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#technically!! for a oneshot <3
daffodilcaptain · 8 months
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girlboss real as hell
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frickingnerd · 8 months
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hold me in your arms tonight
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pairing: junpei iori x fem!reader
summary: you can't pick a dress for date night, but junpei makes the decision easier for you...
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“what do you think of that dress?”
you looked at yourself in the mirror, admiring the dress you were wearing. it was certainly pretty, but you weren't quite sure if it was pretty enough for date night with junpei. while you had been trying on dress after dress, junpei sat on your bed, quietly watching.
“i think you look good in it!”
junpei smiled and watched you, even though he could only see the front of the dress in your reflection. still, you looked good in it. of course you did, you looked good in everything!
“but… do you know what else you'd look good in~?” junpei grinned at you, as you glanced over your shoulder, looking at him. “my arms~!”
you couldn't help but chuckle and roll your eyes at how cheesy he was. as he spread out his arms, you stepped closer and allowed him to wrap his arms around you, pulling you onto the bed with him.
“maybe i should just stay in your arms for tonight, instead of that dress…”
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Oneshot Wallpapers: Glen
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Courtyard
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Calamus and Alula
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Maize
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5eraphim · 11 months
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Heads up, the stuff under "read more"s tend to be lost when the blog deactivates. Basically it's treated as a link to the blog but it cannot be accessed as it is now deactivated.
(this ask is a very, helpful incentivizer to get me back to work uploading back-ups of my fics to AO3/actually update that backup account (@chervbim ) and i thank you for the heads up!)
this ask also feels like im a mafia grunt getting an unknown call from inside the house something's about to go down... someone's about to target my turf. better steel up your defences before something happens to all the effort you've put into this account/ the writings within.
yeah it'd be pretty sad to go the way of yanderebloodlust. i always wondered what happened to them, or why they like, totally vanished into the night like that :/
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beauleifu · 2 years
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5/12: Palisman
A late contribution to the Huntlow week of 2022 <3
Context: A small yet memorable rendezvous between two magical rascals and their in denial care-takers. Takes place during Season 3.
-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ- o -ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ- o -ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ- o -ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ- o -ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-
She was laying on the ground when he walked in.
It's a Saturday.
Luz had taken everyone else to have another go at the portal; Hunter had volunteered to help Camila prepare lunch.
His Captain, too (he'd remember that).
But now, with lunch baking in the oven and Camila in her room (not without giving the kids plenty of things to do and reminding them she'd check up on them every so often), there's nothing to do.
Which was when Hunter discovered the living room already occupied.
The ceiling held her gaze, giving no light to illuminate her pretty features like the sun would have. He'd always admired the sparkle to those emerald green eyes, but now they're half-lidded (no less beautiful, though).
Hunter hadn't meant to intrude; rather, his intentions were to have himself a nice glass of water from the kitchen.
But lo and behold!
Willow was in the living room, spread eagle on the patterned rug with a pillow supporting her head. Her hair, normally tied up in two side braids, was free and disheveled, likely full of tangles from who knows what. The flyer derby captain was wearing a simple white T-shirt with large, multicolored happy faces printed on the front in two columns of three, and some comfy looking shorts. Pj's, in short, yet it was sometime around midday. Sure, the sun was unable to grace her soft cheeks and cute little nose, yet it swallowed the rest of her body in a gentle glow. Hunter could even see specs of dust hovering in the air above her, sparkling like tiny fireflies in the sunrays.
They went unnoticed, unfortunately.
Everything went unnoticed by Willow. Perhaps she was aware of her surroundings, but not enough to summon the energy to properly interact with it. She was merely existing at the moment, and it baffled the former Golden Guard.
Suddenly, a light pressure was applied to his shoulder.
Flapjack gave a tweet.
Oh no.
Hunter automatically shrugged the bird off, going so far as to wave him away. "Buzz off!" He whispered, heart spiking. Flapjack was notorious for getting what he wants (and Hunter knows what Flapjack wants). "I'll take care of this."
Yes, he would.
The former Golden Guard was completely prepared to sneak past Willow like the coward he was. There's no way he'd even think of interacting-
Flapjack suddenly seized what small strands of Hunter's hair he could and tugged.
Hard.
"Ow!" Hunter hissed, wincing in pain. "Okay, okay! Leggo!"
The bird did so, and Hunter massaged his hair with a wounded expression as Flapjack fluttered upwards and nestled into the boy's hair, trimmed and styled in a way his Uncle would never tolerate.
Flapjack chirped again, quietly.
Hunter rolled his eyes, voice equally low. "I was going to."
Willow was waiting.
So to her he walked. His footsteps were, thankfully, muffled by the soft fluff of his red socks.
He had no idea what he was doing.
But curiosity had him suddenly standing over her, chin to his chest.
Curiosity caused his head to tilt and words to tumble past his lips. "How's the weather down there, Captain?"
And then he realized how absolutely stupid that sounded, and his eyes went as wide as Willow's when she looked at him in surprise.
But her voice was soft, as was the smile she gave him.
"Oh. Hey, Hunter."
She wasn't mad. She wasn't mad.
"Sorry! Sorry - a-am I bothering you?" Was his automatic response, hands slightly raised as though he could physically shove off the embarrassment creeping up on him. Hunter could only look to the ceiling as Willow had done, if only to avoid her beautiful green gaze.
"Oh- I wasn't doing anything, really," Willow was saying, but it barely registered to Hunter. His gaze had snapped down to watch her sit up.
Crap.
He'd totally ruined whatever she was doing.
Blowing out a defeated sigh, Hunter ran a hand through his hair and refused to look at his Captain.
"Water. That - um, I mean. I was gonna get some water. A-Again, I'm really sorry," he added for good measure, shuffling from one foot to another. Willow was sitting with her legs crossed now, the pillow trapped between her arms. "I didn't mean to stare- not that I was! I wasn't staring, that would be creepy, right? I-I just wanted some water, that's it, I- wait! Flapjack!"
His hands were suddenly outstretched.
Flapjack had decided just then to take off and settle down on the rug. Hunter had only just noticed the presence of Clover, Willow's palisman, who seemed delighted to have company.
"Flapjack!" Hunter said again, glaring. "Come here!"
If the bird could blow a raspberry, he totally would, given the look he gives Hunter.
Ooh, sometimes, that bird . . .
The two palismen spent a minute greeting each other before flying up to perch on either side of Willow.
Shoulders now occupied, the witch blinked.
"Hey, guys," she hummed, glancing at Flapjack and Clover in turn. Her eyes sparkled, and for a moment, Hunter was able to forget about being mad at his palisman to appreciate what the sun had forgotten to give his Captain.
That sparkle. It's something he would always wish for, and miss when it went away.
"You mind getting a glass for me, too?"
Hunter felt obliged to lock eyes with her. "You want . . . um-"
Oh, how could be possibly continue being so awkward when her eyes were so nice and warm? The instinct to follow orders without question had him straightening and nodding. "O-Of course!"
He did so.
With almost mechanical movements.
Curse Flapjack and his innate ability to drag Hunter into these kinds of situations!
Well . . .
Hunter felt his face heat up. It was never actually a bad thing.
These 'situations'.
He was tumbling headfirst into another one with the way he's going, two water glasses in his hands as he returned to the living room. Willow's eyes snapped up and her smile grew.
Poor Hunter, he could only thrust out one of the cups and look away. "Here-!"
His Captain was beaming, now. "Thanks, Hunter."
Her fingertips brushed the back of his hand as she took the cup from him, the tone in her voice hinting amusement. (yea, okay, he blushed) He should leave, Hunter should totally be okay to excuse himself now, but he stayed to make sure she took a sip, watching Flapjack carefully so he doesn't try anything.
He never did, though.
Not when things were going his way.
"You, um . . ." She dragged out the 'you', as though mulling over her words as she spoke them. "You wanna join me?"
"On the floor?"
"You sleep in a bag on the floor, Hunter."
"Touché," Hunter agreed solemnly, but stuck a finger up and continued; "Temporarily. What about you?"
As he flopped ungraciously on the rug beside her (not too close, not too close), his Captain hummed, eyebrows skyrocketing. "Cot. Add some blankets and pillows and you could mistake it for an actual bed."
"Hmph. You're so special," Hunter muttered.
He'd meant for it to sound teasing, but he was still getting over the initial awkwardness to be able to control his voice.
Oh, well.
It made Willow laugh, and that immediately cheered Hunter up.
"Now you're making me feel bad!" Said Willow, reaching over to snag another pillow off the couch behind them. With that, she carelessly tossed it in such away that it hit his face. "There. Have a pillow for your troubles."
"Ack-!" Hunter's hands shot up to seize the offending object, peeking over it with wide eyes as Willow settled back down on the floor.
Flapjack and Clover moved to her bent knees, chirping.
"They really like each other, y'know."
Hunter turned to peer scrutinizingly at Flapjack, trying to figure him out. But Willow's words resonate within him; the two really have clicked in ways the other palismen haven't.
"Yeah . . . you think maybe they knew each other in a past life?" Hunter asked, awkwardly positioning himself on the floor beside her.
"Ooooh, maybe - like they were best friends or something?"
"Something like that."
Willow gasped, gesturing with her hands in the air. "Soulmates! And it was destiny for them to meet again."
Clover and Flapjack simply stared at her before sharing a glance.
Hunter chuckled, willing himself to relax. The sun felt warm and the floor wasn't too uncomfortable. Besides, Camila was in her room; if she'd left it, Hunter would've heard. The only thing that could possibly ruin the moment was if a certain red menace decided to have another go at pulling his hair.
"Hey, Hunter."
"Yeah?"
Willow reached out to gently brush her palisman's cheek, before going to rub the bee's neck affectionately. In return, Clover buzzed and leaned into the touch.
"Does Flapjack ever talk to you?"
Said bird tweeted as Hunter snorted. "Yeah, like, all the time. Never seems to shut up."
If Willow could detect the underlying affection, she didn't say anything. "And you can understand what he tells you?"
"Of course. But most of the time he just likes pulling my hair. Lucky you cut it, am I right?" He added with a wide smile, before realizing the context behind that statement. When Willow had caught him in the dead of night. The memory burned fresh in his mind.
Oh, gosh.
The former Golden Guard's cheeks grew hot again. Hot like fire.
He was quick to recover, thumbs twiddling together over his chest. "I-I mean, what about you? Does your palisman ever talk?"
"Meh." Willow shrugged, before snuffing out a laugh. "Most of the time she just brings me gifts."
"Gifts?? Like offerings?"
"No, no!" At this, the laugh escaped Willow before she could stop it. Hunter found himself smiling again at the sound as she continued; "It's not like that, she's not my servant or anything. But she does like to disappear without a trace only to return an hour later with things she found on her adventures," she finished mysteriously.
Hunter was honestly curious, now. 'Like what?"
"Buttons, these cool cards Luz said people used to play magic games. Like Hexes Hold'em! She also brings me all sorts of plants and mushrooms from this realm, old trinkets and jewelry, and this one time she brought back these cool star-shaped sunglasses. Gus said they were retro," said Willow, doing a little jazz-hands and giggling to herself. "And get this! They're green."
All right, he'd bite. Hunter found himself smiling, too. "Let me guess, green's your favorite color?"
His friend merely rolled her eyes, nudging his shoulder with her elbow as she sat up. Her touch sent sparks through his body. It was electric, that feeling.
"Okay, you. Think it's weird, do ya?"
Hands are thrown in the air in mock-surrender. "No!"
She grinned.
"Think it's . . . retro?"
Copying Willow and sitting up, Hunter shrugged. "Eh . . . I guess?"
"I think it's cute. In fact, I have this little box that I put all her gifts into, I can show you sometime if you want?" Willow offered, hands splayed palm-up to allow Clover to settle upon them. She brought her palisman closer, nuzzling the bee affectionately and talking to her. "Yeah, you wanna show Hunter your stash? Totally."
Flapjack took his chance to fly up onto Hunter's head.
But Hunter was preoccupied.
"It's not back . . ." Hunter suddenly felt self conscious, afraid to continue. But upon seeing Willow's soft, open gaze, he took a deep breath and let it out. "The box isn't back with your dads, is it?"
Instantly, he knew what he said was a mistake.
Flapjack even nipped his ear.
Willow's expression grew bittersweet, hints of something a tad more somber underneath the smile she gave him.
"I do have one back home," she said, brushing the fuzz atop Clover's head as she talked; "But I made another one during our time here."
Good going, Hunter.
Hunter swallowed. "Oh. Nice. . . . Sorry."
"No. No apologizing, I absolutely forbid it," said willow, grinning mischievously as she raised a finger to shush him. With Clover perched on her head, she looked absolutely adorable sitting there beside Hunter. With that, she gestured upstairs. "Y'know what, I'm gonna go get that box really quick. You wait here, I'll be right back."
Giving him another smile, Willow stood and walked out of the room. Hunter listened to her footsteps fade upstairs.
Then, his face exploded with heat.
Hands found his face, and he was almost unable to suppress a small squeak.
All that came out was a small, soft sigh of happiness.
He could get used to this.
Little do the lovebirds know, Camila had discovered the two and felt it necessary to take a few pictures for safe keeping.
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[6-8 August // 16 September // 5 October 2022] DnD characters and NPCs
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bonestrouslingbones · 11 months
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watching in fear as this oneshot approaches 3k words knowing damn well i'm barely even halfway through
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comfortlesshurt · 21 days
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shhh, I know I talk about my children too much. but you can't stop my love
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forgot to include this at first, whoops, but I also added a little daily par tracker so I can see it all in one place! there's a separate sheet where i update my word count every time i think about it, and then this table uses a vlookup to find the most recent word count and show it as a percent and a daily par to finish by the listed due date. (the par column compares between the overall goal and the subgoal and lists whichever par is higher between the two)
#really excited i broke 40k on that first one!#but i'm def struggling with not having anything to post#i think i'd have more motivation if i had some more oneshots ready to publish but uhhh#i'm ngl i don't#every time i try to work on one i get too excited about the series and end up back over to it#which is probably good!#because i'm back up to ~1k/day across three of those fics#but 1k a day could get me SO MANY oneshots in a month you know?#feels like i'm losing out#also don't look too close at that whumptober project#as always the prompts are excellent but of COURSE i'm struggling to come up with anything i'm excited to write for them#also now for the true cruelty#i've been spending so much time writing that i don't even want to scroll through The Used lyrics looking for titles for fics 3 and 4!#like dude i already KNOW i want everything in this series to be The Used inspired so i have that narrowed down#i just can't get myself to do it!#fic 2 is also still stuck with a different title i originally considered for the same reason#also yes the used technically breaks my typical fic titling rule#they're too well-known and it hurts my hipster heart to show you all that i'm basic#but they have SO MANY good lyrics that i couldn't resist anyway#ANYWAY final vent:#i really want to write right now but i've gotta clock in in six minutes so i'm just gonna cry while i work instead#(but my side work project is going really well right now so i'm excited about that too)#(like we're meeting to discuss the timeline today and i think we're gonna be able to hit our milestones a few weeks early now)#(since i just had a major breakthrough on something i projected taking 3 weeks)
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kenobihater · 7 months
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i've been endlessly re-reading my fic for the revamp to the point where i've had to pause and come back with fresh eyes more times than i can count. today though, rather than me reading through and attempting to add scenes, fix continuity errors, tweak paragraph breaks, change diction and sentence structure, and wrestle with minor grammatical issues that i've agonized over for too long, i finished writing up a list of problems rather than attempting to remember all of the things i needed to look for and edit out at once.
i've already edited out FIVE separate issues from all chapters (thank you word search!) by focusing on one issue and taking it one chapter at a time. they were mostly grammatical fixes, but i did double-check that obi-wan didn't have any inconsistencies about his feelings on family prior to his realization in chapter 6. i still have to tackle some grammar, do some lore checking, and write up some small scenes and then ensure the following chapters address them, but i've accomplished more in a few hours than i have in like a week of not prioritizing one issue rather than trying to read through without a concrete focus and getting overwhelmed.
if you're struggling with editing a longer piece, i highly, HIGHLY recommend doing this once you've read through enough times to get a feel for the issues you have!!!!
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lustsright-handman · 1 year
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my writing process is like DNA replication/synthesis
you'd think it's entirely linear but no. i have a general idea of how i want the plotline to run, then i start writing in random places along that plotline, and i work on like 3473 different parts of the story at once while continuously going back to connect pieces together and clean it up and make it all flow smoothly so it looks continuous until there's a finished piece
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ambrosiagoldfish · 7 months
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I've never sent a request before, but I'm fiending for more adam, like anything, anything at all
Benefit of the doubt
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Adam x 3rd Spouse! Reader
Viewer discretion is advised
Warnings: Angst(?), Not exactly fluff at the end but it gets better, typical Adam TW’s, reader low-key high-key has a complex about being loved, this is set way before the show, and Gn! Reader. (Also Y/n isn’t used, which also surprised me, the author, LMAO)
Part 2 Part 3 Part 4
Request Box: Open
Word count: 1760
A/N: Hi! Thanks for the request! I haven’t had a chance to write something that was originally my own idea in a while, so this was very refreshing! I’ve had this idea since I’ve watched the show so I hope you enjoy it!
I’m entirely up for making a small series from this oneshot, but I would need to know y’all’s opinion on it! (So don’t feel scared to let me know if you want some more of this idea in my Request box/the replies on this post!!)
Also Adam may be slightly OOC but please just chalk it up to him not yet getting his ego’s dick sucked 24/7
Anyways, I hope you all enjoy, let me know if you do!
Proofread but of course could have left mistakes!
You’ve existed for almost all of human existence, Almost.
You were the 4th being to be created during the time of Eden. But unlike the other 3, you weren’t human. In fact, you technically never lived before. An honestly hopeless existence, yet it was so beautiful in every way. But for what purpose? Well…
You were created shortly after Eve ate the apple, before she and eventually Adam committed the first act of sin that caused evil to latch onto humanity like a leech.
The reason for your existence was simple. To be Adam’s new spouse, except for when after he died. From the very moment Eve bit the fruit of temptation, it was already decided she would hold no place in heaven. Adam was given mercy due to him not possessing any knowledge of the fruit Eve had shared with him, he trusted her wholeheartedly. Which is exactly why heaven gave him mercy… no, pity would be a better choice of words.
Upon your creation you learned immediately of the happenings before your existence. About Lilith and Eve, and about Lucifer
And so, after Adam and Eve were casted away from the Garden, they continued to live their lives, fostering the existence of mankind for the rest of time. And when they eventually died, Adam was given pity while Eve was thrown to the wayside, the vast unknown.
You thought it was finally your time to experience existence with the one you loved, the one you were made for. Of course you never would know life as he did but surely your life never-after life could be just as meaningful as his.
How excited you were, how completely enamored by the thought of it. But there was a problem with that, Adam had grown into a new person, he was meant to of course, he was human. But he had grown selfish, abhorrent… insecure.
You understood why, to be betrayed by not one but two of his wives for the same person. You couldn’t possibly imagine what he could be feeling. Before you were to meet your future husband, Sera informed you that he had asked for a mask, and once on, he has refused to take it off.
That didn’t bother you, it’s irrelevant to your love for him. You've only heard descriptions of his features. Short Brown hair, gold eyes, bushy eyebrows, some scruff on his chin. All in all, he sounded perfectly fine, ordinary even. But even then it’s his choice to wear the mask, so you’ll respect it.
Finally, the time he arrived in heaven, and when Sera finally introduced you, his new spouse, the one to whom would be by his side for the rest of forever.
He rejected you outright.
“What?” Your breath hitched as you stuttered over the word, the sharp inhale of your lungs through your mouth flicked through the air.
Sera looked just as shocked as you but she quickly regained her composure “What is the meaning of this Adam?”
“If you think I’m going to let my life get fucked over by another one of your “gifts” well, you’ve got another thing coming!” He crossed his arms and shook his head defyingly. “I’ve already learned my lesson with those last 2 bitches.”
“Adam I’m sorry that happened to you but I would never-“ almost like lightning his finger shot to your mouth, shushing you.
“Save it, Sweetcheeks, I really don’t care what you have to say, so just stay there and look pretty, k?” His hand fell and grabbed the sides of your face, squishing your cheeks together, his LED mask flashing a sharp smile.
You saddeningly looked down at the clouds below you.
“Adam!” Sera’s voice sounded through the air, still soft but firm, she continued, placing a hand on your shoulder, “Divine judgment allowed you to be the first human soul in heaven, so I gave you the benefit of the doubt. I expect you to give your new spouse that same grace.”
Slowly your eyes looked up at Sera with a soft smile. Adam only groaned “Ugh, Fine but don’t be fuxking annoying, capiche?” You nod your head quickly.
“Very good, glad we have it settled.” Sera gives a quick smile, “now, I have some business to take care of so I’ll leave you two alone to get to know one another” With that, Sera flew away leaving the both of you alone.
The silence was thick in the air, the only sound being the occasional wind breeze blowing past. The sunlight creeps in through the clouds painting an orange sky above you both. In every sense of the word, it was perfect.
It was almost funny. You had waited so long to finally meet him, your true love, the one you were made for. All the things you dreamed about, the laughs you’d have together, the warm embrace of the person who you loved. But now… you didn’t know what to say…
“I’m… happy to finally meet you.” Your voice is quiet, almost non-audible. “I’ve been waiting for you since… well, forever…”
He doesn’t respond. He seems to be transfixed on something below you both. You train your eyes on whatever he’s watching only to see the dark cavernous abyss below you. Finally he breaks his silence.
“The fuck is that?” He asked pointing down, a sound of genuine intrigue hidden behind his abrasive voice
“That’s hell?” You stated confused “where would-be sinners will go to be punished, didnt you k-“ you suddenly realized that perhaps Adam really didn’t know what hell was. It was only created relatively recently, after Eve and Him ate the apple, of course he wouldn’t know. “it’s also where Lucifer-“
“Don’t fucking say his name.” Adam spoke, his voice rough in his speech. LED mask putting a harsh frown on his face. “Let’s get one thing straight M”Kay babe, if you’re my “new spouse” that’s something you should remember.” The “new spouse” was said with a tone clearly meant to mock you.
“Sorry…”
“Ugh, It’s fine, just don’t do it again.” He groaned before a wicked smile crept onto his mask “Sooo, that means he’s going to be stuck with all the wasteful beings of existence, HA fuxkin’ hilarious. Guess that makes them the losers and us the Winners!”
His laugh filled the air, the sound was like music to your ears, sure maybe it wasn’t really what you’d hoped he’d fine funny, but you loved it all the same but eventually his laugh died down
Silence again… in admits of all of it you suddenly was sparked with a thought “oh!” Adam looked confused at the random exclamation. “I had almost forgotten… I brought you something, as a welcome gift or was it a nice to meet you gift? Both? Eh, it doesn’t matter but the point is-“ you suddenly snap your fingers.
Golden light began shining, the light seemed like liquid hot magma as it moved and molded slowly into a shape. Light seemed to be overlapping and churning into itself, forming your desired outcome. With one final snap of your fingers, the gleaming gold liquid took hold, and quickly hardened to a solid.
The object that had formed quickly fell down, landing in your arms with a light thud.
“I’m still learning this creation stuff, so I’m sorry if it’s not perfect but-“ you hold out the object in your arms as an invitation to grab it “I learned from Sera that you liked to play guitar when you were alive, so I thought you might like to have one here…”
Adam looked at the instrument in your hands. The base color was gold, the neck was pearly white with gold strings. To be honest it looked more like a harp then anything, like if a guitar and a harp had a baby.
Silence again. Did he not like it? Did he hate it? You go to pull it back to you and apologize when suddenly it’s ripped out from your hands.
“Holyshit, this is sick as Fuck!” Adam immediately started playing some rifts on the new guitar. The sound wasn’t what you were expecting but you guess Sera was right about his talent with the instrument. The whole time his mask had a wide and sharp smile as he mimicked guitar sounds with his voice, the occasional laugh leaving his mouth.
“I’m really glad you like it” you say, a sigh of relief leaving your body.
Adam looked at you, one you missed. He saw how relieved you were, how nice you were being. No person who supposedly loved him ever gifted him something, well, one other did. Someone he trusted and loved more than everyone, anyone. But look how that ended, with them being removed from the garden, away from an eternity of happiness until he died. All from someone giving him what he thought was nothing but love, a gift.
But he could see that this was different, you were different. When Eve gave him the apple, she didn’t explain what it was or why she wanted him to eat it, even when he asked her she didn’t explain. But with you, you had not only given him something you knew he liked but also expressed the reason behind it. Yes, you were different, even Adam could see it.
“Anyways, thanks for the axe, I guess…” Adam for the first time was stunned, but quickly he continued “What was the thing that Sera chick said about me and “divine judgment” or whatever the fuck? That she gave me the “benefit of the doubt…”
You were a bit confused but continued listening, “I guess I should at least try to give you a chance, since you got me this sick ass guitar an’ shit.” Your face lit up, you about began to speak before you were, once again, shushed “B-B-But-” his finger tapped your lips with each repeated syllable ”-only a chance. If you betray me like those last 2 bitches then you’re done, got it?”
To say you were overjoyed would be an understatement, a smile quickly plastered across your face as you quickly nodded your head
“Alright good, so uh, what do ya say about showing me the best places to get a bite to eat around here, I could really go for some ribs right about now.”
“ I’d… love to, thank you Adam”
“Yeah don’t mention it Sweetcheeks” Adam quickly wrapped his arm around your shoulder and you two began walking.
Maybe you will get your eternity of happiness.you can only pray you do.
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pressureplus · 16 days
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Not sure if you have done it or if anyone have already requested it.. but I do like to see a headcanons (NSFW?) on the ovipositor of Sebastian. Like if reader finally agrees to let him pregnant them with his eggs. Kinda stuff like how would it feel like during/after breeding? does it will hurt? How long long does it take? How those eggs/babies develop? And how does the giving birth would be and feel like? Anything like that.
Btw, I love your headcanons and oneshots! <3
So glad you asked! I've been dealing with pain lately so Ive needed consistent care. As per usual we are writing, this one just happened to be finished first. Also, thank you for the compliment <3
♡Sebastian Solace Ovipositor Headcannons♡
Warnings: Describing this Non-Erotically, Implied Sex, Oviposition/Ovipositor, AFAB and AMAB Cannons (God Im Sorry), Pregnancy/Birth Vaguely Mentioned, M!Preg Mentioned
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Starting off strong, the moment you agree to have that mans babies he is all over you
Excited, yes, and at the mention of his Ovipositor being put to use he’ll be a little shy but happy to oblige! How can he not be? The idea of having a family almost makes him feel…normal. Happy and normal.
As his tendril is always sheathed, it stays very slick, which makes insertion easier. Despite his absurdly large length (he is well over twice your size) he doesn't need to be all the way inside your body to use said Ovipositor
During the process of actually putting those eggs in your body, it feels…odd. The best way I can describe this is like swallowing those Boba Pearls in drinks? But like…obviously not with your mouth
Doesn't hurt! The eggs arent too large, about an inch in length and diameter, but still not painful! You’d think they would be, right?
This is due to both the slightly muscle relaxant features of said slick, and the flexible nature of his eggs
Despite their size they can easily compress to be smaller if pressure is applied…too much pressure will pop them and make them no longer viable but yes they can get a bit smaller
They're like little jelly balls with a turquoise color
After the fact, you'll really just feel oddly full for the next day or two. These things are decently sticky and almost parasitic in nature so those that are going to continue to develop will be burying themselves into your body
Not a painful process either, by the way
Those that don't end up attaching to anything are not particularly viable as they can't take any of your DNA to make anything. So those really just have to be removed. This can be done decently easily with some pressure applied to your stomach and a bit of pushing
Produces 6-12 eggs on average, but may produce more or less, so you never really know how many actually stuck
The way these eggs develop is rather unnatural to say the least.
If you're AFAB then they'll attempt to fill your uterus much like a normal baby would. They also take as much ‘code’ from your DNA as possible, feeding off your blood for minerals similar to how Anglerfish pairs function
If you're AMAB things get a bit..sticky for you. They'll hollow out their own space inside you, kind of like a very small faux womb. This is NOT painful, but does leave a sort of dull ache like you've just worked out for a while. This small little wound will close behind the eggs as well so they won't be disturbed. They feed off you the same way as they do for those who are AFAB
This pregnancy can last anywhere from 6-9 months depending on how large the batch of eggs is. They do technically ‘share’ their meals so they'll all be ready to hatch at the same time. Think of it like an evolutionary trait for a better chance at survival.
Doesn't entirely feel like pregnancy, you'll feel weaker, bloaty, and maybe a bit sick mostly due to lower mineral/vitamin counts. But as long as you take some kind of supplements or eat healthy you'll be fine
You don't get particularly round or anything either, just a small bump that could easily be passed off as weight gain
On the Plus side for the AFABS, your body does not continue to have its menstrual cycle during these months. They release their own chemicals into your body/bloodstream for a better latch and less chances to be ‘rejected’
As for having these babies? There's conractions/cramping for sure and a bit of blood from where those eggs detach. I wouldn't call them particularly bad contractions, as they're slower and a lot less painful than normal child birth
The body doesn't have to prep as much since they're not normal sized human babies.
If you're AFAB, they'll come out the natural way. If you're AMAB, you're going to need surgery
Surgery is of course an option for both if preferred.
They pop their eggs and are ready to go the second they break, now for the most part the body can just absorb the nutrients in these empty ‘shells’ but they can also be removed. It won't cause additional harm either way
These babies aren't very big when they're taken out
In fact, they're all about palms sized. They're warm to the touch, covered in a bit of blood and whatever liquid is inside those eggs, so they're a bit sticky. But just fine to wipe clean
They’ll be oddly…blue and pale for the first while as they learn to breathe oxygen with their very small lungs. Don't worry, they'll figure it out. They look almost like normal babies aside from this, well, not including those that look more like Sebastian
They’ll develop faster than normal babies as well. Some may even be born with sharp teeth, others will get their set within the first two months.
They're already up and ready to go in about a year or less, as if they're made for survival like wild animals. However this will come at a cost. Your sanity mostly when your 1 year old is chewing through the casings of wires and chair legs.
By the time they're around 5-6 they'll be just a little smaller than the size of a normal human child.
As teenagers getting their growth spurts? Many of your children may end up BIGGER than average humans!
Overall your children will be different, as was the process of having them, but they're still perfectly healthy
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typing-catastrophe · 28 days
Text
Charles Xavier - only one bed (headcanons)
request: "gmorning! with deadpool 3 bringing around the xmen renaissance ive found myself once again totally obsessed w james mcavoy and was wondering if i could req an only one bed charles xavier x reader piece please ! i feel like theres just so much to be done w that trope, the mutual pining, the fluster, the rushed confessions, and ive somehow never seen anymore pair it w charles yet ?? i trust your vision completely, thank you so much and have a lovely day!"
a/n: thank you so much for your request anon ^^ I am also working on a longer piece (actual oneshot, no bulletpoints), so stay tuned for that and in the mean time have this :P hope you like it
💕 fluff
oohhh the temptation
charles trying so hard not to give in and read your mind
he is just so goddamn curious as to know what you're thinking about your current situation
because he can feel you laying next to him all tensed up and it makes him nervous
you're both idiots in love with the other, have been for a while, and both to scared to make the first move
you're convinced he isn't interested in you at all, and are too scared to ruin the friendship to say anything
and he is convinced he would drive away the only friend he made asides from raven and would end up feeling much lonelier than before
he technically is confident enough but at the same time doesn't want to risk anything going wrong or making it awkward between the two of you
when it gets too much for him, he strikes up a conversation which would end up in you two laughing and finally being comfortable in each others space again
when you tell him that you're having a hard time falling asleep at new places, he would offer to tell you about his research, because it helps raven fall asleep
when you both eventually fall asleep, he unconsciously shifts over and holds you close
you stir awake from the movement next to you, already dozing off again when you feel an arm sneak over your stomach and an explosion of butterflies when charles pulls you close
(that man needs someone to cuddle at night and you can't convince me otherwise. he's a cuddler.)
now wide awake and heartbeat going faster by the second, you franticly try to think of what to do next
when you try to scoot away, you're not only met with resistance but with him pulling you back and nuzzling his nose into your neck and hair
you lay there in defeat for a few minutes, enough time for your heartbeat to settle again. then you decide to turn around in his arms
you use the opportunity to look at him his beautiful facial features, all relaxed and peaceful. you'd never allow yourself to stare at him like this, in fear of getting caught
when he started to wake up and blinking a few times, you know you should look away, but you're so captured by him that you can't bring yourself to do so
so you're laying face to face with him, only inches apart, holding your breath
"hey... can't sleep?" he asks with a soft tone and smile
you shake your head the tiniest bit and a stray lock of hair falls into your face
he reaches out to tuck it behind your ear and lets his hand linger
even without using his powers he is almost sure to know what you think in that moment
so he leans in closer and asks "may I?"
you whisper a breathless "please" and before you know it, he presses the softest kiss to your lips
you almost whine when he leans back again
"you look so beautiful, darling" and "forgive me, we should've done this a lot sooner"
you couldn't agree more
sleepy, soft kisses turn into more intense ones turn into makeout session
so much suppressed feelings resurfacing, you can't get enough of each other
when your shirt hitches up and his hand grazes your bare skin, you let out a small noise of surprise and jump a little at the sudden contact
charles moves his hand away, not wanting to make you uncomfortable or do something you're not ready for, when you reach down and put his hand back, reassuring that it is okay for you
he doesn't mind at all if you don't want to go any further, he can't believe his luck of you reciprocating his feelings at all in the first place
if you do want to go further, that man will give you the best and softest, most loving time of your life
given that that would be your first time together, you would keep it simple and stick to getting to know each other and each others likes
first and foremost he would concentrate on making you feel good
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1-800-c3dr1c · 10 months
Note
GIRL I NEED A SMUT OF CORIOLANUS SNOW BUT LIKE IDK HOW TO EXPLAIN BUT A SEX POLLENNNNN
YOUNG! CORIOLANUS SMUT ONESHOT.
submissive! reader. dominant! coriolanus snow. female reader. reader is shorter than coriolanus. established relationship (boyfriend and girlfriend). aphrodisiac used in drink unwillingly (reader getting drugged because of it). consent (but technically not because the reader’s under a drug?? ..would’ve consented even if not under a drug). fingering. unprotected sex. mean! coriolanus snow (if you squint). overstimulation. ANOTHER WARNING, NSFW IS AHEAD.
requests are: open! please look at the pinned post for characters i will write for. <3 let me know if you’d like to be in my tag list for whenever i post anything related to young! coriolanus snow under this post as well, or in my inbox!
i hope you like this, anon!! i did change it up slightly, so that it’s an aphrodisiac instead! i hope that you like it, but if you don’t, i can of course rewrite it to fit the request completely! <3
word count: 2,431
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your boyfriend, coriolanus snow, was stressed. you could tell, even by the slightest of things. the pull of his eyebrows going downward, or the small crease of a frown on his mouth. you knew.
you wished you could help him, you really did. and at times, you’d pipe up and ask if he wanted help. disappointingly, he always denied your offer to help him, brushing you off while trying to sound nonchalant about it, letting you know that he could deal with it all by himself.
your boyfriend was a terrible liar, but you chose not to press on whenever he’d deny you of your help. however, it had startled you quite a bit when he had come into your room, a steaming cup of your favorite tea clasped in his hands.
“hello, darling.” he said softly, kissing your cheek and setting the cup down beside you. “i made you some tea.”
“oh! thank you, corio.” you turned to him, a bright smile on your face. “do you need help with anything?”
“no, i’m quite alright. thank you, though.” he lifted a hand to ruffle your hair, smiling back at you.
you found his actions genuinely surprising. he was never one for affection, especially due to how busy he always seemed to be. the problem was, you had no idea how he had gotten so much supposed free time. first he’d made you tea, and he was even talking with you?
“are you going back to work?” your voice was soft as you asked the question.
“hm? no, i have a few hours to spare. i finished what was most important, the rest can wait.” he told you, watching you pick up the cup of tea, softly blow on it, and then drink some of it.
you didn’t pay attention, but if you had, you’d notice that a slight smirk had formed on coriolanus’ face. he was up to something.
“..is something wrong?” you asked, noticing him staring at you.
“mm? nothing’s wrong, love. everything is fine, no need to worry.” he assured you, his head tilting just slightly as you continued to sip the tea. perfect. that’s exactly what he wanted.
“whatever you say, corio.” you shrugged, unbothered by it. after all, he usually kept to himself, and you knew that. it was fine with you, he would tell you if something was wrong when he was ready, and if there wasn’t? that was even better.
he simply put his hands in his pockets, watching you as if he were waiting for something. but what could he be waiting for? as your gaze wandered to his lips, you asked yourself this question. was he waiting for something from you? if so, you didn’t know what it was.
“are you waiting for something?” your voice was low, way lower than you had expected it to be. however, you figured it may just be sleepiness starting to catch up with you. and yet still, your gaze couldn’t help but linger on his lips. how peculiar, but it wasn’t very uncommon for that to happen, so you thought nothing of it.
“mm.. no. i’m not waiting for anything. i was hoping i could spend some time with you, though.” he sounded calm, way calmer than you’d thought he’d be. he seemed so sure of himself, as he always did. but for some reason this felt different. he carried himself slightly differently, as if he was on top of the world.
maybe he was. maybe he wasn’t. but coriolanus had told you plenty of times. snow lands on top. he had also told you that someday, if you’d ever want it, you’d be a snow, too. his wife. but you two were just getting into university, perhaps after your studies were over. for now, all you could focus on was work.
you had told coriolanus that before. that you weren’t thinking of marriage, or hell, even having children. however, for some.. unknown reason, these thoughts began to fade away. those thoughts became fuzzier, obscuring your thought process and no longer claiming it as your own.
..had coriolanus put something in the tea? no, he wouldn’t. he’d never do that to you. right..?
“corio..?” your voice was quiet, barely even audible to your own ears.
“yes, my love?” he replied, his voice softer than you’d ever heard it.
you couldn’t think clearly. disregarding your former question, which had been right on the tip of your tongue, waiting for you to ask it, you caught him by the collar of his shirt, pulling him down to your height and kissing him roughly.
you couldn’t tell, but he was smirking against the surprising kiss, before placing his hands on your waist and pulling you closer. he let out a low groan, a guttural, almost animalistic sound emitting from the back of his throat. “fuck, love.” he murmured against your mouth, his breath catching in his throat.
“i- i’m sorry, corio. i dunno what came over me..” you whispered after having pulled back from the kiss in an attempt to catch your breath.
he didn’t say anything, cupping your cheek. “it’s alright, love. promise, it’s okay. tell me what you want.” he murmured, his lips right beside your ear.
you swallowed thickly. “i need.. need you.” you could barely think clearly now. your head was spinning, your thoughts running miles a minute. frankly, you didn’t quite understand what was going on.
coriolanus snow had put something in your tea. that much was obvious by now, but what? you didn’t know. it could’ve been anything. you were fighting with yourself, knowing that it was a losing battle.
give in, give in, give in. your mind was screaming, and your hands balled into fists as you clutched his shirt. “corio.. please.” you were nearly whining.
“whatever you want, love.” he said quietly, carefully guiding you to your shared bed. despite not being engaged, you two did live together. it was much less expensive, especially with the plinth family paying off nearly all of it for you anyways.
he carefully sat you on the edge of the bed, humming to himself. “what d’you want me to do, darling?” he questioned lowly.
“f- fuck me. please!” you couldn’t keep your hands off of him. frantic, you tangled your fingers in his soft, curly locks of golden hair. he smiled at you, and if your head were clear, you would notice that it was more akin to a smile of which showed that he’d won. as if this was a prize for him, something he’d rightfully deserved.
“sh, shh..” coriolanus soothed you, tracing patterns on the back of your hand with his fingers as he hummed, using his other hand to begin sliding your shirt off of you. “i’m right here, ‘m gonna give you what you need, i promise. alright? just be patient,” it was nearly as if he was mocking you.
he knew that you couldn’t be patient. not in these circumstances. what a fucking tease. you thought it unfair, pouting at him like a child would when they didn’t get what they wanted. “but corio..” you whined out, evidently needy.
“don’t say a word. i’ll take care of you, darling.” he said softly, finally slipping your shirt above your head and smirking at you. “you’re so gorgeous.”
you couldn’t think of a coherent reply to that. your head was fuzzy, and it was obvious that your thoughts only consisted of one thing in its entirety. coriolanus snow.
he busied himself with removing your shorts next, before your hand shot out and caught his wrist. “not fair.. that ‘m gonna be undressed and you’re not.” your voice was quiet, slightly slurring due to what’d he’d put in your tea, which still remained unknown to you.
he laughed, such a startlingly genuine laugh. he hadn’t expected that from you whatsoever. “alright, love. go ahead and off my shirt if you want. unless you want me to do it?” he offered, his tone suddenly seeping with an utterly surprising warmness laced in his words.
“i wanna do it,” you murmured absently, already unbuttoning the shirt. he didn’t say anything, didn’t move away from you. sometimes you’d pause, smiling giddily as you traced one or two patterns on his chest when it was exposed to you. after a few minutes of you fumbling with the buttons, you were able to get the last one unbuttoned.
he helped you this time, and thank goodness he did. you didn’t know if you could handle not being able to feel him. he slipped the shirt off of himself, letting it fall to the floor in a heap behind him. he caught your chin with two fingers, tilting your head up so that your lips met his own in a heated kiss.
this distracted you, making him able to slip off your shorts and underwear without much difficulty. after he’d done so, you shivered at feeling his finger beginning to trace patterns on the inside of your thighs.
“corio, please don’t tease.” you whimpered against his mouth. he smiled at you, as if a kind smile, before carefully slipping one of his fingers past your folds. this allowed for a gasp to escape your lips, and you broke off the kiss, resting your head in the crook of his neck. he used his vacant hand to pull you nearly impossibly closer, that you hadn’t even realized you two could even get any closer until he’d done so.
“tell me how much you need it, darling.” he cooed softly, evidently teasing you with how his tone was. however, this fact slipped past your mind, and you didn’t hesitate.
“need it so badly—need you so badly! corio, please.. please, please, please, please, please..” you whimpered, letting out a squeak when he slipped another finger into you, carefully thrusting them in and out.
if in any other circumstances, you’d be blushing in embarrassment at how lewd the noises of coriolanus thrusting his fingers in and out of your pussy were. this time, it was quite the contrary. you didn’t care, your body trembling as you moaned out, pleading for more.
“need you, need your cock- please!!” you sobbed, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. this felt so good, so so good!
“nuh-uh. ‘m gonna have you come on my fingers first so that you’re ready, mkay? don’t wanna hurt you, y’know.” if you hadn’t known any better, you’d think he actually cared a lot about that. but he’d fucked you plenty of times in the past, this was just his way of teasing. of edging you on, making you beg until he finally decided that he’d fuck you once he thought you’d done good enough for him.
it seemed like your lucky day, however. he seemed just about ready to fuck you, and before you could tell him you were going to come, the feeling of emptiness in your core suddenly fell over you. you gasped, looking up at him with half-lidded eyes. “wh.. what was that for?” you choked out, shaking. you needed him! he knew that! why hadn’t he let you come?!
“i think that you’re quite ready, love. i thought you wanted me to fuck you?” he grinned at you, a mischievous grin thar showed he fucking knew what he was doing.
you nodded, desperate. you couldn’t let your orgasm escape you, nor could you even think about not having his cock inside of you. in fact, it was all you could think about. it consumed your mind, leading you to be even more frantic than you had before.
you tried to take of his pants, but he’d already beat you to it. he was teasing you. he was making sure to take his time, slowly slipping off his pants before slipping off his boxers just as slow. it was excruciating, and you whined every time your need for him got even a bit worse.
he leaned over you without warning, pressing his cock against your folds, opening them slightly with his tip, but not pushing in. “tell me if it’s too much, yeah?” he murmured.
you nodded again, unable to speak clearly, and that’s all he needed. with a deep breath, he slowly pushed his cock into you. inch by inch he sunk into you, and it felt like heaven. you let out a moan, and coriolanus groaned out.
he slowly pulled back, keeping his tip inside, before he thrusted back into you at a somewhat faster pace. he continued this until he found a good pace to set for himself, a sheen of sweat adorning his face. he was concentrated, letting out breathy grunts and groans. to shut himself up, he leaned down and bit at your neck, beginning to suck on a specific spot.
you knew what he was doing. he was marking you, creating a hickey on your neck. showing everyone that you were his. you were coriolanus snow’s, and he wanted everyone to know. not that you minded in this state.
you were a moaning mess, sobbing as tears rolled down your cheeks. you were shaking so bad, and to stop you from shaking any harder, he pulled you closer to him, whispering sweet little nothings against your neck from time to time.
over time, his pace became utterly relentless. it was nearly inhumane, and it felt so fucking good. you were panting, chasing the orgasm that he’d denied you of from before, and chasing back the air you’d lost.
“oh, fuck.. oh fuck.” coriolanus gasped into your neck, and you knew what that meant.
he was close, and so were you. “love.. love, please. come with me.” he groaned out, his thrusts becoming sloppier, his pace speeding up to the point where you hadn’t even thought was possible to begin with.
all you could do was nod, shaking as you let out a high-pitched moan, your orgasm crashing over you as stars blurred your vision.
coriolanus didn’t stop, however. he thrusted into you, helping you carry out your orgasm and allowing him to reach his own. with a loud groan, muffled by his mouth pressed against your neck, he came hard, pushing his cum into you.
slowly, your thoughts began to clear up. you could think a bit more clearly, and as he lifted his head to look at you, coriolanus spoke.
“are you alright?” three simple words that formed a commonly asked question, and yet you knew the answer to that.
you were perfectly fine.
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lovebugism · 2 years
Note
could you do some drunk Eddie blurbs or oneshots? Thanks! I love your stuff btw
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✶ ┄ DRUNK IN LOVE !
summary: "you're drunk, eds" / "yeah, super drunk. and in the morning, when i'm sober, you’ll still be beautiful… i’m just gonna be too chicken shit to tell you." pairing: best friend!eddie munson / f!reader word count: 3.8k warnings: talks of alcohol, getting drunk, and taking care of a super drunk eddie! barely proofread so pretend any typos are nonexistent <3 a/n: i'm learning it's next impossible for me to write blurbs. i get an idea for one and boom. it's nearly 4k words. thanks for the request, anon! hope you like it xoxo
( MASTERLIST )
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Eddie didn’t realize until he was halfway through his fifth beer, that he probably should’ve stopped at his fourth. 
He’d stumbled upon that finicky little fork in the road at the crux both drinks, a line he was toeing all night between blissfully tipsy and borderline obliterated. You can only really maneuver it if you’re smart about it, and in true Munson fashion, Eddie opted for the exact wrong decision.
It wasn’t like he’d ever prided himself on being a man of self-control. He was gluttonous to a fault, green and greedy at times, especially when there was free alcohol involved.
Eddie had been a grumpy little stick in the mud when you and him first got to Steve’s place. He didn’t feel like partying that night or sharing you with people he could barely stand. They were your friends, after all, not his. He only tolerated the bunch of them because you did. He spent the entire drive lamenting about how illegal it was — to be his best friend and have other people in your life you cared about the same way you cared about him. 
“That’s obviously against the rules,” he joked.
You only scoffed in response. “Obviously.”
Undeterred by his complaints, you drug him halfway across Hawkins with you like a storm cloud on a leash.
When you arrived, he found that it wasn’t a party at all. It was just Steve and Robin drinking together on the couch while Nancy and Jonathan stirred around in the kitchen and scolded Argyle for rifling through all the cabinets.
Music spilled lowly from the radio, a platter of snacks were laid out on the coffee table, and everyone smiled at you when you walked in. It wasn’t nearly as loud or as overwhelming as he’d dreaded it might be on the drive over.
Didn’t mean he was any happier about it, though.
“I don’t know about this,” he cautioned in your ear from where he stood behind your shoulder, seeking a familiar refuge in you once all the greetings were done. “We talked to everyone, can’t we just, like… go? I don’t think I’m gonna have a good time here, babe.”
Babe, he calls you, a nickname that’s left half of Hawkins believing the two of you were really dating. You stopped blushing about it some years ago, when the novelty of it wore off and it ultimately replaced your actual name.
You shrugged, grasping for a reason to make him stay. “Steve said he had a keg.”
The big silver thing next to the kitchen island didn’t catch his eye until then. You peered up at him, finding a sudden sparkle in his gaze. His bushy brows bounced and his pink mouth fell soft agape at the sight of it. Something swelled in his heart then, a distant and boyish happiness. 
“…I’m gonna try.”
He was pretty much a goner after that.
The beer was pretty stellar, but more than anything, the keg kept it cold. Eddie could barely drag himself away from the damn thing — the red solo cup hadn’t left his right hand all night. And when Steve let him handle the music, that was even better… Well, technically, he let you handle the music, but you sifted through his tapes and picked only what you knew Eddie would like — just like you always did.
Any other time, Eddie might’ve asked what the hell King Steve was doing with so many KISS cassettes, but he was already too drunk to think logically about anything by the time “Detroit Rock City” started playing. He stopped caring and let all the beer and music coursing through his system do all the work for him.
And while stumbling for his sixth refill with Robin, he concludes that he is, in fact, completely and utterly and unabashedly drunk. He’s still sober yet, enough to make such an admission to himself, but too far gone now to stop drinking.
He crouches slightly to bring the nozzle to the rim of his cup without much resistance. His tongue pokes through his tingling lips as he pours all of his concentration into aiming the beer into his plastic chalice and not completely toppling over onto the kitchen floor below him.
That’s when he spots you and Steve sitting on the couch, a little too close for his liking.
The brunette boy has his arms sprawled over the back of the sofa like he owns the place (Eddie’s too drink to remember he does, in fact, own the place) and your legs are delicately crossed and turned towards him, too enraptured in whatever conversation you were having to notice that your best friend had run off (you’d been trying to look after him all night, it wasn’t your fault he kept dodging you).
And it wasn’t his place to be jealous, he knew that. You didn’t belong to him. You could do whatever the hell you wanted to.
If he wasn’t so sloshed, he might’ve been able to recall that you don’t have a thing for Steve — that you’ve never had a thing for Steve, because you’ve spent your entire life in love with your best friend.
But you were too chicken shit to tell Eddie and Eddie was too oblivious to see any of it and it left the both of you in a permanent limbo of unsaid feelings.
So much so, that he once encouraged you to conquer the feat of King Steve one night, many moons ago. He thought he’d noticed the two of you being overtly touchy in the back of a dimly lit club.
Eddie was sober enough then to make fun of it all while still feeling every ounce of his misplaced jealousy as he playfully promised you that “you had his blessing to screw Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington.”
You should’ve known you were screwed when you told him that you didn’t want to screw Steve because “you had your eyes on someone else,” and he completely missed the brave, longing look you shot his way.
Eddie spent the rest of the night pestering you endlessly about your crush, while you just sat there, red hot and embarrassed about the whole thing.
Now he’s the one feeling like a fool, watching his best friend make nice with the dowager king of Hawkins.
Being without you makes the distance feel somehow wider from where stands across the too big house, feeling like a stray puppy everyone adores but never actually choses.
Robin taps him on the shoulder to bring him from his stupor before he can waste the foaming beer rapidly filling his cup, though there was no stopping the drunken war path he goes on after.
You and Steve giggle to yourselves as you watch Nancy twirl drunkenly to the tune of the Joan Jett, louder when Jonathan fights to keep her from stumbling over herself. The boy leans over to you, whispering a joke only you can hear, and smiling when it makes you laugh.
“Hey, hey, hey,” Eddie scolds when he stumbles up to the couch. “What’re you two love birds whisperin’ ‘bout over here, huh?”
The two of you blink up at the boy, surprised by his sudden visit and how much drunker he’d gotten since you spoke to him last.
He’s all flushed out, cheeks glowing red with the alcohol in his system, and slurring something fierce — the kind of drawled out garbles that only sound clear to the one that’s speaking.
“We were talking about you, Eds,” you smile without missing a beat. “Been missin’ you over here.”
Steve nods with a dumb, tight-lipped grin. “Yeah. You’ve been making friends with that keg instead of the rest of us, man—”
“Yeah, right,” the boy scoffs out a laugh with a bitter nod. He less than gracefully squeezes between your legs and the coffee table. “Scooch over, Harrington. Make some room. ’S too damn cuddly over here.”
With no choice but to comply, the two of you part.
“Scooch?” you hear Steve mutter under his breath with a faint laugh that has you giggling too. Eddie’s not drunk enough to miss the glance that both of you share, seemingly having some sort of silent conversation that’s left him, yet again, out of the loop.
He’s got a full on pout on his numbing face when he settles between you and Steve, losing his balance briefly before landing in a clumsy pile between the both of you. The beer in his freshly filled up cup sloshes over the rim and splashes into your lap. The alcohol stains the belly of your t-shirt, leaving it cold and clinging to your skin.
And it’s not as dramatic as the movies make it seem, where a guy spills a drink on a girl and something terribly melodramatic ensues. You weren’t trying to impress anybody, least of all with your outfit — hell, you’d probably stolen it from Eddie himself a lifetime or more ago. You don’t get angry or rush out of the room for a good cry.
Actually, you smile sweetly at him, with the realization that it was time for you and your way-too-drunk-to-function best friend to head home.
Eddie gets all sad about it anyway, though, because to him it really does feel all that dramatic. His face screws up like he’s just done something irreversible. His umber eyes glimmer at you with a particular sadness only a drunk person could possess. 
“Shit, babe… I’m so fucking sorry.”
“It’s okay, Eds—”
“No, it’s not okay. I’m sorry,” he slurs with the sloppy shake of his head. “Please don’t be mad at me, babe. I didn’t mean to.”
“No one’s mad at you, Eddie,” you affirm with a soft laugh, dabbing at the wet spot of your shirt with the bunch of napkins Jonathan (the only other half-sober person aside from you and Steve) haphazardly hands to you.
“I can give you another shirt, if you want,” Steve offers, already standing to retrieve it for you. “Might be too big but it’s—”
Eddie’s head snaps away from you and to the brunette boy. A cartoon-like anger coats his buzzing features. “Like hell you will, Harrington,” he tries to threaten, though the words come out half-jumbled together. “Won’t have my girl wearin’ your shit, Steven—”
You burn red hot at the new nickname, equal parts embarrassed and delighted as you stand from your position on the sofa. Suddenly eager to escape the situation, you reach for Eddie’s hand. “Alright, Eds. Let’s go.”
He accepts your touch without question, rising on swaying feet and forcing you to keep an arm around his waist to keep him steady.
He’s already forgotten what he just said. He has no idea that your heart’s just done a billion backflips for him. He focuses, instead, on the thought of a new adventure with you. “Ooh. Where we goin’ now?”
“I’m taking you back to the trailer, okay?”
Eddie rolls his eyes, suddenly displeased again. “Yeah, whatever… You wanna spend more time with King Steve, I see what you’re doin’—”
“I’m coming with you, Eds,” you laugh.
It’s like the switch flipped and he’s grinning all sloppy and stupid at you again. He tosses the smug look to the boy standing at his other side. “Suck it, Stevie—”
“Eddie!” you scold.
“You guys can just take the spare bedroom,” Steve offers despite Eddie’s teasing. “I don’t want you driving like this.”
“Oh, how fucking chivalrous,” your best friend grumbles under his breath.
“Are you sure it’s okay?” you press with brows furrowed in concern. “I don’t want to, you know, intrude or whatever. I’m good to drive—”
“No, it’s fine. Really. He should probably lie down anyway.”
“Yeah… Okay.”
“You know where it is, right?” he asks you and you nod
Eddie takes great offense to your affirmative answer.
“Wait, why do you know where it is?” he pouts down at you, figuring there’s something dirty hidden in the fact you’ve slept in your friend’s guest bedroom before. You shake your head and opt not to answer as you help him towards the stairs. “Why do you know where it is?”
“—Go upstairs, okay?” you shout over him, trying your best to stay patient. “I’ll check on you in a second.”
He lingers on the first stair and juts out his lip. His pointer fingers trails the intricate carvings in the wood of the banister while his glassy puppy dog eyes glimmer down at you. “…Promise?”
“Yes, Eddie. I promise.”
With that, he makes careful work climbing the stairs, hanging onto the railing for dear life as he goes. You watch attentively, prepared to rush to him if he stumbles, and able to breathe out a sigh of relief when he makes it to the top step. 
You turn away from the hallway of the staircase and back to your friends, who — save for Steve and maybe Jonathan — haven’t yet bothered to acknowledge the situation.
Robin is rifling through Steve’s cabinets for food, Argyle’s at the keg pouring beer into his mouth straight from the nozzle, and Nancy hasn’t stopped dancing the entire time. You’re not even sure if she knows the song.
“I didn’t know you guys were dating,” Stevie remarks with a smile. “No wonder he was being so… like that.”
You shake your head and duck your gaze. “We’re not. Dating, I mean— he’s just, like, super drunk.”
“…Really?”
“Really,” you breathe out a laugh at the way your admission make this face twist in confusion.
“I’ve just— I’ve never heard a drunk person talk that way about someone they didn’t, you know… like.”
A part of you so desperately wants that to be true.
Eddie’s never been particularly shy about calling you babe or sweetheart or honey in front of people — sometimes he did it just to throw them off. But something about him getting jealous over a guy you’ve never liked, calling you his girl to bat the believed ‘affections’ away, has a foreign feeling swirling in your belly.
You force yourself to swallow your hopes down.
“Well, you’ve never met drunk Eddie,” you tell him with a shrug. “The freak’ll say just about anything.”
You make your way up to the guest bedroom and find Eddie slouched at the top step. He looks terribly sad, pouting with his elbows propped up on his knees and his hands on his chin. But he lights up like a christmas tree all over again at the sight of you.
“What are you doing, Eddie? You were supposed to be laying down,” you scold softly.
“I missed you,” he whines, gazing up at you with twinkling, red-rimmed eyes. “And I got lost… And then I forgot how to walk.”
You try your best to keep a straight face as you help him up again, trying to ignore the way your heart thrums like a hummingbird when he leans completely into your side. 
You walk the staggering boy the short distance to Steve’s guest bedroom.
It’s as extravagant as the rest of the house, complete with large windows and expensive furniture and a thousand throw pillows on the freshly made bed. The entire room practically sparkles, there’s not a single crease in the bedsheets; it probably hasn’t been touched since the last time one of you spent the night there.
Eddie flops onto the bed when you urge him to sit down. He makes himself comfortable with ease, legs still hanging over the side as he throws his arms out, melting easily into the newly laundered blankets.
You navigate through the darkness, illuminated only by a subtle moonlight, to the seating area across the room. The newly granted privacy of the guest bedroom allows you to strip off your damp shirt. The wet spot sticks to your skin when you peel it off of you. The feeling makes you grimace. 
You don’t think twice about being in your bra in front of Eddie — he’s not even looking at you now — and besides, he’s seen you in less. You’ve been friends for far too long to care. Being naked in front of each other stops meaning so much after accidentally catching each other changing a half a billion times.
Leaving your shirt in a crumpled pile on the arm of the couch, you make the silent decision to sleep there for the night. Many a bed has been shared between you and Eddie, but he’s going to need all the comfort he can get tonight — the hangover he’ll have tomorrow will feel like hell, no doubt.
You look across the dark room at Eddie and find he hasn’t moved an inch. “Take off your clothes, Eds. You’re not gonna be comfortable sleeping in jeans.”
“Mm,” he groans in the darkness, as though in protest, already half-asleep.
“You’re already gonna feel like shit in the morning, especially if you’re sleeping like that,” you advise with a soft laugh. “Come on, Eds. At least take off your shoes.”
“…Don’t know how,” he murmurs.
You roll your eyes at him, even though he can’t see you, even though you do it all for him anyway. It was second nature to you, taking care of Eddie, and you do it with an ease that makes his drunken little heart swell. 
You start with his shoes, not having to untie them because they’re so loose on his feet. His jeans come next, a far bigger struggle because you do it with little help from the boy in the bed. His belt is strangely tricky and he claims his body feels too heavy to lift his hips for you.
But what he lacks in assistance, he makes up for in cheeky one-liners — “At least, take me out to dinner first, babe” and “If you wanted to see me naked so bad, you coulda just said" to name a few.
Once he’s clad in nothing but his Hellfire t-shirt, R2D2 patterned underwear, and hand-me-down socks that barely fit him, you maneuver him so he’s lying properly in bed.
You toss away all the pillows that are more for decoration than anything else, pull the covers down and over his body, and Eddie doesn’t do a single damn thing but watch. 
He couldn’t do anything even if he wanted to because his heart is so far in his throat he can’t breathe. 
You’re so unfamiliarly soft with him — sweet in your way than anyone will ever be to him in his lifetime, than anyone will ever be to anyone else.
The love you bathe him in half-sobers him and tosses him into a spiral of self-hatred. Why did it take getting drunk at Steve’s place to realize he’s been so head over heels for you he hasn’t stood up straight in years?
Drunken words sit impatiently on his tongue. He lacks the self-control to keep the hidden.
“You’re so beautiful,” he mumbles tiredly.
Your hands almost immediately still where they bunch the covers up at his chest. Your eyes dart to his face and it takes everything in you not to duck away all over again, when you see the way he’s looking at you. 
Eddie looks so soft, basked in a soft moonlight streaming in through parted sheer curtains.
His brown eyes twinkle with stars of their own. He gazes up at you like you put them there.
He doesn’t miss the shock that coats your features. Your eyes widen in surprise of his words at first, before your brows furrow and you shake your head to yourself in denial — like you’re not deserving of them. Like you’re not standing over him in your baggy jeans and five-year-old cotton bra after he spilt his beer all over you, taking care of him because he’s too drunk to take care of himself, doting on him like it’s second nature to you.
As far as Eddie’s concerned, there’s never been a sight more beautiful than this one.
“Stop,” you manage a laugh, still swallowing down that glimmer of hope that lingers on the back of your tongue. “You’re drunk, Eds.”
“Yeah. Super drunk,” he nods unabashedly. A distant smile hints at the corner of his lips as he gazes up at you like he’s trying to commit your features to memory — the angle of your nose, the shape of your jaw, the softness of your lips, and the way you’re looking down at him like you’re wondering if he’s real or not. “And in the morning, when I’m sober, you’ll still be beautiful… I’m just gonna be too chicken shit to tell you.”
You never thought Eddie would say something like this — not something so profound it makes your heart stop and especially not to you. You always dreamed that he might. And you had nightmares that it wouldn’t. That he would utter them to someone who wasn’t you.
But here he is now, loving on you and calling you pretty and hating himself for not being able to tell you that, and you don’t know what to do.
“…Okay,” is all you can say in response, nodding your head like an idiot. You force yourself to move on quickly, focusing instead on tucking him further into the unfamiliar bed.
It’s easier than concentrating on your racing heart that ticks like a time bomb seconds away from going off.
“Thanks for taking care of me, babe,” he murmurs quietly, blinking slow and heavy up at you. “I’m sorry… I know I don’t deserve it—”
“I’ll take care of you forever, Eds. You know that,” you interject without thinking. “And you don’t ever have to apologize to me.”
Eddie lets your words settle over him like the cozy blanket you cover him with. They bathe him like warm water, prickle his skin like they’re cleansing him.
The intent behind them means more than he could ever comprehend, half-drunk or sober still.
He rises abruptly, disrupting the cocoon you’d just tucked him into, as he works with disoriented hands to peel off his shirt. “What are you doing, Eds?” he hears you laugh when his head and arms get caught in the fabric.
You help him out of it anyway, tugging the cotton over him and gaping at him when he hands the bunched up t-shirt over to you.
“Here,” he offers like you’re supposed to know what to do with it.
“…What?”
“Want you to wear it… And to go downstairs so Steve will see you in it.”
You roll your eyes though a smile plasters itself on your mouth. You slip the thing over your head and pretend it's just to appease him. It isn’t the first time you’ve worn something of his, but this time feels so much different. 
“Better?” you tease.
Eddie nods with a childlike happiness.
You’ve always been his, in your own special way, but wearing his shirt? It’s like you’re waving a big, brightly-colored flag — a lit up I’m with stupid sign with a flashing arrow pointed right at him. It makes him grin like an idiot.
“Now, go to sleep, alright? We’ll talk in the morning. When you’re so hungover you wanna die,” you joke, still perched at his bedside.
Before you rise, you lean over and press a quick peck to the tip of his warm nose. 
You want to do more than that, so much more than that, but you know that he’s still half-drunk — and that he might not mean a single word of this come sunrise.
You’ll revel in this softness now, either way it goes.
“And, for what it’s worth, I think you’re beautiful too.”
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eveningepiphany · 1 year
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innocent | H.S oneshot
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summary: while on the couch, harry ends up with innocent y/n on his lap, and she gets unexpectedly very worked up over his thigh being under her, and he does something about it.
warnings: SMUT! thigh riding, dirty talk, handjob (m receiving), best friend! harry, and a whole lot of praise kink.
requested by @shqtteredcrystql1
a/n: i absolutely love this request. thank you so much to the lovely user above who pmed me with it. <3
———
You shake your head at yourself.
You had not thought any of this would lead to you feeling so suddenly.. needy. But it has?
You were sitting in the lounge room of the beach house you were staying in, watching a movie with Harry while both parts of your family had gone out for the evening.
You and Harry had opted to stay back. The crowded bars being not your vibe for the night, and wanting to just chill out at the house for a while.
The movie was not long beginning in the background on the TV, with bags of half eaten snacks resting on the wooden coffee table— not that you could see any of it, as it was to the back of you.
It started when Harry and you fought over the blanket on the couch.
Pulling it off eachother just to be difficult, and roughhousing until he proposed a quick solution when your fingers started prodding his rib cage as pay back.
“C’mere— c’mere!” He rushed out, hands up in defeat as you technically won the mini physical brawl. Even though you know if he really wanted to win, he would a hundred times over, given his strength.
You went still and frowned as he didn’t follow up with a verbal explanation, and just held hands out for you to come to.
“Why?” You said, slightly amused.
“Because.” He stated.
So you moved forward to him, his hands coming in contact with your hips, and seizing you forward.
Bringing you seated in his lap.
“I can’t actually watch the movie, H.” You flush at your positioning. His hands still bracketing your waist like it’s nothing.
Which you’re confused why you’re reacting like this.
This has never happened to you with anyone else. Only ever with Harry.
And it’s not the first time it’s happened with him. You get big feelings often when he’s near you. They come out of nowhere, when he touches you gently during conversation, or when he flashes you a dimple in his smile.
And this warm feeling will swell in your chest, bubble down into your stomach… and sometimes further. It will simmer down in between your legs.
Leaving you with this feeling of being hot and bothered, in a completely foreign way.
Usually it’s only faint. A quick, fleeting feeling for you. However you’ve never had yourself situated on his lap.
His strong and muscly thigh straight underneath you— mostly bare, his shorts riding up to leave the hair dusted skin visible. His tiger tattoo hidden under you.
“Sorry, want to turn around?” He asks with a teasing lilt in his voice.
Your head snaps up from where you were looking at where your body met his— your pupils blown out a little.
Your eyes lock with his, and your reminded that this is your harry.
Your favourite person. Your best friend. Who has pretty green eyes, paired chocolatey brown curls that fall over them, and frame his gorgeous face.
Who smiles at you like this all the time, like you’re also his favourite person.
“Well i did want to watch 10 things I hate about you, instead of listening to it.” Your hands are resting on his shoulders, and he lets out a chuckle at your gentle quip.
“Alright, darling, let’s turn you around.” He laughs at you, rotating your body himself— handling you so that your facing the screen, your back plastered to the hard wall of his chest.
The new position evokes a flutter from your core, one completely unexpected to you.
And you’re hyperaware that there’s very little separating his leg from the sudden heat between yours, just a thin pair of sleep shorts.
“Better?” He asks casually into your ear, pulling the blanket to cover your laps.
“Yea, thank you.” You breathe out, sounding a little airy.
Your eyes find the screen, but your wholly distracted by his body.
His thumb circling your hip, the gentle breath from his nose hitting the back of your neck, and again, his thigh underneath you.
Your heart is stuttering.
You’re so— confused?
He’s your best friend. You know that, and you’re not sure why you’re feeling like this. If it’s normal?
Another concern of if he can feel it. Feel you.
The heat radiating from you.
You zone out a little, eyes locked on the movie screen. Eventually your breathing evening out for the most part, as you adjust to what was happening.
Focusing momentarily on the comfort of your surroundings. Harry practically enveloping you, the feeling of the couch pillows warm and soft around you.
The gentle hum of the waves crashing from the nearby ocean, sounding through the cracked open window.
Which the breeze being carried through it is just the right temperature, and just strong enough to have the candle flames flickering on top of he TV cabinet.
There’s a warm glow cast across the room from the array of candles, and salt lamp turned on in the corner.
Everything about it was homely, and comforting. And you tapped into the euphoric amount of bliss that surrounded you.
After a few minutes, Harry moved, shuffling his hips back to prop himself up.
His thigh underneath you dragging your thin sleep shorts along your centre, the pressure of his muscles rippling as he adjusted with your weight atop him causing an unbelievably pleasurable feeling to strike through you.
A whine slips past your lips before you can even stop it. The desperate sound filling the room, and it’s too late to take it back. Because you know he’s heard it with the way he stills immediately.
Embarrassment starts to flicker through you hardly a second later.
“Y/N?” He seems to almost whisper from behind you.
“God— sorry— I don’t know… I don’t know why that happened.”
He laughs, the sound golden and dipped in honey as it enters your ears, “Did you just moan?”
“No!” Your skin is flaming as you deny quickly.
He pushes his leg up to press into you again, and you purse your lips together as you try so hard not to let a sound out, or roll your hips instinctively against him.
You fail with the latter of those two things, your body pushing into his leg before you can even try to stop it.
“Hm, what’s gotten you all worked up, darling?” He let’s his hands run up along the side of your rib cage, and is admittedly very curious to what your feeling right now.
He was surprised at first, but fuck, your innocent little whimper has him feeling like he’s got a point to prove.
And he wants so badly to have you come undone under his touch.
“I— fuck…” you lean your head back into his shoulder, unable to form words.
His eyes skate down the profile of your gorgeous face, and further along your arched body.
“Want me to do something about the heat between those legs of yours, baby? Can feel how hot and bothered you are.”
“Harry…” you sigh out as you begin to give into the situation, “please.”
“Alright lovely, since you’re rubbing yourself all over my leg, keep going.”
You frown a little— well it feels good as far as your concerned now. But your unsure how to just continue.
“Here,” he turns you around again, and for a second smiles at your flushed and flustered face.
All the sudden the eye contact has you tingling again, his face enough to have you a mess in his hands.
His hands guide yours to rest on his shoulders, and then his own slide back down to your hips.
“Now, just keep doing what you were before hm, rub yourself on my thigh okay?”
He watches as you experiment with the movement, rolling forward on with your body and moaning at the sensation that it evokes in you.
“Oh.“ you grind against him again, harder this time.
“Oh—“
You clench, and he pushes his leg up into you with a moan from himself as he feels your cunt clamping around nothing.
“Fuck, y’gonna tell me why you’re so wet?” He grabs the back of your neck so you’re looking at him.
“I don’t know…” you whine, humping along his thigh. The thin fabric of your shorts going damp from your arousal.
“Your thighs. Your hands. You.” You speculate aloud, watching his pupils blow out with desire.
“My thigh under your cunt get you all worked up?”
“Yes— yes!” You groan out, jaw falling lax as your clit gets caught just right between the shorts and his thigh.
“Baby, take the shorts off. Wanna feel y’soak onto my leg.”
You hardly hear him, still pushing onto him until he physically has to lift you up.
He chuckles as you whine at the absence of contact.
“Tell me, Y/N, Is this okay?” He confirms, pulling your leg from in between his, so now you’re laying practically bridal style in his arms.
“Please. Take them off.” You nod eagerly, back arching in his hold.
He laughs, hair falling again across his brow.
“Let me savour this okay. Look too pretty for your own good.” He mumbles, leaning down to let his lips meet the skin of your neck.
You groan as he sucks the skin into his mouth, and his hand skates up the hem of your shirt, running between the valley of your braless breasts.
“If you need to stop,” he licks over the skin on your neck he was just abusing with his teeth, “let me know, love.”
“I won’t, please keep going…”
You hiss as his hand wraps around your tit, letting his finger tweak the peak of your nipple before running it back down, past your belly button to settle between your still covered pussy.
“Where were we,” he hums gently, rubbing you over your soaked through shorts.
“Off, Harry, please.” Your sentences weren’t properly formed, and you scraped your nails down the muscle of his tattooed bicep.
“God, listen to you. Can you hear how whiney your pretty voice sounds?”
He says it in such a way it sounds like a compliment. The typical connotation of whiney being negative. But he says it like you’re an angel for it.
He peels your shorts down your legs, and audibly groans at the sight of your naked cunt in front of him.
“I should’ve known you didn’t even have a pair of panties on.” He gently taps over your bare clit, and the light touch still has you squirming.
He rubs you a little, allowing the pads of his fingers to tease your entrance. Not before man handling you back on top of his thigh.
Your blindsided by how amazing everything feels.
“Alright darling, use me. Grind that wet little cunt on my thigh to get off.” His words have you fluttering around nothing, and him feeling your bare entrance clenching atop his skin makes his already hard cock twitch beneath the waistband of his shorts.
His hand comes down to palm over himself, delivering a gentle squeeze to try and relieve some of the pressure down there.
You pant as you resume a relatively fast pace, aided by the fact your arousal is dampening his leg. Making it easier to slide yourself on.
“Mmm, god. It feels so good!” You moan out, hands coming to his shoulders to brace yourself.
“So does your pussy on my leg, baby. You’re so wet for me. Who would have thought my little Y/N would get so worked up over sitting on my thigh of all things.” He praises, hands coming to cup the swell of your ass
“No one’s ever— fuck— made me feel like this.” You cry, the stimulation along your clit euphoric.
“Ever, huh?”
You nod, “Ever.”
He could just moan at the thought. That his sweet thing is completely foreign to sexual experiences with other people. That you got all wet on his thigh and had no idea why.
The idea that you weren’t sure why you were trying so hard not to push your pussy onto him. And that you’re probably so sensitive down there, so reactive.
That last one has him struggling not to place you on that coffee table and fuck your hole with his tongue.
He only held back because the sight of your riding his thigh was indescribably hot.
“Good girl f’me, let me help you, make y’come all on my thigh.” He hummed, pushing his leg up to add some more pressure on your clit.
“Harry!” Your pretty voice moaned out as his hands came to guide your hips, to push them faster and harder against his skin.
The control he was taking over you was enough to make you almost drip. Because even if he was so gentle about it, it was insane.
He pushed your bucking hips down, and his leg up, making a delicious pressure that had an unfathomable heat simmer between your legs.
“I wanna come on your leg, Harry, please…” you’re pleading him, hips messily fucking over his skin.
“Yea, baby? My perfect little slut.” He tests out the nickname, watching as your whole body reacts with a quiver at his dirty mouth.
“Oh, you really do like it dirty…” he realises out loud, smirking as you moan.
“Look down at your cunt riding my leg, humping all over it.” He gently laces his hand in your hair, tilting your head down, “How about when you’re done, I get you on your knees and make you clean it up?”
Your mouth goes slack, and it’s baffling to hear such words coming from him.
Yet he could ask you to do anything at this point and you’re convinced you wouldn’t even hesitate before doing it.
“I will, I will!” You nod, thighs quivering on each side of his own.
“Cmon pretty, fuck,” he bucks into his hand that was stroking over his fabric-clad cock, “wanna watch you come. Hear you cry out my name.”
Your clit was pulsing along his now drenched tattoo, and you could feel your muscles tightening in your stomach.
The simmering feeling in your core that you had originally started with has turned into a pot that was about to boil over.
“Harry, ohmygod—“ you whined, falling further into his chest, hands coming up to intertwine with his hair.
He pushed his thigh up against you, and the pressure finally peaked, and you teetered on the brink of orgasm.
You were moaning into his ear, and he could feel your pussy clenching around nothing, waiting for that final little nudge.
“Good fucking girl, let it all go f’me.” He growls into your ear, accent husky, and the words zip straight to where you needed it.
You let out a loud moan of his name, nails dragging down along his shoulders as you messily grind through the pleasure.
He is groaning at the sight. Just as fucking beautiful as he imagined.
Your back arched, and he could feel your cunt pulsating around his leg. It was filthy, and he loved every damn second of it.
“Oh, god— harry, please!” You whimpered, your core jutting against him still, but now with slower more irratic movements.
“That’s it, ride it out on me love. Fuck.” He curses as you absentmindedly drag your lips down the column of his neck.
You slowly come to a stop, the stimulation too much for you now. And your panting as you pull back to look at Harry, and the mess you made atop his thigh.
You lock eyes with him, his hair is messy, and cheeks are flushed. You smile at him, leaning forward to place a gentle kiss on his also smiling lips.
You glance down between your legs, spotting immediately the glistening skin of Harry’s leg, and how his finger reaches to get a sample and bring it to his lips.
Watching, he sucks his finger into his mouth, humming at the taste of you on his tongue.
“Taste like a dream, my darling.”
He gathers some more on the same finger, bringing it up to your own lips, letting you suck on them.
“Mm, good isn’t it? Look so good with your mouth wrapped ‘round m’fingers.” He praises, eyes darkening at the sight of your lips sucking his long digits.
You slide off them, taking in his beautiful appearance again. How the warm glow of the lounge room light is casting over his tan skin.
You’re still a little muddled about everything that just occurred. And that the little crush that’s always festered in your head when it comes it Harry has just led you here.
Him being the first person to ever see your pussy, and make you come. On his thigh of all places.
“Thank you…” you flush, a little shyness coming out.
“Don’t get shy with me baby, just watched y’come on my thigh. No room for that.” He smiles, pulling you into his chest.
“Now,” he begins again, stroking the small of your back, “let’s go get cleaned up before everyone suddenly comes home to you still half-naked on my lap.”
You laugh a little as he pecks your cheek, “then we can come back to the couch, and rewind 10 things I hate about you and share some ice cream, m’kay?”
“And uhm, what about you?” You gesture to the tent in his shorts.
“Worry about that another time, alright lovely. Not tonight, that was all for you.” He confirms.
“It’ll just… go away?” You frown, confused— and a little embarrassed you didn’t know what would happen with it.
“Should mostly. Might still have a semi, since all I’m gonna be able to think about is what y’taste like. But again, you can worry about me another day.”
You shake your head, “i want to worry about you now though…”
He blinks slowly, “Fuck, well if you keep bloody begging me to get y’hands on my cock, I’m not gonna be strong enough to tell ya no.”
“Never, uh, done this before. As long as that doesn’t put you off.” You shrug, watching his green eyes flick between your hand and his erection.
“Don’t stress, darling. I have been pretty much about to come at the sight of you, I don’t think it’s gonna take much.”
“And for the record,” he rests a hand on your hip, “nothing could put my off of you. Especially when it comes to you touching me.”
You nod, slowly. Still a little unsure as you reach down to pull the waistband of his shorts from his laurel-adorning hips.
He lifts his hips so you can pull them down, far enough that his cock springs out of them.
Your lips parted at the sight, his flushed tip, with beads of precum seeping out, blotting along down his shaft.
His cock was as gorgeous as you’d imagined. Because of course a pretty boy like him would have such a nice cock.
Not that you have much to judge off, but if the smooth skin and the sudden overproduction of saliva in your mouth was any inkling… you would say he was perfect.
Your hand reached to stroke along him, noticing the lack of lubrication.
You put to use the gathering pool of spit in your mouth, and you pursed your lips to let some of it drop down onto his tip.
He had a whole body reaction as he felt your warm spit slip down the head of his cock. A moan sounded from him, and he sounded like an angel.
“Fuckkk, already spitting on my cock. Little minx y’are.” His eyes went half lidded, and he fought to keep them open. Just to watch your all too curious expression and your hands glide over his cock.
“Faster?” You asked, looking for advice.
“Squeeze it, baby. Then stroke it.” He directed, struggling to form the words.
Then struggling even more not to cry out as you did just as he asked.
“Y/N.” He hissed, bucking his hips up as you started stroking his cock with a moderate pace.
“You look very pretty.” You meekly stated, admiring the way his face has flushed and lips have parted all from your touch.
You speed up your hands, watching intensely as he takes his bottom lip between his teeth in attempt to control himself.
“My god, your hands…” He moans, arm coming to drape over his forehead as he rolled his hips into your warm hand.
You took liberty to swipe your thumb over his tip, and your eyebrows raising as his whole body shudders.
“To know you’re fucking my cock with your spit and your hand.” He sighs out, heat building in his stomach.
“Can I touch here too?” Your hand gently ghosts over where his balls are, and you’re not sure if that’s somewhere he wants you to touch.
“Fuck yes, baby. Ohhh god, I’m gonna come so fast.” He is moaning suddenly without care as you massage him attentively.
Dragging your hands back up to his cock, you continue to stroke and rub along him.
“Want to see you finish too…” you smile, also excited to see the way his body reacts when he comes.
“Cant wait to paint your hand in my fuckin’ come.” He pants, hand gripping the couch cushion near his head.
He can probably feel you getting wet on him again. Seeing him like this has you a mess.
“Fuck— any faster and I’m gonna come on your hand Y/N.” He moans, now his thighs being the ones trembling.
You fuck his cock with your fist faster, in awe of the way he moans out as his orgasm hits him.
Ropes of his warm come spurting out his tip, spilling down your hand as you keep up the pace.
Waiting until he whines with the overstimulation.
“Fuck, you’re perfect.” He shakes his head, blissed out from his orgasm.
Hazily taking in the way you lick a stripe up your thumb, where his come had landed.
You enjoyed the flavour of it, salty and overall pleasant on your tastebuds.
“Can I?” You leant down, wanting more off his cock.
“God, love— wanting to clean the come off my damn cock it tasted that good.” He praises you, letting your mouth gently slide over his softening dick.
You make quick work of the mess, and he remarks shortly, “fuck, gonna have to spend some more time later with your mouth wrapped around me. You’re like an angel.”
Once you’re done, you pull his shorts back over him and watch him smile, dragging you in for another soft kiss— regardless of whether his dick was just in your mouth.
“Alright pretty, let’s get cleaned up before you start grinding anymore on my thigh. Can feel you already getting wet again.”
“Yes, Harry.” You whisper, letting him pick you up and carry you to the bathroom.
———
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