Katsuki: The Duality Of Man Never Ceases To Amaze Me.

No, why do you say that? Your writing is amazing, I think it's more the fact that you don't have "request open" they probably think you write only your own writing and at your own pace. I didn't know we could send you requests until I saw you wrote the "he's a liar, open your eyes!" request so I sent you one🤭💓

Oh okay but how do we open the said requests ? Or at least how do I tell it's open? I just say it in the masterlist ??

Thank you for answering by the way! I'm happy you like my writing<3

Okay hear me out, Eddie nervous on your first valentines day together wanting to make it special and only knowing how to valentines from what he's seen at school and he panics and is very eddie about the whole thing 👀

please my heart almost couldn't take this. i swore nothing over 1k but nervous and panicking eddie being all cute?? yeah i couldn't help myself. this isn't edited, sorry in advance. no warnings, just fluff.

wc: 2.2k

He feels stupid.

It's the only thought ringing through his head as he sits at the Munson's dining table, scraps of construction paper strewn over the worn wood, glue stick drying out to the side and scissors digging into his knuckles. 

It had started as a prophetic vision after a few hits from his blunt; it was quickly souring into the most ridiculous thing he’s ever done. 

The high had worn off, Eddie had glued his fingers together thrice now (seriously, how was this glue stick approved for children?), and the end product…. Well, he hated it. 

The card was tacky. The flowers were uneven. He didn’t even have the willpower nor time to make a full bouquet as he had originally wanted to while under the influence. Pink glitter was now overtaking the trailer, and he’s never seen his uncle look so damn entertained. 

“Boy, what on God’s green Earth are you going?” 

Normally, the twang of Wayne’s accent would be comforting. But right now, all Eddie could hear was held back laughter choking up his old man’s throat, and a glint in his eye that felt a lot like a taunt, and he felt the farthest from comforted in a very long time. 

“Mind your business, old man,” Eddie grumbles, tongue sticking out as he tries to reglue a corner of a paper heart he had cut out, needing it to stick down properly. He probably should have purchased glue, in hindsight. 

“Where did you get all this paper?”

“I said mind your business.”

“Is that pink glitter?” 

“Don’t you have work?” Eddie huffs, grabbing at the Valentine card he was attempting to salvage, cheeks blushing more vibrant than any of the arts and crafts supplies spread about. 

He didn’t want to admit how embarrassed he was. He didn’t want to give anyone else the satisfaction. It was his own damn fault, really – he had offered for your nightly diner dates to be on him one too many times this last month, and entirely forgotten to put away any extra cash to get you a proper Valentine. And this was his last resort. 

He’d tried to convince the local florist to discount the flowers missing one too many petals for him, he’d tried to scope out the cheapest cards available at Melvald’s. He’d begged and bartered with every option in town to simply get you something for the day of love, and in the end, he’d simply fallen short.

So now, all he had was a palm full of gritty glitter and homemade items that looked worse for wear. 

One of the kinder ladies that lived two trailers down had been happy to offer Eddie some of her scrapbooking papers, throwing in the glitter for good measure, and he still had an old glue stick from when he’d built one of his custom tabletop maps for a D&D campaign. With five hours and a dream, he was now the not-so-proud creator of three handmade paper roses, and a card hardly large enough to fit in his palm. 

When he took a step back to look at it all, Wayne was right to be snickering on the couch over it all. 

“They’re going to hate it,” Eddie laments, glaring down at his creations, “They’re going to hate it, and I’m going to get dumped on our first Valentine’s day together.”

“Don’t be so harsh on yourself, son,” Wayne tries to genuinely comfort Eddie now, leaning forward to get a better look at his last five hours of work, “I’m sure they’re gon’ be happy that you just thought of the-”

“My life is over,” Eddie interrupts, walking over to the couch to collapse dramatically.

Wayne stops him, however, throwing up a hand, “Nope. You’re not gettin’ that damn pink glitter all over my couch. Go mope in your room.”

After a brief stare-off, a whole ten seconds wasted when Eddie could be wallowing in his self-pity, Eddie does exactly that.

He hopes Wayne is right, for all their sakes. There’ll be bigger things to worry about than just glitter if you really do hate Eddie’s attempt at a sincere Valentine. 

—

It takes nearly a full minute of knocking on the Munson’s trailer’s front door before Eddie opens it for you – that’s your first sign that something is terribly wrong. 

Your next sign is when Eddie hardly adds any enthusiasm into your welcome kiss, so reserved, as though he might be in a constant state of cringing; a constant state of preparing for the worst. 

“Is something the matter?” you ask innocently enough, toeing off your shoes and shifting your bag in hand. You’d picked up a few movies for the night, a variety of cheesy rom-coms Eddie expressed a slightest bit of interest in along with a few more up his alley. A horror film that neither of you had seen that looked to have a budget of $10 and a dream, and Labyrinth. 

The latter, you’d both already seen. Neither of you would pass up seeing David Bowie in his full glory, though. 

“It’s fine,” Eddie huffs out, still refusing to meet your gaze, “Want me to put on some popcorn?” 

You can’t help but light up as you follow him in his rush to the kitchen, “God – yes, please. I also got some sour patch kids, your favorite, and-”

You cut off when you catch sight of the dining room table. 

Eddie doesn’t glance back as he reaches up to the cabinet holding the stash of popcorn he keeps around for your movie nights, “And?” 

“Eddie…” you slowly draw out in a questioning tone, looking at the mess before you, “What, uh, happened here?” 

It’s an explosion of quintessential Valentine’s day. Pink paper hearts, strips of deep reds discarded messily. A shimmering glitter covers the table, and you can’t recall any DIY projects of Eddie’s for Hellfire that might involve that. 

“What?” He’s quick to turn around at that, and you watch as all the blood drains from his face, “Oh, fuck, I-” he launches himself back around the kitchen counter frantically, grabbing at any piece of paper he can find, “Shit, I meant to clean this up earlier, I’m sorr-”

“What were you making?” 

Eddie pauses all movement, glancing up at you in fear. 

You’re not even sure what he’s afraid of. All you can do is furrow your brows, twist your lips, scrunch your nose. 

Was it meant to be a surprise of some sort?

He swallows hard, standing up straight as he shifts uncomfortably on his feet, “I….”

When no words follow, you raise a brow, trying to silently encourage him to continue on. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

And oh, he’s such a bad liar. A pretty one, but a terrible one. 

There’s no sign of the stellar poker face you’ve seen him wear during Hellfire sessions, no impeccable cockiness to cover up the obvious. His wringing hands draw your attention to his knuckles, all the drying glue and glitter peeling off bit by bit.  

“You sure about that?” you press, grin slow spreading as you take a step closer to him, eyeing the mess he tries to shift in front of to block from your sights.

“Positive.”

“Has anyone told you you’re an awful liar, Munson?”

“I’m not ly-” 

You scooch around him effortless, dropping your bag in the process and making him yelp out as he tries to catch you. His arms are quick to wrap around your waist as you try to get a clearer view of what he had been so desperate to conceal, but even his best efforts can’t stop you. 

It’s all a bit childish from the outside. Reckless giggles, flailing limbs – even Eddie is smiling in his panic. 

“Let go of me!” 

“Then leave it alone!”

“I wanna see what you made!” 

Each screech between the two of you is overcome with laughter as he pulls you flush to his chest, caging you in and yet failing to cover your eyes. 

You spot what he was trying to hide, and all attempts to escape his hold cease. 

“Are those…” you start, a little breathless as you stare in awe. You swear, you could burn up from the warmth blooming in your chest. When his arms go the slightest bit limp, you have your answer before finishing the question, “Are those for me?” 

A small jar, one that had once held some of Eddie’s pick collection, now holds three handmade paper roses. Mingling petals of two different shades of red, with tightly rolled pieces of green paper servings at their stems. Two even have leaves, cut jagged and true to nature. 

Leaning against the small paper flower display is a card.

It’s a messier ordeal than the flowers, but you’re still prying Eddie’s forearms from your stomach in a rush to grab it. 

“Hold on,” he rushes out, no longer laughing as you get a hold of the card, “Wait, listen, I can explain. I just- I spent most of my money when we went to Benny’s for shakes last week, and I forgot I wouldn’t get any more cash before today, and I just-” he’s stumbling over his words, a mess of flying hands and wide eyes as you turn to face him, “I… I’m sorry, okay? I swear, they’re just placeholders until I get you a real gift for Valentine’s Day.” 

You’re hardly listening to him as you look down at the small paper, folded over fairly impressively to mimic one of the fancy cards from Melvard’s. It’s thinner, sure, but you’re mesmerized as you trace over the heart cut out of the center. It’s filled with pink glitter that clings to your fingertip as it passes, and you can’t help but let out a small laugh. 

And then you open the card. 

The outside was plain white save for the heart, but the inside is gorgeous. Hand drawn vines and flowers fill the empty space inside. Roses, mums, lillies – every flower you can think of is amongst the bunch. All etched out in ink, an ink you recognize from Eddie’s favorite pen, and every gentle line sketched out to make the larger picture sends your heart racing a few beats faster.

Underneath the glitter heart is a large bee, made with a speech bubble. 

“Placeholder?” you laugh breathlessly, biting your lip to stop from smiling like a fool. “You call all this a placeholder?” 

Bee mine? 

It’s so cheesy, it aches. 

Written in makeshift cursive, not quite as neat as it could have been, but clearly a valiant effort from the shy man standing before you. You can’t fathom how he’s embarrassed about this when you look up at him with fluttering lashes and a chest full of fizzling love. 

“I thought you were going to hate them,” he hoarsely whispers as he reaches a hand to the nape of his neck. 

“Hate them?” you repeat in disbelief, turning your attention back to the handmade flowers. “In what fuckin’ world would I hate these?”

You lift one of the roses from the mini jar, and sniff it on instinct. It should only smell like paper and glue, but it doesn’t – Eddie’s obviously spritzed his cologne onto the flowers.

The miniscule detail has your heart bursting. 

He’s still petrified as he stares at you, shrugging hopelessly, “I just know it’s our first Valentine’s together, and people usually go all out-”

“This is going all out, Eddie.”

You can’t imagine being capable of any more love for the boy in front of you. Genuinely – you don’t believe your bones could handle the weight of it, that your heart could take it. You’re filled to the brim with it, buzzing like summertime cicadas beneath your skin from all the vibrant emotions you have for him. For every blemish across his skin and every kink in his curls, for those big brown eyes simply staring at you now. Those knuckles covered in glue and glitter. Those lips that you can’t handle another second not kissing. 

And so you don’t. Not another second is wasted as you fling yourself forward, nearly dropping the paper flower in hand as you grab each side of his face, bringing him to you in a hard kiss. 

You hope he feels all that love. You hope the weight of it presses down on his shoulders, even if just a little, so he gets it. 

“I fucking love it, Eds,” you laugh into the kiss, pressing your forehead, “I- Honestly? I think this is the nicest Valentine I’ve ever gotten.” 

“Really?” his eyes pop open, pulling back from you slightly until you simply won’t allow it. You want him close – you need him pressed against you. “Well, shit. I thought you were going to hate them and break up with me.” 

“Me, breaking up with you? After this?” you parrot back in disbelief, shaking your head, tip of your nose rubbing against his through the action, “God, you’re an idiot, Eddie Munson. My idiot, but still.” 

He finally cracks a smile, and you lose yourself in the dimples that appear as he asks, “Does this mean you’ll be my Valentine?”

“Absolutely.”

its baffling seeing people on here being all shocked about how other ppl didnt have sex or do drugs or drink or go to parties etc etc in high schools like. sorry i was too busy getting bullied to do all of that stuff i guess. why are you surprised that there’s losers on the cringe loser website

Pretty when you cry

Ethan Landry x GN!Reader

Masterlist if you want to read my other things.

content warning: manipulative ethan; stalking; obsessive; maybe sub!Ethan; mention of murder; he's still ghostface; guilt trapping; worshiping; knife

English is not my first language sorry guys, if i did any grammatical mistakes lmk !

2924 words (7/05/2023)

"Hi" he said simply. As if we were speaking to each other for the first time, but in the same tone with which one greets an old friend. It was ironic how I wished for weeks for him to come and talk to me and when he finally did, all I thought about was running away. He hadn't changed. And so much the better. He was still so handsome. Today, he wore a white shirt and a kind of jeans in a shade between dark gray and black. After taking a brief tour of his outfit, I look up at his face: the most beautiful part of his person. His frizzy curls looked fresh, as if he had just washed them. This thought was confirmed by the smell of shampoo that came to me on a light breeze. His cheeks were tinged with a pale pink that highlighted the small and discreet freckles that sported his cheeks. His gaze escaped mine, watching the floor with a strange and sudden interest as he pressed his lips together in a thin line. He was embarrassed, no, dead of shame. After all, I still hadn't answered him. I've only watched him so far. And I surely would have continued if I hadn't noticed his shaking hands.

What am I supposed to say to him? I greet him too, I compliment him? I ask him directly why he came to talk to me? After all, the only times we had spoken was to get him to tutor me. Are we even friends? After he stood me up without any explanation, approximately two weeks ago now, we haven't spoken to each other since.

“Hi” I simply replied. Ethan scratches his cheek as he smiles nervously at me, his gaze flicking briefly above me to look behind me. The redness on his cheeks getting worse.

“You uh… Your classes, how are you doing ? I… Like, you're good ?”

To be honest, it wasn't. Which is the main reason as to why I was asking him for lessons, by the way. So he knows all about those four out of twenty that I love so much. (Wrong, I hate them, I just don't have the IQ to have more) How handsome he was. Earlier this year, I had this fantasy where Ethan, who I hadn't spoken to at the time, came up to me and asked me out. Later, having learned about his shyness, I dreamed of seeing him overcome his bashfulness to come and declare his love for me while stuttering.

"I manage. And you ? Are you able to follow the program?

Of course he did. We are talking about Ethan Landry, the best student in the whole establishment. He succeeds in everything. Except talking to people, it seems. For the umpteenth time now, he glances over my shoulder. His eyes alternated with bewildering speed between my face and what was behind my back. Finally, I turn to see the only person in the hallway besides us, Chad, watching us with a big smile on his face and thumbs up. He lowers his arms the second my eyes notice him and he puts his hands in his pockets, pretending to turn around.

"Isn't that Chad?" I knew it was him, Ethan's best friend. But I just wanted confirmation.

-N-no aha, it’s… I don’t know who… It’s not Chad.” His laugh was forced and it showed. He was staring at the ceiling, shrugging and laughing nervously. Too smiley to be true. If he weren't already incredibly uncomfortable and flushed, his friend's intervention would have caused him to be.

"Why did you come talk to me Ethan?"

Our last discussion was two weeks ago. We had seen each other on Tuesday for my private lessons and it had gone incredibly well. He had scheduled a session for Thursday, of which I was counting every second until D-Day. I was smiling just reading our messages over and over again. Then Thursday arrived after an endless wait. I headed for the library, as usual. My smile glued to my lips, impossible to remove. I was on cloud nine. But Ethan was late, yet he had never been with me. I waited and waited and waited but after an hour and a half I left. He hadn't sent a message, nothing. Since then, not a word has been exchanged. In the hallways, not even a single look had been shared. We walked ignoring each other, like strangers.

"I'm sorry.

-For what ?"

I had some idea why he was sorry but I didn't want to get my hopes up. His eyes water, he opens his mouth but no sound comes out. Ethan extends his hand towards me which I grab by reflex. To be honest, he was starting to worry me. Was he really going to cry? Was it because of me?

“Ethan, are you okay? I forgive you if this is what bothers you so much but please don't put yourself in such a state. Do you want me to walk you home? I'll tell the teacher that you are not feeling well.” As I said that, I adopted the softest voice I could muster.

The curly man holds my hand, he intertwines our fingers together. His tears finally running down his cheeks. A few tears escape him.

“No… he almost sighs.

-'no' what ? I ask, worried.

-I'm not feeling well…"

My concern increases considerably. Forget him which stood me up. His state is much more worrying. Without really thinking about it, my hand rests on his shoulder. I start guiding him to the exit but he seems to realize it. He plants his feet on the ground, shakes his head, then grabs my hand resting on his shoulder.

Ethan was keeping me here.

He raises his angel eyes to me. He was so handsome. His pupils were glowing. The boy opens his mouth but nothing comes out. Frustrated, his tears seem to intensify. He lowers his head, his beautiful curls falling in front of his eyes that I love so much.

"Ethan, you can tell me anything."

I was hoping he would open up to me a bit more. We were close, certainly not like best friends, but I considered myself loyal enough not to snitch his problems to everybody. Plus, I wasn't lying. He could tell me anything, I will help him as best I can. Ethan runs his thumbs over the backs of my hands, a slight smile on his lips. For a second, he seemed at peace.

“My love… he whispers and I almost thought I was dreaming.

But this peace does not last

-What ?

"I..." His lips quivered.

Did he really call me 'my love'? My heart was beating wildly. He sniffles and tries to swallow back his tears, to no avail. Finally, Ethan snaps.

“I…I can't sleep anymore, I can't do it anymore! he exclaims between two cries. Every time I close my eyes, I see your face. I miss you, I want to continue to give you private lessons, even my homework if necessary. I'lldo them for you. Everything, I'll do everything for you…” he had spoken so quickly that he was out of breath. His tears had not stopped, quite the contrary. He had let go.

His sudden outbusrt make me retreat for a split second. The curly man's hands squeeze mine tightly, as if to keep me from moving further away. I don't understand, my absence has affected him so much? Why didn't he come talk to me sooner, then? And since when does he feel that way about me? His words were excessive and I thought he was going a little too fast. He was so desperate that he saw my face all the time? That he was willing to do 'everything' for me? I thought that my crush was not reciprocated, worse, than he considered me as a simple classmate. If I expected that! But where does this outburst come from?

“Breathe Ethan, breathe.”

Like a child, Ethan nods. He tried to calm his breathing while I tried to slow my heartbeat. I knew Ethan hadn't had a lot of conquests in his life, but I never would have imagined him to be so dependent.

"I'm sorry, really sorry...

-Why are you apologizing?

-I left you alone, I swear I haven't forgotten you. I've been thinking about you all the while i was doing it...

So he was really apologizing for that. But why is he making a fuss about it? I had already imagined this scenario and honestly, I expected an apology, a justification and that was it. Why was he so affected? That guilty? His words got mixed up and in the end, I lost track.

- It's okay Ethan, it's not that important. Is that what stresses you out so much?

- What can I do to make you forgive me?

-Ethan, I already told you, I forgive you, it doesn't matter.

-No, he shakes his head, tell me.

Feeling that if I didn't take matters into my own hands the situation was never going to end, I decided to ask for a simple favor.

-Where were you that day? I ask, alluding to the day he stood me up.

-That's stupid." Despite his words, I give a nod encouraging him to continue. Promise me not to be afraid.

-Why would I be afraid of you Ethan? I ask, laughing softly. He's an angel, how can you be afraid of him?

-Promise me."

His fingers gripped my wrist tightly. It almost hurt me. For a moment, the thought that indeed Ethan could scare me crossed my mind. However, I thought of it too late.

-I was supposed to be only ten minutes late, and I apologize for that, but you had to be outside your room for me to get in it.

-What ? I ask laughing, not understanding where he was coming from.

-When I got in your room, there was a perfume that was not yours. But I had already felt it somewhere, on someone. And… I-I'm sorry that pissed me off and… I-I thought you were cheating on me and I was scared and… I cried but I kept smelling the perfume of that-

-Ethan, stop here, I don't understand anything. What are you talking about? I was no longer laughing, the strange details he gave me seemed too precise.

His tears flow, without warning, he takes me in his arms and presses me to his chest. He hugged me tightly, I almost couldn't breathe. His face plunges into my neck, which he was soaking with his tears. He kept saying he was sorry over and over while I tried to understand. Was he telling the truth?

-I felt so guilty for hurting them that I didn't dare come and talk to you. I was terrified that you would run away from me when you eventually find out. It was horrible. Never again. Never part from me again, I beg you. I'll die of it.

I felt his every word knock against the skin of my neck. He was whispering, as if telling me a secret. And maybe it was. I was praying that another student would come down the hall and see us but the odds were low, very low. Ethan had cornered me at the end of my class, everyone had left. The sun was already falling asleep outside the window. Panic quickly set in within me.

-Ethan you're crushing me! I wasn't even sure he heard me since buried in his chest, my voice was muffled.

-I thought you were cheating on me b-but… I’m sorry for thinking that, sorry sorry sorry sorry...

What did he do ? Who was he talking about when he said “having hurt them”? Where is the shy Ethan who softened my heart? Unconsciously, I start to shake. My arms try to tear themselves away from the grip he had on them but he was crushing me too hard; I couldn't move. His arms clung to mine along my body.

-I should never be mad at you again, ever again. Do you forgive me ?

That's when it comes back to me; the framework. Coming home the evening of the day Ethan and I ended our relationship, my frame was splintered to the ground. The shards of glass had been flying all over my room. The photo remained intact; a picture of me and my roommate, but the frame was dead. I hadn't given more importance than that to the situation itself, my window was open and then said roommate was at home during the day. I just thought that a draft had knocked it down or that my friend was clumsy: it happens after all.

No, it was him.

-Ethan, I speak in a shaky voice, please let me go.

-No ! he yells. You promised me ! You promised me you wouldn't be afraid of me!

-E-Ethan please….

- I'm sorry, i'm sorry !

Ethan, six feet tall, collapses to his knees in front of me. He buries his face in my stomach, his arms wrapping around my waist. He speaks in my skin, muttering countless excuses and promises. Immediately seizing the opportunity, I grab him by the shoulders and push him with all my might to the ground. Surprised, he let me go. His back hits the floor, he lets out a plaintive moan mixed with his cries. Without thinking, I turn my back to flee. But Ethan is strangely fast. He gives me a powerful kick in the shin which in turn makes me fall on my stomach.

Ethan is crying. His cheeks are drowned in tears and red. I don't find him as handsome as before when he slightly pulls up his t-shirt to pull a knife out of his pants.

"Why are you doing this to me ?" he growled, his face lowered to the ground. So far, he's let it go. But there, his energy had changed. He was a murderer.

I crawl on the ground, moving away from him, my eyes filled with terror. I'm gonna die. I'm going to die here, alone, killed by the boy I loved. Ethan towered over me, taking small steps towards me.

“I'm begging you…” I cried.

I was desperate, there were no more solutions. I thought, as I disappeared, maybe Chad would figure out who my killer was, since he was the last one to see me other than Ethan.

"You told me you wouldn't be scared..." he pouted as he crouched down on top of me. Afterwards, his actions keep surprising me as he sits on my pelvis. He had fun bringing his knife to my neck and caressing me with it. The coldness of the metal makes my hair stand on and shivers appear all over my body.

"Ethan, please take that away from me... yelling at him wouldn't get me anywhere, so I was begging.

- No, don't be afraid. You know very well that I would never hurt you.”

His promises, I wanted no more. I wanted him to leave me alone, forever. My hands were free, yet I no longer controlled them. They were completely flat on the ground. I couldn't lift a single finger.

“Do you want me to prove my devotion to you? the curly boy points the knife at him.

The sharp tip of the weapon is now to his throat. Ethan looks at me and smiles. His free hand lay comfortably flat on my chest, holding me firmly to the floor. The vision unfolding in front of me was horrific. I was praying that he wouldn't be able to take his own life in front of me, on top of me! I didn't want to see it though, my eyes refused to look away. I was terrified that he would plunge his knife in me without warning.

- You love me too, right? he asks, stroking my cheek with his thumb. Tell me that you love me. You love me so much, my love. You love me so much you're ready to die for it.

-Ethan listen…

-Answer." he orders.

The roles had switched. He had given me a position of superiority, adoring me, throwing himself at my feet for even a pardon, but he was sick of it. And now not even my pleas will reach him.

“Imagine how romantic that would be, huh? May the students meet us tomorrow morning, both dead and entwined. It would be wonderful.” His smile was that of a sick man. What more do you need, my death? You want me to stick this pretty little knife in my heart for you? That I tear it down and give it to you as an offering? Come on, tell me you love me. I know you do.”

Finally, I manage to close my eyes. His description had managed to repel me enough to allow my brain to kick in the survival instinct. Ethan laughs mischievously. I feel him move, all his weight crushing my body. His lips settle on my neck for a second.

“You want me to kill myself, huh? I'll kill myself because of you. All because you don't love me. How can you be so selfish? he kisses my cheek. Tell me you love me, my love. I need it. His thumb passes over my eyelid gently, making me open my eyes.

I knew I was stuck. He was one step ahead of me, physically and mentally speaking. He had me stuck. My eyes were red and swollen.

-I… I love you… I whisper, choked cries leaving my mouth at the same time.

-Where is my first name, pretty ?

And to think that I was dreaming of saying those words to him a few minutes earlier.

-I… I love you Ethan… The curly man's face lights up, a gaping smile erasing his crazed expression.

- There, it wasn't so complicated now, was it?"

That was my first story in english. please do not hesitate to gives me advices whatsoever, like if you think that the plot was too quick, ethan too out of character, not enough details, everything ! I hope you liked reading it anyways.

I am so invested ??

A plotting princess

P1

P2

P4

.

Link stroked your hair gently, staring down at your peaceful face as your head rested in his lap.

It had been so long since he had seen your face bereft of fear or hate or the intense look you had when fighting something. Seeing you through the eyes of monsters was like a weak bandage applied to a broken bone – it only healed surface-level damage and did nothing for the pain beneath.

Watching you from the eyes of monsters didn’t do much to quell the fire within him, but it was the best he could do given the circumstances. The infernal princess was holding him back, just like she had done all those years ago when all he wanted was to take you into his arms and comfort you. Dry your tears. Hold you in his arms as the world collapses around the two of you.

He didn’t care much about Hyrule or what little it had to offer – all he wanted was you, you, you, and while you might be a little afraid of him now and might hate him here at this moment, Link was sure that a few years with no one else for company would change your mood.

You’d learn to love him again just like you had done all those years ago when you chattered to him to get him to open up. When you bandaged his wounds and scolded him for being reckless. When you covered him in fights defending that useless princess.

You were everything he wanted and more, and soon, he’d be free.

Free to take you into his arms and love you until you could breathe nothing but his love.

“Soon.”

.

The Lynel watched you as you made your way down the North Akkala Foothill. It wasn’t in the usual threatening stance Lynels generally stood in when anyone encroached on their territory, and you eyed it wearily. The more intelligent part of you knew that Link and the Calamity were watching you through the creature’s eyes, and you tried to pay it no mind, but the shiver running up your spine told it exactly what you were feeling. You had just left the Akkala Ancient Tech Lab after buying a few bundles of Ancient Arrows to help defeat the scourge of Vah Naboris and were now just wandering aimlessly.

‘He knows,’ you couldn’t help but think as you glanced back to the Lynel to see it still watching you, posture stiff but not threatening. ‘Link and the Calamity know I came to get more Ancient Arrow, and they know I was going to Naboris straight after.’

Your hand skipped to the blade on your back; the creature made no move to attack or do anything other than stare at you.

‘I think I prefer being attacked than watched.’

There was no way you could conquer any of the remaining Divine Beasts – the Calamity was probably already prepared for your arrival, and you didn’t want to risk it – you could wait another day or so until you went up to do battle with them.

Taking out the Sheikah Slate, you clicked a random shrine in the Hateno area and braced yourself for the warp.

After successfully landing, you made your way away from the more civilised areas and towards Firly Plateau, where you’d make your camp for the night. The Great Plateau was another choice to stay at, but you couldn’t bear it.

The Great Plateau was where you had woken up after a century of sleep, and while it was beautiful and the perfect place to gather your bearings, you hated it. There wasn’t anyone there to tell you about what happened all those years ago since the late king didn’t think it was wise for you to know just yet – you never liked him for how he treated Zelda, but this made your dislike grow stronger: Who was he to decide these things for you?

The silence and isolation of that plateau made you feel worse, and you remembered leaving it as soon as you could, unable to bear the silence for a moment longer, and your fair land of Hyrule was far more comforting than the silence up there. Yes, the various wildlife and monsters up there spaced out the dreadful silence, but there were no people, no travellers, no friendly faces you could occasionally converse with when you needed supplies.

Now that the king was gone, there was no one else up there, and you didn’t quite fancy being the only Hylian up there, so to Firly Plateau, you went.

The afternoon had passed to the evening when you eventually arrived, and you barely had enough energy to bring out your bedroll from the slate and to start a fire with a bundle of wood and a piece of flint, but you somehow managed. Lying down, you flicked through the slate, idly taking note of what you had that would be useful in your fight with the Divine Beasts.

The one haunting Naboris would most likely be the most difficult to defeat. It led you to buy many bundles of Ancient Arrows from Robbie and Cherry, and you had decided to use them with your Savage Lynel bow, which somehow fired multiple arrows despite consuming only one. You didn’t understand it but weren’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth, as the saying went.

Medoh would most likely be easier to defeat, and your shock arrows and ice arrows would make it easier for you to close in for the kill, and your mighty elixirs would hopefully help you deal more damage when it came time for melee combat with the beasts.

Sighing, you returned the slate to your wait and turned to look up at the stars.

“The stars are quite beautiful.”

Jumping, you whipped around to see Zelda – Zelda, Zelda, Zelda – sitting on the log across from you. Your mouth opened and closed several times as you fumbled with what to say to her.

You had planned to say so much when you finally rescued her, but seeing her in front of you, a golden projected image of herself and not the real her, you didn’t know what to say.

You settled for staring at her, your eyes greedily drinking her form in as this was the first time you saw her in decades.

“I… They are beautiful,” you managed after a while, and she smiled at you, making your heart flutter.

She was still wearing the same tailored robes she had been wearing to the Spring of Wisdom a hundred years ago when the Calamity had burst free, and you felt less than her in your Sheikah Armour set… but that didn’t matter – you weren’t alone!

“I miss you,” you said after a moment of silence, and the blonde smiled.

“I miss you too.”

You scooted to her at her words and raised your hand, unsure of your movements, but Zelda moved too.

Her hand came to hover near yours, fingertips brushing yours gently.

She wasn’t solid, and you weren’t sure how to describe it, but the best you could explain was that it felt like walking through water. And she was so warm, unlike Daruk and Mipha, who were so cold.

“How are you holding up?” you found yourself asking, unsure of what to say, what to ask your best friend of many years. You couldn’t even remember the last full conversation you had with her in person other than the warnings she sent you telepathically.

“I’m well.”

You raised an eyebrow, scoffing at that. “Zel, you and I both know that’s a lie.”

Zelda smiled again, and it stabbed at your heart.

“It is rotten work, but it’s what I’m destined to do,” she said before turning her gaze to meet your eyes, “and how fares your quest?”

You exhaled heavily, reluctantly tearing your gaze from her form and staring into the fire and sighed, rubbing at your eyes.

Zelda’s suddenly solid hand cupped your cheek and turned your face back to hers, and you couldn’t help it. You broke down into sobs.

 You hadn’t realised just how touch-starved you were until her gentle hold on your cheek sent all the hastily but carefully built walls inside of you tumbling down, and you wept in the arms of the only person in Hyrule who possibly understood what you were going through.

Zelda’s arms around you were a wall blocking out the rest of the world, and all you could hear were her gentle, soothing noises and her heartbeat.

It was so strange that his projected image of your best friend had a heartbeat.

You wanted nothing more than to drown yourself in her heartbeat, the unshakeable safety that her arms brought, and the soft sound of her voice murmuring into your hair.

Eventually, your tears dried up, and you pulled away, furiously rubbing at your eyes.

“I’m sorry you had to see that,” you whispered, trying to make yourself presentable, but she only smiled gently.

“Y/N, you had seen worse from me all those years ago,” her voice rang with honesty, but you couldn’t remember for the life of you. Though, what you had gleaned from your conversations and interactions with the late king of Hyrule, you figured that the man wasn’t the best father even though he may have been a better king.

“Still, you came all this way, and I started crying on you. What kind of a friend am I?” you joked, and she smiled again, shaking her head gently.

“You know I’ve been watching over you when I can.”

You nodded, feeling a flare of warmth in your chest at her words. The weight of her gaze watching you occasionally brought much comfort to you, and it was so unlike the cold stare of the various monsters that roamed the land and Link’s hungry gaze that shined through the coldness of the monsters’ eyes.

“I always felt that you staying away from civilian areas was so noble of you,” Zelda’s hands came to clasp yours gently, “you were always trying to do what was right by others, never being selfish.”

You flushed, glancing away bashfully, before turning your gaze back to her.

“I’m only trying to keep them safe. They shouldn’t suffer for my mistakes.”

The princess’s green gaze hardened, and you felt a shiver run down your spine.

“This wasn’t your fault.” She spoke firmly, the golden light flickering around her pulsed brighter for a moment. “I know it, Mipha knows it, and Daruk knows it. The only one who doesn’t know it is you.”

You sighed, heart weighed down by everything that had happened. “I can’t help but feel it is. I wish I had known then what I know now.”

Zelda hummed, rubbing a thumb over your knuckles.

“I’ve spent decades wishing the same,” she spoke, and you flinched slightly – how could you have forgotten that she’d spent a century fighting this fight while you had rested. “But there’s nothing I can do to change it, and there’s nothing you could have done to change what happened.”

She was right.

You had thought these same thoughts and turned them around in your mind, mulling over them like you did when waiting for an omelette to crisp up nicely in the pan before it was ready, but hearing it for Zelda, Zelda, Zelda, seemed to confirm it.

Zelda had spent so long fighting, and who better to confirm those thoughts than the one currently holding the Calamity and Link at bay?

“You’re right.” You said eventually, and she smiled, warming your heart. “I just wish there was some way I could physically help you….”

“Oh, Y/N,” Zelda’s soft expression made your heart flutter as her hand came to cup your cheek gently. “Continuing to fight inspires me, and that is enough.”

Sitting under the twinkling stars with the one you cared for so deeply made your heart swell with hope, and hope continued to flourish as the campfire embers slowly died during the night.

.

Zelda startled, coming back to her senses.

She was back inside her and the Calamity’s prison and sighed gently, rubbing her upper arms for warmth even though it didn’t do anything. It was neither cold nor warm here, and it was always dark asides from when she used her powers. The only thing that broke in the darkness where the handful of disembodied eyes surrounding the fallen champion of Hyrule.

“I see you went to see our beloved.” Link’s voice broke the silence, and a coil of anger curled around Zelda’s heart.

“Our beloved? Oh please, you don’t love them.” She snapped back, barely restraining her anger, but it was true: Link didn’t love you, not like she did.

Link merely wanted to have you; otherwise, he wouldn’t have fallen to the Calamity’s machinations. If the swordsman had truly loved you, he would have stayed on the true path and courted you the traditional way instead of dooming all their friends and Hyrule’s populace to a miserable fate.

“Ah yes, because you know what love is,” Link scoffed, and she clenched her fists. “She’s not yours either.”

“Then-”

“She wouldn’t have chosen you,” Link taunted, but Zelda held back her fury – she knew what he was doing, and it wouldn’t work. Frantically, she forced the memory of comforting you in her arms into her mind’s eye. “You were only a means to an end.”

“Ah, yes, because you’ve known her for as long as I have,” she shot back, restraining her fury.

Think of Y/N. Think of her smile. Think of her voice. Think of Y/N-

“Why would she want you? Having to deal with the conformity of royalty and those rules-”

“What could you have offered her? The life of a housewife waiting on a husband whose constantly away? You and I both know how those stories end.”

That must have hit a sore spot for the swordsman, judging by his twitch.

“You’re acting as if I’d stay and play protector for you back then; I’d have done anything to make her happy.”

Zelda raised an eyebrow, “And dooming her to this fate is making her happy?”

Link fell silent, and Zelda hummed, thinking.

What exactly did the Calamity promise to Link all those years ago? The blond was always resolute, so what had made him fall?

A proper conversation with the man himself was needed before going forward.

Raising a hand, her power glowed, destroying the malice, maws and eyes around the swordsman.

“Link, please listen,” she began. “It’s about Y/N.”

He turned to face her head-on, both eyes their usual blue rather than one being taken over by malice.

“What did the Calamity promise you?”

Link scoffed, “You already know that it promised me Y/N after it took over-”

“Do you really think it’ll keep its word?”

Link fell silent, eyeing her as he turned her words over in his head.

“Where are you going with this?”

“Do you?” she prompted.

“Yes.”

“Y/N and I won’t stop fighting, ever. You know her well enough to know she isn’t going to give up easily. This story ends with your defeat, whether tomorrow or the next year – you know how this ends.”

Link stiffened, eyes staring straight through her, but Zelda continued.

“But, if you join us, I can guarantee I will advocate for your forgiveness….”

Zelda could almost see the cogs turning in his head and pushed forward.

“I’m not willing to let her go, and I doubt you are… But if we joined together….”

“Y/N would be ours.”

“Exactly.”

A/N: I have no idea what happened here....

Anyway, it's currently 4AM which is not gucci for me tbh so ef[josgip

@cloudninetonine @xynnia @times-bisoprolol @galaxy-sharks-and-bottled-ships @littleblackcat40 @vlastimiru

LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK PLEASE I AM STARVING FOR FEEDBACK E[FISGRJOPIDF

Dano!Riddler: G spot? Oh you mean gamestop hah yeah I know where that is

Honestly I don't understand a thing on this app

eddie sprawled out on your bedroom floor explaining in full detail of his role playing character that was supposed to be just for sexy fun time

you sit on your bed half naked with one eyebrow raised at the man still talking about how his characters mom died

𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌𝐒 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐄 𝐓𝐑𝐔𝐄 | 𝐬𝐢𝐦𝐨𝐧 𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | even though you can’t afford to break rules, you manage to with your own asset, the nerdy genius that created the zephyr. 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 | simon feck (knight and day, 2010) x fem!reader 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 | smut— handjob, loss of virginity, sub!simon, slight dom!reader, mommy kink 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 | WHY IS THERE NO CONTENT FOR OUR NERDY BABY SIMON IM MAD ANYWAY HAVE THIS | follow @cremebruhleewrites to be notified when i post a new story!

You had one objective for the night, only one thing that Roy had told you to do: keep an eye on Simon. Make sure he stays in the hotel room. He could do whatever he wanted, but he needed to stay there. It was similar to how Roy was supposed to watch June; “Just make sure he stays safe,” Roy had told you. 

You stood next to Roy as he explained to Simon the situation, and as he gave the younger man a pin that said Hall & Oates. Wherever Roy had procured that pin in Salzburg, Austria was beyond you, but your boss and trainer often seemed to do impossible things. He had only briefly told you about Simon— how he was the genius who created the Zephyr, how he was just out of high school and smarter than any scientist employed by the government today. 

You had expected a scrawny, lanky kid that had nothing going for him. Instead, you met Simon Feck. Six feet tall, ginger hair hanging at his shoulders, wire glasses perched on a pert nose, with the most pathetic excuse for a mustache and goatee you had ever seen on a man. Simon had been quick to try to rectify some of the information that Roy had given you. “I’m 21,” he told you on the train, over the sound of the hydraulics pumping. “I don’t know why Roy said I was just out of high school. And I’m not as smart as he says. I-I did come up with the battery, that wasn’t a lie, but I’m not Einstein or whatever.”

On the train, you and Simon had gotten along. He had a small iPod stashed in his pocket and, once he was finished with gawking and admiring the train and speaking to the conductor in clipped German, you sat with him and, sharing his earbuds, listened to music with him. He was funny when a song he liked would come on, he’d bob his head and mouth the words, and it made you smile. Then, as always, June’s presence seemed to fuck everything up, and suddenly your own presence made sense. Roy was the muscle, and you secured the asset. 

But the hotel was calm, and there wasn’t a lot to do. Sitting in Simon’s room wasn’t very eventful; he sat on one end, reading and listening to his iPod (Hall & Oates, no doubt), and you sat at the other end, trying to watch television but actually watching him. It was dull, truth be told, and you sighed. You had left a little space between you and Simon, just in case he didn’t like you sitting too close, and he looked up from his book. His cheeks were just a little pink, almost like he had been outside and gotten a little sunburn, and he said, “You okay?” 

“Yeah,” you told him. “Don’t worry about me. What’re you listening to?” 

Simon grappled with his book to retrieve his iPod, and he clicked the screen on. “Hall & Oates,” he said simply. 

“I figured as much,” you giggled, reaching out and playing with the pin on his shirt. “What song?”

Simon smiled softly as he looked down at where you were messing with his shirt, and he said, “Do you like Hall & Oates?” 

“Not as much as you do,” you told him, and you let your hand drop off and into your own lap. “But I know the big songs. Maneater, Rich Girl, Out of Touch, you know.” 

“You’re Making My Dreams Come True,” Simon told you. “I-It’s one of my favorites.” 

“That’s a good one,” you said, and you folded your legs up underneath yourself as you got comfortable. “Do you like all 80s music, or just Hall & Oates?” 

“Just Hall & Oates,” Simon chuckled. “Since high school. I’d be in my little lab, working on the Zephyr, listening only to them. It makes me feel safe, y’know? My mom listened to them a lot.” 

“I get that,” you told him. “I’m the same way with Elton John. It’s just comforting to me.” 

Simon nodded, and he pulled out one of his earbuds and offered it to you. Just like on the train, you moved close to him to listen, but something felt weird. It didn’t feel like the train anymore. Maybe because you were alone now, the energy felt different. Your thigh touched his with the proximity, and you watched his hand come down onto your thigh gently, almost as if he didn’t realize what he had done. That was the final straw for you, and you whispered, “Hey, Si?” 

Simon looked at you, silently prompting you to speak, and you pulled the earbud out hastily. You couldn’t. Roy could sleep with June all he wanted because he was Roy and he operated under a different code than you did. You could not do that with Simon. The heat in the bottom of your stomach betrayed you, though, and you couldn’t help but sigh. “I need to go,” you mumbled, but, before you could properly get up to leave, Simon grabbed your hand. 

“Did I do something wrong?” he asked. “You were fine a second ago.” 

“Yeah, I was,” you started. You couldn’t tell him that you had to leave because he turned you on. The smell of his soap was enough to trigger it, and you stepped back, away from him. “I-It’s not you, Si, I just, paperwork, y’know? Government entities run on paperwork.” 

Simon watched you with his big eyes, examining you, and he said, “I did something wrong.”

“No!” you told him quickly. “Simon, you did nothing wrong, believe me. Please don’t think you did. This has nothing to do with you.” 

“Is it because I touched your leg?” Simon asked. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“No, no,” you said quickly. You sighed, your chest heaving with it, and you looked at the door, where you had last seen Roy before he left. “Okay, it kinda was that, but not how you think it is. I… Simon, you’re just really attractive, y’know that?”

He looked surprised to hear you say that, his eyes widening and his eyebrows raising, and he shook his head quickly. “Don’t be mean,” he mumbled, and you sat back down, squeezing his hand.

“I’m not,” you insisted. “Simon, c’mon. Your big green eyes and your smile, you’re just so cute. I kinda… My heart races when I see you.”

“Really?” Simon asked. He looked down at his lap, and, mumbling, he added, “People in high school used to…”

You frowned. “I’m sorry, Simon,” you told him gently. “That sucks. People kinda suck in general. I was teased a lot in high school too.” 

“Most people have their first kiss by 17,” Simon told you, and he pushed up his glasses. He seemed to have a habit of fiddling with his glasses whenever he was nervous. “And here I am, I’m 21, and I doubt it when a girl calls me pretty. It’s just… It sucks so bad, being hurt like that, y’know?”

“I know,” you told him. “I’m sorry, that really does suck a lot. I-I wasn’t teased like that, but… Fuck them. You’re better than they’ll ever be, okay? You’re a bigger man than them.”

“A bigger man,” Simon repeated. “That all means so much, thank you. But I can’t help but feel just so inadequate. You know what I mean? It feels like nobody wants me, and that shouldn’t hurt so much, but it does. It hurts really bad.”

You shrugged, squeezing his hand again. “”I think you’re handsome, Simon,” you told him. “I think you’re adorable, actually.”

“You’re just saying that,” Simon said, and you watched a flush come over his cheeks, accentuating the tiny freckles he had on his face.

“I promise I’m not,” you said quickly. “In fact, I’d really like it if I could kiss you… Can I?”

“You…” Simon began, his flush glowing deeper in his cheeks. “I’ve never—”

“I know, baby,” you told him. You gently smoothed his wild hair out of his face, and you watched his bottom lip tremble in anticipation. “That’s why I asked.”

Simon readjusted his weight on the sofa, and he shyly mumbled, “I… I really like when you call me that.” 

“What?” you asked. “Baby?” Simon nodded, and you smiled sweetly at him. You had figured that he was a virgin, but his blush made it all the more obvious that he hadn’t ever felt the touch of a woman. “Aw, you’re cute. Can I kiss you, baby?” 

Simon nodded quickly, his shy nature keeping him quiet and mellow, and you quickly moved closer to him. Your thighs touched again, and his hand landed on your leg once more, and that fire returned to your belly. It was stronger than before, now knowing everything you did about Simon, and suddenly a different fire emerged. You wanted to ruin this poor man. You wanted to help him explore and discover himself. You needed to. You carefully leaned into him and touched his burning cheek, and you gently pressed your lips to the corner of his mouth. You heard his beautiful gasp as his breath caught in his throat, and he whimpered, actually whimpered at you. “Please…” he whispered. 

“Please what, baby?” you asked. “Use your words.” 

Simon seemed flustered, and you almost worried that you had taken things one step too far, but he finally sighed, almost lovingly simple and soft. “Please kiss me,” he whimpered. “Please.”

You couldn’t help but oblige his begging, and you finally pressed your mouth to his. He was soft, and he sighed as you kissed him, and it made your heart melt. Your hand on his cheek titled his head a little so you could better kiss him, and Simon made a soft sound as he finally kissed back. It was obvious he didn’t really know what he was doing, but his inexperience was cute. His hands twitched next to his body, and you smiled into the kiss before breaking it. “You can touch me, if you want,” you told him. 

“O-Okay,” Simon said, and he pushed his glasses up his nose. “Umm, actually, can we… Can we stop?”

Your heart sank, and you quickly shifted away from him. “Of course,” you told him. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable—”

“Oh, no, you didn’t,” Simon told you. “I-I just…” 

“What’s wrong?” you asked. “Are you okay?” 

Simon swallowed thickly, and he mumbled, “I-I’m just…” He paused and his blush grew deep, creeping into his ears and neck, and he added, “I-It’ll go away in a minute, I’m sorry.”

“What will go away?” you asked. “Si, if you don’t want to kiss me, that’s okay.”

“No, I do!” Simon groaned. “Y-You just can’t make fun of me, alright?” 

“I would never,” you told him, and Simon wordlessly took your hand and settled it on his pants. It took you a moment to understand what he meant, but then you felt him through his jeans. “Oh, Si. Are you hard?” 

“I-I said it’ll go away in a minute,” Simon stammered.

You chewed your lip for a moment as you thought. You definitely wanted to be able to help him, and he seemed like he would be open to the idea. “I could help you,” you offered. “If you’d like that?”

“Help me?” Simon echoed. “Y-You’d want to touch me?”

“Yes, of course,” you told him. “You’ve masturbated and stuff before, right?” Simon nodded, adjusting his glasses again, and you leaned forward and kissed him again. “Have you ever cum?”

“No,” Simon told you. "I could never make myself..."

“Oh, my poor baby,” you said gently, kissing him once more. “I’ll help you cum, if you’d like.”

“Yes,” Simon said, choking out his answer through a thick throat. “Yes, please, t-touch me.”

You took his hand and led him from the sofa over the large hotel bed, and you sat down first, kicking off your shoes and taking off your trousers and shirt. You figured he would be greedy for the feel of your skin, and you pulled him close to you and kissed him. You edged a little closer to him, pressing your chest to his, and you took his hands and settled them on your hips. “If you want me to stop, just tell me,” you said, and Simon nodded. “I’m gonna lay back and you’re gonna put your back on my chest, okay?”

His skin was warm against yours as he settled himself between your legs, and you took care to remove his glasses from his thin nose and set them on the table next to the bed. You softly blew on your hands, trying to warm them up for him, and you lightly reached around and touched his chest. Despite your gentle and slow movements, he still jumped, and you shushed him softly. “I know, baby,” you whispered. “Tell me to stop and I will.” 

“Don’t stop,” Simon said, his voice a little higher than before. “Please don’t.” 

“I won’t,” you told him. Your fingers itched in his shirt, tugging it up a little high to expose the happy trail of thin hairs on his belly, leading down to where his hard cock strained at his jeans. Carefully, you helped him tug his shirt over his head, and you kissed the side of his face as you discarded his shirt. He was incredibly thin, his chest pale with just the sparsest hair speckling his skin, and you gently smoothed your hand down his chest to his jeans. He sighed heavily, almost like he was comforting himself, and you kissed the side of his head again. “We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to,” you whispered, and Simon shook his head quickly. 

“I want to,” he said. “I-I’m just nervous.”

“That’s alright,” you said. “I’ll be good to you.” You were quick to undo his jeans, and you snaked your hand inside his pants and down past his boxers to feel the burning skin of his cock, so impossibly hard. You sweetly kissed the side of his face as you withdrew your hand, and you pushed at his pants, trying to move them as far down as you could.

Simon got the message, thankfully, and he shoved his pants down his legs, kicking them off hastily. He seemed eager, and it eased you to know that he did really want this. Your hand lifted to his cheek, and you turned his head to look at you as you sealed your lips together again. Simon moaned softly, deep in his chest, and his hands lifted as he turned slightly to face you better. You expected him to go for your face, just how your hands were, but he quickly pawed at your tits instead. 

“C-Can I?” Simon asked, and you smiled. 

“Yes, baby, you can,” you told him, and Simon turned fully around and settled himself just above your tits, and his fingers worked to push your bra down. You went to help him, but he did it fully by himself, and his mouth attached to your nipple in an instant. You gasped in shock, but you still writhed beneath him when he sucked hard. “Oh my God, Si…Yes, baby, just like that. Do you still want me to touch you?” 

Simon grunted softly, nodding as he sucked at you, and you licked your palm before lowering your hand down to his cock again. This time, you wrapped your hand fully around him and slowly started to stroke him, and Simon’s mouth faltered around your nipple as he moaned.

“Good boy,” you whispered, smoothing his hair out of his face. Each stroke of his cock made Simon moan and buck his hips up into your fist, and you loved seeing the flush in his cheeks draw down onto his chest. “Here, baby, turn around,” you told him, and Simon gave a high whine when you tried to pull him away from your tits. “I know, baby, but I’ll be able to touch you easier if you turn around.” 

You almost didn’t hear what your baby said in response, something muffled against your tit, and you smirked when you finally understood it. “Say that again, baby,” you told him. “Because it sounded like you called me Mommy.” 

“M’sorry,” Simon said quickly. “I-I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s okay, baby, don’t worry,” you told him quickly. “I liked it. Call me that again.” 

Simon nodded quickly, and you swiped your thumb across the sensitive head of his cock to elicit a sound from him. Thankfully, he did as you wanted, and his words came in a mumble as he keened back against you: “Mommy, please…” 

“I will, sweet boy,” you told him, kissing his cheek. “Stop squirming, baby, let Mommy touch you all nice.” Your hand quickened on his cock, moving just a little faster, and Simon’s head fell back onto your shoulder as he moaned again. His hands were twitching by his sides, obviously wanting to touch you somehow, and your free hand reached down to take his. Your poor boy already looked close to cumming, what with the way that his hips bucked up to meet your hand with every stroke you gave him, and you squeezed his hand. “Are you getting close, baby?” 

“Yes,” Simon whined. “A-Are you gonna—”

“Just warn me before you cum, baby,” you told him, soothing whatever anxiety he had, and Simon nodded quickly. “You’re being so good for Mommy, such a good boy…” 

“This,” Simon started, and he moaned as your thumb smoothed over the head of his cock again. “Th-This isn’t how I thought this night would go.” 

“Me too, honey,” you told him. “But I like the way it’s turning out, don’t you?”

“Yeah,” Simon laughed, and you let go of his hand to turn his face so that you could kiss him. His mouth was warm, already used to the feel of yours, and, as he kissed you, you could feel his cock twitch in your hand. “Mommy,” he mumbled. “I-I think I’m gonna cum.” 

“That’s it,” you told him. “Turn around, baby, I’ll let you suck my tits while you cum.” 

“Can I…” Simon began as he hastily turned back around to face you, his eyes zeroing in on your tits. “Can I cum on them?” 

You smiled at his boldness to even ask, and you reached behind yourself to undo your bra, and you tossed it across the room. “Be my guest, baby,” you told him, and you dragged him down into a kiss. He was open for you, your tongue pushing into his mouth in an instant, and he moaned into you as his own hand started on himself. 

“I’ve done this plenty,” Simon chuckled as he broke the kiss, and you giggled at him. “Never thought I’d do it with a pretty girl, especially one who saved my life earlier.” 

“You’re welcome for that, by the way,” you told him, and Simon smiled as one of his ginger waves fell into his eyes. “Your hair just won’t stay back, will it? Got a mind of its own.”

“You should see it in the morning,” Simon told you. “It’s all flat and it’s everywhere, it’s not good.”

“Maybe I will,” you said, and Simon’s eyes all but sparkled as he took in your words. 

“Y-You’ll stay?” he asked, and you nodded. He huffed out a pant as he neared his finish, and he said, “Cool. I’d like that.” 

“Good,” you said. “You gonna cum, baby?”

“Yeah,” Simon nodded. “And you promise you’re okay with…?”

“Yes, baby,” you told him, and you dragged him down into another kiss. “Please, Simon, I want it.” 

“A-And what would that be?” Simon asked, and you laughed. 

“Trying to be a little dominant,” you mused, and the blush in Simon’s cheeks grew deeper as he laughed with you. “Alright, we can try that.”

“Use your words,” Simon said, more of a caricature of dominance than actuality. “What do you want?”

The way that the same words had previously come out of your mouth made you laugh, and Simon smiled. “Cum on my tits, Simon. Please, baby, that’s all I want.”

“Good,” Simon mumbled, and his fist worked faster, hurrying to cum. “I-I’m… Fuck.” 

“Oh, you’re cursing now?” you laughed. “What happened to my sweet boy?” 

“Call me that again,” Simon said, his voice high with a whine, and you watched his legs and thighs jerk as he grew closer and closer. 

“My boy,” you told him. “Are you my boy, baby?” 

“Wanna be your boy,” Simon mumbled. “Wanna be your boy so bad.”

“You can be my boy,” you said. “If Roy gets to be with June, we can be together.” Fuck your code, you decided. If Roy could do it and not receive repercussions, then you could too.

“Yeah,” Simon whispered. “Oh, fuck, Mommy…” With one more tug on his cock, Simon’s mouth fell open and his eyes squeezed shut as he came. His cum spurted out in thick ribbons, landing on your chest, and the flush in his cheeks grew deeper still as he moaned. His breathing hitched in his chest as he gave you his release, and he finally fell down on top of you, exhausted and spent. You couldn’t help but smile in his mess of hair, and you kissed his temple. 

“Good boy,” you told him. “You’re my best boy, Si.” 

“Thank you, Mommy.” 

You were thankful that you and Simon were quick to shower and redress because, not even an hour later, Roy came into the room unannounced. Simon had fallen asleep in bed after his shower, wearing just his boxers and little white wife pleaser, and you had settled yourself back on the sofa, where everything started. 

“Anything eventful happen while I was gone?” Roy asked.

You shrugged, looking from the television to where Simon slept. “Nothing,” you told him. 

“What did you do?” Roy asked, sitting next to you. 

“Oh, you know,” you started, and laughed. “We fucked.”

Roy rolled his eyes. “Whatever, you’re making fun of me, I see it,” he said. 

Then, from across the room, you heard the high whine of your best boy, and your body froze as he spoke: “Come back to bed, Mommy, m’cold.”