#even silly indulgent ones don’t be afraid

[minutestildawn]

Aziraphale being protective/sick of this bs. (Like in the "aziphala - Aziraphale" scene) And Crowley's reactions. Pleeease.

you requested bamf aziraphale and I must oblige. i think he deserves to go a little bonkers. As a treat.

[neet-elite]

Tempted — (SDV) Sebastian

Pairing: Sebastian / Reader Genre: Smut 18+ WC: 9,457 Warnings: Heavy foreplay, cheating, virgin reader, manipulative sebastian, dubcon, creampie, brothers best friend, praise, cunnilingus Synopsis: All Sebastian has ever wanted is to fuck his best friends little sister. And tonight, you offer him the opportunity. Even if unknowingly.

A/N: Crossposting this from my AO3. I wont be reposting every fic, but the most “recent” that seem to be popular. For my full catalogue then find my AO3 account in my pinned.

It’s too good an opportunity to pass up. You, sat trembling on his lap while his warm hands rest gently against your exposed thighs, the skirt you had decided to wear today riding up just a little as he lightly strokes his thumbs up and down against the edges of it. There’s just something so… dirty about the whole situation, y’know? Which makes it all the more exciting, his heart positively fit to burst out of his chest at the shy look you give him, the small shake of your thighs every time his thumb swipes against you. If he didn’t know any better, he’d think that just maybe… This is where you’ve wanted to be all along, rather than the excuse you gave upon entering his room.

“You gotta start out slow, okay?” He sighs fondly, resolved in his decision to indulge in just a little bit of fantasy before you prance out of his room and back into the hands of your boyfriend. Even just thinking the word makes him feel sick, wishing deep down that it was him instead— but you’re off limits. Always have been, probably always will be. You know, being Sam’s younger sister and all that: he’s always been forced to swallow his ever growing feelings for you in the name of the bro code. Silly fucking code in his opinion, and yet alas, he’s remained faithful to it. At least up until today, until you timidly entered his room and graced him with your presence to ask one question and one question only.

How does sex work?

It’s obvious that you couldn’t have asked your brother such an embarrassing thing, and upon further questioning it seems you were too scared to admit your virginity to your current boyfriend too. And so here he is, sitting up with his back against his bed headboard with you placed dangerously snug on his lap. He promised himself he wouldn’t let things get too far, after all, you are taken. Like, ignoring the morality of fucking your best friends sister, he also has to account for the ethics of cheating with you, of which he’d like to avoid. Besides, you’re a good girl— evident from the fact that you’re still a virgin, so he can’t imagine you’d be up for more than just a few tips. Even if his cock stirs awake in an effort to convince him otherwise, exhaling a shaky breath before you to try and calm himself down enough to remain level headed about things. That skirt is so cute though, and the way you’re sitting has the backside of it flipped up, meaning that your ass is currently sitting directly against his—

“A-And, don’t let him pressure you into anything you don’t want, ‘kay? If he knows what he’s got, he’ll take it slow with you. But don’t be afraid to say stop.” His voice is low, almost whispered as a distraction against the demure eyes you look at him with. It doesn’t help that you’re so soft under his touch, your inexperience showing clearly from the way you don’t seem to know what to do with your hands, the slight squeeze of your thighs against his own as you effectively straddle his lap. He has to fight with himself not to lean further back against his bed and fuck his hips right up into your clothed cunt, swallowing thickly instead to remain on track. Right. Helping. “Start slow, yeah? You gotta build some tension, make him really want it, okay?” He smiles softly, waiting for you to nod down at him. “Watch, I’ll show you what I mean.”

It’s a selfish action, his words hiding behind faux innocence of just wanting to help, and yet still he allows his hands to wander. Just helping, he’s just answering your question, he tries to convince himself, ignoring the obvious nagging at the back of his mind over just how long he’s waited for this exact situation. Just. Helping. Starting with slow movements up and down the length of your thighs, both hands leaving a finger trail of goosebumps on your skin as you shake on his lap. Has to bite his lip in response to how responsive you are, watching your reactions through hooded lids. You’re so cute, you know that? So pretty as you avoid his gaze, letting your head hang just a little low while he stares you down, tickling his way up to the border of your skirt before placing both hands on your equally as exposed arms. You jump in response to the sudden change, but he hushes you softly. “Just relax into it, yeah? Feels good, doesn’t it?” He coaxes, still smiling casually, as if this were a normal thing for friends to do. Because first and foremost, you are his friend, and he’d hate to ruin things with you because of his barely contained lust. Focusing on running his palms over your shoulders instead of his thoughts, begging to turn his brain off and to just enjoy this moment with you, circling his hands over your skin, up and down your arms with intent on warming you up. Your breaths come out in gasped trembles and it’s how he knows he’s doing a good job, smirking more now at how receptive you’re being. “See? Just a little petting and it already feels good, right?” His cock certainly agrees, twitching at the meek nod you offer in return. He really didn’t need your confirmation, the state of you noticeable from the deep blush you wear all the way to how your hands have finally found home on his chest. The feeling of which causes his back to straighten up more, inadvertently pushing himself further into your touch, not that he thinks you’ve noticed thanks to his wandering hands. And how could you, since it seems this is your first time being touched at all, his fingers creeping under the sleeve of your shirt to thumb at your bra step, digging under it gently just to hear you choke on a gasp. Oh, and you sound so pretty too… Much better than how he’s always dreamed of. He’d like to hear more.

Plus, he thinks you’d like to give more seeing as how you pout down at his feather light touches, the cute look you wear drawing a low laugh from him. “What is it, sweetheart?” He affectionately calls to you, letting one of his hands drop to your hip while the other tilts your chin up, the sight of your cute furrowed brows causing him to sharply inhale air through his otherwise gritted teeth. He’s playing a dangerous game here, he knows, but with a gulp of confidence and a quirk of his brow he continues the private lesson. Just giving you some assistance for your boyfriend, just helping you learn how to act when the time comes.

He’s patient to wait for you to reply, but it seems you aren’t even aware of what it is you’re seeking. It’s cute just how needy you are regardless, fidgeting around on his lap in a quest for what he can only assume is more, but your virgin brain struggles to find the correct words for it. It’s all right, he knows how to help, looking over you once to double check that you still want to continue the lesson. Cautiously, the hand under your chin dips to poke lightly at your neck, right at the thin skin under your ear. “Y’see right here? It’s sensitive. I’m sure your boyfriend would like it if you kiss here.” He whispers, naturally allowing his head to follow his touch as he ducks down to press the smallest of kisses there— completely intending on leaving it at that, but the sweet sound you make in response convinces him to continue. He swallows a deep groan of his own before planting a few more faint kisses down your neck, doing his best to savor your taste when you inevitably have to leave his hold once the lesson is over. It’s not entirely self indulgent, anyone (including your boyfriend) would enjoy such soft and tender touches, and really when he thinks about it— that’s what he’s here to teach you. Though he can scarcely deny the butterflies that fill his lungs as you tilt your neck for more kissable surface area. Blessed with the small squeaks and sighs you let out, your sheer unfamiliarity with the situation stroking his ego so well as he grows more confident in his actions. Slowly rubbing soothing circles against your hip while he lines your neck with kisses, traveling his way across your jaw until he almost makes it to your lips. Though here, he stops. Allows a knowing smirk to tug at his lips at the way you shudder from feeling his breath ghost over your face before laughing a little breathlessly. Not at you, but rather one filled with love and awe. You’re so cute, it’s impossible to control his cock brained actions.

“Your turn.”

Not that he expected much else from you, but the soft shy reaction you give at his two words still sends a chill down his spine and a throb in his cock as he watches your eyes narrow, feeling the weight of your determination as you almost immediately start to mimic his actions by placing your curious hands against his bare arms. It’s a gentle action, one that proves endearing enough through how new you are at it, but he appreciates it nonetheless. He’s honestly a little surprised at how self-assured you are to be able to dive right in, but you won’t find him complaining. Shivering into the light playful rubbing you do up and down his forearms, letting his head lean back a little once you reach up to his biceps. “That’s it, just like that.” He quietly encourages you, letting you explore his body on your own terms without providing much more guidance. It’s more fun to learn hands on anyway, isn’t it? And you’re doing such a good job, too. For a virgin, anyway, but because it’s you he feels you carry this certain charm with you. Your actions send a pleasurable chill down his spine.

“Is this okay?” You suddenly speak, and he’s a little taken aback from how winded you sound from just a little foreplay. Oh, he can’t rightly leave you in the incapable hands of your boyfriend now, can he? He doesn’t trust him to look after you properly, to take his time with you like how he is right now. His mind clouded with you and your touch, ignoring the annoying reminder that you’re off limits— for now, at least.

“Mhm.” He nods, wanting to reassure you as much as possible so that you don’t stop touching him, his body hot with the thought of you feeling his hard cock beneath you. Been hard since you popped the question, if he’s honest. “Jus’ keep going. Remember what I taught you.” He hopes his words are convincing enough, allowing you a moments breather before tapping your thigh for attention. “You can do it. Felt nice, promise.”

And with that encouragement you start once more, letting your fingers linger on his arm before giving him a bashful look. He’s just about to ask you whats wrong but you cut him off completely as you promptly lean down, the feeling of your wet lips attaching to his neck causing him to bite down on his lip to swallow a moan. Thankful that your face is hidden so that you can’t see the way his eyes roll back at such a minor thing, though his hands unfortunately give him away as he accidentally squeezes your hips a little too hard as a way to calm himself down. It’s embarrassing for him to admit, but you truly have him feeling like a virgin again. The way his body reacts to you so easily, slipping down the bed just a little to subconsciously get closer. A small reward for your efforts, wanting to show you just how much you affect him by letting his sneaky hands play with the waistband of your skirt. A small ping here, a gentle tug there, all while you adorn his neck with increasingly confident kisses— just as he did to you. He makes a mental note that you’re a quick learner, a loving smile plastered on his face by the time you manage to kiss along his jaw, his cheeks warm at the sight of your fluttering lashes before him. Here, you also stop. Faces mere inches from each other as you pant against him. Not that he’s doing much better, mind you. His own lungs struggle to keep up with how his night has turned, squeezing once more at your hips as thanks. “Exactly.” He hums, all soft and low so as to not frighten you. “Don’t worry, we’re not actually doing anything…” He trails off upon seeing your wandering eyes, watching closely as they travel down to his lips and then back to his eyes, noticing how your lips part slightly at the minimal amount of petting you’ve endured thus far. And he’s not sure who he’s trying to convince more with his words, your pretty face or his cock— so rock hard just from your close proximity to him. But he leans forward anyway, lets his lips meet yours in just the softest kiss ever, and one he’s overjoyed to feel you immediately reciprocate. “Just practicing.” He whispers against your lips, smiling into the forbidden kiss before he has to pull away lest his tongue slips down your throat in horny eagerness.

He pulls back, takes in the sight of you looking so needy. The harsh heave of your chest, the pink of your cheeks and his saliva coating your lips. Must be your first kiss, huh? Ah, he laughs internally. You sure are a sight to see, and his crush is in full effect as you await further instructions after your stolen first. Your cautious hands taking root in his shirt, fisting it into a tight hold as if you were struggling to keep yourself steady— and all of that from just a small kiss. You’ve got to know just how intoxicating you are, right? How he’s beyond love drunk, smiling down at you with this dumb expression he can only put down to infatuation. “See, doesn’t that feel nice?” He coughs, trying to distract himself from the lewd look you stare back at him with, an attempt to hold onto the last shred of responsibility he has left. “Make sure you go slow with him before moving on to anything else.”

“What’s next?” You quickly ask as soon as he’s done speaking, and he swears you know just what your innocence is doing to him. Though that much is immediately known false, his cock can’t seem to agree. Straining hard against his gray sweats with greedy insistence, begging for you despite the fact that you’re off limits. “What about this?” You ask shyly, dropping your gaze to the fat bulge in his pants.

Well, a little more tutoring wouldn’t be so bad, would it? Especially since you’re asking for it.

“Hm…” He pretends to think, casting his gaze to the side in faux thought while you eagerly tug at his shirt. There’s so much he wants to do with you, filtering through all of his nasty late night fantasies before settling on a tame enough one for your experience difference. He can’t go too far, remember. “Wanna know how to really get your boyfriend going?” He cocks his head to the side to question you, sighing deeply to restrain himself when you reply that yes, you’d like to.

He’s kind enough to at least guide your hand, helping you hop off his lap momentarily to let you sit between his legs now. “Here.” He holds your hand gently, dragging it closer and closer to his cock until you can feel the heat of his arousal directly under your palm. A soft curse escapes his lips, a strained fuck as he feels your fingers twitch against him, the smallest gasp exiting your own lungs as his cock jerks in return. The corruption he’s putting you through only fueling his lust, feeling it pool in the pit of his stomach when you go wide eyed staring at the way his cock trembles for you. How long has he been waiting for this, for you to hold his perverted cock in your tiny hands? Too long, it seems, for the moment you eventually do wrap your hand around it he can’t seem to help but let a growled moan sound. He knows he’s going too far, but he’s wholly incapable of slowing down. Who would, when their dreams are coming true right before their very eyes? Surely your boyfriend wouldn’t blame him for that, right?

“Sebastian?”

“Don’t worry about it. It’s only natural, yeah? Of course I’d get hard, we aren’t gonna actually do anything. Promise. Just— Just bend down for me a little, okay?”

You seem confused at his instructions, and so he tries again. Applying a little pressure to the nape of your neck so that your head lowers, helping you situate your mouth right above his cock while your hand instinctively squeezes around the fat of his length. Oh, you’re such a good learner, aren’t you?

“Like this, okay? There you go.” He smiles wide, laughing lightheartedly at the strain in his voice. He’s got it so bad for you, and it seems you’ve got no idea. Expectantly looking up at him as you stay seated in the position he so kindly manhandled you into. Doggy style, though with your face almost pressed right against his leaking cock. Fuck, shit— maybe this was a bad idea after all, a fat bead of precum dribbling from his tip just from looking at you in such a lewd position. “Fuck— okay, just— Stick your tongue out.” He all but begs, quickly flustering to correct himself with: “Just pretend, remember? Practice.” He inhales sharply when you immediately follow suit, tongue out and pressed against his fat cock just like that. It’s all too easy for him, there’s no way he can hide a moan, looking down at you with such need that he’s sure even your virgin ass could pick up on it, though you’re quick to correct him when you don’t do much more than what he’s asked.

And while he loves the sight of your tongue flat against his hard and hot cock, he’s sure your boyfriend would want more. And by boyfriend, he means himself. “Lick it.” He gasps. And when you send him a questioning expression in return he sighs. “Just trust me, lick it. He’d love that—” his lies are cut off by your followed instructions, the feeling of your tongue gliding up and down over his still clothed cock causing his hips to buck up, voice caught in his throat. He’d apologize if he meant it, but God he doesn’t, not when you look so pretty like this. All eager to please and avoiding his gaze, the small wet spot from his leaking precum soon swallowed up by your cute tongue and leaving his front soaked in your saliva as you busy yourself with following his help until he says otherwise. You’re almost hypnotizing to him, his thumb coming down to stroke kindly at your cheek for your efforts. “Yeah, fuck, he’d like that a lot— I think.” He swallows thickly, his mouth hanging slightly agape as he watches you tongue at his hard on, the dirty nature of getting off without direct content to his cock causing his tummy to tighten. And he’s so desperate too, fuck, has been ever since he can remember. Can’t quite believe his luck knowing now that you’re still a virgin, happily accepting your clumsy experience with open arms. He deserves to be your first, doesn’t he? Been waiting long enough anyway, and as he buries a hand in your hair to help guide your mouth up and down his cock more to his liking he grows more convinced that you are his for the taking. Why else would you allow him to touch you like this? Be your first cock sucked, yeah? Even if it’s only over clothes, he has to take things slow with you. Has to, even if he doesn’t want to. Thing is, his resolve has never been the strongest with you. And his moral compass ever gray. So it’s no surprise that when you decide to look right up at him while licking him through his sweats he chokes. His eyes rolling back into his skull unashamedly while his grip tightens in your hair, fisting at the strands for some sort of stability in the face of your obscene purity. “Mhm—” his tone is almost smug, pouting back down at you as you flick your tongue directly over his sensitive tip. “God— Your— Your boyfriend is so lucky—” He laughs, releasing your hair to instead pet the crown of your head, cooing sweetly when you beam at the praise. Anyone would be lucky to have you it’s true, it just so happens that he’s decided you’re his now. “Sure this is your first time?” He teases, smirking wide at your sudden stop to defend yourself. You’re so easy, though he’s really got no leg to stand on with how hard his cock throbs for you too.

“It is! C’mon, you said you wouldn’t make fun of me…” You huff, pulling off of him and sitting up straight to reprimand him properly. Even like this, he thinks you’re cute. Even when whining he wants to fuck you senseless. Even when you’re clearly embarrassed and acting all shy he thinks you’re the hottest thing he’s ever seen. He’s fucking desperate.

“Oh, I wouldn’t dream of it baby.” He tuts, leaning over to caress your exposed skin some more now that you’re off him. “Besides. I was being honest. You’re really good at it. I really liked it…” He whispers his last words, hoping you don’t hear him before coughing to further obscure his true intentions. “Your boyfriend will really appreciate all your practice, I mean.”

His words seem to sate you for now, though he’s not quite done with you yet, placing both hands on your hips to drag you closer to him while keeping you sat neatly between his legs. “I can show you something else, if you want?” This is a bad idea. This is a really bad idea, but he can’t seem to help himself when you look so wanting before him.

You’re all too keen to nod too, happy with the praise he’s offered you thus far as you plead with your eyes for a little more help.

And he’s only too happy to give.

He’s cautious to remain calming, doing his utmost to care gently for your naive attitude. Because while you are such a good learner, he can still pick up on the slight hesitance on your face. The leftover worries regarding such a new experience— and he’d hate to ruin all that he’s built up tonight. Would never forgive himself if you walked out of his room worse for wear than when you came in, and so he’s soft with it as he taps on your shoulder. “Lay back, trust me.” Tenderly murmuring instructions so as to not overwhelm you too much. Even if his cock is practically ready to burst just from watching you do just that: lay back. The sight of you under him is one he’s only ever fucked his fist imagining, and so now that you’re actually on your back for him like this it takes him a second or two to catch up to reality. His vision hazy and his cock twitching, pointed directly at you and easily seen through to egregious wet patch you’ve not only left yourself but also drawn out from his dribbling tip. More than anything, he’s thankful you decided to wear a skirt today. It makes this private lesson a whole lot easier as he situates himself to hover above you, his pesky pervert hands finding their way to your inner thigh to pinch and hold while the other stabilizes himself by planting down on the bed next to your hip.

“Like this?” You seek his reassurance, and he sucks on his teeth from how small you not only look but also sound.

“Uh-huh, just like that baby.” His hand rubs your thigh up and down, his eyes unfocused and attempting to take in the whole view of you so submissive for him but he’s struggling. Never in his life did he think he’d actually pin you down like this. Fuck. The taboo nature of touching your best friends little sister gets to his head, his heart racing as he inches his fingers up, up, further until he reaches the hem of your hidden panties. His cock throbs at the little gasp you let out when he does so, knowing full well that you’ve no idea why you’re making those sounds and only that it feels right to make them. Exactly, he thinks to himself. If it feels so right, then surely it can’t be that wrong to help you so candidly. It’s all he need to tell himself anyway as he swallows thickly to instruct you some more, bunching up his bedsheets in a fist for some semblance of control. “So pretty like this baby. If you just lay back like this for your boyfriend then— Oh.” His fingers graze against your panties, thumb pressing gently against the wet patch over your hole as he seeks to please you instinctively. For a moment, it feels like he can’t breathe. All time stopped as he watches your reaction intently, more precum leaking from his tip when you scrunch up your face in interest. Has to stall himself abruptly and momentarily else he’s liable to just shove his cock in right there and then, face flushed and fingers twitchy. He wants to makes you feel so good that you forget all about your boyfriend, internally telling himself that to do just that, he has to remain patient. “He should— If he’s a good boyfriend then he should take his time with you, okay? I’ll show you what I mean.”

You tense up a little as he shuffles closer, bending down to mimic the position he had you in earlier. Both hands come under your ass to lift you up, meeting his face half way before you scurry to pull your skirt down over yourself. “S-Sebastian, wait—!” You panic, and his heart stutters at how cute you sound all confused.

“It’s okay, shh.” He coos at you, nevertheless not stopping despite your hesitance. “We’re not gonna do anything. Jus’ wanna show you what your boyfriend should be doing. So you know what to expect, remember?” He lies through his teeth, fully intending on doing that which he’s just promised not to. It’s just— he can treat you so much better, y’know? Has to take this chance while he’s got you literally in the palm of his hands, squeezing at your ass just to hear you gasp some more. There isn’t a prettier sound in the world if you asked him than you needy embarrassed whines while his breath fans over your thighs, his nose nudging knowingly at your skirt until he flips it up with his face in one swift motion— his hands too busy cupping your ass cheeks to do the job themselves. Besides, the squeak you let out at his flirty advance is more than worth it with how hard his cock jerks to fuck another one out of you. “You gotta make sure he does this with you. Otherwise, he’s not worth it sweetheart.” He confidently asserts, peeking out from between your thighs just to watch your eyes widen in surprise. Sure, you’ve no idea what he’s talking about, but thats why he’s doing this. To show you exactly what he means, wolf whistling once his eyes cast back down towards your plain panties. Even here looks pure, so innocent are your white panties that he can barely stand the sight of them. Not as a turn off, but because he adores them, loves you so much that even this small symbol of your innocence is enough to rile him up. Who was he kidding, there’s no way he was ever going to be able to last the moment you walked into his room. No chance in hell at keeping himself composed as you sit there obediently, his fingers itching to stretch you out properly already. But they’re too occupied absentmindedly squeezing your ass, keeping him calm and collected enough to at least still communicate his desires with you, his sweatpants growing insufferably tight with how hard his cock aches for you. Not a single thought given to the ethics of touching your best friends taken little sister any more now that he’s face to face with your virgin cunt. Unable to stop himself from sniffing at it like a dog, his cock drooling to the humiliated whines you let out. “Fuck—” he quickly shoves out his mouth, shuddering from your mere scent alone. While you may not know it personally, your body sure seems to want him.

And so he gives in to you once again, repeating the previous actions he had you endure by letting his tongue lay flat against your wet spot and sucking hard. Far harder than you deserve for your first time, but he can’t stop himself. Just one little taste through your wet little panties alone and he’s hooked, grabbing at the fat of your ass with much more urgency as he immediately flattens his tongue in an attempt to swallow you whole, running it up and down your hidden slit before placing a greedy kiss right over where your clit is. It's stupid how erotic things feel despite still remaining fully clothed, his cock harder than it’s ever been just from lapping away at your panties, huffing harshly at the primitive urge he feels to put you in your place. “Taste so good, yeah?” He pants, too deep into his delusions now as your cunt rests against his face to keep up the facade of just helping. “Jus’ a little more, okay? Jus’ need to— need t’move these.” He whispers against your underwear, his breath doing little to cool you down with the heated kisses he presses against you in between his gasped words. And he doesn’t even wait for your consent, dropping you down with an urgency that he’ll apologize for later before peeling your sticky panties off your cunt and down your legs, the shocked whine you let you and the immediate closing of your legs causing a growl to rise to his lips. He’s quick to move though, digging his fingers into your thighs to pry them open again and humming deeply at the sight that greets him. A wet and ready cunt. “Pretty.” He seethes, jaw tight and tummy tense with just how much he wants you, how eager he is to prove his worth to you. That, and the fact that you have the cutest little cunt he’s ever seen, salivating over you as you attempt to hide those adorable expressions he so badly wants to enjoy. It’s fine, he’ll see them soon enough, smiling away to himself when he lets go of your legs and you keep them open. Such a good girl, aren’t you? And for your first time too! He’s so proud of you, making sure you know just how much by trailing soft kisses down your open thigh. Murmuring sweet nothings on his way down to his goal, a trail of saliva in his wake until he once against meets your cunt with a grunt.

Not much else is said for a few long seconds, his own words lost on him at just how good your cunt smells, too focused on making sure he doesn’t bust a load before he has a chance to satisfy you to adequately voice his love for you, and he assumes you’re quiet out of sheer anticipation for what he’s about to do next. You’ve no idea, and that excites him to no end. Has his cock all twitchy, one of his hands lowering to palm over the too sensitive tip to release some of the built up tensions he holds for you. He’s got no time to tend to himself fully though, merely content to just palming at his cock while his free hand spreads your pussy lips apart. To any normal person, maybe even including your boyfriend, they might get embarrassed if they were acting as fraught with need as he is right now— but it’s hard to care about such things when his tongue rolls up your slit, openly drooling down it with a shuddered moan exhaled right against your puffy clit. Virgin cunt tastes so good, and he lets you know just how much he’s enjoying himself by lowering his head to make out with your hole. All messy and sloppy, he simply can’t afford to act any other way with you right now. Not when you make just the prettiest little whimpers, his efforts doubling the moment he feels your hand fist at his hair for stability. So good, such a good baby, doing exactly what he wants without prompting— this is why you should be with him and not your lame ass boyfriend. Look at how much you squirm on his tongue, the way your legs shake as he fucks it in and out of your untouched little hole, squeezing his cock hard at the thought of adding that to the list of firsts he’s taking from you. Getting off himself from getting you off, adding in the pressure of his thumb to your clit as he laps up everything your hole offers him, his head spinning with the sounds of your enjoyment while you claw at his scalp for any sort of purchase— but it’s no use. Hearing you cry out for him to stop, hold on a second! And feels funny, Seb—! only encourages him to keep going, the wisdom of previous sexual encounters he has over you looming between your legs as he sucks at your slick faster, incentivised to stroke the whole length of his cock over his (for all intents and purposes, see through) sweatpants when your legs clamp down over his head. Best earmuffs he’s ever worn, honestly. Though he can still hear the loud sob of his name loud and clear falling from your pretty lips as you very quickly, and easily, cum on his tongue. Not that he’d expected much else from a virgin, but still the speed at which you moan for him strokes his ego about as well as he imagines your cunt will in a minute, your back arching so nicely off his sheets as you ride his face to completion. He only comes up for air once he’s absolutely sure he’s drank every last drop of cum you offer him, and also because you start to push him away from overstimulation. You can’t rightly blame him for wanting to remain tongue pressed between your sticky thighs, you taste so fucking good, and now that he’s had that taste— he’s never gonna let you go. Big brother Sam and your boyfriend be dammed, he’ll brand your insides as his by the end of the night.

He’s gasping as he comes up, suddenly aware of his frenzied state as he has a chance to look you up and down. But oh, what a mistake that is. Your messy hair, body all blushed and shaking, a mess of fluids painting your legs pretty. He could cum right there and then if he’d allow himself too, stopping the shameful inevitable with a rough fist firmly choking the base of his cock. Something within him snaps when you reach out for him, all teary eyed and practically begging for more with the cute pout you wear. It’s enough to have him crawling up you, tugging his sweats down just enough to have his cock hang out before placing both hands at either side of your head. It’s difficult to focus on the task at hand rather than his selfish objectives when you offer yourself up on a silver platter like this, but he does his best anyway. “Make sure he makes you cum first, just like that, okay? He has to get you prepped enough for— Ah, fuck.” His exposed cock grazes against your slippery cunt and disrupts his teaching, instantly his hips buck into the warm heat and slip up to knock against your clit. And upon hearing your muted moan he reflexively repeats the action, humping his precum up your slit with infuriating precision. Can’t quite believe how close he is already, having to mentally remind himself to slow down, all the way until he’s eventually strong enough to stop. Difficult as it is, he still cares about you enough to give you a small breather before taking what was always his. “Oh, you feel so good. Just… Just the tip won’t hurt, okay? Only the tip, I promise.” He hushes your high pitched whines, tenderly brushing his open palm against your shaking shoulder for reassurance. “Promise, baby. It’s not cheating if it’s just the tip, okay? Just so you can see how it feels.” He hides behind a smile while whispering falsehoods down your ear, almost completely bent over you and pressing you further into the mattress below with no intention on keeping his word. Not that you realize, of course. A weak little nod as consent and he’s pouncing on you.

Sure he can’t just thrust it into you, but fuck if he doesn’t want to more than anything he’s ever wanted in his life. Wanting to go the same speed he usually fucks his fist to when thinking about his best friends little sister, all those festivals and band sessions you were present at while he was too busy petting his pervert cock— he wants to shove it into you so bad. But he’s nicer than that, or perhaps more cunning is the right word. If he’s slow with it now, letting his fat cock catch on gently to your dripping hole and stroking himself against it slowly, making sure you’re comfortable and happy enough for him to continue by rubbing smooth circles against your hips and praising you from his higher position, then maybe you’ll see just how much of a better option he is. “Look at you.” He mocks, though it’s said only with adoration, as if he can’t quite believe just how naughty you manage to look while taking cock for the first time. Your enjoyment apparent as he jerks off against you by your open mouthed mewls, your unfocused eyes attempting to beg for more from him, and he’ll give you it. Don’t worry, he doesn’t think he could stop even if he wanted to— and he certainly doesn’t want to do that. “You want it? Oh, your body wants it so bad— Can you feel that? Hear how wet you are? Ah, promise. Promise just the tip, okay? It’s only fair. It’s only fair since I made you cum first, kay?” He laughs lovingly, giving you only a second more to catch up to the situation before gently, far too gently for his tastes, pushing his tip further into you. A collective sigh shared upon his intrusion, his heart beating so hard in overwhelming pleasure from how tight your virgin hole is. So warm and wet, welcoming his leaking tip so well after he tongue fucked one orgasm out of you already. Still, he notices the pain wash over your face, his head lowering to meet your level with a hushed tone. “Oh, baby... I know it hurts, I know.” He sucks on his teeth, trying to bear himself to how snug this fit is, stretching your never fucked before cunt out with his fat cock, thankful for the copious amounts of precum he’s dribbling inside of you mixing with the slick you gush out each time he shifts a little closer, pushes his cock more in the smallest amount. He’d never want to hurt you, but he knows that if you put up with him for just a bit longer, he’ll have you crying from pleasure instead. Softly wiping your tear stained cheeks with another muted whisper. “It's all right, just breathe for me. It’ll real feel good real soon, and then— Fuck, and then what you gotta do to impress your boyfriend is— is wrap your legs around my back, yeah? C’mon, look at me.” He ends up begging, his brows knitted and thighs shaking as he takes you for the very first time. Patiently waiting for your eyes to open and rest on his, a small smile breaking out on his face when you finally manage it. “There ya go. Pretty girl…” He pauses, allowing you a moment to just breathe with his cock tip sitting nicely inside your cunt. And then: “My pretty girl.” As soon as you follow through with his instructions, keeping him pressed against you missionary style with your legs locked around him. He wishes he had taken the time to undress you, to love on your whole body as well as showcase his own, because he knows you’d love the skin on skin contact— but he’s not got the time nor the patience to go through that process right now. The heart wants what his cock needs, and right now that means being buried so deep in your cunt immediately so that all you can feel is him.

He moves without warning. Not that it was his intention, but the pitiful whine you let out at his words causes his cock to take control. A small hump, but it’s enough to knock the wind out of him with how ruined you sound immediately following. A matched cry from the way he splits you in two, despite his minimal movements, he knows this must be scary for you. “Just a bit more, okay? Promise, only a little more. You’re so close to taking it all, yeah?” He misleads you, his cock throbbing at the mere mention of fucking more into your poor little cunt. But still, you nod up at him. Even through babbles of pain and shaky breaths of uncertainty you trust him enough to keep going, and it proves fatal to his self control. Restraint forgotten about the moment you whisper his name. A soft, broken sound spilling from such pretty lips. There’s no way, no fucking way, he could hold back after that. And he’ll apologize to you later for his rashness, sure, but in this moment he’s absolutely powerless to stopping his hips from bucking into you. Pushing the rest of his cock into your warm hole until his balls finally rest against your ass, your skirt bunched up in your own small hands for some sort of comfort, but fuck it’s the cutest thing he’s ever seen. The oppositional sight of his cock stuffed fully inside your tight little cunt and the innocent action of tugging on your skirt goes straight to his balls, all tight and taut and want to mark you from the inside out— but he stalls. Lets his cock rest inside of you for now, taken to doting on you from above to distract himself enough to not cum already.

“That’s it— Look!” He breaks into a kind laugh. “You took it all in. Took me all in, yeah? Told ya, a natural. Fuck, you feel so good—” His cock throbs some more, thick beads of precum spilling out inside for your comfort, his eyes briefly rolling back from the way your walls choke his length at his words. “Promise to make you feel good too, okay? Show you how your boyfriend should be doing it.” He continues to lie, bending down to press a barely there kiss to your sweaty forehead only to pull back up. He wants to watch you fall apart. Needs to see the moment you realize that after all this time, he’s been right here, waiting, patiently, for you to realize his presence. That he could be everything you could ever want for and more. Gradually drawing his hips back and his cock with him, choking at the sight of your silent moan from the feeling, and then calmly pushing back in. The confused stare you regard him with makes him dizzy, working on autopilot as his hands come down to hold on to the back of your knees and gently pushes them down while he starts a lazy pace into you, biting down on his lip from his front row seating as your expression slowly turns into one of pleasure with the slow in and out he forces you to endure. He feels as though he’s melting into you, the stupidly lewd squelch of his cock steadily fucking into your hole, the wet pap! of his balls every time he fully sheathes inside of you, God, he’s so fucking in love. Simply mesmerized to the sight of you taking cock so well, and for your first time too! And the sweet sounds you make every time he forces his way back inside, molding your insides to the shape of his cock— he never wants to hear anything else again. Cursing lowly to himself at the realization of just how badly he wants— no, he needs you to be his. “Feelin’ good, pretty?” He asks you, a cocky smirk spreading on his lips when you mumble a subdued yes. “Told ya— Ah, told ya it’d feel good.”

This is just the start though, his hips experimentally fucking just that little bit faster into you to satisfy his forever urges, though your reaction is instantaneous. A quick breathy intake of air as you attempt to pull your skirt closer to your face, inadvertently flashing him more of your body despite your want to hide. Cute soft tummy that one of his hands immediately presses into, forcing a laugh out of his struggling lungs at your adorable display. And then it fully hits him. He’s fucking his best friends little sister, finally, after all those years— His pace snapping into a more brutal one at the thought, far too quick for your first time and only made more evident from the surprised wail you let you as he begins fucking into you like you deserve. Short snappy thrusts into your tight cunt, a resounding smack of his balls hitting against you filling the space left between his grunts and your moans, harsh huffs for air fanning over you as he adds a little more pressure to your spread legs. “O-Oh my God.” He manages to stutter out, unable to take his eyes off you as they flit between your puffy cunt and your pretty fucked out expression. He’s practically drooling over your reactions. “Jus’ for practice. It’s just practice—” he reassures you, filling your hole up so full, much fuller than you’ve ever experienced before with his quick fucks. Fucking so fast that his head goes empty, a babbled “Good girl, good girl—” over and over again down at you at the feeling of your walls squeezing him, your soft little mewls turning more high pitched and cracked with each eager drag of his cock. Can’t help but dig his fingers into your thighs, his head hanging low while he sits up a little off the back of his heels to fuck into you at a deeper angle. It’s obviously too much for you, the seemingly tell-tale shake in your legs letting him know that you’re close again, and he can’t fucking stop himself. “You gave me your virginity. You gave it to me.” He growls, a playful lilt to his tone at the embarrassment present on your face, the way you pull him closer at his dirty words like just hearing them was shameful, though he easily gives you the contact you’re seeking until his chest is pushed right against your own and his mouth latches on to your neck to suck just a little. A small reminder of your lesson, if you will. “You gonna remember everything that I’ve taught you?” He whispers down your ear, and he’s sure you can hear the smirk through his voice with how tight you clench around his speedy thrusts. Running his mouth more than he’d like just simply because your cunt feels that good, has him in a choke hold. “Maybe you don’t need him. Maybe you should just be with me instead, huh? Mhm. I think you should just be my girl.” His confession emphasized with slower but deeper thrusts into you. Really taking his time to fuck his full length into you, breathing deeply to continue his long awaited admission by way of letting his lips connect with your own. A messy kiss, more tongue than anything as he shoves it down your throat to drip saliva for you to drink up, openly moaning into your mouth just as much as he swallows your own for himself.

It feels too good, your little virgin cunt sucking him off better than anyone else has, persuading himself that this must mean that you’re his, right? “Only do this with me, okay?” He whispers in between sloppy sucks of your tongue. “If it feels so good with me, why would you wanna do it with anyone else? You should just be mine instead.” He all but groans, his tone throaty and dry despite the clumsy kisses, voice fucked out of him by how well your cunt takes him. And it’s clear you aren’t doing much better, able only to nod back at him with a cute dumb look on your face, his mind reeling with sadistic want to fuck it off of you. Grinding his fat cock into you with his hips flush against your ass, his rough thumb coming down to swipe over your abused clit only for a few seconds before he can feel you cream his cock. And fuck if it isn’t the best feeling he’s ever experienced, mind completely blank with the show you put on for him. One of his hands remains on your knee, pushing it down further so he has a better view of your cunt convulsing around his cock, his tip dribbling so much for you at the feeling of your slick trickling out at every small hump he offers you. It feels better than he could have ever imagined, your cute cunt already promising to ruin his every future experience unless it’s with you, and so he lets your ride your orgasm out with the addition of light flicks to your clit. A gentle push of his cock as he rests flush against you, at least until you’ve finally stopped shaking so much and your breathing is more stabilized from your first fucked orgasm.

“Look so pretty when cumming, angel.” He praises you, a sneaky smile on his lips as he once again returns his hand to your other knee, pushing your legs down as far as you’ll allow him while he completely rises off his heels now. His stance looming over you as he tenderly gazes at your barely open eyes, the dopey smile you wear telling him all he needs to know as he pulls his hips back hopefully for the last time tonight— and then fucks back into you as hard as he can. Practically bouncing you up his sheets from how powerful his thrusts are, his words gasped and trembling from the amount of weight he throws behind each thrust. Not that he hears you complaining, instead a stream of broken moans and half started cries of his name spill from your lips. Pretty. “Want me to cum inside? It’s only fair. I’m gonna be all your firsts.” He utters, voice all strained and forced as if it pains him to talk right now. And it does, your cunt wrapped so nice and tight around his cock that it’s difficult to make any sound besides moans, so warm and wet with your two orgasm that it’s a struggle to even think anything coherent. Though it doesn’t take him long to give you what you want seeing as he’s been hard practically since you showed up in his room in that cute outfit. At the very least he’s happy to have made you cum twice, and for truly being your every first. First kiss, first oral, first orgasm, first fuck. And now, your first creampie. Your name falling from his lips in a hushed gasp almost as quickly as you plead for him to finish inside, all breathy and barely there from how powerful his orgasm is when spilling his seed deep into your tiny cunt. His best friends sister, tainting you forever with his cum as he continues to fuck himself into your tight hole, fucking his cum deeper against your womb in a primal effort to mark your insides. The grip he has of your thighs tightens as he milks himself inside of you, nails digging into your skin with a soft apology, barely conscious of what it is he’s doing until it’s already done. And even as he’s running empty and satisfied with how stuffed you are, even then his hips won’t stop, continuing to stroke himself lazily into your overfilled with cum cunt until you whine for him to stop. “Sorry— fuck, I’m sorry—” he uselessly rambles, wincing as he pulls out of you only to stare down at your used hole. Shocked at the amount of cum that spills out of you, looking up at you apologetically until you smile wide back at him.

“Thanks, Seb.” You whisper, all cute and silly. It causes him to mirror your grin regardless though, tucking his spent cock away and shuffling to lay beside you rather than forcing your surely exhausted body into any further movement. You’re so attractive all the time, it’s no wonder he was unable to treat you any differently tonight.

“My pleasure.” He hums, laying an arm over your tummy and resting his chin atop your head. He’s so happy. So completely overjoyed with being able to be your first everything and managing to confess his love for you in one go. It’s a little dizzying if he’s honest, but he can’t help but be hopeful at the way you snuggle back in against him, turning to your side to nuzzle your face against his chest. Even the sound of your deep breathes is alluring to him, so obsessed with all that you are that he pulls you even closer, his softening cock slowly but surely growing harder at your soft affections. “I was being serious, you know.” He suddenly says, though there’s a hint of hesitance in his voice.

“About what?” You sleepily yawn, taking hold of his shirt once more. A comfort thing, he’s sure, but he’s still so in love with the feeling that it coaxes the words right out of his mouth.

“About you… Being with me. I’d like that. Makes sense, too. Since y’know…”

You don’t say anything back, and he thinks that’s fine. A lot has happened tonight, and he’s willing to wait for your eventual answer. Though he worries he’s maybe ruined the mood just a little with his heartfelt emotions, and so he flusters to fix the apparent issue with a breathless laugh. “Just… Y’can’t tell Sam, okay?”

“Promise.” You reply, and given the amount of promises he’s told you tonight, he’s not sure if you’re telling the truth or not. Swallowing the mounting fear of Sam finding out he’s messed with his beloved baby sister by kissing the top of your head a few times. Though he did thoroughly enjoy fucking you for the first time, he’d like to share more soft moment like these with you too. Delicate and giggly, the hand he has over your tummy drawing a hidden I love you against your skin while you cuddle into him. He’ll clean you up later, like the gentleman he is. But for now, he’s happy to simply exist beside you and praise you for how well you did for your first time. Sweet reassurances and smiled fondness. He loves you, and despite his less than kind actions tonight, he thinks you might just love him back.

[babyleostuff]

scary movie | kim mingyu

author's note | this is so self indulgent, but i love scary movies and i know for a fact that Mingyu would hate me for making him watch them with me

“Did you have fun, baby?”

“No, I did not,” Mingyu whined, for what felt like the hundredth time that evening. 

One would assume that a 6 '2 man made out of pure muscle wouldn’t be afraid of anything, especially not a couple of bad jumpscares and eerie music, but your boyfriend seemed to be an exception. 

You knew very well what you were doing, persuading him to watch a scary movie with you. For the whole duration of the movie his head was hidden in the crook of your neck and his hands were holding onto your arms like his life depended on it. 

With every louder sound he’d flinch and whine, making you chuckle, because nothing is more adorable than your giant puppy of a boyfriend acting like a scared little child, because of some silly movie. 

“Like, what's so fun about being scared?” he wondered, still clutching onto your arm, despite the credits already rolling. 

“I don’t know,” you shrugged, mindlessly caressing the back of his neck. “But I like it.” 

“And it’s also an excuse for me to hold you for a couple of hours,” you added and laughed at the loud whine that he let out. 

“You do not need to hold me. I would be fine on my own,” he said, lifting his head to look at you. 

Both of you knew that it was a lie. 

He would never be able to watch anything remotely scary without jumping into your arms. His messy hair and the pout on his lips were a statement, that in fact, his soul would leave his body if you weren’t near him.

“Ah, of course,” you said. “Kim Mingyu never gets scared of anything.” 

He nodded, finally letting go of your arm and straightening his back for the first time since you began watching the movie. Did he try to look more confident because he wanted to look cool or just to comfort himself that he didn’t just act like a baby because of a scary movie? 

The answer was so obvious. 

As you turned to grab the remote, a loud bang came from the TV, a last jumpscare of the movie as the screen turned black. 

In a millisecond, Mingyu was clutching onto you again, his arms wrapped tightly around your waist and his head hidden in your lap. He let out a loud scream, which made you more scared than the whole movie itself. 

“You were saying?” you chuckled, gently pulling at the short strands of his hair. 

He mumbled something inaudible, knowing that there was no use in trying to explain himself. 

“You’re seriously the cutest human being on earth,” you could hear the loud protests coming from him, yet, he did nothing to untangle himself from your body. 

You turned the TV off, leaving only the side lamp to illuminate your living room. You shifted your position, so the both of you would be more comfortable and pulled Mingyu higher, so he could lay on your chest. 

He nuzzled his head further into you, resting his arms around your body. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders as best as you could and put one of your hands at the back of his head. 

“If the monsters come out at night, will you protect me?” he whispered. 

“I’ll always protect you.”

[cerise-on-top]

Cuddling HCs

TF141, LVQ, Valeria, Graves, Alex, Farah, Laswell and Nikolai, again. These are the last batch of HCs I have written out for now. I do have two stories written out, one for Ghost and one for Graves, but I'm not sure I should post those. Anyway, for the most part these are sleepy cuddles, I suppose. Very self-indulgent, but that's what writing something like this is in general. SFW and gender neutral, as per usual.

Price: He’s a captain, so naturally he loves being the one to hold you, doesn’t matter if you’re spooning or you’re safely tucked away under his chin. Of course, he’s the big, strong man in whatever your relationship may be, so he just wants to protect you. He’s so used to taking care of others and making sure they’re alright, that it comes second nature to him to try and make you feel safe too. If you ever suggested him being the one to be held he’d smile, almost laugh, at the idea, thinking it to be rather silly. But when he’s in your arms for once? He gets very comfortable and sleepy, it never occurred to him that being cuddled would be so nice. He has no qualms about asking you to hold him either, he knows you understand.

Gaz: Such a cuddlebug, honestly. You wanna hold him? You wanna be held by him? Either is fine, as long as you switch it up from time to time. Becomes especially cuddly if he’s tired, that’s when he’d love to simply grab you and lie down for the night with you. Even just a nap is alright, in spite of him not taking them very often. Loves putting his head on your chest, something about hearing a loved one’s heartbeat is just so calming to him. Every time you’re cuddling he simply closes his eyes and there’s a chance he might just fall asleep. While he might be willing to engage in conversation while cuddling, don’t expect him to always respond with full sentences, sometimes he’ll barely even hear you with how relaxed he is. Doesn’t have an iron grip on you, but it will tighten for a moment when you try to get up. That’s when he snaps back to reality and needs to remember where he is for a moment.

Ghost: This guy is actually so touch-starved, but he’d rather do anything else than admit it as he’s afraid of becoming too much. Give him a taste of what a good cuddle session is like, he’ll think about it constantly. The first few times will be him holding you only. After that? You may request holding him, if you ask him a few times he’ll crumble eventually. It’s one thing to hold someone, because if you do it right then they can’t hurt you. But being held? Being spooned, cradled or given affection otherwise? He actually becomes so soft. If you gently rub his back or run your hand over his skin otherwise you can get him to fall asleep and snore softly. Doesn’t move in his sleep but good luck trying to get out of his grasp. If it’s you he’ll try to not have an iron grip and hurt you, but it’s not exactly something he can control either when he’s asleep.

Soap: Despite being open to either, he prefers being the one to hold you. It makes him feel more masculine, but that’s what he tells himself. In reality he simply sleeps more easily holding something, or someone. When he falls asleep holding you, you can actually watch his facial expression be relaxed, his mouth somewhat curving upwards too. Nuzzles into you like there’s no tomorrow, either that or he’s nestling into you like a dog or cat moving the blanket to make it just that bit more comfortable. Sleepy talks are a given for him, he loves hearing about anything and everything as he takes in your warmth. In return, he’ll tell you about how he convinced Gaz he stepped on a ladybug, when it was really just a red Skittles. If you’re spooning and he’s feeling a little bit mischievous he might graze your tummy with his hands to make you giggle.

Alejandro: He has a high rank, but he’s aware of how cathartic being held can be. Thus he’s not above asking you for some cuddles. If neither of you have anything important going on, he might just pick you up and carry you to the nearest soft surface. Loves gently scratching your scalp and feel you melt under his touch, especially if you only respond to him via humming after some time. He slightly prefers holding over being held, but on a bad day he loves nothing more than to have you run your fingers through his hair instead. If you’re lying on a bed together then he loves facing you, whoever moves first to hold the other gets to be the bigger person for the time being. Very much a talker before sleepy time, he has so much to tell you about. Besides, hearing your voice heals his soul just as much as being physically close to you.

Rodolfo: He’s more inclined to admit he’s touch-starved than Ghost, but he feels a bit embarrassed to do that. Likes holding you, but if he could choose, then he’d choose to be held every single time. There’s just something so nice about not having to worry about a thing, about being the one who gets protected for once. Trust me when I say that if something were to happen he’s the first one to jump into action, he can be quite ruthless, but putting your trust into someone else, difficult as it may be, really pays off when you have found the right person. However, even if you just hold his hand while you’re lying next to each other, he’s quite content. Not much of a talker, plus he gets a bit self-conscious as well. He’s a sergeant major, that’s not too low of a rank, should he really be the one to get treated like this? Pull him close to you and reassure him that you love any sort of cuddling with him from time to time and he’ll be very happy, though.

Valeria: Much like a hug from her, it’s hard to get her to cuddle you. She’s not entirely opposed to it after a lot of time has passed, but she will be cautious. Even then, she’ll, for the most part, only agree to spooning, but she will absolutely never be the smaller spoon. It doesn’t matter how awful she feels, she’ll never be comfortable in that position. She doesn’t have the most time for that sort of thing either, something always comes up and she can barely get any rest. While she likely won’t fall asleep cuddling someone, what you can do to ease her nerves is give her a plushie. She’ll scoff and make fun of it, but she appreciates it. Hell, from time to time she’ll fall asleep cuddling it and think of you. As much as she hates to admit it, if she’s had it for long enough she’ll grow a bit softer around you and give just the tiniest amount of more physical affection. Don’t mention it, though. She’s aware, but she can’t particularly help it.

Graves: Another guy who prefers holding. However, it’s much harder to get him to be the one being held. He has too much pride for that sort of thing. Yes, he dishes out physical affection like it’s nothing, but he’s rarely on the receiving end, especially for something along the lines of cuddling. And yes, that is because of his own doing. If you beg and plead enough, though, he might let you. Feels pretty indifferent to being held, but if it makes you truly happy he can indulge you once or twice. But be aware, the second he can, he will switch it around so you’re being held again. You can fight all you want, even when he’s tired it’ll likely be a losing battle for you. Not too much of a talker when he’s about to sleep, but he’s more than happy to listen to you talk about whatever is on your mind. Loves having you bury your face in your chest and fall asleep like that, like Soap, it makes him feel very manly and needed.

Alex: It doesn’t matter to him which way you want it, he’s happy with any position and any role. Hell, he’s a true switch at heart when it comes to something like this. Loves just coming up to you and putting his arms around you. And if either of you are tired the chances of that happening increase exponentially. Nuzzles into you, adjusts himself so both of you are comfortable, might hum a small melody as well. Latter is something he sort of just picked up from Farah, but he likes the idea of humming a small tune to make you relax. Not too much of a talker, he just gets sleepy when he gets to cuddle you. If it isn’t too hot then you can expect him to grab a fluffy blanket and put it over the two of you, even if he doesn’t want to let you go. Nothing beats holding a loved one and hearing them talk about anything and everything while under a comfortable blanket.

Farah: Gives off the impression that she prefers to do the holding, loves being held just as much. It grounds her and reminds her of her cause. As mentioned, she might hum a tune when she’s very comfortable, or when she wants to calm you down. During night time, there’s a chance she might become just a tad more melancholic, but it won’t deter her from sleeping. She does sleep especially well if the both of you are cuddling. If she trusts you enough she can go any way with cuddling as well. Her and Alex seem to influence each other quite a bit. While she may not have the most time to cuddle with you, she does like to do so whenever she can, it reminds her of some good, gone-by times. Despite not liking to dwell too much on the past, there’s nothing wrong with remembering the nice things that have happened. Life can’t always be suffering.

Laswell: Not always too big on cuddling, but she does like it from time to time. When she’s had a rough and exhausting day, nothing beats holding a loved one under the covers. It’s those days that she sort of does think about being held from time to time, putting her head on your chest. Her job is rough, so having someone and something to do to decompress is a pleasant change of pace. Cuddles are infrequent, mostly because of her job requiring her to be everywhere at once, but it’s worth it when she does have the time. Not much of a talker when she’s just about to fall asleep, but doesn’t mind you talking either. She especially loves it when you tell her a funny anecdote or a joke, it’s something soft and easy to drift off to sleep to. Her brain goes haywire, even in her sleep, but when she falls asleep cuddling you then she dreams about you very often too.

Nikolai: You’d need to be especially close for some cuddles, but once you are, then you can just go for it. As long as he isn’t busy and you aren’t in public you can just walk up to him and wrap your arms around him. If you drag him onto a couch, a bed or any other soft surface he’ll just let you. It’s a bit funny to him, he lets you do just about anything, you get away with so much, even though, if he really wanted to, he could eliminate you in just about every way possible. Loves cradling your head and pressing it to his chest. More of a cuddler, but if you ask to hold him, you may. Takes a while to fall asleep, but if you’re awake to hear it, you can hear him slip up from time to time. In the linguistic sense. He knows eight languages, it’s not gonna get more coherent when he’s about to doze off. His grip, however, does not falter when he’s asleep. Once you’re stuck, you’re stuck with him and you won’t get out of his grasp until he wakes up again.

[tteokdoroki]

*ੈ🌩️‧₊˚— marry me + katsukl bakugou.

૮˶ᵕ ༝ᵕ˶ა synopsis — katsuki bakugou knows two things for certain. that he loves you and that he’s not afraid of anything… so why are these two simple words so hard to say?

⭑ warnings — please read + mdni ! characters aged up, fluff, high school sweethearts, proposals, pro hero!bakugou, fem!reader.

⭑ words — 2.2K.

⭑ notes — ok so this is an older commission that was clearly written for valentines day but i loved writing it and its super sweet and i think bakugou deserves some sweetness on his birthday so pls take it and enjoy!! ( thank you to @quaranweeb for letting me post!) - m.list ✩

love is weird. 

love makes you do crazy things. 

at least that’s what bakugou thinks, standing here, in the middle of a cotton candy pink shopping aisle— bombarded with obnoxious and in your face bouquets of roses and cards with love hearts or corny messages inside. there’s an entire day dedicated to the celebration of love— rolling around every year instead of being celebrated constantly throughout. he finds it weird.

but here he is, a little lost and confused in the middle of an aisle dedicated to valentine’s day looking for the perfect bunch of flowers, the perfect card, the perfect little gift for the most perfect person who has ever stepped foot into his life. 

you.

you’re something, someone, worth indulging even on this silly holiday. you’ve given katsuki more love than he could ever ask for and more than he thinks he deserves. so, of course he’d want to spoil you with his big plans today, even if they make him nervous or cause a burning bright red blush to spread across his cheeks and neck just at the thought of them. big plans on the day that couples play charades and pretend that they’re happy for the sake of social media. pretend that they’re like you and him— eternal, well and truly in love. 

katsuki bakugou used to hate valentine’s day , never believed in the commercialisation of it all— nor the kids in class squealing over who had gotten love notes or little chocolates in the shapes of hearts and cupid’s arrows. it almost embarrassed him, to have people he’d never met fawn over him and confess their affections towards the blonde. he didn’t deserve it, he had always thought. 

loving someone isn’t supposed to fix you, it’s not a tool but instead something beautiful to be shared. yet somehow, on that valentine’s day all the way back in katsuki’s third year, you’d mended him. put a bandaid on his broken heart and healed him when you confessed your admiration for him— how strong he was, how brave he was despite all that he’d been through. your speech had been heartfelt, not superficial, meaningful in the way that made the blonde feel like his soul was being seen for the first time. 

you’d taken his hands, albeit a little sweaty, under one of the winding trees outside of the U.A dorms and said. ‘i like you, katsuki, even if you don’t feel the same— or can’t say it back. i want you to know that i like you.’ there was no pressure in your voice or whiny insistence like the other’s who had been in your position…even back then katsuki had known you would love him for the rest of your life if given the chance. and he had known it too, murmuring his mutual feelings back to you under the grumbles that sat heavy on his tongue.

from there, he’d opened up a little more— accepted kisses from your sweet lips without flinching away again and craved the type of hugs where you buried your face into his chest because the scent of him comforted you. you embraced the cold together, passionate embers of your young romance keeping you warm for years to come, and now the chilly month of february has become his own solace. it holds his happiest memories, most of them pertaining to you.

but even after many years down the line with handfuls of valentines days underneath katsuki’s belt— he still stands in the middle of the cotton candy themed aisle, a diamond ring burning a hole in his pocket as he freaks out. he’s on the verge of tearing his hair out, deliberating on which flowers you might like the most for today. this day. the one that could determine the course of your lives together.

bakugou needed this day to be absolutely flawless. he’d ordered cheeses straight from italy and fruits from some of the highest rated farmers’ markets in japan just to make sure his girl got the best of the best. he’d even called up your mother from your hometown, asking her for the recipe to that strawberry shortcake you could never stop raving about. the cake that reminded you of summers back home before the chaos of high school and your pro hero career alongside the booming dynamight. 

‘you’re good to her, katsuki,’ your mother had praised him over the telephone line just hours prior, the blonde could practically hear her faint smile. ‘please, keep her happy. look after my little girl.’

it’s only after he remembers those words, that katsuki decides on a beautiful arrangement of calla lilies, tulips and peonies— the symbols of romance, a declaration of his love to you. 

nothing in this life is promised, but the blonde swears he’ll do his best to look after you just like your mother had asked. 

for as long as you both shall live.

“suki,” you breathe, hand on your beating heart, looking up at your boyfriend fondly. “what’s all this?” 

the minute you’d stepped in from work, dropped your duffel bag and locked the door behind you— scarred, rough yet tender hands had guided you deeper into your shared apartment only to arrive at a candlelit dinner set up in the centre of your tiny living room. bakugou rubs soothing circles into your bare arms, traces his infield and the shape of a heart around them before he speaks— his chest warm against your back while he towers over you. 

“made dinner,” he rasps against the shell of your ear, kissing just under it with the ghost of his lips. 

you turn your head then— away from the flickering candle wax flames and up into the heat of his vermillion eyes. a blistering shade of red like the colour of romance. “i can see that, suki,” you tease with a coy smile, as if you’ve already found him out. “you usually do. but this is…it’s just… it’s pretty. is there some sort of special occasion?” you’re right, he may have gone overboard. 

your special selection of flowers sits at the centrepiece of the table draped in a linen tablecloth, pink wax candles and the finest silverware accent the set up and of course— your favourite slow song plays in the background, it’s mellow tune vibrating in the air around you as you sway with your boyfriend under the warm yellow light. 

the way you stare up at him knowingly has the big bad hero in a shambles. you’ve always been able to get him like this— flustered and shy, shades of rose blossoming on his cheeks like that of a spring bloom. katsuki grumbles with faux annoyance, pinching your side harmlessly. “i just wanted to look after you, spoil you a little since you always take good care of me.”

your all-knowing expression shifts to one of adoration, the creases in your features softening as they’re masked with love for your blonde boyfriend. “oh, suki!” comes your swooning sigh before you stand on your tiptoes and do your best to reach up so you can plant a smooch on his cheek. bakugou grants you some mercy, bending down so you can reach him— long, curly lashes fluttering against his sun-spotted cheeks at your silent ‘i love you.’ 

he still can’t get over that, how much you love him— how you make sure to let him know that you do, in every single way possible. big or small.

“you wanna eat with me or not, princess?” he asks shyly, bristling with happiness when you kiss him again to show your agreement. 

the explosive pro hero is quick to take the rest of your things and have you seated, falling to his knees to undo your work shoes as he places loving kisses from your ankle up to your hand— more specifically, your ring finger. bakugou knows that you’re staring at him while he dishes up your three course meals. you’ve told him before, you loved to watch him cook— it’s the way his arms move and his lips twist into a concentrated pout and his gaze stays honed in on every movement of his knife against the chopping board. 

you’ve told him you admire him. you’ve praised him for every dinner he’s ever put in front of you— tonight is no different. over the orange-yellow hue of the candles, content lights up your pretty face with each mouthful you take of each course. your face twitches with excitement, doing a little jiggle of happiness when bakugou serves you up another plate— playing footsies with your boyfriend under the table all at the same time. when he sets the strawberry shortcake in front of you, you practically shiver with delight and latch onto katsuki’s hand to give it a squeeze. another silent i love you. even as you babble on about your day, your load of interns straight from U.A and how you’d had to clean up their messes. 

and even though you vent between bites of food, bakugou having to wipe the corner of your mouth with a gentle swipe of his thumb— there’s nothing but a motherly smile on your lips and a caring tone laced into your voice while you talk about them. you love your job and your students; you take care of everyone around you and it only makes the blonde want to pamper you more— make sure you’re cared for too.

katsuki is confident in his career as dynamight, as a hero and as your boyfriend— but cowardness creeps into his veins and he forgets about the ring in his pocket all throughout dinner. it was meant to be a big surprise for the end of it all, but every time he looks at you, his heart drops to his stomach or beats so fast he thinks it might tear a hole through his chest. you end up washing the dishes together, fingertips brushing beneath the cherry-blossom scented and soap sudded water in the sink. a tingle runs down bakugou’s spine whenever your hands touch in the slightest, your delicate fingers passing him wet dishes while he dries them for you. 

he can only hope for more sweet scenes of domesticity with you, he dreams of them throughout his day and when he lies next to you at night. katsuki bakugou is so in love with you it feels like he’s suffocating, like he’s desperate for air because all he wants to breathe in is you. all he wants to taste is you. all he needs is you. 

you’re still chattering up a storm, washing the last of the cutlery when the blonde hero drops to his knees a second time, fumbling around in his pocket for the ring.

“marry me.” bakugou whispers, so quiet that you almost miss it underneath the volume of water sloshing about in the sink and your own ramblings. 

“so anyways i was thinking about getting either you or izuku to help train up my interns some— wait what?”

swallowing thickly to level his strained and shaking voice, bakugou tries again. “marry me,” he repeats simply, forgetting his big speech and all of his words about forever, always and perfection. instead he holds out the engagement ring for you to see, smiling slightly as its glint matches the shimmer of fresh and surprised tears in your eyes. “i love you.” 

you nearly drop the soapy glassware you’d been rinsing off, letting katsuki pry it away from your unstable grip before you cup your own face. “b-bakugou! k-katsuki! i mean suki,” comes your reply, each name clinging to the ridges of your throat as your emotions choke you up. “are you serious? w-what are you doing on the floor? get up! k-katsuki bakugou, you better not be playing with me! stand up!”

but bakugou does not budge, setting the wine glass on the floor beside him carefully before he takes your hand with the same amount of care and slides the diamond ring onto the correct finger. “marry me. aren’t ya hearin’ me right? i love you, there’s no one else who’s loved me like you— maybe that’s a selfish reason t’want to marry ya…” his lips, though slightly chapped, brush over your knuckles with each word as if to seal them as an eternal promise into your skin. “but i’m in love with you. always have been. always will be…a-and i wanna spend the rest of my life by your side. so marry me. i love you.”

there’s a moment, a quiet one, where it feels like you’re the only two people in existence before you launch yourself at your boyfriend— swatting at him until he falls back onto his butt and you're able to crawl between his legs. you grab at his cheeks, the metal band of your ring cool against his handsome face as you tug katsuki into a slow and passionate kiss, pouring every word you can’t think to say into it. 

when you pull apart there’s soap suds lingering on his golden skin and a look of adoration etched across the slope of bakugou’s features. you take a moment to admire him, tears free flowing, blood rushing through your ears carrying happy hormones and whisper back— 

“i’ll marry you, stupid. i love you, too.” 

[farfromstrange]

Daddy Issues | Matt Murdock x Reader

Masterlist

Inspired by this song.

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Reader

Summary: There are some scars from our childhoods that just won't heal, like daddy issues will somehow always affect our relationships, especially with men. It's the trauma that makes us afraid. Matt Murdock is a considerate boyfriend and he hardly ever raises his voice, so when he lets his anger out on you, he triggers something in you that you have never told him about.

Warnings: Angst, mentions of child abuse, daddy issues (not the sexy kind), childhood trauma, yelling, crying, small injury (reader cuts her finger), not proofread

A/n: This is entirely self-indulgent. I won't tell you why exactly, but let's just say today was not a good day and I needed to write this to feel better. It helped, for the most part. If you have/had a father who yells a lot and likes to blame you for everything, this is for you. But also basically everyone who's afraid of men yelling at you because you've been traumatized before. This has not been proofread or beta-d. It’s just a silly little comfort fic.

Tags: (people who answered the original idea and I think would enjoy this or asked to be tagged)

@igotanidea @lina-mar @redzie02 @hellskitchens-whore

[not my gif, credits to the owner mentioned under the gif]

In the heat of the moment, some people raise their voices. May it be a fight or a moment of excitement. When we get angry, we often resort to a louder volume and sometimes even verbal abuse. We say things we don’t mean. We wouldn’t be human if that didn’t happen sometimes, although most fights can be resolved by talking civilly. There is no point in screaming when talking like adults is a viable option that won’t hurt anyone. But it hardly ever happens, not when both parties are already worked up to the point of no return.

For you, there has not been a fight or discussion in your life that hasn’t resulted in a screaming match. Your parents often yelled at each other. You grew up like this, the voices of your fighting parents constantly in the back of your head until the day they divorced. And even after that, you figure you started hallucinating their fights whenever the world went quiet around you so you would have some noise in the back of your head.

Your father was the one who screamed the most. He yelled and scolded you whenever you didn’t act according to his standards or made even the smallest of mistakes, didn’t do something or just used the wrong tone with him, something that often didn’t sit right with him.

He always resorted to screaming. The context never really mattered, he just got louder, harsher and he used words that would confuse every kid and make their tiny brains overflow with the guilt they caused. And when you cried, he only waved it off because “there is no reason to cry, I’m just stating the facts”.

It traumatized you in a way many children who grew up in such families understand, and he made you believe that every man in your life has a reason to yell at you, to use you, to abuse you and constantly ask you for things even though you can’t possibly match up to all of their expectations.

You always expect to be yelled at by the men in your life. Even the smallest hint of the disappointment in someone’s voice makes you anxious and more often than not, you start to cry. It’s your defense mechanism. You’re fragile and you get scared easily. A switch gets flicked and you’re suddenly standing in the same house you grew up in, letting your father rain hell down on you because you were too scared to fight back.

The constant screaming made you scared of men, and it made you more careful with what you say or do around others. You tread carefully. You try to please and not to screw up too much, too scared of the consequences and possible negative reactions. In school, you used to do the same, always wanting to please the teachers and when they raised their voices, you often excused yourself and were left shaking and crying in the bathroom. 

Matt Murdock has always been a man with a heavy internal conflict, and that conflict resulted in anger issues and his ever-present catholic guilt. When you met him, he came across as attractive yet dominant, and that scared you a little until you talked for the first time in the middle of a cozy coffee shop and he showed how soft of a man he actually is. He keeps himself locked away and that might make him seem unapproachable, but he isn’t. He’s the kindest man you have ever met, and his heart is set right. Out of all the lovers you’ve had, he is truly the best and most considerate when it comes to your relationship.

He treats you like you’re the universe to him and when you fight, it’s more often bickering than it is an exchange of vulgarities and screams. He takes his anger out on punching bags, not you, and when he hurts someone, it’s often criminals who deserve his wrath. His life is complicated, but it’s easier with you in it. He feels alive, he’s told you, and he wouldn’t trade that for the world, so he always makes sure you’re taken care of and happy before he looks after himself.

There is, of course, the issue with his enhanced senses. He’s blind but his senses are enhanced to an extent that most blind people don’t have. You found out about that early on in your relationship, but there’s never been a doubt in your mind about the love you feel for him, so it was no hard choice to stay.

Though dating the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen comes with its collection of issues. More often than not you have to stitch him up or search him in dark alleys and trash cans because he keeps getting in trouble, and the worry often eats you alive. Still, you comfort him when he’s had a bad day, always, and you make him the spotlight of your life every time. In your mind, taking care of him comes first.

But Matt always gives back. It’s his Catholicism, you’re sure of that. He can’t take help. He has to be the one doing the work and moving mountains. He is God’s disciple and he feels responsible for his city and the people living in it. His blindness feels like a gift given to him by God to conquer all possible battles, and while you don’t really believe in God, you have accepted that part of him with open arms and more often than not join him in his faith because life with him is surely not the easiest.

When Matt Murdock feels overwhelmed, he tries not to show it. He’d rather lock himself away than burden you. He’d rather struggle on his own than put the people he loves in danger or hurt them with his personal struggles and the pain that consumes him.

Matt is patient and he doesn’t care if you screw up, even though you apologize profusely most of the time. He’s patient because we’re all human. We all screw up. That is the principle that he lives by and he makes you feel like you can be more of yourself around him. So after a year, there are no more reservations and you feel a lot more comfortable in your skin.

Until this day, he had never let his anger out on you, and he had never opened his mouth to yell at you in any way. Until that day.

He’s different when he comes home. He finds himself at his wit's end, and he has been ever since that godforsaken murder trial started. When he comes home, you don’t think much of his distance toward you, the denial of a proper kiss, and his grunts as he lowers himself on the couch instead of asking you about your day. You don’t think much until it all goes wrong, and you’re not even sure at what point it does or what you did to deserve this, but there has to be a reason because the man you’re seeing right now is not the Matt you usually get to see.

We all have bad days sometimes, others more often, but this seems deeper than just a bad day at the courthouse. This is not the face of an exhausted man after a long work day that just needs some kisses and maybe a blowjob, or to have sex with his girlfriend in all his dominant glory with aftercare to put the cherry on top. This is not Matt Murdock, this is the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen that comes through the front door, tosses his cane into a corner, and then just falls on the couch like a wet sack of potatoes, his fists clenched as if he is ready to explode any second.

You’ve been taught to tread carefully, so you do. You approach him only slowly because you are worried, you always are. Perhaps it’s the line of questioning that has him exploding in no time.

“You okay?” you ask.

He props his feet up on the living room table and huffs. “Fine,” he says.

“You don’t look fine. Did something happen?”

You’ve brought him a glass of water, which he takes with a curt nod. Something is bothering him, but he won’t talk to you.

“Bad day at work?”

“It doesn’t matter now. I’m fine. I just want to forget that today ever happened.”

“You want some coffee?” you decide to ask instead.

“No,” he says.

His leg starts to bounce. It only does when he is agitated or overstimulated and is trying to deal with the world around him. 

“Do you want me to run you a bath?”

He sighs. “No.”

“We still have leftovers, maybe I could warm them up.”

His tone is harsher this time, “No!”

You blink, a little taken aback by the force in his voice and involuntarily, you start to shake.

“I just want to be alone,” he adds, softer this time. “Can you… you know what, I’m just gonna get changed.”

And like that, he is gone. He disappears into the bedroom and you’re left flabbergasted. You want to ask what’s wrong, but you’re scared. You’ve never been scared of him before. It’s not him, it’s his reaction, and so you retreat into the kitchen. 

Eventually, he comes out again, though he is still missing a shirt. “Have you seen my Columbia sweater?” he asks, the lights of the billboard reflecting off his marble skin. 

“It’s in the washer,” you tell him.

“Why?”

“Because it’s dirty. Matt, what is going on?” You place your mug down and look at him, eyes soft and full of concern.

He only rolls his. “I just want my sweater.” Grabbing the used shirt from the chair at the dinner table, he slips it on. It’s not the fabric he wanted and he tenses up, hating the new sensation already.

“Are you sure this is about your sweater? You’ve been on me ever since you got in.”

“Yes, because you keep asking useless questions.”

“Useless?” You scoff. “So my interest and worry for you are useless?” 

If there is one thing you have gotten good at it has to be defending yourself.

He brushes past you to get a beer from the fridge. “I told you, I’m fine.” He is good at brushing you off because he doesn’t like to admit when he feels weaker than usual.

“You don’t look fine.”

“Oh, my God, then stop fucking looking!”

“Okay, what the hell is your problem?”

He scoffs. “You don’t get it.”

“What don’t I get?”

“Everything.”

“Enlighten me then.”

“It’s not…” his chuckle is bitter. “Well, I guess it doesn’t matter. You’re gonna keep seeing problems where there are none, so talking to you makes no sense anyway.”

What did he just say? You are so confused and suddenly very angry that you forget you are holding a glass. You smash it down on the counter, and, as expected, it shatters into a million pieces. Most of them fall to the floor and right at his bare feet. His eyes darken.

Oh.

Now you are scared, and not in a way that resembles sexy foreplay. You are scared because he is turning into a stranger right before your eyes. Suddenly, all you can see is not your loving boyfriend Matt Murdock, you see the anger of both your father and your stepfather in his eyes and hear it in his voice and it instantly tells you, 'this is all your fault'.

“I’m sorry,” you mumble. “I didn’t see…”

“One night,” he says. He moves out of the kitchen, trying not to step into the glass.

You follow him with wide eyes. “What’s that?” 

“One night,” he repeats his earlier statement. “That’s all I wanted. One fucking night where people don’t prod or- or want things from me. And what do you do? You keep talking and talking, and you don’t even care that I simply don’t want to talk.”

“Matt, that is not fair. I just wanted to-“ the tears start to prick in your eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“Jesus Christ.” And that’s where your strength stops and you retreat into your shell – the next words out of his mouth come so loud, you could have sworn they echoed off the brick walls and shot straight into your eardrums. “For once in your life, stop fucking apologizing!” 

His hand lifts, mostly to underline his words, and with the bottle in his hand he is suddenly so close, your eyes squeeze shut at the gush of wind. You flinch, your entire body caving in on itself. It’s not even intentional, you can’t help it. You’ve been conditioned to expect the worst when someone raises their hand, and Matt has never done it before. 

He realizes what it looks like the second your heart jumps and your blood rushes loudly in his ear. He can smell your sweat, the tears, and the fear that surrounds you. It’s your pheromones that change and something lingers in the air that makes him stop and think, what did I just do? 

He has been so in his head and the city has been loud for hours, he lost most of his patience at the courthouse, and then you’re there all caring and lovely and he can’t help but tell himself he doesn’t deserve it. He doesn’t deserve you. He just wants quiet and to be alone while at the same time, all he wants is you, but it’s too much. It’s all too much.

And now, as you flinch away from him and his booming voice, he snaps back to reality and realizes he made a mistake. He’s never experienced you like this before, and it scares him. 

“Did you just…” he begins, his voice soft and barely above a whisper.

He hears you fall to your knees, the taste of salt thick in the air and your breath shakes with every intake. You bite your lip and you collect the shards, trying to clean up your mess as if he would hate you if you didn’t. You whisper a silent, “Sorry.” And then he hears it. You’re sobbing, you try not to but you are, and it is his fault.

“Did you think I was gonna hit you?” he asks, dreading the answer.

You sniffle, not answering.

You flinched, he heard it, and not because you were surprised. You are scared, he knows. 

He slowly approaches the kitchen. “Sweetheart, talk to me.”

“I just gotta clean this up,” you whimper and you brush the glass together with shaky hands. The tears are running down your cheeks in thick streams and your teeth have gnawed your bottom lip bloody, your throat dry with the denied sobs.

“I just gotta clean this up and then I can make you dinner or something. I don’t… I can fix this. I’ll fix this. I’m sorry.”

It’s your fault, you tell yourself. You pushed him. You deserve this. He worked hard the entire day and you annoyed him. He has every right to do this. In your head, at least. It makes all sense in your head while in reality, Matt has never been more shocked to read your body language than he is now.

He slowly kneels in front of you. “Answer me this,” he says, “did you flinch because you thought I was gonna hit you or because I yelled?”

You shrug, unable to look at him. One of the shards slides across your finger and you hiss, the smallest cut forming and causing blood to pool out of your skin. Still, you don’t stop. You need to clean this up before he gets even angrier at you. In your state, you don’t realize his voice has softened and he no longer stares at you with those blacked-out eyes. He looks sympathetic, almost, but most of all the guilt has spread throughout his features and his heart. He is aching to touch you, but you are scared and shaking and he doesn’t want to hurt you any further than he already has.

He had been so ignorant that he didn’t see the signs before.

“Why are you crying?” he asks again.

You wipe your cheeks. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to push you. It’s my fault,” you say. “I’ll clean this up, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have…”

“Hey.”

“No, I gotta-”

“Stop.” His hand is on your arm then. “You cut yourself.”

“I’m sorry,” it’s a mantra you’ve taught yourself to say in the hopes you could somehow fix this before it’s too late.

But it’s not too late. When you finally look up, he’s smiling softly, and his thumb is stroking over your skin in circles. 

“I’m sorry,” it’s his turn to say it. “I didn’t mean to yell at you. None of this is your fault. I was so caught up in my own shit, I… God, I would never hit you. I just- I didn’t think when I raised my hand. I didn’t think what it might look like to you. And I didn’t think when I yelled because I… in my head, I wasn’t thinking.”

Your facade cracks even more to the point you are seethrough and your defenses have fallen completely. You’re a snotty mess, shaking violently in his grasp. 

“I’m trying, I swear I’m trying to be better. Just don’t be angry with me,” your voice is bordering on helpless little sobs, your lips turned downward and God, you are shaking so badly, you haven’t done so since the last fight with your father when you were a teenager. 

Matt’s face softens even more, but there is a pain in there too. He takes a paper towel to wrap around your injured finger and he holds your hand, not sure if he is allowed to touch anywhere else, but he wants you to know he is here and he is going nowhere. He is neither mad nor is he going to break up with you. You try to tell yourself that, but it’s hard with the demon in your head whispering all those awful things into your ear, reminding you that everything bad that happens can only be your fault and that there is no use for you but to destroy and disappoint. But you don’t want to disappoint, you want him to be proud of you. You want him to hold you and tell you everything is alright. But you’re scared and you feel so stupidly guilty for something you can’t even put a finger on. Your bleeding finger.

“Angry with you?” he says. “No.” Matt chuckles, but it’s broken and almost whiny as he does so. “I’m not angry at you, bug. Of course not. I was just angry with the world. I was angry at everything else, but not you. I’m not angry at you. I couldn’t possibly be. I’m sorry, it wasn’t fair of me to take it out on you. I realize that now. And the glass…” he forces you away from the chaos gently, helping you stand up without hurting yourself further. “It’s just glass,” he tells you. “I’ll clean it up. There’s nothing bad about breaking something.”

“But the mess,” you say. 

“Fuck the mess. The whole apartment’s a mess.”

“I’m so sorry! I can clean it. I can clean up, I promise. I just… I’m so sorry, Matt.”

“Stop apologizing, baby, please. The mess doesn’t matter. The apartment doesn’t matter, and the glass does not fucking matter. None of this is your fault. You didn’t do anything but try to help. I had no right to yell at you. And my hand… I would never hit you. Never.” He squeezes your hand. “I love you.”

You hiccup, whimpering when he pulls you away from the glass on the floor and pulls you into his arms. His chin rests on the crown of your head and you mold into him, the tears taking on new speed and wetting through his shirt. He strokes your back, not sure what else to do, and his lips find your temple. “God, I’m so sorry,” he whispers. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve that, none of that.”

You cling tighter to him. 

He keeps asking himself the same question over and over again. “Who hurt you?” he asks. It’s a valid question. A fear like that doesn’t just stem from nothing. Something happened in the past to have traumatized you this badly. 

Your breathing eventually slows down, as do your tears, and you look up at him through swollen eyes. His white shirt is wet now, but he doesn’t care, he only hugs you back to his chest. “My father used to yell at me whenever I did something wrong,” you tell him, your voice muffled through his chest, but he understands every word. 

His grip tightens. “Did he hit you?”

“Sometimes, but… I remember that one time I forgot to clean up after myself and he just… he…” The lack of oxygen makes you shudder and you hiccup again, nails digging into his back. “I’m sorry, he just… yelled at me. Sometimes, he’d slap me, but only sometimes. He’d threaten most of the time, but he didn’t do it often. And I mean, I was a hard kid to raise, I-“

“No, don’t blame yourself,” he is quick to cut you off. “You were a kid.”

You shudder again. “Well, I… you know, he blamed me for the smallest of things, so I got used to apologizing and trying to please everyone, but I can’t always do that. I try to fix things, but it doesn’t always work. He used to yell at me every damn time and I just… I get scared. I don’t like it when people raise their voices. It makes me feel so guilty and now I even broke a glass. That’s my fault. I shouldn’t have… you had a bad day, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to cry like this. I swear I’m not a baby.”

You move away to rub your eyes. He grabs your face, smoothing the pads of his thumbs over your wet cheeks. The heat has pooled under the skin in an upset blush. 

“Don’t apologize,” he says. “It’s okay to cry. If I’d known, baby, I…” Matt can only shake his head in disbelief.

He loves you more than anything and to see you hurting because of something another man did to you, a man who is supposed to protect you, makes him feel all kinds of things, but none of them positive. 

But his anger doesn’t matter. This is about you. He has to take care of you now, not himself, and definitely not your father. It’s just you on his mind.

You choke on nothing. “He told me I have no reason to cry because he’s just stating facts.”

Matt clicks his tongue. “No, don’t ever think that again. You have every right to cry when you feel the need to.”

“It makes me weak,” you say.

“Your father’s wrong. You’re the strongest person I know,” he says. “And the fact that he yelled at you and blamed you for things that were out of your control… no one has the right to treat you like that, not even your parents, and he should have never even thought about raising his hand against you. That’s abuse. I can’t believe- fuck! Do you understand that it wasn’t your fault? That he had no right to do that?”

“Yes, but… it happened. Maybe I deserved some of those slaps. I mean you… I- I don’t know. It happened, we can’t change it. And who knows, maybe he was right.”

“Stop it! That’s not true and you know it.”

“I know, but-“

“No buts, sweetheart. I would never raise my hand against you, I promise. I’m not like your father. No one should be like him. You deserve so much better.”

“I know you wouldn’t,” you sniffle, “it was just instinct.”

“Shh,” Matt kisses you gently, “I know. It’s like me dodging punches in a fight. It’s a defense mechanism. Your father, I… you’ve never said anything. I would’ve never suspected this.”

“‘Cause I didn’t think it was important. This never happened before. You never yelled before.”

“Oh, sweetie, I’m sorry. You should have told me,” he says. “It’s important to me. The last thing I wanted was to hurt you. I want you to feel comfortable around me, not scared.”

You nod. “And I am, really, it’s just… I thought I did something wrong.”

His smile is soft when he leans in to kiss you again, tasting the tears on your lips. “You didn’t. I let my anger out on you for no reason. You didn’t deserve that. It won’t happen again, I promise,” and he dives right back in. 

You wrap your arms around his neck, relaxing in his arms as his lips move against yours with sweet precision, making you feel lightheaded. He scared you, that much is true, but it was neither you nor his fault and you realize that now, safe in his arms as he proves his devotion to you with a single breath into your mouth. With his gentle touch around your waist he promises never to hurt you, never to let his anger out on you again, and he promises that he will drive himself to hell personally if he ever scares you like that again because he couldn’t forgive himself if anything happened to you because of him. He couldn’t live with himself if he broke your heart or triggered the trauma you brought into the relationship from your broken childhood, and he promises that he will never leave you, never put you second and always hold you when times get hard because people screw up, bad things happen, and you might be at fault sometimes, but so is he and there is no reason to be put down for being human. He wants to teach you that, he wants to help you heal yourself, and you have never felt more in love than at that moment, losing yourself in his lips, eyes and arms.

He breaks the kiss, moving on to your forehead. “If there is anything else I need to know,” he breathes hotly against your already heated skin, and the exhaustion slowly starts to seep into your bones as the shakes and tension subside from your bones, “please tell me before I make another mistake that might trigger you.”

You take in a deep breath, shaking your head. “There is not much else. My childhood wasn’t the best, but that’s okay,” you say. 

He brushes his knuckles over your cheekbone. “Bad enough. Promise you’ll tell me if something else might come up?” He resembles a puppy as he tries to meet your eyes, but he fails miserably.

So you promise him, “Okay.”

“Can you forgive me for yelling?”

Your tears have finally come to a halt. “Yes,” you say. 

“Thank you.”

Your eyes fall on the mess on the kitchen floor again and you go to grab the broom. Matt’s arm around your frame stop you and he gently pushes you out of the kitchen. “Let me clean it up,” he says. “Put a bandaid on your finger and then go lie down. I’ll deal with it.”

“No, I broke it. Please, Matt, let me do this.”

“Not everything is your fault, sweetheart. Besides, you already cut yourself once and with how you’re shaking, the next time you accidentally cut yourself I’m sure you’re gonna cause more damage.”

“But I-”

“Go to bed,” he insists, “I’ll be there in a second and then we’ll cuddle so you know I’m serious when I say that I love you more than life itself.”

The weight and guilt fall off your heart. “I love you,” you tell him. “More than life itself, too.”

It’s not a lie. If there is anything or anyone you love, it’s him, and you’ve never been this in love with anyone before. It’s sickening to the point it hurts, but the pain is sweet and it’s all worth it because with Matt, you can be yourself. 

The past matters just a little less with someone who loves you right by your side, and he would never give up on you like everyone else did before him. 

[tojisun]

feel like this is something biker!simon would send to his love saying "you" and nothing else https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMjtgEJdA/

…my love, the video is gone. oh im so so sorry for getting to this late. i forgot that some videos on tiktok get taken down and now im afraid that some of the other reqs have deleted videos 🥲

please, if ur comfy and if u still remember what u sent, may u pls send me an ask of what happened in the video and i can write a drabble for u?? im so fucking sorry again 😭

-

but no yea, simon does that <333

he finds videos on his fyp or reels or wherever and if they remind him of you, he won’t hesitate to let you know!

at first it started so cute and wholesome—videos of cats enjoying a beam of light, someone baking a cake and the video is a mixture of chaotic and adorable, someone talking about their favourite artist. simon sends them all to you with cute little message like: “you’d probably like this,” “i remember you said you wanted to try this,” “don’t you have the same book?”

and then it just devolved 😭

that one video of a dude who was boxing with air and literally lost (he strained his neck and had to wear a neck brace)? “you.”

video of girl math being used? “you.”

that video of someone screaming in their car before work, and then proceeding to calm themself up and continue putting on their make up? “you.”

a video of a backpack who was too terrified of the ride that they crossed even their legs around their (biker) partner’s? “you.”

^ this one was followed by another message that read: “why don’t you do that anymore?” because simon is clingy and he’s just being a drama queen about it!!

(yes they’re silly videos but you love seeing them, anyway. you love seeing how much simon thinks about you throughout his day, which is always. you love seeing how fast he replies as soon as you send yours because simon just wants to talk to you, about everything and nothing, and you indulge him because you’re just as clingy.)

-

this probably isnt what u wanted nor is it even similar to what u sent, but i do hope u liked this lil ramble </33 mwah sweet love

[ambrossart]

Post Prom - "Pillow Talk"

☆ REWRITTEN WITH ADDITIONAL CONTENT

summary: spending the night at eddie’s house sounded like a good idea… until you actually had to sleep.

pairing: eddie munson x dwm!reader word count: 4,968 warnings: new relationship, very slightly NSFW, mostly just a lot of teasing, some suggestive dialogue, reader has a slight hand fetish, eddie is happy to indulge her, they get a little carried away, but no sex, because they don't have condoms

series masterpost | series playlist | fanfiction masterlist

When Eddie came inside and returned to his bedroom, he was instantly struck speechless.

He had fantasized about this exact moment countless times, in dreams so vivid they made reality feel like an unending, unbearable nightmare, but that did little to prepare him for the rush of emotions he felt when he saw you standing across the room in his Megadeth shirt.

A very good choice, Eddie thought, gratified, but honestly, between Slayer and Megadeth, there was no wrong answer. You could have chosen either shirt, and it would have fit just as perfectly as the other… almost like they were meant for you, like when Eddie found those shirts hiding inside a cardboard box in Reefer Rick’s garage last summer, when he tried to haggle for a good price and Rick said he could just take ‘em, when Eddie drove home, grinning, feeling like he’d just won the lottery, part of him always knew you’d be wearing one of those shirts someday. 

And this sweet, serendipitous feeling caught Eddie a little off guard… but not as much as he thought it would. Frankly, he expected to be dumbstruck by the sight of you. He expected to step back, shake his head, and think, Holy shit, this is really happening, isn’t it? But when he walked through that door, all he felt was this wonderful sense of wholeness.

After years and years of waiting, you two were finally exactly where you were supposed to be.

Eddie leaned against the doorframe and observed you for a minute, unwilling to disturb you, afraid that if he spoke or moved in the slightest, this perfect moment would ripple away like a mirage. You were standing with your back to him, preoccupied with all the clutter on his desk. You weren’t snooping, though; no, you were just learning more about him, browsing through all of his junk like they were tiny sculptures in a fine art exhibit, handling each object so carefully, like you were scared you might break it. 

Watching you do this, Eddie couldn’t help but smile.

That’s when you glanced over your shoulder and caught him staring at you with gentle, adoring eyes. Your face flushed and your heart started beating a little faster. It was embarrassing to be standing in front of Eddie while wearing his clothes. 

Even more embarrassing was how long it took you to put them on.

You spent the first three minutes glaring at them from across the room, thinking (and you hated yourself for thinking this), 

What if they don’t fit? 

It was such a silly thought. You even laughed when it popped into your head. You weren’t that ugly, miserable twelve-year-old girl anymore, yet here you were, slipping back into those same bad habits: obsessing over whether or not certain clothes would fit you, changing with your back to the mirror because you were too disgusted to look at yourself.

It took you two whole minutes to convince yourself to turn around, and when you finally did, you were overwhelmed by this sudden surge of… joy? Relief? Those didn’t seem like strong enough words to describe it, but whatever that emotion was, it made you tear up as soon as you saw your reflection in the mirror. Then you spent another five minutes just looking at yourself with the goofiest, giddiest smile, mesmerized by how perfectly Eddie’s clothes fit you, how naturally they fit you. You felt stupid for even doubting it.

Of course, to be standing in front of Eddie now, to have him staring at you so deeply… well, that made you feel self-conscious in a completely different way. 

You had to break his gaze and turn away for a second to regain your composure. As you did, you noticed a plastic skull sitting on top of Eddie’s desk, half covered by an old denim jacket, and your eyes widened with recognition. You picked it up and spun around to face him.

“You know, sir,” you said while smugly showing off your latest find, “there’s a production of Hamlet that’s been missing this for about three months now.”

“Yeah…” Eddie replied guiltily, holding in a laugh. “But it’s not technically stealing. Mr. Carlson and I have an agreement, you see. He agrees to let me raid his prop room for my campaigns, and I agree to not crash his dress rehearsals.” He punctuated this with a self-amused grin, like he was so terribly clever.

Rolling your eyes, you said, “Just admit you wanna be in theater, already.”

He returned your teasing smile with one of his own. “Pretty sure I just like bothering the girl in theater.”

Your face fell and warm blood flooded your cheeks. As the color deepened, you shyly tucked your chin into your chest and looked away. To Eddie, this was a sweet and irresistibly feminine gesture, its charm highlighted by your stubborn denial of its existence. You raised your chin proudly, as if nothing had happened, and placed the skull back on the desk.

While your back was to him, Eddie said, “Hey, how come you never try out for anything?”

The question made you pause, but only for a second. “Because I prefer to stay in the background and mock everyone.”

“Oh…” he said, “so it has nothing to do with your fear of public speaking?”

“Nope,” you said, and turned around. Eddie was looking at you with a skeptical frown, his dark eyes probing but patient. Frustratingly patient. He already knew the truth, but he wasn’t going to force you to admit it when you clearly weren’t ready. “I suppose I should be more like you, huh? Turn a simple English reading into a dramatic stage performance?”

“Well, no one else was committed. I had to do something.”

“Yeah, but did you really have to walk on top of the desks?”

“Uhh, yes,” Eddie said, and you both laughed. “Besides, whose desk did I always end up on?”

The answer caught you both by surprise:

“Mine,” you whispered, and then you both went quiet for a minute, reflecting on all those little moments that now seemed much more meaningful than they initially appeared.

“You know what’s weird?” Eddie said. “I don’t even think I knew what I was doing at the time. In fact, I know I didn’t. Believe me, it’s not like I was trying to seek you out or anything. I wanted nothing to do with you, but my body just sorta moved on its own… like muscle memory or something. I’d look down and there you were, staring back at me.” He flashed a bittersweet smile that made your heart ache. “Then, of course, you’d shove me really hard and I’d fall off the desk and almost break my neck.”

You smirked. “Well, your foot was on my notebook.”

“Mmm, I think you just wanted to touch me.”

“No, I think I wanted you off my desk,” you said, but there was no denying a small part of you had enjoyed it. Back then, you relished even the briefest touch. They were so rare, practically nonexistent. “I wasn’t really aware of it either, to be honest. I mean, I think there might’ve been a couple times where I thought maybe… but, I dunno, I guess I just didn’t wanna get my hopes up.”

Eddie frowned. “Yeah, well… I guess we were both pretty oblivious.”

“You especially,” you said, simpering at him, “you know, considering I made it annoyingly obvious that I was obsessed with you back in middle school. Seriously, how did you not figure it out? Everyone knew except you… well, you and Gareth, but that kid lives on another planet. He never knows what’s going on.”

Eddie chuckled bashfully. “Y’know, when I think back on it now, it was really obvious, but I swear I had no idea at the time. I definitely should’ve known, though. I mean, you sat outside the school every day, waiting for a chance to talk to me.”

“And some days I had to wait a really long time. In the rain and the snow. I was freezing my ass off.”

That brought a small smile to Eddie’s face. “Well, you don’t have to wait anymore.”

“Yeah,” you replied softly, and let that sink in for a moment.

You didn’t have to wait anymore. After six long years, your suffering was finally over. Thank goodness.

“Are you ready for bed now?” Eddie asked.

“Yes,” you answered, shivering a little.

While he closed the door and walked to the other side of the room, you climbed onto the bed and started crawling toward the middle. As soon as your palms touched down and your right knee sank into the mattress, you froze, looked up at the pillows, and thought with a sudden flush of excitement, Oh my god, we’re gonna be sharing the same bed. How the hell am I supposed to sleep tonight?

Nervously, you dragged your limbs a little further, rolled over to a sitting position, and scooted your hips back a bit more. When you looked up, Eddie was rubbing his face and staring at the bed with a gravely conflicted expression.

“What?” you said.

“Nothing,” he answered. “I’m just not sure how to go about this.”

“What do you mean?” you said. “Just do what you always do.”

“… yeah, I don’t think I should…”

“Why?” you asked, grimacing. “Do you sleep nude or something?”

“No, it’s just…” He scratched under his chin pensively. “I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable.”

Eddie gave you a pleading look, like you were supposed to read his mind and instantly know what great conundrum was plaguing him. Unfortunately, you weren’t that far into your relationship yet, so you were lost in the dark.

“I’ll be fine,” you insisted. “Just sleep how you normally do.”

“Okay…” Eddie said with a cautionary tone. Then he crossed his arms in front of him and grabbed the bottom of his shirt with both hands.

Your entire upper body flinched with surprise. Eddie was taking off his shirt right in front of you. Were you supposed to act all coy and innocent? Avert your eyes? Blush and cover your face? Look up awkwardly at the ceiling and whistle “Yankee Doodle” until the coast was clear? You’d never seen Eddie shirtless before. Naturally, you were a little curious. But was that okay? Was it ladylike to look? To actually want to look? Mrs. Cunningham would have said, Absolutely not, young lady. Now you go sit in the corner and pray those sinful thoughts away, but screw that! You weren’t a kid. This wasn’t sex ed (which Mrs. Cunningham did not let her daughter attend because it went against her religious values, and then she banished you from the house for like three days because she thought you were “unclean” and you would tell Chrissy everything… even though you already had, literally as soon as you got out of class). Why should you feel embarrassed? If you wanted to watch Eddie take off his shirt, you were going to without feeling any shame.

So you did watch, respectfully.

You watched him bunch up the fabric until his entire abdomen was exposed. Admittedly, you blushed a tiny bit when you noticed the faint line of hair that trailed down his belly button and disappeared under the waistband of his jeans. You weren’t searching for it; it was just there. But you kept your cool. You stayed calm. Even while your stomach fluttered and flopped, even while Eddie’s muscles flexed gorgeously as he rolled the shirt over his shoulders and pulled it over his neck, his head, while he dragged it off his arms and let it fall to the floor, you stayed perfectly calm. Yeah, up until that point, you had been doing very well.

But then, god dammit, you saw the tattoos on his chest and devolved into a horny monster of a girl.

God, I wish we had condoms right now.

“Yeah, me too,” Eddie said, cracking a smirk.

That’s when it hit you:

“Oh my god!” You gasped and clapped your hands over your mouth. “Did I just say that out loud?”

“Yeah, you did,” Eddie replied, unblushing, now standing before you with a full-on grin. “And thank you, by the way. Glad to know I’m not the only one struggling here.”

Yeah, you were struggling, all right. Struggling to hide your embarrassment. Succumbing to it, you drew in both your legs, grabbed a fistful of Eddie’s blanket, and buried your blushing face against it.

“I’m so sorry,” you mumbled, “I didn’t mean to say that.”

“What are you apologizing for?” Eddie asked, bemused. “If I saw you topless, I’m pretty sure my jaw would be on the floor right now.”

You seriously doubted that. “Eh, they’re not that impressive,” you said, and Eddie’s brow wrinkled with utter bewilderment.

“Uhh, I humbly disagree… and to avoid sounding like a total creep, I’m gonna leave it at that.”

That made your face flare up again. Emboldened by his words, you poked your head out and said with a kittenish look, “So you’ve been checking me out, huh?”

“Oh, constantly,” Eddie replied with a playful, unabashed smile, setting your warm cheeks ablaze. 

This time, however, you didn’t hide your face or look away. You wanted to, but Eddie’s deep brown eyes held you captive. Like two beautiful black holes, they sucked you right in and you got lost in them, hypnotized, while he slowly undid his belt, unzipped his jeans, pushed them down, and kicked them away. A flicker of desire twitched through him. Your eyes fell and your breath hitched in your throat.

With a long, tortured sigh, Eddie said, “We really didn’t think this through, did we?”

“Nope,” you said, shaking your head, and Eddie’s face scrunched up with indecision.

“Do you want me to just take you home?” he asked. “I don’t want you to feel weird and not be able to sleep.”

“I’ll be able to sleep,” you said. “Yeah, I’m one of those people who can sleep anywhere, so you don’t have to worry about me.”

That was actually a lie, but…

“Look, I really don’t want you to take me home,” you said, wincing as you heard the fragility in your voice. God, you felt so pathetic. You hugged your knees to your chest and laid your forehead on top of them. “I swear I’m not gonna be one of those annoying, clingy girlfriends or anything. It’s just… I’ve had to go years without you, Eddie, and right now the thought of leaving you just cripples me. I don’t… yeah, I don’t really how to explain it.”

Reluctantly, you lifted your head and saw Eddie staring at you with a soft, empathetic smile

“You don’t have to explain,” he said. “I get it.”

He flipped the wall switch and the bedroom fell into darkness, the covered windows glowing with a soft, silver light. Your heart was pounding with anticipation as you watched Eddie cross the room and climb into bed. He came toward you slowly, wrapped his hands around your ankles, and tugged on them gently, dragging your feet across the mattress, extending your bent legs one by one.

“You can be clingy if you want,” he said. “I don’t mind.”

Eddie moved closer, planted his palms on either side of your hips, and hovered over you. Speechless, you raised your eyes to meet his. As soon as you did, he leaned down, tilted his head, and captured your lips in a slow, sensual kiss that made your thoughts scatter like leaves in the wind. You closed your eyes and surrendered to him. Pleasure prickled up your spine. Goosebumps broke feverishly across your skin. Timidly, you lifted your hand to his bare chest and began tracing your fingers over his tattoos. Eddie shuddered at your touch, pulled away, and let out a low groan.

“What’s wrong?” you asked breathlessly. “Are my hands cold?”

“No,” Eddie answered, “I just, uhh…” He laughed under his breath. “I dunno how I’m gonna be able to sleep tonight.”

“Me either,” you confessed quietly. “This was a really bad idea.”

“Oh, it was a terrible idea.” He placed another kiss on your lips and drew back with a smile. “Now move over, crazy, you’re in my spot.”

You scooted over and Eddie settled into the space beside you, sitting upright in bed with the blanket draped loosely around his naked waist. He looked so beautiful like that, ethereal almost, his silhouette softly illuminated by moonlight. Meanwhile, you sat with the blanket pulled all the way up to your chin. Underneath it, your body felt hot and tense and your heart was hammering wantonly in your chest. It was almost four o’clock in the morning, yet you were wide awake. How could you be expected to sleep with Eddie lying half-naked next to you?

Yeah, this is gonna be a huge problem, you thought, nervous and a little excited.  

(Because wasn’t this a wonderful problem to have?) 

You closed your eyes, took a deep breath, and released it in a noiseless sigh. Then, just to be safe, you moved a bit closer to the edge of the mattress. 

That didn’t help much, either.

Funny, you thought anxiously, somehow the bed seemed much smaller now than it did before. Not uncomfortably smaller, just noticeably smaller. Eddie was inches away from you, close enough to feel his heat mingling with yours, close enough to feel the vibrations of every little move he made, close enough to drive you absolutely fucking crazy. His last kiss still lingered on your lips, sweet and intoxicating. You wanted to be closer to him. You wanted to feel his lips on yours again. Feel his soft, smooth skin underneath your fingertips. Feel his strong hands on your hips, gripping you, guiding you. Feel deep brown eyes piercing into yours while you…

Oh boy, you thought, shuddering, I’m having a lot of thoughts tonight, each more dangerous than the last.

Eddie, unaware of your inner turmoil, switched on the lamp and started taking off his rings one by one: pinching the band between his fingers, gliding it over each of his knuckles, first one, then the other, pulling it off his fingertip and dropping it onto the nightstand beside him. One. Two. Three. Each ring clattered as it landed on the table. The soft rattling sound made you groan. 

Dammit, Eddie…

Did he have to take them off so slowly? So teasingly? If you didn’t know better, you would have thought he was doing this on purpose. Couldn’t he sense the torment he was causing? You were teetering on the edge right now, both metaphorically and literally. You couldn’t move any further away from him. It was physically impossible… unless, of course, you wanted to end up on the floor. If he didn’t yank off that last ring quickly, you were gonna—

“What?” Eddie said, staring at you. “You okay?”

His deep voice jolted you from your libidinous thoughts. You looked up at him, blinking, your cheeks tinged with embarrassment. “Huh…? Yeah, I’m okay.” 

“You sure?” Eddie asked. He sounded concerned but also, vaguely, amused. The final ring—a fanged skull—still clung loosely to his left ring finger. Eddie had started to remove it, but stopped when he caught you looking at him. Now you could practically hear it taunting you as Eddie said, “You seem a little… agitated right now.” 

Agitated, huh? 

Sure, Eddie, let’s go with agitated. 

“I’m just tired,” you said. Then, in an obvious and pathetic act of bad theater, you covered your mouth with your hand and pretended to yawn.

Eddie’s face wrinkled with teasing suspicion. “Well, you should go to sleep,” he said, and started gently tugging on his ring again. This time you were certain he was doing it on purpose. Helplessly, you followed it anyway. Your mouth hung open as you watched the fanged skull move slowly up his finger, past his first knuckle, past his second knuckle… then slide all the way back down. A frustrated huff blew through your lips. As soon as it did, Eddie’s expression brightened with surprised fascination.  

“Wait,” he said, smirking, “do you have a hand fetish or something?”

His accusation startled you. “What?” you said. “I don’t have a hand fetish.” That sounded creepy and perverted, albeit true. “It’s just your hands… and those rings.” Those damn rings. “You’ve been playing with them all night, Eddie. Do you even realize you’ve been doing that?”

“Yeah,” he answered bashfully, “it’s kind of a nervous habit of mine.” 

“It’s fucking torture is what it is.” 

Your eyes widened. Eddie’s widened, too. Then they drifted back to the skull ring on his hand and settled there for a moment, as if enchanted by some marvelous discovery. Eddie had just found himself some buried treasure and you led him straight to it. You had drawn up a map, marked the X, handed it over, and said, Here ya go, Eddie. Here’s some lovely ammunition to use against me for the rest of our relationship. Did you really expect him not to pull the trigger? 

“Interesting…” Eddie said to himself, his voice dropping into that pondering yet provocative tone that meant nothing but trouble for you.      

“Oh, don’t do that…” 

“What?”

“Don’t say ‘interesting.’ It’s not interesting, it’s just…”

Embarrassing, extremely embarrassing.

Another loud huff escaped you. You turned away from Eddie, lay down, and threw the blanket over your shoulders. 

“It is interesting, though,” Eddie went on, chuckling to himself. “In fact, it’s very interesting.” 

There was a soft click behind you and suddenly the room collapsed into darkness again. Eddie had turned off the lamp and was now coming over to you. You knew because you could feel the bed shifting underneath his weight, closer, closer, and the closer he got, the deeper the mattress sank behind you. Eddie’s gravity was pulling you backward, drawing you into him. You gasped as you felt your back press up against his bare chest, and gasped again when you felt his right arm slip under the covers and settle snuggly around your waist. Instantly, your face flushed and your heart skipped a beat, but you didn’t try to pull away from him… as if you even could. You lay quiet, captive, waiting.       

Eddie lay behind you with his elbow resting on your pillow, leaning against it as he said, “I’m learning a lot of new things about you tonight. I’m learning some things about myself, too.” 

A curious smile dragged up the side of your face. “Really? Like what?”

“Like… for instance…” He leaned down and whispered throatily against your ear, “I really like the sound of you begging.” 

All the blood rushed to your face. You buried it into the pillow and said, “Okay, now you’re just being mean…”    

Eddie laughed at that. The sound rumbled deep in his chest and sent butterflies fluttering through your stomach. 

“I’m not, I’m not,” he said. “Listen, just hear me out, okay? I have a point, I promise. Now, this is kinda embarrassing to admit, but… honestly, I always kinda thought you would dominate me.” 

“What?” you blurted out, beside yourself with shock. “You thought I would dominate you?”

“Well, kinda, yeah.” Eddie smiled in abashment. “Shit, how could I not? I mean… I mean… Look, it’s like this, okay: for as long as I’ve known you, you’ve always had this really strong, intimidating presence. Naturally, I assumed that would carry over into the bedroom.” 

His words made you blush furiously, but they also filled you with a strange sense of confidence. Encouraged by them, you sat up on your elbow, looked over your shoulder, and raised your eyebrows playfully. “So, what, Munson? You want me to climb on top of you, pin you down, and have my way with you?”  

Eddie’s brown eyes bulged in the darkness, bigger than you had ever seen. “Do you wanna do that?” 

You stared at him for a second, speechless. “Honestly…? I don’t know.” 

It was hard to imagine yourself doing something like that. 

And yet… 

Your confidence fizzled again. Frowning, you sank down and laid your head back on the pillow.

Eddie smiled down at you, impressed by your unexpected boldness, short-lived as it was. “Well, that’s what I thought you’d be like, anyway.” He nuzzled his face into the side of your neck, his warm breath tickling you as he spoke. “But… not gonna lie… seeing you reduced to a quivering, whimpering mess, well… yeah, I kinda like that, too. I like it a lot, actually.”

He swept your hair out of the way and began planting light kisses along your skin. The feeling of his lips made you sigh. 

“We should stop talking about this.” 

“You’re right, we should,” Eddie said, but his kisses only got hotter and hungrier. Meanwhile, his right hand had slid down from your waist and started caressing your inner thigh, nails dragging, fingers curling, uncurling, occasionally stopping to tease the bottom hem of his boxers. “… except now you’ve got me a little curious.” 

“Oh yeah?” Your voice was high-pitched and breathy, delirious with pleasure. “About what?”

“About this little hand fetish of yours…” But honestly, you were hardly listening to him. You were more focused on the warmth of his hand and the deliciously rough texture of his skin. You closed your eyes and breathed deeply. As you did, you felt Eddie’s lips graze the outer edge of your ear. His voice sent a delightful tingle down your spine. “… so, tell me, in all these little fantasies of yours… what exactly am I doing with my hands?” 

His question coaxed a moan out of you. You placed your hand on top of his, intending to push it away, but as soon as you felt his hard knuckles underneath your fingers, you became possessed by savage, carnal desire. Your hand started moving on its own, rubbing across Eddie’s skin, scratching it lightly, sliding down and trapping itself in the soft webbing of his fingers. Pleasure rippled through you. All at once, images exploded through your mind like flashes of a camera. Turning around and smashing your lips against Eddie’s. Grabbing his face. Pulling his hair. Pushing him down on the bed and straddling his hips. Dragging your nails down his bare chest. 

That knocked some sense back into you. “Eddie,” you said weakly, “may I remind you of the situation we’re in?”

Eddie chuckled against you, unbothered. “Yeah, see, I’ve thought about that and…” He pressed a kiss to your ear, drew back, and whispered, “We don’t need condoms for this.”  

You bit down hard on your lip, holding in a moan as temptation tore through you. “Yeah, but do you really trust yourself to stop?”

Silence for a minute. 

Eddie knocked his head against yours and grunted in defeat. “No,” he said. “No, I don’t.”

You frowned, equally disappointed. “Yeah, I don’t either, so…” 

His hand went limp, fell, and died on your thigh. 

“Aw shit,” Eddie hissed through his teeth. Guilt-stricken, he pulled away from you, rolled onto his back, and ran his hands over his face. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I swear, I normally have way more self-control than this, it’s just… shit, it’s just you, y’know? You’re here, you’re in my bed, and you look really good in my Megadeth shirt. Plus I’ve got like, y’know, four years of pent-up sexual frustration that’s just dying to burst outta me, so…”  

You turned over, sat up on your elbow, and smiled at him. “Yeah, I know the feeling.” 

Staring at each other, you both shared a deep, content sigh. 

“C’mere,” Eddie said, beckoning you with his hand. You moved closer and laid your head on his chest. He wrapped his arm around your shoulders and pulled you tighter against him, placing a soft, sweet kiss on your forehead. 

You lay quiet for a few minutes, feeling his chest rise and fall, listening to the steady thump of his heartbeat.

“What are you thinking about right now?” you asked dozily. 

“Honestly…?” Eddie asked, his voice a low mumble. “I’m wondering how long it’ll take me to drive to the gas station and back.” 

Laughter bubbled up from your throat. You buried your face against his chest and snickered.

“Well, shit,” you said afterward, “I’d probably go with you… and then we’d end up having sex in the parking lot.” 

Eddie’s face broke into a grin. “Really?” he said humorously. “Well, in that case…” 

He moved like he was trying to sit up. Giggling, you put your hand on his chest and pushed him back down.

“Easy there, buddy.” 

“I’m just kidding,” he said, smiling. “I’d never dream of taking your virginity in a parking lot… well, I would dream of it, have dreamt of it, but I’d never actually do it.”

You laughed quietly and laid your head on his chest again. Humming softly, Eddie started tracing his thumb across your back slowly, back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. With each stroke, your eyes got heavier and heavier, until…  

“Hey,” Eddie began suddenly, with dull, drowsy panic in his voice “you’re not going anywhere, right? You’re gonna still be here when I wake up?”

You sat up and looked at him, confused. 

“Sorry, I know this sounds really weird, but…” He frowned deeply, struggling to make sense of his tired, jumbled thoughts. “It’s just, I finally got you back in my life. If you left now, I don’t think I’d be able to handle it.”

Your heart dropped at those words. You picked it back up, leaned down, and gently pressed your lips to his. 

“I’ll be here,” you said. “I promise.”  

SERIES MASTERPOST

FANFICTION MASTERLIST

unfortunately, i no longer do taglists. if you want to stay updated on my fics, you can follow me and/or subscribe to my posts. thank you!

[localplaguenurse]

Playing a game with Pantalone but everytime one of you loses you have to remove one article of clothing and suffice to say you lost all your clothes rather quickly and now he's smirking on how shall he indulge in you this time

I thought this was a predator/prey situation at first, which would have been pretty pog, but then I remembered the dumb strip poker joke I made the other day and realized that’s probably what you were talking about-

So that’s what I’m gonna write

CONTENT WARNING: Playing strip poker, no full blown smut but still suggestive. I might circle back to this in the future because I have ideas, but I’m not in a super smutty mood. Honestly it’s more silly than anything, but 18+ please. Also I have only played the Luigi poker minigame so shhh.

You hate this game, you don’t know why you keep agreeing to play it, and you hate that it was all your idea to begin with. It sounded like a fun way for you and your husband to spice things up a little, and in general seemed like a fun way to bond. Sure, you figured he’d win the first few times you played, but you weren’t complaining at the time. Surely, he wouldn’t win every time, right?

… Right?

You glare at your hand because you don’t want to glare at Pantalone. It’ll mean you have to look at his stupid smug grin over his winning streak. You see it every time he suggests you two play a few rounds of strip poker. Tonight is no different, and though you love his face so much, you cannot stand looking at him right now.

You don’t question if you’re losing because you have terrible luck or if you’re just bad at poker anyways. You know it’s both. It also can’t help that your husband is very good at taking chances and placing bets. He never makes a decision until he’s certain of the outcome and that it will work in his favour. You find this trait very admirable, except for right now.

“Darling, are you alright?” Pantalone asks, faux concern lacing his words. “You’re shivering a little.”

You’re currently hugging a pillow to your bare chest, both to give yourself some dignity, and because you’re nearly nude. “I’m fine.”

He chuckles. “Well, if that’s the case, have you decided what your next move is?”

“I-I’m still thinking,” you grumble, body cold but face burning hot. Truth be told, your hand is shit. The only thing you have going for you are two fives, and that’s it. That may as well be nothing with how your game has been going. Pantalone’s only lost the shirt, and you’re pretty sure it’s because he felt bad for you and threw that round. You don’t know what’s worse, him pitying you, or that he still decimated you.

You take two cards out of your hand and discard them, leaving only the two fives and an ace. You’re already certain you’re losing the round anyways, so you might as well see if you can get another ace, or maybe a five. Just something to make your hand better than being just above trash.

“Interesting…”

“Shush.”

You pick up two new cards and place them in your deck. Let’s see, you had a five of hearts, five of diamonds, and an ace of spades. You’ve picked up–

No way.

You blink, trying not to let your shock show (your poker face isn’t that great, either). Those two new cards consist of an ace of diamonds, and a five of clubs. Holy shit. Holy shit. That’s a full house! The only way Pantalone can beat that is if he gets 4 of a kind, a straight flush or a royal flush. You actually have a chance! Not a chance of winning the game, Archons no, but you’ll be keeping your underwear on for a round longer.

You smile, and present your hand. “Full house.”

Pantalone’s eyebrows widen, and he smiles. “Oh, goodness! Look at you! You’re starting to get the hang of this now. That is very impressive, my darling.”

You cross your arms, giving him the smug grin he’s been giving you all evening.

He sighs. “That… makes this all the more painful, I’m afraid.”

You watch as Pantalone lays his cards down in front of you. Your eyes widen, and your jaw drops.

“... Absolutely not.”

“I’m afraid so.”

“Are you kidding me!?” you ask. “A royal flush?! No, no I refuse… You did not just get that!”

“I assure you, darling,” he purrs, “I got it fair and square.”

You glare at him and his cards. An ace, a queen, a king, a jack, and a ten of hearts. Of course it has to be hearts, too.

“Now then, I think you know the rules.”

“Fine, fine, you win.” You move the pillow from your chest and toss it at his head. It makes contact, which makes him laugh. “I know the drill.”

“My my, you make it sound like such a horrible fate,” he teases. “Sure, I may have won again, but I think we both know this will be… equally rewarding for us, no?”

You roll your eyes. “Easy for you to say, champion strip poker king…”

“Oh, my little darling,” he coos in such a patronizingly sweet voice, “where’s the fun in being such a spoilsport? Don’t you enjoy playing with me?”

“I do, but it’s just frustrating that you’ve won every game we play.”

Pantalone laughs. “Then I suppose you’ll have to get good, as people say. Now, about my prize...”

[cinnbar-bun]

i loveeeeeeeeee your robin writing!! would love to see you do more nico robin x gn! reader

A/n: you didn't specify anything so I made some general hcs!

Rating: SFW

Notes: GN!Reader, Fluff

General Nico Robin Relationship HCs

Likes to learn about different hair styles and types in order to best fix your hair or care for it. She’s been reading up on the best way to treat your specific hair type, don’t worry. Her many hands makes it a breeze. 

Occasionally, some jokes/phrases fly over her head and she will take it at face value, not understanding what you mean. If you explain them to her, though, she’ll have an amused smile and chuckle. 

You’re one of the few people she’ll trust with her in a bath. This is especially big for her since her Devil Fruit powers no longer work in the water, but she know she can fully trust you. 

Enjoys dates where she can dress up in full glam and be by your side. Things like a night at an opera or a fancy restaurant are her type of thing (when/if she feels like going out).

Little tidbit: after eating at the restaurant/seeing the opera, if you two walk around the city at night, she’ll have this far out, dreamy look on her face. It’s beautiful, her shoulders are so relaxed and her eyes are wandering everywhere as if its the first time seeing the world. 

If you detour to say, a small art exhibit or even a flower field, watch as her smile reaches her eyes as the stars pale in comparison to her beauty and radiance. 

She has imagined getting a cat with you. Of course, not now, and especially not if you are allergic/afraid of them. But if you’re cool with it, she’s absolutely looking up the best kind of cat for you two to get and how to care for it. 

Robin has a habit of asking very personal and very philosophical questions at random times. If there’s a long period of silence, she might just drop “what do you think is there for us after death?” 

If you ask sillier questions like, “would you love me if I were a worm?” she would say, “why would you be a worm?” 

“Of course, I would still love you. I’d make sure no birds or other predators dived at you and ate you up. Maybe I’d get you a nice terrarium. But still, why would you be a worm?” 

Is always interested in your home traditions. This is especially important to her as she’s never really had a “home” ever since the Ohara incident, so enjoying you/your family’s traditions makes her feel welcome and like she belongs to a family. 

Very self-indulgent but could you imagine maybe taking her to your hometown and introducing her to your family and then she begins trying to learn everything about it? Enjoying the celebrations, trying the meals, listening to the elders… she is ecstatic. 

If you don’t have any family/cultural traditions (for whatever reason, no judgment here), Robin will elect to have you two make your own traditions. Sure, you two may not have the usual “family” or home most people may have, but it’s something the two of you made, and it’s special to her. She finds it irreplaceable. 

Happy to do cheesy couple things if you suggest them. It’s very unlikely she’ll suggest them, but when you do, she’ll have a smile on her face and agree to it. 

Often tries to flirt with you in other languages. She makes it sound so beautiful so even if you have no clue what she’s saying, you’ll melt. 

She’ll probably also say something silly but make it sound romantic even though she’s saying like “I ate a wasp and then cooked a hundred hot dogs”. You don’t need to know the truth. 

Probably considers making a secret language just for the two of you to communicate. She says it’s for fun to keep things private or joke without the others knowing, but it’s also for another reason. If, for some reason, you or her are ever separated and have a chance to communicate, the language could come in handy and have you send messages without them being intercepted or interpreted by others. 

Likes when you two share blankets when doing things like reading, or even simply when you two are sitting. Watching the stars or listening to the others talk is more romantic when she’s with you in a blanket.

[eddies-ashtray]

Insecurity and Love // Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader 

masterlist

Synopsis: You’re not feeling pretty today but Eddie, who wears his heart on his sleeve, is there to let you know just how much he loves you. 

WC: 1.3k

Category: Hurt/Comfort/Fluff. Some sexually suggestive content.

Content: Reader & Eddie are both 18+!! Insecurity (obviously), reader has some body-image issues and self-esteem issues ig (mentions of not being “thin enough”, not feeling pretty or deserving of love), brief descriptions of making out w Eddie, very brief allusion to cunnilingus, mentions of bottling up emotions, Eddie is a good listener and the sweetest bf ever, use of nicknames (sweetheart, baby, pretty) bc they make me melt, much tenderness <3. 

A/N: This is entirely self-indulgent, enjoy! 

***

“Okay. What’s going on with you today?” Eddie asks, bringing his hands back up to your face as you sit in his lap in his bed, Eddie leaning up against the headboard. 

When you don’t respond and instead look down at your fiddling fingers, he dips his head to look into your eyes. 

“Hm?” He hums, stroking your flaming cheek with the back of his pointer finger. 

You sighed. You didn’t want to bring it up. In fact, you tried so hard all day not to say anything, to keep your mouth shut because you didn’t want to sour the day. But you were not the type of person to hold things in. So many people just seem to bottle up their bad thoughts and feelings and store them away in an isolated part of their minds; locking those pieces of themselves away in the dark where no one can reach them. 

And maybe it’s unhealthy,—keeping things inside like that—but being unable to stop the dam from bursting, the water gushing out, recklessly flowing out and destroying everything in its path felt like a curse sometimes. People always say talking about things will make you feel better, but sometimes it makes you feel worse! Those thoughts and feelings all come out and they won’t stop and then you look like a fool because you probably didn’t make any sense and does anyone even want to listen anyway? Do they even care? 

So, you’d tried the bottling up thing. Which was way harder than it seemed. Especially as you told Eddie everything. And you might not think it most of the time, but he eats up every word. He wants to hear your silly rants about an episode of something you watched on TV the other night. He wants to listen to you drone on and on about your current favourite book or a new song you heard on the radio. He’s always prepared to hear about your shitty day and let you cry into his beat up Metallica t-shirt. And of course he is always ready to completely nerd out with you about any of your shared interests. 

But there was still that part of you that felt embarrassed when you went on rants about something or other. You weren’t used to that sort of attention; that much of it. 

To avoid talking about it you let a quick kiss become drawn out and slow and allowed yourself to be pulled into his lap and kissed until you were dizzy with it. You tried your hardest to focus on his hot tongue licking into your mouth and his large, rough hands slipping from behind your back to grip your hips and pull you closer. 

But you couldn’t stop thinking about it. And he could tell your mind was racing; that you weren’t fully there. So he pulled away and asked you to let the dam break. 

His big honeyed eyes traced your face with slight concern. But his expression was mostly soft, his lips kissed pink, a faint blush sweeping across his pale skin. He traced the line of your nose softly with his knuckle and gave you a soft smile, attempting to lull you into some sort of comfort. 

“Sweetheart,” Eddie prompted once more. You were a sucker for that nickname. 

“I’m sorry,” You shook your head, already feeling stupid. 

“Nothin’ to be sorry about, pretty,” He whispered, almost as if he was afraid he’d spook you if he spoke too loudly and then you wouldn’t talk at all.

His expression remained soft as he said, “Just want you to talk to me.”

You furrowed your brows slightly at that, heart aching. You just felt so much for him. Eddie was exactly what you wanted. Exactly what you needed. You didn’t deserve it. And that’s where the problem laid. 

“You’re too nice to me.”

“Not possible,” He said unflinchingly. 

Your brows knit together at that, titling your head at him, pained by how sweet this self-proclaimed metal-head truly was. 

“I just-I’m feeling-,” You began, and then stopped again as his right hand brushed down your arm soothingly and you finally looked him right in the eyes.

And then the dam broke and it all poured out. 

“I don’t feel pretty today. I mean-I don’t really feel pretty most days until I’m with you. Which I know is so awful because I should feel pretty all on my own, but it’s how I feel. And I always felt like I didn’t deserve any kind of affection or tenderness from anyone. Didn’t think I’d ever get any. I thought I wasn’t pretty enough or thin enough. And you’re just-you’re so-you’re you! And when you look at me I just feel pretty instantly. You make me pretty, Eddie…But sometimes I still feel the way I did before. Before I met you…And I know you used to have a crush on Chrissy and I’m so not as pretty or anything as her, and-I’m sorry, oh my god. See, this is the problem. I just keep talking and talking and I just-!” Frustrated tears stung in your eyes. You didn’t even try to hold them back, they just came rushing out, hot tracks down your face, staining your skin. 

But Eddie was right there, stunned to silence by your words, but brought back by your tears. He pulled you closer to him, wiping your tears away. 

“Baby, you are so pretty. You are so, so pretty,” Eddie sounded pained as he said it, brows knitting together as if trying to comprehend your words. 

“But, I-”

“Mm-mm, no. It’s my turn now,” He spoke, soft but stern, hands now cupping your hot cheeks and brushing over them. You shut up, thinking it was probably best, and let him speak, allowing yourself to be touched by him. 

“Look at me when I say this to you. Because you need to know that I mean every word of it, okay?” He asked, holding your face in his hands, ensuring you look into his eyes as he speaks. Then he nods your head for you and a smile breaks out onto your face as you giggle. Eddie was just like that; the perfect balance of seriousness when it was needed and silliness to lighten the mood, make things feel less heavy than they had been. 

Eddie smiles at your smile, infected by your sweetness, charmed by the sounds you make. Then he bows his head slightly, still holding your face gently in his palms, honeyed eyes charming you right back. 

He speaks slowly, allowing you time to process each and every syllable. 

“You deserve more tenderness and affection than I could ever give you in 100 years. And you’ve always deserved it; before you met me, and before I made you feel pretty…Which I am so glad I do, because you deserve to feel pretty too.” He says each word with such ease as if he doesn’t even have to think about them; he just knows they’re true. 

Your heart swells in your chest and your eyes wet with more tears because Eddie knows just what to say to make everything better again, knows just what you need to hear. But you think it’s more than that. You know he feels them too. Deeply. Eddie wears his heart on his sleeve and he never lies. He says what he feels; he’s always been this way and it’s incredible to be loved by someone like him and to love someone like him. 

“I love you so much,” You sniffle, brushing his long curls behind his ear and leaning in to kiss his cheek. And then down his jaw, to his chin, and finally his pretty mouth. 

He whispers he loves you too. He says it now and later in the evening when he’s between your thighs, making you feel the prettiest you’ve ever felt. 

***

Thank you so much for reading! This is my first piece of writing on here, so any feedback would be wonderful! Just send me an ask or like/reblog/comment! <3 

Wanna be tagged in new fics?

[doodle-pops]

Maedhros Having A Daughter | Pre-Darkening

Request: I know you said that there's a max of 3 requests per Feanorian and if it isn't filled yet, can I get headcanons for Maedhros being a father to his daughter pre-darkening or post. Whichever is easier for you, I don't mind. Thank you ❣❣ - Anon

A/N: I had a ball of a time writing about Maedhros being a dad to his little baby girl and watching her grow up. I went with Pre-Darkening, but I also have a few Post-Darkening headcanons sitting around in the drafts for this. They might get posted. . .when?

𑁍 When Maedhros learns that he’s expecting to be a father, the tears will not stop flowing. He will lift his wife around, spinning and embracing her with kisses.

𑁍 Later during the pregnancy, he learns that his firstborn will be a girl, and more waterwork erupts. Holding his wife’s belly, he’ll be constantly speaking to you every day, so you’ll be accustomed to his voice.

𑁍 If you’re giving trouble and don’t want to settle down in your mother’s belly, all he needs to do is talk to you, and you immediately calm down.

𑁍 When you’re born and he holds you for the first time, he never wants to let you go. Your mother will have to fight him— beg— for him to allow her to hold you. When she does fall asleep, he’ll take you and sit near a window and cradle you while looking over all your features, speaking to you in a soft voice. It’s most likely that you are born with his hair colour.

𑁍 Like most parents, he’s a bit light on the criticism in your direction, afraid that if he says he dislikes something you’ll go crying to your mother and make him look like the bad guy. So, instead, he’ll suggest you try something else or the both of you work on it next time.

𑁍 As a toddler, he loved waking up and prepping you for the morning, taking you on a little walk to see the environment, listening to your joyous laughter, which was music to his ears, and seeing your toothless smile. He’ll give you a bath and dress you while making silly faces at you. You make his childish side come out and he has no shame in expressing it.

𑁍 From a young age, you would be in the kitchen with him as he cooked, handing him utensils and spices with an enthusiastic grin. All that mattered to him was your happiness and that you were also elated to learn a hobbit of his.

𑁍 In his later years, he loved whenever you visited and brought homecooked meals that were the recipes he passed down to you. It puts a massive smile on his face to witness his teachings (even for something so simple).

𑁍 He enjoys doing lots of soft activities with you, mostly creative arts. He’ll take you to paint shops and spend the entire day with you, not complaining one bit, and indulge in your passion. If you want to do music, he’ll ask his brother— your favourite uncle at this point— to teach you.

𑁍 As you are growing up, he makes it clear by showing you, that he will always be there for you. He’s your knight in shining armour so you don’t need some ellon coming to your rescue.

𑁍 He is protective of you and dislikes when you perform dangerous stunts which bring you injuries; little or big, he freaks out and is ready to deal with that person or thing which is why he keeps you away from Celegorm and the twins. You have spent so much time with them, that you always seem to return sporting a new injury. He banned them from coming around for a while. A long while. Huan was allowed to pass by though.

𑁍 It’s likely that when you mature, you will also sport some good looks from your father, which means suitors line up for your hand, which further means most of them receive the glare and a deadly message that has them crying and running away. The first time you brought home your beloved, who you hid from him until it was official between you two – your poor lover almost passed out due to how calm your father was— he was too quiet.

𑁍 He did give his approval in the end though. He just wanted to make sure that the ellon/elleth wasn’t with you because of your status or your looks. He wanted it to be for genuine reasons.

𑁍 As an adult, you and your father always have a day planned where you’d meet with him and have breakfast or lunch and update each other about your lives and interest. He does take your interests seriously because whatever you wish to pursue, he’s right behind you assisting you all the way. The most he might do is be like a mother hen if the interest is a bit dangerous or rough. It’s a parent thing.

𑁍 You don’t have to worry about him assigning guards because it’s Valinor you’re dwelling; thus you are free to roam around. If you want to become an apprentice for a Vala, he is supporting you all the way.

𑁍 Little signs of affection like a hug or kiss can make his day better whenever you bless him with some. He may not be the most affectionate ellon, but when you are offering these loving gestures, he accepts them wholeheartedly. They leave him smiling all day.

𑁍 The same can be said whenever you randomly visit despite being an adult and living your private life should you have moved out of their home. Because you are his only girl, he's more impatient about your visitations. “When next are you visiting? Don't be a stranger, you are always welcome! You know you can stay with us right?”

𑁍 Maedhros doesn’t have any problem with you interacting with the rest of the family, especially his cousins (well yours also). It pleases him to see how well you all are getting along, and that you also take his views on ignoring the tension between the houses.

𑁍 For the most part, he tries to keep you away from the drama, but unfortunately, when things do become rough, he attempts to get you to take sides.

𑁍 He had to fight for your attention while you were growing up from his parents because they would always whisk you away the minute he and your mother turned their back, especially from Feanor.

𑁍 It’s a competition between him and his father who can spoil you more. One minute it’s “You’re spoiling her too much, she’s only a baby!”, “I’m her father, I’m the one who should spoil her the most!” to “Father, don’t you think that’s a bit much?” or “You never spoiled me like you do with her father!”

𑁍 It’s either grandma Nerdanel or your mother who has to step in and break up the tension. It’s funny that he complains about his father spoiling you when his brother fights over you as well (you’re the first girl in the family babes).

𑁍 He has to fight them as well because they are always attempting to cause chaos. It's worse whenever you favour an uncle and constantly request to see them. Maedhros is simply like, “Why do you wish to see them when your atya is here?” He is salty about the favouritism.

𑁍 You are supposed to only like him and favour no other males. Which is why he spends all the time that he can with you and spoils you endlessly (he wants you to have high standards as well).

𑁍 Even Nerdanel sneaks in the opportunity to spoil you whenever she can, but he can never complain to his mother to ease up. He knows better than to tell her to stop. He does put his foot down and step in whenever his parents are parenting you in a manner he disapproves of.

𑁍 It may have caused a few disputes, but Maedhros wants to raise you in the best and least pressuring manner suitable. You’re a princess, but you don’t need to be pressured to uphold an identity you haven’t discovered for yourself yet.

𑁍 The only thing he is concerned about as you mature are your manners. He doesn't need you earning a negative reputation for poor manners, this is where he'll be slightly strict. Be yourself, but don't go breaking the law and causing problems and staining your name.

𑁍 Overall, you have a loving father who would do anything to keep you happy and smiling. Supportive and understanding, Maedhros will also become your confidant.

Masterlist

Taglist: @hoshinokurasa @eunoiaastralwings @noldorinpainter @ranhanabi777 @spidergirla5 @lilmelily @someoneinthestars @mysticmoomin @aconstructofamind @starborne0661 @floraroselaughter @the-phantom-of-arda @rain-on-my-umbrella @singleteapot @wandererindreams @asianbutnotjapanese @justellie17 @justjane

[mochiimiiki]

| Saeran Choi Headcanons |

{GE Saeran x mc}

Warnings: spoilers for Saeran/ Ray route and after ending, sevens real name, some parts slightly suggestive (will be marker) so feel free to ignore those bits

A/N: the amount of pain and angst this man specifically has gone through is unbearable, out of all of the RFA members him and seven had it worst (my opinion). Anyways some happy hc because i think he deserves to be happy

- - -

After everything was resolved between Saeran and Saeyoung (which mind you took a while) the three of you decided to move and leave behind Saeyoung’s bunker, a place you had called home for the last six months

the reason for this choice was quite simple; a reminder of what was.

the twins didn’t need a reminder of everything that had happened over the course of time anymore than they needed the unpleasant memories. So they left.

The house which saeran and you moved to is a beautiful cottage, with a small farm attached. Saeran spends most of his days attending to the livestock and garden he grows, don’t worry though he definitely doesn’t neglect you (whether saeyoung came or not is up to you)

Saeran spends his days down in the dirt, very literally. As he’s all hands and knees and very much determined the best plants are grown from intense love and care

other than gardening and farming Saeran’s other past times are reading. He doesn’t have a particularly favourite genre but loves a good book with a happy ending. He reads all the books he can possibly get his hands on, very much including children books and fantasy novels. He was deprived of imagination when he was small so now he allows himself to indulge in it as he’s free to do

Saeran spends as much time with Saeyoung as he does his garden. This is mostly because Saeyoung is always around helping out on the farm, trying after years of being seperated to bond with his brother. Saeran deeply appreciates Saeyoung doing this as he knows being outside is something out of a comfort zone for Saeyoung (with unpleasant memories still always fresh Saeyoung feels safest behind a desk and screen).

Saeran is actually afraid of the dark so hopefully you don’t mind but he keeps a little nightlight by his bed side, it’s actually a cat and can change all sort of colours. It was invented by Saeyoung no doubt. Saeran treasures it with his whole heart.

Everytime you and Saeran go shopping he always collects a little toy, his inner child never had so much as a teddy bear so when he sees something he likes he gets it. Of course he asks you if he even should or if that’s silly, but naturally you insist that it’ll help heal his inner child.

Everytime Saeran sees you he gives you a kiss. On the forehead, cheek, neck, shoulder or lips it really doesn’t matter. He feels like giving you a kiss each time you see one another. It grounds him, reminds him that even though he has nightmares this, with you, is real.

Which means he ends up kissing you very often; you’re watching tv and he comes in from the garden. A kiss. You’re making dinner together and you go to the toilet, come back, a kiss. it doesn’t matter how much time apart you’ve spent. He just has to give you a kiss.

Now as mentioned before he does get nightmares and unfortunately they’re quite often, gently shake him awake if you hear him crying out in his sleep and murmur that it’ll be okay. He’ll hold you without saying anything until he drifts off again. Over time they fade away as he heals.

{suggestive} each time the two of you make love, and yes it’s 100% love making, saeran makes it his duty to tend to you. Running a soft, warm cloth over your body as you come down from your high. fixing your sweaty hair out of your face before heading off to fetch you some water and maybe a snack if you’re hungry. He treasures you and shows you that every way possible.

ofc u should give him aftercare everyone once in awhile (after you do he’ll not stop kissing ur face <3)

Saeran is a very tactile person. He went so long without physical touch that now he has yours he won’t let it go, ever. Has a hand on you, hovering about you or grabbing you every time he’s around. It’s probably another form of grounding for him, especially in crowded places where he feels very out of place and anxious.

Saeran 100% has hands on you everytime you kiss as well. and i mean everytime.

Work wise neither you nor saeran probably need to work as saeyoung has a lot of money and sold multiple cars to give saeran money. (he confirms at one point the gathering of cars was for his family)

However, Saeran never got to experience normal work and pay and so he does in fact work for awhile. He stays on with Jumin even after Jumin got elected and worked as part of a security team for a few months. But when you guys moved to the cottage/ farm he quit his job to focus on his life with you and Saeyoung. He just wanted a little bit of normalcy to feel complete.

One thing that doesn’t sit right with him no matter how much time has gone by is being out and about in a normal shop with normal people. It just never feels quite normal. He will of course insist on coming with you anytime you want to go shopping but other than that he doesn’t express any interest in exploring things like the cinema or public pools. Public places with so many people make him uncomfortable, especially with the way he’s recognised now because of the debacle with his dad.

His sanctuary is being in your arms, chatting with Saeyoung and your little farm together. (farmer Saeran brainrot)

Saeran devotes everything he has to you, that fact does not change no matter how much time passes. Every choice he makes is with you in mind, despite the fact you trying to dissuade him in order for him to form his own choices. But they are still his own decisions that he was free to make, he didn’t decide these things because he felt indebted to you but rather because he simply adores you and that was what he wanted to do to show you.

[chvoswxtch]

hahaha i’ve been sending you silly little anon messages every now and then for weeks! but i decided i wanna come off anon for the celebration!! <3 so huge congratulations on 2k miss court 💘 you deserve it so much.

i would looove a margarita based on the lyric “i loved you in spite of the deep fears that the world would divide us” (from dancing with our hands tied hehe) with the one and only frank castle <3

you deserve every single one, and more, of your 2000 followers!!! thank you for writing, thank you for indulging us in our fantasies, and thank you for being so unwaveringly kind through it all 🌷cheers to many more 🥂

my marvelous mia 💚,

thank you so much for your kind & lovely words, and thank you so much for joining me at the bar. cheers to you, darling. 🥂

also sorry this is super angsty I don't know what happened but when I read that lyric and re-listened to the song, this is what my gremlin brain came up with

blurb below the cut

dancing with our hands tied

i loved you in spite of the deep fears that the world would divide us

“You…you don’t know what you’re sayin’.”

Frank couldn’t look at you. It would be easier to walk away if he couldn’t see the look in your eyes; a broken reflection of his own disappointment and disgust. 

“Frank-“

“I am what they say I am. I did all those things. Hell, did more than they even know ‘bout.”

Frank wasn’t sure who he was trying to convince more right now that him leaving was the best idea; himself or you. The world knew the Punisher was alive. That meant that everyone who ever wanted their own vengeance against him knew he was no longer a ghost to be whispered about, but a monster to be foolishly hunted. 

If his head was the prize, your heart was collateral damage.

This was what was best. It would keep you safe. 

But fuck if it didn’t hurt. All he wanted to do was hold you, but how could he do that with his hands still stained red? How could he taint your skin with someone else’s blood that lingered beneath his blunt nails? 

Sooner or later, you’d realize what he really was, and he’d rather you walk away than run. 

“Frank, will you please look at me?”

He couldn’t look at you, because then he would want to stay. He’d want to be selfish, and give into his own delusions of a second chance. A livelihood that wasn’t so violent. Four walls filled with nothing but you and him. A sacred promise around your left finger. Maybe even a goddamn dog. 

You had appeared out of nowhere, like a mirage of an oasis in the desert, and Frank didn’t want to remove his cup from your heavy handed pour of love and affection. You were the sun in the center of his universe, radiating pure warmth that melted the layers of frost surrounding his abandoned heart, and now he was helplessly trying to shove it back into the freezer.

Frank closed his eyes when he caught you moving out of his peripheral vision, letting his head hang in shame between his shoulders as your delicate palm cradled the back of his head. Your other hand gently caressed his cheek, pulling him in closer so that you could touch your foreheads together, and Frank fought like hell to keep the floodgates from bursting open as he gripped onto your waist like a lifeline.

“I want you to listen to me. I know exactly who you are, Frank. And I still love you all the same. There is nothing you could ever do that would change my heart. I know you’re afraid, and I understand why. I know being with you comes with risks. I knew that from the very beginning. But Frank…I’d take five minutes of madness with you over a lifetime without you. The safest place I have ever been is with you. So please…please don’t leave, baby. Please stay. Just stay with me.”

Frank leaned in to capture your lips in a soft kiss, pouring every word he couldn’t speak into your mouth, holding you so tightly to his chest, he thought you might merge into one single being.

You wanted him. You loved him, despite everything. You didn’t want him to let go. You didn’t want him to leave.

You wanted him.

As the two of you stood there grasping onto one another in the middle of the living room under the glow of the moonlight, Frank realized what a fool he’d been.

He couldn’t leave you if he tried.

[indulgentandidiotic]

Riddle/Ace/Deuce w/ an S/o Who Cannot Sleep W/out Their Plushie & S/O's Nighttime Ritual (Separate)

Synopsis: Wherein reader has a night-time ritual where their plushie must stay on the bed at all times, lest the demons come to get them.**

CW: NOT PROOFREAD, no warnings otherwise GN Reader

A/N: Yet another self-indulgent post, taking inspiration from my experiences. This also comes off as a vent fic, or comfort. I just need a little reassurance. A time where the work is so self-indulgent that it caters to me and no one else. Nevertheless, it’s in “x reader” format because that’s what I’m comfortable with. Perhaps someone will find this relatable in some way.

.~

Step 1. Make sure plushie is on the bed.

Riddle: Is quite understanding. He, too, has rituals that must not be broken. He understands why you’re so frantic when your plushie is missing, and why you cannot sleep unless it’s there. The stuffed toy makes you feel secure, just as rules make him feel secure. When your plush goes missing, he helps you search the room and surrounding areas, and he doesn’t make fun of you for being so worried.

Ace: He laughs at you. He thinks your little ritual is silly. After all, sleeping with stuffed toys is for little kids! But after you get so upset at him for making fun of you that you’re almost in tears, he apologizes (more like mumbles out a, “Sorry, I guess..”). This ritual is really important to you, yeah? He’s unsure if this ritual preceded your time at NRC, or if it’s something you came up with in response to all the trauma you’ve surely gotten by being everyone’s therapist and dealing with overblots, but he’s too afraid to ask. Ace starts helping you, after a while. It’s not a silly ritual if it makes you feel safe, and if anyone but him makes fun of you for it, he’s beating them up! He’ll still make jokes from time to time, but he’ll still make sure the plush is on your bed, or help you find it when it gets lost. And hey, if you can’t find it, he’ll stand in! Your lovely boyfriend will be better at keeping the monsters away, anyway!

Deuce: Is understanding, too. He used to sleep with plushies when he was younger, so he understands why you feel safe when it’s around. He’s just very sweet about the whole thing. He’s very proactive, and he often notices if the plush is not on your bed way before you do. If the plush gets lost and you can’t find it before nightfall, he’ll give you one of his plushies to use instead. It may not work the same, but you have the addition of Deuce cuddling with you in bed, so it adds up!

.~

Step 2. The plushie must face the side of the room with the window until it is time to slumber.

Riddle: This rule is a bit more specific, but nothing Riddle finds odd. He’s seen much more specific rules within the Queen’s Rulebook, so he isn’t fazed when you look over to your bed during study time to make sure your plush is facing the right way. It becomes part of even his routine; he checks your bed first thing whenever he enters your room, making sure the plush is on the bed and facing the right direction. Just make sure you’re not getting too distracted. There’s no need to check it thrice if you already know it’s facing the right way.

Ace: Isn’t fazed, either. It’s just another part of your ritual. As long as it doesn’t take too much attention away from him, he’ll go along with your steps. He won’t go out of his way to ease your worries, but if he notices the plush is turned the wrong way, he’ll flip it over.

Deuce: AGAIN! Very sweet, he’s so precious. You don’t need to explain to him why it has to face a certain way, he just understands. If he notices, he’ll flip the plush the right way!

.~

Step 3. When comes nightfall, one must face away from the window and sleep on the side nearest the window, and the plush must also face away from the window, on the side of the bed farthest from it.

Riddle: Once again, he’s seen stranger rules in the Queen’s Rulebook. Though, when he sleeps with you, he wonders whether he should position himself on the side of the bed closest to the window, in the middle of you and the plush, or on the side farthest from the window (the side that happens to be farthest from you 😔). He’s seen how you sleep, him often going to bed after you in order to get some more studying done. You’ll keep the plush close to your heart, probably to make sure it doesn’t fall off. But then where does he fit in? If he sleeps closest to the window, you won’t be facing him, and if he sleeps in the middle, he might knock the plush off by accident. It’s a dilemma, but the last thing Riddle wants is to disrupt a ritual that makes you feel safe. So you better either make amendments or exceptions to your rules or give him a designated spot to sleep (preferably beside you 🥺). As for there being empty space on both sides of the bed, he has tried to help you push it over, but you two are not strong enough.

Ace: He’s kinda confused. Why are you so against sleeping facing the window? Is something out there? Once you explain that facing away from the window prevents the demons from coming inside the house, and the plushie both amplifies the effect and keeps the demons in your room from crawling into your bed, he’s still confused. There are ghosts in Ramshackle… oh? You’re not talking about them? Then what demons-? He can clearly see that talking about this is making you uncomfortable, so he decides to let it pass. At first, he thought your rules were silly, and then he got used to them, and now he’s worried. Going to bed each night seems to be a stress-filled endeavor. The bed is large, which you seem to be uncomfy with, and there’s empty space on both sides, which you also don’t seem to be comfy with. While Ace doesn’t understand all of the things you do, he doesn’t want you to feel unsafe doing everyday things, so he helps you push the bed to the wall. Now there’s only empty space on one side, and you seem to feel much better. As for sleeping with you, you’ve told him that he cannot sleep in the middle of you and the plush (as you think he wouldn’t pick the plush back up if it fell off the bed). That leaves the space near the window since he doesn’t want to sleep on the edge of the bed farthest from you. On occasion, he’s asked you to face him, with his argument being that if any demons decide to come into the house, he’ll defeat them for you. It’s worked a couple of times. You definitely feel safer with your face buried in his chest and his arms around you.

Deuce: Just as Ace does, he helps you push the bed to the wall with the window. He doesn’t understand why it makes you feel safer, but if it works, it works. As for where he sleeps, you don’t mind. You’ve allowed him to sleep in the middle of you and the plush because you know he’d pick it up if it fell. And even if he doesn’t, there’s just something about him that is so comforting, that you’re okay if you don’t use the plushie that night. In fact, Deuce seems to ease your worries better than the plush does anyway. Sleeping with your back against the window and cuddling with Deuce under the warm blanket is just as comforting as when it’s just you and the plushie.

.~

Step 4. If you wake up and the plushie has fallen off the bed, pick it up as soon as possible!

Riddle: This is a very important step. You’ve told him on multiple occasions. He believes you, as you’ve often told him of the times when you were too lazy to pick the plush back up and you had nightmares after you went back to sleep. Whenever you sleep before him when he stays over, he makes sure to pick up the plush if you’ve accidentally knocked it over. And when you both go to sleep, he makes sure to hold you real close to him, with the whispered promise to keep you safe. His rose is not getting a nightmare, not when he’s there.

Ace: Has gotten more worried. Is there some evil being haunting you for you to get nightmares when you don’t follow through with your ritual? If so, he’s giving that monster the beating of its life (not that he actually could, but it’s the thought that counts). You told him of the two times you woke up to find the plush had fallen and you went back to sleep, only to wake up a few hours later from a nightmare. Those times had scared you into implementing that rule, even causing you to wake up in a nervous sweat in the middle of the night to make sure the plushie was still by your side. Ace doesn't want you to lose sleep over this, so he comes over more often. When he's around, you can count on him as an extra defense against the demons and nightmares of the night.

Deuce: Is just as worried as you when the plushie is not on the bed. He works at all costs to make sure you don't get nightmares. And while he'd rather sleep close to you, he'll sleep on the side farthest from you if it means making sure the plush does not fall off. Your comfort and mental well-being is his top priority, so he doesn't mind a little extra rules if it ensures your safety. Is also the type to shout into the room, "I know you demons are in here! And if you come anywhere near my partner it'll be lights out for you!! 🤬🤬"

.

**Yay! In conclusion they all love you very much and will go along with your ritual if it makes you feel safe. They are such good boyfriends, who could ask for anything more~**

[radiokathryn-if]

don’t know if this has been asked before but on a scale of 1 to 10 how resistant are the ROs to MC giving them the puppy eyes?

cute! 1 being' stone faced not budging' and 10 being 'will fall over their own feet to comply' :)

NATE──switches between -5/10 and like 3/10. Puppy eyes simply annoy him. He hates the puppy eyes, hates that people think they can even attempt to manipulate him into doing something for them─for you. If you push it he will raise his voice or just leave you completely. (If you do it sarcastically he may be petty enough to follow through with your 'super serious' request just to spite you, though)

EVA──4/10. She's not a maid, she's not going to make you a sandwich or fetch you a drink if you're capable of doing it yourself (it's a different story if your tired or ill) she'll agree to things that the two of you can do together like going for some candy floss at a fair because you haven't had it in ages or spontaneously trying out a new hobby because you caught sight of a flyer and it looks interesting. Anything else you'll have to try very hard to get her to even think about agreeing!

MICA──ranges from 2/10 to 6/10. They've know you for a very long time, they've been exposed to your puppy eyes for years and have grown immunity for them! They tend to agree to the more spontaneous of questions... as well as the more amusing 'crackheadish' ones you can come up with. Mica might indulge you on the very small ones in which you're too lazy to stretch that inch further for the TV remote or to go to the next room because you forgot your phone... Sometimes they say no just to watch you beg more!

DETECTIVE HAN──somewhat surprisingly, 9/10. The detective may cave immediately, especially if your request is small/easy to achieve. They trust you not to use your puppy eyes in serious situations─so when you do use them they tend to be unguarded and give in immediately so they aren't flustered for too long.

JOSÉ──7/10. They like doing things for the people they like! It's not so much as 'falling for puppy eyes' but rather just saying yes to your requests and questions. Though, they're not a complete push over, you can't fool them into throwing their money away or doing something inappropriate during work hours... Small things like fetching a drink from the kitchen or actually going to that cafe you've been talking about for ages are a given!

JI HAN──depending on the nature of your request... 4/10 or 8/10. He's not above helping you out or going along with something silly, honestly most times his rejections to your requests are just him teasing you to see what you'll do/how far you'll go. He has some boundaries though and he's not afraid of the word no.

FAUVE──2/10. She doesn't like being told what to do... And as a woman you gets 'asked' to do things as a thinly veils threat of command... she's pretty resistant to most requests, especially with puppy dog eyes. That being said, if she's in a silly mood and the request isn't outrageous you might get her you comply! (it works more when she's in love, just saying)

JACKSON──3/10. You think your puppy eyes can better the puppy eyes of an actual child? Jackson has practice withstanding the begging eyes of his daughter, he's built up immunity! (he'll crack eventually, especially if you don't push too much.)

???──5/10. They're not exactly the world's most... integrated-into-society-type so their perception of what a request that may be something they could say no to with no problems (and this the need for puppy eyes) isn't exactly the best. By no means does that mean they're a doormat, it just means you have an equal chance if them outright refusing or complying straight away!