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#i just have a hard time putting my thoughts into coherent sentences
jonathanbiers · 2 years
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Argyle never gets frustrated with Steve when he doesn’t understand something. He doesn’t roll his eyes, or give That Sigh. He explains things patiently, if a bit abstractly, and when Steve is way off base Argyle runs with it. Is Vecna a vampire? Whoa that would be wild, man! Do you think he can’t have garlic? We could just take him out with a gnarly garlic pie, my dude!
the way you're seeing into my mind.... argyle being really soft with steve and taking the time to make sure he doesn't feel stupid when he's confused is something i've considered AT LENGTH (specifically in dms with @himbohohoharringtxn who has the unfortunate luck of being on the receiving end of Most of my argyle thoughts fdjghkdfj)
i would like to preface this by saying that i am firmly in "argyle and steve are both genuinely smart" territory. i think steve is very neurodivergent coded (i see the arguments for adhd/autism/dyslexia/ocd and as someone who might be autistic but is diagnosed with the other three....i see these arguments and i agree on all fronts) and there's also the head trauma of it all, though that's not what this is about. he's not fucking dumb, he just needs things broken down and explained to him in a very specific way. nothing wrong with that!
as far as argyle is concerned - we've literally seen him in action noticing small details no one else has(one of my fav parallels between them), which ends up being the reason the cali group finds nina and el. he's not fucking dumb either, just delivered to us as a comic relief stoner character with little dimension because the duffers need to be fucking stopped
BUT ANYWAY! you're so right! argyle would see the way steve sometimes gets brushed off and spoken over. the rest don't mean it to be hurtful and steve tries not to show that it does sometimes sting (because it's really not that big of a deal to him and it's not like they're being outright mean) but he would ABSOLUTELY "yes and-" whatever steve's off the wall question or idea was, if anything just to make him laugh, relieve some of the tension. AND IT WORKS is the thing.
it's not just, "duuuude, what if we just lure vecna into the sun? he'll be TOAST in five seconds flat, no fighting necessary. nancy, you can put the gun down, we're gonna hurl garlic cloves at him with a slingshot!" in one fell swoop, argyle is 1. making sure steve feels heard and not spoken over; 2. acknowledging steve's input and effort in a way that, let's be honest, the others don't do very often; 3. putting a smile on the group's faces for a while because fuck they're kids in a stressful situation and need a laugh; 4. putting himself in the line of fire so the others can rag on him instead.
argyle would do this when they aren't even dating yet and steve definitely would not be normal about it, he'd be smiling so big and soft and then argyle would catch his eye and smile back and they'd have this little quiet moment between them amidst all the chaos and dread.
after they're dating though? oh, they'd be INSUFFERABLE. they'd be such a pda couple, with the ridiculous pet names("what the fuck did you just call me?" "don't worry about it, my lil sweet potato pie."), and the open flirting until their friends are fake-retching, the whole nine yards. argyle is hanging off of steve's back with his arms around his waist and not even acknowledging it as he makes his argument to the rest of the group that, "no, no, listen. steve is onto something here, i just know. what if-"
and when they're alone, it'd be less of the theatrics and silliness and more of the gentle patience. they're both smart in really different ways and when argyle gets something steve doesn't and steve is getting a little frustrated about it, he'd take his hand or pull him close and just distract him with a little bit of affection to get him to cool down because he knows being frustrated isn't going to help steve figure out whatever it is. conversely, steve does the same when he's trying to explain something to argyle - though he's less likely to get as frustrated when confused, and more likely to pretend to take longer to get it than he actually does because listening to steve explain a subject he's knowledgeable about is fucking hot, can you blame him? they're just soft with each other, okay
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Stars In My Eyes
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(a part two to this fic!)
modern music teacher!eddie munson x art teacher fem!reader
18+ ONLY MDNI!!!
warnings: fluff, so fluffy, first dates, first kisses, some anxiety/stress, a little dash of coach!steve harrington, suggestiveness
author's note: i feel like this took me ages to write! so sorry for the wait...i do sort of love how this turned out :) writing a first kiss scene is hard!!!
please let me know what your thoughts are on this series!
word count: 7.7k
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Eddie Munson couldn’t believe his luck.
Like, sure he’s gotten lucky a few times before.  There was that one time an officer let him off with a warning after he rolled through a stop sign, he’d played the “I’m a teacher during finals week” card and it had seemed to work out pretty well for him.  There were also a few times when a stranger in front of him at the Starbucks drive thru had paid for his morning coffee, only for him to turn around and see there was no one behind him to pay it forward to.  
And then, there was that time back during his final senior year where Stacy Cowell was going through a “rebel phase” and decided to give Eddie a string of random blowjobs over the course of a week and a half to make herself feel like she was living on “the wild side.”  She quickly transitioned out of that phase when Eddie had asked her out on a date, he figured they should probably make an effort to learn a little about each other if she was going to be deepthroating him in the back of his van every other day after school.  She turned him down with a disgusted sneer, leaving Eddie a little heartbroken by the fact that a girl could be so offended at the idea of a date with him.  
But none of that even mattered to Eddie anymore.  All of those situations touched by a bit of luck have been reduced down to mere coincidences now that he has you in his life.  Even though it was only one IKEA date trip that the two of you went on last weekend, Eddie couldn’t stop himself from imagining a long, happy future with you because of how fucking perfect it all went.
You don’t think you’ve ever been so nervously giddy over anything in your entire life.  There had never really been any boys that you were crazy for when you were younger.  Sure, you’d been in love a couple times before, but nothing was ever…”wow.” 
 You’d never felt any real sparks, never met anyone truly special enough to change your life like all of the women you’d seen in movies or read about in books.  
But Eddie…he was very much wow.
After you’d worked out the details for your IKEA trip that afternoon in your classroom, you found it hard to stop blushing for the remainder of the week.  The both of you decided that you’d go on Saturday morning, and Eddie had insisted on picking you up and driving there together.  He bowed his head and lightly pressed his lips to your hand in a dramatic and silly fashion before leaving your classroom.  Your knees felt weak and a bright red blush bloomed on your face as Eddie stood back up to his full height to face you. 
“You know,” he started, still holding your hand, "you're really cute when you blush like that.”
A tiny squeak is all that comes out of your mouth when you open it to respond.  
You struggle to put together a coherent sentence and settle for the smile and girlish giggle that bubbled its way out of your chest.  
“I’ll see you later.”
Eddie started to walk backwards, keeping your hand in his grasp until he was too far away and then turning around to exit your classroom.  There wasn’t much else you could do except stare at the hand that had just been held by him, while holding your other over your mouth in shock.  
Eddie waited the appropriate five seconds after being out of your line of sight before erupting into a silent “fist-punching-head-banging-fuck yeah!” celebration in the hallway.  He couldn’t believe he kissed your hand.  The thought to kiss your hand had barely graced his mind before his body had made the decision to go through with it.  Eddie was terrified that his nerdy qualities would cause you to run for the hills, or that you’d think he was weird or stupid.
But instead, you’d blushed bright red and blessed his ears with a giggle, and all of Eddie’s worries and fears were banished from his mind at the sound of it.  
Eddie decided he was going to really enjoy taking every opportunity to make you blush.  
-
There were only two days until your IKEA trip with Eddie, and somehow you kept missing each other in the hallways at school.  On the rare occasion that Eddie had a spare moment, you were at some kind of art teacher workshop.  Whenever you could pull yourself away from decorating your classroom and lesson-planning, Eddie was leaving early for the day to go look at different types of Tubano drums for his classroom.  
There were a couple of staff meetings that everyone had to attend, but the two of you never ended up sitting next to each other.  Instead, you would indulge in a game of eye tag, making yourself feel like you were in high school all over again with a big fat crush.  
While you were really looking forward to your day out with Eddie, a tiny part of you was glad that you weren’t running into him constantly.  You found yourself overpouring your coffee in the morning because of the way the deep brown shade of the coffee matched the color of Eddie’s eyes.  You accidentally took a sip out of your paint water cup instead of your drinking cup because you were staring off at the lamps in your room, wondering which one had been Eddie’s favorite.  Two days was just what you needed to collect yourself enough to act like a normal human being before you saw Eddie again.  You weren’t even allowing yourself the time to think about being in a car with him for the hour that it took to get to IKEA.  All of the workshops, lesson plans and other preparation for the start of school kept you calm and collected.
Eddie, on the other hand, was reduced to a pile of chunky silver rings and nerves.  He couldn’t stop thinking about everything he had to get done before your trip…date?  Was it a date?  Did you say the word date when you asked him?  Is it even a date when the girl asks the guy-
Eddie’s frantic pacing is interrupted by a shark knock on his propped open classroom door.
“Yo, Munson.  How’s the…” Steve trailed off as he took in Eddie’s disheveled state.  “Dude.”
“I know, I know, man.” Eddie responds, plopping down in a chair that was meant for one of his students.  He puts his head in his hands, tugging on the roots to try and get a grip.
“What’s goin’ on, Ed?  I haven’t seen you this distraught since One Direction broke up.”  Steve sits on top of a desk next to Eddie, jabbing him softly in the shoulder after his lame attempt at getting a smile out of Eddie.  
Eddie chuckles and shakes his head at the stupid joke.  He looks up at Steve with a deep sigh, then stands up and grabs him by the shoulders.
“If I tell you, it stays between us.”  Eddie fixes Steve with a hard look and raised eyebrows, not any different from the look he gives his students when they’re getting up to no good.  “I’m so dead serious.”
Steve’s eyes widen at the sudden seriousness, making a cross over his chest with his finger.  “Yeah man, cross my heart and all that.”
Eddie lets go of Steve, slumping back into the chair with a huff.  
“How do you know that a date is a date, and not just a friend thing?”
Steve smiles cockily and leans forward, always interested in Eddie’s love life…or lack thereof.
“Well, I don’t know…I think I might have to hear a little more about this special lady in order for me to provide some of my good ol’ Harrington Love Advice.”  Steve wiggles his eyebrows at Eddie, throwing in a wink for the sake of being annoying.
Eddie rolls his eyes, he knew it was a mistake to bring up girls around this guy.  Steve was always giving Eddie pointers on how to get chicks the way he did, but Eddie was in no way similar to Steve when it came to relationships.  Steve never had nothing to do on the weekends, always with a new girl, sometimes even the single moms at school.  He’d meet them out at a bar, woo them, take them to dinner and then even sometimes back to his place.  Despite his fuck-boy tendencies, Eddie knows it’s never that meaningful for either party.  Steve’s been pining after one of the English teachers for years, and these flings are only serving as a way to satiate his intensely flirtatious side.  
As annoying as he may be, it would be nice to rant about all of his pent up loverboy feelings for you to Steve.  Eddie knows he’s just giving him a hard time, it’s one of the many love languages they share as best friends.
“I-it’s just…she’s so beautiful man, like…holy fuck.”  Eddie shakes his head in disbelief, looking off into the distance as he rambles on about you.  “I mean just…she looks like some kind of Elven princess-angel-goddess-fairy–”
“Dude, Ed.  None of that nerd shit please, say it to me in English.”
Eddie chuckles and shakes his head with a sigh.  
“Okay.  I really like her.  I haven’t felt this way in years, maybe ever.  We met officially yesterday and just…clicked.”
Steve smiles at Eddie as he talks about you, happy to see his friend so excited about someone.
“We made plans to go to IKEA this weekend, but I don’t know what to make of it?  Is it a date?  Should I bring her flowers?  What if I do bring her flowers and she gets weirded out because it was actually never a date at all?”
Steve holds his hands up like he’s trying to calm down an animal.  
“Woah there, buddy.  No need to get all freaked out about it.”  Steve can’t help but to laugh a little at the helpless look on his friend’s face.  “Let’s just start with the details, okay?  Who asked who?”
“She asked me.  I said I liked her lamps and then she said she got them at IKEA and then I said that I needed some for my room and then she said that we should go to IKEAandshopforsometogether-”
“Okay, okay man.  Take a deep breath.”  Steve motions for Eddie to inhale for a couple seconds.  
“Then let it all out.”  Eddie expels the breath from his lips in a hard huff, looking a little calmer.  “Alright.  So, she asked you?”
Eddie nods.
“That’s good, it means she’s interested!  Not a lot of women are making the first move these days, it means that she definitely wants a slice of Munson.”
Eddie rolls his eyes at Steve, but still waits for him to go on.
“Are you picking her up for the trip to IKEA?”
“Yeah, I offered to pick her up and drive us both there since it’s about an hour away.”
Steve scratches his five o’clock stubble.
“Hmm…okay.  Did she like…jump at the chance for you to drive her or was there some hesitation before she agreed?”
Eddie thinks back to that moment.  How the two of you were standing slightly too close for new friends, the way your eyes seemed to sparkle as you looked up at him, how he was surprised you couldn’t hear his heart beating out of his chest.  
He remembers offering to drive the both of you to the store, surprising himself by saying it way calmer than he was feeling.  Your face lit up a little, like you were shocked that he’d even offer to pick you up and drive you there.  You smiled and nodded your head sweetly before agreeing out loud.
Eddie feels himself smiling at the tiny memory.
“It wasn’t like she immediately answered…but she definitely was smiling when she agreed.  She didn’t seem nervous about it or anything, it was more like she was excited or something.”
Steve’s eyebrows shoot up as a smirk emerges on his face.
“So let me see if I’m getting this straight.  She asked you to go to IKEA, probably knowing it was a long drive, and then she happily agreed to let you pick her up and drive the two of you there?  For a whole two hours there and back?”
Eddie nods, anxiously awaiting Steve’s opinion on all of this.
“I mean, it’ll probably be a good four or five hours that you spend together driving and shopping.”
Steve fixes Eddie with a look that says ‘c’mon man, it’s obvious.’
Eddie’s had enough of his edging.  “Will you just get to the fucking point please for the love of god?”
Steve sighs and claps a hand on Eddie's shoulder. 
“Ed, it’s a date.”
Eddie barks out a triumphant laugh and Steve does the same.  The two men high five and Steve wraps a beefy arm around Eddie’s shoulder to pat him on the chest.  Eddie can’t help but to let out a big sigh of relief now that he can stop worrying about how to act on this trip date.
-
On Friday, you could’ve sworn you went slightly neurotic.  
Since Tuesday you’d been considering your day with Eddie as a date, but it suddenly hit you that maybe he didn’t feel the same way.  What if you’d been doing all this worrying and freaking out for no reason?  What if he ends up calling you ‘dude’ the entire day?  What if he has a girlfriend already, and he just agreed to take you to IKEA so that you wouldn’t get your feelings hurt?
You’d been running circles in your head trying to prepare yourself for any and all possible outcomes that Saturday could hold for you, but none of it seemed to be doing you any good.
So, you did what you always did whenever you found yourself flipping out over something new.
You made a to-do list. 
Pick out an outfit.  Dress! too fancy…jeans?  Dress, definitely dress. not too fancy though…
Drink wine 
Watch movie
Clean house…again
Drink more wine
Possibly reconsider outfit…
After all was said and done, you plopped down on your worn-in couch, sufficiently drunk with a clean house and an outfit neatly hung up outside of your closet.  You decide to pour your third and final glass of wine for the evening, and to surrender your anxiety to the gods of love.  You hope and pray that they like you enough to let you have this one. 
-
It was finally Saturday.  Eddie stands in front of his closet furiously, wondering why in the fuck he can’t find a single thing to wear for his date with you today.  He’s got enough clothes to fill his entire closet, dresser, and a $20 clothing rack he picked up at Target years ago.  Steve said to just go with what felt the most like ‘Eddie’, but he’s suddenly unable to remember what his style even looks like.  
He wants to punch himself in the nuts for not taking the time last night to plan this all out like a normal person.  
He ends up settling for a fitted white tee, a pair of trusty black jeans, and black boots.  On a FaceTime call with Steve (so he could approve Eddie’s choice), Steve mentioned that the outfit was casual, but still fairly nice, and that the white shirt showed off his tattoos and muscles.
“Chicks dig the muscles and white tee combo, man.  Trust.”
Eddie chuckles at his friend’s ‘frat boy’ lingo, but the comment makes him feel better about his appearance anyways.  Last year, Steve had managed to convince Eddie to start going to the gym with him after school during the week, and it pains him to admit that he sort of really likes it now.  He likes how much stronger he feels, he likes sweating out all of his frustrations, and most of all he likes the way he fills out his t-shirts now.
After hanging up the call with Steve, Eddie flexes a little in his mirror before leaving to go pick you up.  He decides to do a few last minute push ups and to moisturize the tattoos on his arms so that he looks extra good for you.
-
Perhaps being slightly neurotic about this date was a good idea.
Thanks to all of your meticulous planning, you managed to get completely ready with a half hour to spare.  You decided against sitting on your couch until Eddie arrived since the nervous butterflies in your stomach made you want to throw up, so you opted to wander around your house for the remainder of the time.
You pass by your mirror, doing a final check and making sure your outfit and makeup are up to par.  You’d decided on a simple white dress, with a denim button up thrown over it and your pair of black chelsea boots that had yet to let you down.  You smile at your reflection, happy that you’d managed to choose a comfy and cute outfit that felt like you.
There’d been too many dates before this one where you’d gone out and spent insane amounts of money on brand new outfits that you weren’t even sure you really liked, all in the name of impressing your date and hoping he likes you enough to ask you out on a second one.  When prepping for those dates, you spent hours upon hours running around like a mad woman.  Shaving, plucking, tweezing, waxing.  Making sure your hair curled just right and that your eyeliner was sexy, but not slutty.
You couldn’t figure out why Eddie felt so different to you.  Even though the nerves of a first date had really freaked you out the night before, this morning was fairly calm.  Sure, you took plenty of time in the shower and doing your hair and makeup, but it didn’t feel like you were trying to morph into a different version of yourself to please a man. 
It felt more like you were trying your best to look like your favorite version of yourself. 
You want Eddie to know who you are inside and outside of work, and you really hope that he likes what he finds. 
-
Eddie stays parked outside of your house for a minute or two to try and settle his nerves.  
You lived in a small, red brick house in a family neighborhood.  There were flowers planted in the beds under your windows, and your front door was painted a deep turquoise color.  Eddie sucks in a breath when he sees your figure moving around through the gauzy white curtains covering your windows.  
How can a hazy silhouette still be so beautiful?
Looking into his rearview mirror, Eddie takes a deep breath.
“You got this man.  Be cool.”
He turns his car off and makes his way to your front door, knocking three times and then taking a step back to wait for you.
It takes all of two seconds for your front door to swing open, revealing you on the other side.
Eddie immediately feels weak in the knees.  You looked so cute in your little boots, and he couldn’t help but to let his eyes trail up the smooth skin of your legs.  He gulped a bit at the short hem of your dress, and then realized he should probably say something.
“Hey you.”
“Hi,” You smile up at him bashfully as he looks you up and down.  You take the opportunity to look him over as well, and damn.  You already knew he was sexy, but his tight tee shirt and pulled back hair made you want to drag him into your house and do things to him…
You only notice that he’s been holding a hand behind his back when he brings it out in front of him, revealing a beautiful bouquet of flowers.  
“These are for you.  I didn’t know which was your favorite, so I just asked the lady to throw together a bunch of different kinds and to make it look pretty.”  Eddie holds the colorful bouquet out to you and smiles sheepishly.  
Your mouth hangs open as you reach out to take them, being so careful for no real reason.  You look up at Eddie with those big, sparkling eyes.
“Thank you so much, Eddie.  These are so incredibly beautiful,” he watches you looking down at the flowers, gently brushing your fingers against their petals.  “Let me run inside and find a vase for them real quick.  Come on in!”
You wave him in behind you and hurry inside.
Eddie tries to suppress the excitement he feels at being invited into your home.  He felt like he already got a good glimpse at who you are and how you express yourself when he was inside your classroom, but he’s now getting to see where you spend the majority of your time, where you live.  As he steps over the threshold and into your house, he readies his brain to take mental pictures of everything he sets his eyes on, just in case he never sees it again.
Instantly, he’s hit with a sense of “home.”  The inside of your house is the perfect temperature and it smells so good and womanly, like your perfume and also like you’ve been baking something but somehow also like flowers…Eddie loves it already.
You scurry off into the kitchen, trying not to think about the fact that Eddie Munson is looking around your house right now.
Where in the hell have all of your vases run off to?
Eddie walks around cooly with his hands clasped behind his back, taking in everything about your space.  Much like your classroom, Eddie is able to spot at least four different sized lamps and light fixtures placed around your entryway and living room.  There were warm white Christmas lights hung up along the ceiling, multiple green-leaved plants in different corners, and Eddie even thinks he spotted a black cat sprinting under your soft looking white sectional.
Overall, he’d give your interior design skills an 11/10. 
He’s just starting to miss you a little when you come out from your kitchen holding your flowers in a sparkly glass vase.  
It’s an odd feeling, seeing Eddie in your house.  His ‘edgier’ look seems like it wouldn’t fit with your overall aesthetic, but to your surprise he looks like he belongs here.  You walk up to him almost in a daze, admiring the silver hoop earrings he’s wearing, the smile on his lips, and the way some of his hair has made its way out of his low bun to frame his face.  
The two of you stand there for a moment looking at each other, with you holding your flowers in between your bodies.  You engage in a staring match for almost a second too long before you break the silence.
“No one’s ever gotten me flowers before,” you sheepishly admit, looking down at them instead of at him.  Eddie grins at the blush that blooms onto your cheeks after your prolonged eye contact.
Eddie scoffs before he can stop himself.
“Seriously?  That’s a damn shame, sweetheart.”
You look up at him again and try not to faint at how easily the word fell from his perfect lips.  Unable to take another second of his eyes on yours, you retreat into your living room to find the perfect place for your new flowers.  You decide to put them on your coffee table, then turn around to find that Eddie had followed you in.  
He offers his arm out to you, “Shall we?”
This time, you can’t fight the smile.
You take his arm and swipe your purse from the coat hanger next to your front door on your way out.
-
Eddie was the perfect gentleman for the entire duration of the car ride to IKEA.  He had opened the car door for you, he let you pick the music, and he definitely did not sneak a glimpse at your bare, voluminous thighs when your dress shifted as you sat down.  The sweet smell of your perfume spread throughout the interior of his truck, he hopes that smell never fades away.
He couldn’t help glancing over at you every other minute, looking so beautiful in his passenger seat while you bobbed your head to whatever song you had queued up on his phone. 
“Would it be a total invasion of privacy if I played your On Repeat playlist?  I’m dying to know what the music teacher’s favorite music is right now.”  Eddie turned to see that you were smiling pleadingly at him, and how could he say no to that face?
“I suppose,” Eddie sighs dramatically.  “But, you are not allowed to judge me for whatever pops up.”  He playfully points a finger at you while keeping his eyes on the road.  You giggle girlishly.
“I wouldn’t dream of it.”
You hit ‘shuffle’ on Eddie’s playlist and aren’t surprised when the first song that plays through the speakers is ‘The Unforgiven ll’ by Metallica.  You already knew Eddie was a fan of the band thanks to the music he always has playing a tad too loudly whenever you pass by his classroom.
“Oh, I know this song!”
Eddie’s face whips towards you sporting a shocked ‘you’ve gotta be kidding me’ expression.  He was definitely expecting you to be the ‘indie music’ type.  Your eyebrows furrow adorably angrily at the look on his face.  
“What?  A girl can’t like Metallica?” You fix him with a look that tells Eddie he should think twice about his response.
“W-well…I just didn’t expect you to be into them…that’s all.”  You roll your eyes playfully at him and cross your arms.  “But!  I’m very pleasantly surprised that you are!  Girls rule, alright?  Men like…totally suck and stuff.”
You chuckle at his frantic attempt at avoiding a lecture on gender inequality and feminism while settling back into your seat.  And because you actually do know and love this song, you start mouthing the words, which eventually evolves into singing them under your breath.
When Eddie thought he spotted you mouthing the words out of the corner of his eye, he was sure that his eyes were playing tricks on him.  But just barely hearing you singing the words to his favorite Metallica song just further confirmed a fact that he already knew.
Eddie Munson was totally going to fall in love with you.
The rest of the car ride consisted of sharing music, talking about work and life, childhood memories, and other random topics.  Eddie discovered that you love thunderstorms, your cat’s name is Pascal (after the chameleon from Tangled), and that you moved here at the beginning of summer from Chicago.
Eddie swears there’s never been a conversation in history that flowed as well as yours and his.  He felt like he’s known you for years, and he hopes you’re feeling the same way.
You totally are.
-
Once the two of you made it to IKEA and inside the giant store, Eddie quickly realized that he never really put any thought into what he actually wanted to buy for his classroom.  You swiftly came to his rescue and pulled out your phone to open up Pinterest.
Together, you found a couple pictures that matched the general vibe of Eddie’s classroom.  He grabbed a map of the store and a cart, and set off into the maze of furniture.  
You were back to being shy again, now that you were out in the wild with Eddie.  He found that making jokes about all of the funny names got you giggling, and so he didn’t miss an opportunity.
He made you laugh the hardest next to the Koppang drawers.
You bumped your shoulder into his around the Baggebo bookcases.
His hand brushed yours next to a Tornviken kitchen island. 
And Eddie finally worked up the courage to hold your hand next to a Klippan loveseat.
You gasped a little when you felt his warm hand slide into yours, interlocking your fingers together.  A red hot blush worked its way up your neck as you snuck a glance over at him, only to find that he was already looking at you with a smirk.  He knows exactly what this hand holding is doing to you.
He chuckles smugly as the two of you arrive at the lights section of the store.  As he pushes the cart through the aisles, you’re enamored by the twinkling lights that are draped overhead.  You’re lucky he’s holding your hand, or else you probably would’ve fallen flat on your face.  Eddie can’t help but to stare at you as you stare up at all the different light fixtures.  The different colors and hues of light shine beautifully onto your face, and the soft smile on your lips makes Eddie wish he could just grab you and kiss you right here in the aisle.  But, he figures that would cause you to explode after your reaction to his hand-holding.
He watches as you look further down the aisle at the lamps that are on display there, your face lighting up in recognition.
“Oh!  That’s one that I’ve got in my room!”  You point at an orange, donut shaped light called a Varmblixt.  Eddie recognizes it, you do indeed have one hanging on the wall behind your desk.
“I must have it,” Eddie says with a flourish ,”Never have I seen a more extraordinary donut lamp.”
You giggle and go to grab one to place in the cart, but the box proves to be way heavier than you remember.  Eddie notices as soon as you inhale to exert more effort, and he steps in immediately. 
 No fair maiden such as you should be forced to exert any effort whatsoever in his presence.
“I’ve got it, sweetheart.”
You try not to let the name affect you but once again, you fail.  You’re left blushing and biting your lip, speechless.  You stare unashamed at Eddie as he picks up the heavy box and goes to place it in the cart with ease.  The overhead lights were really doing him favors, every ridge and contour of his body was lit to perfection.  You could see the delicious bulge of his biceps, the ripple of his forearm muscles, and the outline of his chest in his shirt….why is your mouth watering?
Eddie easily places the box in the cart, turning to face you again.  He finds you blushing up at him with wide eyes, and is unable to contain the smug smirk on his face.  The sudden lack of distance between the two of you did not go unnoticed by him, he hoped you couldn’t hear his heart pounding in his chest.
The ‘normal you’ would’ve noticed that you were obviously in Eddie’s personal bubble, and you would’ve taken a step back like the respectable adult that you are.  But the ‘normal you’ was long gone in Eddie’s presence.  This version of you was not unlike the version that existed when you were an awkward teenager who was on the brink of passing out anytime a boy even breathed in your direction. 
While you were busy ogling Eddie’s physique, you’d failed to notice the close proximity between the two of you, which led you to your current situation.  
You and him were so close together, you could feel the warm puffs of air from between his parted lips gently hitting your face.  His gaze trailed down from your eyes to your lips, but you wouldn’t have noticed anyways because you were one step ahead of him.
His lips looked so pillowy and soft, you wondered how they’d feel pressed against yours.  Would he kiss you slowly, gently holding your face in his big hands and brushing his thumbs along the apples of your cheeks?  Or would he be rougher than that, grabbing you by the waist and tugging you into him, kissing you with fire and passion?
Eddie’s eyebrows furrow as he watches you suck your bottom lip into your mouth to bite it.  You’re so goddamn beautiful, and you looked like an angel in this aisle of lights.  A lamp from behind you lights up the silhouette of your hair like a halo, and he can see the lights above his head reflected in your eyes like stars.  
Eddie knows he shouldn’t kiss you right now, not in the middle of IKEA where he can hear kids whining to their parents and couples arguing over which shade of beige would match their living room better.  He knows this, but he can’t stop himself from reaching his hand up to gently grasp your jaw.  His thumb slides from your chin to your bottom lip, tugging it free from your teeth.
His hand snakes down to the side of your neck, and you can feel the slight tremor in his hand.  You’re glad that the situation is affecting him too, because you are freaking out.  
Is he going to kiss you right now?  
In IKEA?
On your first date? 
Is this even a date?  
Do you even want him to kiss you?  Idiot, of course you want him to.
Eddie’s eyebrows lift slightly, almost questioning you.  Asking you, ‘Do you want this? Is this okay?’
You answer him with a soft smile, and you feel his hand move behind your neck to pull you in.
It is at this moment that a baby starts to wail one aisle over, effectively ruining any sort of moment you and Eddie had been sharing.
He lets out a frustrated huff, and touches his forehead to yours with closed eyes.  
“Of course,” he groans.
You’re secretly giddy at the fact that he so obviously wanted to kiss you badly.  You bring your hand up to his arm that’s still resting on your neck to give it a reassuring squeeze, and in a surprising burst of confidence, you rise up on your toes to peck him on the cheek.
Eddie’s eyes shoot open at the feeling of your soft lips on his cheek.  He pulls back to stare down at you as his face turns red.
You giggle at him, then turn around to walk down the aisle.
“C’mon, I think I saw another one of my lamps down this way!”
Eddie snaps himself out of his daze with a shake of his head, he’s sure that he’s got hearts in his eyes as he watches you walk away from him.  Grabbing the cart with one hand, he holds his other gently to his cheek, touching the spot that’s still warm from your lips.
-
Eddie ends up purchasing five lamps from IKEA after an hour and a half of wandering through the aisles with you.  
He can’t help but to act like the loverboy he is when he’s looking at furniture with you.  He fantasizes about a life with you, imagining that the two of you are actually here to pick out items to furnish your shared house.  
He wonders which kind of wood floors you’d pick out and which backsplash you’d want in the kitchen.  You’d probably want to decorate with colorful rugs and throw pillows, and Eddie wouldn’t complain.  Not as long as you’re happy.   He’d live in a pink house decorated with bows and lace trim as long as he was living in it with you.  
Maybe he’s getting ahead of himself, it’s only your first date together right?
If only he knew you were having similar thoughts as you strolled up and down the aisles, hand in hand.  You thought about what kind of decorating he did in his house, you figured it was styled in some way considering the amount of effort he puts into making his classroom look as cool as it does.  Does he have shelves full of records or different posters framed and hung up on his wall?  Which side of the bed does he sleep on?  You hope he likes plants, there’s no way you could part with your beloved greenery if the two of you were to live together.
You’re quick to silence the random thoughts buzzing around in your head, it’s silly to think about these things on your very first date…you don’t even know his middle name yet!
You and Eddie both seem to snap out of your stupors at the same time, sighing simultaneously.  You both turn to look at each other and then begin to laugh, unsure on whether or not the ‘jinx’ rules apply in a sighing situation.  
-
Eddie pays for the lights, and soon enough you’re both back in his truck.  
It dawns on you that your date is almost over, but you’re quickly redirected when you hear the starting notes to the next song that starts playing when Eddie’s phone connects to his radio.
Is that…Taylor Swift?
You turn to him slowly, confused at why a Taylor Swift song is on his ‘On Repeat’ Spotify playlist.
Eddie’s already staring at you mortified.  He holds a hand up, pausing any words that might’ve come out of your mouth.
“Before you say anything,” he begins ,”I really admire her lyricism.  Girl’s a wizard with words.”
The two of you sit in a charged silence for a moment before you can’t hold in your reaction any longer.  A laugh breaks free from your chest, and Eddie can’t  help but to laugh along with you.
You’re wiping tears from your eyes as your laughter dies down, and Eddie just grins at you.
“I can’t believe it.  The rock and roll music teacher listens to enough Taylor Swift for it to end up on his ‘On Repeat’ playlist.”  You shake your head at him with a wide smile on your face that Eddie wants to take a picture of and frame.  
“Yeah, yeah…laugh it up.  As a music teacher, it’s my duty to appreciate all types of music.”
You nod along to his explanation, “Yes, of course.  How else are you supposed to connect with the teenage girls these days?”
“Right! Yes!”  Eddie exclaims.  “I do this lesson on lyrics and Taylor’s music is a great example of what storytelling in music can look like.  I respect her, hard.”
You stifle another laugh at his emotional Taylor Swift themed outburst.
“This stays between you and I alright?” Eddie points a finger at you playfully.  “If Harrington gets word of this I’ll never live it down.”
“Of course, my lips are sealed.”  You mime zipping your lips shut and throwing away the key.
Eddie settles back into his seat with a huff, boyishly smiling over at you.
“I have a very important question for you Eddie.”
He leans in, intrigued by your seriousness. 
“Which era are you in right now?”
Eddie scoffs, throwing his head back with a groan.  This sends you into another laughing fit, Eddie can’t help but to join in again.  He’s coming to find out that your joy is such an infectious thing.
“Hmm let’s see…,” he muses.  He turns to look at you with one hand on the wheel and a smirk on his face as he puts his keys in the ignition.  
“Right now…I’d have to go with ‘Lover,’” he says with a wink.
Your laughter is cut off abruptly as you gasp and bite your lip, attempting to subdue the cheesy grin that’s surely made its way onto your face by now.  
You stare unashamed as Eddie puts his right hand over the back of your seat to turn around and look through the rear window as he reverses the car out of its parking spot.  You can smell the cologne he must’ve sprayed on this morning, which immediately awakens the butterflies in your stomach.
As soon as Eddie is set on the route back to your house, he holds out his hand expectantly over his center console.  You look at it, then at him, then back at his hand before shyly placing your hand in his.  He’s quick to lace his fingers through yours, holding on tight and running his thumb back and forth.
You’re both thinking that you could get used to this.
-
Eddie (reluctantly) only lets go of your hand in order to rush around the front of his truck to open your car door for you after he’s pulled into your driveway.  He’s quiet as he walks you to your front door, wondering which way is the best way to ask you out on another date.  
You stop when you reach your door, looking down at your hand in his.  The silence begins to feel just a tad awkward as you both search for something to fill it.
“Thank you,” you start quietly ,”for today.  I had a wonderful time.”
Eddie lets out a relieved breath and grins widely down at you.
“I did too,” he begins, readying himself for his next question.  “Would you…I mean–would you like to…uh…shit, would you want to maybe do it again sometime?”
You know what he means, but it’s still so tempting to tease him when he’s blushing like this.
“Would I want to go to IKEA with you again?”
“N-no!  I mean, if you wanted to we could I guess…b-but I was thinking something more along the lines of dinner?”
You find it adorable how nervous he is to ask you out on a second date, as if you wouldn’t agree to go out to dinner with him tonight.
“I’d love that.”
Eddie’s face lights up with a triumphant smile as he lets out the anxious breath he’d been holding in.  
“Good, that’s really good.”  The way you’re smiling up at him right now is causing him to lose his train of thought.  “Um…how’s tomorrow night?  Around 7?”
“Tomorrow night is perfect.”
“Awesome.  Great, yeah I’ll just…I’ll pick you up, okay?”
You’re beaming as you nod your head, much too ecstatic at the idea of going out with Eddie again to form a coherent sentence.
Eddie finds himself smiling and nodding with you, you’re just too adorable. 
“Hey could I uh…c-could I get your number?” Eddie stammers the question out like he’s a prepubescent teenager, mentally face palming the whole time.
He’s relieved when you chuckle and hold your hand out for him to place his phone in.  He fumbles around trying to give you his phone as quickly as possible, he can’t believe how nervous he feels right now. 
He finally somehow manages to pass over his phone with a new contact page pulled up and ready for you.  You type in your number and name, making sure to add the artist’s palette emoji afterwards.  Eddie laughs through his nose when he sees it, then pockets his phone again.  
There’s a weird tension in the air that can only be brought upon by two people who so obviously want to kiss each other, but are too nervous to make the first move.  Eddie wracks his brain for a way to ask you if it’d be okay for him to kiss you without looking like a total idiot.  It’s really unfortunate that the way you bite your lip causes his mind to completely shut off and switch to autopilot.  
“I really wanna kiss you right now,” he blurts out.
You look up at him, shocked at his bluntness.  Eddie’s even more shocked than you are.
“Y-you probably should then,” you bashfully admit.
Eddie can’t believe that worked.
He steps towards you and softly places one hand on your cheek, the other going to gently grasp the side of your neck similarly to the way he had in IKEA during your almost-kiss.
Your eyes flutter closed as you feel his lips graze yours for the first time.  The feeling is electrifying, and you can’t help but to venture forward for more.  
Your lips were just as soft, if not softer, than Eddie imagined. 
You plunge forward to press your lips against his, instantly deepening the kiss.  Eddie found himself instantly addicted to the feel of your lips and the way you sigh into the kiss.  It’s a shy kiss at first, where the two of you slowly begin to figure out your shared rhythm.  But it wasn’t long before you sank into a synchronized dance, mirroring each other’s movements in a way that crafted the most perfect, earth shattering first kiss.  
You let Eddie Munson kiss you at your front door in a way that you had longed to be kissed for your entire life.  This was how the women you saw in movies or read about in books were kissed.  You’d read about magic and sparks flying, and you think you’re finally starting to believe in all of it.  
Eddie moves his hand from your cheek to your waist, gripping it and pulling you closer to him.  The gasp you let out gave him the sweet opportunity to run his tongue against your bottom lip, asking, pleading for an entrance which you of course granted.  You tasted like autumn and felt like home, he decided he could kiss you for hours on end.
You both stood there for a good five minutes at your front door, making out like giddy teenagers and feeling like them too.  Eddie finally pulls away from your lips, pleased to find you subtly chasing his mouth with your own.  You open your eyes and come out of your kiss-induced haze to find him smiling adoringly down at you with both hands now circling your waist.  
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he whispers, leaning in to kiss you once more. 
“Actually, I’m gonna call you tonight.”  He kisses you again.  “Is that okay?”  Another peck.
You're giggling as he places a final kiss on your forehead, “Yes, please.”
“Good.”
Eddie steps back, grabbing your hand to kiss it like he did on Tuesday.  He pulls you back in with that same hand to plant one last kiss on your lips, then jogs back to his truck.  He waves and quickly honks his horn twice as he pulls away.  
You’re left standing at your front door, watching his truck disappear down your street and reliving every moment of your first kiss with Eddie Munson.
When you finally make your way inside, you make sure to smell your brand new beautiful flowers before scurrying off to your bedroom to pick out an outfit for your second date with Eddie tomorrow night.  
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TAGLIST:
@josephquinnsfreckles @the-fairy-anon @anukulee @littlebebebunny @meetmeatyourworst @lalalala-melmosworld @someantics @lokis-army-77 @loserboysandlithium @strangerstilinski @mystra-midnight @lesservillain @queenimmadolla @luveline @munson-blurbs @fairyysoup @urhoneycombwitch @oneforthemunny @rebelfell @taintedcigs @wroteclassicaly @eiightysixbaby @bettyfrommars @loveshotzz @lovebugism @carolmunson @rustedhearts @lonelysatellites
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nowoyas · 19 days
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Trying to make sense of the Nanowrimo statement to the best of my abilities and fuck, man. It's hard.
It's hard because it seems to me that, first and foremost, the organization itself has forgotten the fucking point.
Nanowrimo was never about the words themselves. It was never about having fifty thousand marketable words to sell to publishing companies and then to the masses. It was a challenge, and it was hard, and it is hard, and it's supposed to be. The point is that it's hard. It's hard to sit down and carve out time and create a world and create characters and turn these things into a coherent plot with themes and emotional impact and an ending that's satisfying. It's hard to go back and make changes and edit those into something likable, something that feels worth reading. It's hard to find a beautifully-written scene in your document and have to make the decision that it's beautiful but it doesn't work in the broader context. It's fucking hard.
Writing and editing are skills. You build them and you hone them. Writing the way the challenge initially encouraged--don't listen to that voice in your head that's nitpicking every word on the page, put off the criticism for a later date, for now just let go and get your thoughts out--is even a different skill from writing in general. Some people don't particularly care about refining that skill to some end goal or another, and simply want to play. Some people sit down and try to improve and improve and improve because that is meaningful to them. Some are in a weird in-between where they don't really know what they want, and some have always liked the idea of writing and wanted a place to start. The challenge was a good place for this--sit down, put your butt in a chair, open a blank document, and by the end of the month, try to put fifty thousand words in that document.
How does it make you feel to try? Your wrists ache and you don't feel like any of the words were any good, but didn't you learn something about the process? Re-reading it, don't you think it sounds better if you swap these two sentences, if you replace this word, if you take out this comma? Maybe you didn't hit 50k words. Maybe you only wrote 10k. But isn't it cool, that you wrote ten thousand words? Doesn't it feel nice that you did something? We can try again. We can keep getting better, or just throwing ourselves into it for fun or whatever, and we can do it again and again.
I guess I don't completely know where I'm going with this post. If you've followed me or many tumblr users for any amount of time, you've probably already heard a thousand times about how generative AI hurts the environment so many of us have been so desperately trying to save, about how generative AI is again and again used to exploit big authors, little authors, up-and-coming authors, first time authors, people posting on Ao3 as a hobby, people self-publishing e-books on Amazon, traditionally published authors, and everyone in between. You've probably seen the statements from developers of these "tools", things like how being required to obtain permission for everything in the database used to train the language model would destroy the tool entirely. You've seen posts about new AI tools scraping Ao3 so they can make money off someone else's hobby and putting the legality of the site itself at risk. For an organization that used to dedicate itself to making writing more accessible for people and for creating a community of writers, Nanowrimo has spent the past several years systematically cracking that community to bits, and now, it's made an official statement claiming that the exploitation of writers in its community is okay, because otherwise, someone might find it too hard to complete a challenge that's meant to be hard to begin with.
I couldn't thank Nanowrimo enough for what it did for me when I started out. I don't know how to find community in the same way. But you can bet that I've deleted my account, and I'll be finding my own path forward without it. Thanks for the fucking memories, I guess.
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matryosika · 2 years
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Hyung Line: Love Languages and Sex
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Wordcount: 5,467 words.
Genre: Smut, partly head canons and scenarios.
Includes: SKZ Hyung Line members, female reader, brief discussion about food in Minho's scenario, curse words and dirty dialogues. Smut warnings below.
Author's note: Long time no see! I just randomly thought about this yesterday, and I had a couple of scenario/drabbles I wanted to write about regarding this topic so here they are. I thought about uploading them individually, but I don't know. I'm currently working in the second part of this, so yeah. Thought I would just put this out there for now. I hope you guys like it! Please remember that english isn't my first language and this is not proof-read so I apologize for any mistake in advance.
If you like this, please consider supporting me by reblogging, leaving a comment or sending me an ask. If you wish to support my work further, please consider buying me a coffee! ☕
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Smut warnings (varies from scenario to scenario): Masturbation (f. receiving), overstimulation, multiple orgasms, squirting, praises, use of petnames, established relationship, foot massage (for Minho's part), public sex (for Changbin's scenario), body cumshot (for Hyunjin's scenario), vaginal penetrative sex, unprotected sex, implied creampie (for Changbin's scenario).
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Chan: Acts of Service and Words of Affirmation
“One more?”
When you told Chan you were feeling stressed, you didn't exactly expect him to try and cheer you up like this —face buried in your sweet, throbbing cunt, and hands intertwined with yours. You have been going at it for hours on end, with no signs of Chan ever wanting to stop —not even after your third orgasm.
“Channie…” You want to tell him it's his turn, that you also want to make him feel good. That you need to help him releasing the tension between his legs, make him come just as much as he has made you tonight.
But you can’t even begin to deliver a coherent sentence, or at least not when his nose is applying the perfect amount of pressure to your clit while his tongue laps messily on your slit, his spit and your own wetness creating a sticky, awkward sensation that reminds you of all the time Chan had spent working on your cunt in the past hour or two.
“Mhm?” He knows you’re too fucked out you can’t even speak, but the devilish grin plastered on his face tells you that he wants to listen to you. Or at least your babbles. “What is it, baby?”
“Chan,” you latch your hands onto his dark locks, pulling them harshly and earning a hiss from him. “Chan, please!”
You don't have to tell him exactly what you want for him to know. The way you grind your hips against his face sells you out —Chan knows you need more than just his mouth, and he is more than happy to comply.
If you ask for it, of course.
“Greedy,” he laughs under his breath, a string of saliva connecting his lips to your cunt. “Come one more time for me, and I’ll consider giving you what you want”.
A fair exchange, you think. But when the ravages of over-stimulation start hitting you painfully than before, you highly doubt you can fulfill his plea.
“I can’t,” you gasp with shortness of breath, hands leaving Chan’s to clinge at the bedsheets underneath you. “Chan, fuck, wait!”
The last thing you want is for Chan to stop, but the words fall from your lips faster than you can process them. So he withdraws from your pussy and stares at you with half-lidded eyes, swollen lips and chin glistening with your arousal.
“No! Don’t- don’t stop, I’m sorry”.
You’re not making any sense, and he loves it.
“Am I hurting you?”
You shake your head eagerly, swallowing hard while you take advantage of the break to take a breath. “No, it’s just- I’m- I want to please you”.
Chan smiles.
“I have to take care of you first,” he mumbles, lips attached to flesh of your inner thighs. “Want to make you come enough until your mind is completely empty”.
“But I-”
“Tonight isn’t about me, okay?” he drags his words lazily, humming and slightly whimpering them when he rubs his nose yet again against your clit. “I need to make sure you’re not feeling stressed anymore”.
You plop down onto the bed again, hands gripping his curls while unconsciously bringing him closer to your core.
“See, I know you can come one more time,” Chan whispers against your pussy, two of his fingers spreading your folds while he coats them with your previous arousal, “you’re always good to me like that”.
You buck your hips when he unexpectedly thrusts his middle and ring finger inside you, walls welcoming and clenching around them so tightly Chan almosts come right in his pants.
“3 orgasms are not enough for someone like you, hm?” he fucks you delicately, enjoying the wet sounds your cunt makes every time he sinks his fingers inside you, “you still want more”.
You cover your face in shyness, only letting out small whimpers and moans every time he curls his fingers.
“Don’t,” his available hand, which he has underneath your right thigh and the curve of your ass, reaches out to pull both your arms, causing you to uncover your face, “I want to see you when I’m talking to you”.
He grabs both your wrists with his available hand, while the other works wonders on your cunt. From where you lay, the sight is heavenly —you can catch a glimpse of his flexed shoulders and back, along with his bare face and messy, dark curls. You could reach your fourth orgasm just by that alone, but Chan has other plans in mind.
“You’re so sweet,” he’s practically groaning his words, licking remains of your orgasms from his lips, “I don’t ever want to go a day without tasting you, ever”.
You moan at his words, heart racing faster than it was before. He has always had a way with words —ever since you two met, he has always known exactly what to say to have you at his feet, mercilessly.
“Channie,” you cry out loud, head falling back as your back arches in pleasure. “Chan!”
“Come on,” he drags his swollen lips against your hip bone and the side of your tummy, inhaling deeply the scent of your skin while the room is filled with wet, lewd noises, “I can feel you’re close, I know you can take one more”.
There’s no point in trying to hold back, so you start letting yourself go.
“All day I’ve been thinking about your sweet cunt,” the more he talks, the rougher he fucks you with his fingers and the closer you get to your release, “you’re all I fucking need. I don’t want anything else but you”.
You melt with love, tears threating to spill from the corners of your eyes. There’s something enticing about the contrast between his words and his touch, how he can say the sweetest, purest and loving things while his fingers keep on fucking your pussy with no tenderness, exactly how you like it.
“I just want to show you off to everyone,” Chan continues, feeling the wetness around his fingers starting to increase, word by word. “Want to tell everyone how pretty you look like this, how proud I am to have you with me”.
“F-fuck,” you’re coming, he can tell. The way your eyes are rolling to the back of your head, and your hips spasm against his hand sells you out.
“That’s it,” he moans, the raspiness of his voice sending shivers down your spine. “Give it to me, I know you can”.
He continues fucking your cunt through your orgasm, not daring to stop even when drops of your arousal wet his hand and bed.
“Stay still, baby,” with his available arm, he holds you down and pins you against the bed, preventing you from closing your legs or get away from his touch, “make a mess, I want to lick it clean”.
Minho: Acts of Service and Physical Touch
Minho is naturally a giver.
Sure, he does love being on the receiving end from time to time, but really nothing gratifies him more than taking care of you, in every way you should be taken care of.
Whether it’s taking a chore off your hands when you’re exhausted, running an errand to save you time on a busy day, or picking up take out and medicine when you’re feeling down, one of Minho’s ways to show you love it’s by performing acts of services.
Hence that, you’re not surprised to come home tonight with a full home-cooked dinner, with dessert and all.
“Hope you’re starving,” your boyfriend welcomes you, still wearing an apron on top of his work outfit. Black, formal pants and a white shirt with rolled sleeves, “It’s your favorite, by the way”. 
Earlier today, he called you to ask you for a quick grocery shopping list, in case you had some things missing from your fridge. Apparently, he was going to be released early from work, so he had some spare time before meeting you at your place and he could stop by for the things you needed..
“My head is all over the place,” you admitted, hands brushing through your hair in frustration, “I’m sorry Min, I completely forgot to leave the grocery list you told me. And I’m not even sure what’s missing- probably the whole fucking fridge is empty”.
He could tell how busy and exhausted you had been over the past few weeks, so he came up with a plan.
“I can come to your place and do the list myself,” he proposed by the phone. “Then I’ll go to the supermarket and pick the food and stuff you need, yeah? I’ll return to your place at night, and we can unwind together. Is that okay?”
You thanked him, probably a million times, before hanging up and going through with your day.
When he sits at the table with you, you finally get a taste of the dish. As expected, is more than just delicious. It’s a whole fucking experience, especially because it was made just for you.
You two eat together and help each other cleaning the kitchen afterwards. When you're done, with a comfy outfit and while having another glass of red wine, Minho suggests he does a massage on you because you look tense.
“What a nice, elegant sex proposal,” you laugh, extending your legs on top of his while you are sitting in the couch.
“I never said anything about sex,” Minho tiltes his head, the tip of his digits grazing against your skin. “So who’s proposing that to who?”
“You know, I could use a massage,” you leave the glass of wine on top of the coffee table, and let your body slowly slide into the couch. “I’m not sure about the sex part. I don’t know if I could ride you with how fucking sore my legs are, but I can make it up to you during the weekend”.
Minho laughs, a genuine, heart-warming laugh.
“We don’t have to fuck tonight,” his hands and digits trail an immaginary path from your feet, to your ankles, to your knees and inner thighs. The touch is enough to get you wet, and you curse him mentally for that, “but I still want to make you come, at least once”.   
Sometimes, you really can't begin to comprehend how Minho is all that. Attractive, smart, hard-working and just… perfect in every aspect, including sex.
“I’m so embarrassed,” you admit, moaning softly when his hands start working on the soles of your feet. It’s certainly not a massage massage, but rather a compilation of soft and lustful touches, “I really want to make things up to you but I’m a mess right now, there’s a lot going on at work and-”
“Hey,” he interrupts you, caressing the sides of your feet while working on them. “I’m not complaining nor asking for anything in return, am I?”
He isn’t.
And he is also not the type to expect some sort of payment for a favor.
Minho loves like that¸ without expecting absolutely nothing in return except for your satisfacion.
“But-”
“Am I?”
“No,” you softly reply, more as a whimper than an actual response. He is still massaging your feet and ankles, slowly growing harder at the series of moans and hisses you’re letting out.
“Why don’t you tell me where you keep your vibrator?” You love how it’s a casual question, how you no longer grow timid when he asks stuff like that. You are a couple, and he knows way more about you and your private life than anyone else. “Let’s put it to use tonight, hm?”
“Nightstand, second drawer,” you immediately sigh, losing the warmth of his body when he stands up from the couch to go to said location —the nightstand, second drawer.
He comes back not even 2 minutes later, holding the hot pink item to his hand. He sits right next to you, inviting you to spread your legs for him while he pushes your underwear and pijama shorts to the side.
A proud smile peeps out of the corners of his lips, knowing he did absolutely nothing but you’re still dripping wet, underwear and clothes sticking to your folds.
“You weren’t sure about the sex part?” he hums in content, caressing your slit with the tip of the toy. “Honey, you’re body is begging for me to fuck it”.
You arch your back unexpectedly when he turns on the toy, digging it further against your clit. He motions for you to take care of the toy, guiding your wrist to it in order to have both of his hands free and available to caress you, grope you and kiss you as he pleases.
“It’s really good,” you moan, masturbating for him while his hands reach out to your breasts, massaging them and pinching your nipples. “It’s not as good as your cock, but it does the task. I should get a better toy”.
Minho laughs against your skin, tongue latched to one of your hardened buds. His right hand wanders along the side of your body, caressing your waist, hips and thighs as much as he wants.
“You know nothing compares to me,” Minho whimpers against your skin, his hips grinding ever so slightly against your spread thighs. “But it’s cute that you’re still willing to try and find something that could compete against me”.
You bury your right hand onto his dark hair, pulling him closer to you, if possible, while your left hand holds the wand against your cunt.
The more he touches you and kisses you, the closer you get to your orgasm. And pathetically close, at that, since you’ve only been doing this for roughly 3 minutes.
“You have no idea how much I’ve missed your body these days,” Minho groans, peppering kisses on your chest and neck while his hand sneaks between your ass and the couch. He squeezes and gropes it harshly, making you move your hips a bit up to give him better access. “Just want to cover it all with my kisses, lick it and touch it how you like it”.
Minho buries his face on your neck, and starts kissing your skin sloppily while his right hand is still groping your body. He doesn’t care about being messy —in fact, that’s exactly what he is going for tonight.
“Don’t stop,” you babble, grinding your hips against the toy while Minho’s lips and hands are all over you. “Don’t stop, Min, please, don’t-”
When you’re just a second away from your arousal, Minho places his hand on top of yours and presses the vibrator against your clit more, forcing you to orgasm faster. “Don’t worry,” he groans near your ear, face still buried in the crook of your neck, “I won’t stop until you’re satisfied”.
Changbin: Words of Affirmation and Gifts
“What do you think?”
Changbin has to take a full minute in order to arrange his own thoughts. If he had to say what he actually thinks of that dress, he would earn a couple of disgusted faces from the rest of the people at the boutique.
“Good,” it’s all he manages to say, slyly leaning forward to hide his bulge, “let me pay for it and let’s go home”.
“I’m still not done, though,” there’s a bunch of clothes you wish to try, and you know that doesn’t impatient Changbin –he is a great shopping partner. But judged by his lustful gaze, you think he has changed his plans, “I’ll be quick, I promise”.
He isn’t mad, nor wants to rush you, but Changbin wonders how long it’s going to take for him to lose his sanity before he gets to fuck you in the very same dress you just tried on. It hugs your body just right, allowing you to show just the right amount of skin to drive him crazy.
“Shit, I don’t know about this one,” you murmur from inside, just a long curtain separating you from Changbin, who is currently sitting at a small couch placed strategically in front of the fitting rooms, “I don’t think this is my size”.
Before he could ponder the situation, the pros and cons of demanding a small, modeling catwalk from you, he asks you to show the dress to him.
“It’s too tight,” you complain, struggling to zip it up, “one wrong move and I- I’m going to flash everyone in here”.
“Let me see it,” he asks again, impatiently looking forward to watching the curtain slide back, revealing you.
“I don’t- I look weird,” the dress is not your style, nor it’s something you would wear out on any occasion. You thought it would be fun to try it on, see if you could get out of your comfort zone, but it escalated too quick. “It’s too much, it barely covers anything”.
It’s not intentional, but you’re practically edging Changbin with your words. The longer you drag it out, the whiner he gets.
“Alright, alright,” you finally exhale, your hand pushing the curtain separating you from his gaze out of the way, “but don’t fucking say anything”.
Even if he wanted to say something, he can’t even speak. His throat is dry, aching just as much as the throbbing pressure between his legs that demands for his whole attention.
After some excruciating, awkward moments in silence, you speak again.
“Okay, say something,” the lack of words from him is making you feel unsteady, because he is just staring right at you quietly. You can’t possibly now what’s going on in his mind. “I told you it doesn’t fit and it is too damn expensive, and the fabric is -”.
“Get that one too,” it’s not a question, nor an advice –it’s an order.
“It’s too exp-”
“I don’t care,” the pent up tension is making it seem as if he’s angry, but you know he isn’t –he is just too damn horny, and needy, and desperate to get home and fuck you in every position possible.
“Alright,” you nod, feeling your heart skipping a beat when Changbin’s intimidating gaze falls up on you, basically begging for you to be done. “I’ll just… take it off and we can- go home, yeah?”
You go back to the fitting room with a wet sensation between your legs, feeling your folds sticking to your underwear while you relentlessly try to take the dress off. It had been hard to put it on, but you underestimated how difficult it was going to be to take it off on your own.
“Bin?” you ask, “is someone there who… could help me?”
Changbin looks around, but there’s no one other than him. Not even the lady who manages the changing room and checks which clothes people are trying on is there.
“There’s no one here,” the dark-haired replies, standing from the couch with more confidence now that he knows no one can spot the bulge in his pants, “what do you need?”
You shyly push the curtains to the side yet again, revealing the now messy dress after your failed attempt to take it off. “Can you help me?”
You turn around, putting the back zipper on display for him. It’s rather an easy task, he just needs to pull it down.
But how easy can it be when all he can pay attention to is your ass, and how good it looks underneath that tight dress? The clothes are so tight he can catch a glimpse of the silhouette of your underwear, buried in the flesh of your arse.
“Please?”
He doesn’t helps you unziping it and, instead, pushes you inside the fitting room again, closing the curtain behind him as he is sure the area is completely empty, except for the two of you.
“I can’t,” he breathes, turning you around so that your hands lay on his chest. “I don’t want you to take it off”.
“I have to if you want to buy it for me, silly,” you’re teasing him, acting oblivious to his sudden reaction. “Quick, don’t want anyone to catch us together in here”.
“I want to fuck you while you’re wearing it,” he confesses, his lips so close to yours you can actually feel his breath caressing your chin. “I want to fuck you right here, so you can see how pretty you look”.
You would be lying if you said you’re not turned on, not even in the slightest. But your hardened nipples and wet underwear speak louder than you can.
“Please,” he begs, hands moving slowly from your waist to your ass, groping it while pulling you closer to him. “Please let me fuck you”.
The more he pulls you towards him, the more you can feel his throbbing, hard cock against your body. You are probably going to regret your decision, but you still give in.
You need him more than he does.
“If someone catches us…”
“They won’t,” Changbin groans, lifting your dress up with one hand while the other unbuckles his pants with a swift motion, “just keep your pretty mouth shut and I’ll take care of the rest, yeah?”
It seems like he isn't asking for a lot, but he is. How can you possibly keep your mouth shut when his raw cock is about to stretch your pussy?
He turns you around, your palms resting on the wall for support while his nimble hands place you in the perfect position for him: back arched, ass up and legs open. Really, how can you possibly keep your mouth shut when the tip of his thick cock slides against your slit?
He knows time is running out, so he doesn’t waste it –he sinks his hips against yours delicately, only to pick up the pace when he feels you getting used to his cock.
“You drive me fucking insane,” he groans against your shoulders, leaving wet, sloppy pecks that soon turn into love bites. “You’re just- too pretty- can’t keep my hands off of you”.
You moan at his words, sounds that are quickly muffled by one of his hands against your mouth.
“So- fucking beautiful,” his words come out choppy, but he manages to keep the volume of his voice down, unlike you. “You're just too good to be real and mine”.
The sound of your muffled whines, Changbin’s soft groans, skin hitting skin and the wetness of your cunt around his cock is what fills the whole fitting room. You’re wondering if someone can hear you two, but you really don’t care anymore.
 “You’re so tight,” he can’t get himself to stop. The urge to praise you and compliment you is the exactly the same as coming inside you, he is really desperate for both and judged by the way you squeeze his dick everytime he speaks, he knows you like it too. “Perfectly made for my cock”.
The rougher he pounds himself inside you, the more you lose balance and control of your own body. Your cheek is against the wall, your weak arms barely doing anything to support your body, but his grip around you is what keeps you stable.
“I’m going to fill you up, yeah?” he is not that far from his arousal, and neither are you. “I want to show you how much I love you”.
You nod eagerly against his palm, drooling all over it. One of your hands leave the wall to rub your clit, the new stimulation provided pushing you to the edge.
“Come with me, pretty,” he pants, barely speaking with shortness of breath. “Give it to me, let me know how much you love the way I fuck you”. 
His words have never failed to make you lose it. Not even once.
Hyunjin: Physical Touch and Gifts
You’re his muse.
You have been since the day he met you, since the very first time he laid his eyes on you.
Whether it’s for a poem, a drawing, a painting or a sculpture, you’re exactly where he finds his inspiration at. Hyunjin would rather die than looking at someone else, would rather stop making art before immortalizing another body that isn’t yours.
And besides being his muse, you’re also his lover. His partner, his accomplice, his everything. He trusts you more than he trusts himself, cares about you more than anything else. He wants to share all of himself with you, from his anger and sadness to the things he can’t say out loud, his filthy desires that he knows only you understand.
To be honest, you share a lot of the same. Especially your preferences, like and dislikes.
“Isn’t it pretty?”
A set of laced lingerie, your favorite color.
“What’s the occasion?” you ask him perplexed, carefully folding the wrap around it.
“Saw it on my way back to your apartment,” he is standing right in front of you, smiling softly at your excitement. “I thought you were going to like it, so I just couldn’t not buy it for you. It’s too pretty for you not to have it”.
Hyunjin is like that, always.
If he sees something he thinks you’d like, or if there’s something he wants you to have, he buys it and gives it to you as a gift. There doesn’t need to be a special occasion for Hyunjin to shower you with gifts —whether it’s a painting of yourself, a small hand-made bracelet, a new coffee mug or a whole expensive set of lingerie, Hyunjin always makes sure to get to your apartment with his hands full.
“I love it,” you reassure him, your fingertips tracing the lace of the underwear. “I’m going to try it on for you”.
He smiles widely, his eyes turning into crescent moons when his muse promises such a thing —he’ll get to see it on you, on your naked skin that always tempts him into touching it.
You come back faster than he expected you, only wearing the set of lingerie and nothing more.
“Oh,” it’s all he manages to say, his body freezing in its place.
“It looks good, hm?”
Hyunjin makes a mental note to go back to that place and buy all sets of lingerie available just to gift them to you, as soon as possible.
“You’re a fucking goddess”.
His compliment gets you shy, but you still walk towards him as he is sitting on the edge of your bed. Right next to him you spot some of his arts supplies –a sketch notebook and some other utensils.
“You want to draw me?” you ask him with a smile and the warmest tone of voice. Like pure honey and sugar.
“I wanted to,” Hyunjin murmured, looking up to you, “but I’ve changed my mind”.
“Why so?”
The position you two are at is perfect for Hyunjin to embrace your body –you’re standing right in front of him, between his spread legs. His mouth is at the level of your torso, and his hands can explore your whole body easily.
“I just want to admire you,” he sighed, leaving a single, quick kiss on your tummy. “Kiss you and touch you, remind myself that you’re all mine”.
You giggle softly while latching his fingers to his hair, something that earns you a subtle moan from him.
“You know I’m yours,” you sigh when his mouth and tongue becomes bold, licking and nibbling at your flesh while his hands caress the sides of your body, “don’t need to remind yourself something you already know”.
“Sometimes I can’t believe it,” Hyunjin whispers, grazing his plump lips against the lace fabric of your underwear, “that you belong to me”.
You arch your back slightly when his tongue licks a trail from your pubis towards your chest, the trace of his saliva looking better than any texture or color Hyunjin could paint, ever.
“I do,” every time it gets harder to hold your sighs and moans, his skilled mouth making you feel impatient for his touch, even when he is all over you. “I belong to you. I’ve been yours ever since the day I met you”.
He inhales deeply the scent of your skin, the way the tip of his nose brushes against you sending shivers down your spine.
“Let me mark you,” Hyunjin whispers, doe eyes staring up, right at you. “Don’t need that sketchbook when I have your body like this”.
He guides his lips to the side of your hips, nibbling at the skin and sucking somewhat harshly, only stopping to soothe the skin with soft kisses and kitten licks.
“You’re going to cover me all in love bites?”
“If you allow me to,” Hyunjin smiles, admiring the print of his teeth against your skin. “I want everyone to know you’re all mine, in every way possible”.
He guides his hands from your ass to your lower back as he stands up, pressing his body against yours.
“I want you to fuck me,” you whisper, hooking your arms against his neck. Your touch makes him shiver, but he conceals it well. “Please?”
You don’t have to tell him twice before he is already laying with you on his bed, taking his clothes off on the way.
“Can you leave this on?” he asks you when you’re about to unhook the top part of the underwear. The idea of getting to fuck you in something he gifted you is riling him up, so he prays for you to agree. “Want to come all over it, so everytime you wear it you can remember me”.
You just smile and nod, impatient to feel him deep inside you.
“You’re so warm,” Hyunjin hisses when his fingers push the lace underwear to the side, revealing how ruined they already are. “So fucking slippery”.
“I’m always like this when I’m with you,” you admit, “especially when you have your hands all over me. It drives me insane”.
You’re both more than ready for each other, as usual. It’s a magical thing, how it only takes you a few words, touches and gazes to receive each other’s body.
“Relax for me,” he whispers when the tip of his cock stretches your entrance, “like that”.
He holds your hand and you squeeze it hard as he enters you, sinking it into the mattress right next to your head.
“Shit,” a gasp escapes your lips when he bottoms out. And, slowly, he pulls away only to repeat the same movements of his hips against yours, “so- good”.
Hyunjin leans down to kiss your forehead, and then your cheek. He then finds your lips, and synchronizes the brushes of his tongue with the thrusts of his hips.
“Faster,” you plea when he releases your lips to let out a quiet whimper, pressing his forehead against yours while his body moves on their own. “Fuck me faster, Hyunjin”.
And so he does. All to satisfy you.
Every time he bottoms out, his pubis brushes against your clit and gives you the much needed stimulation to reach your climax, so you’re getting closer every time he slams himself inside you.
Hyunjin notices it, by the way your walls clench around him, so he continues steady with his movements. He hasn’t let go of your hand and he doesn’t plan to –he loves feeling you squeeze it, telling him with your touch what you can’t put into words.
“Hyune-”
“I know,” he groans quietly with shortness of breath, “let yourself go, I’m right here”.
Your orgasm hits you right when your gazes meet, and Hyunjin can feel it from how wet and slippery you’ve become, and how hard it is to maintain a steady pace when your hips are practically begging for his release.
“Come on,” he encourages you, not wanting to pull out before fucking you through your high, “give it to me”.
You arch your back and let go of his hand to hook both of your arms around his neck, violently trembling against his body while trying to get away from the stimulation he is providing you with.
But only after you’re done he does so, with a swift movement he pulls away from you and strokes his cock two or three times before coming all over your body, the set of lingerie getting paint with his orgasm.
And as he jerks of the remain of his high on top of you, Hyunjin realizes no painting he has ever gifted you has done you any justice.
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badbtssmut · 8 months
Note
Hi mami,
Can you write a detective!Jimin × suspect!y/n where he fucks her to get her to confess
Thank you for considering, I really love your work 🥰
“Are you still not going to say anything, miss y/n?”
“P-please, ah, please, I don’t know, I swear—“ You whimpered as you were sandwiched between his body and the hard desk.
"Please what? Use your words."
The sound of skin slapping against skin echoed through the room as you struggled to even form a coherent thought, let alone a sentence.
"P-please, sir, I, ah!”
You cried out in pleasure as his cock slammed into your dripping wet cunt, over and over. The detective behind you kept up his quick, deep thrusts, and you couldn’t stop moaning and whining.
“I know that you did it, you would make things a lot easier if you’d just admit to it. Or are you just enjoying this that much? Enjoying my cock so much you don’t want it to stop? Is that it, you rather get fucked than confess?"
You shook your head frantically. It wasn't true, but you also didn't want him to stop.
“No, no, I told you sir, I didn’t—Ah! Please, please, sir, Detective, sir, I can't, I—!"
His cock pounded into you mercilessly. He wasn’t holding back. He would make you confess even if he’d have to fuck you for hours on end.
The detective had it with you, the man was called to help investigate a large amount of money that was stolen from your workplace; a six figure amount of cash that was withdrawn to different accounts. One of them was yours.
He had gone through your bank account, and found the money that was put in your account a few weeks ago.
And yet here you were, claiming you didn't do it. He didn't believe you, not one bit. You had the money, there was no doubt about that, and it was his duty to get a confession out of you.
"I-I can't, I can't..." You whimpered. You felt so good, your pussy was on fire, and the heat was building up quickly.
“We can do this all day.” Jimin gripped onto your hips and bounced your body back against his. “I got all the time in the world to fuck the truth out of you. Are you sure you can't take anymore, sweetheart?"
"I... No, sir, I..." You shivered, feeling yourself get close. The way his thick cock spread your pussy apart was almost too much to bear, and you were starting to see stars.
"Come on, then. You can cum for me, go on."
He gave your ass a quick slap and the sensation pushed you over the edge. You moaned loudly and came, shaking as he fucked you through your orgasm. But he didn’t stop, pounding into you with the same speed.
“I didn’t say I was going to stop. Remember what I said? We can do this all day."
You were breathing heavily, still coming down from the intense orgasm.
"Sir, I... I can't..."
"Oh yes you can, darling. I believe in you. Now come on."
You moaned as his cock filled you up over and over, your body feeling like it was burning up. Jimin thrusted into you relentlessly, and you started to drool, eyes rolling to the back of your head as your cunt was used and abused by him.
"Come on, tell the truth." He coaxed, and you could only moan, unable to form a coherent sentence.
"You did it, didn't you? You took the money, and now I want you to tell me. Confess, and I'll let you cum again."
You gasped and whimpered as you felt him push even deeper into you, his thick cock hitting all the right spots.
"I... I did it, sir!"
"Hmm, that's right. You took the money. Didn’t you, you little criminal?”
You nodded frantically.
"Yes, sir, I did. I'm so sorry, please..."
"Good girl. That wasn't so hard, was it?” He pulled out of you, stroking his cock, spilling his seed on your back. You could only whimper, completely exhausted, still coming down from the fucking.
"Now, we'll have to take you into custody, and make sure that the money will be returned to its rightful owners."
“W-what?” You grabbed your clothes. “No, please, I can’t afford this, I don’t want to lose—“
Jimin chuckled.
"Well, I'll see what I can do. I'm sure we can come to some sort of agreement."
"What do you mean, detective…."
"Shh, I'm sure we'll come to an agreement." He repeated, pressing a finger against your lips. "After all, I'm the one in charge here, aren't I?"
Your eyes widened as you realized what he was saying. Realizing that your only options were either to get fucked, or to be fucked and spend time behind prison bars… you knew what you had to.
You bit your lip and nodded.
"Y-yes, sir."
"Good girl.”
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melodic-haze · 4 months
Note
Can I ask about sub Arlecchino being fucked with a strap-on in his office? I love your writing and sub Arlecchino is so... 😩
☆ — DEMO TRACK: sub!Arlecchino x dom!fem!Reader
☆ — TYPE: NSFW
☆ — CONTENT WARNINGS: Mommy kink 😜 aka reader is the 'Mother' figure to Arle's 'Father' ahahahahahah, reader with a strap referred to as a dick, overstimulation, semi-public? It's in her office so
☆ — NOTES: THANK YOUUU OMG I'M HAPPY YOU LIKE MY WRITING ANON❗️❗️SORRY THIS WAS ROTTING IN THE ASKBOX I had to do some stuff 😭😭😭 but it's okay bc I come back with a VENGEANCE
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Ohhh dude the thing that just popped into my head you're NOT READY (delusional)
While she thought that battling her own children + the Traveller was the best move, it had kinda very much irked you. "I had trained them, it's fine," she says dismissively at the time when you confronted her and something inside you just kinda! Snapped!!!
If a Father has to have a hard hand on his children, then a Mother contrasts that by giving them a gentle touch
That DOES mean that you are to put anyone who threatens your children in any way, and Arlecchino is NO exception whatsoever
And what better way to punish her than to give her a taste of her own medicine in.. a different context?
One hand grabbing a fistful of her hair as you pushed her head down on the desk and the other clenching onto her hip as you moved her on your length, you're drilling into your lover relentlessly despite the slurred sobs that she had let out.
She had cum so many times by now, you didn't bother to keep count after the third time. Through that, however, you hadn't even entertained the mere thought of stopping, only reluctantly doing so when you ran out of stamina or needed to drink water—it's not as if you let her catch her breath as you did so, with the vibrator you had shoved into her at max setting whenever you needed to step away.
Your assault hasn't relented in the least, no matter how many times Arlecchino begged you to stop, no matter how many times she said to do better, no matter how many times she pleaded for you to go easier on her.
"Why would I give way to lenience when you hadn't done the same?" You mused coldly as you continued to plow into her over and over again, "You deem yourself exempt to my wrath, Peruere?"
You feel her try to shake her head in response before quickly following it up with a slurred defense, "N-No, 'm nn-- mmng! Not.. I--"
You clicked your tongue and gave her ass a loud smack, which earns you a garbled moan from the one underneath you, "You can't even form coherent sentences because of something you initially regarded as an 'unnecessary' action.. but that's okay."
The auditory mixture of her excess of slick between her thighs, your skin coming in contact every time you bottomed out inside of her, the pornographic noises that escaped her lips... It was all downright sinful, something completely unbecoming of her position.
But right now, she didn't care less. Or couldn't, more like, considering the complete lack of thought in her head. The only remaining thing within her mind was you and the way you put her in her place.
And the both of you knew that she relished the feeling of having things out of her control.
"You don't need to answer me," you continued, leaning down to press a kiss on the back of her neck.. before shoving her face down roughly as you straightened back up, "you just need to be put in your place, baby. Understand?"
You actually receive a desperate nod amongst the constant surge of white-hot overstimulation and constant orgasm.
"Good... Just don't resist and let mommy discipline you properly."
As if on cue, she cums again with a jolt, much to your delight.
Wanna fuck her so hard that her juices drip onto the floor and slide down on the side of the desk 😞😞 oughhghghh
There's that RISK of being caught in the midst of your lil session too—you could have it locked all along and while normal everyday Arlecchino would've noticed it perfectly fine, the Arlecchino you have underneath you is wayyyy too fucked out to actually realise in the moment so she's panicking but also? Her arousal is actually RAMPED UP are you kidding me
She won't admit to exhibitionism but there's smth There when she thinks of how the world would know that you have such a powerful Hold on her 🫶
But rn she doesn't care to move, not when her thighs are quivering and her pussy's aching to be filled all over again, practically getting used to the feeling of you inside her
Godddd break her enough and she might not be able to live without you ☺️☺️ or maybe you already have who knows ☺️☺️☺️☺️☺️☺️ just saying the moment you donned the title of a Mother was the moment that she was indesputably yours for you to do as you saw fit ☺️☺️☺️☺️☺️☺️☺️
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minv97 · 1 year
Text
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Warning nsfw content Minors dni.
Contains unprotected sex, mentions of cum and overstimulation and everything else nasty.
Friends with benefits, fem reader and Felix bet that reader can't sleep with anyone else because according to him it's "my pussy".
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Hii! So I found out I hate doing requests and I've been gone for a good week or 2 but I'm back! I'll be posting more often hopefully but I hope u guys enjoy this! Been an idea in my head for awhile now and I'm obsessed with Lee Felix these days but who isn't? TAKE CARE
You're not surprised to see Felix standing in your living room when you get home, he's got an annoying smirk on his pretty pink lips upon seeing your arrival and he's giving you a look that just screams I fucking told you so.
"I'm not in the mood Felix." You say before he can even start and he puts his hands up in a surrendering gesture.
"Wasn't gonna say anything, sweetheart." He smiles at you innocently but you know Felix well enough to know he's just waiting to pour alcohol in your cut.
"I'm serious," you throw your purse down on the floor more aggressively than you had meant to. "I'll fucking kill you if you say it."
Felix can barely hold back a laugh, eyes squinting as he walks to you with open arms.
"Fine, I won't say I told you so," he says as he pulls you into his chest. "Want to tell me what happened?"
You groan, squeezing your eyes shut tight before hiding your face in his chest as the memories came flooding back to the surface of your brain. All you wanted to do was go on about your day and try to pretend it never happened.
"He couldn't get me to cum-" you groan again, feeling heat rushing to your face.
"Is that all?" You can feel Felix's chest begin to shake as he tries to contain his laughter only for your sake.
"-I had to fake an orgasm and he kinda caught on which resulted in me leaving and it was so awkward. I thought I was going to die."
"Wanna know why you couldn't cum?" Felix asks tauntingly, forcing your chin up to look him in his eyes and he places a peck on the tip of your nose. "It's 'cause he's not me."
You can't stop yourself from rolling your eyes at the cocky motherfucker, hating the fact you knew deep down inside he was right, you were hooked to Felix.
"Lucky for you though, I'm here. What would you do without me?" He presses his lips against your cheek in a soft sweet peck.
"I'd have to start buying my brownies from the store." You wrap your arms around his neck and lean on your tippy toes to connect your lips with his in a kiss for a moment
"You know damn well I'm good for other things too but I see you've forgotten, must need a reminder hm love?"
And that's exactly how you ended up under Felix for the umpteenth time, Felix thinks it's where you should've been all along, under him with him between your legs and his cock stuffing your needy pussy to the brim. He loves this position just so he can see your face as he slides out of you only to slide right back in your velvety walls with a sqwelsh, loves seeing your eyes roll to the back of your head as your brain turns to mush all because of his cock.
"Look at that-" he has to hold the back of your neck up to get you to watch when he slides out of your pussy again, only to push right back in your pulsating count, watching the way your walls wrap around him so deliciously. "That's all mine baby, my pussy. Say it."
"Ahh fuck Felix..." You whine out, Felix knows your head is practically mush right now and it makes him chuckle but he's determined, slapping your pussy hard enough to see if that'll make you come back to your senses just enough.
"Say it, tell me who's pussy this is." He demands, rutting in to you at such a fast pace it's hard for you to form a coherent sentence.
"Yours." You breathe out, hands searching for something to grab onto and you opt for your bedsheets, fisting the fabric in your hands for deer life. "Yours, yours, yours. Ts'your pussy-"
"There you go, good girl." He watches the way your face scrunches up in pleasure as you cream all over his cock, lips parting and he can't help but to kiss your parted lips as he fucks you through your high till your thighs are shaking from the overstimulation.
"Too much- pleasee-" You beg, eyes beginning to gloss over with tears from how overstimulated your pussy feels but Felix isn't done yet.
"Give me one more baby, please? I know you can fucking take it." Felix continues thrusting in your pussy at his same fast pace, not bothering to wipe your mascara and tear covered face nor the drool spilling from the corner of your lips, sadistically basking at the sight of your fucked out state.
"fuck fuck fuck." You mumble repeatedly as you begin to feel that familiar knot forming again, Felix's thrusts get sloppier and he reaches his hand down to begin playing with your clit, rubbing hard and fast circles as he rests his forehead against yours.
"Take that fucking dick, that's it, baby fuck." Felix can't help but ramble on as he feels himself getting closer and closer to his release, becoming drunk off your pussy and cumming instantly with you when he feels your pussy clenching around him like crazy as you reach your own orgasm, whole body shaking in pleasure as he fucks his white hot sticky fluids into you for good measure. "So next time you try and give my pussy away you'll remember this is mine." He pecks your lips a few times, patting your fucked out pussy a few times in the process and making you flinch with each pat.
<33
Can find all of my work under #minv97
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mostlyghostlyy · 1 month
Note
dale is such a freak I hate him sm I want him to corner me and grope me while i have a panic attack and can’t fight him off (idc if he’d be unaware or just don’t gaf) sorry. sorry
Something similar, I've had this cooking up for a while.
Imagine you’re out in a public place, maybe a mall with a few of your girlfriends, just planning on having a good time and spending a shitload of money. Walking around bags in hands, when one of your friends points out a man sitting on one of the benches. He is just staring into space, mouth opened and muttering. The three of you start mocking his appearance, trying to contain the giggles at whispered jokes. That is when one of your friends dares you to go up and flirt with him. They’re looking at you expectantly, so you shrug and go along. It's just a joke after all, no harm no foul.
You stroll over to his bench, “This seat taken?” You motion to the bench. He looks up at you as if awoken from a trance, smiles and shakes his head. You sit, and he leans away from you to get a better look. Your friend's snickering in the corner, but he doesn't seem to notice all of his attention drawn to you. “Shame to see such a handsome man sitting all alone. You waiting on a wife or something? Maybe she's in one of these stores trying on a pretty dress to impress you.”
He blinks dumbfounded, smile frozen on his face. “Wife?” His hands fidgeting with the ring on his finger. “No….. no…. wife, I-,” A little breathless laugh. You rest your head in your hand, eyeing him amusedly, while he tried to form a coherent sentence. This was easier than you’d thought it would be, usually it takes at least a few lines before they devolve into muddled messes. You tap him lightly on the shoulder, and he lets out a small moan at your touch. You stifle a giggle and continue. Putting on your best flirty voice, “Whats your name, tiger?” Pushing the hair from his face, and he leans into your touch.
“Dale,” he responds lightly, still nuzzling into your hand. You pull it away disgusted, but quickly regain your composure. “And what’s your name, Angel?” You let out a chuckle and lean close. He smells musty and sweaty, you wonder when was the last time he showered. Whispering in his ear “You can call me whatever you want, baby.” You feel his whole body shutter, his hands slowly coming up to caress your face. A glance down would reveal his growing erection, wet spot now gracing his pants. You lean in, as if to kiss him. He shuts his eyes, ready to receive the act bestowed upon him.
Dale’s eyes shoot open when he hears you start to laugh, starting as a giggle and upgrading to a full guffaw. Your girlfriends run up, equally as in tears as you are. Snickering and holding each other upright. “Oh my god, did you see his face?” one giggles “He totally would have cum in his pants if you kissed him, just look at how hard he is.” Dale looks away ashamed, tears welling up in his eyes. “It was just a joke!” You croon, “We were just trying to have some fun! Don't act like you didn't enjoy it.”
He gets up and walks away, his face a shade of scarlett as he curses you under his breath. What was to be expected for him? He should’ve known this was some kind of cruel prank, no doubt the angels of heaven sent you to make him more miserable than he already is. He finds a quiet and secluded place, he is still revved up from your touching him. He jerks off until he is satisfied. Deciding that he wants to find you again to teach you a lesson.
He watches as you waive your friends off, you’re stopping to use the restroom. Its a single stall, wonderful. Nice and private. Entering you walk up to the mirror and do some makeup touch-ups. Startled when he starts pounding on the door. “Occupied.” You hiss, and continue. The knocking gets louder and more aggressive, you groan. Rolling your eyes “There is someone in here, dipshit. Find another bathroom.” It continues, you reluctantly but angrily walk over to the door. Swinging it open “Look asshole-” A hand flies over your mouth and you’re pushed backwards into the room. Realization hits you, it's the same man from earlier.
“Okay, Angel,” He huffs “Im going to remove my hand, but if you scream, I will cut out your tongue and make you eat it. Understand, beautiful?” You nod, and he pulls his hand away. You start begging for your life, forgiveness. Threatened apologies trickling out of your mouth in shuttering gasps. Of course you have no choice but to ask him what he wants. “I want what I was promised, Angel. You cant just treat a man like this, and expect him not to come and claim the prize.” He has you pushed up against the sink, hands stuck out behind you grasping the cold plaster. Your face turned away and eyes tightly shut. “And most of all, i want a real fucking apology.” With the last word, he tears your shirt open.
Your skin prickles at the unprotected air, he enjoys watching you breath in and out panicked. You wince when he reaches under your bra. Nipples already perked up from the cold air, he pinches and fondles them. One hand traveling up to grab at your throat, squeezing softly. “Im sorry, im so fucking sorry.” You rasp. He snorts. “Try again later, Princess.”
Yelping, he grabs you and flips you around. Your ass to him, and now you’re facing the mirror. Black streaks of mascara stained down your face, complexion both pale and flushed simultaneously. He tears down your pants, relishing your cries for mercy. Mocking the appeals for pity.
“Relax, Angel. Aren't you having fun?” He hisses in your ear before yanking your panties down. His erection fully grown and painful for him. No more teasing. He bends you over the sink, lining himself up and slowly moving his hips to fully lodge himself inside. He does this on purpose to make it as painful for you as he can. You scream and grit your teeth as he begins grinding into you. Your hands and elbows digging into the white of the sink, you begin feeling nauseous. Head drooping down to stare at the drain. Dale notices this, and yanks your head back with a fistful of your hair. Giving you no choice but to watch yourself in the mirror. Observing how his head flies back with every thrust, and how his hand keeps roaming over your body as if it cannot find a good perch. Watching as he rails you without mercy, pace brutal and bruising. Hitting deep within you, and probing your cervix. Involentarly letting out a moan of pleasure, arching your back. Unconsciously letting your hips thrust to meet his. “Do you like that!? Do you like that!? Do you like that!?” He screams after every thrust. Words starting out clear, then getting jumbled the closer he gets.
His whines ratchet up, and you've been with enough guys to figure that he's getting close to orgasm. Begging him in your mind to pull out, not to cum inside you. As if he could read your thoughts he climaxes. Hot strings of cum coat the inside of your womb, leaking around his cock. He leans on you, panting heavily. Peeling his sticky skin off yours. Watching as you sink to the floor in dismay, he laughs. “Relax, Angel. It was only a joke.”
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teecupangel · 3 months
Note
Hi teecup, I hope ur having a great day/noon/night!
Forgive me if the things i'm about to say don't make much sense. It's been a vey, very, very, difficult time for me and my countrymen here, and my ability to make coherent sentences have declined drastically. So, yeah... BUT! That doesn't matter haha.
Anyways, I had a thought. And i'm not even sure how or why i got it but.... hear me out now...
Our boy, Desmond, gets thrown back in time as usual, same old same old, right? Exept, this time he doesn't end up in the Big Three™'s time-line. He ends up in Al-Mualim's time. *insert mind-blown emoji here cuz i can't find it rn*
And ik that i'm not a certified AC Expert like u and many others, and i haven't really finished any of the AC games yet (i've only seen bits of AC III and have only started AC 2, I also haven't finished AC 1)
But I do know that he wasn't really that creepy and evil in his youth/ b4 he became The Old Man of the Moutain, so i was thinking maybe Desmond ends up in that era of Al Mualim or is it Rashid al-Din Sinan? I know that he's based on a real historical figure but i'm not so sure if he's called that in-game?
And knowing Desmond, he'd probably get the urge to kill Rashid (i hope i'm using the name correctly) the time he figures shit out and connect that dots. But he would end up not doing that, cuz u know, it might fuck up the time-line and Altaïr might end up not being born, creating a domino-effect.
I want Desmond to meet Rashid before he starts to becom the Al Mualim we know today, so that Desmond can see how he was b4 the evants of AC 1.
Maybe Rashid's an arrogant ass, or a nerdy loser, or a popular assassin- who knows! The possibilites are endless!! (or maybe he's an obsessive bastard who gets obsessed with Desmond cuz he's just full of mysteries and wonders :Dc )
And blah blah blah, plot here, plot there, Isu-bullshit this, time shenanigans that, and BOOM they meet.
And romance ensues? :3 (romace wil absolutely ensue :}}} )
NOW, BEFORE- BEFORE YOU TIE ME TO A STAKE AND BURN ME ALIVE FOR THIS- i think it'd be a cute idea, and who knows? maybe Rashid was hot in his prime *insert lenny face cuz even after all these years i still don't know how to type it and is too lazy to cop paste it* and maybe he liked to solve mysteries and had a thing for the unexplainable. And Desmond is the most unexplainable, most bizarre thing to have graced the earth :33333.
Now that i've got this idea out of my system i'm gonna go pray for the down fall of my coutry's shit for brain, good for nothing military government/hj.
bye! *evaporates*
I hope you’re doing alright and I’m sorry that it took two months before I could answer your ask TTATT
As far as I know, he was only called Al Mualim because of legal reasons but Rashid ad-Din Sinan was the leader of the Assassins in Masyaf during 1191 so it’s safe to assume Al Mualim is AC’s version of Rashid (historically he died in 1193, not 1191.
.
Okay. We can make this work.
We put Desmond at around the same time he’s the recruit and we make it hard for him to realize he’s Al Mualim until it’s too late by doing one simple thing:
Desmond doesn’t know Al Mualim’s real name.
He always knew it as Al Mualim. As far as he knew, Al Mualim was his actual name.
Then he remembered that Al Mualim can mean mentor and bangs his head on the nearest flat surface.
His mission has been clear from the start.
Become an Assassin, take out Al Mualim before he does shit, find Umar and adopt him then play matchmaker so Altaïr would be born.
And no.
Desmond wasn’t going to think about the whole “can you truly be sure that the person who will be born will be Altaïr if you change the circumstances of his conception?”
Yeah.
His head hurts just thinking about it so he won’t.
For now, he’ll focus on his training while keeping a look out for anyone who gives of Al Mualim vibes.
What’s the Al Mualim vibes?
Manipulative old man vibes.
The problem is…
Rashid is one of the recruits in the same batch as Desmond and he becomes Desmond’s closest friend.
And there was no way Desmond would ever be friends with a future power hungry asshole like Al Mualim.
No way.
.
The way their relationship becomes romantic really depends on the kind of personality young Rashid would have.
A nerdy loser who starts making a name for himself because of his intelligence and tactical mind would start off as the kid Desmond sorta looks after. When he starts to show that his strength lies in making plans and quick judgments, he becomes the man whispering on Desmond’s ear. Providing plans and suggestions while giving Desmond a heads up on the less savory words people say about him. Desmond would never think this Rashid is Al Mualim because he’s nice and truly do want to help Desmond. This is also how Rashid would show his love for Desmond and, really, Desmond would think they’re bros and when he realizes that Rashid actually loves him, he’d think “oh, I am Ezio’s descendant”
An arrogant ass Rashid would butt heads with Desmond but Desmond would find himself fond of the man because he reminds him of AC1 Altaïr. This is the Rashid who would definitely be counted as a tsundere and their relationship would start when Rashid just flatout tells Desmond that he wants to do unspeakable things to him while they’re arguing. Desmond is offended because “tugging on my pigtails doesn’t work in real life, dumbass!” and Rashid is just “???” because what the fuck are pigtails??? Lots of awkwardness until Desmond realize that butting heads with Rashid is really how they flirt.
Now. Popular Assassin Rashid is more on the side of polite but is absolutely Desmond’s rival. Whatever it is, the two of them are always competing. Unlike the arrogant ass version, this Rashid is always nice to Desmond. The whole “no hard feelings” and pure competitiveness are what drives their relationship. This is the one where the two of them spar privately one time and things happen. They would try to distant themselves from one another for a bit until they finally talk it out. Rashid honestly didn’t think he loved Desmond until the whole ‘after-sparring’ thing.
Whichever you pick as Rashid’s background, he will become obsessed with Desmond but it’s more on the side of “I will do everything to make Desmond happy” which is good for Desmond but not really good for anyone against him.
.
Desmond is the one who adopts Umar in this one and Umar imprints on him like a baby duckling to a mama duckling. Everyone actually assumed Umar is his bastard son. Desmond ignores it even though he’s only like… a decade and a half older than Umar.
Rashid definitely treats him like Desmond’s son. He’s Umar’s favorite of all of Desmond’s friends.
And really, Desmond should have seen that as a hint of Rashid’s ‘future’.
Speaking of the future.
He’s been looking for Al Mualim this entire time and he has his suspects (Rashid, however, is not on the list) but honestly?
He’s just waiting for the person who would be picked as the one to lead the expansion to Masyaf since that would be Al Mualim.
Desmond has, unfortunately, fucked up the timeline so badly that the person chosen to lead the expansion?
It was Desmond.
.
Sidebar: Faheem would be that cute younger brother who turns grumpy when he grows up. Desmond will forever grieve the lost of little cute Faheem. Faheem is always embarrassed when Desmond talked about his ‘past’.
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redrose10 · 2 months
Note
44 with either yoongi or jungkook!! ❤️❤️❤️❤️
Since I haven’t gotten any other Jungkook requests I wanted to use him but this prompt is just so Yoongi coded I had to do it.
#44 I still remember the way you taste
Warnings: Swearing, a little suggestive but nothing extreme, some self doubt, maybe a little power play but in a playful way
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
When you graduated high school you had decided to take a year off before going to college. Something about finding yourself and deciding what you wanted to do with your life. Well one year turned into two turned into five and now here you were ten years after graduating high school sitting in a college freshman literature class.
After having what you’re calling a very small little breakdown (your friends would call it a full blown complete meltdown after one too many margaritas) about not having accomplished anything with your life you decided it was time to get back into it and go to college.
You weren’t 100% sure what you wanted your major to be so right now you were taking mostly just filler courses to fulfill your credit requirements.
Looking around the room made you feel so old. Everyone there was fresh out of high school, so wide eyed and full of hope as they sipped on their sugary coffees and panic attack inducing energy drinks. You stuck to a nice simple green tea with just enough caffeine to wake you up a little, but not make you feel like you were having a constant heart attack. One of the many joys of getting older.
Bored you scribbled away in your notebook when you heard the door close behind you.
“Alright class, Welcome to Literature 101. I’ll be your professor this semester. My name is Min Yoongi. You can call me Professor or Professor Min.”
The oh so familiar sight made you choke on your tea. You coughed and coughed and sputtered as the entire class including your professor stared at you. Once you composed yourself you apologized feeling like your entire body was on fire from embarrassment.
Yoongi looked in your direction for a moment before going back to emptying his briefcase.
Okay so maybe he doesn’t remember you. You felt both a sense of relief, but also a little hurt. He was all you had thought about for years. High school sweethearts who were madly in love until one day they weren’t. Or at least he wasn’t. Yoongi had broken up with you half way through his second year of college. Something about feeling like you weren’t taking life seriously enough and being worried you’d take him down too.
At the time you were incredibly hurt, but looking back now you couldn’t blame him. For years you worked hard to get over him. Dating other guys. Trying to build your social circle. Nothing really helped the hurt though.
It did help a little when you found out that he’d gotten engaged. The thought that he was completely off the market and therefore having no chance of reconciling helped you to move on too. You never did bother to follow up on how to wedding went though. You didn’t want to pry that much into his life. You just hoped he was happy.
Seeing him here was stirring up a lot of feelings and you were worried how you were going to get through this semester. You already weren’t excited about literature to begin with. Yoongi always had a way with words so you weren’t surprised he was teaching this. You on the other hand often struggled to put together coherent sentences. This was going to be rough.
Although the next several weeks of the semester went by easier than you’d thought. You put in a lot of effort to put out good work. Yoongi barely acknowledged you and the few times he did speak to you he treated you like any other student.
You stared down at the paper you had spent days writing. You worked really hard on it, but apparently Yoongi thought otherwise thanks to the big fat red note at the bottom, “Meet me in my office after class. We need to discuss this.” You thought your heart was going to explode out of your chest.
“Alright class, I can tell your brains are pretty mush today so how about we end class early. See you all next week.”, Yoongi chuckled receiving many cheers and thank gods from the class.
Great. Just great. You thought you had another whole hour to prepare. Slowly as if to stall you packed up your belongings and made your way over to his office.
Once there you knocked before poking your head in the room. He motioned for you to take a seat on the couch. He took his glasses off and sat them on his desk before closing the door and joining you on the couch as well. His cologne intoxicating and comforting all at the same time.
“How have you been Y/N? I’ve been wanting to catch up. It’s just been so busy.”, he spoke.
So he did remember you after all. “Good, how are you?”, you asked.
“Good as well.”, he smiled.
Wanting to get out of there before you did something you’d regret you decided to expedite the conversation, “Look about the paper, I tried really hard. I don’t know what happened…”
Yoongi put his hand up to stop you, “Your paper was fine. Sure there were a few changes to be made but nothing major.”
“Oh okay well what is this meeting about then?”, you questioned.
He chuckled to himself, “I guess I just wanted an excuse to have some alone time with you. Do you know how hard it is to see you sitting in my class over and over and not being able to do anything about it?”
You looked at him stunned, “I…I didn’t think you even remembered who I was.”
“Remember who you were? Fuck Y/N, I still remember the way you taste.”, he said before locking his lips onto yours.
It felt incredible to feel his touch again. His soft lips. His strong hands leaving goosebumps as they made their way along your waist. Your whole body tingled with want and desire until you remembered one little detail. Because you are many things some good, some bad, but homewrecker was not one of them.
His lips were still feverishly searching for yours as you pulled away, “What about your wife?”
His face turned to confusion, “Wife? What wife?”
I ran into Jimin several years ago, “He said you were engaged.”
He sighed and nodded in understanding, “I called it off. I couldn’t go through with the wedding.”
“Oh I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Don’t be. I had realized I was still in love with someone else the whole time anyways.”, he whispered before leaving over you and crashing his lips back onto yours which you now happily received.
There was a knock at the door that stopped you both followed by a woman’s voice, “Mr.Min I have some papers for you to sign.”
“I’ll grab them later Mrs. Kim. I’m with a student right now.”, he replied. His voice faltering towards the end as you undid his belt while before running your hand up his thigh.
After he was sure she’d left he turned his attention back to you, “You’re gonna pay for that.”
“Mmhm we’ll see about that Yoongi.”, you teased.
He smirked, “Yeah we’ll see. And that’s professor to you.”
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sparrowrye · 5 months
Text
Demi Demon || Alastor x Reader, A2 part 29
Synopsis: It’s been over a year since we were brought under Alastor’s watchful eye. We’ve unlocked our Demonic powers, discovered our own talents, and began building the Safe Haven with Charlie and co. Alastor seems increasingly interested in the power we hold as one and intends to use it properly.
Previous part
Part 29: the aftermath
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Blackwater lunged at me, hands enclosing around my throat. I couldn't move. My limbs wouldn't listen. I was helpless as he pressed harder still. I needed to breathe. Needed to move. Get off!
Alastor's presence yanked me into the ground. Blackwater clambered after me. His voice was a horrible screeching sound, like a combination of all different voices pitched at different tones.
"Wake up!"
My eyes snapped open to Husker's face. I abruptly drew in a sharp, long breath like I hadn't breathed in hours. I whined as I sucked in and expelled the precious air.
Every muscle in my body hurt. Husker was holding me up with both hands but even the muscles I weren't using were painfully sore. My head was aching too. It wasn't a migraine; something heavier.
"Welcome back." Husker gave a nervous smile. I looked around to see I was in my old room.
"Holy hell toots, you almost died there," Angel said from the other side of the bed. My ear flicked up and turned. My mouth dropped slightly open in a look of shock. "What? What'd I say?" he asked nervously.
I tilted my head, careful with how sore my neck muscles were, and flicked my ear again. No. That wasn't possible. I looked to Husker for help.
"Is it your hearing?" he prompted. I tried to speak but it turned into a painful coughing fit. He lifted a hand from my arm to snap his fingers by that ear. I heard nothing and my ear barely reacted. "You or Althea can heal it, don't worry."
I had Angel magic. Of course I could heal it. Right?
"Alastor," I croaked. My lips were cracked and my throat was dry, all scratchy, and sore.
"He's fine," Husker said, bringing a cold glass of water to my lips. I found it nearly impossible to lift my arms. I could move them a hair but lifting was an entirely different struggle. "You're in far worse shape than him."
After I drank the whole glass, he helped me lay back down. I tried lifting my arms again and found I could but with a great deal of effort. They felt like they had anvils tied to them.
"What's wrong with me?" I asked, voice finally returning. It felt hard to focus on anything, like my mind was all over the place. I let out a wide yawn.
"You really pushed your limits." Husker pushed my hair to the side so it wasn't in my face.
"The factory...people might've survived."
"No one survived. Alastor told us where it was and Charlie teleported us. It was miles under the water by the time we got there."
I looked up at the ceiling. It felt like I was barely clinging to coherent thoughts. "Other factories."
"We'll hit them one by one. There's an Overlord meeting tomorrow night."
"How long have I been asleep?" I had to restart the sentence a few times just to make it coherent.
"A couple days. You've been through—"
The door creaked open and Alastor's red ears poked in. His worried expression turned into a smile as we made eye contact. He crossed the room to where Husker was sitting on the edge of the bed. I noticed his walk was slow, almost calculated, and his cane sounded heavier on the wood. He had a bandage around his head but he still wore his normal attire. Always proper. Always put together. Always Alastor.
Husker stood up to allow him to sit, leaving with Angel to grab food for me. Alastor ran the back of a single claw along my cheek. I turned my head into it, my hands heavy over my stomach and unable to move from the covers. He turned his hand to let his palm rub gently on my skin.
"I am glad to see you awake." His radio filter was off and his voice sounded deeper and more crackly. It must be from the screaming when they tried to operate on him.
"You're okay," was all I could say. The world was at a strange, slight slant and the colors of the room seemed vibrant. I was really starting to lose it.
"That is the second time you've saved me, darling." He planted a kiss on my forehead. "I suppose you aren't as useless as you once were."
I chuckled, pain pinching my lungs as I did so. I opened my mouth and took several seconds to form my sentence. "Poor way of saying thank you."
"Perhaps this will suffice?" He pressed a gentle kiss on my lips. My muscles relaxed and I wished he would press just a tad bit harder. He reached out with his presence to interlace with mine.
He said something else but I didn't hear at first. The second time I heard but couldn't understand. The third I simply just couldn't comprehend anything. He said something different and placed a kiss on my forehead, pushing his weight on his cane to help him stand.
My hands didn't work and my mind was all over the place. I let out a loud whine as he turned to leave. I licked my dry lips and gave him a desperate look. Please understand what I'm asking, even if I don't.
To my great relief, he walks around the bed and sits on the vacant side. I used what little energy I have to shuffle closer so my nose is up against his coat. He smelled like a bonfire, a sweet one. His gentle claws thread through my hair and around my horns, carefully scratching in all the right spots.
I was asleep within seconds.
****
"Darling, I don't think it's wise for you to attend this meeting," Alastor tried gently. We were pushing the time, risking the chance of being late to the Overlord meeting with Lucifer. I had managed to stand on my own to dress myself but I was far from recovered, one might even argue that I shouldn't even be awake.
"I need to get rid of Blackwater's soul," I told him, clipping the necklace of his crest around my neck. I wore the same black and red attire I had previously to this type of meeting: a gorgeous red dress with white lining on the hem.
"Then we request Lucifer to visit. You should be resting right now." He placed one hand on my hip and the other on my cheek. He was smiling but his eyes showed concern. My hearing was still broken on the one side. Althea couldn't heal it but there was still a chance that I could with my Angelic magic.
"They need to see me there," I argued, "They need to see me give his soul to Lucifer. I just..." I teetered slightly and he pulled me close to keep me upright. "I need your energy when I do. Please."
His eyes examined my face, pupils shifting slightly as he did. Our magic hadn't separated since I woke up so I was reading into his exact thoughts and feelings. He knew I was right but his concern and care was trying to overwhelm it. I ran one hand up his spine and felt him calm surprisingly fast.
I laid my cheek on his chest and said quietly, "I want your help."
That did it.
He agreed with a heavy sigh and helped me walk through the house. Using shadows made my head spin so he didn't dare try to travel like that. Teleporting was its own problem, the motion spiking a migraine and making my limbs buzz in a funny way. I clung to him, taking a slow, grounding breath before walking through the palace doors.
The last of the Overlords entered the large room. My claws tapped on the tile floor and I clung tighter to Alastor's arm. He was walking slowly for me on purpose. Everything I did had to have intent, my limbs feeling like heavy magnets. Heads turned as we walked in and followed as Alastor led me to Lucifer's chair, the King of Hell standing with a smile.
His smile turned to surprise as I carefully knelt on one knee, hand extended upward. Charlie had given him a heads up about taking Blackwater's soul from me. He had plagued my sleep and even my waking mind. Even now he was trying to claw his way up through my thinned magic.
"Let's take that soul off your hands," Lucifer said smoothly, hand touching mine. I drew on Alastor's energy as I pulled Blackwater through my shields. Lucifer stood beside me in my mind space and waited. Blackwater made a run for me but barely got halfway when Lucifer's gold magic enclosed around him. I drew on more energy from Alastor to help solidify Blackwater's soul in order for Lucifer to take him from me.
A moment later, I blinked my eyes open to Lucifer's black boots. I lifted my head as he withdrew his hand, gold sparks fading away. The strain on my magic from holding Blackwater was gone and it felt like a heavy weight had just been lifted off my chest.
Thankfully Alastor was keeping me upright and practically lifted my entire weight to my feet. He then led me to his vacant chair and stood beside me, arms folded behind his back. Granted I was physically weak but such a motion was shocking from him, even the other Overlords didn't seem to know what to think of it.
"Well, uh, this certainly brings things full circle," Lucifer started, sitting down in his black and red seat, "but we need to ensure all of his assets are destroyed. Especially since we've lost four surface Overlords."
The conversation carried on for an hour. The Overlords fought over who would attack what factory and several attempts to gain more territory. The fighting was annoying and Lucifer repeatedly told them to settle territory claiming at the surface. Fortunately, everyone was engrossed in the conversation and failed to notice my nodding off. Alastor would consistently touch my shoulder to keep me upright and wake me up. Everything felt very heavy and my muscles ached from the strain. I just wanted to sleep. I wanted to curl up against Alastor's side and fall asleep for hours.
Eventually, to my great relief, the meeting came to an end. The Overlords filed out of the room but Vox lingered, scowling, and holding my eyes for a moment too long. Alastor stepped up to block my view from him and helped me up to my feet. I hooked my arm around his and thanked Lucifer for taking Blackwater's soul. The King of Hell himself gave his own kind of bow and thanked me for it.
Alastor led me to the front of the palace doors before teleporting back up to the surface. My knees buckled as soon as my feet hit the ground, Alastor's other arm moving at lightning speed to catch me. I gripped at his shirt, fearing I would tear it, as my fingers slipped against the fabric when he hoisted me back up.
"I'm sorry," I mumbled, suddenly unable to keep my eyes open all the way.
Alastor banished his cane and reached down, lifting my legs up so he was carrying me bridal style. My hand grabbed the spot near his neck as I leaned my weight into him. I fell asleep as soon as my head hit his shoulder. The smell of his cedarwood, smokey scent was like a sleeping drug. I hadn't realized I had fallen asleep until I was being placed on soft sheets and warm covers pulled up to my shoulder.
I pried my tired eyes open as Alastor straightened up. Everything about his form, from his chest, to his ears, to his antlers, to his face, everything was gratifyingly appealing. Once upon a time I had hated him. Once upon a time I wanted nothing more than to be an ocean away from him. Now, I could barely handle him being in a different room.
"Don't leave," I mumbled as he walked away. My nerves abated slightly at the sight of his room.
He chuckled. "I am coming to join you, my love." He walked to the other side of the bed and, with a snap of his fingers, changed out of his usual suit and into a plain black long sleeve and pants. He climbed in bed as elegantly as ever and shifted close.
"Why always a long sleeve?" My words were starting to slur together. I sounded drunk.
"Does it bother you?" he questioned amusingly. He positioned himself so that his arm was under my head. I hooked my arm on his opposing side and tried to pull myself onto my side. He pulled me the rest of the way until I was leaning my face on his shoulder, tail wrapping comfortably around his ankle.
"I like your skin," I slurred once again, hand lazily reaching up to touch his cheek. I loved seeing his genuine smile. He snapped his fingers and the fabric on my cheek disappeared. I reached my hand further down to touch his other arm, skin as smooth as I thought. My smile grew.
"Time for sleep, my love," he kissed my forehead and brought my hand to rest on his chest, his own laying on top of mine. I was asleep within seconds.
****
It took a full week in order for the heaviness to go away. I was still incredibly tired all the time, stealing naps left and right where I could. Althea couldn't necessarily heal anything, and neither could I, aside from my one ear, since it was mostly all mental health. My soul was trying to regenerate its energy and no one except myself could do that. It was aggravating to deal with since it was very time consuming.
Althea was determined for me to sleep even more than what I was doing already. She was having me take long walks with Reagan, Vivian, or Vilcin. The more tired I was, the more I would sleep, the faster I would heal. That was Althea's train of thought, anyways.
I managed to evade her one cool evening and hide away in Alastor's room. I opened the window and curled up with pillows, the familiar red blanket, and my sketchbook. I was extremely content. The salty, cool summer breeze brushed softly on my face as I sketched Alastor from memory. It felt like things couldn't get bad, though I knew in the back of my mind there was always a chance.
For now, I was happy.
I did several rough sketches of him before attempting a more detailed one. I played with blending the led then did a loose sketch with a pen overtop. It turned out better than I thought and attempted it a second time before calling it quits. I was losing the sunlight.
Finally I finished and let out a huge yawn, stretching out my limbs and cracking my spine back in place. I leaned back into the pillows comfortably.
"Is that me?"
I jumped at the sound of his voice directly in my ear. I snapped the book to my side, out of view. "When did you come in?" I asked in bewilderment, mostly from embarrassment.
"That's quite stunning artwork," he ignored my question, standing up with his arms behind his back. I closed the sketchbook and the window. "Come now, darling, it was meant as a compliment." He placed his claw gently on my shoulder. Alcine and his shadow sprouted on the wall to look at each other.
"Thank you." I gripped the edges of the sketchbook tightly.
He leaned down and gave me a sweet, gentle kiss. "You may continue, I will do my own work." He unclipped his coat and casted it on the bed. My eyes refused to leave his slim form until his gaze fell on me. I pretended to look out the dark window.
I stayed like that for awhile, the sound of his pen scratching on paper and the fire popping were the only noises I could hear. It felt peaceful again.
I grew cold by the window, though, and after drawing the curtain closed, I went to stand in front of the fire. Alastor's mind wrapped tighter around mine as I did but he didn't move. Staring at his back, I realized this was the first time he was actually keeping his back to me for a long time. He was almost always facing me or if his was back was to me it was only for a moment.
I felt the trust as much as he felt my realization of it.
The warmth of the fire was better than magic warmth. I kept my palms open to the orange glow and let it soothe the aching muscles in my back. I would need to sit soon. Standing still took some effort.
I found myself staring at Alastor's back. A moment later, I had stepped forward and touched his broad shoulder.
He flinched.
I retracted my hand.
His smile was strained as he turned sharply to me. I held my hand tight against my stomach and covered by my other one. "I-I'm sorry. I didn't mean to...I'm sorry."
He let out a visible sigh, shoulders and eyebrows relaxing. His eyes jumped to my tightly clasped hands. 
"I'll uh...I'll ask next time." I took a step away.
"That would be preferred." He held out his hand, as if asking me to take it. He waited, outstretching it further when I didn't move from my restrained position.
Finally, feeling his nerves dissipating in his mind, I gradually extended my arm and let him wrap his long, red claws around my small hand. He pulled me closer and placed a soft kiss on my fingers.
"I'm sorry," I said again.
"It was unexpected. I was focused." He brought my fingers up to his cheek and tilted his head so he was leaning on them. "Perhaps you will continue now that I am aware."
He placed my hand on his shoulder, right in the spot between it and his neck, and turned back to his papers. I ran my hand across the back of his neck, to the other shoulder, back again, then into his hair. I felt the suppressed groan.
I scratched in the spot between his antlers and watched the pen fall from his fingers. He was still for the most part as I continued, now using both hands to scratch along the base of his ears.
When my fingers started to get tired, I dared a light touch down the back of his neck. His whole body shivered and his ears fell sideways instead of backwards like they usually did.
"You will be the death of me, my dear." He took my hand and placed another kiss on it.
As he looked up to meet my eyes, I came down to kiss him on the lips. His ears shot back up in surprise. My hand shook as I brought it up to touch his cheek, the exact same gesture he always did for me.
He grabbed the bottom of my chin and pulled away. "Is there something you are looking for, dear?" he asked sweetly.
Unbeknownst to him, I saw what he wanted from me. His nerves were just as high as mine but I felt his mind pulling me closer and closer.
"What I'm looking for is right in front of me." I moved to stand more in front of the chair, squished between it and the table with my legs against his, and put both hands on the armrests.
"Is that so, love?" He hooked a sharp claw under my chin to pull me closer. I leaned my weight on my arms as he drew me in for another kiss. His teeth dampened save for a set of canines so he could slip his tongue into my mouth. The word dominating came to mind.
His hand moved to the back of my head as the other grabbed at my waist, pulling hard. I put one knee on the side of the cushion to shift my weight off my arms. His hand on my head moved down to the other side of my waist and did the same. I swallowed my nerves, and some of his saliva, as I brought my other knee up so I was straddling him in a way.
My hands were on either side of his neck, right in the soft spot before his shoulder started, but his hands moved to the armrests. His claws punctured the wood as his tongue did all the pulling to keep us close.
I could hear his concerns, feel the effort it was taking, and see his eyebrows furrowed together. I grabbed his wrists, the surprise a jolt of energy between us, and moved them to my thighs just as he had done with my hands on his neck.
He pulled away from the kiss, breath heavy. "You mustn't feel pressured," he offered.
I rubbed my thumb across his cheek, earning a fleeting glance from his beady eyes, and answered with, "Read my thoughts, Al. I want to try again."
"Then you will show me what you desire, love. I will do nothing else."
I'm sure he meant it in a touching way, but it made me nervous to show him where I wanted him to try touching. Perhaps it was more embarrassment then anything.
He leaned off the back of the chair with his usual smile, lips a hair from my own and waiting. I pressed into the kiss as my hands moved up his neck and into his hair. This time he moaned. It made a strange twisting feeling in my gut, the vibrations reaching through my lips and into my head.
My tail wrapped several times around one of his legs as I pressed harder, shoving his head into the back of the chair. I carefully brought my claws down his neck, over the soft fabric, down his arms, and gripped his hands. I breathed into the kiss as I plucked them off my thighs and placed them on my back, under my shirt.
He splayed his hands so his entire palms were touching my skin. His claws felt cold but his palms felt insanely warm. I felt a different kind of heat suffocating my chest and daring to go lower.
I trust you not to hurt me. I sent him directly.
I couldn't imagine such a thing, my darling. He answered. Though when fleeting images of my first year with him came to the forefront, he added, Not anymore.
His palms moved methodically up and down my back, occasionally letting his claws leave a red line or two. Meanwhile I was fighting him with my equally long tongue. I had my hands behind his head as I tilted my own to the side to reach further in. All I was seeing was red and green. All I was feeling was hot warmth. All I was tasting was him.
The kissing turned aggressive once he bit my tongue enough to draw blood. He sucked on the sweet liquid before moving to my neck. His magic came a hair too late to dull the pain of the bite and as retaliation I squeezed his ear too hard. He winced and dulled the pain in appeasement, teeth still buried in my neck.
He licked up my blood as his claws dared to cause even more to spill. I put my own claws on the back of his neck, ready to puncture the vulnerable spot if he drew too much.
His arms suddenly wrapped around me and he stood. I instinctively wrapped my legs around him despite him carrying nearly my entire weight with ease. He moved to the bed and laid me on my back, attacking my neck once again. The pressure from his weight on my chest was a new feeling.
"Not all the way," I breathed.
Of course, my love, he answered. But your blood is oh so addicting.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Author's Note:
aaaaaaaahhhhhhhhh
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Taglist:
@wendigonamecaller @saccharine-nectarine @thesimpybitch @papas-ghoulette
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gay-wh0re-slut · 1 year
Note
Hi! Can you write some angst + NSFW ending with the prompt
“You think I wanted this to happen? You think I, of all people, wanted to fall in love with you? This is why I knew I shouldn’t have gotten close to you.”
oooohohohohooo this is a good oneeee
idk if i can think of a way of ending with this but maybe somewhere in the beginning or middle/end ish? i hope that’s alright? it’ll still be angsty tho don’t worryyyy (i hope) hehe but thank you for the request!!
after writing: i kinda broke up what you wanted to be said and added a few things, i hope that’s okay
Please
content: rhea ripley x fem reader, angst, NSFW but pretty vanilla unfortch :/ sorry friends
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Working backstage at WWE has its perks: getting to talk with the superstars, seeing how everything is put up and taken down, getting to go behind the scenes of the show; but it also has its downsides. You’re up late at night after the show taking everything down, cleaning up after everyone, making sure everything is put back in its place in the trucks to move to the next city. You’re always tired because of the schedule they have you on. Very rarely do you get time for yourself so you haven’t even thought of trying to have any kind of relationship.
Lately, you’ve been a bit on edge. Is it the lack of sleep? Probably. Is it the crush you have on THE Rhea Ripley when you swore to yourself you would never date a coworker? Most likely.
You’ve never voiced that you had this, but a lot of your coworkers have told you multiple times that you suck at hiding it. The way you stumble your words around her, or how your face gets red when she’s brought up in conversation, or how you refuse to talk to or about her in case of messing everything up. You’ve never had a crush last this long and it was eating you alive. It was hard to work sometimes because you would just stare, she was so captivating.
Unfortunately, one day the goth wrestler caught you staring and decided it would be a good idea to talk to you. “Hey, (y/n), you alright?”
“Huh?” your face became red, “oh yeah sorry, got caught in a daze.”
“Don’t apologize, I can tell you’re tired,” she sounded so caring, this was not helping your case, “they work you all too hard back here.”
You nervously laugh it off, “yeah, but that’s show biz.”
“Tell me about it,” she sighs, “You sure you’re okay?”
“Oh, psshh! Yeah totally,” you wave her pity away landing your hands on your hips.
“I know I’m scary looking but I’m always here if you want to talk. I know how it can be, trust me,” she takes out her phone, “let me get your number in case you want to chat.”
Oh god, oh fuck.
“Y-yeah for sure,” you hesitate grabbing the phone. You shake as you type your number in, you see that she already has your name typed out with the bubbles emoji next to it. “Why the bubbles?”
“You’re always bubbly,” she says casually with a small smile.
“Right,” you smile as you hand back the phone, “thank you.”
“For what?”
“Checking up on me.”
“Us tired people gotta stay together,” she laughs, “I’ll see ya around, yeah?”
“I’ll be here!” You give her a weak thumbs up as you watch her walk away.
“God,” you groan as you begin to fan yourself. You got nervously hot trying to muster up any sort of coherent sentence. Hopefully you didn’t sound too weird, you kinda blacked out for a second. “My number?!” you whisper to yourself, “that’s crazy.”
You could barely think about anything else the rest of the day constantly checking your phone to see if she texted you. Luckily, nothing happened. You were relieved when you went to the hotel that night and saw that she hadn’t texted you because that meant you couldn’t mess it up. You kept telling yourself that this was a silly crush that will go away soon…but you’ve said that for the past three months.
You didn’t realize the time until you heard your phone ding at 2:43am.
hey, it’s rhea
Of course her texts are all lowercase. You lay staring at the screen. Do you answer? Do you lie tomorrow and say that you actually fell asleep?
hey! what’s up
You decide to text back, what’s the use in lying, you thought.
i knew you’d be awake
you caught me
these hotel beds aren’t the best for people who can’t sleep huh
idk mine’s pretty comfy
Was that flirting? You weren’t sure, but hopefully she didn’t take it that way. The last thing you need is for her to start having a crush on you.
damn, you’re lucky. maybe i should come sleep with you then haha
Oh no, what do I say? Yes? Is she joking? Surely she’s just joking…fuck.
if i’m lucky again, maybe the next hotel we can share a room
Oh yeah good save…totally not flirting.
sounds like a plan
good. well i’m going to try to sleep hopefully
me too, we both have a long travel day tomorrow
goodnight ripley
sleep well (y/n)
You’ve only just realized that you’ve been cheesing at your phone this whole interaction. She’s taken over your entire being.
It was now 3:15am and you had a flight at 7:30am, so you might as well just lay there with your eyes closed in hopes of getting some sort of rest.
The week has passed, it was Monday again. Though the show starts at seven at night, crew had to be there at ten in the morning to make sure everything was ready before the stars showed up at two. You and Rhea hadn’t texted much, just some hello’s here and there with a few how’s your day’s, though she was on your mind constantly.
As the time drew closer and closer for the australian to walk through the door, you avoided that door at all costs. You tried to do anything to get you away from her path to her dressing room. Sweeping, wiping, snacking, literally anything.
“How’s the bed?” her accent flew threw the air behind you.
“W-what?” you turn around quickly.
She meets your gaze and stops a few feet in front of you with her little booty shorts and big tshirt, no makeup with her beefy arms crossed, “did you get lucky?”
You widen your eyes as you were taken aback, trying to process what she just said for a good few seconds before you realize what she was talking about, “oh!” you sigh in relief, “sorry! Yeah, no, got the lumpiest in the whole building probably,” you chuckle.
“Damn, seems like we switched sides this time around-,” she smirked.
You cut her off before anything else could happen, “Ha! I guess so,” you take a carrot from the snack table and chomp down, “I- uh… gotta go mop… th-the back hallway, see you later!” you lied. You basically ran away from her. You’ve already mopped that hallway… twice. Something about her in the shorts and tshirt made you so nervous.
Time went on, the show went on, the audience left, and luckily you’ve avoided the buff goth the whole night successfully.
“Hey, (y/n), Rhea’s looking for you. She’s in her room,” one of the PA’s said, nervously, “she seems a bit upset.”
Oh no, was all you could think. Repeating it in your head with every step, getting louder and louder, until you finally reached her door. You take a long deep breath before knocking lightly.
“It’s open,” she yelled through the wood.
So you walk in, closing the door behind you, you stand right behind the threshold not wanting to go any closer. She was already back in her tshirt, but this time she was wearing sweatpants. Her makeup was still on though with her hair rough with sweat.
“Are you avoiding me?” she asked bluntly.
“No,” you answer a little too quickly.
“You sure? Cause it sure does seem like it,” her arms crossed with anger.
“I’m pretty sure,” you lie again.
“Then why haven’t I seen you all day?” she sneaks closer to you.
“I’ve been…working, it was busy today,” you step back.
“You just so happened to be extra busy today,” she stood wide in front of you, basically pushing you against the door.
You couldn’t think, she was so close you could smell the faint cologne she put on earlier that was left on the shirt. You settle for a small nod, holding your breath, hoping she would take that as an answer.
She didn’t, “I don’t believe you,” she growled.
“Well, I-”
“What? You think you can be friendly one day and the next you just completely ignore me?” she threw her hands up in surrender before landing them on her hips.
Your heart was beating a million miles a minute, you could barely breathe, “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t thin-”
“Yeah, you didn’t think. You didn’t think how I would feel, did you?” she stepped back a little as she turned away from you shaking her head.
You didn’t dare say anything.
A few moments passed of her staring at the wall with her jaw clenched and you plastered to the door deciding whether or not to make a run for it.
She dropped her chin to her chest with a big sigh, “look,” she started calmly, which was scarier than earlier somehow, “being me,” she gestured towards herself turning back to you, “it’s hard to make friends, so when you were one of the only people that were nice to me I thought we had something going.”
“Rhea…” you drop your guard, but only a little.
“Please,” she held her hand up and you shut your mouth immediately. “I try so hard to be nice to everyone. I’ve been betrayed so many times it’s hard to let the walls down.”
Now you’re the one stepping towards her in hopes of creating some sort of comfort.
“I don’t want to be let down again,” she admits.
“I understand,” you whisper.
She didn’t take the comfort, “How could you? Everyone loves you! I’ve never seen you not make a friend. You’re so nice and caring,” her voice raised again. “So when you didn’t talk to me all day, I knew it was something I did. And I can’t bare to have another ‘friend’, ” she air quoted, “leave me because of…me.”
Your heart sank at her words. You did think of her as a friend except you wanted her to be more than a friend, which was the problem. You scoured your brain thinking of something to say that would make her feel better, until it clicked.
“You think I wanted this to happen?” you finally say.
“What?” she barks.
“I like you, Rhea, a little too much actually,” your heart was beating indescribably fast.
She just stared in surprise.
“You think I, of all people, wanted to fall in love with you?”
“In lov-” she began to question.
“This is why I knew I shouldn’t have gotten close to you. I would’ve gotten too close and I was afraid that you wouldn’t love me back,” you finally admit with a sigh. Your eyes begin to form tears but you try your best to suck them back in.
The purple eyeshadow blinks. Without a second thought, she rushed towards you grabbing your face, pulling you in for a deep kiss. After a few seconds, you push her away. Piercing blue eyes were just as surprised as yours as if she didn’t know she was going to do that either.
Still holding your jaw, “I- I’m sorry. I shouldn’t hav-”
You pull her back in by her waist to kiss her once more. Your lips moving gracefully against hers. You knew the black lipstick was smearing, but you couldn’t care less. She gently walked you backwards towards the door with a small push to pin you against it. One of her hands found its way to your back pulling you in as close as possible. Heavy breaths filled the room as lips continued to dance.
Her hand sneaked its way to the button of your pants, “can I…” she panted.
You nod your head, “mhmm,” you whine, as you go back to kissing her.
She swiftly undoes the button and sneaks her hand in, but not in your underwear. She was gently caressing your center, when small moans fell out of you. Her free hand grabbed your neck and tilted your head to the side to allow her to kiss your neck, leaving black marks as she went.
“Is this okay?” the accent whispered.
“Yess,” you breathe, “do whatever…you want to me.”
“Oh?” she kisses up your neck between words, “how about…I just… give you a taste… of what could happen…then later…I’ll show you…what I can really do,” by now her pace has quickened and the familiar knot in your stomach is quickly being untangled.
You could only nod your head in response, not wanting to moan too loud in fear of someone hearing you from the other side of the door. Your lips catch hers once more as you whine into her mouth.
It didn’t take long for you to almost come undone. Your hips were slightly riding her hand as she moved perfectly against you, “that’s it, love, don’t hold back,” she held your neck a little harder than gentle, secure against the door.
The oxygen left your lungs and the knot finally loosened as you slammed your head against the door. “Fuuuck,” you moan. Your legs were weakening by the second as she tried her best to hold you up. You scratched your way down her back as she chuckled in your ear at the slight pain.
As you came back to earth, your lips met hers a few more times before she removed her hand and buttoned your pants back up for you.
She let you catch your breath still holding you against the door but her hands were now at your waist with most of her body flush with yours. “Now, do you want me to come to your room or you come to mine?”
“I thought you had the nice bed this time,” you breathe.
“Oh yeah,” she smirked knowing what the answer was already, “my room it is then. See you there,” she kissed you once more before removing herself from you. She grabs her bags and gestures towards the door.
You open the door and let her through, following behind her. “I’ll meet you at the hotel, I have to grab my stuff,” you walk the opposite way.
“Don’t take too long, or we’ll be up all night,” she winked towards you.
“See you soon, Ripley.”
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masonmyluv · 1 year
Text
Secret relationship- Fermín Lopez
Hello everyone! I decided to start writing about Fermin since he’s really hot 🥵 Hope you enjoy!
Mostly fluff in this story, some kissing and a lot of teasing, mentions of accident and blood, but nothing too bad
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"Fermin, what are you doing? Someone could see us" you whined as he dragged you behind a wall. "Just needed to kiss you before the game" he said, pecking your lips. "Okay you got your kiss, come on" you said, trying to push him away. "Noo..." he whined, lips moulding with yours in a passionate kiss. "Y/N, where are you? We have to take our places". "Fuck" you moaned, pushing Fermin away. "I'm coming" you replied. "I can't be mad at you because it's your first game in which you start. So good luck" you said, leaving to go with your co-worker.
Nobody knew about your relationship with the Barça player. Your colleagues in the media department always asked who was bringing you coffee almost every morning. And the Barça players always asked Fermin why did he have rosy cheeks or smiling a bit too much after a hard training.
"Camera ready?" Alex, your co-worker asked. "Yep. You?". "Sì. Let the game begin". It was the first time you got to revoked the game from the pitch, field cam as it was named. Obviously it was kind of dangerous, but you like to see the action from up close. That was until a player from Betis tackled the ball and slid into you. And to make it even worse, the ball hit Alex in the head. "Fucking hell" he moaned in pain. "You're bleeding. Hey! You gotta stop the game!" He shouted to the referee, but the game was resumed. "It's fine" you said, although your leg looked really bad. "Hey! Stop the game!" Alex kept shouting until the Betis goalkeeper noticed you two.
"Huh? Why did he stop?!" Gavi asked fuming. "Probably a fan fainted" Pedri shrugged. "Fuck no" Fermin groaned, making a run to where you where surrounded by the medical team. "Hey... what happened?" He asked, a hand on your shoulder. "Just an accident really" you said. "This job's dangerous eh?" The player who tackled you joked. "Apologise to her right now" Fermin said. "It's not a big deal. I get those all the time" he shrugged. "Yeah? What about I rip your leg in this game then?" Fermin turned defensive. "Fermin" you said. He turned to look at you, eyes flaming red. "Okay sorry... bitch" he mumbled the last part, but Fermin heard him and pushed him on the ground. "Fermin! Stop it" you said, but the Spaniard didn't listen to you. Both of the players got a yellow card for it and the medics helped you walk to the changing rooms.
"You're stupid" you told Fermin. "I agree" Gavi said. "Even I wouldn't do that—". "You would do it for your girlfriend" Fermin argued. "Girlfriend? Whose girlfriend is what???" The whole squad turned to look at you. "I... uh... we... you see..." you mumbled. "Y/N, my lovely girlfriend" Fermin said, smiling. "What no! We're not—".
"OOOOH!!!"
"Now I see everything!"
"Yeah me too"
"Why was he smiling after that hard training"
"And he's rosy cheeks too. He was meeting with Y/N"
You were completely confused. "It's okay. I'll Talk with your boss, explain the situation" Fermin's voice was calming you. "I thought... you're..." you still couldn't form a coherent sentence. "Fermin is in love" Ferran sang. "Yeah... I kinda am. With her by my side how can I not be?" He said making you blush. "It will be alright. I promise" Fermin said, pulling you aside. "I'm not sure" you said. "And if they kick you out, we have more time to spend together" he shrugged. You gave him a look. "Okay... I know this is important for you. I promise you won't lose your job because of me" he said. You caught Gavi's smirk and decided to give them something more to tease Fermin with.
"Ouch my leg" you moaned. "Are you alright? Sit here on the bench, love" Fermin panicked, putting your arm around his neck for support. "Aww look at them" Lewi said. "Shut up okay?" Fermin said irritated. "Can we go home?" You pouted. "Of course. Just let me take my things" he said, pecking your lips.
"Really you don't have anything to worry about. It's not like it's forbidden to date one the players" Pedri  said. "Not really I think. I just don't want people to go crazy over it" you said. "I promise we will only tease him, not you" Gavi said. "Okay I'm ready. Let's go" Fermin said, helping you up again. "Speedy recovery, Y/N" the squad said. "Thanks guys".
"I so love you, Fermin" you said when you were in his car, far from all the teasing. "I knew it. I love you too" he said, smiling into the kiss he gave you.
Hope you like it 🥰
Feedback is appreciated ☺️
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f1amboyant · 8 days
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↻ pick a fic and a different ship and I’ll tell you how I’d rewrite it for: The Worst Alpha and carcar:)
✄ what’s your editing process? (i loooove hearing about people's writing and editing processes)
✦ what was your easiest fic to write & your hardest?
💕💕
Hiiii, thank you for the ask 💕
-> ask me more
✄ what’s your editing process?
Interesting question! I'm gonna answer with my writing process a bit, because both are intertwined (and you said you love hearing about writing process, too 🫣)
So for short fics (under 2k I would say), I mostly write the whole thing in one or 2 sittings, with no plan, just an idea in my head. And when it's done I edit multiple times. A first reread to adjust some details here and there, make a few sentences flow better. And then I do a spelling check, with 2 different softwares because English is not my first language so I want to get it covered.
For longer fics, I plan the whole story, I plan the chapters, I plan the scenes. Then I write scene by scene, usually in order. For each scene, I first write it very badly. I write the scene, fast and bad, not caring about beautiful sentences. The idea is just to put words on the page and to block the scene (like in movies). When this part is done, I go back and I edit a first time, going over all this poorly written scene to write beautiful sentences (or as beautiful as I can do), to make it readable, basically. Then, since it's a long fic and that some ideas might have pop up in the middle of nothing, I do one or 2 full reread, to adjust everything, make sure everything is coherent, make sure the character doesn't realise he is in love 3 times in 3 different chapters, go back to foreshadow an idea that popped in a later chapter, things like that. And then I can do a spell check on each chapter and that's it! ✨
✦ what was your easiest fic to write & your hardest?
Easiest: Corset ~ The words just flew out of me, and it greatly helped that @moossings worked on their drawing at the same time as I wrote, so I just had to put their sketches into words and that was so much fun.
Hardest: Steal your art (and your heart) ~ The first chapters were so much fun and so easy to write, I wasn't prepared for the enormous block that fell on me halfway through it. Writing the last chapters was so so hard, for no particular reason. I was lucky I had my dear @drspleenmeister writing with me 🫶
↻ pick a fic and a different ship and I’ll tell you how I’d rewrite it for: The Worst Alpha and carcar:)
Oooooooh, that's an interesting one. The Worst Alpha is omagaverse charlos, with alpha Charles experiencing omega Carlos' heat for the first time and having a whole crisis about if he is or not a good alpha. And truly, I think Oscar would fit that role pretty well too.
Oscar is an Alpha who grew with omega sisters. He knows what it is to be an omega. In theory. But he's never been with an omega. So it's all pretty new. And also, he has this massive crush on Carlos, because damn, have you seen that man?? Oscar was doomed from the start. But he's trying to act like a good alpha and not get overbearing with the omega he fancies, so he stays mostly away.
Then Lando shenanigans, probably. Maybe Lando does it on purpose or maybe not, but it makes Carlos and Oscar meet. Maybe, Carlos is in heat, and he usually goes to omega Lando for comfort during his heat but Lando isn't answering. And when Carlos goes to Lando's room, he finds Oscar there because Oscar is waiting for Lando to return too (maybe Lando asked him over and then forgot, or something like that).
It hits Oscar. The smell. Powerful. And so so sweet. Mouthwatering. Oscar is losing his fucking mind.
"Oh sorry, I thought this was Lando's room."
"You're in heat."
"Pff, this guy," Carlos huffs. "I know, that's why I'm looking for Lando."
"He's not here," Oscar answers unhelpfully, but his brain is completely fried. There's Carlos in the room with him. Carlos in heat. Oscar is gonna die.
"Well, tell him to call me if you see him."
Carlos starts to leave but Oscar stops him.
"Do you need help? With your heat? Until Lando comes back," Oscar offers.
"Sure." Carlos has never been with an Alpha before but this one smells pretty nice and also, he is tired of waiting for Lando, so why not? He's not afraid of a little Alpha rookie.
So they spend a little time together, in Lando's room. It's awkward as fuck. Carlos borrows a hoodie from Lando and sits on the couch, to play some game. Oscar stays with him and offers to help, getting him heat supplies that he steals from Lando (he doesn't care). He doesn't really know what to do, how to feel. It's never been like that in his family. Oscar is a pretty decent Alpha, but he never had to fight the urge to bend this Omega in half and fuck him senseless. But yeah, that's what's happening now. He is losing his mind.
He keeps his wit enough to half ass taking care of Carlos until Lando comes back and saves them from the awkwardness. Except after that Oscar can't stop thinking about it, can't stop thinking about Carlos. If he had a crush before, this gets to another level entirely because now, he knows what Carlos in heat smells like and it's too much for him. Too much to stay away. So he tries to get close, to court him very awkwardly (and never saying officially it is courting). And maybe in his quest to get closer to Carlos, he also crashes with him on track a little too much (oops 🤭).
They're not exactly becoming friends but they're getting closer. And Carlos isn't entirely immune to this awkward Alpha who's courting him, without courting him. It's cute. And he likes him more and more.
So his next heat, he doesn't go to Lando, he goes to see Oscar (Oscar once again losing his fucking mind as he refrains all instincts to fuck/mate/breed with the beautiful Omega). And again and again. They spend more time together, spending heats together. But nothing happens. They just cuddle a little, play games. They talk too, getting to know each other.
Until Carlos says he would like to try spending his heat having sex, because it can be fun and a very good time (Oscar definitely loses his mind at that). They almost kiss already, just talking about it, grinding against each other (Oscar is losing his mind, definitely). They agree to have sex next heat.
Next heat comes. Oscar is beyond excited, he cannot wait to be with Carlos again. But he sees Carlos with another Alpha (Charles, or Max, maybe). And the two are not flirting exactly, but they are not keeping their distance either. And with Carlos being in pre-heat, this could really be courting.
Oscar is devastated. He thought he was a good Alpha, but apparently he's the worst because Carlos is choosing someone else, and why wouldn't he choose someone else. So Oscar spirals out of him mind, while Carlos' heat hits and it's way stronger than before and without Oscar there to help him, Carlos is losing his mind too but for a whole other reason.
So a little bit of misunderstanding, and an intervention from Lando before they finally get together and it's all better, it's all okay. And their first time is awkward as fuck but so hot and Oscar is the worst Alpha but he doesn't care because apparently, Carlos loves it (him).
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icy-watch · 7 months
Text
Well, I have emotions and thoughts and feelings.
I don't think I can properly put everything down in a coherent string of sentences, but I'm going to try.
Nya is officially the ocean now. I don't really know how she's going to be involved in the next season, especially if she doesn't really remember anything.
And there's only 1 season left of Ninjago left, so they wouldn't really get rid of her, would they?
She's gotta be involved somehow. I just don't know how.
So many people came to her funeral. Like, half of Ninjago was there. That's so different from Zane's funeral back in s3. Maybe they'll build a statue for her? That'd be nice.
I don't even
Words are hard rn. I'm gonna go to bed, and try to be more coherent tomorrow when I'm less likely to sob any time I look at a cookie or a cup of water. I'll post my correct and incorrect predictions then as well. Until then!
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dk-thrive · 9 months
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Writing is thinking, but it’s thinking slowed down — stilled —
... And that’s one of the arguments for writing well — for taking the time and summoning the focus to do so. Good writing burnishes your message. It burnishes the messenger, too.
You may be dazzling on your feet, an extemporaneous ace, thanks to the brilliant thoughts that pinball around your brain. There will nonetheless be times when you must pin them down and put them in a long email. Or a medium-length email. Or a memo. Or, hell, a Slack channel. The clarity, coherence, precision and even verve with which you do that — achieving a polish and personality distinct from most of what A.I. spits out — will have an impact on the recipients of that missive, coloring their estimation of you and advancing or impeding your goals.
If you’re honest with yourself, you know that, because you know your own skeptical reaction when people send you error-clouded dreck. You also know the way you perk up when they send its shining opposite. And while the epigrammatic cleverness or audiovisual genius of a viral TikTok or Instagram post has the potential to shape opinion and motivate behavior, there are organizations and institutions whose internal communications and decision-making aren’t conducted via social media. GIFs, memes and emojis don’t apply.
When my friend Molly Worthen, a history professor at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill and a frequent contributor to Times Opinion, took the measure of the influential diplomat Charles Hill for her 2006 book “The Man on Whom Nothing Was Lost,” she noted that a principal reason for his enormous behind-the-scenes influence was his dexterity with the written word. He took great notes. He produced great summaries. He made great arguments — on paper, not just on the fly.
Worthen noted in her book that “transmitting ideas into written words is hard, and people do not like to do it.” As a result, someone who performs that task gladly, quickly and nimbly “in most cases ends up the default author, the quarterback to whom others start to turn, out of habit, for the play.”
Good writing announces your seriousness, establishing you as someone capable of caring and discipline. But it’s not just a matter of show: The act of wrestling your thoughts into logical form, distilling them into comprehensible phrases and presenting them as persuasively and accessibly as possible is arguably the best test of those very thoughts. It either exposes them as flawed or affirms their merit and, in the process, sharpens them.
Writing is thinking, but it’s thinking slowed down — stilled — to a point where dimensions and nuances otherwise invisible to you appear....
I think you can take the “pen and paper” out of the equation — replace them with keystrokes in a Google Doc or Microsoft Word file — and the point largely holds. That kind of writing, too, forces you to concentrate or to elaborate. A tossed-off text message doesn’t. Neither do most social media posts. They have as much to do with spleen as with brain.
What place do the traditional rules of writing and the conventional standards for it have in all this? Does purposeful, ruminative or cathartic writing demand decent grammar, some sense of pace, some glimmer of grace?
Maybe not. You can write in a manner that’s comprehensible and compelling only or mostly to you. You can choose which dictums to follow and which to flout. You’re still writing.
But show me someone who writes correctly and ably — and who knows that — and I’ll show you someone who probably also writes more. Such people’s awareness of their agility and their confidence pave the way. Show me someone who has never been pressed to write well or given the tutelage and tools to do so and I’ll show you someone who more often than not avoids it and, in avoiding it, is deprived of not only its benefits but also its pleasures.
Yes, pleasures. I’ve lost count of the times when I’ve praised a paragraph, sentence or turn of phrase in a student’s paper and that student subsequently let me know that the passage had in fact been a great source of pride, delivering a jolt of excitement upon its creation. We shouldn’t devalue that feeling. We should encourage — and teach — more people to experience it.
— Frank Bruni, from "A.I. or no A.I., it pays to write — and to write well" (NY Times, December 21, 2023)
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