#outside of my own head so if nothing else i guess it was kind of useful for that? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

appocalipse · 3 months

Note

hello ♥ i'd like to request faded photograph + antique lock and key set with steve. maybe after what happened in s4 with steve and nancy and all that r decides to leave hawkins because she's sure he still loves nancy and she wants to move on? and if you want it could have a happy ending with one of those super cute love confessions ♥♥♥

ahhhh this is so steve! ♥ (also this is my version where eddie and max are alive and fine and hawkins is safe again)

visit amy's flea market ♥

"I need to tell you something."

Steve is not sure he likes the tone of your voice. It's somber, serious. His gut clenches, and for a brief moment, he scares himself with the thought that something might be wrong with you, something he might not be able to help with.

And it's raining outside, for God's sake. It's never good news on a rainy day like this, is it?

"Everything... everything is fine?"

"Yeah. Yes, everything is...fine."

You smile, but Steve notices it doesn't quite reach your eyes.

You look at him as if the words are stuck in your throat, as if they're heavy and you desperately want to get rid of them.

Finally, you clear your throat.

"I'm leaving."

Steve feels as if the wind has been knocked out of him. "What?"

"I'm leaving. Hawkins, I mean. Tomorrow."

You shrug, as if you're not sure what else to do with your arms, and then you turn around and Steve can't even attempt to read your expressions anymore.

He knows you've been thinking about college and your future, but he thought... well, he thought you'd stay. You'd told him months ago that you were actually planning to stay. And now...

Steve clears his throat, trying to keep his voice steady. And because he's sure this can't be happening, he double-checks, "For...for good?"

"Yeah. For good."

The silence between you feels like a living thing, thick and suffocating. Steve can feel the weight of it pressing down on him, making it hard to breathe. He wants to say something, anything, but nothing comes out. He's not sure if he's in shock or if he's just too stunned to form words.

"Why?" The question finally escapes him. "Why are you leaving?"

You turn back to him, and for a moment, Steve thinks he sees a glimmer of something in your eyes. Is it... sadness? Regret?

"I...I'm not sure, I guess," you say. "Just...why not?"

The words sound pathetic even to your own ears, but you can't help it. It's not like you don't love this place, this town, your friends... Steve. You do. You love it all.

Too much.

And it's different now. Hawkins is safe. The kids are safe. You're out of excuses to stay and get your heart broken a little further. It feels like it's time to move on, to leave behind the shadow of the Upside Down, to stop waiting for something to happen.

But Steve looks at you like you're making the biggest mistake of your life, and then he says the last words you'd expect him to say right now. "You want to leave and you don't even know why?"

It's not anger in his voice, but it's close. It's desperation and fear and a kind of raw pain that you'd expect to see in the eyes of someone who's just been told they have a terminal illness or something.

"I just..." you stammer, feeling the weight of his gaze pressing down on you. "I have to."

Steve shakes his head, looking as if he's trying to will you to stay. "You don't have to."

"Yes I do! In a way that you don't understand."

"Then explain it to me!"

You're angry now, and a little hurt. All of your other friends supported your decision; Eddie, the kids. Nancy. And out of all of them, Steve is your best friend. Shouldn't he understand most of all?

"It's not that easy! You don't understand what it's like here! I can't...I can't just stay!"

Steve takes a step back, clearly hurt. "What do you mean I don't understand?"

"I mean..." You trail off, feeling helpless.

What are you supposed to do? Tell him how you are such a coward you cannot stand to see him and Nancy find their way back to each other?

"...doesn't matter," you murmur. "Doesn't matter. You'll be fine, okay? You have... everyone."

The words taste bitter in your mouth, and you can tell they're not sitting well with Steve. He looks at you like you've just slapped him, and you feel a pang of guilt. But what else can you do? You can't tell him the truth. You can't tell him that you're leaving because you're terrified of never getting over your stupid feelings for him, of watching him and Nancy falling in love with each other all over again.

You can't tell him that every time you think about it, you feel like you're drowning.

"Look," you say, forcing a smile, "it's not like I'm never coming back or anything. I'll...I'll visit. And...and I'll...call."

Steve doesn't return your smile. He just looks at you for a long moment, his eyes searching yours, as if he's trying to find something. Something that you've been keeping hidden. And then he shakes his head, and a small, sad smile finally tugs at the corner of his lips.

"You know what?" he says, his voice barely above a whisper. "Maybe...maybe I should come with you."

You look at him, stunned. You hadn't even considered the possibility. Steve...leaving Hawkins? With you? It's a strange, surreal thought, and...no. Absolutely not.

That would totally ruin your plan.

"What?"

"Yeah," Steve says, surprising you again. "I mean...why not? It's not like I've got anything keeping me here. And maybe...maybe it'd be good for me to get away. You know? See something new, do something different."

He looks at you, hope in his eyes. And for a moment, you almost consider it. Almost. Because it's so much easier saying yes to Steve than saying no. You could be together, away from all the memories and the reminders of everything you've been through...but you'd still be just friends.

He'd be with you everyday, and that's the last thing you need.

You can't stand the thought of watching him find someone else, fall in love, and live happily ever after. Of course, you want him to have all of those things; you just don't want to watch.

Steve seems to sense your hesitation, his hope fading.

"You don't want me in your life," it's not a question.

You panic.

"No! I mean...I do, I..." You can feel the words tumbling out of you before you even realize what you're saying. "You just..."

"Is that why you want me to stay here? Just so you don't have to deal with me anymore?"

"No!" You shake your head violently. "Of course not! That's not it at all!"

But the words feel hollow, even to you. Because in some twisted, secret part of your mind, that's exactly how you feel. You want him to stay here, where it's safe, where he can't get close to you, where he can't hurt you. You know it's selfish, but you can't help it.

Steve's expression softens, and he takes a step closer. "Be honest with me."

You make an effort not to move.

"I'm sorry," you manage to say, your voice barely audible. "I don't want you to come with me, but it's not because...I just...I don't think it's a good idea. It'd be better for you to stay here, where you belong. You deserve...you deserve to be happy. Your life is here, your job...she is here."

"She?"

"Nance."

Steve's face twists into a bitter grimace. "What does Nancy have to do with anything?"

"I just mean...well, c'mon, she was your first love, and you still love her, it's clear, a-and now she's single again-"

"Wait, wait, wait, hold on a second here," Steve says, his voice suddenly raised. "Nancy? You think I'm still in love with Nancy? You're kidding, right?"

You blink, surprised by the vehemence in his tone. But Steve has always been…protective of his feelings, refusing to really understand them. You had seen how he and Nance looked at each other when no one was around, how he would light up whenever she was near...even when you were in the Upside Down, fighting for your lives, Steve's eyes would sometimes drift towards Nancy, his expression softening.

It's obvious to you.

"Forget it," you say. "It's none of my business, I just...I want you to be happy."

"I am happy," Steve says, his voice low. "I'm happy with you here."

It feels like the air has been sucked out of the room. You want to say something, to apologize or explain or reassure...but you can't find the words, and with the way Steve is looking at you now, you're not even sure what it is you want to say anymore.

"Steve," you murmur in a small, quiet voice, your heart feeling like it's tearing in two.

He takes another step closer, and you feel your heart start to race. He cups your face in his hands, his touch gentle but firm, and leans in until his breath is warm against your lips. "Don't go anywhere," he asks.

Right this moment, you're not entirely sure you'd be able to if you tried.

Your feelings are confused enough. Being this close doesn't help.

"Steve," his name rolling off your tongue is somewhere between a plea and a warning as you look up into his eyes, chest heaving. You tell yourself you want to pull away, that you simply can't find the strength.

"You really think that?" he whispers. "You really think I'm still in love with her?"

His hands are still cupping your face, his thumbs brushing against your cheeks as his lips part, and he slowly leans in, closer, until his nose is almost touching yours.

You fist your hands in the fabric of his shirt, trying to will yourself not to give in to this, to not feel this way, to not want this. "Please don't," you manage to choke out. "Don't do this."

His lips brush against yours, soft and hesitant. "Don't do what?" he whispers against your mouth. "Don't love you?"

"Steve." Desperation. Feels like the world is spinning out of control.

He pulls back, eyes searching yours. "What do you want me to do?"

Your throat feels tight. "Don't do this," you manage to whisper. "Don't choose me because you think I'm a consolation prize."

He frowns, confusion flitting across his features. "What are you talking about?"

You swallow hard, feeling the tears burning at the back of your eyes. "I don't want you to do this just because you don't want me to leave, or because you're lonely, or-"

Steve cuts you off with a gentle shake of his head. "I know that's not true, and you know that's not true," he says, his voice soft. "But if it's what you need to hear..."

He kisses you properly this time.

It's the kind of kiss that makes your toes curl, your heart skip a beat, and your stomach flip-flop. It's the kind of kiss that leaves you breathless, and a little dizzy, and more than a little bit in love. It's the kind of kiss that tells you, without a single word being spoken, that you are wanted, and cherished, and loved.

"Do you feel like a consolation prize when I do this?" he whispers against your lips. And he kisses you again, slowly, his weight pressing you against the wall. You feel the warmth of his body against yours, the hardness of his muscles beneath your fingertips. "Or when I do this?"

He trails his lips down your neck, leaving a trail of tiny kisses behind. You sigh, arching into him, and he chuckles softly.

"Steve..."

"Or this?"

He pulls back slightly, cupping your face with his hands, looking into your eyes as he trails his thumbs across your cheekbones. The softness of his touch catches you off guard. His gaze is intense, searching, and you feel like maybe he can see something there that no one else ever could.

"Do you really feel like a consolation prize?" Steve gently brushes his nose against yours. He smiles. "Because if you do..." He leans in, lips parting just enough for his breath to tease across your skin. "...I'll prove you wrong."

"Actually," you smile, feeling the warmth spread from your chest up to your cheeks. You wrap your arms around his neck. "I think I might need some more... convincing."

Steve grins, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Well, then." He leans in, pressing his lips against yours in a soft, gentle kiss. "I guess that's what I'll have to do."

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington x you #steve harrington oneshot #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington angst #steve x you #steve x reader #stranger things fanfic #stranger things imagine #steve harrington drabble #🏷️ amy's flea market #amy's flea market

702 notes · View notes

eggcats · 1 month

Text

Radiodust/Radiohuskerdust fic where Alastor has the ability to know and remember ANYTHING and EVERYTHING that's been played on any radio in hell, since he's arrived

(He also has the ability to control what people listen to, but forcing people to listen to his radio show is uncouth and Vox levels of desperation, so he doesn't. However, he DOES prevent anyone else from using his airwaves during his scheduled showtime, because it's rude otherwise.)

Angel discovers this one day when he's lamenting about some song being stuck in his head that he heard on the radio, like 2 weeks ago, and after he hums part of the melody Alastor just starts playing it for him. And Angel is like "?????? what???" While Alastor is just like "My dear, I know everything that broadcasts over my airwaves, this is child's play."

Angel is suspicious, his entire mood is

And so, a game begins where Angel will hear a song he's POSITIVE Alastor would have never listened to, and then he quizzes Alastor later to see if he can still guess the song. So far, Alastor has never not played the correct song Angel is thinking about. (Angel could always lie, but that's outside the spirit of the game, so he never does.)

Eventually it develops into Alastor immediately guessing which song Angel will ask him about, leading to confusing most other members of the hotel when as SOON as Angel walks into a room Alastor is in, he will play some music and Angel will yell "goDAMMIT SMILES GIVE ME A FUCKIN' SECOND FIRST!"

The only time Alastor starts getting the songs wrong is when Angel, seemingly out of the blue, starts only listening to love songs. He's unsure what changed, but it seems like Angel is determined to only make Alastor play love songs for him now.

Therefore, Alastor becomes convinced that Angel is trying to figure out how to confess to Husk his feelings. And despite not being good with those feelings himself, he offers to assist in his endeavor since he's known Husker for a great deal of time. (If the idea makes Alastor kind of uncomfortable and sick, it's simply because soft emotions do so, and NOTHING about Angel no longer giving him any attention. Clearly.)

(You can choose your own adventure, but I like to go with the radiohuskerdust angle personally.)

So, with the radiohuskerdust angle, it's funnier if, by this point, Angel and Husk are already dating. And so now Angel has to deal with the guy he likes trying to set him up with his boyfriend. Husk is absolutely no help, he finds it hilarious. (This is all the more exasperated by Alastor seeing Angel complain to Husk about this situation, and try to ask for advice on how to tell Alastor that the love songs are for HIM, and Alastor assuming his advice is working.)

#hazbin hotel #alastor #angel dust #husk #husker #radiodust #radiohuskerdust #hazbin alastor #hazbin angel dust #hazbin husk #long post #fic #mine #radiohusk #huskerdust

390 notes · View notes

voonroo · 3 months

Text

Hell? [01]

⌐‣Hazbin Hotel + Bat-Like Teen Reader

Want more? Check out the masterlist↩︎

Want to chat? Check out my discord server↩︎

AUTHOR’S NOTE: YOOOOO SHOUT OUT TO @blueberrymuffin-6 FOR BEING THE FIRST PERSON TO GUESS THAT READER WOULD BE LIKE A BAT!!! I'm so happy someone picked up on my hints. I'm really excited to post this chapter considering how much love the first one got😭 THANK YOU GUYS SM FOR THE LOVE AND SUPPORT THE HAZBIN FANDOM HAS SHOWN FOR MY TEEN READER WRITINGS💝

Also I can't guarantee that there won't be triggering subjects in the future chapters!! There's nothing of that here yet and I will put warning when needed but you’ll only find something this chapter if you REALLY look.

I'd love to hear from you guys your speculations as well!! Send them through my inbox or contact me in discord!! I love interacting with you guys!!

My head hurts…

Am I lying down?

Is it raining?

Opening your eyes, you were met with a dull light to your right, everything else was dark. Rubbing your eyes, you groggily sat up.

You could see, but the light to your right was actually making it hard… You felt a light weight on your head and slight pain in your back. You looked down, you had… fur?

Taking deep breaths, you closed your eyes. You could hear everything so well. From the sound of your heart, to the rain outside.

Where am I?

How did I get here?

Considering that you couldn't remember anything, you felt strangely calm. Like a blanket was over your head and you were blocking out the world around you.

The rain was nice… soft blankets, a plushie? What was it...? It was dark? I had a flashlight, a book? And whatever the plushie was…

A sudden knock interrupted your thoughts. The noise caught you so off guard you physically jumped, you tried to look at the door as you heard the knob turning.

“Oh! You're awake!” You heard a quick patter of footsteps coming in your direction, before a blob entered your vision- or what little vision you had anyway. You couldn't make out the shape in front of you, even with your eyes wide open. There was… red? Or maybe pink? You couldn't tell. Your eyes darted around, and your breathing picked up.

“Hey now- You're all tense! What are you anyways?” The blog had a cheery voice, rather high-pitched. It hurt your ears. You could feel a small hand grab at your arm- rubbing the fur.

“Nifty!” Another sudden noise made you jump. Your body tensing up in a panic. You couldn't hear the rain anymore even if it was so close… You could only hear your heart beating quickly and your uneven breathing.

Then, there were hands cupping your face, a calm, quiet voice accompanying it.

“Hey, calm down.” On instinct, you took a deep breath. Were you holding your breath before? Or were you breathing too rapidly? Where were you again? Sitting up right? Wait- it's raining… that's right… it's raining.

“Are you okay?” The voice to the hands cupping your cheeks spoke again. You could barely focus your eyes enough to see more than just gray. Did the voice have a… wait- the voice asked me a question-

“I-I can't see…” You almost didn't recognize your own voice. It came out so quietly, hardly audible.

You could have sworn you saw the gray blob furrow their eyebrows.

“What's your name?”

“I don't… I don't know?”

The calm the voice was deemed Vaggie.

Vaggie described herself as having long grey hair, grey skin- which you initially found weird- and a pink X over her left eye.

Vaggie told you that the loud, almost squeaky voice that you first heard was Nifty. She also told you where you were and what had happened for you to be here.

You had previously run into one of their friends named… Angel Dust? And apparently, passed out? Then he brought you here, and… here is… I don't remember…

You do remember Vaggie telling you that there were other people here and they were made aware of your existence as well.

Vaggie was also kind enough to explain that you were in hell… she also took the creative liberties in describing to you what you looked like.

“Well… You did take on the appearance of a bat- which is normal, it's normal for people to take on animal-like appearances in hell. For instance, we have someone here who takes on deer antlers and someone who has fur like you but looks like a cat… But you have these ears above your head, small wing protruding from your back, and… foggy eyes-”

The two of you spent time making the connections. The big bat-like ears atop your head gave you really good hearing, and the wings on your back were the cause of your back pain, (and the fact that you had been lying on them) and your foggy eyes contributed to your lack of sight. You took on the appearance of a bat.

The two of you tried to answer Vaggie’s earlier question from before about your name, but to no avail. She had to force you to stop trying to figure it out when you started getting worked up. You did come to the conclusion that you were very young- at least very young to be in hell. Guessing that you were around 15 years of age. Maybe a little younger or maybe a little older, but it felt right enough.

Or maybe you guys had settled on that answer as you dozed back off. The rain hadn't let up and with all this new information to really process, Vaggie let you rest. The clock was growing near to striking morning anyways.

Word Count: 817

A/N: I've also made the tag #voonroo’s bat-like reader for you guys to use as well if you make any posts on it!!

448 notes · View notes

lipglossanon · 2 months

Text

Bound For The Floor

dogman!Leon S. Kennedy x puppy!fem reader (one shot)

Dedicated to 🍁 anon! I hope you enjoy it!! 💜 😘

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, reader is mid 20’s with Leon being older, appearances from Ark Thompson and Chris Redfield, jealous Leon, masturbation, dirty talk, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, knotting, biting, aftercare

looked over a smidge 🤏

Title from Bound for the Floor by Local H

It’s raining the day you’re brought home. To your new home. You’ve been chosen by a man with kind eyes to keep his other hybrid company while he works. He smells nice and he’s gentle when handling you so you’re more than amenable to joining his little family. Ark is his name, kinda funny but you think it’ll be super easy to remember since it rhymes with bark— something you’re very good at when called for (not that good pups bark a lot).

He talks to you on the drive from the adoption agency to his home, explaining his routine and describing the dogman you’ll be living with from now on as well. Ark even shows you a picture of Leon on his phone while you’re stopped at a redlight, making your tail wag in excitement at meeting the rugged looking hybrid.

In shy, halting words, you tell him about your short stint at the adoption agency. Raised with only caretakers, they finally gave you over to the agency fairly recently in the hope of finding you a forever home. You’ve experienced nothing but kindness and understanding with the outside world which might make you a little naive; however, it does nothing to dilute how happy you are at the opportunity to have your very first owner.

“Leon, we’re home!” Ark calls out into the empty foyer as he sets all of your things down on the floor.

Your eyes are comically big as you take in everything around you, nose scenting the air and picking up a delicious smell that has you drifting further into the house. A gruff hum pulls your attention to the hybrid Ark had called Leon.

You smile at him, tail wagging nonstop, “Hi!”

His lip curls in distaste but he only stares you down without saying anything.

“Leon,” Ark’s voice lilts in warning, “be nice.”

Leon rolls his eyes with a snort, but walks closer to you.

“Hello,” he grits out and your tail wags harder.

“It’s so nice to meet you,” you smile even bigger.

“Get along, okay?” Your owner ruffles your ears and you turn your bright smile to him.

Nodding, you hum in agreement. Ark shoots another stern look to Leon and walks off further into the house.

“You smell nice,” you offer up to the serious dogman in front of you, “I’ve never smelled anyone as good as you before.”

A red flush bridges his nose and cheeks as he shrugs, “Yeah, right.”

You pout, “I mean it. Can I scent you?”

His body stiffens in place as his look shifts from disbelief to sheer surprise.

“Uh, I guess—“

“Great!” You walk forward until your chests are nearly touching, “I’ve only ever done this with my litter mates, so I’m unsure on how to scent someone else.”

You can see Leon swallow as he tilts his head, “Oh? You smell like a kennel.”

You laugh, missing his gaze raking down your body, “Yeah, I’ve been waiting on our owner for a day and they keep us in a kennel so nothing happens before the adoption.”

Leon nods although you’ll come to find later that his adoption was much rougher and less pleasant than your own experience.

You lean forward and bury your nose against his neck, whimpering when you can smell him unencumbered. You breathe in freshly mown grass and a spicy musk that has your mouth watering. Snuffling against him, you don’t realize you’re rolling your hips against his.

Leon hands grip your hips but he only helps you rock yourself against him in a way that makes you whine and pant against his skin. Distantly, you feel his nose press against your neck and breathe in your own scent. He growls and you whine, tilting your head so he can nip and lick at your soft skin.

With a low growl, Leon pries himself away from you even as you chase after the pleasurable feeling coursing through your body.

“Behave, pup,” he murmurs in your ear and you let him pull away.

“Leon,” you whine at him, pawing his chest as you watch him close his eyes and take a steady breath.

“I need to go find our owner, stay here,” he walks you over to the couch and presses you down on the soft cushions.

When you go to rise as he steps back he holds his hand out.

“Stay. Be a good girl for me.”

You go hot all over, “Okay.”

His eyes darken but he turns and leaves the room, bringing Ark back after a few minutes.

“I feel hot,” you slur out, eyes pleading up at the men in front of you.

Leon stands behind Ark, stiff as a board while he watches.

“Poor thing,” Ark soothes, softly rubbing your ears, “looks like Leon may have triggered an early heat.”

You sigh as Ark gently massages your ears and temples.

“Leon, can you take the rest of her things up to her room? I’ll carry her up and we’ll let her rest,” your owner says over his shoulder and your eyes track Leon as he leaves the room.

“I want—“

“I know,” Ark sighs, “but let’s get you settled in and some meds in you. Tomorrow you’ll feel better.”

“M’kay,” you mumble, slumping into his chest as he picks you up bridal style.

You feel him set you on a soft bed and coax you to swallow some icky tasting medicine before allowing you to drift off to sleep. At some point in the night, that delicious smell from earlier seeps into your brain and has you maneuvering until your face is buried in a warm chest. A low pleased rumble makes you press the dough of your thighs together as you sink deeper into sleep.

The next morning you wake up to the door opening.

“Leon,” Ark’s voice sighs out, “I thought I told you to let her rest.”

Arms snake out to wrap around your back and pull you further into the warm body in front of you.

“I was here in case she needed something,” the dogman’s rough voice sent goosebumps skating across your skin.

Ark’s palm brushes across your ears and you giggle and turn in Leon’s arms to look up at your owner.

“Are you feeling better?” His brown eyes pinch with worry.

“Much better,” you smile, “just a little tired.”

Ark’s eyes crinkles when he smiles in relief, “Good. I’ll let you rest some more. Leon can help you if you need anything.”

Your owner ruffles first your ears then Leon’s before slipping back out of the bedroom, closing the door behind him. Feeling shy, you shimmy away from Leon and climb out of bed.

“Thank you for looking out for me,” you tug on a loose thread on your shirt.

He grunts in acknowledgment and you look over into his face. His blue eyes stare you down for a split second before he climbs out of bed as well.

“Yeah, well s’only the right thing to do,” he mutters, “make sure to take those meds.”

He jerks his head to the nightstand behind you and you see that Ark must have brought up medicine and water when he checked in on you.

“I will,” you nod, smiling at the grumpy dogman as he brushes his hair back, “thanks, Leon.”

“Don’t mention it,” he waves you off, following in Ark’s footsteps as he slips out of your room.

You quickly take the heat suppressants and smile to yourself. It’s nice having a friend. Crawling back into bed, you shove your face in the pillow Leon used and sigh happily. He just smells so good! Your tail thumps against the bed as you breathe in his scent more. A small whine parts your lips as your cunt grows hot and wet, clit throbbing as the smell of fresh grass and spice fill your nose.

You can’t help yourself as your fingers slip beneath the band of your underwear to tease across your slit. Panting against the pillow, you hump your fingers and let yourself pretend they were bigger and thicker. It doesn’t take long for you to cum, slick coating your hand along with the gusset of your panties. A yawn overtakes you and before you can get up to change, you fall asleep with your face buried in Leon’s scent.

After that weird welcome home, Leon pretty much keeps to himself. When Ark’s around, he’s nearby, but acts aloof and distant if you try to befriend him. You’re really bummed out, and you don’t want him to snap at you like he did at the neighbor’s hybrid, a nice boy named Steve, so you just try to be polite and stay out of his way. You’re pretty much glued to your owner’s side anyways. He smells almost as good as Leon, like fresh coffee and leaves, so you’re constantly trying to sit in his lap.

Leon always snarls his lip when he sees you snuggled up to Ark, letting him pet your ears and tail while he watches tv or reads. The first time you offered to move so Leon could get his ears rubbed, he turned his nose up and sat on the other side of the room; since then, you ignore him and happily enjoy Ark’s soft head pats.

But, every now and then, Leon does something nice that makes your heart flutter and leads you to think he likes you more than he shows. Falling asleep on the couch and then waking up in your bed, seeing your favorite food already prepared for lunch, or even simple chores being done before you get to them. Those little things have you seeking him out in thanks, but he always waves you away with a gruff word paired with a small blush on his cheekbones.

One day, you come home from your walk with Ark only to smell someone new. Your ears perk up as your owner chuckles and gestures for you to walk on into the house while he takes off his shoes. Quickly beelining to the living room where the smell is stronger (a nice blend of sandalwood and vanilla), you stop in place to see Leon laughing at something another dogman is saying.

“Oh, hello,” you give a shy wave to the two sitting on the couch.

Leon glances over at you, eyes darting from you to the hybrid next to him. The stranger gives you a wide smile, drawing your eyes to his heavily stubbled jaw.

“Hi, I’m Chris, you must be Leon’s new pup,” he grins over at the quiet dogman.

You feel a flush of warmth spread throughout your chest from his words.

“She’s not my pup,” Leon mutters under his breath, but you still hear it making your smile a little dimmer.

Chris ignores his friend and pats the spot open to his left, “Sit next to me so I can get to know you.”

You nod your head and walk a wide half circle to avoid being in Leon’s space to sit on the couch beside Chris. Quickly taking in his appearance, your tail wags when he smiles at you again.

“I’ve been meaning to come over for a while. If I’d have known Leon had such cute company, it would’ve been sooner,” he angles his head to wink at you and one of his ears tilts back.

Smiling, you shrug, “Well maybe you can visit more now. I love making new friends.”

Chris laughs and it causes your tail to thump against the couch. Unbeknownst to you, Leon tenses and elbows Chris in the ribs.

“Well, as much as I’d love to stay, I’m pretty sure my owner is looking for me by now,” Chris lumbers to his feet and you have to crane your neck to keep eye contact.

“I’ll see you to the door,” Leon stands next.

You wave while Leon practically steers Chris out of the room.

“It’s nice meeting you,” Chris calls out before rounding the corner.

“You too!” You move from the living room to watch Leon close the door behind his friend.

“He’s nice,” you offer, smiling at the dogman.

Leon grunts, “Chris is okay.”

You pause, not really understanding why Leon seems upset with you.

“If-if you want to hang out alone with him, I can ask Ark to take me for walks when he visits,” you fiddle with your shirt hem, “I don’t want to get in your way or anything.”

Leon doesn’t say anything and you nod, slipping off to your room. Your chest hurts with disappointment leading you to curl up in a ball in the center of your bed, falling into a fitful sleep. Later the snick of your door shutting has you raising your head up, eyes slowly adjusting to the figure walking to your bed.

“Leon?” Your voice rasps with sleep.

“Yeah,” he whispers, kneeling on your bed before shifting until he can lay down, pulling your back to his chest, arms encircling your waist.

You stiffen against him, confused as to what he’s doing there.

“I’m sorry,” he presses the words against your ear, “I’ve been pretty rude to you and it’s nothing you’ve done. From here on out, I’m gonna treat you better.”

You hum happily, “Thanks, Leon.”

“Can I sleep in here tonight?”

“Sure,” you yawn, sleep already tugging your eyelids closed, “‘m happy we’re friends.”

“Friends,” he laughs to himself, “right.”

Weeks go by and Leon is true to his word. He’s more friendly and hangs around you even without Ark being around. He’s also way more touchy feely to your delight. Constantly scent marking you before you leave the house on your walks, going so far as to let you borrow his clothes if Ark is taking you to the park or even out while he shops.

It makes those butterflies in your chest swarm and your heart beat fast whenever he does those kinds of things. And since he never asks for his shirts back, you wear them to bed, hands tucked into your panties as you breathe in his scent and get yourself off. You would feel a bit bad, but you see how Leon stares at you the next day—like he can smell the effect he has on you and it makes your skin buzz.

There’s no telling how long this would have gone on, but luckily for you, Ark forgot to refill your meds and he’s out for the night, leaving you and Leon home alone. You truly only meant to tease the handsome dogman, make him feel as out of sorts as you do when he’s around; however, you didn’t realize how much being off of your medicine would affect you.

Just being next to him on the couch as you watch television is making your palms sweat and your nipples hard. Trying to sit still is impossible. The more you shift around, the more uncomfortable you are until Leon’s hand comes down on your thigh like a hot brand on your skin. Whimpering, you press the dough of your thighs together, squishing his fingers in between the soft skin.

“What’s gotten into you?” His low voice rumbles through your ears making your cunt leak into your panties.

Not thinking it through, you sit up into a kneel and clamber onto his lap.

“It’s hot,” you whine, grinding yourself down onto him, “want you to make me feel better, Leon.”

“Wha—“

You swivel your hips and feel his cock thicken underneath your ass, pressing against the seam of your shorts and making your eyelashes flutter.

With a groan, Leon grabs your hips to stop them from bouncing down on his bulge.

“Sweetheart—“

His voice dips out into a low moan as you lap at a sensitive spot on his neck before licking the shell of his ear. You feel his cock twitch and kick against your clothed pussy and it makes you whine.

“B-bad girl,” he hisses, head falling back against the couch, ears flopping, “bad girl, bad p-puppy, oh fuck.”

You nip his bottom lip before messily licking into his mouth, grinding down on his thick cock as he leaks enough precum to stain his sweats.

“Puppy, stop,” he groans, “we can’t, oh god, you need your meds and Ark—“

“He’s out with friends,” you pout, rocking your hips just right so your clit rubs against the seam of your shorts sending a sharp zing through your body, “and I don’t have any more medicine.”

“You never listen,” he growls and your tail droops.

You let out a surprised squeal when Leon shifts off the couch to press you down into the floor.

“Need me to stuff your pussy, huh?” he bites your ear, making you whimper, “‘m gonna be the only one sniffing around your greedy little cunt.”

Your eyes roll back when he dry humps your pussy, grinding the thick outline of his cock right against your wet slit.

“First I wanna see if you taste as good as you smell,�� he kisses you heatedly before moving down your body.

He slips your shorts off and tosses them across the living room. Leon buries his nose between your legs, sniffing across your soaked panties. The fabric sticks to your chubby pussy lips allowing Leon to lick at your clit easily.

“Oh, oh,” you moan, hands reaching down to tangle in his hair, softly rubbing over his fuzzy ears.

He grunts and laps up the slick leaking down your thighs before pushing your panties to the side to lap at your hole.

“Taste so good,” his muffled voice causes vibrations that make your toes curl, “mmm could eat your little cunt all day.”

“Leon, please,” you hump against his mouth, eyes locked on his blown out gaze.

He hums and the vibrations make your clit tingle as more slick drips onto his tongue. The thick muscle slides in and out of your hole before he licks his way back up to your clit, softly sucking the swollen bud into his mouth. Your thighs tremble as his rough sandpaper tongue swirls around your pudgy clit before sucking it gently.

“So good,” you whimper, thighs falling open as far as they can go while your tail wags, “Leon.”

He growls, tongue fucking your pussy until sloppy wet sounds fill the room. His broad hands grab underneath your knees to shove your legs up to your chest. Pulling back, you moan as he spits on your cunt quickly followed by him burying his face against your soaked pussy. His rough stubble makes you squeal and pant while he licks and sucks your pussy lips.

“So soft and wet, pup,” he grunts, pulling back to finally shed himself of the rest of his clothes.

He strokes his cock to take the edge off and your mouth waters at the precum beading at the tip. With a groan, he notches the tip against your hole and glides the fat head up to smack against your clit. He presses his hips flush against you and you whine, the feel of the blood hot skin of his cock pulsing against your pussy.

“Look how deep it’s gonna reach, pup,” his voice rumbles low in his chest, making your nipples ache.

He uses his thumb to press his tip down against your skin as your bleary eyes take in how far his cock will be inside your needy cunt.

“Oh god, Leon, s’too big,” you mewl, ears lying flat against your skull.

With a warm chuckle, he pulls his cock back to slide across your pudgy bud, grinding the head against your sensitive clit until you’re whining and dripping slick onto the carpet. His cock presses into your pussy making you moan reedily, voice breaking into a gasp.

He chuffs and gently bites the side of your neck, rocking his cock another inch into your clenching hole.

“Pussy’s just small, honey,” he coos softly, sandpaper tongue licking up to the shell of your ear, “gotta stretch her out so you can take my knot.”

Your walls clench down on his dick making his hips stutter. His eyes darken and he pulls completely out.

“How about we make it easier for this soft little cunt?”

Without letting you answer he flips you over into your hands and knees, one palm pressing down in the middle of your back and the other gripping your hip to raise your ass up. He slides in much easier in this position, bottoming out with a loud groan as you claw at the floor.

Mewling, you press your ass backwards, working more of Leon’s thick cock into your dripping pussy.

“Wan’ it,” you slur, nails digging into the plush carpet, “want your knot, Leon.”

He growls and buries his cock to the hilt inside your cunt making you cry out from the sudden stretch. Your walls clamp and pulse around his fat dick while you catch your breath.

“Good girl,” he whispers into your ear, making you shiver all over, “such a good pup for me.”

“Leon,” you whimper, pussy walls fluttering around his thick length as he slowly ruts into you.

He groans and pulls halfway out before bullying his dick back into your sopping wet hole.

“Fuck, you’re perfect,” he bites your shoulder, canines digging into your skin, “perfect pussy, made for me aren’t you, honey?”

“Uh huh,” you gasp out your agreement, voice not wanting to work as Leon pounds your cunt hard enough you’re getting rug burn on your knees.

He grips the base of your tail and pulls, making you scream— pussy fluttering and pulsing around his dick as your orgasm takes you both by surprise.

“Good girl,” he coos, dropping your tail to grip the fat of your ass with both hands, “so good, gripping me so tight with that little pussy, working for that knot like a good pup.”

Shuddering, your body trembles as Leon keeps thrusting his fat cock right against your g-spot as the tip kisses your cervix. Drool spills from your mouth as you heave in deep breaths.

“Want you to cum one more time, pretty girl,” he lightly spanks your ass making you whine, “one more and I’ll knot this pretty pussy til she’s nice and full. Don’t you want that? For your hot cunt to be bred til you’re stuffed to the brim?”

“Please, please, Leon,” you mumble, ass bouncing back against his thrusts, “want your knot, please, want it so bad.”

One of his hands dip below your abdomen to circle the swollen bundle of nerves coated in your slick. Your pussy clamps down on his dick as he softly teases your clit.

“Oh that’s it, right there,” he kisses your neck, tongue lapping against your sweaty skin, “can feel you getting tighter. Cum for me, let me feel it.”

As Leon keeps hammering into your pussy, his fingers circle and tease across your pudgy bud until one last thrust has your orgasm whiting out your vision. Your ears ring so loud you don’t even hear as Leon curses against your neck while he snaps his hips against your ass before burying his cock deep in your spasming pussy.

You wail when his knot locks you together, stretching your cunt even further as you feel his hot thick cum spill inside.

“So good for me,” Leon groans, hands smoothing over your sides and back, “perfect, so fucking perfect.”

You sigh gustily, body going limp as Leon continues to fill your pussy with load after load from his thick cock. He shifts until you’re both able to lay on your sides comfortably, hands petting your body gently.

“Feels nice,” you mumble, relaxing even further against him.

“Good,” he kisses the back of your head, “once I can pull out, wanna run you a bath. Gonna take care of you.”

Preening, you smile although he can’t see it, “That sounds so good.”

It’s quiet and relaxing as you bask in Leon’s soft touches and praise. As soon as he slips out of your sore cunt, he scoops you up into his arms and carries you into the bathroom. Setting you down on the edge of the tub, Leon works the taps and fills it with comfortably warm water.

Once he settles down in the basin, he maneuvers you to sit with your back to his chest. His warm hands rub at your arms and shoulders.

“Let me know if you’re sore anywhere,” he kisses your temple.

His softness is making your clit throb, loving how Leon treats you.

After he works your arms and shoulders, he shifts down to your thighs. You moan low in your throat.

“What if I’m sore here?” You bite your lip and grab one of his hands to shift it to your clit.

He chuckles causing goosebumps down your body.

“Oh? Need this fat pussy rubbed?” he slips his fingers down your slit before circling back up to your clit, “is she really sore, honey?

“So sore,” you mewl, slumping against his chest as he teases across your swollen clit.

It doesn’t take long for his rough fingers to work another orgasm from you, pussy clenching around nothing as your clit throbs underneath his fingertips.

“So fucking good,” he turns your head to kiss you messily, tongue licking into your mouth as spit drips down your chin.

Leon finishes washing you both off before helping you stand, wrapping a fuzzy towel around you before emptying the bath. Feeling extra sleepy, you don’t put up a fuss as Leon guides you into his room. Helping you slip under his covers, you sigh as Leon’s scent surrounds you.

“Goodnight,” he kisses the side of your mouth making you turn and pout your lips for a kiss.

Chuckling, he kisses you gently, running his thumb across one of your ears.

“Goodnight, Leon,” you smile sleepily, snuggling into his chest.

#lipglossanon #lipglossmasterlist #hybrid au #hybrid #hybrid!leon #hybrid!leon s kennedy #dogman!leon #dogman!leon s kennedy #puppy!reader #fem!reader #dogman!leon s kennedy x puppy!reader #leon s kennedy smut #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon x reader

350 notes · View notes

minniesmutt · 2 months

Text

♱ ━━━━━━ 𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋: 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓

♱ ━━━ CONTENT: ORAL [F. REC] FINGERING, MULTIPLE ORGASMS, OVERSTIM, PET NAMES, UNPROTECTED SEX, NIPPLE PLAY, CUM SHOT, CUM EATING/SHARING, AFTERCARE ♱ ━━━ WC: 1.9K ♱ ━━━ PAIRING: HAN X READER ♱ ━━━ 18+ work!! minors and ageless/blank blogs DNI! you will be blocked, put an indicator on your blog somewhere that you are 18+ before interacting with this work/blog ♱ ━━━ a repost from my old blog

After a short nap, Y/n took to unpacking the things she had brought. It was mostly clothing and a few photos but nothing else. Maybe if she asked, one of them would take her shopping.

She heard the elevator ding and peeked her head out of the bedroom. Chan walked out, hands in the pockets of his slacks. Y/n stepped out of the room and met him in the hallway

“How are you settling it?” Chan asked as he wrapped an arm around her

“Fine, the place is a bit bare though,” Y/n told him.

“I’ll have one of the guys take you out shopping tomorrow. I just came by to see how you were settling in and to go over something with you.”

“Oh?”

“Come on,” Chan pulled her into the kitchen. Sitting down at the table he had put in for her and pulling out a stack of paper

“What’s this?” Y/n asked skimming through the words

“Contract. Jist of it says what you’ll be doing as a front and you will be paid for the work you help us with,” Chan stated

“You guys are paying me but you’re also basically paying everything for me?”

“Think of it as fallback money. If something happens to us for any reason or another, for any amount of time, you’re not left with nothing to fall back on, financially that is.”

“How considerate.” Y/n smiled, “I’m assuming there’s another part that talks about sex.”

“Yeah. Every one of us has our own version of this contract. But you're welcome to update anything in it to your comfort level. Most of it goes over what we are into and that every single one of us is clean.” Chan explained

“Well, so am I, guess there really is no point in condoms,” Y/n smiled

“Only to prevent a pregnancy.”

“I’m on birth control. Don't worry about that.”

Chan explained a couple more things; everyone was made aware of using the traffic light system as a safeword— tapping them twice if she was able to talk for whatever reason as a fallback—, aftercare being important to all of them no matter what, promising her safety from anyone outside of them, etc. Y/n read through the papers as she listened to him, making a few adjustments here and there, but mostly agreeing with what everyone wanted. She signed her name where needed and turned the paper back to him. Chan checked everything and made a quick message about changes to the rest of the guys.

“We don’t expect you to memorize anything either. And it doesn't have to be one way, you can ask us for sex too.”

“Thanks, Chan,” Y/n smiled at him

“No need to thank me,” Chan smiled back

“Is there anything else I should know now that I live here?”

“Say goodbye to your privacy,” Chan chuckled

The two laughed for a moment before Chan got called away. Y/n saw him off before going into her living room. They had been kind enough to furnish the apartment for her so that was one thing she didn't have to worry about. She figured she’d do a little online shopping for a bit. Adding things she just thought were pretty to her cart, even if she didn't need them. She’ll find a use for them.

She heard the elevator again and ignored it after looking up for a second, one of the guys came in to see her, something she was quickly getting used to.

“Whatcha doing,” Jisung asked as he joined her on the couch, laying on top of her as she was laid back against the armrest

“Shopping,” Y/n answered as she peered down at him.

“For what?” He asked

“House decorations, clothes, random shit.”

“Doesn’t sound like fun.”

“Well, I was bored and that’s why I started. If you have better ideas, I’m all ears.” Y/n dropped her phone on her chest and looked down at him

“Just keep shopping,” Jisung smirked

Y/n shrugged and picked her phone back up. Scrolling through the website she was on. Jisung pushed her shirt up a bit then pulled her leggings off her legs. Y/n lifted her hips a bit to help him as he adjusted her legs to lay over his shoulders as he came face to face with her clothed cunt.

Y/n peeked down at him before he started kissing down and licking the cloth of her panties. Y/n let out a small moan as he continued teasing her over the fabric. Nonetheless, she kept shopping.

Eventually, he removed the fabric and softly kissed her clit, licking the bud to her entrance. Y/n smiled as she peered down at him. One hand removed itself from her phone and ran her fingers through his hair, gazing back at her screen. Jisung picked up his pace after a few moments until he was eating her like a starved man.

It wasn’t long till the phone and shopping were forgotten. Her hands tangled in his soft locks and her legs threatened to close around his head.

Han hummed against her clit as she gave him a particularly harsh tug. His eyes cast up her body as flicked the little bud. “Fuck Ji,” Y/n moaned

Jisung didn’t dare let up. Playing with her clit and entrance with his tongue. Enjoying the taste of her juices on his lips and dripping down his chin. He just gave a bit more pressure when he sucked on her clit which seemed to do it for her. Hips rutted against his mouth as he licked her clean from her orgasm.

“So fucking good,” He wasn’t letting up. He continued making out with her sensitive clit. Y/n closed her legs around his head as much as she could. Jisung groaned against her cunt, eyes rolling into the back of his head, just from her thighs suffocating him slightly.

He pushed her thighs up after a minute. Putting them to her chest as he kept going.

“Close,” Y/n whimpered as she grabbed the cushions.

“Give me ‘nother,” Ji mumbled against her clit. He pushed one leg over the back of the couch to free up a hand.

Soon he was pushing two fingers into her and matching his pace to the rate he was eating her out

“Fuck!” Y/n cried as her second orgasm hit her.

Ji kept going through her high. Fingers pumping in and out of her as he pulled his hips from her clit and sat up on his knees. “One more doll. Give one more and I’ll give you whatever you want,” Jisung begged as he pulled her other leg over his shoulder and kissed her ankle

“Need your cock,” Y/n whined, legs slightly shaking

“One more baby and I'll give it to ya’.” a third finger pushed into her

“Too much,” Y/n whined as she grabbed his wrist

“Color?”

“Green!” Y/n called as his fingers curled into just the right spot

“You can take it, doll,” Ji smiled

He pushed forward till he had her coming on his fingers. Her body convulsed under him as he pulled his fingers out, watching her juices flow out of her and soak the cushions.

“Good job doll,” Jisung smiled as he leaned down and kissed her forehead.

He gave her a moment to come down and rest. He took off his belt, setting it on the coffee table.

“Where the fuck did you learn to eat pussy that good?” Y/n asked after her mind out of its haze a bit more

“Now why would I tell you?” He smirked as he leaned over her.

“Secrets are hot. You know what's hotter?”

“What?”

“Your dick in me.”

Jisung didn’t waste another second pulling ever fully down onto the couch and unbuttoning his pants and pulling his hard dick out, far too eager to actually take his pants off. Y/n couldn’t help but giggle at his eagerness and worked on unbuttoning his top and pushing it off him as he pumped his cock. He took his hand off his cock to take the white shirt off his body. Her hand replaced his on his cock, pumping him and lining the tip up at her entrance.

Jisung tossed the fabric to the ground before grabbing her hips and pushing into her. Both moaned as they got quickly used to the feeling. Jisung pushed his pants and boxers down more as he let her adjust to him.

“Fuck, move Ji,” Y/n whined

Jisung pushed her t-shirt up over her breast and moved her legs around his waist. He laid his hand on the armrest above her head. He pulled out slowly and thrusted back in quickly. His eyes glanced back and forth from her tits bouncing with his thrusts to her cunt swallowing him.

Y/n was a mess of moans and whines from him going down on her and making her come three times. Her walls were already clenching around him.

“Fucking warm,” Jisung groaned as his hips snapped into her.

Y/n tightened her legs around his waist. One of his hands fell from the armrest to lay next to her body. He lowered himself a bit to kiss between her breasts then sucked on the skin. Y/n ran her hands through his hair as his lips latched onto her nipple. Y/n gripped his hair tighter, clenching it around him.

“Keep clenching around me doll and I’m gonna blow,” his words were muffled against her boob, shifting his ministrations over to the other nipple and giving it the same treatment he gave the other

“Give…me, please.” Y/n whined. Her legs hiked up higher on his waist as she got closer to her next high.

“Got you all dumb on my cock,” Jisung couldn’t help but chuckle at her.

His tip hit right up against her g-spot. She pulled at his hair as her orgasm hit her again. The man above her pulled away from her nipples and gave himself a few more thrusts before pulling out; coming on her lower stomach.

Jisung rested his head on her chest as they both caught their breath. It took a few minutes before Jisung lowered himself down and then looked up at her. Y/n caught his gaze as he licked his cum from her skin. Y/N shivered under the touch of his tongue before he pulled away, bringing his lips back up to hers. His tongue immediately darted into her mouth. Y/n melted as his cum transferred from his tongue to hers.

Ji pulled away after another moment of enjoying her lips. “You could’ve come inside,” Y/n told him

“I’ll keep that in mind for next time.” Jisung smiled.

He stood up from the couch and fully took his pants off. He scooped her up in his arms making her squeak in surprise. Her arms wrapped around his neck as he made his way to her bathroom.

Jisung sat her down before giving her a forehead kiss. He started a warm bath for the both of them before walking out of the room and grabbing their clothes. Y/n took care of herself by the time he came back and checked the water.

“How are you feeling,” Jisung asked as he helped her into the water after he got in.

“Tired,” Y/n sighed, leaning back against him.

Jisung wrapped his arms around her body and kissed her shoulder, “Go to sleep, I’ll take care of you.”

“Thank you, Ji.”

♱ ━━━━━━ ⇤prev| m.list | next⇥

♱ ━━━ please support writers by reblogging and/or leaving feedback

196 notes · View notes

writersmacchiato · 7 months

Text

Todd can’t help the way he feels about you.

You’re kind to him, always nice, so patient. Never getting annoyed when he stumbles over his words or goes quiet as he gets lost in his head trying to think of the best response, forgetting to answer.

It’s why when he overhears your friend teasing you about a crush, his heart instantly sinks to his stomach, feeling sick, because there’s no doubt in his mind that it’s not him.

It could never be someone like Todd who would hold such attention from you.

Things like that didn’t happen to Todd.

He should leave it alone. He should forget he ever heard anything. He should really leave you alone, his senior of one year, and find friends his own age.

But he doesn’t seem to click with anyone else.

He felt desperately like a puppy scorned of any attention when you first smiled at him, all kind angles, nothing malicious in the way you talked to him so nicely.

You’re overcompensating, with your kindness. For all the bad things that have happened to you. You’ve let him into your life, sharing things that not a lot of your friend group knew (not that Todd knew this, to him it was common knowledge). And he’s surprised that your life isn’t perfect.

For all the shitty, horrible, terrible things that have occurred, you’re just as determined to be the opposite. To be a light instead of the darkness that is so easy to succumb to.

“I didn’t have a lot of friends growing up,” you whisper to him one night, sneaking away from the party with your lukewarm drink and his soda that’s beginning to taste flat.

Your head leans against his shoulder and he tries to breathe evenly, to be the perfect shoulder for you.

“I was really lonely. It felt like no matter what I did, I never fit in. People liked me, but no one wanted to be my best friend. So, I guess I never want anyone else to feel like that.”

Todd thinks about that night a lot. The weight of you against him, how the air was crisp, and the scent of your shampoo drifting into his senses.

He wonders if you’ve brought him into your circle out of pity. If you don’t see him as a friend, but as a past version of yourself laden with no friends. If you’re trying to reach into the past and rewrite the story. He doesn’t like to think about it too much because it hurts.

Really, he should try to spend less time thinking about you. But the more he tries to forget, the more he thinks.

He can’t stop thinking about the word crush. His dictionary has been opened to the C section so many times that it has a natural crease there now, flipping to the page as soon as he opens the book.

Crush: a strong but temporary feeling of liking someone.

It could be just a harmless tease from your friend. As far as he knows, there is no one who you could have a crush on. He watches you a lot, and there’s not a lot of people you spend frequent time with outside of your friends and him.

This endless thought that could be nothing that is leading him into a slow descent into obsession. It bothers him.

Someone who could yield your affections must be someone special, worthy of such attention.

But what if it’s not? What if it’s someone who wouldn’t be careful with your heart, wouldn’t take the time to learn the workings of your mind? What if your feelings are not temporary?

Todd loses sleep over it, worry gnawing at the edges of his thoughts until he’s become edgy.

You notice, of course, that Todd will withdraw into himself. With gentle coaxing, he’ll return but sometimes he stays stuck.

Lately he’s been stuck and nothing you’ve done has been able to break through.

He shocks you by finding you in the library, clearly still caught in the webs of his overthinking mind. Appearing normal as he pulls out a textbook and notebook, pen tapping against the palm of his hand.

The words blurt out of his mouth, rushed through in a painful exhale that sounds more breathy than he intended. He hadn't even meant to say that.

“You have a crush?” He asks.

And then stops, breath hitching, heart beginning to race.

He doesn’t want to know. Can’t bear to watch the way your lips form the name of someone who isn’t him.

Instead, you smile at him. Shrugging your arms and sighing.

“Not you too! Everyone is pestering me over it.” You avoid the question, Todd is quick to notice.

“I overheard Meeks.” Todd says.

“He’s such an instigator.” You roll your eyes.

Todd knows you well enough to know that you’ve purposefully not answered him. It brings a small flutter to his chest.

“Do you?”

It’s painful, to dig in and search for an answer that he know will hurt. Rubbing salt into the wound that is his aching heart. But he has to know. It’s like an itch he can’t reach.

“Yes, Todd, I do. Although calling it a crush is silly. It’s much stronger than that.” You say, very quietly.

Or maybe Todd can’t hear you well over the sudden rushing in his ears.

“Oh.” It’s all he can manage.

Crush, is simple and small. Temporary.

Stronger than a crush? Well. That’s not so simple or small.

“Todd, can you look at me?”

He can't. Eyes glued to the floor of the library, feeling his cheeks flush with warmth and his stomach twist into knots. Slippery and hot as he tries to calm the sudden urge to be sick.

You reach out to grab his clammy hands, giving them a firm squeeze. He manages to squeeze back.

“It’s okay, breathe.” You count out the breaths for him until they’re no longer shaky.

His cheeks are still flushed, but not with anxiety. Feeling the sweat on his neck begin to cool. Stomach settling.

“Todd, I really like you. A lot.” You grin. “I have a crush on you.”

“Why me?”

“Because you’re you.”

Todd has another fitful night of sleep, but this time it's because he can't stop thinking about the moment in the library. Flushed with embarrassment, but also with a giddiness. Thinking of what you had said, to him alone and him only:

"I'm infatuated with you, Todd Anderson."

#todd anderson x reader #dead poets society x reader #dps x reader #todd anderson imagine #dead poets society imagine #dps imagine #dps #dead poets society #todd anderson #i dont even know if i like this anymore #but here have some writing!!!!!!!!!!!

360 notes · View notes

helloitstsyu · 9 months

Text

i got you | Tom Cruise

My masterlist

Fluff, kind of an angst too, i guess. Requested by @grantaires-waistcoat I'm so sorry this takes so long. Hope you like it🤍

Tom Cruise x young!costar!reader

Summary : Set to film a stunt, you had a panic attack, and Tom helps you to get through it.

Warning : this might be triggering for some, so beware. panic!attack, swear words.

BUM. BUM. BUM.

"Y/N?... Y/N!" Stella keeps banging the door.

The banging is on the door yet you feel it thumping on your heart. You feel your breath is short and heavy. Your head spinning, sweats dripping on your temples as your chest heaves. Cold water running on your terribly shaking hand, trying to calm yourself, you keep repeating to your reflection on the small mirror.

"It's nothing. You can do this. You've prepared. You can do this."

You look at yourself in the mirror. Your face is pale. You're completely terrified. You're about to hang yourself off a cliff. Yes, you've rehearse a lot. But this is no Rockreaction in Los Angeles. There's no mattress at the bottom. There's no safety net going to catch you if you fall. This is rocky mountainside in Utah. The only thing that'll determine your life and death is the harness that'll be attached on you. One snap of the line, you're gone.

"Arrghh!" You grunt all frustratingly to yourself. "The fuck is wrong with you. Why do i even agreed to this!"

You're a newcomer. You've only done a couple of family drama for some TV station and a thriller movie for a streaming site. There's a couple of stunt for the thriller, but no stunt like Mission Impossible. This is a damn blockbuster, well produced franchise. And the fact that you're here locking yourself inside of a bathroom, being a chicken, while everyone else is ready to shoot the scene is just enhancing your stress for the moment.

"Y/N! What the hell are you doing in there?! Come on, we don't get all day!" Stella, the assistant director keeps banging on your door.

"Coming!" You shout.

Wiping your sweaty forehead, you hope the cold water could cover the spook on your face.

Coming out of the bathroom, you're surprised to find your leading man and boss is on the front of the door. Tom looks at you deeply, reading your face.

"You okay, kid?" Tom asks.

You nod, hiding your nerve all that you can. Going outside of the trailer. Stella brought you to the edge of the cliff, where's the stunt team will prepare you with the safety harness and all. Looking all around you the crew is all busy and occupied with their own stuff. Everyone seems to move so fast but yet also somehow so slow.

Tom comes to you, with a wide grin on his face, "Ready to be a spiderman, kid?" He asks with both of his hands on his hips.

You barely hear what he said, high-pitched sound is ringing in your ear covering what he has to say. Despite the breezy wind blowing around, you feel like you couldn't get an air to your lungs. Eyeing the edge of the cliff, the ground below is not even to your eye reach. You can feel your heartbeating right to your head.

"Kid... you're here?... you okay?" Tom starts to notice you're not doing alright.

Slowly, your eyes are back to Tom's. He worries. "Y/N?" He steps closer to you. And there you finally breaks, in a beat, your legs falls limp as if they didn't work. You fall but Tom's quick to catch you before the impact. You're panting hard, your chest burns. Tears blocking your eyesight. High-pitched sound ringing loudly in your ear, completely blocking everything else. All you see is so bright. The sun behind Tom's face is so bright like it pierces your eyes.

"Y/N... Y/N... look at me, look at me." Tom holds you close.

"I'm right here. It's okay, it's going to be okay.. I'm right here." You hold onto his hand, grasping them in between your two much smaller palm.

"Breathe, come on, breathe with me, kid." Tom calmly tells you, like he knows exactly what to do to help you. He takes your hand and put it to your chest. The other one he brings to his chest. "Breathe.. come on, slowly..."

You can feel your heart pounding in your hand. Yours beat like a marching band while his is set in a calm pace, like a rhythm. You follow his instructions, taking a deep breath slowly, one at a time. Tom nods. "There you go, that's my girl. Come on, one more time," he encourages.

And so you do as he tells, following his lead, you take a deep inhale and slowly exhaling. Once he manage to get you calmer, he takes you back inside the trailer.

Setting you to sit on the couch, he kneels in front of you.

When the panic attack is gone, now you feel the burning tears making its way to flood out. One look of those soft emerald eyes and you can't bear the guilt to get the best of you.

"I--- " you struggle to say it out loud. I'm sorry, is what you want to say. But without you have to say it, Tom knows. Tom understands. More than anyone else, he understands.

"It's okay.." Tom holds your hand.

Though the watergate has opened. Tom quickly wipes your tears away. "It's okay, you don't have to do it. It's alright."

What he said only makes it worse. You're sobbing right in front of the man, tears running like a waterfall. "I'm sorry.. i can't– i can't do it.." you cry. "I don't know what's wrong with me,"

"Oh, sweetheart," Tom sits next to you and pulls you to his chest. He wraps his hand protectively around you. "Nothing is wrong with you. You don't have to be sorry. It's okay, you don't have to do it."

Tom strokes your hair. Caressing you ever so gently, comforting you in the best way possible.

"It's okay... you'll be okay... I got you, babygirl," he whispers.

#tom cruise #tom cruise x reader #tom cruise fanfiction #pete maverick mitchell #tom cruise smut #tom cruise x female reader #pete mitchell x reader #tom cruise fic #top gun maverick #ethan hunt x reader #ethan hunt #ethan hunt fic #daddy x reader

413 notes · View notes

yandere-sins · 10 months

Text

The Orcas’ Tale - Epilogue

Aye, that's the end of Nerrocan's story! I am happy and sad at the same time, I hope this last chapter from his pov will give you guys some of the answers you hoped for, and maybe create more questions that will be solved in the two sidestories with Lyr and Krill! Thank you all for participating in reaching this True End and I hope you guys had fun guessing (even though you always guessed right after the first chapter!) Thank you for all the support and encouragement sent my way throughout the story, and I hope you guys enjoy the last chapter ♥

Fandom: Original Content Pairings: Yandere!Orca Mermen x GN!Reader Warnings: Yandere, Sexual Content (Nerrocan being a bit horny in his thoughts but nothing actually happens, still lots of sex mentions), Violence (Threats, Description of killing others), Monsters, Blood mention, Gun mention, Dub-con touches/kisses, Animalistic behavior, Mention of claws/sharp teeth, Hinting at death, Long post

Mate.

That's the word the humans of this place told me when I asked them about this strange, burning feeling in my chest whenever I looked at you. Bubbles rose from my mouth as I kept saying it over and over, letting the sound of the word roll from my tongue, sweet and exhilarating as it mixed with the images of you I created in my head. Images of you smiling, laughing, sleeping on top of my chest. Your hands wandering, lips kissing, your body beneath mine. Even the dread of being captured, caught in a pool that could never compare to the vastness of the ocean, was no concern of mine when I thought of you, the pain in my body turning into your sweet and soft caresses with my imagination.

In a pod like the one I grew up in, the thought of two merfolks creating their own separate life was not one that was ever considered. Males returned from their breeding spree with other pods, back to theirs, their family, their place of belonging. We'd raise the children of our females, our family staying tight-knit and closed off to outsiders. A male would never bring back a partner to integrate and be the only one they loved. The only one they'd ever desire. It was selfish and wrong and brought risks to the pod, who could get sick or attacked because of the actions of one of their sons and brothers.

But the humans told me it was quite normal for my kind. Not the orcas, the mermaids. Sirens, that's what the humans called us, but they mixed up the description with mermaid ever so often. For fun? For practical uses? I didn't know. I didn't care. I didn't bring you back here, so I'd have to wreck my head around all the weird things you did. I carried you here because I remembered. Remembered others like me—sharks, whales, seals. So many of them, and all of them… happy. Content being held in these large but closed-off bodies of water, attended to by one of the humans in their slick garments and coats. Not at all bothered by the probing, painful experiments done to them as long as they got to rest in the arms of their mates.

I still didn't understand it. But when I thought of you and called you my mate, knowing you were sitting just an arm's length from the edge of my pool, it was more freeing than escaping this facility back when my cousins and I had been captured. It felt right. Natural. It made no sense, but it made everything make sense. And I liked how it felt. I liked how you made me feel. I didn't care much about anything else, neither my past nor my future here, as long as you were with me.

At first, I had been hesitant around you, remembering the pain humans caused us, binding us and forcing us to sleep while they cut us open and injected weird poison into our bodies. I couldn't understand why my pod mates were so inclined to be around you, considering what the humans did to us, but now, it was almost as if I had forgotten their faces already, their actions of no concern to me.

Now I had you.

Swimming up to the edge of the pool, I reached out to you, my hand so easily fitting around your 'ankle'. Your lips quirked into a grin as you continued writing your report, and I slipped my finger below this strange yet comforting tight fabric you wore, tracing my claw along your 'calf'. You taught me all these words, and I didn't want to miss even one of them. I soaked up every vibration of your voice as if it was the calling whistles of my family, wishing to drown in the sounds you gifted me. After all this time, your 'wetsuit' became the most comforting feeling to me, but your skin's warmth was what excited me the most. You were alive; you were safe. I protected you. It's been all I ever wanted.

"When will you finish?" I asked, innocently enough as I found. Once I returned you to this place, you learned not to be so skittish around me, like a little fish hiding between corals whenever I approached you. I always knew I was stronger than you. You were prey where I was the hunter. You were no match to me, had no claws, no fangs, no poison to hurt me. But only when we spent more time out in the ocean and here, did I realize just how scary I was to you. Monstrous, even. You never said it out loud, but the silence whenever I hurt you accidentally while the humans experimented on me was more painful than any of your words could ever be. So I tried to be less like myself and more like you wanted me to be, even if that meant putting my wants and needs beneath yours. It had paid off, no matter the difficulty.

You told me you didn't want to be interrupted while you did your studies, spending more hours leaning over your 'clipboard' than you did in the water with me. I wanted nothing more than to float through my tank with you; cared for nothing but you excitedly telling me about your finds and the strange food you had at the 'cafeteria' that day. Naturally, yours won over my wants, but being so close yet so far away from you was hard. If not for your skin getting 'pruney' and your body being so unsuitable to the water I needed, I'd have kept you in my arms all day—where you belonged.

"I'm almost done."

Almost. I hated that word. I wanted you now. In my arms, kissing the air into your lungs while I pinned you to the sandy floor of this pool. I learned a lot about myself after coming here, and one thing was: I wasn't a very patient male. Even when I needed to be, to make you, my mate, like me more, I couldn't banish these thoughts I had about you. They were partially influenced by my needs and wants, partly by the other humans who told me those cravings were natural. I needed to have you close, breathe your air, hear your voice, taste your lips to survive all of this. I wanted to be around you all the time, barely able to rest whenever you hid from me in your little 'cabin' next to my pool, closing the door that I didn't fit through and kept me outside. But I was wiser now than when I first had been captured. I knew I could make demands when I complied with the things these other humans wanted to do to me. They'd build me a home like the underwater cave, where I could live with you, nothing separating us and you having to rely on me to get in and out from. It would be our cave. A love nest.

Letting myself slide back in the water, I pondered the wonders I'd been promised, my cock aching with need when I thought about making a family with you. Where I came from, there was no such thing as nesting and spending uninterrupted time mating with a partner. The thought of being tangled with you in our cave, covering you in my marks as you accepted my cock inside your warmth, was nothing short of breathing life back into me and testing my patience at the same time. We had yet to introduce the idea to you, but the other humans told me they'd make sure you'd finally accept the mate bond once they talked to you. So far, you called yourself my 'caretaker', and while I didn't dislike how it proclaimed me as yours, I wished you'd finally accept me as your mate like I had you. After all, it was me who was taking care of you—like I promised.

I said I'd protect you, and though the experiments on my body hurt, I'd be happy as long as I got to be with you in return. And be with you I did, especially now that you put the clipboard away, your attention shifting to me.

Immediately, I pushed out of the water and onto the metal grids spreading over parts of my tank so the humans could walk comfortably over my pool. You smiled softly as you scooted closer to the edge—closer to me—smelling like the sterile 'alcohol' everyone seemed to apply to their skin, but also of me, which I ensured by rubbing myself against you every chance I got. In the big ocean, you wouldn't notice the scent mark of another creature. You'd bite and carve your possession in clear view for others. But here, with everyone having a mate, the scentings were loud and clear. I, too, couldn't let any other creature here be mistaken about who you belonged to, even though they were all equally busy marking their own mates in the same way.

I let you cup my face in your tiny hands, palms so small they could barely hold my cheeks, but it didn't repulse me. Unless I kept you in the water with me, your hands were warm and soft, your heartbeat pulsing so vigorously just below your thumb. Your touch could make anything better, be it the anxiety of being apart from you or the prodding needles and knifes cutting into me. As long as you were with me, there was nothing I couldn't endure. I just knew it. I knew it from the moment I tore the sharks limb from limb for daring to threaten you, ripping their hearts out for having the audacity to touch what was mine.

Wrapping my arms around your body, you chuckled as I drew you close, burying my head into your stomach and chest. Your heartbeat was my favorite sound, but the giggles almost sounded like purrs when I pressed my ear to your body. The differences between us were great, but I still found similarities if only I was given the time to look for them. I still didn't trust the humans and didn't have to like them. But I trusted you, and I did what I had to do to be with you.

"Are you done now?" I mumbled, your hand combing through my hair while I nuzzled into you. You often brushed your hands through the strands, watched them float in the water, and played with them. It gave me a great feeling of satisfaction knowing you liked my hair. Liked me. We were simply meant for each other, considering how much I liked you too.

"I am. Thank you for waiting," you confirmed, patting my head. My heart leapt at the gesture, so starved from only being allowed to watch you. I tightened my arms around you, ready to pull you into my tank and considering not letting you leave tonight. But before I could take you for a swim, your fingers clawed into my upper arms, and the dreadful screeching of the metal door leading out of my territory forced me to halt.

"Professor!" you greeted the person entering our space uninvited, rudely interrupting my already limited time with you. I couldn't help but snarl at the man in the white coat, the very same one that had threatened you with death the first time you met him, the thought making me bare my teeth at him. I didn't have to like anyone of the other humans, but there was nothing to like about him in the first place for any of us.

Anguish spread through me as you slipped out of my hold, getting to your 'feet' to greet the Professor. Disgruntled and shunned by you, I sank back into the water, watching the unnecessary closeness you two had developed over the last few weeks. Water splashed between your sets of feet as I couldn't help but thrash my tail, reminding the Professor to stay away from my mate. But it only caused you to whip around, hissing, "Nerrocan!" to remind me of my 'manners'. I knew he didn't fear me, and I knew I could easily kill him. But for the humans, he was in a position like Krill's mother had been to me. A leader. Someone they followed and trusted with decisions. Compared to my 'aunt', however, this male deserved none of my trust and loyalty. He neither earned it nor was I inclined to trust anything he said. He was faker than the sand at the bottom of the ocean.

"I've come to collect the research data from the last round of testing. Do you happen to have it on hand already?" he asked you, ignoring me and my attempts to signal him to stay away completely. Annoyed, bordering on mad, I had to watch as you retrieved your clipboard, humming thoughtfully as you went through the papers sticking to it before shaking your head.

"I had them here somewhere, I swear! I must have accidentally left them in my room. Please wait a moment, I'll go and get them for you!"

With that, you quickly moved away, opening the door to your cabin and disappearing behind it. I was tempted to swim after you, already pushing my body in the direction of where you went and further into the pool, when the male called out to me.

"So, how are you finding your life here, Nerrocan?"

I could feel the growl building in my chest as he used my name so freely to annoy me. I'd have preferred it had he not addressed me at all, considering I was not up to chitchatting with anyone else but you—especially not with him.

"I take it you've gotten used to this place then," he monologued, looking up from your clipboard after reading your report. "We are delighted to have you, you know? Orcas have been eluding us for a long time, and the samples we've gotten from you have proven very successful for our research. I just wish we had another one here... You don't think one of your friends might want to join us?"

"They won't come," I snapped back instantly, already feeling like biting the Professor's throat out after this brief exchange. Human speech was hard enough to understand, but even I could tell his words were embellished attacks. He was nothing but greedy and had wanted me to spill the location of my pod from the very beginning. Whenever they did something to my body and my mind was hazy and unfocused, he'd take advantage and ask about the others and where to find them. Apparently, their 'trackers' were too old or broken to find my pod, but I wouldn't tell him their whereabouts, even though he was just as impatient as me.

And no one would come, that much I was sure of.

I only realized it after coming back to this facility, but the others didn't remember. Not like I did, at least. What happened to their bodies either forced them to forget about this place and the way back here, or they were trying to forget to stay sane—at least Krill. Lyr had definitely changed after what they did to him. It had been a slow shift at first, his changes barely apparent. But as of late, something in him just… snapped. I didn't know the reason, but he seemed out of his mind most days without him even noticing. But I was pretty sure it was because of one of the experiments. And Krill seemed to pretend everything was fine for a while. We got away, and, once we returned to the pod, 'nothing happened'. But he must have realized it too that the three of us were clearly not the same anymore. That none of us could participate in the normal life in the pod, we were forced into again after our experience.

But at least that meant they wouldn't come here. They wouldn't have to suffer again like I did.

The Professor's eyes narrowed, his expression telling despite him thinking he was unreadable. In reality, he hated being challenged. He didn't want to be questioned; he didn't want anyone to defy him. He was weak. A weak human male that could not deal with not being the most powerful in the room. And none of our kind—be it shark, seal, orca—had proven that point to him yet if only for the sake of their mates.

"You know, I'm surprised you brought your mate here," he suddenly said, his features sharpening after not getting the information he wanted from me. "There would have been a public beach just further north from here, barely half a day of swimming. Undoubtedly, you knew that?"

There it was again, an attack hidden beneath innocent questions. But this time, I couldn't help but dip lower into the pool, hide in the safety of my water, and consider leaving him standing there by himself. Then again, I couldn't trust him with you. You'd return any second now, and he had one of these 'guns' under his coat that could hurt you if I wasn't present to intervene. So I kept watching him, suspicious of his every move.

"It's like…" he mused, bringing one hand to his face and tapping his chin thoughtfully. "Almost like you wanted to trap them here. After all, we wouldn't have let you and your friends go either had you not put up a fight and slipped from us. Perhaps you thought your mate wouldn't be able to leave you if you brought them here. That they'd need you like you need them, could that be it? You did it all while knowing they'd be imprisoned here with you and become unhappy, didn't you?"

A hideous, fake smile crossed his features, and it was almost enough to make me leap for him and tear his head from his shoulders. How dare he made such assumptions?! I'd have found great pleasure in crushing his skull and tearing that grin apart. "What do you know?" I hissed instead, baring my teeth.

Humans didn't feel the mate bond. That's the first painful thing I learned here. A human male would never understand the suffocating feeling of being apart from his mate. He wouldn't know the fear and panic of letting them get out of your reach and how much any type of your mate's rejection hurt. How your mate's pain is your pain, just ten times as bad. On land, it would have only been a matter of time until I could no longer follow you. As big as the ocean was, the land reached far and wide, and it was I who was no longer suitable when it came to traverse it. He talked about your unhappiness, but you were allowed to study lifeforms you found interesting. You were protected by me and could pursue your interest without leaving me behind. Not being allowed to leave this place was the small price you had to pay in all of this. Smaller than what I had to endure for you.

I did what you wanted. I brought you here as you asked me to. Back then, I didn't know how much my life had changed with you in it, but when they talked about having to kill you after we entered this place, there was no question about whether I'd protect you or not. And keeping you here with me was the only way to keep you safe. By staying here with you, I was keeping you alive, no matter what they did to me. Who cared if I remembered how these humans didn't want to let us sirens go the first time I ended up here? Remembered how many humans we had to kill and how many more of our kind we sacrificed to get out? This human male wouldn't understand, but I did. I sacrificed a lot to return here and stay with you, and I saw no fault in my decision to do what my mate wanted me to.

"It's better this way. For both of us," I growled, and he let out a brief chuckle, amusement flashing over his features.

"If that's what you want to believe," he said dismissively, his eyes crossing over the pool to the door to your cabin. Immediately, I felt the alert to his focus shifting, forcing me to swim over to that side so that, whatever may happen, I'd be the first to get to you. But to my surprise, the Professor raised his hands and shook his head dismissively of my worries.

"I won't tell your mate what we just talked about. In fact, it's better they don't learn that their subject forced them into being imprisoned here despite knowing this would happen. They seem to enjoy their work, and they do it well enough. As long as you play nice and let us get our samples from you, we won't have a reason to come between you two. But you already know that, right?"

He was back to grinning like the mad human he was, taking pleasure in the suffering of others. I hated that he had once again attacked me with his words, defeating me in this fight. The Professor had explained to me before that he wouldn't want me to be unhappy and dissatisfied by taking my mate from me. But if I wanted to be with you, I had to do what they asked of me without harming anyone else. My actions may have 'imprisoned' you here, as the Professor liked to call it, but you weren't alone in this. In fact, I was sure we weren't the only ones in this kind of predicament. After all, there were countless other pairs stuck in this facility—willingly or unwillingly.

"I got them!" your beautiful voice rang out as you exited your resting place. I tore away from the Professor, swimming over to you and chirping softly, gaining a smile from you. I'd never do anything to harm this lovely smile of yours. I wanted to keep it directed at me for all our lives.

Even if that meant playing the Professor's games and agreeing to his deals.

You handed him a stack of papers before kneeling beside me, brushing over my head as I rose high enough on the platform to protect you. Your touch was soothing and reassuring, but I didn't let my eyes stray from the male beside you, hoping he'd finally leave us alone now that he had what he had come for. I wanted you for myself, but he was taking his time studying the results.

He only briefly glanced from the papers you gave him to me, a grin flashing behind his hand raised to his face in contemplation. It was an oath of silence, one I couldn't trust but had to be content with. I'd not get more than that from him. All he offered was forcing me to believe he'd keep his fake promises. If anyone was going to tell you, it should have been me, even if I felt undeserving of the accusation that I did something to harm you. But humans wouldn't understand. My mate wouldn't understand. So you certainly were better off never learning about this conversation.

"All exceptional results! Thank you for your hard work!" he finally exclaimed. Immediately some of the tension stiffening your body vanished, and you let out your breath, smiling at him.

"Any time, Professor!"

After shaking his hand goodbye, the older male finally left for the door. But not without throwing me another glance and a knowing smile before vanishing behind the screeching metal. Immediately, I shifted my focus back to you, not wanting to spare a second of my time dreading this encounter as much as I did while it was happening. I had better things to do, more important ones. This time I'd let no one interrupt us.

"W-Wait, Nerrocan!" your words were stricken with infectious laughter, curling my lips into a grin as well. You couldn't even react to how fast I had picked you up by the waist and plunged you into the depths of my tank with me. Finding your lips even through all the bubbles we two caused, my gills flared, allowing your lungs to fill with my air as I slipped my tongue into your tiny, delicate mouth. Your taste was the sweetest poison on this planet, intoxicating and making me desperate for more.

But your initial gentle hold on my shoulders turned rigid, being underwater still uncomfortable for you despite feeling so right for me. I already knew you had problems with prolonged stays beneath the surface after we traveled below it for days, and though I regretted leaving the only place that was truly safe to me, I did what was best for you, sliding my tail between your legs so you'd have a surface to sit on once we breached the water.

You inhaled sharply as you tore from my lips, coughing up some water that had slipped between us despite me making sure to lodge my tongue deeply where it belonged. Truth be told, I wanted more than this from you. I want to sink you to the bottom of the ocean where you'd have to cling to me for air, wrap your legs around me, and opened yourself up to my cock so I could breed you properly. Mate you, as they called it here. Claim and fill you with my seed until you were fully satiated with my spill. All while I'd get to drown in every kiss you gave and listen to your raised heartbeat every time I spread your hole with my cock. Then, you'd finally be mine, body and soul, unable to deny the mate bond any longer and give yourself to me completely until all my seed had been drained from my painfully aching cock.

If only it were the right time for that.

We'd need our love nest first and the other humans' talk, explaining why it was imperative you let me mate you. I needed the safety of a cover and to be left alone with you before I could bring myself to take you fully. Nowhere in this facility was safe, and I wouldn't allow you to be vulnerable to anyone else but me. I wanted to keep protecting you, even though I was considering abandoning all these precautions for my need to sink my burning desire into you, marking you beyond rubbing my scent off on you. I hated having to wait, but at least I still had my time with you.

Holding you by the waist, I supported you, letting you regain your strength and focus. I listened to the moment you inhaled deeply and freely again, another beautiful sound, even if I liked you breathing the air from my lungs more. "Sorry…" I mumbled, not being sorry for putting you into the position you belonged. Trapped against me in a heated kiss, our bodies barely separated by the thin layer of fabric you wore. But I was sorry for you being so uncomfortable in the water, despite me being there, taking care of you.

"All good," you mumbled, waving off my apology and smiling kindly at me instead. You had changed a lot, too, especially after spending so much time with me. I was thankful for every bit of understanding from you, bringing us closer together and forming the unity of our mate bond, even if you had yet to realize it. Floating through the pool with you on top of me was my favorite evening activity, the stars twinkling above us, despite only being visible at a few spots in the ceiling, through thick windows. Almost. It was almost like being outdoors with you again, free and alone, somewhere out in the ocean.

"Do you miss being outside?" you suddenly asked, and my eyes fell back on you. You had gotten more comfortable on top of me, tugging in a leg of yours while the other drifted through the water next to my body. You had followed my gaze to the round glass windows above me, guessing what I must be thinking about.

"Yes," I answered honestly, no need to hide the truth. Between staying here in this strange, imprisoning place with you and being back in the ocean with you, I'd have chosen the sea without a second thought. Both places were dangerous, and both had their sets of risks. But I was going to protect you either way, here or there. The only place we could not go together was the land you longed for—terribly so.

"Me too," you whispered after a brief silence, staring wistfully at the stars above. I slowed my movements, coming to a halt beneath such a window, allowing you not to twist your neck to see them better. "I wish we weren't stuck here. I wish you could be out there and be free, not having to go through these experiments that hurt you so much. But…”

"It's not possible," I finished the sentence for you as your voice trailed off. "Would you like me to break us out of here?"

You gave a short laugh, finally lowering your gaze back to me. Your eyes shone brighter than any star above could. Both the night sky and the water below us were things I loved, but they didn't compare to you, couldn't even scratch at your beauty. They only added to your charm but were never able to overtake it. If I had to choose between them and you, I'd still choose you. I'd always choose you.

"That's not something we should be thinking about, Nerrocan," you mumbled, your voice losing its usual loveliness, the sound turning sourly, the shine in your eyes dimming. You wanted to say "yes" badly; I could see that. Human language was difficult, but reading your kind less so. You often said things you didn't mean to please others, even me on occasion, instantly regretting your words despite trying to hide your feelings behind smiles. You and I both wanted to leave, but you thought it was too dangerous. You thought it was something even I couldn't handle, especially not alone. That you'd be a burden rather than my drive to fulfill your wish, and ultimately, I'd leave you behind to die. After all this time, you still thought so little of me.

I wanted your dreams to come true. I really did.

But I held myself back despite that.

"It's not so bad here that we'd need to leave. We get good food every day and are safe from others. Besides, I get to hang out with you every day! It's not that bad, right?"

Your words made me happy, but they were conveniently woven lies. It was so easy to lie for you humans, be it for your own sake or others'. My kind would speak their mind without a second thought, but humans calculated their words carefully. Life here was awful, and you knew it. These people here did their horrible experiments on us sirens, sometimes lasting hours at a time, and their mates had to watch, some getting hurt in the action. As if that wasn't enough, they'd force the mates to write long reports and watch their broken, depressed, hurt sirens, forcing them to comply by actively involving them in the process. As the professor said, no one was allowed to leave, and the choice of where to go was limited to the places open to you and my tank for me. The people behind this place tried to hide how little they truly cared about us by making the pools more enjoyable for the sirens and their mates and making promises to provide and ensure the safety of the inhabitants of this place. I did trap you here, didn't I?

Was I a selfish mate after all? Did I only bring you here for my own sake?

If so, what made me so different from the humans I despised?

"Yes," I lied. "Life here is not so bad."

I had you, at least. That's all that mattered to me.

You smiled, but it seemed discouraged and sad. Perhaps because you knew I had imitated you with your lying. I was sure you wanted me to fight, to get us out of here and give you the freedom you desired. But the truth was that you didn't ask it of me, and I didn't want to let you go. Because our freedoms could never align with each other. Mine was in the ocean, and yours on land. Only here did we find a place where we could be together. Only here could I be with you forever, even if it meant we'd never be truly free.

You leaned down, laying on my chest as you thought about all the thoughts you'd never let me hear. What you truly felt and wanted, but held yourself back, not wanting to be selfish or endanger us. Not knowing I was just as selfish as you were.

I wrapped you in my arms, holding you and giving you all the comfort I could offer. If not this place, then at least I could be home to you. If you told me, I could be what you needed me to, and maybe one day, you would speak about what you wanted so I could act on them if they seemed right to me. But I could do all these things and more that would make you forget and free you of the burden that you put on yourself by being considerate and having to make decisions for us—right here. Just like I decided to come here and agree with the terms of the Professor in exchange for keeping you with me, I could do them for you. Once you made up your mind to agree to our mate bond, I'd make you forget all the bad thoughts you were having. The pain and despair. Instead, I'd drown you in pleasure and fulfillment as my mate. We'd both be finally content with where we were and not worry so much about the consequences of our decision.

"I'm glad you're here at least," you mumbled, not allowing me to see your face. Read from it if you meant what you said or not. But regardless, it made my heart swell with affection for my little mate, my cock aching as it reminded me of my natural instincts.

The day I'd make you completely mine couldn't come fast enough. You'd never be alone as I'd always be with you, my marks claiming you as mine, be it bite marks or spill dripping from your holes. You'd never have to face anything on your own again as I'd take care of you, protect you, and ensure no more suffering for you to endure like I had always promised. Whatever the future held for us, I'd get us through it, even if you didn't think me capable of it now. Once I mated you, you'd learn to have more confidence in me, seeing how well I can satisfy you. I just needed to prove myself to you again and again until you'd accept me completely.

"I am glad, too," I confessed, meaning it, hoping you could feel the sincerity in my voice.

Together, we drifted through the pool in circles for a long time in silence, the soft rippling in the water and your breathing the only sounds echoing around us, stars twinkling in a gentle greeting when we looked up at them. I wanted this moment to never end, for your body to never be pried from mine. I dreamed about the whole universe revolving only around us with no one to disturb this togetherness, no worries bothering our peace. Our world, free of pain and expectations, of lies and sadness. Just you, in my arms, with nothing keeping us apart. Together until the waters would take our bodies for our eternal rest.

And I knew I'd make this dream of mine come true, no matter what I had to do. No matter the suffering and pain I had to endure; the many more times you'd give me a gaze full of sadness, wanting to leave this place. Even if the Professor kept threatening me, I'd not let anyone take you from me, would not let my mate get hurt, or be forced into more sadness. I'd make everything better. I knew I could make it all better.

Because I belonged with you, and in return, you were mine.

Trapped with me for all eternity.

My! Seems like you made it! I believed in you all this time!

Or did you?

Love is such a tricky emotion, like the tides that draw from the beach, only to return quicker than humans realize, trapping them. You can never be sure when these unassuming waters come for your life; the same goes for love.

Maybe you'd have wanted to try something other than this, but is it truly the worst outcome you could have wished for? Did you not want to be loved so dearly that someone would risk their life for you? Or was there something else you'd have rather achieved with your journey?

I am pleased you followed my instructions, but I can see it in your eyes; there's still so much you haven't experienced yet. Who knows, maybe I can help you with that! I'd be glad to show you what happened to the other two orcas you were caught up with or what would have happened had you made a different choice on your adventure, but for now, this is goodbye.

I hope you will find happiness in that new life of yours, so far from my ocean. I'm afraid not even I can help you escape from where you ended up. But who knows? Maybe you'll come to like it there.

Just like everyone else.

435 notes · View notes

pedgito · 2 years

Note

okay but reader edging eddie until he’s basically in tears begging?? i know you’ll do it perfectly i’m on my knees asking for it

author’s note: EDGING!!! it’s literally my biggest weakness and i know eddie loves that shit, you can’t change my mind. i hope this isn’t too terrible lol

cw: 18+ (minors dni), orgasm denial/delay (edging), oral (f receiving), handjobs, desperate and begging eddie, dry humping (sort of), eddie kink shaming himself out of embarrassment (reader is super reassuring), if i missed anything lmk!

word count: 2.2k

“Have you really never—“ Eddie stares at you with a skeptical look, “Shit, am I actually that weird?”

The absurdity of the question makes you laugh, wondering why Eddie felt the need to psychoanalyze his own kinks and preferences all the sudden, both of you bare naked and pressed against one another. If there was any other time to talk about, now was definitely not it. But, Eddie was stuck on it and it wasn’t going to end until he reached his conclusion.

“I haven’t, not to myself,” You explain carefully, finger pointing at your chest, “—I mean, I haven’t to anyone else either, to be clear. But, I know what it is. It’s not weird.”

“You think so?” Eddie asks, tilting his head slightly as he squeezed at your waist.

“It’s just delaying orgasm.” You laugh softly, the idea creeping up on you suddenly, “Do you—do you want me to try it with you?”

Eddie nods eagerly, hair bouncing over his shoulders, “I guess it’s not different than when we watch each other anyways—“

“Oh, no,” You interrupt, hoping to clarify, “I meant me edging you.”

“Huh,” Eddie huffs, eyes widening slightly, piercing into you deeply—Eddie was always so remarkably expressive, both in his face and his actions, “uh, yeah—yeah we can do that.”

Eddie’s adamant about taking care of you first, insisting he would take his time and he meant it. He’s soft, but sure in his touches, gentle traces of fingertips along the inside of thighs, over the soft pudge of your belly, using his grip to spread your thighs wide and breath in the smell of your arousal, mouthing at your cunt teasingly, featherlight licks through your folds until it’s nearly unbearable—it’s torture, but you wouldn’t expect anything else, not with the way Eddie cherished you so deeply. He was always afraid he was going to lose you—not that you could ever leave him, but he’s never managed to have any stability in his life outside of his uncle and had to deal with everyone always wanting to run in the opposite direction of wherever he was. He was a disease to the town of Hawkins, a constant stain on their otherwise perfect image, and you couldn’t believe it. Eddie was nothing that everyone said he was—vile, disgusting, rooted in evil.

The only thing Eddie had to offer was love—deep love, for everyone he cared about in his life, and it showed.

When he brings you to a slow orgasm, fingers drifting in his hair to pull at the strands in earnest, you cry out a broken moan as he overstimulates your already sensitive clit, before leaning away to press a quick kiss to the inside of your thigh, smiling against the skin.

Eddie moves slowly after that, crawling his way up toward his pillow until he can plop himself down on the mattress. You’re in the middle of pulling your underwear back up when he shifts, trying desperately to get comfortable. You smile to yourself, hurrying to finish pulling the garment back on before curling up against his side, his shoulder pressed into your chest and his head leaning heavily against the wall as he propped himself up slightly.

“You seem nervous.” You note, teasing him slightly.

“I just—I usually get kind of,” Eddie tries to find the right words to not sound so embarrassed, but he has to be truthful, “loud, I guess.”

“Eddie, baby,” You laugh softly, “that’s not a secret.”

Still, you can see his worry and try to soothe it.

“Don’t hold back, seriously.” You assure him, “I want this to be good for you—and I’ll stop if it gets too intense or you’re not into it anymore.”

Eddie nods slowly—he knew the playing field was level, there was never any type of power dynamic that needed to be fought between you two, it was equal give and take. A mutual assurance that both of you felt good and enjoyed yourselves as much as possible. Eddie was a better lover than he cared to admit.

“Do you still have that small bottle of lube?” You ask, breaking his stupor as he stared over at you. His face tenses for a moment in thought before he suddenly remembers, swinging his body over yours briefly to rummage in his bedside table until he finds the tiny bottle and tosses it into your hand wordlessly. “It’s just—the friction and all.”

“No, I get it.” Eddie laughs knowingly, having been on the wrong side of too many dry handies from himself in desperation, before he figured out what felt good, rather than just crudely trying to deal with the problem.

You do him the favor of warming it up in your hand briefly, his eyes watching intently as you move, rubbing it briefly with careful fingers before taking his already half-hard cock in your hands. It’s a simple touch, nothing to drive him crazy, but the wetness is slightly jarring and makes him wonder just how long he can hold off.

You’ve learned Eddie inside and out, all the small touches that drive him crazy, the little nuisances in the faces and noises he makes when he feels that pit in his stomach growing, pleasure settling deep in his groin and his balls tightening up as it nears, his face scrunching up in concentration. You save him the torture of being too agonizingly slow, squeezing him with a solid enough pressure that has him groaning out into the silence of the trailer, his upright positing faltering slightly as his head hits the pillow.

“Oh fuck,” Eddie sighs and if that’s any indication, you’re not sure how much longer he has left, “maybe—maybe a little less.”

You loosen your grip slightly, still keeping at the same steady pace as before and Eddie’s face relaxing, a subtle nod of appreciation as he shifts back up slightly, glancing up at you briefly before staring down at his cock, delicate fingers wrapped around the length of him. He should feel slightly offended that you’re so good at this, better than him even, but he can’t focus on any of that right now, your hand speeding up gradually as his hands grip for the sheets, his toned thighs tensing and struggling to keep still as his hips bucked into your hand out of pure instinct, not realizing he was even doing it until he feels that heat grow at the base of him and then you’re letting go of him completely, hand moving to rest gently against his thigh.

“Did I time it right?” You ask softly, squeezing gently where your hand rested.

Eddie nods dumbly, still fighting off the urge to come like this, untouched by you.

“Again?”

“Please?” Eddie begs, shifting to rest his palms behind him until he’s leaning up fully, head thrown back in an effort to not look at you or himself, knowing it would push him over that edge quickly.

His voice is soft when he speaks, pleading—it’s a contrast from his usual showy attitude and crass dirty talk, always finding ways to make you blush until your face runs hot, giving you no other choice but to close your eyes and look away, too overwhelmed by his heated gaze. But, it was his turn now and he was just as bad, only a lot more vocal about it.

Eddie alternates between deep, forceful groans when you squeeze just a little too much, to long, drawn out moans as you pull up his shaft, squeezing at the tip and letting your thumb rub over the slit there, spreading around the mess he’d already made of himself just from almost getting there, the slick of precome overtaking the need for any lube or spit. You keep at that for a few seconds—torturous and dreadful for Eddie, but enjoyable for you as you turn to look at him, his mouth hung open in a choked off gasp, eyes shut tight.

When he finally finds the energy to open his eyes, they immediately lock onto yours, and Eddie’s never looked more wrecked or shameful, eyes pleading for relief but you know he can take—it’s what he wants and he can always hit the brakes whenever he needs to, but you knew that wouldn’t happen.

“Tell me when.” You order him softly, squeezing gently at the base of his dick before starting a rough pace, nothing that Eddie’s prepared for as he groans loudly, the weight of him falling into you weakly, using what little concentration he had to pull your face toward him, his lips ghosting over your own, his breath breeching your own lips as he hissed, that initial feeling hitting him quickly.

“Fuck, stop—stop.” Eddie grunts out, pulling your hand away weakly, his dick twitching at the sudden lack of stimulation—his face is flusher than before, breath labored as tries to focus through the lingering ache, letting you lick slowly into his mouth, tongue tracing against his top lip teasingly.

It goes on for another fifteen minutes, slow and languid strokes to keep him teetering on the edge, enough that he can catch his breath and still talk through it, murmuring soft praises toward you despite how well he’s doing himself—he can’t help but compliment you, it’s like a second nature.

“God, so pretty—so fuckin’ perfect, sweetheart.” He says, voice strained. You smile with a hint of something, daring him to look away.

“I want you to watch,” You tell him, voice steady, “and no matter how bad you want to come, you’re gonna hold off.”

Eddie nods in understanding, letting you guide his face by the chin until he can look down, fingers wrapping around the length of him carefully, even a simple touch was enough to have him taking in a sharp intake of air.

You try not to feel bad about the whole thing, but Eddie thrashing and struggling to hold back beside you is enough to spur you even further into it, working him up the point of him not even making sense, groaning out unintelligible words as you keep up the same rhythm of tugging, waiting for him to give you that sign, and then letting him go completely.

Eddie’s never been so worked up in his entire life, on the verge of tears, mouth falling open in a broken sob.

“Oh fuck,” He curses, “Please, please, please—“

It’s the only thing his futile brain can come up with in the moment, begging and willing to do just about anything if it meant he could finally get some release.

“Are you calling it?” You ask with a soft laugh and despite the obvious welling of tears in his eyes, he laughs too.

Eddie nods furiously, hands clenching and unclenching at his sides as his hips bucked up into your fist, “Yes—yes, please, I can’t—“

“Can’t take it?”

“It hurts,” Eddie whines, “Feels so fuckin’ good but I need to come, baby please—“

He can’t even form a full sentence, a mess of broken sobs and pleading words as he looks up at you with wide eyed innocence.

“I just—let me touch you?” Eddie begs, his hand reaching up to push your arm away with not much resistance on your end.

Eddie maneuvers you easily, hands tucked under your thighs as he switches positions, shifting until he’s laying over you and his aching cock pressed up against the soft cotton of your underwear, the only barrier keeping him from slipping inside and ending all his suffering. He doesn’t even think about that, rutting into you with a desperation you’ve never seen before, hands touching whatever he could find until they settle on your face, face pulled taut until he catches your eyes and he’s done for, collapsing and burying himself in the crook of your neck, making a mess of himself and you in the same instance, coming with a deep, drawn out groan. It’s so intense that it aches, even in the aftermath as he catches his breath, feeling like his stomach was in knots.

Eddie releases a long, shaky sigh against your skin, his hand coming down to rub tenderly at the line of your jaw.

“—Good?” You ask hopefully, not sure of his expectations in comparison with his own experiences. Eddie only catches the tail end of your question, until you finally speak again, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah—yeah, I’m fine.” Eddie assures you, his voice sounding unnaturally raw, “Gotta catch my breath, sorry.”

You give him a moment, rubbing your fingers through the soft ringlets of curls, pushing his bangs away from his forehead where they were stuck from sweat, his eyes shut in exhaustion. Eddie laughs suddenly, giddy despite his evident exhaustion.

“I’m a horrible person for enjoying that so much,” Eddie says, blush filling his face in embarrassment, “aren’t I?”

You shake your head gently, humming a quiet, “Mmm, no.”

Eddie doesn’t know why he feels so ashamed, but it’s never bothered you—his openness with his sexuality and the things he’s enjoyed—and you hate that he still feels constant shame about certain things.

“Besides, you sound so cute when you beg.” You tease, earning a nose scrunching face of disgust from Eddie at the word.

“Cute?” Eddie asks, “Not me, sweetheart. That’s impossible.”

You nod challengingly, leaning up into Eddie’s space as he pulls away slightly, grabbing his discarded shirt to clean up the mess, “Sorry, I meant adorable.”

Eddie doesn’t argue, but allows himself the final word.

“That’s right,” Eddie smiles, leaning over to press a quick kiss against your forehead, mumbling against the skin, “and don’t you forget it.”

#eddie munson smut #eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #my writing #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson blurb #1kfic

2K notes · View notes

imarvelatthestars · 2 months

Text

Appetite

Pairings: established Wrecker x f!Reader

Content: smut; sex pollen; semi-public making out & getting caught, actual sex happens behind closed doors; p in v, no protection, oral (f receiving), fingering, pillow talk

Notes: this was mostly written like a full year ago during season 2 + I was inspired by these fics by @moodymisty & @boozeandbaddecisions

If there's one sound you love in the universe above all else, it's the sound of Wrecker's laugh, the one that comes from the depths of his belly and makes him throw his head back and his shoulders shake. The sound of the Marauder's engines soaring overhead is a very close second, though. By the time you guesstimate that the ship's docked and the crew is unloading, you're already out the door and rushing for the downtown hub as fast as you can go.

Your comm starts chirping about halfway there.

"Yeah?"

"Guess who's back?" Wrecker's deep, rumbling voice runs right through you and you can't help the shiver that starts between your shoulders. Maker, you missed him.

But you're grinning into your comm when you reply. "Is it my favorite person in the great big galaxy?"

"Ha! Ya got that right!"

"Tell Omega I said hi, then."

You can almost picture his expression - mouth agape, shocked, maybe just a tiny bit offended, but tickled all the same as you can tell when he starts chuckling. You're almost at Cid's by now and your heart is working triple time. You keep switching between speed walking, jogging, and borderline skipping, you're so excited to see him, but the result has you struggling to breathe with any sense of normalcy and it's obvious when you speak.

"Why're ya so outta breath?" he asks and you're not sure if you're making up the sudden gravelly weight to his voice or not. Surely he's always sounded that rich and deep? "Excited ta see me?"

He still gives you flutterbys, even after all these months of dating. He still makes your tummy feel all fuzzy and your heart out of rhythm and your brain so happy that you want to shout it from the rooftops.

"Maybe just a little," you huff. "I'm almost there. Where are you?"

The comm crackles and goes silent. You turn the corner and start down the alleyway to Cid's when the door hisses open and Wrecker steps outside. He has to duck under the lip of the doorjam to avoid hitting his head and it's silly, but it makes you feel all bubbly inside. It's somewhere between endearing and attractive that he's just that big. His shoulder armor makes him look even wider than he really is. The way it catches the light, the way he stands there, big and broad and handsome and yours.

His smile goes a little crooked and his good eye, you swear it looks darker than usual when he watches you. "Right here, babe."

Yeah, you got it bad.

You practically launch yourself into his waiting, open arms, throwing your own around his neck and nuzzling into the side of his neck as much as you can with his armor in the way. Wrecker sweeps you off your feet like it's nothing, but instead of twirling the pair of you around like he always does, he rests one hand across the expanse of your back and uses the other to guide your thigh up around his hip. It's the kind of intimacy he usually saves for behind closed doors, but you'd be a fool to question it. All that matters right now is him.

"I missed you," you murmur against his skin. "So much."

Electricity shoots up your spine as you find your other leg being slowly guided to wrap around his waist. His hands are roaming, pressing, kneading, searching for something that makes the flutter-bys in your stomach go haywire all over again.

"Wreck-"

A big, wet kiss lands right on your lips, but it's warm, sloppy, urgent, a far cry from the usual chaste kisses he gifts you in public. Things start adding up in the back of your mind as a hand settles under your rear to properly support you and the other curves around the nape of your neck. His tongue laves out across yours, licks along the rim of your mouth, all while he grumbles and grunts and sighs so hot and heavy into you that it leaves you feeling dizzy.

"Missed you more," he says with his forehead pressed to yours.

You nod dumbly. "I... I see that."

"Been waitin' ta touch ya all day." Wrecker's hands are careful and disciplined. He knows exactly how to use them for delicate matters, both on and off the battlefield. So when he presses his fingers into your hips and drops you down so your crotch rubs against his, digs you into his codpiece, you know it's on purpose. "Couldn't stop thinkin' 'bout ya."

Fuck, he wants you that bad? The alley sort of spins around you.

Your breath comes stuttering out of you when your hips are guided against his again. "Wreck." His mouth is leaving cool, wet trails up and down your neck. "Fuck, babe, we should get a room."

He shakes his head. "Can't wait."

Teeth graze over your pulse point and the hand on your ass squeezes, and suddenly you feel your back pressed against something hard, then your head. Then Wrecker's hand shoots out to brace himself against that hard something as his hips rock into you and you realize that he's pinned you against the alley wall.

"You're so pretty," he whispers. "You gonna let me touch ya?"

You're on the verge of snapping. You're a hairsbreadth away from throwing caution to the wind and saying 'yes', begging him to fuck you against the wall of Cid's bar until you can't even remember how to speak, because the fact that he's so desperate for you has your brain short-circuiting.

Your eyes flutter open and closed a couple times when a particularly strong wave of arousal washes over you. "Right here?" You can barely get the words out. "People might see-"

He growls, thrusts hard enough to painfully dig your hips against the wall, but your startled yelp gets swallowed by the hazy look in his eye and the smoky "Let 'em" that burns in his throat.

Some desperate variation of "please for the Maker's sake, just fuck me already" is on the tip of your tongue when the bar door opens. Wrecker doesn't even look away, too busy staring at you all slack jawed to care, but you do. And your stomach drops in the worst possible way because the entire batch is standing there. Tech is readjusting his goggles as he assesses the situation. He seems both surprised and unbothered. Echo's head has fallen into his hand where he's rubbing at his temples. Hunter, though, looks horrified, absolutely frozen in terror.

You smack Wrecker's chest, push him back as he moves to grind on you again, but he's not listening. And that's not like him at all.

"Wrecker, stop!"

That does the trick. He blinks and frowns and finally pulls away a bit. "What?"

You can't stop staring at Hunter and he can't stop staring at you. He looks like he's about ready to drop. And then, somehow, it gets worse.

Omega looks up at her brother, brow all furrowed and her finger tapping at her mouth. "Um, what's Wrecker and Auntie-"

"Nothing." You've never heard Hunter squeak before. He's also never looked at you or Wrecker like he wants to seriously maim you, so it's all kind of new territory. "They were... hugging."

Your legs drop from around Wrecker's waist and he moves to stand slightly behind you as you both turn to face the group. He's looking everywhere but at them, scratching at his face and his neck and shifting from foot to the other, and you really wish that the ground would just open up and swallow you whole because this is truly the worst thing that's ever happened to you.

Omega wrinkles her nose. "I've never seen a hug like that before."

Tech raises a finger just before he opens his mouth and you've never wanted to hit someone more than you do right now. "That is because-"

"Because nothing," Echo snaps, acting as if he didn't just smack his brother in the gut to keep him from finishing his sentence. "They were just heading back to your aunt's flat. Weren't they?"

When you nod affirmatively, you almost hurt yourself with how much force is behind it. "Y-Yeah. Yeah, c'mon, Wreck." The big guy barely moves when you grab at his arm and try to lead him away. "We'll see you later. Probably. Just. Um, yeah. My place. Let's go."

The next few minutes are a bit of a blur as you try to urge Wrecker to follow you out of the alley and onto the main street. You can feel the batch's eyes on you as you go, you can feel your heartbeat in your fingertips, and you can feel Wrecker become more and more withdrawn with each passing second. Even after Cid's place is far behind you, he remains silent with his head bowed and his face crumpled.

Something's off. He always listens to you when you're intimate, he's always so aware of your comfort and pleasure, always asking before doing, so the fact that you could barely snap him out of it at the bar is strange. On its own, you might think that he's just in a funk or maybe really in his head, but then you think about how he touched you before you got caught. He would have taken you in that alley in a heartbeat and apart from his brothers, he probably wouldn't have even cared who saw. And you don't fully know why, but there's a feeling caught behind your sternum that tells you he's not himself right now. Somehow...

"Wreck?" He's not looking at you when you finally find the courage to toss a glance his way. The line of his jaw has gone more rigid than normal and his shoulders and arms are more tense than you've ever seen them. "Hun? What is it?"

He doesn't answer. Your stomach starts to sink.

"Wrecker?"

He grunts this time, but nothing else.

Your hand shoots out and pulls on his arm hard enough to make his entire torso jolt. "Talk to me," you start, but you barely get the sentence out before he's stalking forward. He's basically ignoring you now. "Wrecker. Wrecker!" You actually have to jog to catch up with him. "What the hell? What are you doing?"

His response is pushed out through gritted teeth. "Goin' back ta your place." It's only now that you see his hands have balled into trembling fists.

Something is very, very not right, you're sure of it now.

"Baby, please, talk to me. What's wrong? Is it because of the boys? I promise they're not actually angry with us, I think we just startled them. And... Omega will be okay. I don't think she actually saw an-"

The air goes cold when Wrecker suddenly turns and steps into you, crowding into you so you have to crane your head back as far as it'll go to see him properly. "Don't talk 'bout my vode right now." The vein in his jaw is ticking. "I don't... don't wanna think 'bout them right now."

"Why?"

There's a moment of calm where the wind sighs between the nearby buildings and the sun shines soft, warm light on the crown of your head, and then the world is tilting upside down and your head is spinning and you can't quite figure out how you got yourself flung over Wrecker's shoulder like a sack of summer tubers.

His name comes giggling out of you, half startled, half flustered. Then his hand drifts up the back of your thigh and rubs a very conspicuous pattern into the swell of your ass.

"Gonna finish what I started in that alley," he growls.

There's something about the fact that you seem to weigh nothing to him, how easily he manhandled you over his shoulder that has your stomach twisting into knots. Whatever's gotten into him has apparently rewired his brain so all he's thinking about is sex. It shouldn't be as hot as it is. It should be a little concerning. You should be questioning him more than you are, trying to figure out if he's okay, but... then you think about how he cornered you at the bar and dragged his codpiece against you and your head is reeling all over again. Fuck, you want him so bad. You want him to finish what he started. And every jostle of his shoulder armor into your lower stomach is only spurring you on.

By the time you reach your flat, your body's gone hot. It's not enough that you feel feverish, but you definitely want out of your clothes as soon as possible. For more reasons than one.

The main door chimes open, then you're getting hauled up the stairs, elevator be damned. Your keypad beeps a couple times when Wreck enters in the wrong code, but he figures it out a moment later. The world ducks down as he passes under the frame.

You start to open your mouth. 'My room,' you want to say. 'Want you so bad. Take your amor off. Touch me.' You never quite get the chance.

Instead of heading for your room, he pivots toward the dinner table and starts swiping things off. Your data pad thunks on the floor, papers and pens are everywhere, something fragile makes a cracking sound, and then you're flopping down hard onto the wood.

"Wrecker!" you yelp. The base of your skull is starting to throb a bit. And as you gaze up at him, limbs akimbo and body too hot, he starts ripping off his codpiece. "What's gotten into you?"

His hands go to your thighs and spread you open as far as you'll go. " 's all I can think about," he grunts as he starts tearing at your bottoms. "Wanna feel ya, bury myself in your pretty little cunt."

Oh, fucking Maker, if he keeps talking like that, you're gonna make a mess. Your eyes are already rolling back as it is.

"Don't know why I want ya so bad. 's like I'll die if I can't have ya."

He fists two halves of your bottoms and pulls, and your clothes rip right down the middle. His name comes shrieking out of you again as he does the same to your underthings. You're trying to scold him for ruining some of your nicest things when his thumb runs over your clit, shooting sparks and white hot pleasure through every nerve in your body, and then it slips inside you and you swear you ascend to another reality for the briefest of moments.

There's a glint to his eye now that you've never seen before, like he's lost whatever patient, careful part of him that usually keeps him in check. Right now he looks like he's going to devour you. His face is all hard lines and furrowed brows and pure hunger.

Your clothes are still half hanging off your knees when he dips down tongue first and takes a taste of you. You don't scream, but Maker help you, if he keeps doing what he's doing, you might actually have to.

Wrecker's always been clever with his hands. And his tongue. He's always known how to make a mess of you, how to use his desire for everything you might possibly give him and turn it into an act of devotion between your legs, but this? This is different. This is beyond desperate, beyond devotion. This is pure and honest lust of the kind you've never seen him act on. Is it bad it just makes you wetter for him?

He moves suddenly and his hand shifts so he's hitting you from a different angle, and the entire universe blinks out of existence for a single moment stretched out for an eternity. Your throat pricks painfully and your eyes squeeze shut as you realize you're the one screaming, the one coming all over the table, all over his face.

You're still trembling, still haven't even recovered or finished when he retreats and starts tugging the waistband of his blacks down. He doesn't stop to whisper sweet nothings, he doesn't pause to offer you a taste of yourself. Instead, he spreads your thighs again, hands splayed out across the backs of your knees, and quickly slicks himself with your arousal before finally pushing into you with that same desperate, hungry expression. In a daze, you reach down to spread your lips a bit for him and suddenly he's fully sheathed in your heat, his head knocking so deep and hard against that fucking spot that you almost come a second time.

Maybe you do, you're not entirely sure. All you can tell is that your body is shaking and he feels so, so good, you never want him to stop, you never want to be apart from him, you only need his cock, his hands, his mouth, any part of you he's willing to give and you'll take it all.

He's looming over you now, teeth bared and rutting into you as if his life depends on it. The edges of his armor dig into your thighs and somehow that makes it all even more erotic, knowing that he couldn't wait to be inside you, knowing that his armor is going to smell like you, that this big fucking hunk of a man has chosen you, wants you above anyone else.

"Say my name," he begs as your thighs shake around him. "Gotta... gotta hear you."

You can't breathe, can't think. Everything is hot and wet and rough. The world could be crumbling around you and all you would know is the pleasure of his cock stretching you open and the vulgar squelching of your cunt as he hits home again and again.

Your voice is wrecked. You can barely get his name out between your whimpers and moans and half-swallowed shrieks.

Wrecker puts a hand on your collarbone, his fingers stretching from the hollow of your throat to the back of your shoulder. His eyes are barely open. "Again."

You're fucking close.

"Wrecker."

His grimace turns into a smile into a shudder and the hand at your collarbone shifts, grips the curve of your shoulder and pushes you down onto him. "My... my girl," he pants. "All mine... That's it, that's... fuck."

Electricity goes sparking up your spine as he starts bucking his hips faster, harder. His words fade away until they're nonsensical, punctuated with stuttered swears and guttural moans of your name, of "please" and "yeah" and "almost".

And he tears another rush of pleasure from you, makes you keen and cry and beg for more until words lose their meaning and the only thing you can feel, the only thing you can think about, is him, inside you, on top of you, panting and rutting and taking everything he desires, over and over again.

The sun has long since set and the moon risen high above Ord Mantell when you finally get the answer to your unspoken question. (You were, after all, a little too busy being fucked within an inch of your life to ask it.) Wreck's comm chirps and then Tech's voice flares to life in the quiet of your bedroom.

"I believe you may have been doused with the pollen of a particularly volatile plant on our last mission. Have you experienced any-"

"Aw, Tech, who cares? I'm fine."

Your elbow nudges against his ribs. "Let him talk," you chide. "I want to hear."

The rolling of his eyes isn't visible, but you can practically hear it. He relents, though. For you. One of his arms falls snugly around your shoulders so he can pull you closer. "Alright, fine. G'head."

A kiss is pressed to your temple.

"Thank you. As I was saying, based on your earlier behavior at Cid's, I believe you may be experiencing other side effects. Is your libido heightened?"

Wrecker complains so loudly that you fear he'll wake the whole city. But he's not the only one. You can just make out the sound of either Hunter's frantic, "Really? In front of the kid?", which only serves to send you into a fit of giggles. Poor Omega.

Sex pollen. That's the diagnosis Tech finally settles on, and it makes sense, really. It does. But it's also kriffing hilarious.

"You should get high off sex pollen more often," you tell your lover as he leans down to kiss you again.

He grunts in a noncommittal sort of way. "I dunno." He shakes his head. "I could've hurt ya."

And that, more than anything, makes your heart completely melt. Through the darkened expanse of your room, your hand finds his cheek and pulls to keep him close. "Is that what you're worried about?"

"Yeah," he replies, and it's a soft and tender thing.

"You could never. I know you. I trust you. And..." You swallow a little nervously, suddenly shy in the face of your honesty. "I liked it. Feeling like, like you had to have me or you'd just kinda lose it? It was hot."

It's clear the admission takes him by surprise, but you're at a serious disadvantage - without any light to study him by, you can't read his expression and see how he really feels.

"I mean, I was mostly kidding about the pollen thing," you admit when the room stays silent for a beat too long. "I always think you're hot, hun. I love sex with you. I didn't mean that I don't, I just. You kept making me come and kept touching me, and it was so..." All of that is true, but it feels like the wrong thing to say. Suddenly, finding your voice feels like the hardest thing in the world. "You didn't hurt me, Wreck. You made me feel like the most important, most desirable woman alive. You made me feel things I didn't even know I could feel. I don't even know how many times I came, but it was good. I... I hope you don't regret it."

You almost wonder if he does, if he wishes he'd never cornered you in that alley. But then... A hand reaches for yours, his thumb rubs circles into the meat of your palm, and you feel the warmth of his breath on your cheek.

"You're sure?"

"I promise."

The pillow rustles under the weight of his head. "I... I did like it. Seein' ya all fucked out."

It's embarrassing how immediately your body reacts to him. He's hardly touching you and you've already been fucked senseless, but still your stomach is flaring to life with arousal at this one simple admission.

"Yeah?"

You ask it as innocently as possible, but Wrecker's smart. He knows you. Probably too well, at this point.

"Heh. Yeah, I did." The pillow rustles again, then the sheets, and then he's kissing you, lazy and clumsy and sweet. "Wouldn't mind seein' ya like that again."

Arms brace around his neck and broad, strong hands find the dips in your waist, and another dozen kisses are shared. Then another dozen. And another.

The pollen seems to have worked its way out of his system, but that doesn't mean his appetite is fully sated. That doesn't happen until the wee hours of the morning, long after he's pried every ounce of your pleasure from you, left you lingering on his tongue like a delicacy only he can afford.

taglist: @moodymisty @wolffegirlsunite @the-rain-on-kamino @arandomnerdsblog578

#wrecker x reader #wrecker x you #tbb wrecker x you #tbb wrecker x reader #wrecker tbb #wrecker #star wars #x reader

127 notes · View notes

lfghughes · 11 months

Note

from the same anon who asked for the jealous tkachuk :))

would love to see Quinn in a similar situation. He seems to be such a calm and collected person, I wonder how he would be jealous / in a situation where he needed to protect his girlfriend.

a/n: a big thank you for requesting this one too because quinny ugh my heart !!

warning: alcohol, fighting

Quinn was typically the calm and collected one. You’ve watched enough games of his to know that he didn’t put up with anything and you’ve seen his fights during games but outside of that he was just…Quinn. He was sweet and to himself. You would probably describe him as a go with the flow kind of guy. That was one of the things you loved about him. The fact that he would get irritated by your endless talking but he was still sweet about it.

Even now as you two were on vacation with his two brothers, you saw the fights the three of them would get in and the occasional playful wrestling matches but nothing could have prepared you for what happened later that night.

You’re not sure whose idea it was but it was decided you were all going out together with a group of their friends. They were all excited because the summer was here and everyone was finally able to get together for a night out. You were all surrounding the bar, a drink in your hand and Quinn was next to you sipping a beer and talking to Zegras. Or maybe you should say Zegras was talking his ear off and Quinn was listening and being polite.

“One of these dudes your boyfriend?” Some guy popped himself down in a stool next to you, leaning a little too close for comfort. “Uh yeah…” You mumbled, shifting in your seat as he looked at the crowd. “Let me guess, the pretty boy over there?” He nodded his head towards Jack. “Everything cool here?” You heard Quinns voice as he moved in closer, clearly he had ditched the conversation with Zegras the minute this guy had come over.

“Oh don’t tell me this dude is the one. You could do so much better.” He scoffed, clearly drunk and annoying. At this point Jack and some of the other boys had quieted down, Jack specifically watching his brother and seeing if he needed to step in. “I think it’s better if you get on out of here.” A clear warning from Quinn and you knew this could potentially turn ugly real quick. “Or what dude? A guy like you doesn’t know how to handle a girl like this.”

Jack moved in between, reading the situation clearly but Quinn pushed him out of the way. “Talk about her one more time and I’ll make sure you shut up.” The guy immediately got up from his seat and this time both you and Jack got in between. Jack pushing the dude back as you went to Quinn. “Babe, babe listen he is not worth it. Come on, let’s go home.”

You continued pushing him back until he finally turned around. There was silence for most of the way home and even when you got there and had changed into one of Quinns t-shirts to sleep in, he was still too quiet for your own liking. Climbing into his lap, you felt his arms instinctively go around you and you knew he wasn’t mad at you and that he was just upset from the situation.

“Talk to me, what are you feeling?” You asked, pressing a kiss to his forehead as he leaned his chin on your shoulder. “He’s right. You could do so much better but when he said those things I hated the idea of you with someone else.” You immediately shook your head at him “Shh, don’t. I love you Quinn and we deserve each other. I love you and you don’t ever have to worry about that changing.”

#quinn hughes fic #quinn hughes blurb #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes

355 notes · View notes

deathbecomesthem · 1 month

Text

Crawling to the Finish | Part 2 | 5K

Eddie Munson x Fem!Disabled!Reader

*This is a completed series that is queued and will be released on the dates below. This Masterlist will be updated with each part that is released.

+18 ONLY | MDNI

Warnings: There will be lots of descriptions of medical stuff. The reader is physically disabled due to an undefined accident. Major bone trauma. Lots of talk about pain. Later parts are going to have smut, because disabled people have sex like everyone else. *This part describes disordered eating due to pain.*

Summary: You have to go back to school while still recovering from surgery. Principal Higgins is determined to make you as comfortable as possible, so he assigns someone to help you get around.

A/N: The physical disability described in this series are my own. The experiences are very close to what my own. Be kind.

---

You were drifting through life, the unsteady ocean of the things out of your control set your course. It was something you’ve learned how to deal with. Take things as they come, adjust, go with the flow, let the waves move you how they wanted. But, when the pain is bad, it sets your teeth on edge, and you hate being that person. Mean. Angry. Bitter. It’s not who you are, but it’s how you are right now. You were just waiting. Because, despite the hope in your mother’s eyes, you knew that this last surgery would do nothing to fix you. It was just something to add to the chart so Dr. Greene could say he had tried it all before giving an 18 year a total hip replacement. They don’t last forever, and then he’ll have to deal with a patient needing revision at a too young age.

The bright spot these days comes in the form of a group of nerdy boys. Every day, you sit with them at lunch. It’s your safe spot. No one bothers you, you can just sit and be quiet without feeling like you need to do anything. The boys never say anything about how little you eat. Dustin occasionally looks at you with knowing eyes, and he’s always quick to offer up anything you might like as a treat. Food is hard most days, everything turns to cement in your mouth as you chew, and it never sits right in your stomach.

If you’re being completely honest with yourself, the highest points of your days are in the few minutes before each class when you move through the empty halls with Eddie by your side. Your friendship has come about easily. He’s so open to you. He asks questions. He stops talking when you tell him you need quiet without making you feel unkind. He tells you about his band and his club. Then one day, he tells you something that blows you away, because you feel like you were really starting to know him, and you never would have guessed.

“Well, you know, school’s not exactly my strong suit. I’m pretty sure I’m destined to be stuck in this building until I’m old and gray.” You’d been telling him about how determined you were to get your diploma, even if it meant you had to drag your body across the stage to get it. His statement confused you, though.

“What do you mean? You might not graduate?” You’re legitimately confused. “Why not?”

“Oh, Ilene, this is my third senior year.” You’re standing outside of your English class, the bell still 2 minutes away from ringing. These conversations were really one big conversation broken up into little intervals throughout the day. “If I can manage to pass English this time, there’s a chance I’ll be able to walk that stage.” His words hang in the air for a moment while you digest them and try to make sense of them.

You’re annoyed. Almost angry. How the actual fuck – “Eddie, that’s bullshit.” His eyebrows shoot up so high, they’re lost under his fringe. Your tone tells him that you think his excuses are bullshit. “Come on, are you telling me you can’t do that work, because I’m telling you, you’ve got a brain in there.” You tap the side of his head a little harder than was necessary.

“I’m telling you, I’ve managed to fuck it up two years in a row –“ he’s getting a little hot with you, annoyed for being called out, “- and I’m trying, but it’s hard.”

Today’s a better day for you, so you find yourself able to bite back the truly harsh remarks that sometimes spill out of your mouth. You let the silence sit for another moment and think about what it’s been like for him, how he’s been treated by his teachers and how he doesn’t have the kind of support at home that would help him get through a tough time. The bell rings and brings your thoughts back to the Eddie that’s at your side. You look and see his features are a little pained by your words, so you try to make it right before he takes off for his own class.

“Hey, you’re right, I don’t know how it’s been for you.” He’s following behind you while you make your way to your desk, only the two of you in the classroom at the moment. “Why don’t you come over a couple of times a week and we can be study buddies?”

Eddie drops your bookbag at your feet. He takes your hand, as he does multiple times a day to help you get yourself situated at your desk, and holds on to your crutches for you. This routine just sort of happened naturally, but right now it strikes you how comfortable you’ve become with his hands helping you. It’s so unlike you to be so accepting of help.

Before he can take his hand away and leave, you give it a squeeze, drawing his gaze to your face. “I’m serious, I’d like having someone around when I do my homework. It might help us both to just have someone else working next to us.”

A couple of people started making their way through the door, a signal that he has to bust his ass across the building, “I’ll see you in 45 minutes.” There’s a little sink in your stomach, worry at upsetting him, but he gives your own hand a little squeeze before he lets go.

---

Eddie doesn’t bring up your offer for the rest of the day, leaving you feeling a little bit deflated. You pushed too hard, and you regret it. Never once has he done anything to make you feel bad about yourself, and you let your mouth run away the first time he’s a tiny bit vulnerable with you. But, as with everything in life, you let those feelings float on, letting them go.

On the Monday of week 5 post surgery, the pain has ebbed into a constant and familiar ache. You eat enough to keep yourself upright. Your sleep is fragmented, waking frequently to adjust the pillow that rests under your left hip.

Your incision is healed, you’ve always been a quick healer - except for that one joint. The one that keeps you from being a normal teenager. The one that keeps you too thin and gives you dark circles under your eyes.

When you find yourself sinking deeper and deeper into the realm of self-pity, you let yourself remember. Because, this recovery is simple compared to a full body cast, a bed pan, hair washed in the bathroom sink, a baby monitor set next to you at night at the age of 14. This is nothing. And you’re inching closer to the thing you want more than anything. A new lease on life through your next surgery.

Today, though, you’re getting dressed, putting on makeup, and feeling better than you have in a long time. You’re looking forward to seeing your boys. To seeing your Eddie. You try not think about him when you pull out the curling iron and work your hair into a cute half updo. You try not to think about which lip gloss he would prefer as you rummage through the drawers of your vanity. You definitely avoid the thought of him seeing your ass in the form fitting black jeans you feel like you can tolerate rubbing against the still tender scars that run down your outer thigh and lower waist. Nope. Not thinking about that.

Eddie’s leaning against the hood of his van when you pull into the parking lot this morning. He’s been arriving early since last week so he can be there to escort you into the building first thing each day. This morning your stomach leaps into your throat as you watch him flick his cigarette butt into the grass at the edge of the lot. Friday was the first day you’d really noticed how pretty his eyes are, really looked at how full his lips are. It was a revelation you weren’t expecting. As much as you wish you could just push the feelings away, you know it’s not possible. You’ve noticed him, no going back now.

“Excuse me sir, can you point me in the direction of an errand boy to hire for the day? I can’t possibly be expected to carry my own things around all day.” You’ve pulled your car up next to Eddie with your window rolled down. You let your eyes travel up and down his body to assess him with exaggeration, “You might be sufficient. Do you have any references?”

“There’s this one girl, she’s kind of a pain in the ass, but I’m sure she’d be willing to write me a letter of recommendation.” His head is tilted to the side and he’s wearing a grin that shows off his pretty dimples. “What kind of compensation do you offer?”

“The pleasure of my company.” You give him a big smile and a flutter of your lashes before you pull in to the spot next to him. He makes his way to your car, reaching into the back seat for your crutches before offering his hand to help you out.

“Oh, I think I might take that offer, but I have one request.” He’s answering you try to find your balance. Once you’re upright, he reaches across the front seat to grab your bookbag for you. “How do you feel about adding in some study time this week to sweeten the deal?”

You’ve crutched a couple of steps while he closes your car door for you, but you stop after he makes his request to cock your head and squint your eyes. He’s got that fucking smile on his face again.

“Oh, sure. Follow me home tonight, we can do some work at my house, ok?” Eddie nods and you’re both kind of just looking back and forth at each other while you make your way to the big doors that lead into the school.

“You look really pretty today, by the way.” It’s a casual statement that a friend would make to another friend, but you can feel the heat rising up your chest, and your stomach feels like it’s on fire.

You can’t help but do the thing you always do when you feel like you’re in a corner. You joke.

“Stop flirting with me. I know the crutches are irresistible, but you’re gonna have to try to resist.”

And you think he’ll leave it at that. So, you crutch your way down the still quiet hallway, but he just can’t stop himself. A couple of steps behind you, he says just loud enough for you to hear, “It’s not the crutches I’m thinking about from this angle, Ilene.”

---

That’s how the flirtation started, with Eddie not so subtlety checking out your ass at 7:30 on a Monday morning. It went on like this for the rest of the week. On Wednesday, you sat next to Dustin at lunch. His positivity was contagious, and you found you cared deeply for the kid. He always knew how to talk, or not talk, to you.

“So, Eddie tells me you’ve been helping him study.” You’ve been making eyes at Eddie from across the table. Eddie’s been coming over to your house for a couple of hours the last two afternoons, and you’ve started helping him work on his English paper. After talking him through what some of his issues have been, you offer to be his scribe. It’s working really well, you writing his words.

“Uh, yeah. It’s been nice having him around.” You finally drag your eyes away from Eddie to meet Dustin’s face and he’s practically glowing.

“Oh, good. You guys are, uh, really hitting it off, huh?” Your eyes roll a little and you flick the back of his hands with your fingers in a playful admonishment.

“Stop. It’s not like that.”

Dustin shrugs a little, still radiant with pleasure at all of the possibilities he has running rampant through his head.

“Hey, when do you see your doctor? It’s next week, right?”

“Yep.” It’s all you can manage. Your anxiety was starting to build at the thought of it.

“How soon do you expect to have your surgery?” You had told Dustin about the prospect of a hip replacement. He was enthusiastic, understanding it would be the ticket to a more independent life.

“As soon as he’ll schedule it. Realistically? Probably in a month. I think I’ve convinced my mom that it’s definitely happening, but you know, parents are always worried.” Dustin knew. He definitely knew.

“Well, I’m excited for you.” His big smile does a lot to settle your anxiety. His support means so much to you. “I’m sure Eddie will be excited too.” He wiggles his eyebrows at you.

“Dustin, I swear to god.” You shake your head and look back to see Eddie smirking at your obvious annoyance with his favorite kid.

---

“So, tell me about Eddie.” Your mom sat at the kitchen table and sorted through the mail while you got yourself situated on the recliner. You’d been sleeping in it all week, it holds your body in all of the right places. It’s the only place you can fully relax, even if it’s only for a couple of hours at a time.

“You met him, you already know about him.” It’s Friday, the first afternoon that you’ve returned from school without the metalhead following closely behind. His band is practicing, but he offered to come over after to watch a movie later.

“Yeah, he’s a good kid, I like him.” She rips open one of the envelopes and scans the page. A medical bill. You can tell from the resigned sigh that leaves her mouth. “I was just wondering if anything’s been going on between you two yet.”

“We’re just friends, mom.” It doesn’t even sound convincing to your own ears.

“Of course your friends. He’s the reason I don’t worry about you when you leave the house. But I’m not blind.” She doesn’t say anymore, she just gets up and digs her check book out of her purse before dropping back into the seat and continuing the depressing job of draining her bank account.

“Oh, uh, Eddie’s coming over at 7 to watch a movie if that’s ok.” Your attempt at sounding casual fails, and you know it because you’re mom barks out a laugh.

“Eddie’s always welcome, you don’t have to ask. ‘Just friends.’” She does air quotes at you, and you lay your head back to try to nap before Eddie heads over.

The next thing you know, there’s a hand on your arm and you smell pizza? Your groggy eyes are trying to open, the hand on your arm is lifting and you hear his voice, as if from a distance.

“Maybe I should go. I don’t want to wake her if she needs to sleep.” His voice is soft, and you wonder who he’s talking about. Wait, he’s talking about me. Because I’m asleep.

“No, I promise, she’ll never forgive me if I let her sleep through your visit.” You hear footsteps moving towards you, and there’s another smaller hand with a firmer grip on your arm. “Sweetie, Eddie’s here to see you. He brought over some pizza. Wanna wake up?”

Your feel like your eyelids weigh a ton, but you finally get them open enough to see your mom and Eddie standing over you, looking at you. Eddie looks concerned, his fingers at his mouth playing with his bottom lip.

“Hey, Buddy.” You croak out and give him a sleepy smile, and you can see him visibly relax. Your mom gives him a pat on the shoulder before she leaves the room. “Thanks for coming over, Eddie.” You start moving to get up, and he puts his hands out to stop you.

“Hey, no, it’s ok, stay there.” But you’re shaking your head, you had to get up and move around to get the blood flowing.

“I’m fine, I can’t stay in this chair anymore or I won’t sleep at all tonight.” Eddie’s quick to offer his arm to you, and warmth starts to stir inside of you. His leather jacket is thrown over a chair in the kitchen. This is the first time you’ve had your hands on his bare arm, and his skin feel so warm under your fingers.

“Where’d you get the pizza, Ed?” You put your arm around his shoulder, letting him help you to the kitchen without the aid of your crutches. His hair smells clean, like maybe he took a shower before coming over. You let your fingers brush across the ends of his hair to see if it’s still damp. It is.

“Uh, I went to Gino’s. Is that ok?” He turns his head to face you, and he’s so close. You notice his eyes drifting between your eyes and your mouth while you’re hopping the last few feet before resting on one of the cloth covered chairs at the octagonal table.

“It’s great. Thank you.” As soon as your ass hits the chair, he’s moving in a flurry. Getting you something to drink, plating some pizza, frenetic movements around the kitchen.

He finally sits with you after grabbing a plate for himself. This is the moment. This is when you know it. You let your foot rest next to his, your sock covered toes rub the top of his foot just a little, and he’s all smiles. This is good. He returns your gesture with a little toe rub of his own, and you let the greasy cheesy pizza fill your stomach while you play footsie with the pretty boy sitting next to you.

Eddie brought over the movie he’d been talking about all week, insisting you should watch it. LadyHawke. You know it’s not anywhere near what you’d consider watching normally, but his excitement was worth it. Also, the thought of sitting in a dark room with him sitting close to him made your whole body tingle.

You stood at in front of the couch, looking down at it, trying to decide what would work the best. Eddie stood there, looking a little confused, probably wondering why you were staring at a piece of furniture with such concentration.

“So, uh, do you need help, or…” He’s filling the silence with anything, and you’ve decided to just tell him the truth.

“I’m thinking about how I can be comfortable on this couch while also not being too obvious about wanting you to be close to me.” You keep looking at the couch, and Eddie is standing a little straighter.

“Ah, yeah, I see.” Now he’s looking at the couch with you while you lean your weight onto his shoulders. He snaps his fingers together excitedly. “I’ve got it. Here.” He’s helping you down onto the couch, making sure you’ve got a pillow to rest under your hip before he gets the movie set up and turns off the lights. You’re waiting, a little sad to be sitting alone.

“Ok, can I sit here?” He’s pointing at the very end of the couch where you’re head and shoulders are resting, and you feel a smile pulling on your lips.

“Of course you can.” You sit up as much as you can, and Eddie sneaks his slender body next to you. It’s easy to rest your head on him, perfectly comfortable, his arms are gently surrounding you. You can feel his steady breathing and the rhythmic beating of his heart with your head on his broad chest.

LadyHawke is playing on the television. You know that. Michelle Pfeiffer and Matthew Broderick are right on the screen. Outside of that, nothing is connecting. Eddie’s hand is moving along your arm, fingers lazily running along your skin. Your face is pressed into his cotton t shirt, it smells like fabric softener and very faintly of cigarette smoke. You can feel his warm breath on the crown of your head. Your hand is running along the rings of his free hand, dipping into the valleys between his fingers. You can hear his breath hitch when you let the tip of your fingers rub against the sensitive skin.

“This is really nice, Ed.” You need him to know how you’re feeling right now before your heart explodes in your chest from his tender touches.

“Mmmm” The hum is thick, reverberating through his chest. He’s gone somewhere, just feeling and not thinking. As casually as possible without full function of you lower half, you turn yourself to look at his face. Your expectation is that you’ll see his face focused on the screen, but no. He’s looking down at you with a soft expression.

You reach to touch his face, asking him to look at you. Please, see me. He does. You see his vision focus, he’s back with you. You run your finger down his jaw, feeling the stubble growing there. His hand isn’t running along your arm now. No, it’s found the spot on your side where you’re shirt has ridden up, and now his fingers are bringing out goosebumps along this new place, a gentle dance.

It’s a challenge. It’s awkward. You’re moving your body in ways that are not completely natural, trying to angle your face to meet his. His sweet and knowing smile makes you giggle a little. It’s ridiculous that this should be so hard when it’s so stupidly easy for every other teenager in the world. But, this is Eddie, and he’s not making you feel weird.

“You wanna kiss, Sweet Girl?” Of course you want a kiss. It’s why you have your body twisted, face in the crook of his neck. So close. You have to pull yourself up using his shirt as leverage.

“No.” Your face is heating up enough that you’re sure he can feel it on the skin of his neck. “I just wanna put my face right here.” You let your lips brush against his the soft skin behind his ear, and he lets out a little groan.

“Oh, yeah, ok.” His breath is ragged as you trail your lips across his neck leaving gentle kisses as you go. His hands are gripped firmly at the skin of your side, he’s obviously trying to keep himself under control while you assault his most sensitive spots.

“Eddie, I’m sorry.” You breath out in the shell of his ear and his breath stutters, “I’m lying. I really do want you to kiss me.” Your teeth nip at the spot behind his hear, and you’re satisfied with the whimper that escapes his pretty mouth.

It’s still awkward, but neither of you seem to care. The goal is to let your lips meet. So close. So, so close. He’s so pretty. The reflection of the screen illuminates his face, and you’re struck again by his perfect features. You can’t get your face to angle in the right way, so you just bring your hand up to run along his eyebrows, down his nose, along his pretty lips.

He closes his eyes while you explore his features with your featherlight touches. Slowly, he starts to move away from you, gently guiding your body to a half sitting position.

“Lay down, Sweetheart.” His knees are resting on the carpet in front of the couch, and he helps you lay on your side to face him. “There she is.” His hand cups your cheek and he closes the distance to let your lips meet. Finally. His lips are as soft as the touches you’ve been sharing. His fingers scratch at the back of your head, and your open mouths taste each other while Lady Hawke plays on in the background, all while Eddie sits on his knees on the floor.

---

In your living room on that Friday night, you let the waves take you like you always did. The feelings were happening, there was no stopping it. There are so few things in your life that make perfect sense, there’s so much uncertainty. But Eddie was consistent, he was true. So, it happens, and it’s right.

Saturday, you’re mother takes you to a salon. Self-care has been low priority for a long time, but the hair cut was a practice in hope. Monday morning, instead of meeting Eddie in the parking lot of the high school, you’ll be sitting in the office of your surgeon discussing next steps. While waiting for your time slot, you flip through the book filled with glossy images of haircuts. You know what you want before even stepping foot in the door, but you need a visual reference. When you see the picture, you have to hold in a laugh, it’s exactly what you’re looking for. It’s not until you see the cut on the model that you realize it is the same cut that Isabeau wears in LadyHawke.

The seat is uncomfortable, it strains the already painful joint, but it’s so worth it. Angie, your hairstylist, is massaging your scalp more than washing your hair, and you feel like purring with satisfaction. You suspect that your mom told her something that made her want to give you extra pampering, and you don’t even care if it’s out of pity. When she finally turns the taps off and wraps your head in a towel, your eyes are heavy, but your body feels light.

Getting a haircut has always been a ritual you like to go through before major medical stuff. It’s a shedding of the past and making room for new growth. The practicality of having less hair to deal with post operation is an added bonus. This is the first cut you’ve had in a year, and your hair is well past the donation threshold. After the initial chop of the braids hanging down your back, you listen to the scissors snip snip snip while small clumps of hair float to the ground. You feel freer already.

Sunday Eddie visits for a while, and he brings Dustin. It’s a surprise, but you’re so happy to see him. Outside of your mom, they’re the only ones you’ve told about your anxieties. To his benefit, Dustin never comments on the fact that you’re head rests in Eddie’s lap and that he runs his fingers through your hair while they visit. Even though it looks physically painful for him to keep his thoughts to himself.

For the first time it doesn’t feel like you’re just passing time and waiting for the next thing. Waiting for you life to finally make sense and be set right. You feel accepted and held by Eddie. He sees you and doesn’t frown at the sight of your pain, he simply tries to not add to it. Having a friend like Dustin must have played a part in his understanding, but it’s more than that. Eddie just accepts and offers sincerity in everything.

When Dustin takes off, telling you he’s got plans with Mike Wheeler, you know he’s really giving you and Eddie some time. Eddie helps you over to the recliner so you can really rest, the week was long and you’re still so tired. You make yourself small and pull him into the oversized chair with you. He doesn’t argue. He moves with clear intention, cautiously but not with fear.

“Eddie, thanks for being here for me.” Your running your finger down his sternum, following a path to his ribs. You try not to think too hard about doing this without the cotton barrier of his shirt. You’re present, enjoying it for what is and trying to not wish any of it away.

“This is where I want to be, Baby. With my girl.” His eyes are closed, he looks as tired as you do. Fully relaxed under your touch.

“I’m your girl?” He keeps his eyes closed, but his mouth draws up into a smile at the softness of your voice.

“Yes, and I’m sorry. You’re stuck with me now. You found that spot behind my ear. I can’t let you go.” You take his hint and nose your way to his neck and run you lips along the spot. He’s practically growling his response, “You’re an evil woman, do you know that?”

“I’m sorry, I thought you liked this.” He pulls your chin away from his neck so you can see his face. The tender look on his face has you feeling gooey and warm. You spend the rest of the evening with your lips connected, taking all that you could give one another until – finally – you fall asleep to the sounds of his breathing.

#eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x disabled!reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #eddie munson smut #eddie munson stranger things #disability in fanfiction

72 notes · View notes

marmot567 · 21 days

Text

bitter orange — okkotsu yūta [1/3]

pairings. okkotsu yūta + f! reader/original character (main); past!orimito rika + f!reader; past!okkotsu yūta + orimito rika warnings/themes. mentions of death, jealousy, hints of obsession and possession. just a lil dark romance practice (which is barely any dark romance tbh who am i kidding) sprinkled with food motifs but i dont know what im doing im just here for the vibes :P mostly sfw with nsfw themes but nothing sexual bc im too scared to go down that dark path (also no use of y/n bc i started writing with an original name and it unfortunately stuck lawl... can be treated as either or it doesnt matter tbh i cant write anything outside of 2nd person anwyay) word count. 2.8k words nothing too crazy xd playlist. knuckle velvet, ethel cain; velvet ring, big thief; pure, cigarettes after sex; only in the dreams, the marias; be my mistake, the 1975; mary, alex g next

it’s been a long time since i have seen my beloved. the moss has grown on that abetachibana tree

PART ONE: ichigo daifuku

Gojō Satoru tells you that love is the most twisted curse of them all.

He had said it in passing after your first solo mission, right as you were entering the car back to Jujutsu Tech before talking your ear off with his lame jokes. The mission had consisted of exorcizing a curse that had persistently haunted an abandoned apartment complex in Omotesandō, assigned to you by the higher-ups in accordance with your newly promoted rank as a Grade 2 sorcerer, having decided that a Grade 1 was doable enough for someone of your caliber. The curse itself wasn’t anything special, though, only repeating gargled confessions of its love to some ‘Chiyo-chan’—whoever she was—the whole time you were dodging its attacks, which was incredibly annoying. You liked your battles in silence, quick and succinct, but curses make that difficult to achieve.

Gojō muses it could have been a past lover, this Chiyo-chan—its love for her having cursed itself. You didn’t really care. If you keep up the good work, complete your required missions and get another recommendation, you could be ranked a Semi-Grade 1 by your second year, then a Grade 1 by your third and nothing else after that because unless you were someone like Gojō Satoru, then you are capped forever at Grade 1.

“So anyway—snacks you like?” said sorcerer asks, finally done with his previous tale. Something about an old coworker. “Mochi, senbei, or taiyaki? Personally, I'm a mochi ice cream type of guy!”

You look at him.

“Why are you here again?”

“... Is your memory that small, Ume? I was proctoring you,” he tuts, mouth turned downwards. “Congrats on the promotion, by the way.”

You shrug. “Ichigo daifuku is good, I guess.”

He smiles, wryly.

“You’re joking, right?”

The building facing your childhood home had been home to Orimito Rika, an unsuspecting property with a decent front yard and the occasional street cat or two often shooed away by her irate grandmother. “Mean granny,” you’d often call her, the insult drowned out by your hushed giggles as you played with your dolls. Rika wouldn’t say anything about it, wouldn’t dare verbally agree with you, but she would always nod her head down, the corners of her lips turned up too high.

You didn’t particularly hate the old woman, but there was a certain kind of satisfaction to saying it behind her back after all the times you’ve caught her looking at her granddaughter in unbridled scorn, your own little form of revenge. You could never understand how her only remaining family could look at her like that, not when Rika was so beautiful and kind; like the cherry blossoms during spring, falling gently along with the wind. Sure, she could be a little cunning at times, and none of the other kids at school liked her because “something’s odd about her, can’t you just hang out with us instead?”—but that’s what makes her interesting, right?

Rika isn’t weird, she’s pretty, and you’re the bee drawn to her. She’s only older than you by a year, ten instead of nine, but she always played with you, taught you how to make flower crowns at the park, and when you walked home from school she’d always hold your hand. Her smile is blindingly bright, the sound of her voice a song you couldn’t stop listening to. Selfishly, you wish it would always be the two of you together; playing with your dolls, walking home with your hands intertwined.

But when she came back from the hospital, so did Okkotsu Yūta.

You could never see what she saw in him; he was short and just a little bit pathetic, always trailing after her like a lost puppy at first. You could push him off the swing and he'd move on with a sniffle, the kind to give up the plastic shovel even though he desperately needed it to finish his sand castle because he didn’t want to fight a girl. He smiled shyly and hid his hands behind his back, looking at you like he was looking for your approval. Of course, you never gave him the time of day, because it felt like he had stolen Rika—your Rika. It was supposed to be just you and her, but that wasn’t the case anymore. Now there was Okkotsu Yūta, who held Rika’s other hand after school, who took away her attention from you so easily.

“He’s so cute, isn’t he?” she asks often, a light blush dusting her face.

“I guess,” is your reply.

“Ne,” she calls, presenting to you a small, black box. You look at it in apprehension, wincing when she eventually opens it. “What do you think of this ring? It was my mom’s. I’m gonna give this to Yūta-kun, do you think he’ll like it?”

The ring was immensely simple, a silver-colored band with a small diamond in front, glinting under the light. Nevermind the fact that it was too big for a child’s fingers to fit in, Rika presented it to you as if it held all the answers to the world. Although her parents were dead, and she had definitely stolen it from her grandmother’s dresser, the ring spoke full of promise. When she takes it out of the box and lets you inspect it, it feels heavy.

“... You really like him, don’t you, Rika-chan?” you ask, quietly.

Rika looks at the stupid piece of jewelry, painfully smitten.

“Mhm,” she affirms. “I really like Yūta-kun. I want to be with him forever! Of course, I like you too, Ume-chan. You and Yūta-kun are my favorite people in the world!”

You close the box, handing it back to her. When Rika looks at you expectantly, you realize then that you could never bring yourself to take that happiness away from her.

The koinobori flies.

“It’s so pretty!” Rika exclaims, eyes wide and staring up at the sky where the huge, windsock carp moves around. It’s bathed in all sorts of colors—from red to blue to white to green—dancing along the azure expanse in commemoration of Children’s Day. The weather is just right, not too hot nor too cold, and the wind caresses your skin gently, the sun not too harsh. It makes the color of Rika’s hair shine in all the right ways, adds more sparkle in her already bright eyes. She’s wearing a yellow sundress, a nice change from her usual blue one. The cream-colored hat you let her borrow covers her face with the shade, but her smile remains bright and blinding. She looks pretty.

She gives you all of her ichigo daifuku, and shares Yūta’s snacks. She doesn’t even like chimaki.

“Are you sure, Rika-chan?” you ask, looking at the two sweets in your hands.

She beams. “You like them, don’t you?”

You keep them with you until the end of the event.

The day passes by incredibly fast, your little trio having exhausted yourselves from running around the park alongside the other children. Yūta chases Rika around the park, and you watch them squeal and laugh at each other and hold hands. You watch them take a nap under the shade, their pinkies intertwined, and you watch as the ugly color of green blinds your eyesight. You leave them be.

Sometimes, you wish you’re the colorful koinobori flying in the sky. You’d let Rika hold on to you, let her fly and hear her amused laugh as the wind tickles her skin. Sometimes, you wish Yūta slapped the ring away from her hands when she handed it to him. Wish he stomped it on the ground and at the same time stomped on her heart. Wish he didn’t take it with a huge smile and agree that he’d marry her when they get older; he’s not the one who’d wait long lines just to get her the best ichigo daifuku, not the one who’d jump at the other kids when they so much as think of insulting her, and he won’t be the one who’d choose to stay with her when she’s all gray and old cause he’s a boy, and boys would never do that.

Sometimes, you wish he never liked her at all—because he never deserved her in the first place.

Okkotsu Yūta could never love Orimito Rika like you.

He sits beside you at lunch.

Rika’s been bedridden for the whole week, which subsequently ruins your week. Yūta doesn’t seem to mind her absence all that much since he doesn’t see her a lot during classes anyway, but they’re supposed to be engaged. He should always be thinking of her, should be acting as miserable as you even at the unripe age of nine. He looks too okay with her absence when he shouldn’t be.

“What’s this?” you ask, pointing at the small bag of snacks he had placed on the cover of your bento.

“Hm?” he looks up. “Oh, it’s norimaki senbei.”

“... And?” you prod.

He tilts his head. “You don’t want it?”

“... I don’t want it.”

He looks at you thoughtfully.

“But you like them, don’t you?” he asks though he’s acting like he already knows, like you’ll take it regardless of what you say. It’s annoying.

You look at the seaweed-wrapped rice crackers—the stupid norimaki senbei—in mild contempt. “Why are you giving it to me?”

Yūta’s smile is small, knowing. “Because you don’t like sweets.”

You frown.

She’s a sweet girl.

You think of Orimoto Rika like that because it’s true—she smiles sweetly, she speaks sweetly, and she likes sweet things. She tells you that her favorite snack is ichigo daifuku, the very same confection you always begged your parents to buy for you just so you could share them with her. It pays off all the time because then she’d look as sweet as the daifuku itself, her cheeks as red as the fruit within it. She also likes hanami dango, but she doesn’t like the green part because she doesn’t really like the subtle taste of yomogi, so you eat the rest for her because she doesn’t want to waste it. She likes cold tea instead of hot, sweet instead of savory, like yuzu iced tea or bubbly ramune in comparison to the nutty taste of hōjicha. When you go to the store, she always gets the kompeitō with some random anime character on the packaging because those were the “cutest kind of kompeitō,” and Rika likes cute things.

She also likes the color pink, but when you ask her what her favorite color is she’d say it’s blue. It’s blue not because she wears that blue dress all the time, but blue because it’s the color of Okkotsu Yūta’s eyes, bright and round and always looking at her. Rika likes it that way—she likes how Okkotsu Yūta is always looking at her with his blue eyes, unwavering and full of adoration for her and her only.

You think Orimito Rika is a sweet girl, but sometimes she’s more than that. Sometimes, when the other kids get brave enough to drag you away from her, tell you to stop hanging out with her, they say it’s because Rika doesn’t like anyone else but Okkotsu Yūta.

Sometimes, when they tell you that, you wonder if Rika liked you at all, way before Okkotsu Yūta came into the picture.

But most of the time, you don’t really care. Even if Rika didn’t like you, you’d still like her. Even if she’d only have her eyes set on Okkotsu Yūta with his stupid blue eyes and his stupid norimaki senbei and stupid chimaki that he shared with her on the fifth of May, you’d still like her because she’s Rika—beautiful, kind, and wonderful Rika.

She has things she doesn’t like, too, such as other people but never Yūta-kun or Ume-chan! She likes it when people compliment her and praise her looks and give her free stuff like ramune or ichigo daifuku or Sailor Moon-themed kompeitō from the store, but sometimes she tells you that she dislikes this certain group of girls from Yūta’s class, dislikes the boy assigned as your seatmate, her homeroom teacher, the “weird” guy who works at the konbini a street over, and dislikes it even more when her grandmother looks at her and tells her she killed her own father without even saying anything at all.

You know all those things because you know Orimito Rika. You like her even if she holds intense dislike for the people outside her circle, people who tick her off just a little for you to see her smile crack at the edges and go stiff, the little twitch of her brown eyes, and most importantly, you still like her when all she wants in the world is the attention of the boy who wears her deceased mother’s ring.

You’ll always want sweet girls like her.

“Where’s Rika-chan?”

“Her grandma won’t let her go out today,” Yūta says, sitting next to you on the bench. “So it’s just you and me.”

He says it dejectedly, but it’s not enough for you. If he was really sad, then he’d be as sad as you are, so you start packing your belongings. “I’m leaving, then.”

He startles, standing up. “Huh? W–wait! Don’t leave just yet!”

“But Rika-chan’s not here,” you frown. “There’s no point in hanging out today.”

He falters, looking down at the ground.

“Even if she isn’t here, we can still play together…” he offers, looking up at you timidly. “We’re friends, too, aren’t we?”

The green-eyed monster stares at the silver chain wrapped around his neck, the ring acting as its pendant tucked underneath his shirt—like an unattainable treasure trapped inside a chest with the key thrown away somewhere you cannot find it. We’re not friends, the monster says with a snarl, stay away from me.

If there is one thing you know, then it’s that you have never wanted to be friends with Okkotsu Yūta, not after he took everything from you. He can butter you up by sticking to you during class and sitting next to you at lunch and even offering you some of his not-ichigo daifuku, not-yuzu iced tea, and not-colorful anime-themed kompeitō but you will and have never liked him for the green-eyed monster will always sit on your shoulder so long as he wears that ring on his person, a physical manifestation of his promise with Rika. Your Rika, even if that’s not really the case.

You will never like Okkotsu Yūta, because—because he—

“... What’re we even gonna do?” you ask, slowly.

He immediately brightens up.

“… Wanna get ice cream?” he offers. “There’s a new flavor I wanna try!”

His suggestion does not entice you at all, but when he stands there with an outstretched hand waiting for you to take it, like it’ll matter if you reject him, you find yourself at a crossroads. But you make your decision soon enough. Like it’ll matter, like the green-eyed monster isn’t there, staring.

“Okay,” you say, moving past him to start walking. He blinks incredulously at the blatant rejection before gathering himself and following after you, a prep to his step regardless of your actions.

You try to ignore the warmth of his body next to yours.

He’s too close.

“Yūta-kun’s birthday is in a few days,” Rika announces, lying on your spare futon. “Did you get him anything?”

You didn’t. “... Yeah.”

“Really? What is it?” she cranes her neck to face you. “What’d you get him?”

She doesn’t want your gift being better than hers, it checks out. “Um… just a toy. A garbage truck.”

“Oh, okay,” she turns back to face the ceiling. “I made him a scrapbook with photos of us. I worked really hard on it… do you think he’ll like it?”

“He’ll like anything you give him.”

She’s already given him a ring—what else could compare to that?

Rika smiles. “I guess… you’re right.”

Soon enough, she goes to sleep, breathing softly beside you as your fan fills the silence of the night. You continue staring at the ceiling, making out the little dents despite the lack of light. You squeeze the hand that holds your under the cover, before closing your eyes.

You hear her softly breathe on a steady beat alongside the fan whirring in the corner, and you close your eyes, squeezing her hand tighter underneath the covers of your too-close futon.

You’ll have to ask your parents for some money tomorrow.

“Rika-chan isn’t here again,” Yūta says dejectedly. “Her granny’s too strict.”

“She hates her,” you say quietly.

Yūta looks at you, confused. “What’d you say?”

“Nothing. Your birthday’s coming up soon, what are you doing that day?”

“Uwah—you remember?”

“Rika-chan told me.”

“Oh, well,” he smiles sheepishly, “we have school that day, but after that I’ll be celebrating at my house. I’m thinking of just inviting Rika-chan and you over… um, so, will you come?”

“I’ll go if Rika-chan is going.”

He blinks, before a smile blooms on his face. “Okay! I’ll see you, then.”

It happens when you aren't there.

It never should have happened at all.

Orimito Rika is pronounced dead at the age of eleven, her body unrecognizable under the heavy weight of a blue truck.

#yuuta okkotsu x reader #jjk #yuta okkotsu #jujutsu kaisen #jjk okkotsu #jjk x reader #yuuta okkotsu x you #yuta x reader #okkotsu yuta x reader #okkotsu yuta x you #okkotsu yuuta #yuuta okkotsu smut #jjk imagines

64 notes · View notes