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#i like the colors and i like the idea of them plopping down on the ground
dancinghannigram · 2 years
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'tis the season 🎃🍂🍁
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hyuny-bunny · 4 months
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skz + s/o with long nails
can't sleep and i need to get this thought out before it makes my head explode
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MDNI (18+) suggestive ideas, mutual masterbation, oral, nail markings
skz x gn!reader
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chan: at first he's indifferent. it makes no difference to him, you might've kept short or no nails to start with while dating him. it isn't till you try out a new spot that leaves you with the best set you've ever had, that he starts to take more notice. especially when his back scratches take a whole new level. he's twitching his leg like a dog when you go too light on him finding it ticklish, he's begging you to scratch him harder. his mind starts to run wild at the thought how it would feel to have your nails clawing at his back during sex as he pounds into you.
minho: he loves your nails. he finds them so cute on you, especially when their pointed like a cat claw. he's not one to comment his thoughts on what you should do but he loves the way your hands look with baby pinks or milk white shades. his cats seem to enjoy them as much as you do when they surround you begging to be scratched next. he really finds out how much he loves them when you're going down on him as his thank you for paying for the new set, when you're clawing down on his thighs. he can't help admire how pretty they look while you sit perched between his thighs as stroke him into your mouth.
changbin: he loves everything about you but the nails he just doesn't quite get. how are you supposed to lift weights when you can't even close your hand into a fist :( ? nevertheless he pampers his partner!! so of course he's putting his card down for you to pay for your new set or sending you the money to pay for them (then some more incase it's a long session and you need to grab food). he's a changed man when he sees the new set. your nail tech found a cute way to put his intials on the ring fingers of your nails. he's posting and sending everyone a photo of your nail set with your hands wrapped around his bicep. he knows that all you need is a ring to complete it.
hyunjin: love love love LOVES your nails. everytime there's an appointment coming up soon, he's already asking what you're getting. he'll send you some ideas, a lot of it might be douyin style but he loves anything you decide on. aside from loving the way they look, he also loves the way they feel. his insta photos might be filled with your hands in shot with coffee or selfies he's taken while's you held his face or gave his cheeks a squish. either way he knows that you know when he plops down into your lap or chest, he's demanding head and back scratches. he's purring like a cat in your lap with every movement but will immediately whine if you stop too soon.
jisung: don't care as long you're dedicating an hour or two to play with his hair after a fresh set. colors make no difference to him but he gets weak in the knees when you come home with red nails. his mind taking him to filth places of having your hand stroking him, how pretty your hands look in with his cum painting your nails. he's always offering to pay for your nails, on the condition that you always do red which you're typically happy to oblige anyways.
felix: there has to be something based in fact for me to confidently say he also more than happy to have you scratch his head, back, anywhere that you possibly feel he might enjoy because he is actually a cat. a very cuddly one that's purring with every scratch across his skin. he loves the set ideas you come up with but especially loves when you incorporate hints of blue in your nails because you know it's his signature color. makes him feel like it's proof that you belong to him in a way that only he needs to know. his only thing to pick at is you can't be as handsy with baking with him when you have longer nails :/ buts that's okay when you make it up by playing with his hair, putting it in pretty braids and giving him neck & chin scratches.
seungmin: also someone who seems in different. he might get annoyed every time you accidentally poke him too hard from a new set. he'd tease you for the way your nails sound while you type but it's all in good fun. another one who's twitching his leg like a puppy every time you scratch his back or head. oh how he could lay like that forever. another one to soft launch you on his insta with shot of your hand on his knee at a baseball game or intertwined while having a romantic dinner. he once again doesn't mind and even learns to appreciate the way your nails rake through his hair. how they feel when your trying pry him out from between your thighs tugging on his hair for dear life.
jeongin: he loves your long nails, he loves it even more when you take him with you to get your nails done together. he's not passing on opportunity to get matching manicures. he loves to see you venture off with colors. when you opt to get a forrest green french tip set, he's right there asking for his pinky nails to be painted in the same green polish. he's posting a picture of your intertwined hands with your matching polish. he's down bad for you and everyone knows it. you can't blame him when you're the same for him. it's all he thinks about when you're both laid next to each other in bed with his hand in your underwear and your hand wrapped around him stroking him so prettily, toying with one another and matching polish adorning your hands.
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misctf · 5 months
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A Surprise Gift
“Are you fucking for real dude?” Jim slammed the door to their apartment and stumbled toward the couch, “I was this close.” He sat down and stared daggers at his roommate.
“She wasn’t interested bro.” Eric replied, “You were acting like a fucking creep.” Jim muttered a few curse words under his breath, “Sober up.” He tossed him a water bottle.
“Fucking cock blocker.” Jim whined before chugging the water, “She would’ve been lucky to...”
“You say that about everyone. Its gross man.” Eric sighed, “Look, I’m going to bed. You should too. And clean up the kitchen tomorrow. I’m tired of all the dishes in the sink.” Jim shot him another dirty look and stumbled to his bed.
“Fucking asshole.” Eric mumbled, hoping to forget this stupid night out. 
_______
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The next morning, Eric stumbled out of his room in just a pair of gray boxers. It was Sunday and he had a few things he needed to get done- mainly study for an upcoming exam and exercise. And of course, Jim was up playing videogames.
“Did you start on the dishes?” Jim glared at Eric, and before they could continue bickering, someone knocked on their door.
Jim mumbled something about it being too early, as Eric walked over and opened the door. Sitting in front of the door was a white box, addressed to Jim.
“Hey Jim, you got something.” Eric said, placing the box on the counter, “Any idea what it might be?”
Jim smirked, “Probably from one of my admirers.” He chucked, walking over and tearing open the box, “See dude, this is what happens when you... what the fuck?”
Eric couldn’t help but laugh at the contents of the box. Whoever left it had a sense of humor. There were several dick shaped lollipops, all of various sizes and colors. Jim looked mortified as he inspected them.
“Was this you dude?”
“Wasn’t me.” Eric replied, walking over and inspecting the contents, “Maybe someone’s trying to tell you something. You gonna try one?”
“No fucking way man.” Jim grimaced in disgust, “This mouth doesn’t suck dick. I’m throwing this shit out.”
Eric chuckled, “I’m not that insecure about my sexuality.” He said with a grin, plopping one of the lollipops in his mouth, “Besides, don’t you like doing it with guys too?”
Jim smirked, “I get sucked or I fuck. Not the other way around. I’m not some hole.”
Eric wanted to call Jim an asshole, but was at a loss for words. The flavor of the lollipop was intense, coating his mouth with an intoxicating sweetness. He began sucking vigorously on the lollipop, earning him a look from Jim.
“Yo dude, you enjoying that?” Jim chuckled.
Eric’s eyes widened, “Damn,” He chucked in embarrassment, “It’s pretty good.” He looked at the time though and sighed, “Shit I need to get ready. Finish those dishes, okay?”
But the rest of the day just didn’t feel right to Eric. Likely from the booze he told himself. His workout was shitty and even studying felt useless. Material he mastered was almost as confusing as when he first started. Feeling defeated, he headed back to his apartment.
“Hey man, what’s up?” Jim asked, his eyes never leaving the TV.
“Not much, just feeling off.” Eric replied, absent mindedly grabbing another lollipop and sucking on it, “Just gonna get ready for bed and start fresh tomorrow.” He stumbled to his room, collapsing onto his bed and drifting to sleep.
_______
The next morning brought no relief. In fact, Eric felt worse. As he stared at himself in the bathroom mirror, he noticed things were off. Maybe it was the lighter color of his hair, or the fact that his triceps and biceps looked less swole. Same with his pecs and legs for that matter. He poked at his pec and grimaced. It felt less firm, almost as if the muscle behind them was breaking down.
“I just need to work out.” He mumbled.
He threw on a pair of his shorts and a t-shirt, noticing that they seemed baggy on him compared to their usual tight fit. He probably fucked them up in the laundry. But he was running late- he didn’t have time to worry.
“See yA lAter!” He called out to Jim- his voice cracking, which caused him to turn red with embarrassment.
Jim raised an eyebrow and watched as Eric grabbed another lollipop, “Hey dude, maybe...” But before he could say anything, Eric was gone.
_______
Eric sighed as he returned to the apartment later that day, feeling defeated. He couldn’t focus on the review session his professor was leading. Every time he looked up, he couldn’t help but stare at some of the men in his class. More specifically their muscular arms, sexy smiles, and facial hair. While Eric never seemed to notice those things before, it was all he could focus on during class.
“Hey mAn.” Why the fuck did his voice keep cracking?
Jim looked over at Eric, “Woah dude, you don’t look so good.” He walked over to his roommate. Eric blushed when he noticed Jim wearing nothing but a pair of boxers.
He must’ve just worked out. Eric could smell his musk and couldn’t help but notice how big his arms appeared. The heat from his body was radiating, and without thinking, Eric placed a hand on his roommate’s large pec. It felt so good- so firm in his grasp.
“Woah dude, what the fuck?” Eric’s hand shot to his side. He looked down, deep in thought and trying to make sense of his actions.
Before Jim could speak again, Eric grabbed another lollipop and fled to his room, slamming the door and collapsing onto bed, tears stinging at his eyes.
_______
The following morning, Eric awoke and daintily hopped out of bed and sauntered to the bathroom. He found himself needing to pull up his boxers to prevent them from sliding off his skinny waste. When Eric rubbed the sleep from his eyes and stared in the mirror, he jumped.
“Wh-what the fuck?” He whispered, his voice more high pitched and feminine, “Where’d my pit hair go?” He mumbled raising an arm above his head, “Fuck what happened to my muscles?” Tears threatened to fall from his eyes. 
His hard earned muscles- tokens of his masculinity- all seemed to have shrunk down to nothing. His abs that he worked so hard on were gone, replaced by a thin layer of fat. He spent years working to get his body to peak athletic performance. Even a few days of underperformance at the gym shouldn’t have reversed his hard earned gains. He needed to get help... Jim could help him, right? Jim always looked good. So muscular and manly. Eric shook his head and took a few deep breaths.
“I kinda look like the guys Jim brings home” He whispered, a strange pride rising from within him, “I-I need to talk to Jim”, He left to find Jim. But as he did, he noticed the dishes still piled in the sink, “Hmm I should take care of those for Jim. He works so hard.” He thought, deviating from his path and grabbing another lollipop. If he was going to do the dishes, he might as well treat himself.
And when he finally finished, he treated himself to another lollipop. Barely remembering why he wanted to talk, he went to knock on Jim’s door. But the sound coming from the other side stopped him- the unmistakable sound of some porn video. And he could hear his roommate moaning.
With each masculine moan, Eric’s mind was melting. Why was some porno making Jim moan like that? Especially when he could make Jim moan like that? The thought of pleasing Jim... it was intoxicating. And as these thoughts violated his mind, he reached down and massaged his ass. He imagined Jim- his sweaty body, his big muscles, his huge dick- grabbing and slapping his ass And as he teased his asshole, Eric’s eyes began to widen- what the fuck was he thinking?  
He scurried back to his room, forgetting that he had an exam today. Instead, he sat there, sucking on another lollipop, and trying to make sense of what was happening to him. All the while, unaware that his ass was starting to fatten up as his dick shrank.  
_______
Eric stumbled out of his room a few hours later, hungering for another lollipop. His ass was massive now- nearly spilling out of his tight boxers. At least they weren’t loose anymore. But his gait had shifted too. He would never be able to walk again without showing off his ass with his sexy saunter. No one would ignore it- especially not Jim.
“Dude...” Jim said, looking up from his videogame, “Fuck...”
Eric’s face turned red, “Dude, I don’t...” He tried to find another lollipop but they were gone, “Bro! What happened to all the...?”
“You ate them all.” Jim said, walking over to Eric, “Shit, what happened to you dude?”
But Eric was near tears, “I need those lollipops, please.” He whined, “They’re so good.” And without a second thought, he wrapped his arms around Jim’s muscular torso and sobbed into his pecs.
Jim smirked. Since when was Eric so short? And damn, when did his ass get so fuckable? The jock cupped Eric’s chin and stared deeply into his eyes.
“Eric, I don’t know what happened to you.” He said with a grin, “But if you wanna suck cock so bad, why settle for those stupid lollipops?”
Eric looked up at him with wide eyes, unable to reply. Jim slowly pushed Eric to his knees, never breaking eye contact. And Eric, despite the voice in the back of his head screaming for him to stop, pulled down Jim’s shorts. His roommate’s monster of a cock slapped him in the face.
“Go on.” Jim encouraged, “I think you owe me for all the times you cock blocked me. Right roomie?”  
And with that, Eric wrapped his lips around Jim’s thick cock. The sensation was even more intoxicating than the lollipops. It filled his mouth- the saltiness dancing across his taste buds, while the smell of Jim’s manly musk invaded his nostrils. Eric’s eyes rolled into the back of his head as Jim thrust his cock deeper and deeper into his formerly straight roommate’s throat. And with each thrust, Eric’s hair became lighter and lighter- until settling on platinum blond. At the same time, Eric’s mind was breaking down. His interest in sports disintegrated- he would email his coaches that he was quitting the team. His desire to succeed in school was replaced by a need to suck and get fucked- he would drop out of school tomorrow. Any decency or respect he commanded was drowned in a sea of lust- a need for cock. Any cock, anywhere. Eric’s eyes became vacant and glazed over as the remainder of his intelligence, kindness, and ambition disappeared into the void. And when Jim caught the dull, submissive, slutty look in his roommate’s eyes, he came.
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_______
It had been a few weeks since then and Eric continued to serve his sexy roommate. Jim would go to practice and classes, while Eric would take care of things around the apartment. And when Jim would return, Eric was happy to provide him with either his mouth or ass. Sure, it was a surprise to when he came out as gay. And an even bigger surprise when he dropped out of college. But Eric hadn’t a care in the world. Just a hole- as Jim called him.
As he spent another day cleaning up after Jim, he heard a knock at the door.
“OMG is Scott here already?” Eric sang. Jim was nice enough to let the other members of the team use Eric when they needed. But Eric was disappointed to find just a letter addressed to him, “Hmm okay then.” He whined, opening it.
His vacant eyes read through the letter. Something about an apology. That those lollipops were meant to teach Jim a lesson for using others as nothing more than holes. That this wasn’t what they wanted. That there could be a way to reverse this. Eric giggled- a voice screaming from within his mind to reverse it. To call the number left on the letter and return him to his prior self. But Eric shrugged and tore the letter- the voice in the back of his head now sobbing.
“Reverse this?” He giggled, “Not a chance.”
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girlboypersonthingy · 6 months
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Hi yes i saw hazbin requests were open??? Anything involving pining Lucifer. Or lucifer seeing reader dressed super nice for like a fancy party or something (full makeup, fancy revealing dress, that sorta thing) for the first time. Maybe feelings are revealed? I’m a sucker for pining
I love that we are all so disgustingly thirsty for this man. He deserves it ❤️‍🔥 but seriously tho…all my Lucifer posts have gotten at least 100 likes in the first day that they’re posted. Like damn yall, we need to talk about our husband more! We all have such good taste 😌 I love our little short king. Thanks for the request. Enjoyyyyyyy~
Notes: fem!reader, reader wears a dress in this one
TW: suggestive themes, hardcore pining, heavy making out
🪽The King of Pining🪽
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This morning, Charlie invited everyone to the lobby of the hotel, shouting out that she had great news and a wonderful idea. Husk and Angel grumble about their annoyance with it being too early in the morning and them being way too sober for group activities right now as they plop down on one of the couches. The rest of the group files in, finding spots to relax as Charlie bounces up and down in her spot, bitting her lip and clenching her fists out of pure excitement. You follow along, deciding to stay standing and a bit behind the group, glancing back to see Lucifer coming to join the pack, standing just behind the couch that sat Vaggie and Nifty. You stare at him for a moment and when he finally glances your way, you offer him a sleepy smile and a quick wave of your hand. A small smirk finds its way to his lips as he nods his head at you, quickly looking away after.
“So…what’s the news?” Vaggie finally speaks up once everyone is settled and all eyes are on Charlie standing front and center. “Sooooooo, I had a brilliant idea that will be equally fun and beneficial to the hotel. Ready? Ready for it?” Charlie looks around the group, looking as if she might burst into flames of enthusiasm any moment now. “WE ARE GONNA HOST A BALL!!!”
Angel smirks as he nudges Husk beside him. “Heh, balls.” “She said ‘ball’, jackass. Singular.” Husk spits back, rolling his eyes as he scoots away from Angel a bit.
“It’ll attract new recruits for the hotel! We can mingle, talk about all we have to offer. AH! It’s gonna be soooooo funnnnnn.” Charlie is yelling now, she can’t control herself in the slightest.
Charlie goes into explaining the details- it is to be a huge party with a formal dress code that everyone and anyone is invited to. It’ll be here at the hotel, with an open bar (Husk wants to die) and music! The group lets out noises of mixed emotions, Nifty and Angel shouting out of excitement and anticipation while Husk and Alastor both let out noises of dread. You, on the other hand are nervous but looking forward to having a fun night and getting to know the hotel staff and residents better. As Charlie’s speech ends, the group begins to disperse and talk amongst themselves.
You watch as Charlie approaches Vaggie, shyly dropping to her knees in front of her on the couch so that they are eye level with each other. “Will you…be my date to the ball, Vags?” You can’t help but smile as you watch Vaggie laugh, her cheeks and nose slowly changing color. “Of course, you goofball. You’re my partner. There’s no one else I’d rather go with.” They share a long hug, a beautiful positive energy radiating off of them.
“They’re just adorable, aren’t they?” The low, charming voice that sounds right next to you causes you to flinch a bit, now turning to see the king of hell himself standing beside you. “Oh! Hey. Yeah. They are pretty cute. They make a great couple.” You look back to the two girls holding hands and giggling but Lucifer keeps his eyes on you, taking this opportunity while you’re distracted to examine all the little details of your face up close. Hopefully no one else catches sight of him in this moment of utter hopeless romanticism.
When he finally snaps out of it, he lets out a sigh before putting on his best smile, clearing his throat just to get your attention again. “Speaking of great couples~” And as soon as your eyes land on him again, your lips curved up ever so slightly, his courage quickly leaves him. Lucifer freezes for a moment, mouth going dry as he tried to find a way out of this. Say something you idiot.
“I-I ha! I uh…I wonder what other great couples we’ll see at this party. Maybe some of hell’s highest royalty?” Nervous chuckles just keep rolling from his lips and he’s really hoping you don’t notice the way his hands are shaking as they rest on his cane. One of his trembling hands comes to the collar of his shirt, lightly yanking it down as if that would help bring air back to his lungs, the air you’ve sucked out of him with one simple glance.
“Hm. Yeah. Maybe.” You reply plainly, looking back to Vaggie and Charlie and before you can converse with Lucifer any further, he’s walking off with his tail between his legs, eyes wild and full of doubt. “You’ll be there. You are the king of hell after all, I’m sure everyone will be too focused on you and Charlie to notice any other royals. Are you uhm…planning on going with anyone?” You ask, still watching the two girls near the couch. Your voice stops Lucifer in his tracks, making him pause for a moment as he listens. He turns slowly back to you, wearing a bashful smile as he tucks both his arms behind his back.
“No, actually. I hadn’t even thought of it.” He lies, watching as you finally pull your gaze from his daughter and relax it on him. He slowly saunters back your way, unable to control his wandering eyes. “And what about you? Do you have anyone in mind that you’d want to go with?” And now his nervousness is rubbing off on you, making your voice shake as you respond. “Me? No, no…I’ll probably just tag along with uh…”
As you look around the room, it seems all couples have already paired up. Vaggie and Charlie sat on the couch still, Charlie’s legs strewn over her girlfriend’s lap. Angel and Husk seemed to be having a bit of an argument over what they will wear together. Angel wants to wear all pink but Husk is like FUCK NO. Even Sir Pentious was trembling in front of Cherri, as he looked to he asking her out. Obviously, Alastor is bringing his shadow along. That’s kind of a date…right?
“Uhm I mean, who knows? Maybe I’ll meet someone there.” The pride that inflated Lucifer’s chest just seconds ago seems to suddenly be punctured and drained by your lack of acknowledgment to his flirty hints. He wants to ask you to be his so badly it’s making his chest hurt now. Not his for the night, not his during the party, his all the time, any time he needs you. As he opens his mouth to speak, he hesitates and then decides to let out a heavy sigh instead. “Well..I will see you there.” And with the tip of his head, he finally turned and left you standing alone in a herd of conversing couples.
~night of the party~
You figured there’s no harm in showing up fashionably late tonight. At least, that was your excuse for showing up late. In reality, you were fully ready before the ball even started but your legs were so weak and shaky, you couldn’t find the strength to get yourself out there. So instead, you’re sitting in your room, fully clad in your nicest dress along with some accessories, sunken into your plush bed as you try to steady your breathing. Maybe if I stay here long enough in this dress, I can just say I was there but not actually go…
A knock on your door has you straightening up in your spot, a warm surprised feeling lighting up your chest. “Come in.” You respond, wondering just who was coming to see you right now. You assumed it was Angel trying to get you to come out and start partying with him. To your surprise, the princess of hell pops her cheerful little face inside your room.
“(Y/N)! I was wondering when you’d be coming…out…there. Oh my gosh! You look so gorgeous EEEEE!” Charlie steps into your room now, her big yellow eyes shining with enthusiasm and hope as she fangirls over your getup. “Oh, thank you. You look stunning yourself.” Charlie watches your eyes fluttering all around the room, unable to focus. “Yeah…I’m coming. Just…feeling anxious I guess.” Taking a deep breath, you finally stand, straightening out your dress and checking your hair in a mirror quickly. “Oh stop it! You look flawless, (Y/N). Let’s go have some fun.” Charlie quickly links arms with you and drags you out to the lobby full of people, lights and music.
Within just a few minutes of joining the party, you find yourself looking around a sea of strangers all on your own. Seems the princess of hell has a line of guests wanting to meet and greet with her. Understandable, but you’re starting to get overwhelmed. You’re desperately looking for a familiar face, needing a buddy to help you feel included and secure. As you swim through sinners and other residents of hell, head turning side to side, you finally spot Lucifer after nearly an hour of wandering around alone.
Sure, His typical white suit is nice, very flattering on him. But, oh boy, did he look fantastic tonight, heavenly even. For this special occasion, Lucifer was dressed in a deep red suit with accents of white and no hat, instead sporting his pretty, slicked back blonde hair. You’re not quick to rush to him, I mean are you trying to look desperate and pathetic? No, just stay calm. But once again, you two share a glance from afar and give each other a small wave of the hand. Lucifer looks…pained. He looks like he might just collapse to his knees and start vomiting. His shift in body language causes your smile to drop, your expression shifting to one of concern as you mouth to him ‘you okay?’.
From Lucifer’s point of view, the room became silent, empty, dimly lit with you there at the center of it all under this glowing golden ray of light. You looked angelic, innocent and sweet, elegant but also nervous and out of place and adorable and fuck it, he can’t wait. He nearly pushes the sinner trying to talk to him aside, rushing to you as his brain became overloaded with ideas of what to say to you.
With each and every stride he takes, your cheeks flush deeper shades of red. With every step, his knees begin to feel more and more like jelly. Finally, he’s joined you in the spotlight, the rest of the party fading away before both of your eyes as you stand just inches apart. Now, it’s all wandering eyes and heavy breathing from both of you. Licking your lips first, you force words out to break this awful silence.
“Wow! Y-you clean up well. You look nice, Luci.” As your voice reaches his ears, his dream-like state abruptly ended. The room floods with loud music, chatty people and bright lights again. He seems to perk up at your compliments, feeling like a dog in heat as his eyes travel up and down your lovely outfit. You watch as his eyes finally leave your waist and come up to meet your own gaze.
“Holy hell. You look absolutely divine.” He scoffs quietly, wondering how an angel like you ended up down here. “Oh, Lucifer.” You swat a hand at him and you can feel your face burning up, sweat starting to form on your upper lip and forehead. “Stop it. You flatter me.”
Lucifer looked as if he might pass out, becoming more and more flustered the more you blush. Although, a pleased smirk graces his face because oh~ you like when he flirts with you, huh? It’s okay, he’s hella into you too.Together, you’re just a ticking time bomb of gushy feelings and sexual tension. He figures if he wants to have any chance of confessing his feelings to you tonight, his best option is to lead you out of the way and put a little distance between you two and the crowd. So, he reaches out and gently takes your hand, pulling you along to the now vacant bar with an extremely forced and up tight grin.
Husk is standing behind the counter, looking not as irritated as you’d thought he would tonight. Luci pulls out a stool for you, gesturing for you to sit before he does because he’s a gentleman and ladies always go first. “Hey. Whatcha want, doll?” Husk ask you first, giving you a wink after you answer. “And for you, sir?” He eyes Lucifer who shakes his head, politely refusing his offer. As Husk begins whipping up your drink, yet another tense silence falls between you two.
“Are you having a good time?” The blonde finally speaks up, side eyeing you. “Eh. I’m not a big party person. I’m not a fan of big crowds either so…not really.” At long last, your unhappy and disappointed attitude brings all of Lucifer’s courage and gall to his mouth. Now’s his chance. “Let’s get out of here then.” He blurts out as Husk slides your drink to you, the bartender giving you an awkward look. “What? But all these folks wanna meet you.” Once you look over to him, a devious smile makes its way to Lucifer’s thin lips as you take your first drink. “And? I’m the king of hell! I do as I please.” He teases and now you’re both smiling brightly, a soft laugh leaving your lips as you push his arm playfully. “I love Charlie but I hate this party. Let me finish my drink first, yeah?”
Lucifer continues to side eye you and also scan over the entire room, checking out the scene as you sip on your drink. You can see his casual glances and the way he quickly diverts his attention as soon as you catch him staring. Now you’re the one feeling some bravery. You quickly and smoothly slip your hand into his, letting your thumb rub back and forth across his knuckles as you try to quickly suck down the rest of your drink.
The grip you have on each other grows stronger, tighter with each second that passes. You notice Lucifer bouncing his leg now, growing impatient and needy. As soon as a slurping noise comes from the straw at the bottom of your glass, Lucifer is trying to pull you up off your seat. He’s not worried about hiding his eagerness from you at this point, not when you’re looking like you do now and getting so blushy and shy at his flirtatious comments. He has to shoot his shot, he has to try. You’re the only person who’s made him feel young and love sick again after Lilith, he can’t afford to let you slip away too. That would crush him more than the weight of the embarrassment and discomfort he is feeling right now.
Lucifer leads you to the library, doubting anyone would be occupying it at the moment and he is correct. Finally, alone together, his hand in yours still, fingers interlocked. His big eyes, full of worry and second thoughts stare deep into yours as he gives himself a moment.
“Oh, my. Where do I even begin?” His other hand comes to yours, holding them both oh so delicately. “You…I’m so….” You nod, smiling to give him some encouragement to continue. “I want you so bad. I want to hold you, I just want to touch you already. I need to kiss you. (Y/N), I love you-“
You’re not sure what came over you but now your hands are exploring his blonde locks, your lips moving feverishly against his. Besides the faint, far away music playing, all you two could hear was each other’s soft gasps and the smacking of wet lips. At first, Lucifer was very engaged in the kiss but he was hesitant to touch you, unsure of where to put his hands. Like hell he wants to rest his claws on your hips or your butt, but he waits for you to give him the okay, his hands balled into fists and held up near his shoulders.
Finally letting him have his way, you guide his hands to your torso before breaking the kiss to whisper, “It’s okay, Luci. You can touch me.” It’s more of a whimper than a whisper but Lucifer isn’t complaining in the slightest. The tone of your voice and the feeling of finally touching your perfectly soft body had his eyes glowing bright red now.
Quickly and without warning, he crashes his lips back into yours sloppily, his long forked tongue gently gliding across your lip, giving the slightest bit of attention to your teeth. He would devour every bit of you right now if you only asked. He wished you would ask right now. He’d even beg for it…You happily let your mouth open more, inviting him in as his arms slowly stretch their way around you until he’s holding you tightly against him. Lucifer squeezes you tightly as he savors your taste for a moment, pulling a soft whine from you before loosening up.
With your eyes closed, you tried to just follow his lead and do your best at impressing and arousing him but he’s sort of doing the same. He hasn’t been with anyone like this in so long, he’s rusty as hell. So, yall are an absolute mess. After about a minute of wild making out and rapidly moving hands, you’ve found yourselves on the floor. The two of you sit up on your knees, holding onto each other as if your lives depend on it. Your hands held his cheeks so tenderly, pulling his face as close to your own as you possibly could.
Lucifer couldn’t help but smile against your mouth, a soft laugh leaving him as he remembers all those nights he dreamt of this exact situation- you looking beautiful and magnificent as always and him having the freedom to let his hands roam your darling figure. He’s been craving you, dreaming of you, wishing for you, praying for you. The laugh that escapes him results in you pulling back to get a look at him. And fuck was he gorgeous- hair a disheveled mess, the purple shadow on his eyelids smudged ever so slightly, his once impressive suit now wrinkled and shifted awkwardly on him, his lips still shiny from your saliva, his breathing loud and heavy and his smile just kept getting bigger, toothier.
“What are you laughing at?” Lucifer rests his forehead against yours, his eyes moving across your breathless, flushed face, just dying to know what’s on your mind now. “I’ve been wanting to kiss you for ages, darling. More than I’ve wanted anything in my entire existence, I’ve wanted to be alone with you like this.” A breathy giggle leaves you, your hands shaking as they travel down from his face to his biceps.
“Oh really? Why don’t you stop telling me and…keep showing me?” You tease, your hands coming to rest on his puffed out chest. Your touch combined with your sweet flirting and breathy voice has all of his wings popping out momentarily. You can’t help but laugh at this, but Lucifer is all business right now. You told him to show you, and oh darling, he’s gonna teach you a whole lesson on how beautiful and ethereal you are to him…and he’s gonna teach you with only his hands and his mouth.
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Older! Boyfriend Toji Headcanons
MDNI! (Slightly) EXPLICIT CONTENT AHEAD!
Soft headcanons:
Older! Toji, who adores the huge size difference between the two of you. He loves how you tilt your head back to look at him or stand on your tippy toes, pushing on his shoulders, just to kiss his cheek.
Older! Toji, who has a ton of money (shout out to broke ass Toji, though 😔). You have no idea what he does for a living. You're pretty sure it isn't something totally legal, like accounting, but whatever. He doesn't mention it and you don't ask. His favorite thing to do is turn you spoiled rotten. He constantly takes you on shopping trips, although his attitude is astronomical, only letting himself smirk when you thank him for buying you a cute little sundress.
"That one's real cute, baby."
"Yeah, bub, that color is really nice."
"Just buy 'em both, I'll take you somewhere nice to show them off."
He can barley constrain himself from pinning you against the dressing room wall and pushing the faint yellow fabric of the dress away from your skin, tasting you through your little lace panties.
Older! Toji whose love language is quality time and physical touch. No matter what he's doing, he needs to have you next to him. He never thought he'd fall so hard for someone, yet here we are...
"Toji, baby please, I'm trying to cook dinner." Toji only tightens his grip around your waist.
"I know, pretty. Just want to feel you." He responded, hooking his chin over your shoulder, peering at the vegetable you were currently mutilating.
"That's definitely not how you cut garlic." You feel him turn his head, smirking into your neck.
"Shut up."
Older! Toji, who would never, EVER let you drive him anywhere. You're forever stuck as a passenger princess. Hell would have to freeze over before Toji would let you be responsible for transporting him somewhere. This includes the time he accidentally shot himself in the upper thigh (long story 🙄) and REFUSED to let you drive to the hospital. You belong in the passenger seat, and his big hand belongs rested on your thigh, gently squeezing the squishy flesh from time to time.
Older! Toji, who pays for your bi-weekly manicures.
"What about these?" You tilt your phone screen towards him, showing him the set of acrylics you saved to your pinterest board earlier that week.
"Hmm, very nice." He flashed you a small smile of approval before grabbing your hand, kissing each knuckle.
They'd look so small and delicate wrapped around his dick.
Older! Toji whose most embarrassing secret is his love-hate relationship with the Kardashians. At first it was baffling... he doesn't even look like he'd know who they are. However, this man is INVESTED. You heard it here first. He lives for the pettiness of it all.
"What the fuck is Khloé's problem now?"
Toji strolls into the living room where you're perched on the couch, eyes glued to the new episode of 'The Kardashians'. He huffs, plopping down next to you.
"She always acts like she's some mediator for Kim and Kourtney, but she's an instigator. Always whining and complaining about something." He scoffs, rolling his eyes. You laugh, humming in agreement.
His favorite thing to rag on them about is their baby names.
"North West? That's a fucking direction."
Older! Toji, who holds you at night. Feeling your chest rise and fall rhythmically with his is the most comforting feeling in the world. He never falls asleep before you, finding peace only when you've found yours. He only becomes sappy after midnight, the loneliness of a quiet bedroom forcing him to face his emotions. Once he's positive you're passed out for the night, he moves his hand from your upper back to your head, gently stroking back stray strands of hair that were previously covering your precious face.
"You looked so beautiful today. I need to tell you that more." He whispered.
"I'm so lucky to have such a sweet girl all to myself."
"I love you so much. More than anything."
Older! Toji, who sees you as his entire world. Scratch that, his entire universe.
Hope you enjoyed! xoxo
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confusionmeisss · 3 months
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baby cousin - c. sturniolo
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🫧 chris sturniolo x fem!reader
🫧 where you bring chris along with you to a family party and your little baby cousin absolutely steals all his attention.
🫧 fluff.
🫧 1.4k words.
🫧 hi lovelies!! thank you so much for wanting to read! uh this idea just popped into my head when i seen this picture of chris, i was like, “i got the perfect thing to write based on this” i think i was also heavily inspired by the fact that my baby cousins baptism was coming up so i was gonna be seeing my little cousins! anyway, enjoy bc i loved writing this! much love to you all!! <3 oh also, apologies if ur ovulating or have baby fever 😣
Your five year old cousin, Lila, had to be the most bubbly and extroverted of all your cousins. She would chat to anyone willing to listen. Most of all, she’d been attached to you since you could remember, turning herself into your little shadow. She mimics your mannerisms and what you say. And whenever you’re anywhere with her there as well, you have to be so careful with moving about because she’ll be stuck to you like velcro.
So it was normal that as soon as you set foot into your aunt’s backyard and the little girl spotted you, her features lit up and she made a mad dash for you; her small body colliding with yours.
You let out a breath at the collision, a smile overtaking your face afterwards. “Hey Li,” you say, crouching down to her level.
“Hi, Y/N!” She shouts out brightly.
You laugh softly. “Heard you started kindergarten. How’s that been for you, bug? Make any new friends?” You ask, brushing back a piece of stray hair from her face.
She nods her head enthusiastically. “Yes! His name is Austin and we push each other on the swings and play legos together!”
“That’s great! Hey, I have someone I want you to meet,” you say, standing back to your height.
“Really?”
“Mhm,” you say, grabbing her small hand and leading her to where your mother is standing talking to your uncle; Chris standing next to her.
“His name is Chris and he’s my boyfriend.”
Lila stops you before you reach them by tugging at your shirt.
You look down at her. “Do you think he’ll wanna be my friend?”
“Oh for sure. I think you two will get along real well in fact.”
“Okay! Then let’s go meet my new friend Chris!”
You let out another soft laugh as you both finally reach your mother and Chris. Your mother spotting you both and letting out a gasp.
“Oh well if it isn’t my favorite five year old!” She says, reaching down and tugging Lila into a big hug. “How’s school going for you so far, darling?”
“Great! Made new friends! Bout to make a new one now!” Lila lets out from her place in your mothers arms, squirming just a little bit.
“Oh, yes,” your mother lets out a chuckle. “Go on and meet Christopher now, darling.” Your mother lets go of the girl with a pat on her head before wandering off to talk to another family member.
Almost immediately Lila looks at the man now standing next to you. A bright grin taking over her face, making her cheeks squish and her eyes squint.
“Hello! I’m Lila, and I would like to be your friend! Would you like to be my friend?” The little girl asks with a little hand outstretched towards Chris.
His bigger one engulfs hers as he returns her greeting. “I would love to be your friend, Lila.”
Lila lets go of Chris’ hand and claps her hands together with a squeal of delight.
“That’s great! Do y’wanna go play in my sandbox with me? We can make sandcastles!”
“I would love to!” Chris says brightly.
And as soon as the words left his mouth, he was being dragged away by Lila and towards her sandbox.
“So, I heard that you’re in school now. Do you like it?” Chris asks, as he plops down onto the grass next to the sandbox.
“Oh I love it!” Lila replies, picking up two pink shovels, and shoving one towards Chris. “It’s super fun! Like, I get to color, but I gotta stay inside the lines which I guess can be hard sometimes. But like we also get to watch movies sometimes. And now I can count up to twenty! Which is how old Y/N is! How old are you?”
Chris lets out a chuckle at the girl’s enthusiastic debrief. “Well, I’m glad you enjoy school. I’m twenty too, but I won’t be in a couple more months; then I’ll be twenty-one along with my brothers.”
“You have brothers? I’m an only child, I dunno what that’s like. Wait, why are you and your brothers all turning the same age at the same time? That’s not how it works,” Lila says, her head tilted to the side in confusion.
“Ah, you see my brothers and I were born on the same day, so we all turn the same age at the same time,” Chris explains. “We’re triplets. It’s like twins but instead of two, there’s three of us.”
Lila gasps, sand flying up from her excited hand movements - which Chris notes she’s picked up from you - and into her hair. Lila remains unphased by this as she says, “That’s so cool!”
“Yeah, it really is.”
Lila quickly changes topics though as her gaze focuses on something behind her. “Let’s blow bubbles, and then we can chase them trying to pop them before they disappear!”
“Alright,” Chris agrees easily, standing up from the grass. He watches as Lila runs over to a little plastic picnic table and grabs a tube of bubbles.
“Will you blow them?” She asks, running back over to him. Once she reaches him, she holds out her hand with the bubbles in it out to him expectantly.
“‘Course I will,” Chris says, taking hold of the bubble tube and twisting it open. “Ready?” He asks.
Receiving a nod in response, he starts blowing the bubbles, watching them float out into the air and Lila chase after them trying to pop them.
Chris has a happy smile on his face as he watches the little girl giggle while trying to pop the bubbles.
“Chris, can you try and make a super big one? Y/N can do it, and it’s always so cool!”
Chris nods and focuses on attempting to make as big of a bubble as he can. It takes a few tries, all of which Lila giggles at, before he finally gets one out.
“Woah!” Lila gasps out, before giggling and reaching up to pop it with her little finger.
The bubble bursts and splatters against Chris’ face, making him scrunch it up in distaste. “Oh ew, soaps on my mouth now.”
Lila lets out a loud laugh at Chris’ distress.
“Oh, you think that’s funny?” Chris asks.
“Mhm,” Lila says, attempting to suppress a giggle.
Chris doesn’t even hesitate before he drops the tube of bubbles and starts chasing after the girl. Her giggles so loud, they make you look over from where you’re making plates of food.
A soft smile overtakes your face as you watch them run around, your smile widening when Chris grabs hold of Lila and starts tickling her, making her giggles somehow get louder.
“Mercy! Mercy! M’sorry for laughing at you!” Lila squeals out. Chris surrenders and places the girl down on the bench of her picnic table, then sitting across from her.
“You’re silly, Chris,” Lila giggles. “I’m hungry,” she then whines out.
“Ah, well lucky for you, I’ve come to be your savior,” you say, placing a plastic plate in front of her. You place another in front of Chris before setting drinks down on the table as well.
“Thank you!” Lila shouts, before stabbing her fork into her mac n’ cheese.
“Thank you,” Chris says, smiling at you softly and placing a kiss on your cheek.
“You’re welcome, my love,” you reply, going to sit down before you’re stopped by a small hand.
“Sorry Y/N, but only two people can fit at my picnic table and I want Chris to sit with me,” Lila says looking up at you with an apologetic expression.
You let out a gasp of fake offense, placing a hand over your heart. “I can’t believe this! I’ve been replaced!”
Lila gasps. “No! You can’t ever be replaced! You’re my favoritest! Chris move, you can sit on the grass and Y/N can take your spot!”
You suppress a laugh at this. Chris takes it all in stride though, and moves to sit on the grass and you take his spot.
“So I’m taking it you like Chris then?” You ask Lila, taking a bite of your food.
“Oh yeah! I hope you keep him around, he’s real fun! And silly!”
“Yeah. Yeah he is, isn’t he? I hope he sticks around for a long while too,” You say looking at Chris softly.
He reaches over and grabs your hand, interlocking your fingers, resting them on the bench. “I will,” he assures.
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euthymiya · 4 months
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help me forget (until my only memories are you) ft. wriothesley
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in which wriothesley is plagued with dreams of his past, tucked away in the quietest corner of the fortress until you find him. a thermos of tea, an ocean view, and a heartfelt conversation later, you both decide your memories only matter when they’re of each other
contains: 2.1k word count ; female reader ; established relationship ; hints at wriothesley’s backstory, including mentions of blood and murder ; nightmares and trauma (wrio) ; reverse comfort ; fluff and (cheesy) banter
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“thought i’d find you here,” you say quietly as you walk up to wriothesley—it’s quiet enough that’s it’s almost as if you’re trying not to startle him.
(and yes, it’s a bit of a pointless gesture. you know he can hear your footsteps approaching him for a good distance before you even reach him, but, all things considered, you don’t think a little extra gentleness will hurt him.)
“well, looks like you found me,” he hums, legs spread out before him as he stares through the glass. he’s eyes the ocean, his pupils following the schools of fish and casts of crabs as they swim past the glass tunnel that separates you from the water.
the glass tunnel in the fortress is wriothesley’s favorite spot. for a number of reasons, really—first, the inmates aren’t allowed here without official permission, so he has the area to himself for the most part. second, there’s some sort of sign of life to witness, something breathing and moving apart from the rowdy bunch of prisoners he’s in charge of every day. and third, it’s nice to see colors, something vivid and lively outside of rusted metal and dingy lighting.
wriothesley loves this tunnel. it helps him appreciate his life, his home, when he’s especially regretful he doesn’t get to live up at the surface. that regret doesn’t come very often—he’s happy with the life he’s made for himself and the family he’s grown here, but he’s only human.
sometimes even the warden would like to know what it feels like to wake up under the sun, feeling the rays kiss the skin of his cheeks like a mother does her son, so warm and gentle and endlessly filled with love.
he supposes a mother’s love is as unreachable as the sun for him, a regretful conclusion he’s long come to since the tender age of early teen hood.
you plop down beside him, tucking yourself against his side as you hand him a small thermos, making him quirk a brow up.
“tea,” you explain, “i figured it would help.”
“aren’t you sweet?” he chuckles, unscrewing the top and pouring the warm, freshly brewed tea into the lid as he takes a slow sip. he turns, pressing the rim to your lips, letting you take your own sip before he sighs and wraps an arm around you. “did i wake you?”
“of course,” you huff theatrically, “i was so cold. do you have any idea how cold the fortress gets at night without a big, strong, muscled warden to keep you warm?”
he snorts, eyeing you with an amused glance as you bite back your own grin.
“well, my dear lady, i offer my sincerest apologies. you will never wake up cold again.” he indulges your banter with a tight grin.
wriothesley is good at that—good at pretending his feelings don’t exist, pretending he doesn’t feel them in favor of putting on a brave face. you see through the tiny cracks of his mask, though. you can see the tousled hair and bruised under eyes from his lack of sleep. you can see the sore knuckles of his hands from punching bags. you can see the distant, hazy look in his eyes as he stares off into the never ending sea ahead, not sparing you the usual soft gaze he sends your way.
wriothesley is good at pretending everything is okay. just as good as you are at knowing when it isn’t okay at all.
“i’d rather i don’t wake up alone,” you trace the scar along his chest with a finger, visible from the neckline of the tank top he wears to sleep. he doesn’t say anything, swallowing as he swirls the contents in his makeshift cup, purposefully avoiding your gaze. “wriothesley.”
“i’m sorry,” he mumbles, “i figured i’d let you sleep.”
“you don’t need to apologize,” you furrow your brows, hooking a finger under his chin and gently coaxing him to turn and meet your eyes, “i’m not mad, baby. it’s okay.”
“i know,” is all he says.
“will you talk to me?” your head lays against his chest, grabbing one hand and fiddling with his fingers, lacing them with yours as you compare the size of his rough, rugged palm against yours while his other hand lifts the cup to take a long, slow sip of the tea.
it’s hot against his throat, soothing the raw, dryness that builds.
“don’t i talk to your ear off enough through the day?” he tries to tease, deflecting the topic that you try to breach. but you’re good at following just as he is at running—you bring his knuckles up to your lips as you kiss them one by one, so gentle, so feather like in touch, he can’t help but shiver.
“so you’re tired of talking to me?” you tease back, making his lips twitch fractionally.
“nah,” he breathes a small laugh, “never tired of you.”
“that’s good to know,” you exhale a relieved breath, still playful and lighthearted as you add, “i thought you were running away from me while i slept.”
“i’d have come back.” his voice is low, barely audible—you hear it anyway, feeling the rumble of his words through the vibrations in his chest. “you kick the blanket off. someone’s gotta tuck you in.”
“well you didn’t come back before i had to come find you,” you point out. “so tell me, what’s on that mind of yours? can’t be nothing if you leave me cold and alone in our bed.”
“just a silly old dream,” he shrugs off, laughing dryly as he says, “nothing a tough warden like me can’t handle.”
“oh yeah?” you press gently, leaning up to kiss his jaw with a delicate, warm press of your lips. it makes him swallow thickly, inhaling a shaky breath as he nods.
“yeah.”
“you don’t have to handle it,” you offer carefully, “not alone, at least. you know that, baby?”
“do i look that troubled?” he smiles weakly, but it drops as soon as your hand cups his cheek, pulling him to lean in until his forehead is pressed against yours and his eyes can’t leave their spot of looking directly at you.
“do you trust me?” you whisper. he nods, unable to speak. “i love you, you know.”
“i know,” he croaks. “i love you too.”
“so then talk to me.” your hand falls from his cheek to his chest, laying right on his heart while your other hand squeezes his as it keeps it in its hold.
so he does. with a shaky sigh, he tells you about them, the things he sees in his sleep.
sometimes, wriothesley has dreams. dreams of his mother brushing back his hair with her fingers as she wakes him for breakfast. dreams of his father patting his back as he throws a ball to one of his brothers. dreams of childlike, gleeful laughter ringing through his ears in a muffled, distant sound before it morphs into pained, horrified screams.
his legs carry him down the hallway of his childhood home, bare feet pounding against the hardwood until finally, he turns to corner into his living room. and there he stands—face to face with himself. one version of him in crumpled pajamas and another in oversized, scuffed up clothes like he’s drifted from street to street. he stares at himself, only he notices he looks older, more distant, more tired.
and then he notices the blood. it’s everywhere—on his hands, splattered on his face, dripped onto his clothes, pooled on the floor.
blood is everywhere. it coats the same floors he ran on, stains the same walls his height was marked against. it dirties every happy memory of this house of his, no longer a home.
w-what have you done? he asks his older self.
the boy—the one with his own face—glares down at him, so angry and betrayed, so unlike his happy self as he mutters, what had to be done.
and then he wakes up. he’s always covered in cold sweat, panting, and shuffled far, far away from your peaceful and beautiful sleeping figure. how can he wake you? how can he disrupt your pure, sweet state to wipe the blood spilt on his hands? how can he ask you to carry the heaviness of his sins when you’re so free and weightless from that darkness that plagues someone like him?
you listen as he spills his heart, quiet and unmoving against his side as your palm never leaves his chest. his eyes follow the movement of the fish outside of the glass while he speaks, and your eyes trace over the new red, angry marks on the back of his hand.
“just thought i’d come down here to clear my head,” he confesses, “you looked like you were tired.”
“i’d have woken you,” you admit, looking up at him. he meets your stare, furrowing his brows in confusion until you add, “if i had a bad dream, i mean. because you’re the only place i feel safe.”
he breathes out a soft chuckle, cheek laying on the crown of your head as he whispers, “it’s ’cause of the muscles, right? years of boxing will do that to a guy.”
“so what i’m gathering is that i have to take up boxing for you?” you grin, nudging him with your shoulder playfully as he bites his bottom lip to fight back his grin, shaking his head at your antics.
“i just don’t want to wake you every other night.”
“i want you to wake me every night if you have to,” you frown, reaching over and giving his forehead a reprimanding flick with your fingers, “it’s what i’m here for. what’s the point of being together if you’re going to be all alone, wriothesley?”
“i’m not alone,” he argues, lifting your joined hands before his warm lips press a lingering kiss to the back of an equally as warm hand. “i have you.”
you blink, staring at him blankly. “you just kissed your own hand, you fool.”
“right,” he nods, flushing a slight shade of pink before he twists his wrist to kiss the proper hand, “it was on purpose. it’s self love and all that good stuff, you know?”
“uh huh,” you lift a brow, snorting as you shake your head. he gives you a sly wink, leaning down to kiss your lips briefly as you shuffle closer against his side. “you know,” you breathe against his lips, “sometimes we dream about our pasts because our minds want to change something about them.”
“oh? i suppose i could think of a thing or two to change about mine. maybe a happy childhood. maybe the ability to trust people. that’d be nice, don’t you think?”
“i would change mine,” you admit, making him stare at you for a moment as he ponders over your words.
“would you now? and what would you change?”
“i’d meet you sooner,” you hum, “we could be like the cute stories, you know? childhood friends turned destined lovers. wouldn’t that be sweet?”
he looks at you quietly for a bit—dazed, awed, slightly bewildered. you couldn’t possibly want to know a guy like him in your youth, he thinks. how utterly foolish. but there’s no denying that unbearable, pressured clench of his heart, right where only you can reach to squeeze.
“of all stories,” he chuckles, shaking his head, “that’s what you want for yourself? childhood friends to lovers with a premeditated homicide convict that reforms a prison in his adulthood?”
“a traumatized homicide convict,” you correct, “that’s the part that gives it nuance, you know?”
“oh, you’re right,” he nods sarcastically, “how silly of me.”
“don’t laugh at me,” you huff, pouting at him as you poke his chest, “i’m serious. i’d meet you sooner if i could.”
“me too,” he murmurs, pecking your lips in a wordless apology. you accept with a soft kiss of your own in return. “i’d have met you way sooner too, sweetheart.”
“maybe you’ll dream it some day,” you wink cheekily.
“let’s hope i do,” he laughs, pulling you to sit between his legs, your back to his chest as he rests his chin on your shoulder and sighs in content. “you’re the only place too, by the way,” he adds after a few moments, breath tickling the shell of your ear as he whispers the words.
“hmm?” you tilt your head in confusion, gasping when his arms wrap tightly around you, his face burying into your neck as he presses a tickling kiss into your skin.
“where i feel safe.”
“oh,” you breathe, smiling slightly in wonder, “good. then you’ll wake me next time?”
“will it keep you warmer in this cold, unforgiving fortress of ours?”
“oh yes,” you nod, giggling lightly. “very warm.”
he smiles into your skin, replacing the vivid images of blood in his mind with the soft hues of your eyes. “then i suppose i have no choice but to wake you.”
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childhood friends to lovers with wrio where reader flips neuvillette off and marches down to the fortress and drags wrio back up to the overworld by the wrist when he’s convicted bc she makes the rules around these parts
jk i love you neuvi my sweet angel dragon
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brairslair · 4 months
Note
(i debated whether or not to ask this anonymously)
so yknow how eddie has a W.A.S.P pin on his vest? can you plz write an eddieXreader scene inspired by their song
Animal (F*** Like A Beast) ?
😅😊
i absolutely love this reqqq, tysm for letting me run with this! hope you like how it turned out @nerdyhooker
Like an Animal - E.M.
18+ ONLY (minors please dni)
a/n: finally figured out an idea i liked for this, and i think it turned out pretty good! although i may have gotten a bit carried away lmao. not sure if this is as rough as you might have had in mind, but i tried to pull as much from the lyrics as possible! i hope you like what i ended up with <3
wc: 5.8k
cw: eventual smut, fem!reader, bartender!eddie + english teacher!reader, kinda fuckboy eddie vibes?, enemies to lovers vibes, light bondage (handcuffsss), p in v sex, unprotected sex (do not do this), oral (fem receiving), pet names (princess, sweetheart, honey, baby), technically drinking and driving, smoking (cigs + i don’t smoke so idfk what i’m talking about), brat reader but she gets super subby, kinda mean but soft dom eddie?, light dacryphilia, these idiots have been head over heels for each other since high school and neither of them knew it bc they’re stupid and stubborn, extremely vague mention of aftercare, not proof read, lmk if i missed anything!
don’t forget to like, reblog, follow, and comment to support my work! it always makes my day, mwah
“well if it isn’t the little princess”
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Just like that, nine months down the drain. You massage your temples as you recall the past few days. The countless arguments between you and your, now ex, boyfriend form a persistent migraine between your eyes.
In hindsight, you really should have seen it coming. Your relationship had been rocky for months, but you were so busy with other obligations that you hadn’t had the time to confront any of it head on. Fortunately for you, he was more than willing to step up to the plate.
You wouldn’t let yourself admit it out loud, but you almost felt relieved with his absence in your small apartment. That was until you remembered the loss of his half of the rent.
Everything happened so fast, it was hard to process any of it. It all felt like it was swirling around and around too quickly for you to pick any one thing out. Your solution? Alchohol.
You grabbed your keys and hopped into your polished, clean, mint green beetle, setting off for the local dive bar. You could only recall one other time you had been to the small bar, having been dragged there by colleagues in the name of “bonding” after a particularly long day at work.
Drinking wasn’t something you did often, reserving a glass of wine for holidays and special events. Tonight, you decided you needed to make an exception.
As you parked and stepped out of your car, you felt nerves twist in your gut. The place was undoubtedly busy, which wasn’t shocking for a Friday night. People were smoking and talking out front, and you couldn’t help but notice how out of place you must’ve looked.
A knee length grey skirt fell loosely over your hips, paired with a rose colored, ruffled blouse, and a pearl necklace with matching earrings to top it off. Not a single tattoo in sight, and certainly no cigarette in hand. Your heels clicked against the pavement, smoothing down your skirt as you made your way inside.
The second you enter, you’re hit with a haze of smoke and the overwhelming smell of alchohol, nicotine, and sweat. It takes a moment for your eyes to adjust to the dim lighting before you head for the bar.
You shuffle your way over to an empty stool at the front and take a seat, plopping your beaded purse on the counter. As you wait for the bartender to make their way to you, you take a better look at your surroundings. The place felt oddly cozy for being in such a frumpy looking building, and a band was playing some sort of aggressive rock song you had never heard before. Despite it being a little too loud, and a little too cluttered, you were already starting to relax a little.
“Hey there, what can I get for ya?”
You whip your head around at the voice, and your stomach instantly falls into your shoes. It would be impossible not to recognize the dark mop of curls that you got so used to seeing bouncing about the halls you shared all those years ago.
Although now it was pulled back into a sloppy bun at the back of his head, loose curls falling around his face. You’d hate to admit it, but he looked really nice.
“Well if it isn’t the little princess.” he laughs, and you feel your fists clench at the old nickname. “Didn’t think this was really your scene.”
“Well that would be a correct assumption, Munson.” you bite, bouncing back from the initial shock, “Unfortunately, it was the closest bar to my apartment, and I wasn’t in the mood to drive across town.”
Your grumbling makes you feel like a petulant child with a grudge, but you can’t help it. Eddie just always has getting on your nerves.
“I didn’t know you worked here, or I would have made the sacrifice.”
Eddie smiles his big, toothy, infuriatingly smug smile, and shakes his head, “You haven’t changed one bit, huh princess?”
“Don’t call me that.” you demand through gritted teeth, holding on to every ounce of restraint you have not to scream at him to just get you a drink.
He leans forward on the counter with a lopsided, goofy sort of expression, invading your space and ignoring your little outburst. “So what brings you in here tonight, princess? Boy troubles?” he mocks with a pouty tone.
You glare daggers into his skull, and he knows he’s hit the nail on the head. “Just a beer will do.”
He gives a small salute before leaving to get you your drink of choice.
The rest of the night is spent drinking, wallowing, and actively avoiding any and all interactions with the familiar bartender. The minimal interaction you did have involved him pushing every button in sight, and you fighting to maintain an ounce of self control.
Any time your eyes made their way over to him, of their own volition, his eyes were already on you. He had this look, like he knew something you didn’t, and it infuriated you. Oh how you hated him.
It had always been this way, ever since high school. He made it his mission to push you to your limit, and you always had to one up him somehow. It became almost like a game. You weren’t surprised to see he hadn’t changed after all this time. It was almost comforting in way, if you thought about it long enough.
As the night went on, the activity slowly started dying down, and the atmosphere got quieter. You were on your second beer of the night, trying to let the cold liquid take the edge off. Even still, you felt your fingers tap against the counter with anxiety.
How could he leave you to fend for yourself at the drop of a hat? After nine months? Did your relationship hold that little of value? How were you supposed to afford next quarter’s rent? There’s no way you could afford to live in your current apartment. You would have to move. How would you find somewhere decent to stay in such a short amount of time? You were screwed.
“Hey sweetheart, we’re gettin’ ready to close up.”
You were pulled out of your thoughts, looking up to see the one person you wanted to see the least right now. His expression was soft. Softer than you’ve ever seen it aimed in your direction. It made you want to dig your nails into his skin.
“You alright?”
The question takes you aback, your brows furrow at the uncharacteristic behavior. “Fine, thanks.” you mumble, taking another gulp of your drink.
He looks at you with what can only be described as sympathy, and you feel your chest tighten. “Wanna step out for a smoke?”
You mull over the words for a moment. The answer should be so simple. You don’t smoke. In fact, you’ve never smoked once in your life. Why would you ever agree to smoke with him of all people?
But then his hand is outstretched across the bar for you to take a cigarette, and his eyes look so… kind? You’ve never thought of that word to describe him before. Maybe it was the alchohol, or maybe he put some sort of curse on you, because suddenly you’re taking the cigarette and following him out front.
You can’t help but watch as his thumb flicks at the lighter, putting it up to your lips before bringing it to his own. You follow his lead inhaling the smoke, and then you’re instantly coughing and spluttering it back out of your lungs.
He laughs lightly as he cooly blows the smoke to the side to avoid getting it in your face. “I take it you’ve never smoked before? If you wanted to talk to me, all you had to do was ask.”
“Shut up, Munson.” you spit out, face heating up with embarrassment as you make another attempt, ignoring the burning in your throat.
It’s silent for a while, before anyone decides to break it.
“So,” he starts, “You a big time writer now?” he asks, staring at the pavement.
He remembered you wanted to be a writer? You didn’t even think he knew that about you. “English teacher, actually. Hawkins High.”
He looks at you then, dropping the butt of his cigarette to the ground and crushing it under his boot. “You stuck around that hell hole? No wonder you’ve still got that stick up your ass.”
You scoff bitterly, “Well I guess some of us are more academically inclined than others.” you glare, “I actually enjoy my job, shocking as that may be to you.”
“I'm sure you do, sweetheart.” Eddie replies smugly, causing you to grit your teeth as he leans against the brick wall of the building. "Gettin' to boss people around all day must be a dream come true for you." The parking lot is almost completely empty at this point.
Of course his civility was just a calm before the storm. You mentally pinch yourself for your momentary lapse of judgement. “God, you are such a-“
“Comedian? Kind soul? Sight for sore eyes?” he offers dramatically, eyes twinkling at your grimace.
“I was going for obnoxious, conceited, prick.” You hiss, stomping out your cigarette, “and I do not have a stick up my ass!” you shout, turning on your heel to leave.
Eddie rushes to catch up to you, laughing boyishly in a way that makes you speed up. “Aw come on, princess, don’t be like that. I was just teasing.”
“I said not to call me that-” You whip around to face him, and suddenly you’re practically chest to chest, craning your neck to meet his eyes. You’re so close you wonder if he can feel your heart racing behind your ribs.
Then he’s looking at you with that look. The one that makes your insides bubble over with fury. The one that makes you feel like he knows some sort of deep secret about you. It makes you want to slap him in his smug face. Yet, for some reason, you can’t seem to look away from his gaze.
Finally, you pull yourself away, and march over to your car. Just as you open your door, you hear a retreating shout of, “Next drink’s on me, princess!” and then you’re out of there faster than you can process your heaving chest and shaky hands.
After that, you somehow end up back in that same bar every Friday. Some sort of force, unbeknownst to you, seemed to draw you in like a magnet. As promised, the next drink was on him… and the next, and the next, no matter how many times you tried to refuse.
No matter how much you tried to talk yourself out of it, you always ended up sitting on the same stool, at the same time, with the same drink in your hand. Every week, without fail, you would leave the bar a fuming, heated mess with only one thing on your mind. Eddie fucking Munson.
This week in particular was different. You were absolutely swamped with assignments that needed to be graded, and you spent all of Thursday night and Friday working on getting them done.
It wasn’t until you woke up the next morning that you noticed the hiccup in your routine, and for some reason it made you sad. It wasn’t like you were obligated to go every weekend, but a part of you had grown to enjoy your Friday nights at the bar. Then some sick, twisted part of you wondered if he had noticed your absence, but you shoved the thought away as soon as it surfaced.
As the day went on, you convinced yourself it wouldn’t hurt to just go tonight instead. After all it was a Saturday night, and you had already cleared your workload for the week, so it’s not like there was any real harm in it.
Alternatively, it was a Saturday night. Eddie’s band performed Saturday nights. You didn’t want him to think you were there to see him, because you most certainly were not. You just didn’t want to miss out on your weekly drink, that’s all. Nothing more.
Still, it was a Saturday night. It would do you some good to look a little nicer, right?
You start to regret it the second you park your car. The shift in the air is blatantly obvious as you enter walk towards the crowded space. Men out front whistle at you as you walk to the door, and you can feel eyes practically digging into your skin as u head for your usual seat at the bar. Your leg bounces with nerves at the attention. You've never worn this dress before. Never had a reason to. You don't allow yourself to wonder why you chose to wear it tonight.
You ask the bartender for a long island iced tea, and catch yourself checking the small stage in the back of the room. You internally scold yourself and glue your eyes to your drink.
It isn’t long before cheers are heard around the bar, pulling your attention up to see Corroded Coffin walking out on stage.
“How’s everybody doing tonight?” Eddie’s voice booms out of the speakers, causing people to whoop and holler in reply. You feel your leg begin to bounce.
He continues talking to the small crowd while his band finishes setting up, and you can’t stop yourself from ogling at him. You desperately want to pull your eyes away, to look at anything else, but you can’t.
He’s wearing an old band t-shirt with the sleeves cut off, showing off his arms, chest, and a sliver of his waist. Your eyes trail across the exposed skin, noticing he has quite a few new tattoos littering it, and your stomach twists. He has leather and chain bracelets decorating his wrists, curls falling wildly around his face, and you notice light bouncing off of his signature rings still adorning his fingers. You definitely don’t remember him looking like this in high school.
As he moves around the stage it’s abundantly clear how confident he is up there. His stage presence is truly impressive, and his voice is really something. It's gotten deeper since the last time you heard it. You subconsciously wet your lips as you watch his fingers move around the neck of his guitar. He’s come a long way since the last time you saw him perform. You can’t help but smile as you watch him in his element.
Then the smile is wiped clean off of your face when he makes direct eye contact with you from across the bar. You freeze, feeling like you suddenly have shards of glass lodged in your throat. Has he known you’ve been sitting here the whole time? If he saw you smiling you might have to run into oncoming traffic.
Then you notice what he’s singing.
“I'm on the prowl and I watch you closely I lie waiting for you I'm the wolf with the sheepskins clothing I lick my chops and you're tastin' good”
Your stomach flips and you can feel your whole body heating up. Something tells you he notices too, which makes it a million times worse. What the hell is wrong with you?
“I do whatever I want to do ya I'll nail your ass to the sheets A pelvic thrust and the sweat starts to sting ya I fuck like a beast”
You shift in your seat, the eye contact becoming far too overwhelming. You opt to look down at your lap for the remainder of the song to prevent yourself from doing something embarrassing.
Soon enough the set is over, and the band starts breaking down their set up. You’re so deep in your own thoughts by the end of it that you fail to notice the man approaching you, until his arms are caging you against the bar.
“Well hello there, pretty lady.” You gasp at the familiar voice speaking directly into your ear, feeling his shirt graze your back. “Didn’t expect to see you here tonight.” He beams down at you, watching you huff and roll your eyes as you turn to face him. Your fingers wriggle with the efforts not to hit him.
“It was an impulsive decision.” You mutter quietly, eyes briefly darting to his toned arm beside you before snapping back to his face, “I didn’t come yesterday.” You concede, unsure of what else to say.
He smiles, seemingly amused. “I know. Your seat was empty all night.” he says lowly, face so close to yours that you can feel his breath against your lips. For a moment you think he’s going to kiss you, and then he’s pushing off of the counter to head back behind the bar and help clean up.
So he did notice. Did he miss you? Was he saving your seat, or is it just a coincidence?
You feel dizzy with a million questions. Why did you let him get so close? Why were you going to let him kiss you? Why does he look so good. Why do you care so much? You should have said something, anything.
You finish your drink in silence, watching Eddie as he flits around tidying up the place, and then the bar is closing. You feel your gut twist at the thought of going home, and you don’t quite understand why, but you blame the alchohol.
As if he could hear your thoughts, Eddie jogs up to you as you grab your purse, arm outstretched and offering a cigarette. His hair falls prettily around his shoulders, and you only now notice that he takes much better care of his curls now than he did in high school.
“Care for a smoke?”
His charm must be cranked up to 100 tonight, because, once again, you agree with less hesitation than you would have liked.
You stand out front, Eddie waving goodnight to Garret as he heads to his car, and you watch as the last car whirs out of the lot. Then you are alone. Just you and Eddie. Your heart hammers in your chest.
“How’d you like the show?” he asks, exhaling a puff of smoke in the process.
You handle the burn better this time, holding back a cough from erupting as you take a drag. “It was… good.” You say hesitantly.
He quirks an eyebrow at you, “Just good? Wow, then we really need to get our shit together if we're gonna-“
“You were amazing.” You blurt out, unsure of why you felt the need to boost his ego. You clear your throat before amending your statement, “It… The show was amazing.”
Eddie hums in satisfaction, smile tugging at the corners of his lips around his cig. “You know, you didn’t have to dress all fancy for lil ol’ me.”
You wore a tight, low-backed, black dress that hugged your curves perfectly, sheer black stockings, black boots, and some dainty silver jewelry. Nothing too crazy, but definitely much different from how you would normally dress. Admittedly, you felt a little self conscious.
“Well good thing I didn’t dress fancy for you.” You huff, starting to feel a little silly for trying so hard to fit in. God, did he always have to be so cocky?
“I mean, I’m not complaining.” He starts, pushing off the wall to step towards you. “You look fucking incredible. Of course, you always look incredible.”
Smug bastard.
“Thank you.” You feel yourself flushing at the words, immediately getting sick to your stomach at how much you care what Eddie Munson thinks about how you look. “Glad I got your seal of approval.” You quip sarcastically, desperately trying to pick a fight. Anything to stop you from feeling whatever it is that you’re feeling right now.
Why did he always find a way to get under your skin? No one else makes you feel as utterly frustrated as he does.
He’s absolutely unbearable.
You force down another inhale of smoke as you watch Eddie slowly make his way closer to you. The way he’s looking at you makes your mouth go dry. You can’t tell what he’s thinking and it’s driving you up the wall.
“You know, you don’t always have to be such a brat.” He exhales casually, pausing in front of you. Your heart stops. “It wouldn’t kill you to be nice to me every once in a while.”
“It might.” You rasp out curtly, just now realizing how out of breath you suddenly feel.
He laughs, and the sound makes your insides flip.
“You have such a big fat crush on me, don’t you sweetheart?” He smiles down at you wolfishly, and it almost makes you shrink under his stare. You suddenly are acutely aware of your surroundings.
You scoff and cross your arms defensively, “I most certainly do not have a crush on you, Munson.” You spit out venomously. How dare he even suggest such a thing? It couldn’t be farther from the truth. You loathe him.
“Oh yeah?” he challenges, taking a stride closer to you, making you step backwards.
“Think I don’t notice how you stare at me? How you sit up a little straighter when you see me?”
Your back hits the wall.
“You aren’t subtle, princess.”
You feel like a fucking deer in headlights.
“Staring and glaring are two very different things.” You pant, desperately searching for oxygen. Anger burns in your throat at his absolute audacity, and your skin feels like it's buzzing.
“Is that so?”
You can feel his chest press into you as the brick digs into your shoulders. He takes a long inhale of smoke, and your head is screaming at you to push him off of you and curse him the whole way home, but you can’t bring yourself to move.
It feels like everything is moving in slow motion as he grabs your chin, and then, unexpectedly, he‘s pulling your jaw down to part your lips. All you can do is stare at him and his cocky fucking smile at your compliance. You feel like you’re in a trance.
Before you can even think, his lips are pressed against yours and pushing smoke past your lips. You gasp at the contact, effectively inhaling the smoke and sighing against his lips. Your brain short circuits and goes completely numb. His lips feel like the cure to a disease you've been plagued with for years.
For a moment, you almost forget who you’re with, until he pulls back to look at you.
“Well if you hate me so much, then why are you squeezing your thighs together?”
You immediately rip your legs apart, not even realizing what you were doing until it was too late. You can feel steam pouring out of your ears at this point.
“You’re insufferable.”
“You love it.”
He’s right. For some reason, you do love it. Something about him makes you crave more, and you’re starting to believe he may be an incubus. It’s making you go insane.
So you finally wave the white flag.
“Just shut up and kiss me, Munson.”
So he does. Again, and again, and again, until somehow you end up back at Eddie’s trailer with your wrists handcuffed to his bed frame and your clothes thrown around his room.
Hard rock music plays faintly in the distance, and the room smells vaguely of incense and weed. You feel like you've been transported to an alternate dimension.
His lips feel like they’re everywhere. Your mouth, your jaw, your neck, and then he’s leaving sweet little kisses on your tits, making you whine and arch your back towards him.
“Gotta teach you how to let loose, yeah?”
He gently tugs on one of your nipples and you gasp, and Eddie can’t help but laugh as he kisses his way further down your body.
“You’re fucking adorable when you’re not being a pain in the ass, you know that?”
You groan as he spreads your legs open, kissing and biting at your thighs. “Shut up, Eddie.”
“Oh I’m Eddie now?”
Your hips buck up in frustration, glaring down at him with a scowl. It feels like he’s been teasing you for forever. “Eddie” you whine out, “Stop teasing.”
He slowly starts kissing closer to where you need him most, but not quite close enough. “You don’t think you deserve it? Why do you think your wrists are locked up then, sweetheart?”
You wiggle and writhe beneath him, but don’t answer. Eddie moves his face closer to your cunt, and you finally think you’re going to get what you want, and then he blows on your clit. You whimper and clench around nothing, flinching away from him. It's absolutely pathetic, getting so worked up when he’s barely even done anything yet.
“I asked you a question.” Eddie tries again, rubbing soothing circles into the back of your thigh while he waits for a response.
“My wrist’s are locked up because…” You take a deep sigh and force yourself to just spit it out so that he’ll touch you already. “because I was being a brat." you grumble. He’s lucky your wrists are locked up right now, you think.
Eddie kisses your thigh in approval, “That’s right, and bratty girls don’t get to call the shots. Right?”
You huff and pull against your restraints once more, before ultimately complying. “Right.”
You figure it won’t do you any good to act out, especially given your current position.
“There you go, that wasn’t so hard was it?” Eddie grins up at you, before finally leaving a gentle kiss right on your clit.
You throw your head back into the pillows, immediately feeling relief at the small touch. He then runs his tongue up your slit, swirling it nice and slow around your little button, making you sigh and melt into the bed. His curls tickle your thighs where he works diligently.
It quickly becomes apparent that he knows exactly what he’s doing, and that makes you wonder how many other women have been in this exact same position. The thought makes you dig your nails into your palms, but the it’s is quickly forgotten when you feel him slide a finger into you.
"See?" He starts, words muffled by your folds, "Just needed someone to put you in your place, huh? To take the reigns?"
You flutter around him, and every fiber of your being wants to say something snippy in response, but all you get out is a blissed out sigh. He hums happily.
His fingers are much thicker than your own, calloused from his years of playing guitar. Looking down you notice he took all his rings off and set them next to you on the bed. He never takes his rings off, ever, you remember that. For some reason the simple act makes your heart leap out of your chest.
He pulls his face back from your slick for a moment just to watch the way you suck in his finger, and he moans at the sight of you. The sound makes your brain feel like static. “Fuck, baby, you needed it bad, huh? You’re fucking dripping all over my sheets and I've barley started.”
All you can do is nod your head and hum in response, and your jaw drops open with a soft moan as he slides in a second finger with ease.
“How long have you been wanting me like this, sweetheart? Be honest.” He asks, never faltering in his pace.
You whine at the question, embarrassment flooding your features as you turn your face to hide it in his pillow. He quickly kisses up your body, gently turning your head back to look at him. “You can tell me. No need to be embarrassed.”
You take one good look at his face, and you know that he already knows. He’s giving you that look. He just wants to hear you say it.
“Mm… Since-” you hesitate to finish your sentence, and then a particularly hard thrust of his fingers does it for you. “Since fucking high school! Christ, Eddie-”
A groan erupts from the back of his throat as he kisses you hard, licking and biting at your bottom lip, and then suddenly his mouth is back on your clit and you feel like you’re floating. He picks up the pace, eating you out like a man starved, flicking his tongue in time with the thrusts of his fingers.
You feel your hips start to move against him, and he groans into your pussy making you cry out. “Yeah, that’s it.” He mumbles against your core, “Ride my face, honey.”
You can’t control the plethora of sounds that escape you, and your body seems to have a mind of its own. You writhe on the bed as Eddie devours you, holding your thighs over his shoulders. He searches for your sweet spot with every thrust of his fingers, and he knows he’s found it when your eyebrows pinch up, a high pitched whine reverberating throughout his bedroom.
You can feel him smile against your cunt, continuing his assault against that spot that makes you see stars. He never stops looking up at you to watch your face contort with pleasure. His already dark eyes are now fully eclipsed with lust and need.
“Oh my god-” you gasp out, heaving for air as your legs begin to shake around his head.
He can tell you’re close from the way you’re squeezing his fingers and writhing under him. He doesn’t speed up or change his pace, he keeps doing exactly what he’s doing, moving the flat of his tongue back and forth against your clit and curling his fingers up into you just right.
“Eddie, mm… i’m so close-”
The second the words leave your lips, he pulls off of you. His mouth and fingers are completely gone in an instant, and you feel like you’re about to cry.
“What the fuck?!” You shout at him, voice weak with tears threatening to spill, “Why did you stop?”
Eddie grins from ear to ear, lips and chin glistening with your slick, “We talked about this, remember?” he says cockily, leaning down to lick a bead of sweat from your chest, “Brats don’t get to call the shots. You’ll take what I give you, won’t you sweetheart?”
You grumble and kick your legs out in frustration, but he kisses you to make it better. You slowly let him melt you back into putty in his hands, tasting yourself on his tongue. He presses his knee directly against your puffy cunt, groaning at your wetness against his skin as you sigh into his lips. You go to move your hips against him but he quickly stops you, moving his hand up instead to push down his boxers, his dick already hard and aching to feel you.
“Promise I’ll make you feel so good, just gotta be good for me first alright?”
You nod your head frantically, completely and utterly at his mercy. He looks like sex personified, and you just want to feel him. “Please, Eddie-”
He smiles sweetly at you, kissing your cheek as he slides the tip of his cock through your folds. “Awh, look at you and your manners.” he taunts, but this time you can't seem to care. In fact, you realize, you kind of like it.
You like hearing his voice.
You like it when he’s mean.
He pushes just the tip against your dripping hole, and you’re practically sobbing. “How can I say no when you asked so politely?” and then he’s sliding all the way into you, and you’re already a wreck.
“Holy shit- you feel so fucking good” he groans and huffs as he starts to slowly pump in and out of you, making sure you feel every drag of his cock inside you.
You’re already panting, stretching your hands against the cool metal to try and grasp for anything that can ground you, but you come up empty. He’s so much bigger than you expected him to be, and the stretch is practically making you drool.
“Eddie, fucking- god”
“That’s it, keep screaming my name just like that baby.” He encourages, kissing and biting at your collar bone, sure to leave marks, “You sound so goddamn pretty when you say my name.”
Eddie adjusts your position, pulling your leg over his hip and pushing it against your chest. The new angle has your back arching off the bed, a whimpering mess as you claw at the handcuffs.
Eddie leans his head to rest in the crook of your neck, panting and whining into your ear. “Shit, princess-”
Your cunt squeezes him at the nickname, and the moan that slips past your lips is guttural. “Oh, fuck-” He clamps his eye shut with a deep groan, gripping your thigh so hard it’s sure to leave little bruises.
That’s the first time he’s used that nickname since you started, and he knows it. He did it on purpose.
He lifts his head to look at your blissed out face, a goofy, lopsided, fucked out grin on his lips. “I knew it.” he gloats, thrusts getting harder, “Look at me.”
You muster up the energy to flutter your eyes open and look at him. The pretty smile on his face makes your legs shake.
“You like it when I call you that,” he beamed, “That’s why you hated when I used that name for you in public, huh. Cause’ it made you fuckin’ soak your panties?” he laughed meanly, watching tears fill your waterline. He leans down to brush his lips against yours, voice lowering into something sweeter. “Isn’t that right, princess?”
Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as you practically scream. He looked so pretty, and he felt so good, and you wanted him closer. It was all too much, you needed to hold something, anything. You needed to pull yourself back down to reality.
“Eds- Eddie, please can I touch you?” your fingers twitch where they’re held above your head, “Wanna feel you- please, i’ve been so good-”
Eddie whines at your sweet pleas, but maintains composure. He wanted to stick to the plan.
“Oh, honey, no” he pouts out at you mockingly, watching the way you strain for anything to grasp and his dick twitches inside you, “No, you gotta give me one first. Can you do that for me, baby?”
Too fucked out to formulate a simple response, you simply sob and nod your head. Your hips start to rock up into his thrusts, but Eddie grabs your hips with one hand and pushes them back down into the sheets. You feel like a live wire.
Then he brings his thumb down to your clit, gently rubbing circles on it, and your eyes clamp shut. He kisses your open mouth and you try your best to kiss him back, but he’s moaning into your mouth, and he’s touching you, and fucking you, and Eddie Munson is fucking you, and it’s all so good that you just can’t.
“Eddie, i’m gonna-” you babble, almost incoherent, feeling the knot getting tighter and tighter, “Please please please don’t stop!”
He puts more pressure on your clit and leaves sweet little kisses on your neck, “I’m not got stop, it’s okay.”
You’re so close you feel like you’re about to explode.
“You can cum for me, princess”
That’s all you needed to see stars, black clouding your vision as he rides out your high, not once stopping or slowing down his pace. You can vaguely hear him talking you down, but nothing registers past your ears ringing.
Then your wrists are released and he’s flipping you over so that you’re on top, straddling him, and your hands and lips are all over him in an instant. In this position he hits your g-spot perfectly, and you can’t help but sob against his chest at the overstimulation.
“Just one more for me, I promise.” he soothes, gently rubbing your hip as his guides your hips back and forth on his cock, making you both cry out. You start to set your own pace riding him, leaning back against his legs to give you the perfect angle.
“You’re so perfect.” He mutters, breathlessly, “My pretty girl- fuck.”
Eddie was now moaning and whining louder and more freely than before, you can tell he’s getting close now too, and you’re already reaching your second climax of the night.
“Wanted you for so long,” Eddie admits, gripping your hip tighter, “can’t believe this is real.”
You whine at the confession, leaning forward to press your lips to the shell of his ear. You make sure to let your pretty noises and praises flow freely, just for him. Your fingers gently brush hairs from his forehead before scratching your way down his chest.
“You fuck me so well, Eds”
“Oh my god- you feel so good”
“Please, Eddie, I wanna feel you cum”
He’s an absolute mess, wrapping both hands around your hips and bending his knees up so that he can fuck you down onto him. “Wanna cum with you sweetheart. Want you to give me another one.” He rambles against your chest, and your nails dig into his shoulders, leaving little red marks behind.
“I’m so close, honey, c’mon. You can give it to me."
You bite and claw at his skin, so close to tipping over the edge.
"Soak me.”
You collapse forward as tears of overstimulation fall onto his inked skin, and he sinks his teeth into your shoulder to ground himself while he paints your walls white. You ride out your highs, clutching each other like a lifeline. When you’re both back on planet earth, he cleans you up nice an gentle, and whispers pretty little praises into your skin as you fall asleep with your limbs intertwined.
“Knew you had a crush on me, princess.”
Let’s just say you no longer have to go apartment hunting!
asks are open!
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mooooonnnzz · 23 days
Note
HIIII I THINK REQUESTS ARE STILL OPEN! in that case can I have something about celebrating your birthday with the pines and co :3 LOVE YOUR WRITING!!! It inspired me to start writing my own gf things, thank you!
Mable's Surprise Birthday Special
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Platonic! Pines Family x Reader
★ BIRTHDAYYY!! FANFICC!!
★ its funny cuz u requested like a day after my bday and then a day before the twins bday like what a perfect timing!!
★ tw: fiddleauthor im kidding i love them sm i had to put fiddleford here
★ 4,5k words
★ gn!reader
★ a silly cute fic!!! i hc soos is a really good baker
★ req r still open!
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“Welcome to Mable’s Birthday Special!” Mable noisily raved directly into the camera that she set up on a stand. “Now, I know what you’re thinking. Mable, it isn’t your birthday! And you’re correct on that. But it’s a special someone's birthday!” She plopped herself on her pink chair, pulling out a large colorful book from below and slamming it on the table. Clouds of glitter powdered the air, a fit of coughs spewing out of her mouth. “Agh, glitter attack!” She croaked out, swatting away the sparkling glitter with her hand. 
Now covered in rainbow glitter, she broadly smiled at the camera. “Now, what was I saying?” She pondered out loud, tapping her chin as she looked up. “Oh!” She jumped up, looking back down at the book that was labeled ‘[Name]’s Birthday Ideas’. 
“My siblings birthday is today!” She opened the book, flipping through an assortment of pages before stopping and striking her hand down on a certain page. “Believe or not, this is all the data I collected on [Name] so I can properly throw a birthday party extravaganza!” She leaned forward, passion flowing out of her. “And today, we are going to throw the best party ever.” 
The footage unexpectedly cuts to another shot where she, Dipper and Wendy were decorating the living room and kitchen. “Hello, my fellow Mabelins!” She feverishly waves at the camera. “We are in the living room!” Dipper peeks his head into frame, his eyebrows furrowing. “Mabelins?” He repeats slowly. “Yeah! Mabelines. That’s what I call my fans.” She motions to the camera. “Mable, no one is going to see this.” Dipper blankly said, rearranging the party streamers in his hand so they wouldn’t get tangled. “Dude, don’t say that. That’ll totally ruin her spark!” Wendy tittered, taping individual letters one by one on the wall. 
“But it’s true. Who’s actually going to sit down and watch Mabel’s videos?” Dipper remarked, taking a measured step up on the chair then onto the table. “[Name] is definitely gonna see this after the party.” Mable leaned in closer to the camera, whispering: “Brothers, am I right?” 
Grabbing the camera, she aimed it at Dipper who was jumping up from the table, trying to stick up the party streamers on the ceiling. Zooming in on him, she spoke in an Australian accent. “And now, we have an orangutan in his natural habitat.” 
Dipper grumbled, stomping his foot down on the wobbly table. “Mab–Ahp!” Dipper fell, taking the table along with him. Mable howled out in laughter, running towards him and capturing him twitching painfully on the floor. “Woah, dude. Are you okay?” Wendy got on one of her knees, helping up Dipper from the ground. Dipper quietly fussed under his breath, sending a deadly glare to Mable who wasn’t even paying attention, too wrapped up in her laughing frenzy. 
“Yeah. I’m fine. Thanks, Wendy.” He dusts himself, picking up the discarded party streamers from the floor. “I’ll hang these up for you, dude. Don’t worry.” She takes the streamers from Dipper’s hand, much against his protests. “I can do them, Wendy. It’s okay!” He watched enviously as Wendy grabbed a chair and stood on it, taping the streamers randomly around the ceiling. “There!” She hops off the chair, putting her hands on her hips and admiring her work. “Now Dipper won’t have to be sent to the hospital on [Name]’s birthday.” 
Dipper sighed out, grabbing a bowl of confetti and sprinkling it all over the floor to make a confetti runway. “Thanks so much, Wendy.” A glum look fell on his face and Mable couldn’t help herself and zoom in on his face. “Poor Dip. Too short for his own good.” Bringing her hand in front of the camera, she waves at it. “I’ll see you in the next part!” 
The footage cuts off to Ford in his red turtle sweater and black jeans, an apron that says ‘Kiss the Chef’ adorning his waist. She aims the camera up at his face. “Say, Grunkle Ford. What are we making today?” 
Uneasily smiling at the camera, he hurriedly stirred the batter. Some splattered out of the bowl and landed on the counter. “We are making a cake!” He tried to sound chipper but he couldn’t hide the distressed look on his face. Oblivious to his stress, she backs up, showing the messy countertop. Batter dripped from the counter and onto the floor where a little goopy pile had been ever so slowly festering. And upon further inspection, Ford had clumps of batter and flour stuck to hair. The white powder was dusted in streaks on his face and clothes. 
“And who’s we?” She spun around for dramatic effect, making her own drumming effects. “Pumpkin, what are you doin’?” Stan walks in, walking past the spinning Mabel and peering his eyes over to the cooking cake in the oven. She stops nowhere near Stan and has to turn back around to show Stan in the frame. “This is my Grunkle Stan! Twin brother of my Grunkle Ford–,” She zooms in on their faces. “--If you couldn’t tell!” 
“Ford, the cake isn’t risin’.” He grabs a mitten and opens the oven. A blast of black smoke wafted into his face. “What?” Ford drops the bowl onto the messy counter, walking over to Stan who was coughing like a maniac while waving the mitten around to disperse the cloud of smoke. “How is it not rising? We added baking powder into the cake, didn’t we?” He snatches the mitten from Stan and slips it on. Grabbing the steaming pan, he placed it on the counter. “Is it supposed to be that color?” Stan grimaces at the muddied charcoal black cake. “How is the consistency still the same an hour later!” Ford scooped the slimy goo and watched it grossly plop back down on the pan. “Who’s taste testing the cake?” Mable curiously asked. Ford and Stan looked at each other before sticking their hand out, yelling, “Not it!” 
The clip cuts to Ford and Stan violently spewing out the cake into the sink or trash can. “What are we doing wrong!” Stan forced out through gags. “I don’t know!” Ford heaves out into the sink. “What’s goin’ on?” Fiddleford saunters into the chaotic kitchen with Soos following behind him. “Hey, dudes!” He waves at Ford and Stan who are still coughing into the sink and trash can. “Hey, Grunkle Fiddleford! Hey, Soos!” Mable turned the camera over to the newcomers. 
Fiddleford stepped into the kitchen, careful with where he put his feet down and went over to Ford’s side. He put his hand on Ford’s back and moved his hand up and down in a comforting manner. “Darlin’, what in the hell happened here?” 
“Me and Stan tried making cake.” The mention of cake has Ford’s stomach churning once again. “Oh, yikes.” He breathes out, teeth bared. “Hun, why don’t ya sit down with Stan? Me and Soos can handle this, right Soos?” Soos’s head perks up at hearing his name. “Yeah! We can make a pizza cake out of real pizza with like, ten layers!” Stan cringes. “That doesn’t sound right.” 
Stan sweetly smiles at Fiddleford. “Thank you, my love.” Fiddleford matches his smile, giving him a chaste kiss on the lips. “Ewww!!” Mable shields the camera with the palm of her hand. “Cover yer eyes, Mable!” Fiddleford laughs. “You don’t have to ask me twice!” 
Another clip plays and it's Mable marveling at a beautifully made and decorated tall 8 layered cake. “Now this is how you make a cake!” She dips her finger towards the cake to snag a bit of frosting when she was scooped up by Stan. “No, you don’t!” He moves her away from the cake, placing her back down on the floor. “I feel like out of all the people here, I thought you’d be so strict on not letting anyone touch or eat cake.” 
“I just grow weak in the knees when I see a cake as beautiful as that one.” Mable stared at it starry eyed. “Alright, that’s enough of that.” His hand flop around the camera as he attempts to find the turn off button. “Okay, so how can I turn this o–” 
The next clip is Soos delightfully munching on cake with Mable beside him. “We just couldn’t resist!” Mable says with her mouth full of cake. “I just wanted some cake, dude!” 
Footsteps approach the kitchen and both Mable and Soos look at each other with fear stricken on their faces. Jumping off the chair, she grabs her plate of cake and shoves it into her sweater. Soos shoves the whole piece into his mouth, smearing the frosting and cake crumbs all over his mouth. 
“Grunkle Ford, have you seen my–” Dipper stops dead in his tracks, eyes wide at the marvelous cake. “Is this the cake I heard Grunkle Fiddleford talk about?” He whispers, his eyes looking over to Mable and Soos who were rigid statues. 
“This thing?” Mable jabs a thumb in its general direction. “I have no idea what this is!” She nervously laughs out, pieces of crumbled cake sludge out of her sweater and plops down on the floor. “Righhhtt…” Dipper takes a step back. “I’ll leave you two alone.” He sends a cautionary glance at Soos and Mable before walking out. “Phew!” Soos wipes his forehead with his forearm. “That was close, wasn’t it?” 
“Super close.” She grabs on a piece of cake that was in her sweater and munches on it. She offers one out to Soos who happily takes it and shovels it into his mouth. 
The clip choppily jumps to the entrance door to the gift shop. “Stan went out to grab [Name] cause we kinda left them alone in the mall. Sorry not sorry [Name]! But he’s getting them over here, so any minute they’re going to come in here!” Mable whispers to the camera. She’s hiding behind a can of monster eyes, the camera very obviously on top of the canisters. “Dipper is hiding in a box full of plastic peanuts. Soos is behind the counter with Wendy, they have party poppers in their hands. Fiddleford and Ford are in the living room. They’re act two.” She brought up two fingers and wiggled them. 
Distance voices could be heard coming from outside the shack. “They’re here, they’re here!” She loudly whispers. 
“Who’s idea was it to leave me in the mall?” Mable you ask. She snickered quietly and pointed at herself, the culprit of the idea. “We didn’t leave you at the mall? We were there with you.” Stan terribly lied and you saw right through it. “Grunkle Stan, I don’t know why you lie so much.” 
The knob of the door jostles a bit, altering everyone that they were here before it opened. “Why is it so dark–” 
“Surprise!” Popping noises came from Soos and Wendy and clumped up colorful strings fell on top of your head. Dipper tripped out of the box full of peanuts, running over to give you a self-Mable made birthday sash. “Oh!” You grab the sash, slinging it around you with a chuckle. “What is all of this?” 
“Happy birthday!” Mable popped out from behind the cans, camera in hand. “Say hello to the camera [Name]!” You gave a shy wave. “Was this the reason why I was left behind at the mall?” You remove the colorful strings off your hair and throw it at Stan who sputters in surprise. “Yeah! And there’s one last surprise.” 
“Happy Birthday!” Ford and Fiddleford jump out of the living room doorway into the gift shop, blowing a party horn into your face. 
“OH MY–” 
The frame freezes on you midway screaming for a second before it switches to a whole new piece of footage where Ford is covering your eyes, blindly leading you into the kitchen where your eaten cake resides. “Okay, ready?” Ford looks at you, a huge excited smile playing at his lips. “No, not really.” 
Ford ignores you and peels back his hands and bestows you the beautiful sight of your unnaturally tall wobbling cake. “That’s a really tall cake.” You watch it dangerously wobble to the side. “Is the cake supposed to be wobbling?” You ask, looking around to see everyone’s mortified faces and two stray guilt stricken expressions. “What? That’s ain’t supposed to be happenin’…”  
Fiddleford approaches the cake and oggles it, his eyes landing on a certain spot on the backside of the cake, a wave of fury flashes on his face before he calms himself down and very sweetly smiles at the little crowd gathered in the kitchen. 
The camera catches Mable’s nervous gulp. 
“Who was takin’ big chomps of the cake me and Soos made?” His voice betrayed his sweet smile with how snappy he sounded. 
“Wasn’t me. I was with Dipper decorating.” Wendy coolly said. “Y-Yeah! We were.” Dipper solidifies his alibi, eyes locking with Mable’s anxious ones. “You can’t point any fingers at me! I was real busy gettin’ [Name] back from the mall.” Stan lifted his hands up defensively. “Again, out of all the options, why mall?” You grumbled under your breath. 
“I was with you the whole time, Fidds.” Fiddleford smiled at Ford, his voice sickeningly sweet when he spoke to Ford. “I know, hun.” Then he changes back to finding the culprits who ate his cake. “He’s really serious about that cake we ate.” Soos spoke into Mabel’s ear loudly. Fiddleford’s gaze locked down onto Mable and Soos.
“Mable, sweetheart. Could ya quit recordin’ just for a quick second.” 
The footage cuts to a somber Mabel sitting in a cold desolate corner with Soos on the other end. “I got put in the naughty corner! What is this joke!” Mable threw her hands up in the air dramatically, having them flop down to her sides with a loud melodramatic sigh. 
“It’s only just for a bit, pumpkin! After we set up the table you’ll be back here! Same goes for you, Soos!” Stan’s gruff spoke from the kitchen.
“Okay, thanks Mr. Pines!” 
“Ugh, we shouldn’t have ever eaten that cake.” Mable dragged a heavy hand down her face, pulling at it. Soos’s stomach roared in hunger. A laugh leaves Soos, his attention turning to Mable. “Do you still have some of that cake in your sweater? I’m kinda hungry.” 
“I think so? Let me check.” She digs her hand into her shirt and pulls out a clump of cake that had strands of hair and sweater fuzz on it. “Our last one.” Mable whispered dejectedly. 
“Mable, do you have your camera?” Ford peeks his head out of the kitchen to see Mable handing a mysterious ball to Soos, the camera in front of her. “You’re not supposed to have this, missy.”
“I know.” She frowns deeply when Ford snatches up her pink glitter camera. Ford fumbles with it a bit, the last shot before the scene switched was Soos taking a hearty bite of the ball of cake.
“Is this thing working?” Stan’s voice spoke from behind the camera. “Yeah, it’s working.” Wendy confirmed, tapping at the blaring red light to signal its recording. “Today is [Name]’s birthday! Right, sweetie?” He accidentally shoves the camera right at your face.
“Woah, okay!” You giggled, carefully pushing Stan away from you. “It is my birthday. I think you all are more excited about it than me.” 
Wendy walks over to you with a party hat in hand. “It's like you’re asking for us to forget it.” She hands you the hat. “If any of you ever forget my birthday, you will not hear the end of it!” You glared at everyone, pointing at them in a smooth motion with your party hat.
“They’re not kidding, guys.” Dipper’s eyes have a distant traumatized look to them. “I have seen it firsthand.” Stan added, flipping the camera to his traumatized face before flipping it back onto you. 
You snap the party hat on you with a smile. “I feel stupid being the only one with a party hat.” You walk over to the box full of party hats and grab an armful of party hats. “Tune in and find out if I’m able to put party hats on everyone!” You make a swooshing noise as your hand descends on the camera, palm covering the lens. 
“Stan, that’s when you stop record—“ 
The next set of footage had everyone, even the ones who were grounded for a short while, all huddled up in a group, party hats on. “I got them to all wear party hats!” You cheered, picking up Waddle’s who innocently trudged into the kitchen. “Even Waddles has one.” You cooed at the pig before putting him back down on the floor. “Okay, everyone disperse! Time to start singin’ happy birthday.” Fiddleford announced. 
Everyone surrounds the decorated table with the wobbling cake. Each shove and push to the table had Fiddleford sucking a nervous breath in.
“Okay, ready?” Ford held up three fingers and started counting down by three. 
The whole room erupted into singing the second all of Ford's fingers were down. “Happy birthday to you! Happy Birthday to you! Happy birthday to [Name]! Happy birthday to youuuu!”
“Make a wish! Make a wish!” Mable thrummed her hand against the table. The cake shook and trembled and everyone watched with bated breath. 
The cake stills and everyone lets out a sigh of relief. “Welp, wasn’t that close? Am I right?” Stan laughs, slapping his hand on the table. “Stanley!”
The cake plunges down, splattering everyone with its frosting and filling. Silence filled the room. 
Waddles squeaks happily at the delicious treat, feasting on the piece of cake on the floor. You lick around your lips, grabbing a taste of the cake. “Mmm! This is good. Fiddleford, Soos, you guys really did a good job on making the cake!” 
“Thanks [Name]!” Soos is wolfing down a piece of his own cake that had showered all over him. “Glad ya like it, sweetheart..” Fiddleford sighed out, plopping his head on Ford’s shoulder. 
“My camera!” Mable cried out, darting over to her camera that was weighing down from heavy frosting. She fortunately caught it in her hand, wiping off the icing with the sleeve of her sweater and accidently turning off the camera. 
The footage clips to the last video Mable took of the day. You were sitting down on a chair, a table full of gift bags and hand wrapped objects filled the table. “We are now opening presents!” Mable exclaimed, chucking a fist full of glitter in the air. “Ah, my eye!” Stan screeched out, sprinting into the kitchen to run water over his eye, bumping into the camera in the process. “Grunkle Stan! Be careful.” Mable held the camera stand, keeping it still. After a few minutes of hearing running water, Stan walks out with an irritated eye. “Open, open!” Mable chanted. 
You pluck a gift from the table, flipping it on its back to read the name sharpied on it. “Okay, the first gift is from…” You squinted, reading it out. “Grunkle Ford!” You show the mysterious gift to everyone. Curious questions left their mouths as you opened the book shape gift. Shedding the last piece of gift wrapper, you saw what you had gotten. “A book on quantum physics?” You let out a pensive ‘hm’. 
“You could never go wrong with math!” He proclaimed, sticking out a finger into the air. You awkwardly laugh. “Yeah, thanks Grunkle Ford.” You look under the table to see Waddle’s resting on his belly. “Here, Waddles. I got a new toy for you.” You whisper, waving the book in front of his face. He brings his snout to the book, sniffing it before letting out a snort. He grabs the book with his mouth and places it down on the floor, he pads around it for a minute and flops down on the book, snuggling into it. 
“Next gift!” You pop your head out from under the table and grab the next gift by its handles. You stuck your hand inside and latched onto something. Pulling it out, you came face to face with a Mystery Shack coupon. You didn’t even need to guess who this was from. “Really Grunkle Stan?” 
“Oh, shut it. There’s one more thing left in there!” 
You place the card on the table and dig your hand back into the bag. You grabbed onto a bottle and took your hand out, your eyes widening at the wine bottle. “Um?” You warily look at Stan whose jaw is dropped on the floor. “Who put that there?” Stan marched over to you and took the bottle of wine from your hand. A few quiet snickers came from Dipper and Mable. “That’s my bottle. You get your own.” 
“Uhm?” You look back down in the gift bag and flip it upside down. A wad of neatly folded cash plopped down on your lap. Your eyes brighten and you look over to Stan who’s smiling proudly to himself. “Is this real cash?” You grab the cash from your lap and inspect the dollar bills. “How in the world would I ever give ya fake money? Put some more faith in your Grunkle!” 
You gleefully put the cash back into the side and place it beside you. “Up next is…” You grab a hold of a large square wrapped in Christmas wrapping. The name Soos was elegantly written on the wrapping paper. “Soos!” 
“Yes!” Soos pumps his fist in the air. “You are going to love it, dude!”
Peeling off the wrapping paper revealed the gift to be your favorite music artist vinyl. “Soos! These are expensive, how did you get this?” 
Soos glanced over to Stan and looked back at you. “I have my ways!” He smiled. 
You put the vinyl in your bag with the cash and moved to the next present. Fiddleford’s gift was next and he had given you a beautiful heartfelt note accompanied with a photo of you, Fiddleford and Ford. You thought that was it when he told you to shake the envelope with a wink. A few couple hundred bucks fell out that had you gasping for air. 
“There’s no way you just copied me, Fidds.” Stan pointed an accusatory finger at him. “We just had the same idea, Stanley.”
“Grunkles, Grunkles! Please, no fighting.” Mable stood in between them, her hands flat against their stomachs. “My gift is next and [Name] needs their full attention on it!” 
Mable’s gift was a conflicting mess. You couldn’t decide if it was cute or oddly weird. She had given you a scrapbook, innocent at first, but opening the book showed that she had been harvesting everyone’s hair and gluing them in the book, crudely making a heart full of hair with your name spelt in cursive on the inside. The pages following had copious amounts of glitter, stickers and the strong scent of glue, but they were pretty normal enough, sharing memories of you, her and Dipper in some pages and then others had the family all together. Then there was a page that had you sit back and question your sister's mental wellbeing. She had a whole page dedicated to candid photos she had snapped of you while you weren’t looking. 
She had a photo of you sleeping, brushing your teeth, talking to Stan, playing ddnmd with Ford and Dipper, etc. And to make it a little more weirder, she had made everyone write little comments of what was their favorite thing in the picture. At least what everyone wrote was normal…
“Mable, thank you very—“ 
“—Go to the last page!”
You flip to the last page that was blank. A puzzled look formed on your face and you opened your mouth to ask Mable what was this when you were pelted with a wave of confetti, glitter and sprinkles. A drawing of everyone holding hands launched out of the book and harmoniously started singing happy birthday. Mable started singing along, busting down her own moves, satisfied with the gift she gave you. 
You were coughing up glitter and confetti for the next few minutes. Stan came up behind you to pluck the stray sprinkles that got caught in your hair. Waddles made the gracious effort to clean the floor by eating the sprinkles and a bit of the confetti.
Dipper’s gift was more sentimental. In a rainbow colored envelope, made by yours truly Mable, was a letter that Mable and him collaborated on and wrote together such a nice letter that you doubted if your younger siblings really had made this themselves. With teary eyes, you opened your arms wide and they didn’t waste a moment to run up to you and jump in your arms. 
“That really sweet, thank you guys.” 
You held them in your arms for a minute or two before they let you go and went back to their spot. 
Wendy’s gift was a nice way to top everything off. Seems like she had roped everyone in it and made this whole poster board full of their favorite moments that you had shared with everyone. Branching from embarrassing ones that some were unfortunately captured by Mabel’s trusty camera to unforgettable beautiful memories.
“Who came up with this idea?” You ask with a laugh, looking at a pinned photo where you were mid horrified face when Stan was cannonballing into the pool. He was halfway in, water already sprouting out and ready to splash you and drown Dipper and Mabel. 
“It was a mix of Grunkle Ford and Mable. They’re surprisingly creative when put together.” Wendy said, jerking a thumb over to Mable high sixing Ford. “You guys really went all out for this, didn’t you?” You smile softly. A mix of playful scoffs and ‘of course!’ filled the room. “Who wouldn’t want to go all out for you?” Stan wrapped an arm around your neck, pulling you in a side hug. “I think we might need to drill that into yer head. Yer jus’ full of sugar, who wouldn’t want to give ya such an amazin’ birthday?” Fiddleford affectionately ruffled your hair. 
Ford hugged your other side, slipping a note in your hand. “Is this another sappy note that’s going to make me cry?” Ford chuckles, nodding. “Group hug without us? What is Mable going to say?” Wendy joked. “She’s probably going to kill them.” Dipper laughed. “Who’s killing wh–” She turns around and gasps loudly. “Group hug!” She grabs Soos’s hand and practically hurls herself into the hug. “Dipper, Wendy. Get in here!” They join in on the hug. 
“Happy Birthday [Name].” Dipper tried his best to at least give you a slight hug but everyone was so jumbled up together, all he could do was pat his head against your upper stomach. Everyone else joined in and told you happy birthday. Snuggling further into the hug, you smiled. “Thank you guys.” 
A warning beep rings in the air. “What is that?” Soos asks. Another final warning beep. “Oh my god! My camera!” Mable shuffles out of the hug and darts over to her camera. The frame freezes on Mable reaching out for her camera with everyone staring at the cameras with wide owl eyes. 
Pink glitter mixed in with blue plain text faded into the screen saying ‘Happy Birthday to the best sibling in the world!’ and the video ends. 
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Taglist: @boredwithlifeatthispoint, @lovexsage, @teddycricketdream, @theilluminatidragonqueen, @raventeen @cedarmoonzz, @katharine3000
dm or comment if you want to be added/removed!!
i also posted my first fic on ao3!! it's a fiddleauthor drabble cuz i just love them sm. so if anyone wants to check it out the title of it is Amore Mio Aiutami (Main Theme) n my username barbatoz!! :p i'll only post fiddleauthor and billford over there :3
283 notes · View notes
moonstruckme · 6 months
Note
hey lovely! if you’re up to it, would you be able to write something w james or remus with comforting a reader who’s insecure about her skin/having broken out? i’m totally not projecting (i get chronic rashes on my face and one broke out recently and it’s making me sooo self conscious because my birthday is soon and i wanted to feel pretty 😖)
thank you!! mwah!!!
xoxo @mareagirls
Hi Rosa my love! Thank you for requesting and happy early birthday!!
cw: reader is insecure about her skin
Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 750 words
You scrub at your skin with your fingertips, pads pressing harshly as you distribute the cleanser over your face. Then turn the tap as cold as it can go, splashing water and scrubbing again to make sure the product is all gone. 
“Alright, enough of that,” says Remus as you towel your face dry. You look up to see your boyfriend watching you in the mirror from the bedroom. He tents his book beside him on the bed, beckoning you over. “Come here, bring your stuff.” 
You turn around to look at him. “Why?” 
You can see Remus intentionally smoothing the pique from his expression, gentling it into something kinder. “Just come sit with me, please.” 
You gather your things off the bathroom counter, carrying them into the bedroom and plopping down in front of him on the bed. Remus knows your routine. He takes a washcloth from you wordlessly, wetting it with product. 
“Close your eyes.” 
You do, and he starts swiping the product gently over your skin, starting at your jawline and working his way slowly upwards, following the planes of your face. His free hand is wrapped loosely around the side of your neck to steady the both of you. 
“Why are you doing this?” you murmur, trying not to move your face as you speak. 
“Couldn’t stand seeing you look so angry with yourself,” Remus replies, matching your volume. His voice is low and raspy, inlaid still with traces of frustration. You hadn’t realized you had been looking like that. “S’like you’ve no idea how pretty you are.” 
There’s a thick pause. The washcloth shushes over the skin of your forehead, and you can feel Remus’ gaze boring into your shuttered lids. 
“I know you think I just say that,” he says, setting the washcloth down on your leg. You open your eyes, and he’s squirting moisturizer onto the pad of his index finger. His eyes flit up to yours, the color of honey or perfectly steeped tea. You look away. “I don’t. I wouldn’t bother saying anything if you weren’t as lovely as you are, and it’s insane that you don’t know it yourself. I mean, we’re looking at the same face, aren’t we?” 
Your lips twist upwards as you close your eyes and Remus sets his hands to your face again. He smooths the moisturizer into your skin with thorough, loving strokes. 
“I do feel pretty, sometimes,” you admit. “Just not so much when my skin is acting up like this.” 
“Not sure how that changes anything.” His voice is gruff, audibly judgemental in the way you’re sure only he can manage. It coaxes a soft laugh from you, and Remus’ thumb swipes extra affectionately over your cheekbone, approving. His tone lightens. “Really, dove, it’s not like the rest of you just disappears because you’ve broken out. You’re just as lovely. I’m not sure anything could change that, short of reconstructive surgery I suppose.” 
You roll your eyes. They’re still closed, but you hope he sees the motion anyway. “You’re being too nice to me. I know it’ll go away eventually, but it’s still not the same as when my skin is clear.” 
“It’s not,” Remus allows. “Of course it’s not the same. But that’s like saying I’m not the same with my scars as I was without them. And I still managed to snag you all mangled-looking.” 
You open your eyes, despite his hands still moving over your face. “You’re not mangled-looking,” you say. You know Remus knows this, but it feels important to tell him anyway. “I love you with your scars.” 
He smiles softly, and you close your eyes again, satisfied. “Then you see what I’m getting at,” he says. “I love you like this, just the same as when your skin looked a bit different.” His touch arcs over your eyebrow. “And everyone else loves you just the same, too.” 
You hum, a pleased sort of capitulation. “You’re such a sweet talker.” 
“Doesn’t take much imagination to tell the truth.” You can hear Remus’ smile. “You’re always lovely, dove, but I like you best when you look like you feel lovely, too.”
“I’ll try,” you say. He hums satisfiedly, thumbs brushing twin paths across your cheeks. “Is there really still product to rub in?” 
“Mm, not strictly speaking.” Remus’ lips press, soft and sweet, to your freshly moisturized cheek. He doesn’t seem to mind the bumps. “But I think I’d better do this a while longer just to be sure.” 
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swanlakebaby · 5 months
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— dressing room quickie | pjm
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prompt: hooking up in the dressing room.
⸝⸝ pairing: richbf!jimin x fem!reader
⸝⸝ warnings: smut, bf jimin, bf material, public sex, bj, creampie, swallowing, kissing, sub gf, dom jimin, quickie
⸝⸝ word count: 2.1k
⸝⸝ note: i didn't mean to be gone for almost a WEEK...i have too many story ideas planned out and couldn't figure out what to start with and ended up not writing at all. i'm trying to post stories every 2-3 days but clearly i'm inconsistent with that ;(
-- ALSO i've been thinking about wanting to start a series of some sort so if you have ideas please send them in the requests. i'll give credit to whoever i choose, dw! requests for other story prompts are open too. thanks for reading!
nsfw, 18+, minors dni
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''which one?'' you ask , holding up two skirts in front of of your legs. jimin looks down and thinks for a moment. ''im not sure. you can get both.''
you glance at him. ''i know it's supposed to be a shopping spree but i don't want to get things i don't like just because i can.'' you look back in forth between the two skirts , feeling conflicted. ''i told you i'm paying , it doesn't matter. if it doesn't work out you can return it.''
''i want to be sure.'' you say softly. ''what color suits me? pink or white?'' you look up at him. ''you look good in anything.'' jimin wraps his arms around you. ''that's not a real answer. just help me please.'' jimin smiles and grabs your hand , walking to the back of the store. there , an employee stands , looking down at a table. she looks up at the couple as they approach her.
''hello , looking to try something on?'' she asks. you nod and lift up the two skirts. ''great , come with me.'' she walks down the hallway full of dressing rooms until she finds a vacant room. ''thank you.'' you say with a smile as you walk in. jimin shuts the door behind him as he walks in after you.
''um , excuse you.'' you say , furrowing your eyebrow at him. ''i've seen you naked before , go ahead.'' he sits down on the small bench and relaxes his muscles. ''what a pervert.'' you giggle as jimin reaches forward and playfully smacks your thigh.
you put down the skirts and begin to slip off your shoes and jeans. you grab the white skirt and begin sliding them on. ''what do you think?'' you do a little spin as you show off the skirt. ''mmm.'' jimin mumbles. ''turn again.''
you spin again , this time stepping closer to jimin. ''it looks great. put the other one on.'' he says. you do so, taking off the white skirt and putting it back on its hanger before grabbing the pink one. you put it on , this time standing in front of the mirror. ''i think this one is better.'' you say , analyzing yourself in the mirror. jimin slowly rises and stands behind you.
the warmth of his body heat made you nervous. you always suddenly felt self cautious anytime he was too close to you. ''so?'' you mumble anxiously. jimin places his hands on your sides , looking down at your neck. ''get it.'' he whispers. goosebumps trail down your back as he says this , almost making you shiver.
''weren't there others?'' you ask him. ''i think so. i'll be back.'' jimin steps back and exits the dressing room , heading back into the main part of the store. you take off the skirt and sit on the bench as you wait for jimin to get back.
a few minutes go by and you begin peeking your head out of the dressing room. you see jimin walking back towards you with four different skirts. ''really?'' you say sarcastically as jimin plops the skirts down onto the bench. he sits down beside them and hands you the first one. you take it and begin sliding them on. ''i don't like it.'' you say , tilting your head to the side in the mirror. ''i love florals but the fabric feels too harsh.''
jimin rubs his finger tips onto the fabric. ''i thought so too. next one.'' he grabs the next skirt and hands it to you. ''it's very summerish.'' you say , swinging side to side as the dress carelessly sways with your movements. ''i like it. it would be cute for a picnic date , don't you think?'' you smile down at him as you consider the idea. ''i think so. it looks pretty on you.''
time continues to go by as you try on these skirts. ''are we almost near the end?'' you say , growing impatient. ''yes hold on , here's the last one.'' jimin holds the skirt. you hold out your hand and wait for him to give it to you , but he doesn't. ''come here.'' he says. you step forward. jimin bends over a bit , holding the skirt open for your legs to go through. you hold onto his shoulders and slowly lift your legs one by one. jimin pulls the skirt up over you. ''i love it.'' he says.
''of course you do. it's short as hell.''
jimin giggles , rubbing your legs. ''it suits you.'' he says. ''i'm not so sure.'' you say in response. ''it's not like you have to wear it out anywhere.'' jimin whispers. ''then why would i get it?'' you cross your arms and shake your head , not quite understanding his logic. ''because i can just fuck you in it.'' jimin tugs at the skirt , looking for the price tag. ''really? be serious!'' you softly push him. ''i'm so serious.'' he stands up and looks down at you. you feel the energy in the room shift as jimin hovers above you. ''well-'' you begin feeling nervous all over again. you play with the ends of the skirt as you think of a response.
jimin smirks , knowing the affect he had on you was too much to hide. he holds your waist , running his hands over the soft velvet fabric of the skirt slowly. he bends his neck downward and gives you a small kiss. ''let's test it out.'' he says. your eyes go wide a tiny bit as the words slip out of his mouth. ''here?'' you whisper , listening to the sounds of others in their own dressing rooms as they shopped normally.
''i promise to be quiet if you will.'' jimin pulls you closer , beginning to gently rub your butt. the idea sounded tempting but you didn't wanna risk getting caught over jimin's horny shenanigans. ''i don't know..'' you say. ''let me change your mind then.'' jimin whispers as he steps back from you. he turns you around and pushes himself up against your back. you feel his bulge poke at you and swallow hard as you get increasingly more nervous to do what you're about to do.
jimin looks down as lifts up the skirt over your hips , grabbing onto your panties and roughly sliding them down. he pushes you forward against the wall. you hold onto it and stand still as jimin continues undressing you. he wraps his arms around your torso and begins to slowly unbutton your shirt. he looks into the mirror as he watches himself play with your breasts in a teasing manner.
he suddenly stops , freezing at the sound of people walking past the dressing room. once he feels the coast is clear he continues once again. he lowers his lips onto your shoulders , giving them soft kisses as he tightly clings onto the sides of your body. he moves slowly as he lets go and begins to unbutton his jeans. you turn your head and stare as he pulls out his cock.
still limp , you reach back and start rubbing on it , trying to get him hard as quickly as possible. you bring your hand to your mouth and spit , before reaching back and rubbing it over his cock. he softly groans as he becomes hard. you continue this motion for a few moments until eventually jimin becomes impatient and grabs onto your hair , pushing you forward against the wall and lifting your leg onto the dressing room bench.
you felt exposed as jimin bends down. he ducks under your thighs , lifting the one that rested on the bench. he puts his face forward , engulfing you. you shake as the feeling of his wet tongue touches the sensitive parts of your vagina. you cover your mouth , trying your best to not make noises. he continues eating you out , making soft groaning noises as he does so.
after only a few seconds of this , jimin stands back up. he wipes his mouth and slaps his dick against your butt. you whine , feeling super aroused and impatient now. you put your leg down and grab onto one side of jimin's pants. he holds his cock in one hand and uses the other to cling onto your wrist.
he slides into you , softly groaning. you turn to look at him. ''don't make noise.'' you whisper in a paranoid tone. he chuckles , not taking you seriously. he softly strokes in and out of you , quickly making you wet. he grips onto the sides of your hips and starts to go at a faster pace. soft wet sounds can be heard as jimin slams himself into you.
you push against his chest , making him stop. he slides out of you and sits on the bench. ''you're making too much noises.'' you say , sneaking a peek from under the door. ''i'm not.'' he whispers , running his hands through his hair and sitting up straight , lifting his cock. you turn your back facing him and slowly slide down on it. you sit still for a minute , adjusting to the feeling of his inches deep inside of you.
then , you begin to grind on him. jimin lays his head back onto the wall and closes his eyes with pleasure. ''you feel so good...'' he mumbles out. you smirk and continue grinding on him , quickly going faster. you place your hands on his knees and fuck yourself onto his cock , stiff inside of you. jimin grabs onto your hair and pulls it back as you bounce on him in a fast motion. he wraps it around his fist and tugs on it slightly , not pulling with full force.
the skirt slips over your butt as you continue riding him. jimin lets go of your hair and lifts up the fabric , staring down and watching as you throw yourself onto his cock.
you feel your knees weaken and let go of jimins knees. you bend forward , ready to cum. your pants become heavier and moan like as you finish onto him. at the same time , jimin stands and begins pounding you like crazy. you press up against the dressing room door. strings of your cum spilling out of you and sticking to your bodies. jimin lowly grunts , slamming into you as he creampies you. his chest moves up and down rapidly as he catches his breath.
you feel your insides becoming sticky and wet as you're now filled up with his cum. he slowly pulls out , watching as you stay bent over , allowing his cum to slowly slip out of you. you then fully stand , the fabric once again covering your butt. jimin grabs onto your neck and kisses it harshly , his eyes hazy from the satisfaction of cumming inside of you.
jimin pulls his pants back up and stuffs his cock back into his boxers. he adjusts his hair and looks in the mirror. his cheeks were a faint red color. he pressed down on them with his fingers , wanting it to go away.
he grabs onto the skirts you didn't want and grabs the handle of the dressing room door. you bend down quickly and grab onto his pants. you didn't feel finished just yet and still wanted to taste him. he notices this and smirks. ''we shouldn't risk it again.'' he says. ''i'm sure some people heard.''
you wait as he opens the door and leaves to return the clothing items to the employee. you stay down as you wait for him to come back. when he does , he giggles at you still being on your knees. you tug on his pants and pull them down , his still hard cock springing out. it was still wet with your cum , only turning you on even more.
jimin stands at the doorway , looking to both sides of the hallway. when he confirms that nobody is around , you shove his cock into your mouth. he skips a breath , placing a hand on your head. you suck him clean , licking off all of the cum on his dick. you were certain people could hear , but the paranoia of being caught quickly went as it came. jimin grabs onto your hair , starting to fuck your mouth. you look up at him with watery eyes as you let him.
he looks back down at you , his eyes half lidded. he suddenly stuffs his cock into your mouth , his body tensing up. you feel warm strings of cum trail down your throat as you swallow every last drop. jimin curses under his breath before making you stand back up , not wanting to continue any longer , knowing the chances of being caught were getting higher. ''put your clothes on.'' he whispers tiredly. you do so, taking off the skirt and putting your jeans and shoes back on.
you fix your hair up and grab your purse to re-apply your lipstick. he grabs the skirts and holds onto your hand as you exit the dressing room to go check out.
480 notes · View notes
restlesspazzi04 · 2 months
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Love Island: A Pazzi Fic
Part 1: Day 3
Genre: I've somehow managed to think up a forbidden love/enemies to lovers/reformed player/slow burn love island fic all together so imma pat myself on the back bc ive been getting so many asks for all five
A/N:
This is just the introduction chapter to a series that will be very loosely updated as it's more of a fun project i'm working on but hope you guys enjoy because this is just me riding off the love island hyperfixation im in lol
Extra Note: this is will be on tumblr only mainly bc this series will be trash and purely for my self entertainment so idc as much. slow falling will remain on ao3 only :)
ik some people have difficulty reading on tumblr tho so if i get enough asks i will put this on ao3 if its easier
word count: 3.2k (this will fluctuate depending on my mood)
Format Clarification:
When the contestant name is in front of the text, that means it's a cutaway and not actually said in the villa!
anything in italics is to be read in Iain Stirling voice please i love him
-
Day 3:
It's day 3 and it's heating up in the villa! Will the current couples pass the test of temptation as two new bombshells enter for the ultimate challenge? Find out here on Love Island USA: WLW Sports Edition! 
When Paige first got the call that she was nominated for Love Island, she knew who put her name in the sea of women’s athletes picked for the show. With her social media agents wanting to get the “player” allegations away from her image to make herself more marketable, she was a shoo-in for the show. 
Paige was confident in her coupling. Ellie, the Olympic swimmer from Australia, was up her ally of girls: hot, brunette, and gay. They had been going strong for the first three days in the villa, with Ellie picking Paige on Day 1 coupling. In the mess of drama the other couples were whirlwind into, they had remained together as a voice of reason. 
“I’m just not really feeling her I don’t know,” Kate groans, slapping the ping pong ball back to Paige. 
“Bro it’s been three days and you’re already tired of your match? Couldn’t be me.” Paige responds, returning the ball. 
Kate and Paige being the only WNBA athletes in the villa naturally stuck together as close friends, being each other's confidants on Love Island. They had the common ground of basketball solidifying their sisterhood and frequently took each other's advice.
“It’s not that. I just feel like there’s no spark. Sarah is great and all, but I can’t imagine spending the rest of my villa time with her.”
“Why don’t you explore your options tonight if we recouple? That’ll start some crazy drama.” Paige laughs mischievously, wiggling her eyebrows at an unamused Kate Martin. 
“All the other couples are pretty locked in and I don’t wanna be a homewrecker… plus they’re probably bringing in new bombshells today if I got the formula right. Hopefully, they’re my type because I don’t think it’s working out for me and Sarah. ” 
“New bombshells? I mean none of them better be basketball players. That’s Ellie’s type to a T. It was hard enough fighting against you.” Paige jokes, slightly concerned at the idea of new people. It wasn’t like she and Ellie were completely locked in, but Paige knew she’d be at risk of getting kicked off the show if any of the new bombshells coupled up with Ellie.
“Ellie is not my type. She’s too nice. I need some passion in my girl." 
“I like nice. She’s sweet and brings me orange juice in the morning.” Paige says, dropping her paddle when Kate sends the ball flying past her head, "Drama stresses me out. That's why Ellie is perfect for me."
“Nah, I like a little fight. It’s hot when a girl is mad at you… you should know better than me ‘Miss Star Point Guard on the Golden State Valkyries’. Aren’t women always fighting over you?” 
“I already told you I’m not a player in the real world or the villa. Why does no one on the island believe me?” Paige exclaims, plopping down on the way-to-colorful couch in the Villa playroom. 
“I don’t know… maybe you’re insane eye contact with everyone you meet?” Kate says sarcastically, taking her seat next to Paige. 
“Blame my parents! They’re the ones who told me that eye contact is respectful." Paige argues before adding, "I can’t help I got beautiful eyes.” 
“Shut u-"
Kate is effectively cut off when KK Harvey starts screaming "I GOT A TEXT" throughout the entire villa, everyone making their way to the poolside where she was sitting.
"Islanders please gather at the fire pit for a surprise! #WatchOutCouples #Bout to drop a bomb!" KK reads loudly, the whole villa shouting in response.
"Welp, I guess this is your moment to find a new girl." Paige sighs, making her way over to the fire pit.
"Not yours?"
"Nope, I'm pretty happy with Ellie."
"You sure about that? Not even keeping an open eye?" Kate teased, ragging on Paige's loyalty.
"I'm definitely not re-coupling with some newcomer." Paige asserts firmly. 
"If you say so." 
-
As the Islanders all flock to the firepit, taking their seats next to their partners, they await for further instruction. 
“I GOT A TEXT!” Kate hoots out as the other islanders get excited, “It says ‘Get ready as your two new bombshells join you guys in the villa! #AreYouReady?’”
Paige looks over at Ellie, who’s already gripping tighter on Paige’s arm at the news of Bombshells. 
“I hope they’re not your type,” Ellie whispers shyly into Paige’s ear. It was a cute gesture, one that should’ve made Paige blush. Paige just gives her a reassuring squeeze on the arm, leaning in to whisper back. 
“I already got a beautiful girl, don’t worr-”
Paige is interrupted as shouting rings through the villa as two new girls make their way into the villa. 
“Bro, can you see her?” Kate says, pulling Paige up immediately as two figures appear in the distance. 
“Not with you jumping on my shoulders.” Paige retorts back, leaning up to get a better look, “They’re tall.”  
“Wait, I think I recognize one of them,” Kate says with her eyes squinted
Kate: You guys are ruthless in bringing my exact type. Fuck, I want to stay loyal to Sarah but I do still want to keep my options open, you know?
Paige has to brace herself for this entrance. She recognized the two bombshells immediately as they got closer. The WNBA world was small and both of these contestants were prominent figures in the league. Azzi Fudd and Nika Muhl, the star guards for the LA Sparks would be joining the girls on the island. 
“No way they brought in more girls from the league!” Kate whispers into Paige’s ear. 
“Did they run out of gays for other sports? Or is the league just super gay?” Paige responds in a nervous whisper. Ellie had literally told Paige on the first day that her type was basketball girls and it was one of the main reasons why Ellie had picked her. It was not to Paige’s advantage to have multiple girls chasing after her girl. 
“Wait, I know both of them. We worked out together at Kelsey Plum’s dawg class for a few days. She’s super hot not gonna lie.” Kate whispered lowly so Sarah wouldn’t hear. 
“Oh yeah, I’ve met them a few times. Did you know that they both were gonna come to UCONN but chose UCLA last minute?” Paige droned on, her eyes oddly trained on Azzi as they finally reached the fire pit. It suddenly dawned on Paige that she had never seen the younger girl in a bikini and it set an uncomfortable fire ablaze in her stomach. 
Azzi: Hi, my name is Azzi Fudd and I’m a 5’ 11” shooting guard for the Sparks. I wanted to come to Love Island to find my future wife and make a strong connection with someone. I have been in a lot of relationships and they don’t seem to go well for me, so I hope I find my match here!
Nika: I’m Nika Muhl and I’m a 6’ foo-
Azzi: 5’ 10” don’t lie Nika
Nika: Don’t cut me off! Anyway, I’m a point guard for the LA Sparks and I wanted to come to Love Island to finally find my love match and establish a strong connection. I’m super excited to meet the Islanders. 
Another text sound rings through the air, coming from Azzi’s hand. 
“Bombshell’s Azzi and Nika, Pick two people to go on dates with tomorrow before bed tonight. Have fun getting to know everyone tonight in the villa! #newcomers #shootyourshot!” Azzi read out, inciting excitement through the villa again. 
“Hey you’re Azzi and Nika, right? Guard’s on the Sparks?” Coco asks, making room for them around the fire pit to welcome them. 
“Yeah, we’re shocked they picked us to go together since we knew each other. You’re Coco Gauff. I’m a big fan.” Azzi gushes, hugging Coco. 
“Hey Kate,” Nika says, acknowledging the blonde in the crowd as she scans around, “How’s the island?” 
“Good. Surprised to see you guys here but I’m hyped. We need more basketball representation in here.” Kate jokes. 
“We get enough ‘basketball is the best sport’ debating from these two. Now we got more.” KK Harvey jokes, motioning to the two basketball blondes in the pit. 
“Basketball is amazing though, you gotta admit.” Azzi plays along, earning a few lighthearted groans from the rest of the villa. 
“Just promise you shut up Paige before she goes on a whole rant. Kate just eggs on that little pest.” Coco groans. 
“I’m never wrong Coco, don’t play with me. Tennis is fun but basketball is art.” Paige says, earning more groans from the group. “Do you guys know who you wanna pull for chats?” Ellie asks the two bombshells, jutting into the conversation. 
“Um, I have my eyes on a few people but I’m gonna see for the next few hours as I get to know more people on the island,” Nika responds. 
“We know you guys are in couples right now, but we just wanted to wait until we got to know more people’s vibes,” Azzi adds, looking around all the girls in the pit. A few couples had already gone off to different parts of the villa, but she was getting a good look at everyone left. There were a few people on her radar and a few people who weren’t. 
Azzi: Kate was making some pretty clear eye contact with me, but she’s on my “pulling for chats” roster.
The group spends the next few minutes getting to know each other and filling in the two on the island news. Paige tried to focus on Ellie squeezing her arm, but she was distracted by things she couldn’t comprehend. 
Things such as Azzi Fudd making flashing bouts of eye contact with her to no end. Paige was not one to falter at strong eye contact, but she couldn’t help but grow slightly nervous under the shooting guard's gaze. It wasn’t rare for Paige to catch the eye of someone. New people entering the villa the past few days had flocked to her, but she rejected them to no avail to remain loyal to Ellie. It was still fun flirting and making stable eye contact was one of her specialties. But Azzi Fudd seemed to be looking at her with a specific glint that Paige couldn’t pinpoint. 
Paige: Did you guys see the way she was looking at me? I can’t tell if she wants me in her bed or wants me dead.  
Annoyance? Lust? Hatred? C’mon Paige tell us what you see!
“So you guys want a little villa tour?” Kate asks suddenly while stepping slightly closer to Azzi, “It’s super nice.” 
The group makes their way around the villa, showing the two new islanders all the spots. Ellie and Paige stayed hand-in-hand as they walked, Ellie refusing to let go. Even when Paige got closer to Azzi coincidentally, the shooting guard would make it a point to take two steps away and it didn’t help that Ellie was pulling her in the other direction. They end up at the rooms as they finish off the night, the girls entering their assigned makeup rooms to get ready for bed. Azzi is put into Paige, Kate, Coco, and KK’s room, getting spilt up from Nika. 
“So Azzi, what do you think of the villa?” Coco asks while wiping her makeup off. 
“It’s nice, bigger than I expected. Soul ties are a lot more secretive than I thought.” Azzi answers, unpacking her bags. 
“Yeah, a lot of shit goes down there. If you go to soul ties at night we know you’re fucking or something.” KK laughs. 
“Do you know who you’re picking for your dates tomorrow? You get two right?” Paige asks, speaking up for the first time. 
“Yeah, two. I’m not sure who I’m picking yet. I think they’re asking me to pick in an hour so I have time to think in the shower.” 
“What’s your type?” Kate asks Azzi boldly, getting an approval look from Paige. 
“Uhh, I tend to focus a lot on personality. Just someone who can match my competitiveness and my energy. But if we’re talking looks, I tend to go for tall blondes.” Azzi says casually, immediately getting Kate to snap her eyes to Paige. 
Paige: Is Azzi flirting with me or Kate? If it’s me, I’m in trouble. Ellie is not going to be happy if I go on a date tomorrow. 
“Is there a separate shower room? I need to unpack my bottles.” Azzi says while standing up.
“Yeah, it’s down the hall to the left. That’s where our group showers.” Coco instructs, getting a nod of thank you before Azzi leaves. 
“Hold up, was she talking about me?” Kate polls the group the second Azzi safely leaves the room, “Or was she walking about the other two blondies?” 
“I think she was just stating her type buddy.” KK Harvey jokes, “Plus, she’s totally talking about me. She’s been giving me the eyes.”  
“Really?” Paige chimes in curiously, “Like slightly angry but confusingly hot?” 
“No, like she wanna look into my soul…What type of looks is she giving you?” KK questions. 
“Nothing… she wasn’t really looking at me, just wondering,” Paige adds quickly. She was probably just overthinking due to the reveal of her type. 
“Back off KK, you’re happy with Kylie. Sarah and I have been distant for days.” Kate playfully challenges. 
“Kylie’s great, but Azzi and Nika are hot, not going to lie. I kinda hope I get to go on the date with them. Don’t tell Kylie though, she might kill me.” 
“As long as you don’t tell Sarah. I wanna test my connection with the bombshells but I don’t want to blindside Sarah.” 
“You guys are acting like Azzi and Nika want you guys. She could be talking about girls in the other room.” Coco jokes, butting into the heated debate.
“Please, Coco. We get it. You and Paige are in happy little couples and don’t need to worry about recoupling. I would say Kylie would leave me the second another hockey girl comes in here.” KK says sarcastically before adding, “I’ve never gone for a basketball girl before.” 
“I have. And I know them better than you loser. Azzi said tall, that means basketball. She was clearly talking about me.” Kate argues back. 
“I’ll be right back,” Paige says suddenly, jumping from her makeup chair. 
“Where are you going?” Kate asks as Paige starts exiting the room. 
“Just going to chat with Azzi for a bit. Nothing serious. I’ll be back in 30 seconds.” Paige says quickly, ignoring any questioning she got from the group. 
Paige makes her way down the hall, knocking twice on the shower room door before it slowly squeaks open.
“It’s unlocked,” Azzi says simply, her composure even. 
“Oh. Some people are uncomfortable with people coming in during showers so I always knock. Wasn’t sure if you were showering.” 
“Nope, just unpacking,” Azzi says shortly, confusing Paige again, “Do you need to shower? I can leave.” 
“Oh, no. I actually wanted to talk to you real quick before you pick your dates for tomorrow.” Paige starts. 
“Sure, what did you want to talk about?” Azzi asks cautiously, continuing to organize her skincare on her shelf. 
“I just wanted to let you know that I’m in a pretty solid connection with Ellie and I don’t want you to waste your date on me because I’m mostly taken. You can still pick me, but I just want to be transparent from the beginning before we get to know each other.” Paige says while sitting up on the sink.
Azzi stood up from her packing, giving Paige a focused look of mild confusion. 
“What makes you think I’m picking you?” Azzi asks with an even tone, eyes unwavering from Paige’s. 
“Well, you said tall blondes are your type and that’s only me and Kate. So I assumed you’d use your two picks on us.” Paige says, slightly less confident.
Azzi steps closer to Paige, closing the gap between them. 
“Is it true that if you take off your top they can’t air it because it’s nudity?” Azzi whispers into Paige’s ear, pulling the blonde in. 
“Uh, yeah? They can’t air it. But they get kinda annoyed when we do it and talk about villa stuff.” Paige whispers shakily into Azzi’s ear. 
“Turn your head,” Azzi says as she takes two steps back, swiftly taking off her bikini top.
Paige had never swiveled so hard, almost falling off the sink counter. Paige turned her head halfway before she realized she could see Azzi in the mirror reflection, leading her to close her eyes as fast as possible.
“I know your reputation in the league, but I’m not trying to air out your business on TV, so I’m going to speak like this,” Azzi yells out before turning around, “You can turn around now, it’s just my back.” 
Paige opens her eyes to see Azzi’s long braids flowing down her bare back, the only article of clothing being her bottom bikini. Azzi turned her head to speak. 
“How are you going to judge me on my so-called reputation?” Paige questioned back, getting offended at the “Player” accusations she hated. 
“You ghosted one of my friends, so don’t act surprised I’m cautious of you. I came to the Villa to find love and take home the win.” 
“So did I. You haven’t seen me with Ellie. I have a lot of layers, you’d be surprised.” Paige says with a smirk, her voice growing bolder. 
“Layers? Yeah, ten layers of player. I know what you did to Alyssa.” 
“Alyssa? Who’s that?” Paige asks, racking her brain for possible Alyssa’s in her past.
“Jesus, you don’t even remember her. That’s crazy.” Azzi scoffs accusatorily, “Anyway, don’t worry. I won’t pick you for the date, I’m not going to intrude on you and Ellie. Seems like you guys are happy.” 
Paige watches as Azzi slips her bikini back on. Watching the muscles on her back contract as she pulls her top over her head. Her bare skin was addicting to look 
So addicting, Paige was caught red-handed admiring her as Azzi turned back around. 
“You sure you're happy with Ellie?” Azzi jokes dryly. 
“Very. She’s a great girl. Exactly my type.” Paige challenges back, leaning her body toward Azzi. 
“What is your type, Paige?” 
“Hot, Brunette, Pretty Eyes,” Paige says a little quieter as Azzi steps a little too close for comfort. 
“I see,” Azzi answers, nodding her head. 
“Don’t think I’m calling you my type. You just happen to fit it.” Paige adds weakly. 
“You saying I got pretty eyes? I know I'm the other two.” Azzi asks playfully, opening the door to the shower room. 
“Maybe. Let me look into them longer and I’ll decide.” Paige chirps back, a surge of confidence coursing through her. 
“In your dreams, Bueckers.” Azzi sings out with a laugh as she takes her exit, leaving a mildly dazed Paige on the sink. 
This was certainly going to be an interesting summer in the Villa for Paige. 
-
A/N: I apologize if this is shit, this is just funny for me.
262 notes · View notes
dilfartist · 1 year
Text
Realization
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Pairing; Yandere Miguel O’hara x reader
Synopsis; the aftermath of your escape attempt.
Word count; 1.1k
Reader description; Female/GN
TW; yandere themes, dark themes, kidnapping, minor talk of wounds.
Notes; {first part.}
"Are you comfortable?" 
His query provokes annoyance. While, yes, the fluff provided by both the couch and large puffy blankets did satisfy you, you'd never express this to Miguel. Miguel is at your side, clad in a tight white shirt and Grey sweatpants. In his hands are a platter holding a drunk and a plate of breakfast. 
"No." You retort; the way it's spoken is colder than you intended. But why would you care? He deserves every bit of hatred spewed from your lips. 
The current time is eight in the morning, and the last thing on Miguel's today's list is fighting. Especially in your condition. Miguel releases an obstinate short-lived sigh, clearly not giving in to your stubbornness. He moves from your side to your front. Irratedly, you bark his name in an empty threat. "Eat." He persist, his voice losing a bit of the softness he talked with before. 
"I promise I didn't drug it. If that's why you're not eating." 
Ah, yes, you forgot being drugged was a possibility when he handles your food. 
Back when you first got abducted, you understandably were resistant to any form of tenderness. You acted callous. Ignoring Miguel when you didn't require to communicate your needs. Miguel wasn't too appreciative. Nevertheless, he was understanding due to your circumstances, and for a while, he begrudgingly left you alone. One day, Miguel wasn't having the best day; to say the least, his day had been extremely stressful. All he wanted was to be comforted by your touch, and of course, you aren't giving him any, so he sought it. 
You sat at the dining table, eating leftovers from the night before. Miguel entered the shared home, going into the kitchen. Wanting your affection, he forgets about your refutation and awkwardly leans down, puckering his lips to signal a kiss. You simply turn away. Pride wounded, Miguel retreats, angrily storming out of the room, and plops down on the couch. A couple of minutes pass, and you walk out of the kitchen, a glass of soda in hand, and sit across from him. Miguel eyes your beverage with a malevolent idea forming. 
Fortunately, on Miguel's part, you leave for the restroom. In his impulsive state, Miguel quickly departs from the living room to the kitchen. This wasn't the first occasion Miguel thought of paralyzing you with a sedative. On top of the fridge were the pills. He flicks the bottle open, popping two tablets in his calloused palm. He returns to the living room, dropping them into the liquid, and using your straw, he mixes the drink until there's only a slight visible powder at the bottom. 
Miguel rues his decision. Instead of earning your trust, he loses the faith that you had in him. The exact opposite of what he strived to attain. 
Famished and tired of Miguel's whining, you begrudgingly accept the platter. You settle the platter onto your lap. On the plate is French toast, the mixture of butter and syrup creates a brownish-orange color. On the side is cold tea with a handful of ice cubes floating at the top. 
Grabbing the butter knife, you slice the toast creating a rift and allowing the syrup to spill onto the glass plate. Bringing the fork to your mouth, you take a small bite. It tasted...fine. No bitter aftertaste of pills, just regular French toast.  
Miguel intensely observed you, even taking a seat beside you. For someone who truthfully claimed to not have laced your meal, he certainly doesn't make it appear that way. "Do you like it?" He asks nonchalantly. Not wanting to give him credit, you merely respond with an "it's alright," 
Finishing up your meal, you return to watching your show. Miguel gets up, sauntering out of the room. You assume he was returning work calls since he was taking off the week to nurse you back to health. You dismiss it, giving all your engagement to the television. 
Sometime later, you hear heavy footfalls from the hallway. You don't turn to see who it is because it's obviously Miguel. Miguel once again enters the living room, your name falling from his lips immediately. You continue to pay him no mind at all. 
Miguel is quickly agitated, "Look at me, (Name)." You whirl around, giving in. In Miguel's hands again is a tray. this time it holds neither drink nor food, instead medical supplies. 
"No." You absentmindedly mutter, sinking farther into the couch cushion. Miguel approaches you, places the tray aside on the table, snatches the remote out of your hand, and powers off the television. "Come on, lie on your stomach." He commands softly, throwing blankets on the other couch to have the couch bare. 
"No," you repeat like a petulant child whose mother asked them to do something they didn't want to do. 
"Now, (Name). The faster we get this over, the faster you won't have to deal with it the remainder of the day." 
He was right. For once. You shakily sigh, doing as he advised. Miguel takes your place on the couch, peeling your shirt upwards. The contact of cold crisp air against your warm skin makes you shiver. Never have been so interested in the armrest's design. Every stitch, color, and material now is intriguing. 
Miguel prepares the ointments and bandages. Then he unwraps the aged bandages in slow motion, hoping not to foist pain on you. Over a couple of days, Miguel has attended to your wounds on your back, and each time the sight never fails to have his heart sink into his stomach. 
Trailing from your upper back to your lower is three gashes on both sides of your back, parallel to claw marks. The gashes are deep and bloody despite the amount of medication he's applied days prior. Miguel figures they must have been caused by him clutching you when you went tumbling on the concrete. 
Now it's Miguel's turn to take in a quivering breath. 
Miguel brings over a small container holding a clear ointment inside. He dips his finger in, scooping out a good amount. Miguel's thick fingers gently glaze your marks, earning him a whine. As he continues, all that escapes his lips are gently spoken "m'sorry"s or "forgive me, bebé."s 
You want to hate him. Never think of the word forgive in a sentence when it involves him. But you can't; all you can do is forgive him because it's the only thing you can do to improve your situation. A situation you'll never escape. 
You have to forgive him, but never will you forget. Even if you wanted to, the marks on your back will always be a reminder. 
2K notes · View notes
surielstea · 7 months
Text
Midnight Meetings
Based on this request.
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Pairing: Eris x Fem!Reader
Summary: Reader and Eris are secretly mates and refuse to get caught, despite being deep in love.
Warnings: MINORS DNI | 18+ | smut | P in V | Fingering | praise | rough sex | pet names | overstimulation ||| lots of fluff :)
6.8k words
A/N: not proofread!
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I knocked on the dark green door in front of me before backing away and hugging my navy blue cloak tighter to my body, my hood covering my face entirely as I stared down at my feet.
The door quickly swings open, revealing a curious red-headed male. I smile and even if he could only see the bottom half of my face, he'd recognize my grin anywhere.
"You don't look suspicious at all," Eris drawls as I welcome myself into his apartment. "Well, it's not like you can come visit me." I shrug off my cloak and hang it on the coat rack. "I would winnow right into your bedroom if you allowed me to." He states and I shake my head incredulously. "I have no doubt you would."
I whirl around, looking up at my mate with yearning eyes. "I missed you." He sighed, his large hands coming up to cup my jaw. "It's only been a few days." I excuse and he presses a kiss on my forehead. "A few days too long." He corrects, moving down and kissing the tip of my nose. "I'm here now." I remind and a smile curves his lips before I rise onto my toes and connect our lips, my chest pressing against his as I wrap my arms tighter around the back of his neck.
When I back away he looks at the clock on the wall, nearly a quarter past midnight. He knows I have to leave at dawn, less than six hours from now I'll be out of his grasp and back in my Court. "I'm so sick of these secret meetings." He grumbles, hands traveling from my jaw, past my shoulders, to my hands where he intertwined our fingers. I nod in agreement, tired from the amount of winnowing it took to get here.
"We should just tell your little group." He suggests as he pulls me over to his couch. "Are you kidding? They'll burn me at the stake." I snort and he plops down onto his sofa, I waste no time straddling his hips as he leans his back against the armrest, staring up at me lovingly. "Fire's such a horrible way to go out." He states, holding up his hand and I marvel as a small flame emits from the center of his palm. I grin wildly, the small fire flickering as I cup my hand over it, but it doesn't burn, it almost tickles with the way it dances along my skin.
"I love it when you do that," I murmur and he makes the flame slightly larger, illuminating my face and I can't help but unabashedly stare. "I could set entire forests to flame but you like this, a fire no larger than a candle." He observes and my eyes flick up to his, the fire reflecting in them. "Well anyone can have power, it takes control to do this." I cup my hand over the flame entirely and it goes out, his fingers curling around mine.
"You can thank my father for that." He grumbles and I shake my head. "It's different, more gentle." I smile. "Setting worlds to burn is all your father's doing, but this, you get this from your mother," I explain and he blinks, his cheeks staining with color. He swallows thickly before replying, "I love you." Is all he can get out and I giggle at the idea of making Eris Vanserra's mind go blank. "Love you too." I cup his cheek with my other hand before leaning in and slotting our mouths against each other.
The kiss alights like an ember, sparking flames to run down the line of my spine, his hands coming to my waist to keep me still, hugging me to him as if he needed me so much closer. "I missed you too," I whisper onto his lips. "Missed you so much." I wrap my arms tighter around his neck, burrowing into his warmth— afraid it would disappear and I'd be left in the cold, as well as the dark without his fire.
His hand comes to my cheek and he pulls away, thumb running over my bottom lip as he does so. "I don't want to waste our whole time having sex." He muttered and I smiled cheekily. "You think it's a waste?" I tease, hands coming to his shoulders.
"No. I just, I like talking too." He explained and I smiled before leaning in and pecking his lips. "Only teasing Eris." I hum in between kisses. "We can talk as long as you want," I flip off of his lap and cuddle into his side, head coming to rest on his shoulder while my leg hooks around his torso. "Well, you can talk to me until dawn." I correct and he releases a long sigh at the limitation, his hand tracing up and down my arm, absentmindedly drawing hearts and spelling out his name.
"What do you have going on tomorrow?" I ask, my hand slipping under his shirt in craving for his warmth. "Lashing from my father, brothers trying to kill me, the usual." He lowly whistles and I frown, propping my chin up on his collarbone, staring up at him. "You don't even have any... General stuff going on?" I ask and a small smirk pulls at his lips.
"General stuff?" He mocks and I bury my face back into his chest. "Shut up, I don't know the terms," I murmur with embarrassment as he chuckles. "I'm the General of armies, there's no war ongoing at the moment." He informs and I roll my eyes. "Isn't there some preparation you need to do?" I flip back into his lap. "Are you calling war on me?" He arches a perfect brow and my other hand slips under his shirt.
"No Sir." I shake my head, pressing a kiss to his jaw. He lets a low grunt slip from his lips at the nickname and I giggle, wrapping my arms around his middle and propping my head up on his sternum, staring into his amber eyes as he watched me through his lashes.
"You just love to tease me don't you?" He hums, his hands coming to my waist and I nod brightly. "Because I'm the only one who can get away with it." I croon and he fights back a smile because he knows I'm right. "How so?" He tilts his head as if he doesn't already know he's head over heels. "Making you stumble over your words is so cute." I hum, nails lightly dragging along his toned abdomen. "I do not stumble over my words." He states it as if it's a fact. "Sure you don't my lord." I jeer, the nickname has his ears perking up, the casual intimacy making his body unsure how to act.
Eris had never gotten the love he deserved as a child, his mother gave him a peck on the cheek every now and then when he got to see her, but after his brother was born all of her attention quickly went to him. Eris understood, he was in his twenties by then, helped raise each of his brothers, and made sure they got the necessary love he didn't receive. Some of them were poisoned by their fathers' words and manipulations, the horrid male pitting his brothers against him, the boys he raised only for them to try and stab him in the back in foolish desire to become the sole Heir.
That's why when I met him, actually met him, I gave him every bare inch of my love, force-feeding it down his throat if I had to, in need to make him feel as cherished as he should've as a child. It pains me to know his father still has control at times, to think about the main reason I wasn't allowed to publicly love him.
My family was one thing, they truly loved me and would eventually understand why I was with Eris, but Beron, he'd use it against him, threaten me at every chance he got and it'd work on Eris. No matter how safe I was, if Beron somehow got his hands on me Eris didn't know how he'd act, doubted he'd even think beforehand, which scared the ever-living hel out of the prince.
"Have you gone quiet because you're afraid of being too tongue-tied?" I smile at him, my hand now running through his auburn hair. He nods silently and I giggle, pressing a kiss to his lips. "I love you." I hum and he pales, the light dust of freckles along his cheeks coming to show. "My gods—you can't— it's mean of you to just say that." He stutters out and I snicker. "So flustered over a few words." I taunt and he releases a huff of defeat.
"How is it mean?" I ask, pushing the hair away from his eyes, and combing my fingers through the soft locks. "You say it so casually," His large hands drag up and down my waist. "It's odd how easily you say it." He explains and I smile softly at him, lifting from his chest so my face is hovering above his. "But it's how I feel." I reason with him and he looks up at me, his dark lashes fanning over his eyelids. "I mean it, I do love you." I reassured, remembering the first time I said it to him, how he carried me straight to the closest bedroom and didn't let me leave in the morning, said I had to stay another day as he held me to his chest and forbade me from leaving until later that night.
"I love you too." A genuine smile coming to his features, one of his hands reaching up to cup around the back of my neck, his thumb stroking over the line of my jaw. He pulls me down and I allow it, slotting my lips onto his. Warmth blossomed in my chest as his silken lips met with mine yet again, my mouth molding to his like he was made for me, made for kissing me only.
It doesn't take long until we're out of breath, his tongue in my mouth as I part my lips for him willingly, his hands running over any point of my body he could reach, hand on my thigh, pulling me higher up onto him. Sighs of devotion filled the silence of the room, his scent enveloping me, warm cinnamon and campfire embers surrounding me as I pressed my chest to his by arching my back.
He smiled into the kiss, using his hand on my cheek to guide me away from his lips, which I reluctantly pulled away from.
"What happened to talking?" He says and I frown. "I figured we had a better use of our mouths." I shrug and he sighs contentedly, wrapping both his arms around my middle and pulling me down onto him, flipping onto his side so we could lie facing each other, heads resting on the same pillow. "I don't want you to leave." I frown and I mirror it. "I don't want to either," I mutter. "And I'll have to leave a little earlier so I can shower the 'you' off of me," I add and he rolls his eyes, leaning down and stuffing his nose into the crook of my shoulder. "I like when you smell like me," He mumbles into my skin. "Tell those bastards who you belong to," He hummed, his tone determined and I let out a quiet laugh. "Mine." He mumbles into my neck, pressing soft kisses to my neck, up the column of my throat then back down to my shoulder. "All mine." He whispers, hugging me impossibly closer. "All yours." I soothe, scratching his scalp and he groans at the feeling, burrowing deeper into my shoulder. I smile and press a kiss to the top of his head.
I allow silence to settle over us. I knew he was tired, he had a meeting with his father and all his advisers today, which would drain anyone. He wrote me a note saying he needed to see me, that he didn't want to talk about what happened, just that he wanted me in his arms. I showed up as early as I could, which was midnight. The Night Court stays up late, making it far too difficult to sneak out.
His fingertips traced random shapes along my waist, then his name over and over again.
"Hey, Eris," I call. "Hm?" He mumbles back tiredly, fighting off the sleep in hopes of spending more time with me before I disappear in the mornings. "Do you want to get married?" I prompt and his ears perk up, eyes peeling open as he backs away from my neck so that his attention is entirely on me. "If that's what you want," He murmurs, eyes watching mine as if trying to get a read on my emotions. "It's just that, Rhys said the other day that you need to prove your loyalty to the Night Court since that whole Nesta thing didn't work," I explain and he's now fully awake. "What are you asking?" He runs a hand down my spine and I swallow. "Why haven't you proposed to me?" I frown and a small smile spreads across his face. "Because you're not a battle strategy my fawn." He leans in and presses a soft kiss to my lips. "I don't want to marry you just because Rhys said so, I want it to be authentic." He hums, hand intertwining with my smaller one. "But I do, want to marry you." I reason with him and he grins childishly, kissing me again. "Then we'll get married." He whispers. "During the meeting next week Rhys is going to ask you what you want," I mutter and his head comes up to my face, rubbing over my cheekbone. "And I'll ask for your hand," He nods, understanding. "Exactly." I smile excitedly, hopeful that others will assume we fell in love after marriage.
He stuffs his face back into my shoulder, his embrace around me like a fireplace, reminding me of cuddling beside the hearth with a cup of tea just as hot.
My hands return to his hair, nails scratching his head lightly, sending him into a comfortable slumber, sleep finding him in the best of places with me in his arms as if he's never felt more secure than he did now.
︵‿︵‿︵‿︵
The hewn city always gave me the shivers, I hated being in this place, hated every inch of the Court of Nightmares, my birthplace, my childhood home. It was cold here, the feel of a cold spider crawling down my spine was at a constant.
Eris stood in front of the entire inner circle like an interrogation. We were discussing the peace treaty Rhys has been working on for quite some time now. Seated at a meeting table made of solid black marble, the chair I sat in was a matching color that ate up any light around it. Azriel stood behind me, his hands resting on the headrest of my seat, refraining from pouncing on the Heir at any given moment.
"If you think for even a moment that my father will sign your little settlement you've either been brainwashed or you truly are the brute I thought you to be." My mate hums towards the high lord and I mentally curse him. Can't you just act civil towards them for a moment? I ask and a smile curves his lips, which is all the response I need. The spymaster lets out a low growl behind me, his hands digging into the material at the back of my chair. I reach behind my head and set my hand atop his scarred one, calming him down. Eris noticed the couch and watched as the spy master's fingers intertwined with mine, the future high lord noticeably grinding his teeth. I flashed him a pretty smile that mirrored his previous one.
"We don't need your father, we need the High Lord of the Autumn Court." Feyre stared and everyone's head whipped to her. "Would you sign it? If given the title?" Feyre asks and Eris tilts his head with a sloppy smile. "Perhaps," He shrugs, I have to physically hold back from rolling my eyes. Always one for the dramatics.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Cassian bristles. "Well once I'm in power you can't be sure of where my loyalties lie, and after you rejected my proposal—" He says pointedly at Nesta. "There's no knowing who I might turn to after becoming High Lord." He lets on and my stomach twists anxiously, despite knowing where this was going Eris had such a way with his words that had even me believing he'd betray us if given a better offer.
I'm starting to second-guess this plan. I confess to him, something warm breezes over me, flames spreading across my mind to calm me. There's nothing to worry about my fawn, it'll go as intended. He reassured but the fear on the edge of my mind remained.
"You can't have her." Cassian grits out, crossing his arms over his chest and I'd never seen him look more intimidating, even on a battlefield that fierceness was nothing compared to the pure loathing in his eyes. "I don't want Nesta," Eris scoffs at the Illyrian, lazily looking at him. "Then what do you want?" Nesta leaned onto the table, narrowing her gaze on him.
Eris looked at every set of eyes at the table before lastly meeting mine. His stare doesn't falter for even a moment, so confident when he looks at me like he's got no fear in the world. "Her." He states, voices steady and certain.
"Absolutely not." Azriel rules from behind me, I look to Rhys who seems to have the same opinion as the shadow singer. "Find something else, you can't have her." Rhys orders in a voice that reminds me solely of the most powerful High Lord. "You were so eager to sell Nesta off, when I asked for her hand you gave her the decision." Eris reminds and Rhysand's jaw clamps shut, muscles feathering along it. He releases a breath of annoyance, looking at me. It's up to you. He says into the chambers of my mind I have sectioned for him and him only, not allowing him to see my thoughts of Eris, I won't let him find the mating bond, gods forbid the memories.
I remove my hand from Azriel's and fold my hands in my lap anxiously, Rhys has just put the fate of this court in my hands, but more selfishly, the outcome of my relationship with Eris. I swallow thickly, my eyes flicking up to the Heir to Autumn. I can feel everyone watching me, intently staring as if trying to read my answer before I even reply.
"If Beron dies and you come to power, if you promise to sign the treaty I will marry you," I say meekly as if this wasn't my idea. I can practically feel Azriel seething behind me. He's always had issues with his temper and I wonder if he'll pounce on Eris yet again depending on what the Prince says next. "A bargain then." He smirks and I nod. My eyes flick to Rhys as I stand, Eris does the same. We meet in the middle, his left hand reaching out. The hands that have felt every inch of me, the hands that have cradled me as well as fucked me.
I set my palm into his, the familiar feeling has them slotting together perfectly. I look into his eyes and a searing pain etched itself onto my left hand. I don't look away from his eyes. I wanted to feel the burn, relishing in the feeling of the bargain marking me, making it clear to my family that I am his and he in mine, in one way or another.
The pain ceases and I'm hesitant to pull my hand away, I haven't felt his warmth in a week. He takes his hand away first and I follow the action, looking down at the tattoo that tainted my hand, intricately designed lines and patterns running along the back of my palm, coming up and looping around my ring finger like a wedding band, his to match exactly. I look to my family across the table, all the way on the other side now that I stood by Eris, it felt like some kind of metaphor that I couldn't shake.
"Settled then?"
︵‿︵‿︵‿︵
"What an absolute bastard." Rhys groans, flopping down onto the couch. I anxiously watch the Inner Circle as they all settle into the sitting room. "I wouldn't have accepted the proposal if he had ill intent," I mumble, coming to his defense as much as I could without raising suspicion. "You shouldn't have," Cassian says, taking a seat in his designated chair. Nesta went back to the House of Wind, Amren and Mor went back to their respective apartments, and Feyre had gone to bed early, leaving me with the three winged males.
"This Court was at stake," I argue. "This Court would've been fine," Rhys states. "We could've found something else, anything else." The high lord sighs. Azriel was utterly silent, which frightened me. "Eris always has an ulterior motive, whatever he wants with you scares the shit out of me," Cassian explains with a soft expression and a frown rugs at my lips. "I understand your point, but you let me have a choice and I made it," I say, still standing, facing all three of them staring at me like overprotective brothers.
"What does he want with you?" Azriel narrowed his eyes on me. I pale, unsure what he meant. "You know something we don't." He stated, his voice certain. "I— I'm not sure what you mean." I crease my brows, the other two Illyrians look at the spymaster confused. He stood, leveling his gaze with mine as he towered over me. "What are you hiding?" His eyes analyze every movement of my body, taking a step back as he steps forward. His eyes were dark as he walked towards me.
"Az," I mumble, utterly passive under the shadow singer's gaze. "Nothing, you would know if I had secrets." I try to play it off with a soft laugh but it's futile. "Would I?" He grits out and I blink rapidly due to what felt like fear, not towards Azriel, never towards him. But what would he do if he found out? "Az, you're scaring me," I mutter, purposefully making my voice shake. It was a low move, but I knew it'd make him stop.
His eyes run along my features then back to my eyes. "I'm sorry," He places his hands on my shoulders. "I just, you're sure there isn't anything I should know?" He creases his dark brows and I swallow down my word vomit. The tenderness in his voice has me wanting to tell him everything. I take a deep breath, looking into his hazel eyes, and realizing the silence has stretched on for far too long I speak. "Nothing." I square my features and his hands slip from my shoulders. "I understand." He hums, backing away and brushing past me towards his bedroom.
I look at the two males still in their seats staring at me with raised brows. "I think I'm going to go to bed as well, it's been a long day," I mumble, eager to get out of there, and get to my apartment. "Of course, get good sleep," Rhys says, I look to Cassian and he gives me a nod. I return it before winnowing back to my apartment.
I release a long sigh, walk into my office, and shuffle through my drawers until I find a piece of note paper and a pen, I quickly scribble onto it.
Are you still here? I write, watching as the paper disappears from thin air, impatiently I wait for a reply, rocking on my heels until the paper appears again, fluttering down onto my desk with familiar handwriting on it.
Miss me already?
I roll my eyes at the words and quickly jot down my reply with the neatest brand I can muster.
Maybe just a little, will you answer my question now? He's quick to reply this time.
I am. Want to come back?
Why don't you come to my apartment?
I watch the note disappear and I anxiously click my pen repeatedly as I wait for him to reply, taking longer than it should've.
Oh? Now look who's trying to get caught?
Eris, will you come or not?
Give me a moment Love, I'll be there.
I smile at the note, allowing it to rest on my desk as I walk into my bedroom, shuffling through my nightgowns. I find my softest one, a pale yellow chiffon that ends at my thighs. I strip from my heavy dress, pushing it down my hips before hopping out of it. I had the gown back up into my large closet, placing it on the rack for later wearing, then moving back to my bedroom where I left the nightgown on my bed.
My brows crease when the yellow fabric is no longer fanned out on the bed. "This is awfully short," A voice hums in the dark room and I jump, my head whipping to a familiar silhouette holding up the pastel dress. "Don't you think?" He flicks his eyes up to me and my ears perk up as a cheeky grin spreads across my face. "Want to put it on me?" I suggest, taking a step towards my mate. "I'd rather be the one taking it off." He intones and I roll my eyes, sauntering over to him until we're nearly chest to chest. "I'll let you do that too." I raise my arms up and he smiles, slipping the dress over my arms, passing my shoulders, bending down, and pulling the pretty dress past my hips. He looks up at me from his knees and I smile down at him, my hand going into his hair.
"My pretty fiancé." I tease and he presses a kiss to my thigh, his bright eyes never leaving mine. "I love this," I say, hand coming down to caress the side of his face. "Love what?" He arches a brow curiously, my fingers coming under his chin and tilting his head higher up. "Love that I have Eris Vanserra down on his knees for me," I mutter, bending at the hips and pressing a soft kiss to his lips. "I think I love it too." He confesses as my hand leaves his chin and cups around the back of his neck.
He stands up, my head tilting with him, lips never leaning as he places his hand on my waist and walks towards me, guiding me with him until the backs of my thighs hit the plushness of my bed. I smile, detaching our lips before hoisting myself onto the bed, crawling further up until my back is resting on the headboard.
He wastes no time in mounting over me, arms coming to either side of me as his lips slot against mine yet again.
I arch my back as his hands press against my waist, my chest pushing up against his. "It was a mistake to put this dress on," He murmurs into my mouth and I sigh breathlessly. "Whys that?" I mutter. "Because now all I want to do is see it on the floor." He purrs and a smirk curved my lips. "Then what are you waiting for?" I taunt. His fingers make quick work of slipping the thin straps from my shoulders.
He tugs it down my thighs, forcing it past my hips and throwing it off onto my floor, exactly as he promised. I was left in nothing but my undergarments, feeling particularly bare I began to work on the buttons of his shirt, pulling them undone as I worked lower and lower, as soon as I reached his waist where his shirt ends, I began unbuckling his belt.
He does the rest of the shirt for me, not daring to break our kiss, his mouth staking claim on me like a ravaging beast needing to feed, and I was the only sustenance around. I get his belt off, the rattling of it familiar as it clatters to the floor.
My arms trail up his arms that framed either side of my head, feeling up the Heirs biceps, nails clawing down his back as his hips drag along mine.
"Eris," I pant out. "I know." He nods, understanding exactly what I was feeling in my chest, the bond between us growing every time he touches me, that tether, impossible to ignore, glimmering between us as his left hand roams every inch of my bare skin.
I breathe a sigh of satisfaction once his palm finds purchase at my breast, groping the sensitive flesh.
I moan into our kiss at the feeling, our kiss that was all tongue and teeth, hurried passion with a hunger I knew well. His hand leaves my breast much to my dismay, instead, he shucks off his pants. I smile excitedly as two of his fingers dip down past my pantie line, pinching the lacy undergarment between his fingers. "This is okay?" He whispers breathlessly against my lips and I nod with a needy fervor. "More than okay," I murmur and he wastes no time, lips crashing back down onto mine and he's pulling off my panties, discarding them along with the rest of my clothes on the floor.
"Touch me," I beg as soon as the cold air hits my wet core, clenching around nothing at the sensation. "Eris, please," I whine and he presses a kiss to my forehead, hand raking down my body. "Tell me how." He hummed and my brows creased in perpetual need. "Your fingers, inside," I murmur out with creased brows and a corrupting smile curves the Heirs lips, his thumb finding my clit.
A gasp racks through me at the intense feeling, two of his long fingers dragging through my soaked folds. "You're soaked." He observed and I nodded, showing him just how much I'd needed him all day today, knowing he was in my court, in my grasp, but I couldn't have him, not until now.
"Fuck, feels good." I sigh contentedly as his thumb begins circling tightly around my puffy clit, sensitive to his stimulation. "Yeah?" He hovers over me and I nod with my eyes clenched shut, reveling in the way he lathered his fingers in my slick.
His fingers enter me, two at once. My breath hitched and my heart rate doubled at the intense heat that overwhelms my body. He doesn't wait for me to adjust, and begins pumping his fingers in and out of me at a rapid pace, hitting deeper every time— he finds that spongy bundle of nerves deep inside of me and I scream his name, hands feeding into his hair as I grip his hair between my fingers, whining as I beg for him to abuse that spot.
He does as told, palm resting against my clit and pushing down onto it, allowing me further friction as I begin grinding down onto his hand, fingers scissoring inside of me, doing wicked things that have me pulling his hair and moaning ridiculously loud.
"I'm close," I mumble out, tears welling in my eyes at the immense pleasure. "Yeah? Gonna cum on my fingers pretty girl?" He asks and I nod, opening my eyes to look up at him. He looked like an angel from this perspective, his hair hanging over his eyes as I ran my hands through it, pushing it back so I could see his lust-blown eyes.
"Eris— I'm cumming!" I confess and he smirks above me, thumb flicking over my clit, causing my legs to jolt as I reach ecstasy, finding that high and grasping onto it for dear life, riding it out as my grinds come to a stop and his fingers, slowly, slip from my entrance. I looked at him with a fucked-out expression, watching as he took his fingers into his mouth, licking every drop of my release off of his own hand.
I clench my legs shut, whimpering as my orgasm lingers on the edge of my mind, another one would quickly be approaching if I got any form of fraction between my thighs.
"Wanna, make you feel good too." I blink up at him helplessly and he sloppily grins down at me. "Want your cock." I mumble, already knowing what he wants of me. His eyes practically glow golden at my behavior, his member straining against the last remaining fabric between us and he removes it, his sex springing up against his abdomen, precum seeping from his tip. My mouth waters at the sight of it, hand coming to it and swiping the pearl of white away, bringing it up to my lips and licking it away.
He presses his core into mine, his heavy cock dragging through my folds, lubing himself for my pleasure. I hum in want, in pure need, for more. He strokes himself once, then twice. His tip red and angry as he aligns it with my slit and I bite my bottom lip, forcing myself to stare as he pushes in, inching himself deeper and deeper.
"So, big," I mutter incoherently, too cock-drunk to recognize anything else. The stretch was far from foreign but gods did it feel good, my walls hugging his thick shaft, pushing inside of me further and further. My breath quickens as he presses against that bundle of nerves— then goes further.
Tears spring to my eyes at the pleasurable pain, nails digging into his shoulder as his hips finally hit mine and I release a gasp of relief.
He looks at me reassuringly, my eyes catching contact with his. "Hard, go hard," I beg. "Want you feral," I mumble. "You're so good for me." He mutters, pressing a gentle kiss to my forehead as he pulls all the way out to his tip, and without warning— slams back in, moans ripping from my throat at the sudden change of pace, his thrusts becoming animalistic as he hits home, every single time.
"Fuck," any brows crease together, nails now making red marks down his back that rippled with muscle. He drives into me with sheer fervor, not letting up for even a moment as I contract around him with a sharp breath, feeling every ridge and dip of his member as he uses me like a sleeve, molding to him and him only.
"You're so fucking tight," He grunts out, hips rolling over mine. Tears roll down my face but he doesn't care, he continues fucking me with an unmatched speed. "Eris, too much," I whine out, gripping his back, attempting to find purchase anywhere I can manage. "Be a good girl and take it, yeah?" He hums, lips finding mine again, shutting my complaints up and hammering into me.
"I'm gonna— I'm so close," I mumble into his mouth and he nods. "Me too baby," He reassures over the sounds of his tight balls slapping against my ass, hips clapping against mine. His tongue slips into my mouth, finding every crevice it can manage and I just allow it. Let him take over my entire body, reaching a headspace that made me entirely passive, just wanting his hands on me, anywhere, everywhere.
"You going to cum on my cock my girl?" He asks and I nod earnestly, tear-stained cheeks flushed pink from the exertion. "Please, can I?" I wasn't above begging, I was ready to get down onto my knees if it meant I could have that sweet release, so close I could almost taste it— feeling that knot tighten in my core. "You can," He allows, and with another thrust of his hips, grinding them down onto mine and rolling over that perfect spot inside of me I'm reaching that
Warmth blossoms in my abdomen as I feel my orgasm crash over me like a wave of pure pleasure. I clench tightly around him, walls fluttering around his cock and then his warm seed fills me, letting out a groan of my name as his release pumps into me. He lets out a shaky sigh as he works himself down from the intense high, slowly removing his heavy shaft from my entrance and flipping down beside me.
Pants for air fill the room, the cold bedsheets feeling like heaven on my hot skin, still, I burrow into Eris. Flipping onto my side and resting my head against his chest. His hand comes into my hair, dragging his fingers through it as we regain our breath, my hand on his abdomen, tracing random shapes on the muscle.
"Do you want to stay the night?" I ask after a stretch of comfortable silence. "You have to be gone by dawn but, a few hours of sleep couldn't hurt." I excuse and his hand in my hair halts. "You have no idea how enticing that sounds." He sighs. "Then stay." I look up at him, blinking slowly as exhaustion took me full throttle. "Okay." He nods. "Okay." I smile, leaning down and pressing a kiss to his lips, soft and sweet— contradicting the events that just took place. "Let's get you cleaned up first."
︵‿︵‿︵‿︵
I woke up to the birds outside my window cooing their morning song, I released a soft sigh and noticed a heavy weight around my middle. I peek my eyes open, looking down at the familiar arm that belonged to my mate. I mumble a chain of incoherent sounds, my hand sliding from my forearm up to his large bicep, the feel of his muscles having my body set to flame. I flip around and look up at the pretty male, his red hair cascading over his eyes messily. I drag my fingers through it, pushing the strands away so I can look at his features.
The sunlight seeped past my sheer curtains, shining softly down into his sharp features. He seemed so at peace with his head on my pillows, his arm around me. I move my hand from his hair down to cup his cheek. In the sunlight, I can see each one of his freckles so clearly I swore I could lie here and count them all day.
I wonder why I don't admire him more in the mornings, he truly was meant to be admired during sunrise.
I quickly realized I never saw him during the mornings because I was too busy collecting my things and rushing out of his apartment to get back to my house before anyone noticed.
"Eris." I spring up, shaking his shoulders. "Eris, wake up." I urge. He peeks one eye open with a grimace. "Everything's okay," His hands come up to the sides of my face, his immediate response to comfort me even half-asleep. "No, Eris you have to go," I say clearly and he mumbles something I don't understand. "What's wrong?" He asks, rubbing his eyes, clearly confused. "You fell asleep, you need to go back to Autumn." I reason with him and he groans, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me back down onto the bed. "Does anybody come to your apartment in the mornings?" He asks. "No," I say muffled with my cheek smushed into his chest. "And do you need to leave anytime soon?" He adds and I shake my head. "Not until late afternoon," I explain and he pulls me so much closer. "So what's the rush, Fawn?" He prompts and my ears perk up, realizing there was no real reason for him to leave so early. "I suppose there isn't one," I mumble, allowing myself to return to admiring his features, his auburn eyes not halfway open to stare at me back.
"Good morning." He says and I smile wildly, not realizing how badly I wished for him to still be around the morning after. "Morning my love." I press a kiss to the corner of his lips, he smiles at the feeling. "My betrothed is so pretty in the mornings." He hums his morning voice something I've rarely heard, the deep sound of it having my ears perk up. "Your betrothed?" I arch my brow and he nods tiredly, intertwining our left hands that were designed in tattoos.
"Mhm, now go back to sleep beloved." He pulls the blanket over our heads and I giggle, now enveloped in the dark with him. "I love you," I whisper like we're about to tell scary stories. "Love you too." He leans in blindly and somehow finds my lips, as if he knew where they were, and presses a gentle kiss to my lips, letting the blanket go in order to bring his hand into my hair.
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everythingne · 10 months
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christmas in monaco - cl16 [2]
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Trying to even bring up boys with Max ends up in a fight. You and Charles have a heart-to-heart. Daniel and Carlos help you devise a plan.
warnings/notes: comparing Max to Jos during the fight, mentions of shit parents, one (1) jab at Kelly, the chapter is serious and then Daniel shows up and that goes to shit, the last bit of set up before i go full scooby-do search party through the doors on you guys
verstappen!reader x charles leclerc, secret dating/brothers best friend
prev | next
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You know you're in for it when you open the door to Max's apartment, groceries tucked lazily in one arm and coffees in the other and he's staring at you.
"What?" You ask as if you have no idea what he wants. You can see Penelope laying on the floor, coloring while some cartoon you've never heard of plays, and thus immediately switch to Dutch.
"[Why do you look like you're mad at me?]" You say, walking over to where he sits on the kitchen island, plopping down the groceries, and handing him the coffee you'd bought. Kelly's off doing god knows what today, leaving the two of you to watch Penelope before you return to your apartment next door.
"[Who is he?]" Max asks, taking the coffee with a nod of a thank you as he helps you organize the groceries. You knew posting that picture would cause this conversation, you and Charles had spoken about easing Max into the fact you were dating at all, and maybe it wasn't the best idea. Max had been fiercely protective over you since you were kids, you don't know why you assumed he'd stop now that you were adults.
"[I haven't told anyone yet. We're keeping it hush.] Okay?" You speak softly, setting down some things for dinner. Simple pasta, since Penelope had picked that over pizza--as long as you made her meatballs as well. You pluck the ingredients from the mess of other groceries, making sure you have everything as Max leans back in his seat.
"[Oh, so I'm just anyone now?]" Max lifts his hands in agitation, the same accusatory tone of your father's ringing in Max's voice. You swallow your vitriol, crossing your arms taught over Charles' hoodie you wear as you cross the room, then you tug up the red sleeves of the hoodie as you set down the ingredients for dinner by the stove.
"[Max, come on.]" You urge, hoping he'll drop it. But he's as stubborn as your father and as impatient as him too.
"[No, I feel like I have a right to be upset over this, how long have you two been seeing each other?]" His pointed glare at you as you whisk out a pan from under the stove makes your skin burn hot. You pause, mouth opening and closing as you slowly slide the pot onto the stove. If you say two years, does that link you to Charles too quickly? But if you lie, will Max see right through you? And you can't dodge the question, not here, not now.
"A couple months." You say. Yeah, twenty-four of them, then you scoff when Max makes a face, "[Stop acting like a child.]"
"[And how come Danny knows?]"
"[He found out on accident, and honestly I remember now why I didn't wanna tell you.]" You huff, filling the pot with water and clicking the burner on. You tie your hair up lazily, looking over at Max as your crack-open fridge next to the stove and then turn to grab the ingredients to make the sauce, "[you're treating me like a toddler.]"
"[You're my baby sister, I feel like I am kinda... obligated, to be concerned?]" Max's voice is sharp as you start to whip up the same sauce you've been making since you were fourteen. Max stands up and crosses the room to stand next to you, "[And I'm not treating you like a toddler. It's my job to protect you as your brother.]"
"[I'm a year younger than you! I'm not a baby, you just don't trust me, which is fucking stupid because I'm not the one dating a woman almost a decade older than me!]" You huff as you turn to Max, who tries to stammer some defense to his situation but you don't give him a chance to, "[and I don't know why you think I can't date drivers, by the way, you trust those guys with your life but not my heart?]"
"[Those guys are cheaters, I don't want you hurt.]" Max runs a hand through his hair, watching as you continue making the sauce. You can tell, just by his eyes, that he's thinking of the times you used to make him pasta after races growing up. You try to not think about the past.
"Who?" You ask, looking at the sauce and burning the red color into your retinas, mentally praying that he's not catching onto you.
"Lando, probably." Max huffs, stepping back, "Charles."
"Charles?" You hum, hating that you come to his defense immediately and not Lando's, "[The guy who just announced the girl he's been dating for two years?]"
"[He's done some interesting things.]" Max says in his defense and you can't help but laugh. You knew before Charles met you he had been a bit of a womanizer, or 'man-whore' as your friends so kindly said. But with you, it was like Charles was a brand new person.
"[You're so overdramatic.]" You deadpan, turning to add the noodles to the sauce and Max scoffs.
"[I'm trying to protect you so you don't end up with someone like Dad!]"
"[You haven't even met my boyfriend yet and you're assuming the worst! Why are you being such a dick, Max!?]" You slam the spoon down and then flinch, remembering Penelope is in the other room the second you do it. It takes a few seconds, and then her little head peeks around the doorway.
"Are you fighting?" She asks sweetly and you shake your head.
"No, Penny, it's fine." You try to smile at her, but Max seems to have taken another level of offense to everything.
"Y/n. [Go fuck off to your mystery boy, why don't you?]" Max takes the spoon off the counter. His cold shoulder isn't something new, but it's the way he says it, sounding like the harsh whispers your father would pass at you in public, makes you swallow hard. You walk across the room, grabbing your purse and car keys off the table before kneeling down in front of Penelope and kissing her hairline.
"I'll see you tomorrow, okay honey? Sorry if I scared you when I slammed the spoon down." You squeeze her in a tight hug, closing your eyes as you feel Max's eyes burn into the back of your head.
"Okay, Tante Y/n." She smiles, throwing her tiny arms around you, "And it's okay, I thought you dropped it."
You step back, kissing her hairline again, before getting up and leaving the apartment in a breeze, coffee forgotten. Your hands fumble with your phone, finding Charles' contact and sending him a quick message as you try and calm your anger.
--
You have a spare key, and as you jiggle your phone and keys in your hands to find it, the door swings open and two arms wrap around you. Laughing softly, you bury your face into the fabric of Charles' sweater and sigh heavily. He's warm, smelling of the usual cedar cologne you'd bought for him a while back. He also smells weakly like his hair products and if you try to search for it, your perfume lingers on his neck.
"Hi, amour." You murmur into the fabric and he bends at the knee enough to scoop you up to carry you the few inches inside before popping you back on your feet as he uses one hand to push the door shut.
"Hi." He says back, stepping back and squishing your cheeks in his hands and peppers soft kisses to your hairline, "Sorry about Max."
"It's fine. He's just being overprotective again." You kick off your shoes and follow Charles to the living room, flopping down on his couch and burying your head in your hands.
"You know if..." Charles sighs, hand coming through his hair and then pausing as he scratches at his neck, "If it's gonna be easier for you, I can try and talk to him?"
"No... I should tell him, he's my brother. I just don't think now is a good time?" You say as Charles pops down next to you on the couch and you shift so you can lay his head in your lap as you kick your feet onto the coffee table to rest, "he just seems so... agitated."
"Because you're dating?"
"He's afraid I'm gonna end up with someone like Dad. That's the problem. He doesn't trust anyone with me and gives them no chances. He thought Jolie was a drug dealer for like, six months!"
"She's a teacher?" Charles turns to you and you can't help but just laugh because that's Max.
"I know!" You huff.
Silence lulls for a while, and then Charles sits up and grabs you to unceremoniously pull you against his chest as he lays you both down on the couch. your face squishes against his hands as he peppers soft kisses to your hairline, the apples of your cheeks, and your nose, before pressing one long kiss to your lips. Pulling back just enough to murmur,
"I wanna spend Christmas with you, properly, this year." He says against your lips, your eyes fluttering before he presses his thumb to your pulse to draw you back enough to make eye contact, "I want to be able to post you, to talk about you with everyone because you're so fucking amazing, and I wanna meet your siblings and your mom and go on holidays with you guys and have our moms meet because Maman and Arthur both adore you and..."
Charles drawls off for a moment, hands coming up to cup your face as he thumbs along the warm, delicate skin of your cheeks, "I want, one day, to be able to get down on one knee and give you my whole heart."
Your pulse rams under his touch, cheeks dusted red, eyes wide but happily smiling as he leans in to lock in a long kiss, then he peppers some pecks on the corners of your mouth.
"The problem is, I can't do anything without Max knowing about us. Two years of us dating without telling him is already bad enough and he's been in my life since we were kids--even if we absolutely hated each other at first." Charles sighs, pressing a final quick kiss to your lips before letting you rest your head on his chest, "I feel terrible he doesn't know."
"But you know what he said." You sigh, closing your eyes against the warm fabric of his sweater--the grey one you'd bought for him a while back.
"I know, but we're either going to tell Max, or Max will find out." Charles sighs, "I prefer the first if I'm honest."
Even as you nod in agreement, you feel sick. The bubble of you and Charles had been safe for so long, that you weren't sure if you wanted to let Max in. But he was your brother, a year and fifteen days older, and you had told him everything up to this point. You'd be lying if you said you didn't also feel like shit for keeping Max out of the loop, but yet you feel like you have to.
"How'd Daniel find out?" Charles asks after a moment and he looks at you with those big eyes that make your heart thrum under your skin, love, and adoration seep from him and you don't understand at that moment how he could've ever been a womanizer when he looks at you like you hung the moon and stars just for him.
And then a small smirk peeks across his lips, "Because I know how Carlos did--"
"That one was your fault, Leclerc." You poke his chest, "Not locking the driver's room door was stupid."
"It was! But we're lucky it was Carlos."
"We're lucky we were only kissing."
"[We could've done more.]" He teases, making sure to really ramp up his accent as he speaks French so it's a bit harder for you to follow along, but you get the gist and whack his chest.
"Daniel saw me leaving, he was in the area doing media stuff." You explain, "I guess he saw me leaving."
"Oh, I thought it was because he moved in downstairs last week." Charles hums and you snap your eyes open and exclaim--
"What?!"
"Mhm. And Carlos lives in this building too." Charles looks over at you from where his eyes had been burning a hole in the ceiling, "Mon chéri, a lot of the drivers live in Monaco."
"I'm gonna lose it." You grumble, then pause, sitting up so you're hovering over Charles, one of his hands slides to support your waist immediately so you don't slide off.
"Carlos and Danny know." You say.
"Mhm."
"And... Carlos is your best friend--"
"--Arguably--"
"--and Danny is arguably Max's best friend, behind you."
"Uh-huh."
"...What if we ask them for help?"
"Absolutely not am I asking those two," Charles says and you huff.
"Come on! We clearly can't do it ourselves!" You exclaim, bouncing yourself on him with your arms, making him grunt as your body weight hits him.
"Daniel will tell us to do some sort of skit and Carlos will say for us to just say it!" Charles grips your waist and pulls you closer, "I don't need their shit advice."
"Maybe we need their guidance, and I promise it won't be bad! I promise! We can invite them over, have some wine and dinner, and voice our concerns--maybe they know something about Max we don't! Maybe they'll know he won't be mad or something."
"Y/n." He sighs, tilting his head back and closing his eyes.
"Charles!" You whine, "Look, if they give us shit advice, we kick them out and go back to the drawing board."
"Fine. But I'm holding you to this."
--
"I'm going to kick Danny out in about five seconds." You hiss to Charles and he laughs.
"Dude!" Danny shouts from where he sits on the floor, "I'm just saying, Max likes Charles. We all see it!"
"Believe me." Carlos hums into his wine, "There's a reason that... what is it... Lestappen shit is so popular. He's not gonna be mad its Charles. If it was like... me? Probably. Charles and Daniel are probably the only two drives you could date."
"And Yuki." Charles hums, "I don't think Yuki could do wrong."
"He might stab someone with the chef's knives he got for Secret Santa." Daniel points out and you snort.
"But you seriously have nothing to worry about." Carlos nods, "Honestly, you both are so stressed about it, I don't think either of you can think clearly."
You huff, "I feel like I can be stressed though. Max will either be fine with it or hate me forever."
"No, not forever, étoile." Charles hums, pressing a kiss to the side of your head as he draws you close.
"I don't think Max can physically hate you. I think he'd explode." Daniel hums, "Remember when you were sick and he thought you were ignoring him but you just literally couldn't hear out of one ear and he almost had a crisis?"
"You remember that?" You blink at Daniel. That had been only shortly after you'd met Daniel, the first race of that season. You were so delirious you couldn't remember most of the weekend, but you remember Christian and Daniel holding that over Max's head for weeks after.
"I do because he almost lost his mind for like four hours thinking you were mad at him and ignoring him. And then you rolled over and woke up from your nap." Daniel finishes the unceremonious story and Charles and Carlos burst into high-pitched laughter.
"He didn't think to like, shake her shoulder?" Carlos asks between laughter, finishing off his wine and grabbing a bottle from the little makeshift bowl cooler you put on the floor. He pours himself another glass and then tops everyone else off before putting the bottle back.
"He knew she was sick, and Y/n specifically told him not to touch her or go near her while she was sick." Daniel explains, thanking Carlos before taking a sip of the wine, "It was ridiculous. And then he made her promise that she wasn't actually mad."
"It was pretty funny." You grin and Carlos nods.
"So then Daniel is right, Max can't stand you being angry at him. So he can't be angry with you. If he is, he's a hypocrite, and fuck him, obviously." Carlos raises his glass in mock toast as sarcasm bleeds through his sentence halfway through, "But I can't say he won't be mad. He might be furious when he finds out, you have explained how protective Max can be, but I think he'll feel better knowing it's Charles."
"Charles is like his best friend," Daniel hums, "if you're dating someone he trusts I'm sure he'll feel better about it."
"Didn't we just make this point?" Carlos turns to Daniel who nods.
"Yeah, but it's a good one, so make it again."
"Max trusts Charles so it's fine," Carlos says and you laugh, waving your hands.
"Okay, so how the fuck do we do this?"
The plan is simple but effective. And it takes a few words to describe; be exactly the same, but a bit less secretive.
And the best way to start that is via social media. Once again.
-
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y/nverstappen made a new post! ↴
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liked by carlossainz, charlesleclerc, maxverstappen, and 412k others..
y/nverstappen: he called me his star <3
joliejolie: CYOOTIE PATOOTIE WHHAAAT
user1: caption??? GUYS?? CAPTION??
maxverstappen: i still don't know who
charlesleclerc: thanks for using all my film
charlesleclerc made a new post! ↴
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liked by ynverstappen, danielricciardo, landonorris, and 612k others...
charlesleclerc: never getting rid of this camera.
user2: get me someone who will do this for me.
danielricciardo: DUDE THERE ARE KIDS HERE.
⤷ landonorris: im covering oscar and logans eyes
⤷ logansargeant: yeah ok.
⤷ charlesleclerc: ill get worse
⤷ oscarpiastri: pls no
⤷ carlossainz: ill buy u wine if you do
⤷ danielricciardo: DONT ENCOURAGE THAT WE DONT NEED A FUCKING HOMICIDE ON OUR HANDS??? CARLOS???
⤷ ynverstappen: why is DANIEL on damage control??
user1: why is this the sweetest thing ever?
ynverstappen.jpg: make a jpg coward
⤷ charlesleclerc.jpg: who says i dont have one.
⤷ landonorris.jpg: its just priv.
⤷ danielricciardo: unpriv coward
⤷ charlesleclerc: ok ?
⤷ ynverstappen.jpg: YEAAA SECRET CHARLES PHOTOS!!
charlesleclerc.jpg made a new post! ↴
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charlesleclerc.jpg: in her own world.
arthurleclerc: vomiting. put clothes on.
y/nverstappen: TWO shirtless photos. BRO.
⤷ charlesleclerc: oops.
maxverstappen: so she takes after you with not wearing a shirt?
⤷ charlesleclerc: low blow
⤷ ynverstappen: accurate blow tbh
landonorris: where is ferrari's pr manager.
⤷ carlossainz: no one can help her.
ynverstappen.jpg made a new post! ↴
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y/nverstappen.jpg: some fuckin gems in my camera roll recently
charlesleclerc: omg finally a feature
danielricciardo: WHEN WAS THAT TAKEN I DO NOT RECALL
⤷ carlossainz: shit talk night w her and charles
⤷ danielricciardo: after the advice?
⤷ ynverstappen.jpg: yes and u still owe me a new shirt >:(
maxverstappen: can you ever post a nice photo of me on here?
⤷ y/nverstappen: nope <3!
charlesleclerc: the banana is so old why now
⤷ ynverstappen.jpg: comedy
-
And by god, it starts working.
You're walking with Charles, hands intertwined as you wiggle through the tiny stalls in the small market that's popped up for the holidays. You both find a small corner to hide, stealing a chaste kiss and then you pop a chocolate strawberry in his mouth.
"Oh, damn." He hums, "You are right, these are amazing."
"I told you!" You grin, peeking behind your shoulder to see if anyone is watching. You swear you make eye contact with Max, but the longer you look the less the guy looks like Max so you turn back around.
"You good?" Charles rests a hand on your waist and you nod, taking a strawberry into your mouth and sighing.
"Mhm. Just hate hiding." You lean into his touch, letting him wrap a firm arm around your waist as he peppers a few kisses to your hairline.
"Hey, think about it this way." Charles says, "Soon we won't have to."
As you step back and agree, Daniel pops up next to you with big wide eyes--and not the usual excited ones you're used to seeing.
"Hey, Max, on your six." He pokes your shoulder and you make a face, before Daniel waves his arms around in some sort of odd gesture and hisses out to you, "Clock direction!"
"Oh-!" You whip around as Charles' hand moves off your waist and walking towards you is none other than your brother. Offering a soft smile and wave.
"Hey! Didn't think you'd be here!" You call and he pokes your arm, crossing his arms over his chest as you, Charles, and Daniel kinda scramble to make it look like nothing was going on.
"Kelly wanted to grab some flowers for the kitchen," Max hums. The two of you hadn't really apologized for anything said during the argument. In your family, arguments were never really apologized for, you kinda of just moved on from everything. So even if there was still a bit of an awkward twinge, nothing was said.
"Oh! Somehow Charles and Daniel haven't had the strawberries so I brought them here to try them." You smile, and someone's hand comes to your jaw. You blink as Charles uses one of the napkins to poke your cheek.
"You got chocolate on your face, somehow." He murmurs and you laugh, grabbing his wrist and taking the napkin into your own hands.
"Thank you, Charlie." You blot where he says the chocolate is and you notice Max giving you a weird look. Looking over at your brother, you go to say something before Daniel pulls Max away to look at something, mouthing to you both,
"Be more discreet, maybe?"
And you can't help the giggles that leave your mouth as you lean into Charles and he wraps an arm around you, laughing out apologies.
Yeah, Max was gonna catch on.
-
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and now you and Charles had to get real good at lying and dodging watchful eyes. Monaco was a small little country, and now that it would be filled with more people who knew you, it was about to become a real challenge to see if you could make it through the holidays without anyone knowing or noticing.
Oh, especially when your Christmas Eve dinner was now going to have the Leclerc's stopping by as well.
taglist. thank you!
@angelayse @iamahallucinationnn @ilove-tswizzle @supremebaddietrash
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nikosama13 · 6 months
Text
Monster Trio forgetting it's your birthday! (Luffy, Zoro, Sanji x Reader)
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Description: The monster trio (Luffy, Zoro, Sanji) forget about your birthday!? As one of the brighter crewmates reminds them about it, hopefully they could get you a gift on time or something more..
(A little suggestive..)
Side Notes: Hello my wonderful Loves! This is my absolute fav ideas so far. Plus it’s on my birthday!♪~ ᕕ(ᐛ)ᕗ (Probably spelling mistakes)
Enjoy the read! <3
Consider following..?
~~~
Luffy:
It was the day of your birthday and Luffy woke up in his room as it was like another casual day on the Thousand Sunny, completely forgetting about it.
As he left his room, the ocean breeze hit him in the face which was a new and refreshing feeling for him. The waves were strong but it wasn’t anything that the Sunny couldn’t handle.
He began walking down the hall planning to go sit on the bow of the ship. But then his stomach grumbled, so he made a “quick” detour to the kitchen to get what other than meat.
When he entered the kitchen, it was decorated with colorful string lights and a gorgeous table cloth.
To his left he saw Nami and Robin decorating. Nami was on a ladder and Robin was passing party banners with her devil fruit. To his right he saw Sanji baking something up which smelled great but it wasn’t meat..
“Hii! Whatcha guys doing??” Luffy said in his excited manor.
Nami and Robin turned to face him while Sanji was already walking over to the fridge to get Luffy his meat he has been so longing for.
“We're decorating for y/n’s birthday.” Nami smiled as she tapped down the colorful fabric.
Luffy’s jaw hung from his mouth and his eyes popped out.
“Don’t tell us you forgot..” Robin shot him a concerned look.
“Ah- Uh- Mh-.. of course not..” he looked towards Sanji trying to change the subject.
“Hey, Sanji! Is my meat ready?” He tried to worry about all that confusing birthday stuff later, however he did know that it held great importance to you and the crew.
“Yeah.” Sanji glared at Luffy and set down his meal.
After about 8 minutes Luffy finished eating and ran off to his room.
Nami and Robin giggled about how Luffy was acting and his forgetfulness, but on the other hand it wasn’t like his behavior was anything new to them.
Luffy jetted into his room and began brainstorming ideas on what you’d even want for your birthday. He thought about giving you some food or maybe a pet..? He was really stuck but also really wanted to give you something.
Then it hit him.. He ran out of this room and down to Ussop’s workshop.
The doors swung open, scaring Usopp. “Usopp! I need your help!”
Luffy was hoping he could make this happen.
Usopp jumped out of his chair and hid under the table.
“Jeez Luffy.. y'know you could knock next time..” Usopp scratched the back of his head and sat back up on his chair making room for Luffy to sit.
“So what do you want exactly..?” he asked Luffy.
After a long story of explaining what happened and what he wanted to make for you, him and Usopp spent the rest of the day making this “unknown” gift for you.
---
Right now it was night and all the crew members of the Straw hats were hiding in the kitchen. This included Luffy and Usopp. They all awaited you, as soon as the door handle clicked they’d jump..
You were super confused and almost scared that someone had maybe captured your friends while you were getting ready in your new party dress Nami helped you pick out.
It was too quiet..
Then the door handle clicked and you walked in..
“SURPRISE!!” The whole crew said together.
“Awhh! Thank you so much guys!” you flustered immediately at everyone’s thought of putting this together just for you.
“Have a seat mademoiselle~” Sanji pulled out a chair for you at the table.
After you sat down, everyone scurried around the table and plopped down in their seats.
Then they sang you ‘Happy Birthday’ and your cheeks flushed even more with embarrassment.
Lastly, Sanji handed over to you a knife to cut the cake.
You didn’t even take a second to admire the masterful art work Sanji had put into the whole piece and instead you cut into it like you were stabbing someone.
Later on, after everyone’s wonderful gifts to you it was Luffy’s turn..
Everyone sat silently, surprised their captain actually remembered and brought something.
Now the real question was if it was any good.
You slowly unwrap the decently sized box and low and behold an adorable music box with your name engraved in the front of it and your favorite colors painted all around.
Everyone stared at Luffy including you.
Then you flipped the music box over to twist the knob and you also noticed some lettering saying “Built by Usopp The Great”.
You smiled at Usopp, also thanking him for his hard work.
Finally.. It was time for some real partying as all of you sang and danced.
Most of the crew got drunk too, excluding Chopper, Robin, and Sanji.
You and drunk Luffy headed out alone to the front part of the Sunny when you planted a small kiss on his forehead, making both of you a blushing mess.
“Thank you..Luffy.” you smiled and gave him a signature Nami hug as your chest engulfed his face.
By the end of the night the music box was placed in the center of your vanity but shaking violently. I wonder why.. (˵¯͒〰¯͒˵)
Zoro:
Zoro was in a deep sleep..
That was, until he woke to the sounds of the Straw Hats running around the ship frantically.
Pots and tins clattering, Nami’s voice yelling at what sounded like to Luffy and Usopp “do something helpful around here!” and lastly chopper’s hooves running on the deck, holding some colorful paper.
“Oi, what the hell is going on here??” Zoro said unhappy, because he was awakened from his nap. He rubbed his eyes and was met with the unpleasant sight of.. Sanji.
Sanji shot him a mean glare, “It’s y/n’s Birthday, mosshead.”
Zoro was too shocked to talk back to Sanji, instead he sat there on the floor with his eyes bulging out of his head.
“Oh.” Zoro said flustered because of his forgetfulness.
“Looks like someone forgot~” Sanji teased.
“Shut up, cook” Zoro stood up and walked towards Sanji.
Both of them cracked their knuckles, ready to brawl.
Nami rolled her eyes in a “here we go again..” manner. Then she proceeded to take care of the situation..
Zoro and Sanji parted ways with huge bumps on their heads.
When Zoro arrived in his room he plopped down on this bed and tried to sleep, but something was bugging him..
Like he was forgetting something.. your gift.
He sprung out of his bed and began pacing around his room, thinking of what to buy you.
Something new.. Or old.. Shiny or brightly colored.
He had no clue.
As the day went on and you and the Straw Hats partied. Drinks, food, “wonderful” singing from Luffy, and dancing.. it was almost like the ocean was dancing with you.
However Zoro, watched you closely. No gift in mind or hand at the moment..
Then Chopper announced “Let's open these gives y/n!”
You smiled and nodded.
“Sure, I’d love to!” The crew went around in a circle and passed you their gifts.
Nami gave you a new dress with your favorite colors and Robin bought you a small pocket mirror.
“Thank you so much guys!” you smiled and thanked them.
Sanji turned to Zoro purposely, knowing that Zoro wouldn't have a gift for you.
“How about you, mosshead..?”
Sanji smirked at him.
Zoro glared at him, it was as if he wanted to cut him in two.
“I have something in mind, but it shouldn’t concern you, cook.” he continued to stare a hole through Sanji.
“Hm.. sure you do..” then Sanji turned to you.
“If the mosshead doesn’t give you a gift I’ll take care of it.” he winked at you.
You nodded again, kind of grossed out and looked away from the whole situation.
After the Straw Hats left the deck and were probably sleeping from all the partying.
You walked up to Zoro and looked at him.
“So what’s this secret gift.. Hm?” You stood in front of him.
“Heh. Impatient I see..” he leaned in super close to you.
“W-why so close..?” you started getting flustered.
“I’m just giving you my gift…” he smirked mischievously at you.
Then it happened so quickly that your brain needed a couple of seconds to process what he was doing to you.
He was kissing you.
You didn’t pull away though.. you pushed yourself closer on him.
After a solid minute he pulled you two apart. He was blushing and panting, but so were you.
“Did you enjoy your birthday gift..?”
“Very much so..” you smiled at him.
On the bright side I guess you wouldn't have to be telling Sanji how Zoro didn’t get you a gift..
Sanji:
It was a sunny day on the Thousand Sunny. Sanji woke up as per usual and made the crew their breakfast.
As the Straw Hats ate, they began speaking about you.
Specifically your birthday.
“I’m gonna get y/n one of those music boxes for her birthday!” Nami announced as she smiled ear-to-ear.
When Sanji heard this he almost burnt the meat he was cooking up for Luffy.
“T-that’s today..?” Sanji asked, his voice shaky.
“Duh!” Luffy butted in.
“Oh..” Sanji was trembling as thoughts raced through his mind. He felt ashamed.
How could he forget? Why did he forget? Was he that busy he forgot about you?
But most of all, what would he get you..? However, with luck on his side they were close to arriving at a port with supplies.
Hopefully.. no, he would definitely buy you something from there.
No matter what.
A couple of hours went by and the crew had finally docked in port and everyone ran off somewhere.
Nami, You, and Robin went out shopping, as your way of celebrating. Luffy, Ussop, Franky and Chopper ran out to some restaurant and lastly, Zoro was keeping watch over the ship. In other words he was sleeping..
As for Sanji.. Well he was scrambling all over town to find you something.
Eventually, the crew all met back up on the ship with “minor” issues.
The rest of the night was dedicated to you, drinking, dancing, and making a mess of the ship.
When you opened your gifts up you loved everything you got. From a new handbag to a half-alive fish from Luffy.
Then it was Sanji’s turn.
He handed the gift over to you. It was wrapped to perfection in expensive paper..
When you unwrapped it, you were met with a small box.
Then you opened the box and to your surprise it was a stunning ruby necklace.
“S-sanji.. This is beautiful..” you picked up the piece and examined every shine and detail of it.
Sanji just simply stood there and smiled at you.
“H-how much was th-” he cut you off.
“The price doesn’t matter, mademoiselle. But.. if I were you, I’d look at the back of it..” he said, smiling so hard it hurt.
You spun the piece around on it's back side and there it said..
"Be mine.”
Your cheeks became a shade of crimson.
Everyone else on the Sunny was either drunk or knocked out cold on the floor, sleeping.
“Will you..?” Sanji stepped closer to you and sneakily creeped his hands up your waist.
“Y-yes, yes I will.” you blushed, it was like your body was a magnet to his.
He could resist the way you looked at him, all shy and confused.
So he kissed you.
It lasted for a few seconds and you two pulled apart.
“Shall we take this to my room madam..?” He smiled mischievously.
“Of course dear.” you smiled back.
Let’s just say that your new necklace wasn’t the only thing taken off that night.. ~~~
The End~
Thank you so, so, so much for reading! (It’s also my birthday today so tysm! <3)
Consider following..?
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