diorama of your childhood tree fort that was torn down, and a DnD campaign on your birthday based on your favourite fantasy movie (wrote a follow up to this point: here)
he likes to bring you a little treat. when hes on his way over he'll often stop to grab a cookie, or a smoothie. just something nice for him to give you. he likes to do anything to make you smile
he makes a huge effort to partake in your interests and hobbies, and makes sure not to accidentally dominate your shared time with his band, and his club. he wanted to make sure the attention was split between you, a healthy balance for a healthy relationship <3
he dedicates a song to you at every single gig, as if it's not the same crowd every time. but he doesn't care, he's just happy you're still excited to see his shows
eddie always asks for your opinion on everything, and while it's not always what he wants, he always takes yours into account, and if it's something you two have to decide together, he wouldn't stop trying to figure out a perfect compromise.
he loves to feel skin on skin contact. when you guys are just hanging out, he always finds some way to get his hand on your skin, whether it's your thigh, or rubbing your back, or just holding your hand. he likes the comfort of you nearby. but in bed, he likes to press his chest into yours during missionary, wrapping up your legs together and coddling your head in his arms, laying as flushed against you as he possibly could
eddie also just straight up says "i love you" like a million times a day
i am going to write 1000000 more eddie headcanons so feel free to request
#eddie munson#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson fic#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson smut#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x fem!reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x y/n#stranger things fiction#stranger things fanfiction#stranger things fic#stranger things s4#stranger things
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౨ৎ — hair dye (sjy)
pairing. bf! sim jaeyun x fem! reader synopsis. you and jake decide to get matching hair colors genre. est. relationship fluff wc. 1241 notes. if jake goes red maybe i will too! library.
you were a force to reckon with. once you started dating jake, both of you paired together made for many impulsive late-night decisions.
just as tonight did.
it was nearly 2 am when you had sat up from bed with a ‘brilliant’ idea.
you and jake were not sleeping yet, the sunset lamp you purchased was still on to illuminate the room.
you had brought it over since you spent more time at jake's house than at your apartment.
you two mindlessly scrolled on your phones, enjoying the comfortable silence.
“baby why are you up?” jake mumbled, his arm locking around your waist to bring you back to his chest.
“you would do anything for me right?” you asked, looking down at him and brushing some hair strands off his forehead.
“of course,” he sat up next to you, taking your smaller hand in his. “where is this coming from?” his eyes shone with slight worry.
“would you dye your hair to match with me?”
and that is all it took for you and jake to get in the car and drive to the nearest hair supply store. for some reason, your hair supply store was thankfully open when you arrived.
letting out an exhale in relief as you and jake came up upon the ‘OPEN’ light sign, he opened the door and ushered you in first. mostly because neither of you even considered checking if the place was open.
“hi ____! nice to see you and..?” liz, the cashier, greeted.
she had known you as a frequent customer due to your tendency to get bored of your hair quickly.
“hi liz! this my boyfriend jake! we’re looking for some red hair dye enough for the both of us.” you explained, tugging him along when liz led you down an aisle.
“this should be enough!” she handed you a large bottle of developer, which jake quickly took off your hands.
the three of you walked towards the checkout to get ringed up. before liz even finished scanning all your items jake had already taken his silly minion card out to pay.
“ikeu it was my idea, you should have let me pay.” you huffed, settling into the passenger’s seat while he made sure you were buckled properly.
you had no idea when he started checking your seatbelt but he had been insistent ever since he started.
you told him multiple times you could buckle yourself but he said it made him feel more at ease. so who were you to oppose?
“you know that as long as i have money i’ll never let you pay baby,” he said, turning on the car engine, and driving back towards his apartment.
when you reached his building the sky decided to downpour.
making jake run to the passenger’s side to get you so he could wrap the both of you in his jacket and make a run for it.
once you had made it inside you both were completely drenched. sharing many giggles in the elevator, due to you calling him a puppy after a bath. he was just so cute.
unlocking his door he got himself changed into a new set of clothes and got you one of his old t-shirts to change into. picking shirts he wouldn’t mind getting dirty. grabbing some towels from the bathroom so you could start your hair dye escapade.
you sat on the bathroom counter, jake standing between your legs, putting the red dye all over his hair.
you made sure to wear gloves as you had an afternoon lecture the next day and didn’t want it to look like you killed elmo.
jake basked in the fact you were continuously carding your fingers through his hair.
sliding off the countertop when you finished his hair, you kept your gloves on. letting him help you do the back of your head while you handled the front.
he purposely got some on your neck, the coolness of the dye making you shake. in spite, you reached up to put some on his ears.
the acoustics of the bathroom amplifying your shared giggles, which you tried to lessen due to sunghoon being asleep in the room next door.
the soft sounds of your playlist filled the room while you both sat on the bathroom floor with a 30-minute timer for the dye to set in.
the alarm on your phone started to vibrate, signaling it was time to wash your hair.
since you had did your boyfriend's hair first he had to wash his out first. you put on another pair of gloves and had jake lean over the bathtub so you could rinse out the product.
the water from the faucet turned a bright red once hitting jake's hair. you used shampoo and conditioner to make sure jake wouldn’t sleep without the soft hair you loved to play with.
after you checked his hair was fully washed, you had him dry it with a towel as a hairdryer would most definitely disturb sunghoon’s slumber.
you had laughed once you switched places, jake now washing your hair, since he forgot to wear gloves his hands quickly turned a bright shade of red.
he didn’t even bother correcting his mistake, not minding the staining that would last for a couple of days at least.
as both of you dried your hair in front of the mirror you admired your matching hair.
smiling at how quickly he agreed to do his hair just for you.
he saw you grinning at him in the mirror and leaned down to kiss all over your face, rambling on about how the red suits you perfectly.
brushing your teeth and cleaning up the mess of hair products around his bathroom, you both finally headed to bed.
jake slipping into the spot next to you, engulfing you into a hug and intertwining his legs with yours.
by now it was nearly 6 am the sun was starting to peek out.
despite the sunlight creeping into the room through the cracks in the curtains, you both were knocked out like lights.
at around 9 am sunghoon waltzed into jake’s bedroom ready to ask him if he and you wanted anything for breakfast.
only to be met with a lump of blankets and red-stained hands peeking out from under the covers.
“OH MY GOD JAKE WHY ARE YOU COVERED IN BLOOD!” sunghoon shrieked, ripping the blankets off of you both.
triggering you both to tiredly groan. trying to return to sleep, you buried your head in the crook of jake’s neck, letting him deal with sunghoon alone.
“take a look at our hair hoon,” he rasped out.
“oh i see…” sunghoon lied. “it’s..?” waiting for someone to finish his sentence.
“it’s red hoon.” you deadpanned, shooing him to get out.
“OH! looks awesome guys! when did you do it?”
“at 2 am, now get out.”
“you are so cranky jake,” sunghoon pouted. “i guess i’ll only get ____ breakfast on my way back from class.”
“no please hoon i am so hungry..” jake pleaded.
“all you get is a slice of untoasted toast.”
“isn’t that just bread?”
“he will take whatever you give him just let me go back to sleep oh my god.” you groaned, flipping over.
“goodnight baby,” jake said, wrapping his arms around your waist to spoon you.
“it’s morning,” sunghoon commented.
“get out hoon.”
“finee,” he sulked, closing the door behind him.
# ૮꒰ “ . . ꒱ა ♥︎ #🐶 — 𝖩𝖠𝖤𝖸𝖴𝖭#enhypen#jake sim#sim jaeyun#sim jake#enhypen fluff#enhypen scenarios#enhypen imagines#enhypen oneshots#enhypen drabbles#jake fluff#enhypen jake#jake x reader#jake drabbles#jaeyun fluff#enha fluff#enhypen jaeyun#jake oneshots#jake imagines#enha x reader#jaeyun x reader#jaeyun oneshots#jaeyun imagines#jaeyun scenarios#sim jaeyun fluff#sim jaeyun fic#enhypen au#enhypen fanfiction#jake enhypen
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jealous monster trio + law and ace x reader
a/n. not proofread!! i wrote this on my phone in the middle of watching a movie ong. idk why there aren't many dialogues in ace and law's part, but im lowkey pleased with how everything turned out
tags. fluffy fluff fluff, established relationship
crack tags. sanji gets a nosebleed (again), sanji tries to steal you away, sanji (that's it, that's the warning), marco bepo and robin are the best matchmakers, nami robs someone 😴
luffy wasn't the type to be overly possessive about the things he liked. growing up with two brothers, he had learned to share all mundane things in his life; his clothes, his blanket, even his toothbrush.
but not you.
luffy didn't understand the feeling that was developing in the pit of his stomach at the sight of you working out with zoro in the crow's nest. it was nice to stay healthy, right? that was what he had thought when he saw you reject his offer to play board games with him. he watched you walk away and up to the crow's nest where the swordsman practically lived, and sulkily climbed his special seat on the head of the sunny.
"oi, luffy! come down," usopp called out from the deck, and he glanced at the latter. "robin's telling us another story of the ancient civilizations of the west blue!"
"i'm not in the mood," luffy shouted back, still gazing wistfully at you.
he watched your face contort into one of pain when you moved to do the crunches, and zoro laughed at you before showing you how to breathe in the position as you lifted yourself back up.
"are you sure? i think you're just hungry!" usopp called again. "robin said we can have some of the special pancakes sanji made for her."
luffy stared back at his friend, his eyebrows furrowing as he thought hard. soon after, he yelled back, "i'll come down, give me one second!"
as you got back up from the crunch you were performing, you saw a long arm on the glass wall of the room and nearly screamed. luffy accidentally slammed his face into the wall, his cheeks comically enlarged as he spoke something incoherent to you. zoro rolled his eyes from beside you.
"i think he's saying break time is over. you've gotta go deal with him now."
.
zoro was rather secure in your relationship. he didn't mind it when other people commented about how nice you are, or about how pretty you look. he let it all slide, seeing as he knew all of the comments were true, and you deserved to know that. so he wasn't one to get mad when such things happened.
except when it came to the idiot cook.
it had been almost fifteen minutes past your usual time and you still hadn't shown up. zoro had gritted his teeth in the middle of a set and set out to find you. it didn't take him long, however, to figure out what was keeping you.
"my dear y/n, you must listened to this acoustic poem i have written in your name," the cook had one of your hands in his, blocking your way up to the crow's nest.
"i'm sure it's lovely, sanji, but i'm in a hurry right now--"
"ah, where, i wonder, must i look to find another beauty such as yourself--?"
"oi, cook! buzz off, will ya? no one wants you around," zoro's voice came from upstairs, and you turned to look at him.
the cook glared at him from behind you, but immediately pouted wistfully when you turned back at him. "don't say that, 'ro," you scolded, and the cook's face lit up at your words, eyes gleaming at the sight of zoro's annoyed look.
"i said what i said," zoro walked downstairs, twirling a strand of your hair around his fingers when he reached you. "buzz off, prince of the perverts."
.
sanji is a little bit of an idiot. insecurity runs in his veins, and thus so does jealousy. you would have felt bad for him too, had he not been making you feel the same way since day one.
his face streamed with tears as he followed you around the marketplace. a few minutes earlier, you had caught him shooting to the sky with a nosebleed because of some poor woman's smile. he had landed right at your feet, the sight momentarily disarming you before you kicked his frame out of the way to walk.
it had been about half a minute of you ignoring him and he was on his hands and knees, begging for you to spare a glance at him. you would have felt bad, had this not been the fiftieth time in a week. you instead chose to turn to usopp, who had grown to learn to ignore sanji and his antics around women ever since they first met at the baratie. sanji's ears turned a bright red at your movement, and he clinged even harder at you
the two of you silently agreed to not wait for nami while she was busy robbing civilized people in a restaurant, and sped up at the looks the passersby were giving sanji, who was practically hanging onto your waist right now.
"i'm sorry, i'm sorry, angel, i know that's not gonna cut it but i beg for your humble forgiveness, i will not ever-"
"how do you deal with this moron?" usopp whispered to you, and you whispered back an "i don't know".
sanji kept mumbling things into your hips and pressing soft kisses into your waist, until you gave in when chopper hurried up to where you were, polaroids of your smile hanging around his neck; your boyfriend was just in rehab!
.
ace didn't think you looked half as good with anyone else but him. that is another way to say, he couldn't stand anyone who was within a certain radius from you. he wouldn't talk about it at all, and whenever you would bring it up he would play dumb.
but he hated it; not in a you're-mine-and-belong-to-me way but more in a im-just-a-boy-who-needs-external-validation-to-exist kinda way.
so he didn't like the way you were the only 'daughter' in whitebeard's crew among all the 'sons' who spoke about you like you were a trophy. he didn't like how you were placed under marco's division and not his. he didn't like how both whitebeard and marco laughed at him whenever they caught him looking at you.
after a particularly rough mission, the first division was having a blast with all the treasure they had managed to get back. ace looked at you with a longing pout on his face, about ten feet away from you. you were laughing with thatch at the moment, and he was busy fantasizing about how you would react if he carried you into your shared room on his shoulder, kissed the back of your nape and sucked hickeys to spell his name on your neck--
marco slapped the back of his head and his face fell into his plate with a loud crash.
"thank me later," marco said, eyes unwavering as the man in front of him fell asleep face-first into a plate full of food.
he went away as ace woke up shortly after, his face covered in curry, with men laughing at and mimicking him, but among all of them, his ears only heard the sound of your laughter before you quickly got up to hand him tissues.
.
law did not care. or at least, he pretended not to. after all, it had taken multiple tantrums from bepo to get him to confess to you, and even then he had made it clear he was not a fan of whatever you might have thought to be an 'ideal, loving relationship'.
that was, until today, when you had learned just how far you had to push his buttons to transform him into a romantic man. you could feel law's gaze on you as you laughed at whatever dumb thing luffy had just said, but when you turned around, he was busy conversing with robin about who knows what. once again, you turned to luffy, felt weird, turned back and saw nothing. for every minute you talked to the straw hat about something, you could feel law breathing down your neck, albeit in a subtle manner that no one but you seemed to catch.
"law," you finally came up to him, and he looked up at you as if he hadn't for ages. "is something wrong?"
"what makes you think so?" he challenged, and you could feel robin chuckle next to him. after shooting her a perplexed look, you shrugged and walked back to where the group was having fun, staying a bit closer to chopper this time, for luffy's safety.
it wasn't until the two of you had retreated back to your shared room for the night that you had realised what you felt had not been a hoax. law was on you the moment you lay next to him on the bed, nuzzling up to you and pressing gentle kisses to your forehead and cheeks.
you were confused, to say the least, but you had a faint suspicion that this strange side of law was the idea of a certain archaeologist.
#op x you#op x reader#op fluff#op zoro#op luffy#op sanji#op ace#op law#one piece luffy#straw hat luffy#monkey d luffy#luffy#luffy fluff#one piece#zoro#roronoa zoro x reader#zoro x reader#roronoa zoro#one piece zoro#sanji x reader#one piece sanji#black leg sanji#sanji#sanji x y/n#sanji x you#ace x reader#portgas d ace x reader#law x reader#law fluff#one piece fluff
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assigning u 47: “touching their elbow to get their attention” + 🥺🌌🛠️
scene prompt game! these r soo fun <3
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Funny thing happened, Eddie says, and Buck leans into him, easy gravity.
The log they’re sitting on is long enough for half a dozen people, but it’s just the two of them, shoulder to shoulder, at the far end of the backyard. They’ve been filling time, since they finished with their official chaperone duties of overseeing the building of the tents. Tent stakes and mallets are a lot simpler than most of the tools they deal with on the job, but add a couple dozen thirteen-year-olds to the mix, and Eddie’s grateful to be able to step back for a second. Let Jaime’s dad and his acoustic guitar take the lead for a little while.
“What was it?” Buck asks.
It’s funny. When she—Allegra’s mom, whose name Eddie’s been trying to remember for fifteen minutes—said it, Eddie’s first instinct was to pretend that it never happened. Then, Buck drops next to him on the log and Eddie starts talking.
“One of the moms came up while you were”—Eddie waves a hand in the air, trying to encompass helping half a dozen thirteen-year-olds build tents in a gesture—“and she, uh. She asked where my husband was.”
Eddie looks at Buck out of the corner of his eye. He’s not sure what he thinks about it. He’s got a feeling like he was waiting for Buck before he reacted. Buck would tell him what he was supposed to feel, if he was supposed to feel anything at all.
Buck laughs without missing a beat.
He bumps his shoulder against Eddie’s. “Who was it this time?”
“This time?” Eddie repeats.
“It wasn’t Mariah, was it?” Buck continues. “Every time I meet her, I get the feeling she’s pretending to remember me.”
Eddie shakes his head. He doesn’t even know who Mariah is. “It was Allegra’s mom.”
“Kelly?” Buck asks, and that’s, yeah. That’s the name Eddie couldn’t remember. Buck laughs. “Aw, c’mon, Kelly! I’ve met her like a hundred times.”
“This, uh. This happens a lot?” Eddie asks. He feels...he doesn't know how he feels, when Buck isn't blinking an eye at this.
Buck tilts his head to the side. He peers at Eddie, looking like he’s seeing him for the first time. “Uh, yeah,” he says. “It doesn’t happen to you?”
“No,” Eddie says honestly.
“Huh,” Buck says.
He leans back on his hands on the log, still looking at Eddie. When Eddie first pitched the idea of Buck coming to chaperone Chris’s science club camping night, Buck had lit up. He insisted on taking Eddie to two different sporting goods stores to make sure they had everything they needed, poring over shelves of sets of dishes and flashlights like they were going to be in the woods for a week, not Mrs. Romano’s backyard for a night. Neither of them thought it was weird, Buck coming to one of Chris’s events. Chris only thought it was the regular amount of weird; he’d rolled his eyes when Eddie said he was volunteering to be a chaperone, and rolled his eyes slightly less when he said Buck was coming along too.
It wasn’t weird. Buck’s been going to Chris’s school stuff since at least their second year of knowing each other, maybe earlier. It would be nice even if Buck were just doing it to take pity on Eddie and make sure he’s not doing all the parent things by himself; it’s something else that Buck wants to be there for Chris just as much as Eddie does. It’s their routine. It’s--it's what they do.
“Sorry,” Buck says. “I thought this was just, like, one of those things. We both knew about it, so we didn’t have to talk about it.”
“I did not know about it,” Eddie says.
Buck bumps his shoulder. “Hey,” he says. “Are you spiraling about it?”
“No, Buck,” Eddie says. He rubs a hand over his face. “I’m coming to terms with the fact that half the parents of my son’s friends think I’m married to you. I’m not spiraling about it.”
“Guess that explains why more of them aren’t trying to set you up with their single mom friends, huh?” Buck says. He grins, elbowing Eddie again. “I think it’s kind of cute. You know, us being married.”
Cute.
Eddie’s not sure, now, why he thought that hearing Buck’s perspective would clear this up for him. He thinks about Buck, fielding assumptions that he and Eddie are together for the better part of five years, and Eddie feels the opposite of clarified.
They’re sharing a tent. They put it together as soon as they got here, before the kids borrowed all the tools and didn’t come back with them. Eddie didn’t own a sleeping bag of his own, so Buck picked him up one, the same brand as Buck’s, a dark orange to Buck’s green. It’s funny, suddenly, thinking about lying down next to Buck in the tent tonight. Knowing that there’s parents here who think that’s just what they do every night, in their house, in the bed they share.
“Oh, hey.” Buck catches Eddie’s elbow and points. Eddie follows him, first down to the point of contact, feeling Buck’s grip through the fabric of his jacket, then up along the line of Buck’s gaze to the sky. “You can see the stars.”
It’s true. When the sun went down a couple hours ago, it brought with it the typical evening gloom of LA. Just above the treeline, there’s a break in the clouds, opening up the night sky behind them.
It’s not exactly the middle of nowhere, but the Romanos live a little out of the city, just far enough that the stars actually show up in the darkness. Enough that Eddie can pick out a couple of constellations he still half-remembers from school textbooks, from sitting on the back porch back home, from sneaking out to sit on the empty bleachers behind the high school at one and two in the morning and just look.
Eddie looks down. Buck is still watching the sky, an easy look on his face.
Eddie has this wind chime.
He got it at a flea market. Chris found it, actually, in the back of some tent full of antique toys and kitchenware that reminded Eddie of his abuela’s house. He decided he liked it and it was only three bucks, so they took it home. Eddie hung it up in the tree in the backyard, where Chris suggested. You can see it from the kitchen window.
It might be homemade. It’s simple: colored glass hanging on strings in a circle. Someone etched pictures onto the glass, little scratched-out images of birds on each side. When the wind blows, the strings spin, sending the glass in circles. The pictures blur together.
Here they are. Buck and Eddie, sitting next to each other in the dark of almost-night. Best friends. Partners. Chris’s, the people who show up to take him to camping nights and school trips. Spin it, and they’re what Kelly sees—partners of a different kind. Together. Eddie can see them both in his mind’s eye, him and Buck on either side of the glass. Spinning.
Buck’s hand is still on his elbow.
“Hey, Buck,” Eddie says. Buck’s expression, when he finds Eddie’s face, is wide-open. “When we get home tomorrow—you wanna stay? For the day?”
Buck grins. “Yeah,” he says. “Of course.”
The string spins.
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