#I told them if they liked the shows I would suggest more and maybe even thai ones
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【 v. plated perfection 】
summary: now that yuu was better, they still had nothing to do. that is, until they heard the cheerful tune of a certain white haired maid floating down the halls… maybe they should go see what kalim is up to.
word count: 1.3k
author’s note: kalim’s part !! i really wanted to do the whole shoujo manga cliche w/ this one so i hope you enjoy ^^
[ the perfect debutante series | or read on ao3 (coming soon) ]
There wasn't much left to do for Yuu when they finally got permission to start working again. (That was an arduous process on its own.) It appeared that Azul, Jade, Riddle, and even Jamil had pitched in to take care of any last-minute preparations.
Now that everything was decided, the previously fast-approaching ball seemed to approach at a snail's pace. On top of that, Yuu had even more free time than usual because the Duke had taken over their work to "give them more time to plan". They did come up with an idea for something special at the Debutante, but it was undergoing some final review from the head butler, so it was a waiting game.
That was why they were strolling the halls, looking for something that they could do. A cheerful tune floated down the halls catching Yuu's ear. They instantly recognized the singer's voice, approaching the open door carefully.
Inside the grand room was Kalim, silverware and dishes spread out in front of him. The silver haired maid looked more put together than usual, his short skirt fluttering over stockinged legs as he spun. A white and gold bandana laid over his silvery hair, ribbons trailing down his neck.
"A whole new– Master?!"
Yuu suppressed a laugh when Kalim finally noticed them, "Hello Kalim, that was a nice song you were singing."
"Oh, I think so too! It's a classical ballad from Scalding Sands. But, Master," The maid blinked, his earrings clinking when he tilted his head. "What brings you here?"
"I was bored." And wasn't that the truth? It was easy to be a little more unfiltered with Kalim. Red eyes sparkled knowingly at their words.
"Hmm, then Master," Kalim very gently grabbed a plate. "What do you think about this plate?"
The plate was...shiny. So shiny, in fact, that Yuu felt a bit dazed, "Er, why did you pick that one out?"
"Well," Kalim set the plate aside. "Jamil and Azul told me to pick something perfect. It's Master's debutante after all!
Kalim started listing on his fingers, "They said, 'pick something that shows off the dukedom's opulence, elegance,' and..."
"Humility?" If it was those two that gave Kalim advice, they would know a thing or two about not going overboard on the flair.
"Yes! Something like that," Kalim pouted. "But it seems that this set isn't to Master's liking." They could see the metaphorical puppy ears droop as he picked up the plate, going back to the display cases.
"It's only a little bit too shiny," Yuu said quickly, trying to soothe Kalim's mood. "There are plenty of other options."
"Theb how about this one?" Kalim picked up a dish with flowery vines adorning its rim. The gold tipped edge made it look all that elegant. "I think it's very pretty."
"Hmm, but I don't think it would fit with the interior decor of the ball," Yuu offered. "It would be very nice to use for the gardens area, but the plates should be uniform."
A thoughtful look crossed Kalim's face, "How about using it as serving plates? It would also make it easier for the chefs if they knew which plates would go to the hall and which will go to the garden."
"That's very thoughtful of you," Yuu said, and Kalim all but beamed at the compliment.
"I heard Jamil complaining about it before," Kalim said, taking out some serving plates. "One of the times that he was helping out at a party my Baba held, the servants weren't given clear instructions on which food was for which hall and it was a mess."
"Okay, now we have some flowery serving plates and trays!" Kalim dusted off his skirts. "Do you have any suggestions, Master?"
"How about choosing something with Night Raven colors?" Yuu took a seat on the bench beside the tray of plates.
Kalim perked up at that, "That's a great idea! The grey plates are somewhere on this shelf..." The silver-haired maid crouched, reaching for another plate, "This one seems very Night Raven colors." The plates had a grey base, and symmetric white lines crisscrossing to create an intricate pattern.
It was certainly an elegant choice, "That's a bit..."
"...too serious," Kalim concluded, sliding the plate back to its spot. "I guess I'll look at the top shelves."
They watched as Kalim dragged a rolling wooden ladder toward the shelf, "Don't forget, to lock the wheels." Yuu stood up, approaching the shelf as Kalim started climbing the ladder. He made it to the platform, opening the doors to the cabinet.
"It's alright Master, I've been doing this all morning," Kalim called out, as Yuu braced an arm against the ladder. Suddenly, Kalim shouted, "Oh! I found the perfect one!"
Kalim spun in his excitement and that was when it happened. Yuu could do nothing but watch as Kalim's body tilted unnaturally to the right, and—
Yuu lunged forward.
It was instinct, and they could barely think before their back was hitting the ground. A burst of pain hit their shoulder as they rolled before finally coming to a stop.
Their chest rose and fell, the blood rushing in their ears. Kalim's weight was keenly on top of them. That much they could figure out. Yuu pried open their eyes, their chest feeling stifled when—
Oh. Kalim's eyes were such a startling shade of red. Yuu had never seen his eyes that close before. The maid's head jerked back, his earrings chimed at the action. His ribbon brushed against their neck. The sensation was strange. A little ticklish, making them huff out a short breath.
Kalim blinked, his mouth falling open. He reeled backward with a shout and they winced as they heard another thump. Yuu sat up, gingerly touching their shoulder. Kalim was still lying on the ground, his skirts in disarray, still seemingly shocked.
And then Kalim shot up, hands clasping their own, "Master! This– I'm so– this maid apologizes for such a blunder, the ladder was— I-I should've been more careful, but— Oh, the others will kill me if they—"
“The others won't find out," Yuu reassured, glancing at the spotless floor. "None of the plates are broken, and we are both fine, save for our clothes."
"But—" Kalim seemed to sputter, hands gesturing wildly. "But Master, you—"
"Instead of arguing, why don't you show me the plate you found?" Yuu stood, dragging Kalim with them.
Kalim looked conflicted, his stare swinging between the cabinet and them, "Still, you... Master shouldn't do anything dangerous like that again. Promise?”
“I promise,” Yuu nodded toward the shelf. “Let’s see the plate that made you so excited.”
Kalim climbed up the ladder— but not before double-checking all of the wheels to the ladder— before returning with a white plate, with grey flowers and gold patterns lining the border, “Isn’t it perfect?”
“It is,” Yuu agreed, taking the plate into their hands. “You found the perfect plate.” Kalim pumped his fists in the air, before going back to grab the rest of the set. They grinned at Kalim’s quite antics, nodding along to the happy tune he was humming as he placed the plates onto the cart.
“Should we go have a treat to celebrate?” Yuu suggested, and Kalim’s eyes grew even more shinier than before, his previous mood forgotten.
“Oh! Jamil was cooking up some tester desserts last night!” Kalim gushed, grabbing their hand. “Let’s go and ask him for the rest!” Yuu laughed as they were hurriedly led down the hallway. They had all but abandoned the plates there, but oh well. Maybe having fun and letting loose with Kalim was exactly what they needed before the debutante. (And sweets. Sweets made everyone’s days feel better, right?)
thank you for reading ^^ if you’d like to read more, check out my masterlist ! like the art ? look at more of dumple's works on insta !
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#/trau writes#kalim my boy <33#kalim al asim#twisted wonderland#twst#twisted wonderland x reader#kalim al asim x reader#twst x reader
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So I may have just sent several Asian ql recommendations to someone IN REAL LIFE for the first time. Someone who I work with. Who is younger than me. That I line manage. (They told me they were poly a few weeks ago, and they're from that area of the world and were curious about the shows, so I figured there was no harm...). I'll report back if I get a response from them 😬
#taiwanese bl#korean bl#ql drama#the shows I suggested were:#history 3: trapped#about youth#be loved in house: i do#my tooth your love#(because they speak mandarin)#and also:#semantic error#eighth sense#to my star#she makes my heart flutter#I told them if they liked the shows I would suggest more and maybe even thai ones#but I need to ease them into the genre first 😂
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Competing With Gods
Luke Castellan x Aphrodite!Reader, Apollo x uninterested!Reader
Request: Hi could you write luke castellan x reader, where Luke gets jealous of a guy who tries with y/n? How would he react if y/n is at the game? Thank you
Summary: When Apollo is sent to camp as a punishment, he sets his sights on Luke's girlfriend.
Warning: Fighting, jealousy, making out, the slightest allusions to/implied smut, Apollo being a dick
Word Count: 3k
Masterlist
A/N So instead of another camper or whatever, I’m making the other guy Apollo.
Apollo crashed into the ground of Camp Half-Blood. Right in the middle of all the cabins. Great. He briefly cursed Zeus for this. He was being punished for flirting with a nymph the big guy was interested in. And when Apollo had told his father to maybe focus on his wife, Zeus banished him to Camp Half-Blood for a few weeks as a “warning.”
The Half-Bloods began to peek out of their cabins but one girl was already rushing over. Her hair fell over her shoulder so nicely as she kneeled over him. Okay, maybe camp wouldn’t be so bad. She gave him a concerned look. “Are you alright?”
“Now that you’re here,” he immediately started flirting. He enjoyed the way she immediately became flustered and jumped to his feet. She looked up at him in bewilderment. She saw him fall. She wasn’t a daughter of Apollo but he should have been suffering from at least a few broken bones. “I’m Apollo,” he clarified with a proud smirk. By now all the other campers within the vicinity were near enough to hear and kneeled. The girl did too, kneeling with a lowered head. He reached out a hand to her. She took it hesitantly, standing up. “Who are you, gorgeous?”
She became further embarrassed. How do I bring up Luke? She briefly wondered. “Y/N. Daughter of Aphrodite.”
“I should have known,” the god flirted. “What with those mesmerizing eyes.”
“Lord Apollo,” a voice interrupted him. He turned, finding Chiron trotting over. “My apologies, I was just notified of your arrival.”
“No worries,” the god smiled. The nice thing about not being around gods is that you get called things like Lord.
“Please,” Chiron began, gesturing over to a big house, “let me show you around. Your father has a few requests for you whilst here.”
“Of course he does,” he rolled his eyes. He turned back to the girl. “I’ll see you around, gorgeous,” he winked.
As he left all the campers were left in shock. Especially Y/N. And even more so, her boyfriend. Luke went up to her, finding her still in astonishment. “Sooo… that was weird,” he began, trying to not show his jealousy.
“Yeah,” she breathed. “Was Apollo just flirting with me?”
“Yes!” Silena gushed as she ran up to her best friend/half-sister. “Oh my gods, a god is interested in you!” She then seemed to notice Luke and remember their relationship. “Oh- uh. Sorry, Luke.”
He just gave her a tight lipped smile.
“Oh my gods, what am I gonna do?” Y/N asked, clearly stressed out.
Luke shrugged, again trying not to show his jealousy. “Not much you can do. It’s not like you can tell him to leave you alone.”
“If you really don’t want him then you can tell him you have a boyfriend. And a sister,” Silena suggested with a raised eyebrow.
Her sister laughed. “I was trying to think of a way to mention Luke. And Silena, you’re 16.”
“He looks 18!” she insisted.
“Even if he was actually 18 I’d say he’s too old for you. Come on, the bathroom still needs to be cleaned after Drew decided she wanted to dye her hair black.”
“Yeah well, she’s crying now because she wants to be blonde again,” Silena explained as the sisters walked back to their cabin.
Feeling mildly ignored, Luke yelled after them. “I’ll see you at dinner!”
Remembering her boyfriend, Y/N ran back to him, pressing a peck on her lips. “Sorry. I’ll see you later.” He watched her go, trying to not think about it too much. She never forgot to kiss him goodbye but he tried to chalk it up to the fact that she was shocked by Apollo’s appearance.
~
That evening at dinner everyone had noticed the “new camper” sitting at the Apollo table looking very unhappy. Chiron stood up and called everyone’s attention. “As you all know, we have a very honored guest staying with us for a while. Lord Zeus had requested that we treat him as we would any other camper.” As he finished he gave us all a long, hard look as if to say, “Don’t get yourself killed when his immortality is restored.”
Once dinner finished, everyone was at the bonfire. Luke sat on the ground, his back resting up against a log. His girlfriend was leaning up against his shoulder, her legs over his lap. His free arm would occasionally swipe the mosquitos away from her with his other arm supporting her weight. They were talking to a few other campers when Luke let his gaze fall onto Apollo. Some campers, mostly girls from Aphrodite, sat around the god, looking at him with cartoon hearts in their eyes. He knew for a fact Y/N had told them to stay away as a. they were all minors and b. he was a god and she didn’t want to deal with their broken hearts.
When Apollo’s gaze fell on the girl in his lap, Luke tightened his grip protectively. He knew it was ridiculous. Y/N would never cheat on him and he knew she’d slap any guy who tried anything, immortal deity or not. But he couldn’t help but be worried. Hell, he had nearly punched an Ares camper last year and that kid wasn’t a god. And Apollo was known for his womanizing ways.
He tried to shake it off and go back to his conversation but his brain was still stuck on Apollo. “Hey,” he whispered so softly that only the girl in his lap could hear. She turned and he immediately kissed her. She kissed him back briefly but pulled away, not a huge fan of PDA especially in front of the entire camp. But Luke persisted, gently holding her cheek and kissing her deeply.
When she finally pulled away for breath she looked at him quizzically. “What was that for?”
He smiled and shrugged. “What? I can’t kiss my girlfriend?” She just smiled, pushing his head away jokingly before going back to her conversation. But he was looking at Apollo again, hoping the god saw that kiss. If he did, he was playing it off.
Later that night, when the fire was extinguished and he had kissed the Aphrodite counselor goodnight several times, Luke was trying to sleep. Keyword: trying. Normally the several snores or creeks of the Hermes cabin didn’t bother him, but he was so on edge thinking about Apollo’s flirting, that every noise jolted him awake. He couldn’t stop thinking about how Apollo had immediately begun to flirt with Y/N and how she had seemed to forget him for a moment.
Frustrated, Luke crept out of bed. As he opened the cabin door, he checked for harpies keeping watch but found none. So he went to the Aphrodite cabin, knocking on the window right above Y/N’s bed. It took a few tries but eventually, she poked her head up, gesturing to shut up and that she’d be out in a minute.
So Luke waited until she came around the side. “What?” she asked, still rubbing sleep from her eyes. But her hair was already falling back to the way its usual flawless look, courtesy of being Aphrodite’s daughter.
“I just wanted to see you,” Luke smiled sheepishly. And make sure Apollo isn’t sniffing around. He realized he didn’t have a reason to be out here that didn’t stem from insane jealousy. She looked mildly annoyed at that so he did the only thing he could think of. He kissed her. If he couldn’t get rid of Apollo, he could completely occupy her mind. So he did the only thing he could think of. He was pushing her up against the side of the cabin, one hand on her jaw, the other around her waist.
She had no clue where this came from but she gave in nonetheless. She wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing him deeply.
After a few minutes of making out, she finally managed to push him away enough to get a deep breath in. “What was that for?” she asked, both of them still gasping for air.
Luke smiled, grabbing her by the hips to pull her closer. “‘Cause I love you.” He pressed the lightest kiss to her nose before stepping away abruptly. “Night, see you in the morning.” And with that, he walked away the happiest demigod in all of camp.
The daughter of Aphrodite still just stood there, completely taken off guard. The only thing that snapped her out of her daze was the faint caw of a harpy, making her quickly scramble inside. Luke ended up getting his wish as that night, the only thing on her mind was that kiss.
~
The next day was Capture the Flag day. When Chiron announced it at dinner that night, everyone lost their minds. It was Athena, Hermes, Aphrodite, Hephaestus, and Poseidon vs. Ares, Apollo, Demeter, and Dionysus.
As the couple was walking over to their cabins to get their armor, Apollo caught up with them. “See you out there, Y/N,” he said as he passed with a wink.
“S-see yah?” she called back hesitantly.
Luke was frustrated but at least she didn’t seem flattered by his flirtations. Now she was just confused.
Once they grabbed their chest plates, then went back to the creek where they’d be starting the games. As Luke put his on, she was struggling to get hers tightened. “Hold on, I’ll help you in a sec,” he said, finishing strapping his onto his body.
“I got it,” a voice interrupted. Apollo seemingly appeared out of nowhere. He was standing in front of Y/N, tightening the strap.
“Hey!” Luke yelled without thinking.
Apollo held up one hand in surrender, the other still on her shoulder. “Chill man, I’m just helping.” Luke didn’t say anything else as Apollo walked away with a slight smirk.
“Hey,” Y/N said softly, stepping closer to him. “What was that about?”
Luke gritted his teeth. “Nothing. C’mon, I need to assign everyone and talk strategy.” He took her hand gently, reminding himself to not let his anger get the better of him. He headed over, gathering the team. “Alright, Cabins 6, 3, and 11 will be offense. Cabins 9, 10, and 12 will be defense. Except for Y/N, you’re with me. Beckendorf, you’ll also be offense.” He pointed out a few Athena and Hermes campers, directing them to defense as well.
After a few minutes, the conch blew and everyone was in their places. The couple quickly jumped over the creek, slipping through the Apollo cabin’s defenses. They had done this so many times, their routine was well practiced. They ran through the woods, searching for any opposing defense.
The other teams had learned that Y/N and Luke always worked as a pair so they started also pairing defensive players. That is when Hermes and Aphrodite were on the same side. If they weren’t, Capture the Flag could go on for hours since they knew all of each others’ tricks.
They continued on, occasionally making quick work of disarming opposing campers until they reached the flag. It was only guarded by one person. Apollo. Clarisse must have figured that everyone else would be too afraid to offend a god. But Luke was honestly looking for this opportunity.
So while Y/N fell back, hesitating, Luke was jumping at the god. Apollo blocked him with a sword but he was clearly not very good with it. Archery had been banned since before Luke got to camp. Even though the arrows were enchanted not to kill, someone had been blinded so Chiron banned them forever. He didn’t even make an exception for the god of archery.
While Luke fought Apollo, Y/N was grabbing the flag. “Luke!” she yelled, waving the flag. She then took off, heading for their territory. Because of Apollo’s inexperience with the sword, Luke was easily beating him. After a few slashes on the god’s arms, legs, and even face—nothing major, they were honestly just cuts a band aid could fix—Luke was disarming him. He didn’t have to be as brutal as he was or knock him over but he did, throwing the god’s sword far away before following after Y/N.
Luke was still a few feet behind her when she hopped over the creek into safety. He watched proudly as she ripped the helmet off her head and held the flag up triumphantly. The members of their team around her cheered triumphantly as the conch blew and their team was announced the winners.
Luke was still in enemy territory, watching her have her moment when Apollo showed up. “She’s really something,” the god announced, his smile focused on her.
“Yeah, my girlfriend really is incredible,” Luke said pointedly.
The god was still smiling. “I know she’s your girlfriend. I saw you making out with her last night.”
“What were you doing out at two a.m.?”
The god looked even more smug, his arms crossed over his chest. “I don’t have to answer to you. But if you must know, I had the same idea as you but you got there first.” Luke finally looked at him, rage once again filling his body. So he wasn’t paranoid. “How long have you been together?”
Luke was confused but answered nonetheless. “Uh three years,” he answered suspiciously.
“Aw, three years down the drain. I’m sorry in advance,” the god said in exaggerated regret.
Luke tried not to let his fury show. This is why he hated gods. They thought they could do whatever they wanted without regard for mortals. “Well, she loves me. At night she swears we were made for each other,” he said, recalling sweaty nights during the school year when every other Aphrodite kid was home. And how they’d make breathless promises of eternity.
Apollo gave him an almost pitiful look. “I’m sorry about your relationship but you can’t actually believe she’ll pick you when she could have a literal god?” he gestured to himself arrogantly.
Now it was Luke’s turn to gloat. He just shrugged, “I’m the one she calls for. She doesn’t call for the gods like most others would. She only ever says my name.”
Apollo was a little taken aback by the kid’s boldness. “Well, that’s the nice thing about being a god. I can make anyone mine.” And with that Apollo headed over to the capture the flag winner of the night. It took everything in him not to race up to her but he kept his composure. She’d have to reject him on her own, he couldn’t keep running defense.
He watched in surprised satisfaction as Apollo reached her. He congratulated her before pulling her into a hug. His arms were around her waist and creeping kind of low but Luke once again kept his resolve. He didn’t realize he was holding his breath until she pulled away quickly, pointing over at him. What was she saying? Was she praising him for fighting the god? Or telling him that she had a boyfriend?
Apollo tried to hug her again but she ducked under his arm, running over to him. He immediately broke out into a smile. Her arms were opened to hug him but he just grabbed her face to kiss her instead. He turned her towards the tree he had been leaning on, pressing her up against it again. He only pulled away slightly to whisper a congratulations but then their lips were connected again. When he finally pulled away, he threw an arm around her shoulder, shooting a look to the god before heading off to their celebration.
That night as they were celebrating, Luke was glued to Y/N’s side. It wasn’t until some of the other Hermes boys needed help getting their illegal video game working again that Luke left her side. “I’ll be back,” he promised her, pressing a quick kiss to her forehead.
As soon as Luke was gone, Apollo was swooping in. “Congratulations again,” he said, handing her a drink.
“Thanks,” she smiled nervously, taking the drink. “How are the cuts?”
Apollo shrugged. “They sting more than I would’ve thought but they’re fine. Your boyfriend’s a hell of a fighter.”
“Yeah,” she chuckled, relieved that he was acknowledging she had a boyfriend.
“I mean, he’s good for a mortal. He’s certainly no god,” Apollo flirted.
“Well, none of us are. Present company excluded,” she laughed nervously, gesturing to him.
Apollo casually threw an arm around her shoulder. “There’s other things we’re better at,” he said, letting the implication hang in the air. The tension was so thick you could cut it with a knife. “Have you ever been with a god, Y/N?”
She was immediately pulling out of his grasp. “I- uh… um no. I’m flattered but…” She had no clue what to say. She couldn’t just say no to Apollo. If this were any other man she’d throw her drink in his face but this was a god.
She didn’t have to say anything because Luke had seen the whole thing. As he came back he saw Apollo throw his arm around his girlfriend’s shoulder and subsequently watched her back away quickly. “I told you she loves me,” he smirked before tugging her away. She gratefully pressed herself into his body.
“Thanks,” she mumbled, careful that Apollo couldn’t hear.
“Hey, you don’t have to thank me. This is kind of my job as your boyfriend.”
“Still, you basically told him to back off. Kind of bold to deny a god.”
“Yeah, well,” he began, brushing a hair back from her face, “if he smites me we’ll just have to make up for the lost time in Elysium.” She giggled, hugging him closer as they headed off to bed.
Masterlist
#percy jackson#percy jackson and the olympians#percy jackson and the olympians x reader#pjo#pjo x reader#the lighting thief#luke castellan#luke castellan x reader#x reader#apollo#apollo x reader
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Steve Harrington was wearing a Hellfire t-shirt.
It was far too tight on him, the name of the club stretched wide over his chest. The sleeves dug into his biceps, making them pop even more than they usually did, and that was before he crossed his arms.
Worse?
It was short.
Which meant the damn shirt was constantly riding up to give everyone a nice show of the smattering of hair that trailed down past the band of Harrington's jeans.
The same hair that Eddie was determinedly not looking at.
“Henderson, a moment?” He crooked a finger, a smile on his face that was more feral than welcoming.
Rather than cower or even acknowledge that Eddie was two seconds away from murder, Dustin just gave him a gummy grin, all too pleased with himself and his scheme.
“Sure Eddie. Steve, don't just stand there, go help set the booth up!” Dustin gestured to Hellfire’s sad little table, crammed all the way in the back of the gym.
Jeff and Gareth both reacted to the suggestion like a rabid squirrel had been set upon them, nervously inching towards the other side of the booth as Harrington sighed and--shockingly--did as he was told.
‘What,’ Eddie thought angrily, ‘in the everloving fuck.’
“Do you guys mind if I set this down on the table?” Eddie heard Harrington ask as he stormed away, Dustin on his heel.
They wandered just around the corner, out of sight and hopefully, out of the fallen king’s hearing range.
Eddie wasn't sure if Harrington would try and white knight the very much deserved dressing down he was about to give.
Didn’t want to chance it, considering the downright weird relationship he had with Hellfire's freshmen.
(While he’d heard many a tale at his table regarding King Steve since the newest recruits had joined Hellfire, most of them dissolved into arguments without ever really going anywhere.
Best anyone could figure out was that Dustin and Lucas had a bad case of hero worship, while Mike owned a begrudging amount of respect that hailed from a series of misadventures.
The very same misadventures that, despite all protests to the contrary, was clearly some sort of babysitting gig for Harrington.)
Either way, plenty of the King’s court would have loved to take this opportunity to fuck with Hellfire.
Given that Henderson was absolutely too old to require a babysitter at fourteen, Eddie would bet his lunch money that was what Steve was here to do.
Something the club couldn’t afford since they were forever and always two seconds away from being stripped of club status and banned from school grounds.
“I would love to know what went through that all A’s brain of yours when I said,” Eddie whirled on Dustin when they were firmly in the clear, voice low and furious. “no Henderson, do not invite King Steve to help, he is an invading force and would ruin our peaceful kingdom!?”
He clasped his hands behind his back before leaning into Dustin’s face. “Because clearly whatever you heard wasn’t that.”
To Eddie’s continued frustration and confusion, Dustin did not treat this like the threat it was.
None of the freshmen had ever truly treated Eddie like a threat--had somehow skipped that part of the usual onboarding ritual entirely.
Eddie, town freak and drug dealer, who had cultivated his looks and craziness to such a degree that most everyone steered clear, wasn’t used to it.
Everyone had been afraid of him at some point in this shitty school. Jeff, Gareth, hell even half the staff--and that the dorky trio of fourteen year old's clearly thought this all was play-acting made his eye twitch.
Even if it was--maybe, sometimes--welcome.
“I know what you said, but I’m telling you I’m right.” Dustin argued immediately, and oh God, he was using that tone again.
A hand went up into the space between them and Eddie groaned aloud, knowing what was coming.
“First,” Dustin ticked a finger up, “Hellfire really needs the money. Even thirty dollars would get us new figures, but more than that, if we don’t fundraise, we can’t go to Gen Con!”
Dustin's eyes bored into Eddie’s, full of fire and conviction
“Yes,” Eddie said through gritted teeth, “but--”
“Second!” Dustin cut him off, and God the little shit even threw him a look while he did it, like Eddie was the one being ridiculous here!
“We had to fight just to get our table! Principal Higgins was in algebra today practically begging the mathletes to show up, but then tried to tell us we couldn't be here? That’s messed up!”
As if denying them a spot to fundraise was the worst thing that asshole had ever done.
Eddie sighed, breath blasting out of his mouth like a dragon’s.
“Because people think we’re freaks and satanists, Henderson. You don’t typically invite freaks and satanists to the school’s annual Holiday Bazaar. Especially not when all the local moms are paying to hawk their bullshit crafts and tupperware!”
It was more than that of course. The Hawkins High Holiday Bazaar was a tradition spanning several years now. Starting in the gym and spilling clear into the parking lot, everyone from local artists to even some local shops came to host a small table for the day, thus growing the event from a small school fundraiser to a Hawkins' “must-do.”
Half the fucking town was here to sell, and the other half was here to shop, which meant Principle Higgins had wanted Hellfire banned from the fucking premise.
Eddie had been forced to pull out one of his trump cards he’d been saving--blackmail on Higgins that related to the man’s not--so--legal addiction to Percocet that he relied on Reefer Rick for.
(And bless Rick, that hadn’t been the only tidbit he’d shared with Eddie about Higgins. That information, however, Eddie needed just so the asshat wouldn’t give him the boot from school entirely.)
The only reason Eddie had pulled it out to secure their rightful spot, was because of Gen Con.
It was Hellfire's White Whale, their grand adventure, and this was going to be his year to take his friends on one last epic quest to make memories of a lifetime surrounded by people who understood them.
Come hell or high water, Eddie was going to Gen Con--but being able to fundraise by selling wares and baked goods at the stupid Holiday Bazaar would go a long way to help.
Even if he had to listen to the band repeatedly play ear-bleeding renditions of Christmas songs.
“All the clubs get to have a table, and we’re a club!” Dustin continued, like it was that simple. “But you know, I get it. We look scary.”
He gestured down to his own Hellfire shirt, before gesturing towards Eddie’s entire outfit.
Like Eddie didn't know what he looked like, let alone that he'd made this outfit specifically to scare people away from him.
(And maybe add some rockstar flair to this dinky little hick town.)
“You know who doesn’t look scary?”
Dustin held out his hands and swiveled his body like he was presenting a prize instead of gesturing in the vague direction of;
“Steve!”
Eddie’s left eye twitched.
‘You can't kill him, you need his character for the campaign.’ He told himself firmly, even if he envisioned strangling Dustin like a chicken.
Cartoon squawking and all.
“The King isn’t going to help us fundraise, Dustin.” Eddie said, in an effort to break down why Harrington couldn't be here. “He's just going to cause us problems that we can’t afford to have.”
So many problems, half of which Eddie couldn't think of because if he did, he'd start spiraling.
“Really? Because as you keep saying, Steve used to be the King. People love him, Eddie! Mom’s love him.”
Eddie had pulled himself black up to his proper height a while ago, and now rocked back on his heels while he ran a hand down his face.
There was no getting through to Henderson when he was like this.
Not unless Eddie really lost it, and it was practically club lore that he only lost it when someone missed an important game.
One cannot keep a herd of sheep if their flock is terrified of them, after all.
(“Perhaps you’re just a giant fucking softie.” Tiff, one of Hellfire’s graduating members, told him once. “Honestly dude, I bet you throw up stuffing.”
“Shut up Tiffany, your choker is on backwards again.” He'd spat back, completely offended and not at all trying to distract from how true that was.)
“We can’t be satanic if Steve’s the one selling cookies!” Dustin finished doggedly.
“We’re not even selling cookies--that’s not the point!”” Eddie shook his head, hair flying. He was not going to be sidetracked, he wasn’t!
“Harrington is going to end up siding with all the moms about how we’re all wasting time with D&D, if he even spends the whole time at the table. Is that what you want?”
He stuck out a ringed finger, poking at Dustin’s chest.
“Every single person who comes by our table has to be convinced D&D is a writing and math based game. Good for the mind and souls of growing, impressionable children. A game that got a bad rep because of a few silly images.”
A pitch he and Tiff had come up with during the third or fourth time they had to convince an adult that no, just because their shirts had a dragon on it, didn’t mean they were summoning demons in the drama room.
“Harrington can’t do that because Harrington doesn’t even know how to play!”
This Eddie punctuated by throwing his hands in the air.
Given the startled look of the mother-daughter duo passing him by, clearly was louder than he’d intended--but screw it!
He was right!
Hellfire was in a precarious position to both fundraise and do a little damage control among the slightly smarter members of this shithole small town, and Harrington rolling his eyes and gossiping about how stupid it was would hinder that.
“Okay, first of all, Steve’s played D&D with me and he didn’t even kill his character.” Dustin said it like he was unveiling a smoking gun and not lying through his ass--which Eddie would absolutely be calling him on the second he was done talking.
Because King Steve? Play D&D?
'Ha!'
“And he’s not gonna say shit because we--me, and Lucas and even Mike!--asked him to help, and he helps when its serious. I know you have some weird grudge with him, but I’m telling you Eddie he’s our golden ticket to Gen Con!”
“You’re killing me. You are standing here, acting as a friend, when you are bringing a-- a dark force into the midst our of mission--” Eddie hissed, because he was losing the fucking fight and he knew it.
Dustin Henderson was not a man easily swayed.
Had never been, even when the odds were stacked against him (and Grant and Gareth were howling in his ear.)
The set of his shoulders and the glint of the little shithead’s eye meant Eddie wouldn’t be able to use him to oust Harrington--if he even could get him out without the dick causing a massive scene anyway.
As always when outgunned, Eddie flipped to dramatics.
“Betrayed! By my own chosen heir no less!” He moaned, pressing the back of his hand over his eyes as Dustin scoffed.
"Don’t be so dramatic! Steve will help, I promise! Just don’t be a dick to him.”
Conversation apparently over, Dustin turned around to head back to the table
Snidely, he added over his shoulder: “Plus we’ve all caught on to the heir thing Eddie. You tell everyone that so they do what you want.”
The dick.
“You’re too fucking smart for your own good. I’m gonna start feeding you paint chips to bring that IQ down.” Eddie muttered angrily as Dustin went back to their little table.
He gave himself a moment to get his shit together and stomp a foot like a child when Dustin was around the corner and thus couldn’t witness it, before following his wayward sheep back.
Could only pray to any deity listening that Henderson’s meddling didn’t blow up in Hellfire’s face.
#Door Prize#Alt S4#pre steddie#when is it not lmao#Holiday fic#well this is more of a warm up but it has another part#Ive just given up the WIPS are running my life#this is brought to you by a local high schools massive holiday bazaar I went too that had cute band kids running around#could not play music though bless them#I did FINALLY get re employed so things are slowing down but Im hoping to post one more chapter of SOMETHING before the end of dec#and probably the other half of this warm up shes short#steven harrington#eddie munson#baking#special appearance by Adopt a Jocks Tiff#Robin pops up in this in the other half#Dustin Henderson#and his scheming#Steve can bake#0o0 fanfics#stranger things#stranger things fanfic#steddie
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fanfic bakugou vs real size
sypnosis; katsuki finds you reading a fanfic about him
notes; suggestive, gn reader, fluff with katsukiii, long term established relationship, bakugo is a little ooc. 733 words
inspired by: @officialabortive (i tried to find the drabble but i couldn’t find it! anyways go show them some loveee)
‘katsuki’s muscular arms trapped you in between him and the kitchen island, his hot breath caressing your neck before you felt him speak.
“do you know why i call myself dynamite?” he whispered seductively.
“why?” you meekly responded, slowly turning to face him.
he leans closer to your ears before whispering,
“because i blow my load in bitches like you.” ’
soon, a loud laugh could be heard behind you, ripping you from your very steamy fantasy. only for you to realise the man himself was behind you, laughing his ass off.
“suki, w-what the fuck?! you scared me!” you stumbled over your words, shame spreading across your whole body.
“i can’t fucking believe i walked in on my partner reading this shit! oh fuck, i’m getting abs!” katsuki continued to cackle while you covered your face in embarrassment. this was the worst way to get caught.
“i was just interested! i was online and i saw that this was apparently the dynamite fanfic that everyone was raging over!” you attempted to defend yourself, but your excuses fell onto deaf ears and the sound of his obnoxious laughter getting louder to drown you out.
“i just can’t believe this, baby, you have the real thing right here!” katsuki climbed onto the couch with you, leaning his arm on the top of the couch while resting his chin on his fist.
“i know that, like i said, i was just interested!” you huffed.
“that line was insane though, maybe ill steal it next time. would you be into that? me ‘blowing my load’ into you?” katsuki smiled, trying to hide your laughter.
but your shy smile as you looked away just broke any restraint he had, and thus, he was bursting out laughing again.
“oh my god, you liked it, didn’t you?” katsuki accused.
“no i didn’t!” you whined, playfully pushing katsuki who barely even moved an inch.
“yes you did, look at how flustered your getting!” katsuki pointed at your face.
“oh come off it!” you slapped his finger away, picking up your phone again and turning away to have him face your back.
“going off to read more?” katsuki teased.
you stayed silent, sighing playfully as katsuki (unbeknownst to you) widened his mouth in shock.
“listen… the writing is really good!” you defended yourself whilst laughing.
“it was probably written by a 14 year old girl!” he exclaimed back to you.
“no actually, the writer here just turned 20.” you huffed.
“im still in shock, you have the katsuki bakugou in front of you, wiling to do whatever you want, yet you chose him. the guy with cheesy lines!” katsuki complained.
“don’t be jealous katsuki, it’s just that the storylines are so captivating. like, in one of them, you were a barista and i was a ceo- can i please explain the storyline properly without you laughing?” you paused while smiling as katsuki wheezed in front of you.
after a few second, he nodded, covering his mouth to contain whatever laughter he had left in him so you could continue.
“thank you, anyways, i was a ceo and you were the coffee barista and we fell in love over time since i kept coming back because the coffee you made was always really good. but then, your jealous ex, which was me actually, came and told me that you both were still dating and that you were just using me for my money. so then, i fell out of love for you, but then, 2 years later, you had graduated from UA and became a pro hero and saved me, so then we fell in love again and got married.” you explained.
“wait, they include you in these little stories?” katsuki asked.
“yep, im usually the jealous ex or the supportive best friend.” you replied.
“these people are so pathetic, you’re mine and always will be.” katsuki said, lunging at you, trapping you in a bear hug.
you screamed in laughter as he trapped you in his lethal hugs, the scent of his cologne wafting in your nose.
“you’re right, i’m your forever!” you giggled in his arms.
“exactly, don’t need no fanfic to tell you otherwise.” his voice was muffled as his face was in his neck.
god, you loved this man and no other fanfic version of him could ever capture how he was with you.
#authors#mha x reader#mha#mha bakugou#mha fanfiction#bakugou katsuki#bakugo katuski#bakugou x reader#bnha bakugou#katsuki bakugo x reader#bakugou x you#bnha bakugo katsuki#katsuki bakugo mha#katsuki x you#katsuki x y/n#katsukibakugou#mha x y/n#mha x you#mha x gender neutral reader#mha drabbles
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summary your attention is elsewhere and scara gets sad. not that he would admit it, though.
or, scara shows his true colors when he’s missing you.
warning 1k words, profanity, calling wanderer ‘kunikuzushi’, you and him are in mondstadt!! clingy and pathetic scara… fluff!
what else could i talk about? you gaze at the empty sheet while your thoughts are running miles and miles ahead. you’ve been clutching your head pitifully for far too long that lisa is starting to send worried glances.
this one is no good either. you crumple and toss it to the growing pile on the edge of the table.
maybe another metaphor. about the sky and the wind? he would love that. maybe something else that would rhyme with love. would venti appeal to your poem even more if you talk about wine? he would.
the slender shape of the wine glass, the alluring shade of dandelion wine, its sweet aroma—it would be your worst work out of all the ones venti discarded, but perhaps he wouldn’t be able to refuse this one. kaeya would applaud if he were to hear this right now.
ink stains the sides of your palms. you heave a sigh, fingers getting to work on the dreaded worship poem about venti’s favorite wine. what else could you make out of this? you’re getting desperate. you just need to finish this last poem, and you will be freed from venti’s insistent clutches and your own stubbornness to see this to the end.
“boo.”
a hand slaps over your mouth before you can disturb anyone else in the library.
your first instinct is to tear this person’s limb off; however, the gloves, along with the unnaturally smooth and fair skin is distinctively familiar. you bat the arm away and face him; wanderer’s hand lowers to your hips instead.
“asshole!” you hiss with a frightening scowl. wanderer’s grin widens as if you’re the cutest thing he’s ever laid his eyes on. “i told you to fuck off elsewhere while i finish this—why are you back so early?”
“it’s boring,” he says.
“weren’t you the one to suggest we explore mondstadt?” your jolt earlier caused a huge streak of ink to run across the page, entirely ruining your wine-revering poem.
“i said ‘we’, didn’t i? you, me, together. you kicked me out and left me to explore by myself.”
“you’re the wanderer. isn’t that your whole thing?” sighing helplessly at his unimpressed stare, you crumple the poem and throw it to his face. he doesn’t flinch nor blink, letting it slide off his face and land on the floor. “besides, it’s only been, like, five minutes.”
“just leave his stupid class,” wanderer hisses, glaring with disdain at your small pile of other failed poems.
“no, venti is so nice to me. unlike you.”
he rolls his eyes, plucking the quill pen from your grasp. you frown, reaching out to take it back, but he continues to pull it away, drawing your faces closer together. “ditch it and come with me,” he says.
“no. i said i’m joining and i will finish it.”
“stubborn shit,” wanderer groans, ignoring your quick ‘learned from the best’. “why are you even so persistent with learning poetry? since when did this happen? you trying to impress that kaedehara guy?”
“what if i said i was?” you flutter your eyelashes to piss him off.
it works: he bristles like an aggravated cat, irritation flashing on his face. “don’t even joke about that.”
you burst into laughter and playfully reach out to pinch his cheek. it’s a testament to how far you’ve come in building his trust when he doesn't swat your hand away from his flawless face. “you’re the one who brought it up,” you coo.
“hey, you two.” you pair stiffen at lisa’s deceivingly sweet voice from behind. “do you mind flirting loudly elsewhere?”
both of you find yourselves outside the building, shoulders slouched, resembling kicked puppies. he has his arms full of your discarded poems, a few of them slipping away as he strides ahead. you struggle to trail behind as you try to stick your quill in your pocket with your hands occupied with a stack of blank papers.
“we weren’t even flirting,” you huff.
wanderer pauses before the trash bin, dumping all of them ceremoniously.
you’re about to comment on how nice he is when he suddenly gets all up in your face, his eyes narrowed and his hand on the small of your back.
“she couldn’t tell with the bedroom eyes you were giving me, clearly,” he says, wordlessly taking the stack of paper from you and tucking it under his arm.
he is being awfully kind today, which, of course, happens nearly never. you want to comment about that, too, but you find yourself silent as you follow after him and watch his side profile. the smoothness of his skin, unblemished, untouched; the length of his lashes, rivaling the shogun herself; then his unrelenting need to have his hands on you no matter what.
thinking about all this makes your heart flutter, picking up pace in a way you haven’t felt the entire day.
then comes the brilliant idea. “kunikuzushi, what if i just write about you instead? will that satiate your ego enough to keep you from bothering me?” it’s not like it would be too difficult to write about the person you’re harboring feelings for.
he doesn’t look appalled by the idea, yet still, he isn’t pleased. “i’m not bothering you for the sake of it. i don’t like how this is the first you’ve talked to me all day.”
“so you are bothering me for the sake of it.”
“idiot.” he flicks his hand, and a gust of wind pushes you against his chest. “look at me.” you obey, and only then do you notice the way tension seems to have left his shoulders the moment you do.
a sly smirk tugs on your lips. “were you feeling lonely without me?”
“no shit,” he says, which was far from the response you were expecting.
startled, you turn to him, only to find that he’s pulled his hat down to cover his face. “kuni,” you say slowly; when he doesn’t reply, you try again, “kuni, kunikuzushi.” he is completely still, so you take it upon yourself to sneak beneath his hat to steal a glimpse of his face.
he lets out an undignified noise, looking away immediately. it was a fruitless attempt—you already saw how red his entire face was, spread from his ears to what you can see from his neck.
“stop,” he breathes, too embarrassed to push you away.
you laugh softly, encircling your arms around his neck to coax him into making eye contact with you. “i didn’t know you were the clingy type.”
“you’re just a handful,” he spits, though it’s not as intimidating as he’s trying to make it out to be—not when his face is the same shade of windwheel asters, and his bottom lip is trembling from shame.
“and you’re so cute when you’re so in love with me.”
eventually, his hand settles on your face, and he pries you off him, pointedly ignoring your delighted laughter.
A/N put a hold on the lyney fics to come back to this guy. i love writing for him he is so fun.
#606:GENSHIN#genshin impact x reader#scaramouche x reader#wanderer x reader#kunikuzushi x reader#scaramouche fluff#scaramouche x you#genshin impact x you#wanderer x you#genshin x reader#genshin drabble#scaramouche drabble#wanderer fluff
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poisoned mercury | end up here
a/n: i'm going FERALLLLLLL over this chapter. enjoy poisoned mercury's debut album hehe.
iv. end up here by 5sos
series masterlist | previous | next
“your band name doesn’t even make any sense,” you argued, eyes narrowing at the boy in front of you.
luke crashed your secret spot, again, and refused to let you smoke in silence until you gave him a detailed explanation of how your day went. he knew you didn’t smoke every day, only on days that were particularly hard. he noticed that your bad days always had something to do with your dad, but it didn’t feel like the right moment to bring that up.
anyway, you got fed up with his badgering and that stupid smirk on his face because he knew you were about to crack, and decided that if he was going to act like a toddler, you would too. hence, why you were now bringing up his band name.
luke took offense to that because he thought the band name was cool. he was the one to suggest it. he crossed his arms over his chest, trying not to let his hurt show on his face, “what do you mean? poisoned mercury is a sick name.”
“mercury is already poisonous. your band name is like redundant or some shit.”
“then why did so many people in history ingest it?” luke asked, recalling the one thing he remembered from his high school history class before he dropped out. he took a drag from his cigarette, turning his body a bit so the wind didn’t blow the smoke directly in your face.
“they fucking died, castellan,” you replied, deadpan.
“oh,” he blinked, staring off, “i didn’t know that.”
you rolled your eyes, a habit that you’ve picked up whenever you were with him and sat back down on the bench. luke joined you, silent as he thought about what you just said. he really needed to stop zoning out during lessons, but since he was already out of high school, he guessed it didn’t matter anymore.
as much as you hate to admit it, luke castellan was growing on you. sure, he got on your nerves like nobody else– the boy just doesn’t quit– but, he wasn’t half as bad as you originally thought. not that you’d ever tell him that though.
when you got back to the cabin last week after helping with concert prep, the cabin was spotless. there were no empty red bull cans in sight, the table tops were free of crumbs, floor vacuumed and mopped, and there was even a candle burning on the counter. you approached your bedroom door to find a post-it on the handle. luke’s messy writing was smudged around the corners, but you could still make out what it said.
“five star,
i snitched on the boys and my mom will have a stern talk with them about their cleanliness. can’t promise that people will stop talking about me, but i can promise you won’t have to live in the dojo casa house mojo or whatever it was.
ps i’m using the spot tomorrow, just thought i should let you know. maybe we can set up a calendar for reservations.
luke :)”
the cabin hasn’t been as messy since. whatever may castellan told the boys worked like a charm. there was still the occasional trash, but nothing crazy. it smelled better in the cabin too, still like a boy, but it smelled like expensive cologne more than anything. cedarwood and pine.
and thankfully, the luke castellan hype train was starting to run out of steam, with many people finally realizing that he was also just a human being and the surprising revelation that luke castellan was not entertaining anyone during his time at camp helped with it as well. you still heard whispers about him here and there, but you were glad the topic of conversation was beginning to switch to something else.
you and luke walked to the gym and back home every morning together. he and the boys sat with you and clarisse during meals. they tagged along for music lessons and spoke to the kids, which they really appreciated. they helped the older campers with writing music, luke particularly. you’d been around a few musicians in your life and many of them only kissed ass when your dad was around, but poisoned mercury was different. they were passionate about their music. that was clear.
after a conversation with clarisse, where she managed to convince you that not all musicians are like your ex, you began to let loose a little bit. you hung out with the boys more, partly as an excuse so clarisse could hang out with chris without causing too much suspicion, and found that you actually enjoyed their company. and luke castellan? well, he wasn’t half bad. that doesn’t mean he got off easy though.
you took a hit of your vape, facing him, “are you done interrogating me?”
“for now, yeah,” he smiled as you shook your head. “are you coming to the concert tonight?”
“well, i did help organize it.”
“a simple yes would’ve sufficed, five star,” luke teased, relighting his cigarette. it was burning unevenly and luke was never one to waste his cigarettes. “you gonna watch us play?”
“don’t have a choice. dad wants me there the whole time.”
“you can act a little excited,” luke ran a hand through his curls, “we are pretty good, you know.”
“i know,” you hummed. the sun was beginning to set and there was a slight breeze in the air. goosebumps formed on your skin, the t-shirt and denim shorts you wore didn’t offer much comfort. you shivered, “i have listened to your music.”
“are you cold?”
your teeth chattered, but you shook your head, “i’m fine.”
luke took off his hoodie, tossing it in your direction, “take it.”
“no,” you tossed it back to him, “told you i’m good.”
always so stubborn, luke thought.
“if you catch a cold, that’s not on me,” he placed the hoodie on the bench between the two of you. “which songs have you listened to?”
“kilby girl, of course. it played on the radio so much when you guys first dropped it,” you said, remembering the days where you and your hometown friends would blast it in the car. it reminded you of high school, reckless decisions, life-long memories, and the thrill of knowing you were going to be playing the sport you’d worked so hard to excel in at a d1 level in the fall. you looked at him, sincerity in your eyes, “i really like family line. it might be my favorite.”
luke’s eyebrows shot up. not many people talked about family line. it was probably their least streamed song. they never performed the song on tour because it was difficult for luke to sing it. it was a personal song to him. it was inspired by his relationship with his father, or lack thereof.
when poisoned mercury first got signed to olympus records, luke sent a message to his dad on facebook. luke hadn’t tried to contact him since he was ten, not since his father returned his letter to him unopened, no response but a “return to sender” stamp plastered over the envelope. but after the small congratulatory party his mom set up for the band after they signed, luke felt like a little kid again, a kid who wanted to share the great news with his dad, so he found his dad on facebook, made an account, and sent him a message.
he didn’t get a reply, which was expected, but it felt good for a second to pretend that he had a father to tell his good news to. luke thought he didn’t care about whether or not his dad was proud of him, but when his message went from “sent” to “read” a few days later, he was brought back to those moments in his life when he cried and wondered why he wasn’t enough to make his dad stay. he wrote family line in one sitting, on his bed in his bedroom in connecticut, looking at the little league medals on his wall that seemed to mock him.
he originally didn’t want it on the album because he felt like it didn’t fit the vibe of the rest of the songs and that it was too real, too vulnerable for a debut album, but then he played it for his mom and she loved it. she cried when she first heard it and luke knew that even if people didn’t like the song, he was going to put it out for his mom.
“huh,” he cleared his throat, trying to regain his composure, “wasn’t expecting that one. thought you’d be more of a crash my car type of girl.”
“i like that too,” you shrugged, “but family line. that song. i don’t think i have the words to describe it.”
“thanks, five star,” luke looked down at his feet, taking a puff from his dying cigarette. “that’s my mom’s favorite, too.”
“did you write it?”
luke nodded, looking to face you. there was a new expression on your face, one that you’d never used with him before. it was a mix of disbelief and awe. he tried not to get offended that you didn’t think he could write something like family line, but he couldn’t blame you. he didn’t really portray the type of person who would be able to be that raw and vulnerable on a song. “me and trav write the lyrics for our songs, mostly. chris and connor help too, but the bulk of the lyrics are me.”
“you need to stop doing that.”
he cocked his head to the side, crushing the cigarette butt on the hardware of the bench, “doing what?”
“surprising me,” you shook your head, “i don’t like it.”
“i don’t know what to tell you,” he chuckled, leaning back on the bench. he looked out into the lake, watching the sun disappear behind the mountains, “i have layers. you just gotta give me a chance.”
“how do you do it?” you sat criss cross on the bench, leaning against the arm rest. “how do you write like that?”
you’d always been curious about music, even if you weren’t good at it. your dad was never one to answer your questions, especially because you were interested in lyrics more than anything, and that wasn’t his forte.
luke mimicked your actions, “i dunno. personal experience, i guess?”
you frowned, thinking about the lyrics of family line. luke never talked about his dad, but spoke highly of his mom. was family line based on his own life? if it was, his dad was an asshole.
you relented to the cold, grabbing the hoodie that he left in between the two of you. you ignored the triumphant smile on his face when you draped the sweater over your bare legs, shielding them from the wind chills.
he continued, “sometimes things happen to me that get me worked up and i have to write a song about it. sometimes, it’s based on my imagination. it depends.”
you wanted to ask him about his dad, but you didn’t know if he considered you guys friends yet. it’s not like you made it easy for him anyway. you could deal with the banters and annoyance, but you didn’t want to push him to talk about something he wasn’t ready to. you could be a dick, but you weren’t cruel.
you changed the subject, “okay, let’s play a game.”
“21 questions?” luke bit his bottom lip, trying not to laugh. he waggled his eyebrows, dodging your arm that reached out to smack him.
“you’re gross,” you gagged, knowing the implications of the game, “no, i’m gonna ask about the songs on your album and you tell me if it’s real life or from your imagination.”
“alright, go for it five star,” he beamed, propping his elbows on his crossed knees. he loved talking about music with anyone. he could go on and on for hours.
“18.”
“real,” luke snorted, remembering the first time travis pitched the idea for the song to the band, “but not my experience. it was trav. he met this girl at one of our gigs in new york, right after we got signed, and he was obsessed. she was a freshman at nyu and she kept telling him he was too young for her, even though she was just less than a year older. trav was hooked.”
you could picture it. it was definitely something travis would do. “okay, another one of my favorites. only angel?”
“not real,” luke shook his head, a slight blush creeping up on his face. “if you tell anyone, five star, i will vehemently deny it, but i had a crush on jade west from victorious and i wrote it about her.”
there was something about jade west that made luke like a love-sick puppy. ignoring the fact that she was hot, her attitude was something that luke was attracted to. she had a tough exterior and acted like she didn’t care about people, but she had her moments where she was soft and kind to the people she cared about the most. luke liked that. the idea that someone could be sensitive but only to the people they deemed worthy.
he’d spent so much of his life trying to be worthy, in whatever way the stage of his life defined it, and he craved it– a pat on the back, an approval, a confirmation that he was worthy of it.
you threw your head back laughing, surprised by his ridiculous confession. the sound of your laughter rang across the woods, making luke smile. your voice echoed throughout the trees and he his senses were surrounded by you. it hit luke like a truck.
he sucked in a breath, taking out his phone. he jolted from his seat for more than one reason. “shit, five star. we gotta go.”
you took out your phone too, checking the time. your eyes widened as you got up from your seat. you threw his hoodie over to him, “fuck, we’re late.”
the two of you raced out of the woods, arriving to the concert venue with flushed faces and rapid breaths. you could feel clarisse’s knowing eyes on you as you got ready for the concert. you tried your best to ignore it. you were going to deal with that later.
–
“and for the final event, i know you guys are looking forward to this one,” your dad laughed into the mic. the sun was long gone and there were disco lights illuminating the stage. a smoke machine was on either corner, making it difficult to see the bottom half of the stage. you and clarisse stood in the front row, listening to the deafening cheers of the campers. “ladies and gents, welcome poisoned mercury!”
the screams got louder which you didn’t even know was possible. travis entered the stage first, sticking his tongue out as he expertly twirled his drumsticks around his fingers. connor came in next, smiling and waving at the crowd as he plugged his guitar into the amp. chris walked in with his bass strapped around his neck, eyes immediately finding clarisse and sending her a shy smile. you nudged her teasingly, enjoying the way she blushed under the lights.
then luke castellan walked in. he ditched his hoodie and t-shirt and walked in with a white tank top on, messing with the curls on his head. he tugged on the silver necklace around his neck as his eyes scanned the crowd. he threw a wink to the group of the older girls in the back, turning to travis to let out a laugh at their reaction. the lights on the boys were blinding and a thin layer of sweat already began to form on their skin despite the bite to the air.
luke took center stage, picking up his guitar. he leaned over directly in front of you, fingers pretending to mess with the wires connecting his guitar to the speakers, “hey, five star.”
he straightened his back before you could reply. clarisse’s eyes darted between you and the boy, now nudging you like you did to her earlier. you rolled your eyes, smiling at the rest of the boys as luke began talking on the mic.
“what’s up, camp half blood?” luke screamed into the mic. the crowd roared. “we’re poisoned mercury and we are so happy to be with you guys here this summer. before we close out this awesome concert, i wanna introduce our lovely band.”
“on drums, we have the one and only, travis stoll!” luke turned around to applaud travis as he did a little drum solo, head banging as he hit the drums. he turned to connor, “on lead guitar, we have the amazing connor stoll!”
connor strummed his guitar, leaning over on the left side to soak in the applause of the crowd. the girls beside you swooned as he unleashed one of his award-winning smiles.
luke faced chris, “and on bass, we have my very best friend in the entire world, my 4lifer, chris rodriguez!” clarisse cheered loudly for chris as he played a tune on his bass, mouthing, “love you, brother,” to luke as he played. the crowd quited for a second as luke addressed them again, “and my name is luke castellan. we’re poisoned mercury!”
you turned around to look at the crowd. the size of the crowd tripled when the boys got on stage. everyone had a smile on their face, excited to hear them play.
“the song we’ll be singing for you guys today is from our debut album,” luke adjusted his mic on the stand. he got closer to it, lips touching the metal, “this is only angel.”
you couldn’t help but let out a laugh at their song choice. this was not the song they were supposed to sing. they’d been rehearsing kilby girl for the past week. luke saw your reaction, laughing along with you.
the instrumentals began and you nearly missed the beat drop because of the cheers from the crowd. as the song progressed, the boys were one with the music. you watched luke sing, working the crowd like a pro. his skin glistened under the spotlight, beads of sweat tricking down the side of his face. he approached chris when the chorus started, dragging his mic stand with him. he swung his guitar around so it rested on his back as he sang the lyrics. his curls were sticking to his forehead, eyebrows raised in glee as he performed.
you couldn’t take your eyes off the lead singer, not even when the rest of the band had their own solos in the song. your eyes were glued on luke; how his adam’s apple was on full display as he threw his head back, getting lost in the music, how his arms flexed as he wrapped the mic cord around his fist, how his thin tank top stuck to his body and how it raised when he lifted his arm up to bring the mic closer to his lips. you saw the outline of his abdomen and his v-line.
but what really got you was his face. he looked at peace on stage, a wide smile on his face, full lips pink and glossy as he licked them in between verses. he looked incredible up there, like that was where he belonged. he was born to be on stage like this.
“fuck,” you mumbled, applauding at the end of their song. luke’s eyes found yours as he sang the last bit of the song, smiling at you. you hoped clarisse couldn’t hear you talk to yourself. you looked down at your feet, tugging nervously on the collar of your shirt, “i get it now.”
#frances writes#poisoned mercury#luke castellan x reader#luke castellan imagine#luke castellan pjo#luke castellan fanfic#luke castellan#luke pjo#luke castellan x yn#luke castellan x y/n#luke castellan x you#percy jackson fanfic#percy jackson
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How about a girlfriend that does charity and she does it with the driver maybe Lando? when they’re home together (like idk buying and donating things for orphanage or women’s shelter) if you’re comfortable with he idea
"I don't mind auctioning my stuff away, but how about some of your things too?", Lando suggested as you sorted through his wardrobe and helmet and racesuits collections.
"I've been donating clothes that are still in good shape - your clothes have more value because they've been worn by you, so it brings in more money", you reasoned, "no one would buy anything from me", you shrugged your shoulders.
"We could try, though! Chat is always crazy about you and I think they would be down for that. Say this dress here - didn't you tell me that it pinched you and it hurt your boobs?", he pointed to a black dress you wore to a team Christmas dinner, "I certainly don't want you in pain and never hurting these", he cupped your boobs, smirking like a horny teenager, "so maybe it would be good to sell and then donate that money?", he suggested.
"I doubt anyone would pay good money for it, but sure, we can try! And we could throw this one in the mix too, and this shirt - if anyone's paying for anything it's because it's a good piece", you mumbled.
"Hi guys! Chat is all excited because you're here, see?", Lando kissed your temple and secured you on his lap, "today's stream is a little different, and you might have seen a little bit of it from the stories I put up earlier this week", Lando explained, "earlier this week Y/N and I made a big order of clothes and some furniture for an orphanage back home. They have an amazing program to ensure kids have a future in what they want to study or work in and we're also visiting them soon, and we thought you guys would want to help too if you wanted!", he smiled.
"This seems like we're decluttering the house - and in a way we are, to be honest, but there's this organisation here in Monaco that helps new parents in need - anything from diapers, formula, wipes, medications, clothes - and since we don't know much about that", you said as Lando chirped in, "not yet", smiling as he kissed your temple again, "since we don't know much about it, we were thinking of auctioning Lando's racesuits and a spare helmet, and all of the money would be going to that organisation", you explained, still blushing from his comment.
Lando put up the website where you had uploaded the photos and details, "someone says "there are some of Y/N's dresses here, are they for auction too?" - Yes, they are! This one wasn't so sure anyone would buy them so please buy them because a) it's for a good cause and b) I would get to tell her "I told you so" and get bragging rights for being right", he smiled smugly.
"Wow, you're really loving it", you spoke to the stream as the pieces or clothing were getting higher and higher bids, "guys, thank you so much! You have no idea how happy this makes me, us! We donate to this organisation every year and now we thought we could make a bigger contribution but never this big, thank you so much", you smiled, feeling a bit emotional and how caring and giving everyone was being, even people typing in the chat that they had made a direct money donation with the quantity they were able to give.
"What can I say? I'm always right", Lando charmed, praising himself as you cuddled closer to him, "you were", you whispered.
"Louder, baby, the chat can't hear you say I was right", he chuckled.
"Oh, the lady at the orphanage just sent us pictures of the kids doing their homework on the new desks!", you showed Lando the pictures you were sent, "I wish we could show you guys, but the little faces are showing", you said, pursing your lips and scrolling through until you found one of just the room, "this one doesn't! Look at how great their room looks now!", you gushed as you showed the camera.
(Thank you for sending this in ✨️)
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a Neighbor!AU idea that has wormed its way into my brain and won't leave:
You're visiting Simon on-base for the first time. Partly as a way to see how he lives when he's not at home, and partly to meet the rest of 141. You're in Price's office with the rest of them, simply sitting around and chatting.
And suddenly an alert goes out. The base is on lockdown for some reason or another, but it's clear from the announcement that there's some sort of immediate danger. Simon's demeanor switches on a dime. Mere seconds ago, he was relaxed. Content, even. But as soon as that alert pops off, he changes.
You've never seen Ghost. You've heard of him from Simon, he's showed you the mask, and you know that technically they're one and the same. But Simon has told you in no uncertain terms that Ghost stays in the field. That Ghost is merely another side of himself whose sole purpose is to get Simon home alive. And once that mission is completed, he's just Simon again.
Not now though. Now, he's Ghost.
He wastes no time shoving you into a corner, standing in front of you with his back to you. Guarding you like a trained animal. You watch as he barks out orders to Soap and Gaz and discusses possible s.o.p.'s with Price. You hear him talk of an exfil, of ways to covertly get you off-base with the lockdown in effect. It's as if a switch has been flipped.
He accepts no words from you. Any attempt to ask what's going on or offer any suggestion earns a quick "hush" as he reaches back and squeezes a hand on you. The hand he lays on you is the only remnant of Simon you can see in him now - because even in the midst of a crisis that requires him to fully be Lieutenant "Ghost" Riley, even if he is verbally blunt and curt with you, he is physically still gentle.
Price manages to talk him down, but only slightly. He convinces Ghost to wait just a moment before proceeding with an attempted exfil, just to get more intel on what the situation really is.
"Anyone comes through that door, you drop 'em," Ghost orders.
"With what?" Soap asks. "We're unarmed."
"With your bare hands, Sergeant," Ghost replies coldly. "Either you kill 'em, or I will."
"An' what if it's some poor recruit that got caught out in the open and just needs a hideout?"
"Then they should've picked a different room."
A chill runs through you. You'd known in the periphery that Simon has killed before, a fact that's simply a given since he's an SAS member. But you'd never been faced with it so closely.
"No one's gonna come through the door," Prices says, holding a hand up like he's trying to calm a spooked animal. "It's locked three times over and reinforced."
Simon - Ghost - still has a hand on you as you stand behind him. The atmosphere is tense, and time slows to a crawl as you wait for more information to arrive. It's not as though you feel unsafe; you know there are few places in the world where you would be safer in your current situation. But there is still the nagging feeling that you're being guarded by a pack of wolves, all tightly-wound and liable to snap violently at any sign of movement.
Then, suddenly, another announcement.
An all-clear. Apparently some rookie had gotten their signals confused and thought there was a danger when there wasn't. A classic false alarm.
The collective task force (yourself included) seems to release a held breath at the same time. You watch as Ghost's shoulders sag, and you watch as Simon returns when he guides you out from behind him. You can tell he's still rattled, you can tell there's still vestiges of Ghost wafting through him like dark smoke. But for now, you all take some time to catch your breath and come down from the adrenaline high.
Maybe later, you'll talk about what happened. Maybe you won't. Either way, you've gotten to see much more of the militant side of Simon than what he'd bargained for when he brought you with him to the base today.
You're still not quite sure how you feel about it.
#ghost scribbles#simon ghost riley#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#simon ghost x reader#ghost x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#neighbor simon
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Your smut is top tier, truly.
Would you consider writing something along the lines of a secret admirer situation - Sub reader develops a crush on Eddie after she's been buying weed from him for a while and begins secretly leaving suggestive notes in Eddie's locker detailing some of her fantasies about him until one day he finally manages to connect the dots during their latest drug deal in the woods. Maybe the reader, although had planned to eventually confess her identity, didn't expect him to figure it out at that moment and is initially pretty embarrassed until it all leads to some very sloppy/kinky sex in the middle of the woods. Degradation, spanking, little bit of daddy kink and whatever else you think might make it more saucy, please. Go nuts :)
Mystery Girl
(18+ only)
a/n: sorry i haven't posted in a bit, my life is in shambles. the good news is i think i'm over being sad and have moved on to apathy, so enjoy the filth!
summary: A stupid mistake leads Eddie to figuring out you were the one leaving dirty love notes in his locker for months.
wordcount: 5.9k
tags/warnings: fem!sub!reader, dom!Eddie, smut, praise kink, degradation, daddy kink, fingering (f receiving), p in v penetration, dacryphilia, spanking, choking, hair pulling, light bondage (hands tied behind back), light drug use, discussions of safe words, no use of y/n
It had been too many months to count since you started leaving the love letters. While you didn’t personally attend Hawkins High anymore, you still find yourself there fairly often thanks to licenseless friends that haven’t yet graduated. They’re all in school clubs, which sometimes leads to them running late when you’ve promised to pick them up. It would be rather annoying if it didn’t grant you the opportunity to sneak into the school and leave your notes to Eddie in his locker. Eddie was your dealer- introduced through a cousin of a friend- and after many late nights of smoking together he eventually became something akin to a friend in his own right. Maybe if you didn’t have such a pathetic crush on him you’d be able to more confidently accept his companionship, but for the meantime you only see him when you’re buying drugs (or doing drugs with him).
“Got another one,” he says, sprawled out in the back of his van while sparking up a joint he rolled for the both of you. “This one was pretty raunchy.”
He passes you the joint once it’s lit, too much of a gentleman to abide by the bad luck rule of the roller being the first to take a hit. “Oh really?” you ask, holding the end up to your mouth and feigning interest. “Raunchy how?”
He told you about it, but you of course already knew how. From the very first letter you left for him, Eddie’s been bragging to you all about his secret admirer. In the beginning, it was all very innocent. You would write about how you’d seen him around, how you found him funny and cute, stuff of that nature. But after a smoke sesh accidentally resulted in over indulging, he confided in you exactly what he’d like to do to this ‘Mystery Girl’ if he ever learned her identity. He would describe sexual acts you’d never heard of before, and was very blasé about it all despite the sensitive nature. The way he explained his fantasies about you (even though he didn’t know it was you he was talking about) brought warmth to your cheeks- and between your legs. It encouraged you to go further with your letters. You started detailing how you’d imagine him late at night, how you thought about his lips on you when you had your fingers circling your clit, how you’d wish your soft fingers were his calloused ones. Eddie seemed eager to share this development with someone, and to your rotten luck that someone was you.
He continued showing you what you wrote, unaware that he was just reading you back your own dirty secrets. Before you knew it, everything had snowballed out of control. The letters were filled with your wildest perversions and the subject of them was none the wiser. The possibility of him finding out and being so uncomfortable that he no longer wished to be kind-of-friends scared the living shit out of you, but no matter how many times you swore you were done with this bad habit you found yourself crawling back to that notebook with so many pages torn out. You really did try to stop it, but the next day Eddie would excitedly pull out a folded up piece of paper and the lovestruck look on his face as he talked about someone who actually wanted him was too much reward to not go through with the risk.
“Well,” he started as he watched the orange glow from your inhale fade away as you blew out the smoke, “she started it off by saying she wants to feel my rings on her neck while I choked her from behind.”
He laughed as he said this, so you laughed along with him. The memory of putting pen to paper and writing this came to you, but you hardly felt embarrassed anymore. You had written much, much worse. The anonymity allowed you to freely express yourself, and he seemed happy enough to hear it. Still, you couldn’t help but feel a little guilty to be keeping a secret like this, especially when you weren’t even sure he would feel the same if he ever learned the truth.
“That’s a little much,” you reply, passing the joint to him. He takes it happily, but shakes his head no.
“It’s sexy as hell, is what it is.” There’s a far off, dreamy look in his eyes as he takes his own short puff. “I’m telling you, whoever this is is my dream girl. If only I could catch her in the act, I’d drag her from my locker straight to this spot without even saying anything and eat her out in the school parking lot.” As he says this, he pays down on the blanket under you both.
“You’re not any closer in this mission?” you ask, squeezing your thighs together and storing that mental image away for later. He’s been obsessed with trying to figure out who was leaving these gifts in his locker, but thankfully he’s never been too hot on your tail.
“I just can’t find a pattern,” he grumbles. “It’s too random! All I got is the notes never show up during classes, so she has to either be coming way early in the morning or leaving them after school.” It was the latter, but you weren’t going to say that. “I’m going to find out who she is though, mark my words.”
“Well, good luck with that,” you laugh, crossing your fingers in the pocket of your hoodie.
A few days pass, and the weight on your shoulders doesn’t lighten. You’ve come to the conclusion that you have to fess up. It was the right thing to do, and Eddie wasn’t the type to judge unless being judged first. So hopefully in the unfortunate circumstance that he doesn’t return your feelings your acquaintanceship would still remain intact.
The woods behind the school were dim. The sun was just setting and dusk was falling over Hawkins. You were overdue for a re-up, and after a phone call to the Munson residence you were instructed to wait where the two of you usually do deals. You already weren’t overly fond of Eddie’s unsettling choice of a meeting spot, and now that the sun was starting to set earlier in the day that chill in your spine was especially present. The one thing distracting you from your paranoia was the fact that he’d surely bring up the note you’d left for him yesterday, and you were dreading having to play pretend again. You were going to come clean- you promised yourself- but today was not the day. Deep in your thoughts about how and when you were eventually going to do it, you nearly jump out of your skin when a twig snaps behind you.
“Just me,” Eddie calls out from the opening in the trees, “don’t get your panties in a twist.”
“Yeah, you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” you respond with a shaky laugh as he saunters toward you with total ease, completely unaffected by the eerie creepiness of the darkening forest.
“I cannot tell a lie,” he says back once he’s within arms reach of you. He looks you up and down with an unfamiliar expression, but your growing anxiety forces you to hold back the questions that you’re tempted to ask him.
“Here,” you say, holding up a ten and a five. He takes it from you wordlessly and tucks it into his back pocket before slipping his hand into his leather jacket and fishing out a small ziplock baggie. You catch it midair when he tosses it to you, and the prickling sensation of his eyes never leaving your face has you itching to lessen the tension.
“Why do we have to meet here?” you ask, hoping that making light conversation will break Eddie from whatever weird mood he’s in. “You know I hate it.”
He finally takes his eyes off of you so that he can roll them, his teeth glinting in the small amount of light when he smiles wide. “I’ve told you time and time again, no one comes out here. We’re safe, we’re alone.”
His emphasis on the word ‘alone’ strikes you as rather strange, but you elect to ignore it.
“Besides,” he continues with a nonchalant shrug, “it’s not like you ever showed me where you live.”
“Oh,” you murmur, taken aback. You could have sworn you’ve seen him driving past your house before, and you could have sworn he waved back when you did. Maybe he didn’t realize it was you? Maybe he only waved to be polite? “Well, uh… I can tell you now, I guess? Unless you want me to, like, write it down somewhere. Do you have a pen or something?”
Eddie reaches back into his jacket pocket and pulls out a black sharpie before shrugging off the leather and denim vest combo to lay it on the picnic table. “Ink me up,” he says, handing the marker to you and presenting his forearm.
Uncapping the marker, you take his arm in your hands. Your fingers brush his bat tattoos as you angle his arm toward you, and you have to fight to keep your face neutral as you write out your address. Your skin tingles yet again with the feeling of Eddie’s gaze on you as you drag the felt tip over his skin, and you don’t even realize you were holding your breath until you recap the marker and give it back to him. He takes it without breaking eye contact and tossing it next to his discarded jacket. Finally, he looks away to read his arm, and his face breaks out into a toothy grin. He barks out a short laugh, throwing his head back with glee as you watch him with a curious expression.
“What is it?” you ask. You can’t find any reason he would find where you live to be funny, so his uncalled for reaction was very puzzling.
He lowers his head to look at you once more, his smile never faltering. “Your handwriting,” is all he offers as an explanation, and with a start you realize your mistake.
Your eyes go wide as you drop the plastic baggie and it lands at your feet. Your stomach flips, your hands shake, you don’t know what to do. “Uh, i-it’s not… I don’t- um,” you stutter out, desperately searching for some kind of excuse or alibi. From the way you’re scrambling, the truth is crystal clear.
“You left me a note yesterday,” he says, cutting you off and placing his hands on your shoulder to help calm your panicking. “You wrote something that reminded me of the other day, when we were smoking in the back of my van. Do you remember?” You simply shake your head in response, your tongue feels too heavy in your mouth to form words. “I said that thing about wanting to find out who ‘Mystery Girl’ is and eat her out in the parking lot.”
The memory floods back to you, his voice reverberating in your mind. ‘If only I could catch her in the act, I’d drag her from my locker straight to this spot without even saying anything and eat her out in the school parking lot.’ Now that he’s mentioned it, you can’t believe what a foolish blunder you’ve made. His description weaseled its way into your subconscious, and without thinking through your actions you had accidentally echoed his fantasy back to him in your most recent letter. That, combined with the proof of your handwriting, was too much evidence to talk your way out of this situation. The only thing left to do was hope that he felt the same.
“You’re not upset?” you ask, something foreign swirling in your stomach and rising to your chest.
“… Upset?” he scoffs, like the mere suggestion was absurd. “I hoped it was you from the very first note.”
That leaves you speechless. All those long nights of tossing and turning over whether or not he’d ever look at you the way you looked at him suddenly feel silly. You’re so taken aback that you forget to respond, and you stand there unmoving with his hands on you. Time moves slowly as you watch him bridge the gap between the both of you.
His lips meet yours hungrily. You can tell from the determination behind the kiss that he’s done holding back, which works out greatly in your favor considering that you are too. Fingernails scratch your scalp as he tangles his fingers into your hair and tugs, eliciting a high pitched gasp from you. With your mouth now opened, he wastes no time and licks his way in. He tastes sweet, like he had a cola before coming here, but also like he had a smoke or two. It doesn’t bother you, in fact it only turns you on more. Your hands grasp at his shirt, and the fabric is softer than you figured it would be. It’s slightly worn out and obviously well loved, and the thought of you wearing it around his trailer after spending the night in his bed has you almost purring. Without warning, Eddie snakes his arm around your waist and manhandles you to be sitting on the edge of the table. He’s standing over you, staring you down with a wild look in his eyes.
“You’ve been a very bad girl,” he growls as he strokes your cheekbone with his thumb. His other hand rests on the front of your throat, applying light pressure. His grip tightens when you swallow, and his thumb on your cheek moves down to swipe across your lips, threatening to enter. “Acting like a naughty fucking slut. Driving me crazy with your filthy little love letters. I think it’s about time we act out a few of them, don’t you?”
“H- here?” you ask. Warmth trickles throughout your body at the insinuation, and though you know you should be opposed, the suggestion of him taking you right here in the woods sounds like heaven.
His eyes soften briefly, and his hold on your throat loosens. “I promise we’re alone, don’t worry. But we don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”
“I want to,” you quickly proclaim as you wrap both of your hands around the wrist by your neck and keep him there firmly, making sure he doesn’t let go. “I want this, Eddie. I want you.”
He smiles sweetly and tightens his grip on your neck once more. “I want you too, sweetheart,” he whispers before wetting his lips and speaking up, “Okay. If I do something you don’t like, say ‘red light’. Do you understand?”
“I understand,” you confirm, nodding your head as best as you can with his hand in the way.
“I won’t stop unless you say ‘red light’, that’s very important. Not even if you say ‘no’, or ‘stop’, or if you start crying. You get what I’m telling you?” His expression is deadly serious, but his tone is slightly patronizing. For some reason, the manner in which he’s talking like he knows more than you is extremely arousing, and you want nothing more than to give in to him and let him take control.
He won’t continue until he knows you’re well versed with the arrangement, so you force down any nervousness in your voice as you respond. “Yes, Eddie. I understand what you’re telling me,” you say, eagerness thinly veiled. You sound desperate, even to yourself, but you can’t find it in you to care.
He lets go of you, causing your hands to slip off of his arm, and he pushes you harshly so that your back meets the wood. Your feet leave the ground as he raises your legs and scoots you back on the table until you’re fully laying on it lengthwise. Both of your wrists are pinned above your head before you even realize what’s happening, and he’s climbing on top of you and crashing his lips to yours yet again. You’re completely trapped, unable to move or even squirm with his full weight weighing you down, but you love it. Your head feels dizzy, as if you had already smoked the contents of the baggie that lays forgotten on the forest floor. Teeth sink into your bottom lip- not hard enough to draw blood, but surely enough to leave an indent. The subtle sting has you moaning into him, and he smiles against you.
“You have no idea what you’ve been doing to me this year,” he says as he props himself up on his elbows. His hair and necklace dangle down, swaying in the wind close to your face. “All the times I’ve fucked my fist to what you wrote me. We have a lot to make up for, but I think you need to be taught a little lesson first.”
Your eyebrows furrowed together. “I do?” you ask, wondering what he had in mind. There was a world of possibilities, many of which you’d outlined in your letters.
“I’d say so,” he says as he hooks his hand behind your neck and pulls you up. “So you’re going to do exactly as I say, okay sweetheart?”
You nod dumbly, already in a headspace that’ll have you agreeing to anything he requested.
He smirks, face full of smug authority. “Good girl.”
Those words of praise fill you with pride. He takes your hips and stands you up before maneuvering you around him and jumping onto the table himself. “Come here,” he says, motioning to his legs, “lay across my lap.”
Immediately, his intention is clear. You had written to him about wanting to feel the sharp sting of him spanking you on the soft flesh of your ass as you were bent over his knee. You quickly crawl over him and rest your stomach on top of his thighs, and the light touch of his fingertips ghosts over your lower back. The sensation makes you noticeably shiver, and you swear you feel him shake with silent amusement. Your knees hit the table- they would surely not survive this exchange without getting scraped up, but the uncomfortable rubbing of wood against your skin feels uncharacteristically pleasant.
“Rings on or off?” he asks. It’ll hurt more with the metal adorning his fingers, but you want it to hurt.
“On.”
His palm flattens against your backside, rubbing at it up and down in deceivingly comforting motions, before briefly breaking contact and smacking down hard right in the center of your left butt cheek. A loud moan involuntarily comes from deep within you. The blow wasn’t too painful considering the thick fabric of your sweatpants were able to cushion it, but you craved skin on skin impact.
“Eddie, oh my god,” you whine out, arching your back. Eddie’s other hand moves back to the front of your neck and holds it just loose enough that you can still breathe.
“Now, now. That’s not what you called me in your letters,” he says, punctuating the end of his sentence with another slap to your rear, this time on the opposite cheek.
You know exactly what he’s hinting at. “Daddy,” you correct yourself, “Daddy, please!”
“Atta girl,” he whispers, soothing the area he just struck with a rub. He hooks his fingers into the waistband of your sweats and tugs them down to your thighs, and after you lift your hips he pulls off your sneakers then removes your pants the rest of the way. With them gone, the cold air of the evening has goosebumps littering the skin of your legs. “Skimpy panties,” he says, louder this time. “You wear these for me?”
“All my underwear is like this,” you tell him with a shy shrug. They were cotton, dark gray- almost black- and offered barely more coverage than a thong would.
“Oh?” he hums. “So you really are a whore, huh?”
He snaps the elastic without warning and you yelp in surprise. Then, he strikes down again, and his palm slapping your bare skin makes you instinctively attempt to muffle your moans in your elbow. His hold on your throat disappears when he harshly grabs your hand and pins it behind your back, then takes the other and does the same. You feel shuffling, and suddenly there’s fabric being looped around your wrists. When you look behind you, the bandana from his back pocket is tying your hands together.
“I don’t think so,” he says as he finishes tightening the knot, “I wanna hear all the pretty little noises you make for me. We can be as loud as we want, baby. No one’s gonna hear us. You trust me, right?”
“Yes daddy,” you answer. “I trust you.”
“Good girl.”
His hand returned to your throat and squeezed. The sounds of cursing and moaning fill the air as he brutally spanks you over and over and over. The rings you told him to keep on feel like electricity zaps every time they meet your ass, and each time he raises his arm your muscles tense up with anticipation. One tear streaks down your cheek, then two, and they tickle as they fall but you’re unable to wipe them away due to your restraints. They pass your jaw and wet Eddie’s hand, and it’s only then that he stops his attacks.
“Are you crying?” he asks, though there’s no remorse in his tone. “You remember what I told you to say if it got to be too much?” You nod your head, but don’t verbally answer. “Tell me now, as a test. This is the only time it won’t count.”
“Y- you told me to say ‘red light’,” you say with a shaky voice. There was pain present, for sure, but the pleasure was overwhelming.
“Good girl,” he replies while massaging the soreness away from your ass. “And don’t be afraid of disappointing me. I want you to use that if you’re even a little bit unsure. Promise me.”
He’s not asking, he’s demanding. “Yes daddy,” you say, “I promise.”
The crotch of your panties are pushed to the side as he dips the tip of his finger into your folds, then runs it up and down along your slit. A deep guttural groan escapes you and your forehead hits the table with a light thud. He must have let go of your throat at some point when you were distracted by his thumb brushing against your clit, and his newly free hand makes a fist in your hair. He tugs at it- mostly gentle, but the bite is still there. His thumb continues to circle your clit as one of his fingers prods at your seeping hole, pushing up against the outside without entering.
“Please, daddy, I need it,” you beg, trying to force him inside by backing into it as much as you can. “Please fuck me with your fingers, need it so bad.”
“Listen to you. You sound like such a dirty fucking slut,” he laughs, still teasing your entrance. “But that’s what you are right? Say it.”
“I’m a slut,” you say. “I’m a dirty fucking slut, okay?”
He hums his approval as his grip on your hair tightens, pulling it even more. “And whose slut are you?”
“Yours!” you exclaim. “I’m your slut, daddy. I belong to you.”
“That’s right.”
His finger plunges into you, deep and fast, and his thumb keeps its relentless pace as what feels like his middle finger pumps in and out. He reaches a spot in you that you’ve never explored before, and with his finger crooked he hits it so perfectly with every thrust. Something in your belly starts to tighten, and it’s getting dangerously close to snapping.
“I’m gonna cum, daddy!” you cry out, tears still falling down your cheeks. Eddie suddenly releases your hair and pulls his finger out of you, laughing at your whines of protest.
“Calm down,” he says as you start kicking your legs out, “I’m gonna let you cum, I just think you’ll like cumming on daddy’s cock even more.”
He slides his hand under your sweater, takes a hold of the back strap of your bra, and uses it as leverage to hoist you up onto your knees. Then, he wraps his arms around your waist and moves you onto his lap. Hardness pokes your center and the thin cotton of your panties do little to protect you from the harsh denim of his jeans rubbing against you. Now sitting astride on top of him, you can finally kiss him again. He happily obliges, and you feel his smile against your pouted lips when your arms start to struggle. You wanted to run your hands through his hair so bad that you completely forgot about the bandana binding your wrists together. Eddie deepens the kiss, his tongue parting your lips as he holds you so tight you’re half-worried your sides will be bruised. When he pulls away, a string of saliva follows and hits your chin when it breaks. Loose threads of your sweater tickle your nose as it gets lifted over your head and falls behind your back, still connected by your arms. The cups of your bra are pushed up to reveal your breasts, and Eddie’s mouth is on them in an instant. Small whimpers go ignored as he nips at the sensitive skin there and licks over your erect nipples.
After showing love to your bare chest for a couple minutes, he raises you off of him. He’s careful to cradle your head as he gently lays you down on the picnic table again, this time horizontally so that your feet rest on the connected seat. Your weight is crushing your hands that are still tied behind you, so you have no choice but to arch your back. Once you’re situated, he stands back and practically trips over his own feet as he rips his shirt from his body and kicks his shoes off. When they’re out of the way, he pulls off his jeans. Your neck strains to look at him, and the hilarity of him standing there, nude except for socks and boxers, with a very obvious boner in the openness of the woods behind the high school almost made you burst out laughing. The laugh dies in your throat when his thumbs dip into the waistband of his underwear and push them down. His cock springs up to his naval, slightly curving and leaking from the tip. The sight of what you’ve been dreaming of for all these months had your mouth watering and your cunt clenching around nothing.
Eddie shakes the boxers from his ankles and stares at you lustfully as he takes the sides of your panties. You raise your hips to help, and he must be growing restless as well because he yanks them down your thighs and off your legs in a matter of milliseconds. When your feet meet the wood of the seat again, he’s already lifting one of his legs onto it, so your heel touches his. He places both his hands on your knees and spreads them apart as wide as they’ll go. The air feels cold on your soaked center, and there’s definitely some of your arousal that’s dripping onto the table beneath you. It occurs to you that he’ll remember fucking you here everytime he does a deal with someone else, and that thought fills you with pride.
He closes the space between you two and his shaft presses along your slit- evoking a choked groan from the both of you- and his hands begin kneading at your naked breasts. Your clit is still sensitive from the edging you endured just minutes earlier, and the pressure sends shocks throughout your body. You desperately start gyrating your hips, hoping to alleviate at least some of the want inside of you. Eddie gets the message and starts grinding as well, and from his advantage point he’s able to do so with much more force. The head of his dick rubs your clit up and down with each thrust, and it becomes too much to bear.
“Please fuck me already,” you beg. “Need it, need it so bad.”
“Such a fucking whore, begging for my dick,” he says through clenched teeth, still rocking against you roughly. “You want me that bad, sweetheart? You’re that needy?”
You close your eyes and nod yes frantically, so hard that the back of your head bangs the table. The grinding stops, and you cry out in exasperation. When you look back up, Eddie is leaning over and combing through the pockets of his jacket that laid beside you. A noise of triumph tells you that he’s found what he was searching for, and he pulls out a little foil packet that was buried in the leather. He bites down on the jagged edge and tears it open with his teeth before turning his head and spitting out the trash. Once the condom is free and the rest of the packaging is also littered on the ground, he backs away slightly to roll it down his shaft. The rubber tip is placed on his head and you watch on mesmerized as he wraps his fist around his cock and strokes down until the latex is fully in place. Then, finally, he closes the distance again and teases your hole for only a moment before slowly sliding into you. Moans escape from you both. Having him inside after all this time had you cursing yourself for playing games for so long.
“You okay?” he asks, breathy and low. You can tell he wants to let go, but he’s holding back to ensure you’re ready.
“Yes,” you respond in a similar voice. “Please fuck me, daddy. Waited so long.”
“I know, baby, I know,” he says as he leans down and kisses you softly on the lips, then again on your cheek and lastly on your neck. “Me too.”
He starts moving then, still slow, determined to open you up and get you properly prepared for the oncoming onslaught. Your legs wrap around his waist and you use this hold to force him deeper, but he’s stronger than you. His pelvis kept its steady pace, and now you were crying out of impatience.
“Look so fucking pretty crying for me,” he grunts, one word for each achingly slow thrust. “So fucking desperate to be fucked like a whore. Be used like a slut. Is that what you want? For me to use you for what I need?”
“Yes!” you scream, “Yes, please. Please daddy, fuck me harder. Use me like a slut.”
“Okay, pretty girl, you asked for it,” he warns.
His rhythm picks up, and now he’s slamming into you with abandon. The sounds uncontrollably coming out of you are lewd and disgusting, but you don’t feel any shame anymore. All you care about is the feeling of him so deep inside, hitting that perfect spot over and over like he was made for you. It’s never been this perfect the first time, and you never want to have a first time ever again. The vigorous pounding drives you toward your climax at top speed, and you cling to your resolve as much as you can. You don’t want it to be over so soon, but it’s just so, so good. You can’t imagine a world where sex is always this good, but you have a suspicion that Eddie’s going to show you that world many times over.
Your legs tighten around his waist and your nails dig into your palms as his hips snap against your pelvis hard and rough repeatedly. When one of his hands leaves your chest to rub circles on your clit, you know you won’t be able to fight off your orgasm any longer. It washes over you like a tsunami, and the experience is full-body. Eddie falls onto you and mouths at your jaw lazily. He keeping fucking you through it, but the twitching of his cock inside you and the faltering of his tempo lets you know that he’s cumming too.
“F- fuck, Eddie!” you yell with your head thrown back. “Oh god, so good. Daddy!”
“You’re so good, baby. Such a sweet little pussy. So fucking tight, feels so right.” He’s slurring his compliments, head somewhere else as he rambles aimlessly into your heated skin.
The next thirty seconds consists of you switching between crying out ‘Eddie’ and ‘daddy’ as he rocks in and out, his pace slowing with each passing second. Eventually, the overstimulation is too much for the both of you and he stops, still fully sheathed inside. He relaxes on top of you and rests there, catching his breath while you try to do the same. Everything is fuzzy, like you’re trapped in a haze, and you don’t know how best to describe it other than the world feels blurry. You’re brought back to reality when he starts kissing your neck again, mouth open, warm and wet and perfect. His teeth scrape against your throat as his lips make their way to the other side of your neck, and once he’s satisfied with the trail of spit left behind he lifts his head and weakly pulls out of you.
He stumbles back and briefly takes the time to find his bearings before helping you to sit up. Once you’re upright, he wraps his arms around you as if he were going for a hug, and kisses you as he unties the bandana around your wrists. Newly free from your restraints, you wind your hands around his shoulders and hold him close so that you can deepen the kiss. He returns the favor just as passionately. You stay like that for an excessive amount of time until a particularly strong wind reminds you both that you were still outside in the woods, and it was starting to get pretty dark. Reluctantly, he breaks the embrace with a gentle caress to your cheek then collects your pants and underwear from their place on the ground, handing them back to you.
After you both finish getting dressed, you feel Eddie’s hand on your shoulder as he brushes past you to walk a couple paces to the left. He picks up the bag of weed you dropped earlier then reaches into his back pocket and pulls something else out.
“Here,” he says, handing you the baggie as well as the fifteen dollars you had paid him.
“You’re giving me the money back?” you say, confusion and fear creeping into your gut. “I hope you’re not used to getting sex as payment for drugs, cause that’s not what’s happening here.”
“Of course not,” he scoffs as he steps closer and stuffs the weed and dollar bills in the pockets of your sweats, “But being my girl comes with free merchandise privileges. What kind of boyfriend would I be if I had you paying?”
“Is that what I am?” you respond, a smile betraying your faux casual attitude. “Your girlfriend?”
“How many times have I told you that the girl leaving those letters was the girl of my dreams?” he laughs, throwing his arm around your shoulder as he begins to guide you toward the opening in the trees. “You’re mine now. That is- if you want to be?”
The worry behind that question is clear, and you squash it down instantly. “I want to be,” you answer.
“Good,” he says, pulling you into him and kissing your hairline, “Cause there’s no way in hell I’m letting you get away that easily.”
#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson smut#eddie munson fanfic#stranger things x reader#stranger things x you#stranger things smut#stranger things fanfic
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nsfw text, bdsm, sub eddie
Eddie’s always the more dominant one running the show with his hookups. It’s nice but it’s been so long since someone put him down, cleared his mind of everything except pleasing and being pleased.
He doesn’t know why he complains about it to Steve, who’s as golden vanilla as they come, who only offers a snort as he passes the joint back, “Eddie Munson can’t find someone who wants to slap him around? I can’t believe it.”
Eddie takes a disgruntled puff as Steve suggests he looks through their old high school yearbook, call up some of those guys that would gladly take a swing at him.
Eddie tries to tell him it’s not just about getting slapped around, it’s the whole mentality of it. The weed must be getting to his head, he can’t find the right words, but Eddie being Eddie, nerdy about anything that piques his interest, from dnd to submission, he’s got it all written down in his journal.
He’s not even all that high, doesn’t know why he willingly hands it over to Steve beside him on the couch, or why his neck prickles with heat even though few things truly embarrass him, or why it feels kinda good.
Steve almost teases him again but Eddie already looks strangely timid about showing him. It’s Eddie, so writing a guide for his weird sex is a very Eddie thing, and maybe Steve’s a little endeared by it, whatever. So he doesn’t joke, he blinks the glaze from his eyes and scans the page.
He doesn’t know a ton about this stuff, nothing beyond a couple girls asking him to spank them a little or rest a hand on their throat, it gave him a rush too but he tried not to think too hard about why. He expects to see things like that in Eddie’s journal and yeah there’s some, but also, Eddie’s written out why he wants what he wants.
His mind is loud. That riot of energy that surrounds Eddie, it’s hectic inside too, buzzing next to Steve even now. Almost a magnetic pull, sometimes Steve gives in, touches Eddie’s shoulder or his knee, just to feel his static, how it flutters and then calms under his hand. To be settled, Eddie’s journal says, to let his mind float, to feel nothing but intensely good, to trust someone else to think for him.
Steve’s seen Eddie parading around, the way he basks in any kind of attention and clearly enjoys having his way, but Steve can see the thrill of having that taken away from him. To be put down, the journal says, made to feel small with words, some mean and some sweet, with hands, both rough and soft. Eddie wants to be held down and fucked, overwhelmed to tears and praised for taking it, to be told he’s a good boy despite himself.
Steve’s face heats, doesn’t know why he’s thinking about what it’s like to make Eddie Munson feel small, to turn all his big fancy words to mush in that loud mouth that drives Steve crazy sometimes, to be the one this absolute hell of a boy wants to be good for.
Eddie suddenly reaches out, “Okay I think that’s—”
“Wait, I wasn’t done,” Steve holds onto the journal, but doesn’t keep reading, seeing how Eddie looks more flustered than Steve’s ever seen him.
“Harrington, this is getting kinda humiliating, man.”
Steve smirks before he can stop himself. “Thought that’s what you wanted.”
Eddie’s eyes go wide, sinking back against the couch. His face flushes slightly red in a way that puts a strange flutter in Steve’s stomach, seeing how he affected Eddie like that. His hand lands on Eddie’s thigh before he realizes he’s reaching out, feeling how he tenses then relaxes under the touch, looking as silently shocked as Steve feels.
“Not judging, Eddie, I swear. Just let me finish reading, okay?”
Eddie scoffs a nervous laugh, fidgeting and covering his mouth as he nods.
Steve goes back to the journal and his hand tightens just a bit when he sees what’s there. Eddie mutters something, biting down on his knuckles but he doesn’t pull away. It all makes Steve‘s palm heat up against his thigh, reading the next thing Eddie wants.
To be spanked, just hard enough, it’s more about the shame of the sting, the rush that comes from being a little helpless, the release that comes when his body accepts it all as pleasure. Steve pictures it, Eddie Munson, who treats life like a stage only he was meant to walk on, bent over and taking each hit. The way he’d writhe and bask in the humiliation, finally getting treated like the little star of the freakshow he loves to be.
The flutter in Steve’s stomach twists tight and hot because in his weed-hazy mind, it’s his lap that Eddie is lying across, it’s his palm stinging and making Eddie whimper, it’s him that Eddie’s looking up at with watery eyes begging to be ruined.
Steve swallows thickly when he comes to the next thing. The handcuffs. He’s always been transfixed by Eddie’s hands, how nice they look in all his bulky silver rings and chain bracelets.
He wonders if Eddie would look even better in handcuffs.
His eyes wander over to Eddie’s hands again, where he still happens to have two fingers bitten between his teeth, cheeks flushed and eyes widened at Steve. It’s a sight Steve doesn’t have time to really revel in how it makes him feel because Eddie darts forward, snatching the journal.
“Alright okay, I think you get it, the freak is into freaky shit, big surprise.”
Steve drags a hand through his hair, plays it cool even though he’s hot all over for some reason. “Yeah, you’re pretty freaky, but it doesn’t seem like much you’re asking for. I mean, nothing I couldn’t see myself doing.”
And Steve didn’t mean it like that, did he? Eddie seems to think so, he starts floundering to put the journal away, nervously laughing and muttering again. Steve watches him, trying to figure out why he likes seeing Eddie so flustered, then Eddie suddenly stops.
His eyes flick down to Steve’s lap and—
Oh.
“Steve… why do you have a boner right now?”
#this one’s from twt hehe#steddie#steddie smut#eddie munson#rueswriting#steve harrington#steddie fic#steddie ficlet#mp
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CALL IT DOUBLE TROUBLE — F. READER x GOJO SATORU & GETO SUGURU, who have a habit of sharing everything
It’s been a while since you last saw your college ex-boyfriend Gojo and a Halloween party led to your reconnection. It was cool to see him again, although your break-up was messy. What turned out to be a plot twist, was that he now has a handsome best friend and together, they are deadly.
cw: smut, exes to lovers, strangers to lovers, threesome, double penetration, praise, cum play, oral (f & m receiving), su*cide is mentioned (no description, just brief mention), reader discretion is advised — 6k words
masterlist
a/n: with that post I'm concluding the kinktober - sorry about the delay! work overwhelmed me, it sucked the life out of me, but I'll be getting back to writing now, so stay tuned! also, we hit 1300 followers, so I just want to say thank you so much for being here and reading the shit I post!
You were never that big on parties – you found them mostly annoying with the masses pushing and pulling all around you, drunk assholes that never seem to understand how consent works and even more drunk girls, that throw themselves at anyone slightly attractive. At least that’s how you remember every party you were on during your college years. You experienced firsthand how much effort men can put into chasing a hem of a mini skirt and you also saw in real life, how women were flexing their assets just to get into the pants they want. Unfortunately, usually pants that were in the biggest demand, were coincidentally belonging to your boyfriend. Uh, yeah, maybe that’s why you don’t really like parties.
Dating Satoru Gojo was a blessing, in some parts – he was just lovely to you. He was caring, to some extent, he was sweet-talking you into everything he wanted, and his arrogance always seemed to fly right over your head, but you loved him for longer than he deserved. You trusted him to not sleep with those eagerly spreading girls and he never did. At least that’s what you like to believe. Flirting with them – that was a different story. Satoru was an attention whore, really. He was basking in the gazes glued to him, the salivating mouths were feeding his already enormous ego and he seemed to have the time of his life pulling the strings of those poor, naïve girls that every time believed him when he told them they are just so pretty. His crystalline blue eyes were capable of turning lesbians into straight and straights into gay. The number of suggestive pictures he posed for flooded your social media each time after the parties you attended with him, and not one of those pictures he’s ever taken with you. And then, after leaving the frat houses and clubs, he would tell you how lucky you are to have him, how all of those silly girls were offering him their pussies oh so eagerly. He’d tell you how they envied you. All while he’d fuck you. You spent two years with him, then came the break-up and just as everything that involved Satoru was messy – so was your parting.
You really had no pleasure in partying, after freeing yourself from the toxicity of Gojo, you finally found peace. You flew through college with ease and after it ended, you found yourself quite a nice job – you were okay without attending any kinds of alcohol and loud music related people gatherings. That’s until Shoko called you earlier that month, practically begging you to pay her a visit on Halloween. She was in the city, having her family house all to her disposal due to her family being on a trip somewhere warm. It was a party where all of your college, mutual friends were going to be, a little reconnection if you will and she insisted you show up as well. It really sounded lovely to see where all of your friends landed in lives. With some you still had a regular contact, but some just went their ways and you rarely crossed paths with them, so you agreed to be there. That was a perfect opportunity to catch up and you were excited.
For some unknown reason, not even once you considered Gojo to be there as well. You just kind of pushed the memory of him to the back of your head, you removed him from the picture of your mutual circle of friends and completely you forgot that he’ll most likely be there as well. You realized it when Shoko asked you about him.
“Have you seen Gojo already?”, her tone was quite cautious when she mentioned the name to you, and with the way you looked at her from above your dying cigarette, she spoke again, “You know he’s gonna be there as well, don’t you?”
“Guess I blacked out that possibility,” you mumbled, shrugging softly to shake off the uneasiness of the thought and killing the cig in the sink before throwing it away. “No, I haven’t seen him and I hope it will stay that way.”
“Oh, you’re still wounded after him?”
“No, Sho, I’m not wounded,” you grabbed yourself a red cup from the array on one of the tables in the kitchen. You had no idea what concoction of liquid courage was inside every each of them, but you really couldn’t care less. If that was one of your first parties in years, you were not going to be picky and you trusted Shoko enough to not have death in those cups. “I’m really not. Thing is… I don’t know, it’s been so many years, I’m not really sure what to even tell him. We broke up in a mess that wasn’t addressed ever since, so you know.”
“Yeah, right, I remember the insanity of that action. Gojo was haunting my dreams for two weeks after the suicidal stunt he pulled off.” Ieiri flinched at the memory but laughed right after realizing how stupid all of that was. “He was a drama queen, we have to give him that.”
“See?”
“Well, you’ll most likely see him anyway, so just a hi will be good.”
“Noted.”
She left you to greet someone, and you shook your head, hoping to get rid of the flashbacks, but they were inevitable, you guessed it. Long time after ending things with Gojo you couldn’t find peace after what happened. You think you will forever remember the argument that unraveled after you told him you’re breaking up with him. There was so much screaming, your head pounded with pain for two days straight after that. Nothing more than accusing of the most bizarre shits and poison was spilling from his mouth when, for the first time, Satoru Gojo was informed that someone else is leaving him. Usually, it was him who ended things up, it was him who was cutting the strings and he was too immature back then to come to terms that other people are also entitled to just go away. You remember he went completely feral, almost psychotic as he was laughing at some point, throwing ironic insults at you as if it was gonna make you stay. He had to prove a point that it’s not you who want to leave him. It’s him who want to break up and you just accidentally happened telling him that before he managed to do so. After that, he threatened you that he will kill himself and he made it everybody’s problem – you had to know it, Shoko had to know it and every single one of your friends had to know it as well. You heard from Ieiri that after about three weeks he got back to being his usual arrogant playboy, as if he didn’t just cause drama of the century. He moved on. Traumatized everyone around him, but moved on nonetheless. Now you found the situation kind of funny. You were just kids and you were not meant to be together. That’s just how life works and you wondered sometimes if Satoru learned a little more life after that or did he stay the same.
Sighing again, you took the cup and slipped in between people in the living room, stepping outside to breathe some fresh air on the terrace, thankful that no one was there. Or so you thought and no wonder you almost jumped out of your own skin when you heard a voice right next to you.
“Fire?” He asked, after a moment of watching you search for the lighter in the pockets of your makeshift schoolgirl uniform. The unlit cigarette in your mouth betraying what you were looking for.
His tone was soft, saccharine sweet and calm at the same time and as you looked up at him, it somewhat matched the picture that met your eyes. The man was tall and broad, dressed all in black with dress pants and a hoodie. His sleeves half up, exposing the veiny forearms as he was keeping his lighter visible, ready to give you a hand.
“Yes, please,” you replied finally, leaning into the fire he opened and with relief you take the first breath in. You were not a smoker in your day-to-day life. One pack of cigarettes lasted you a year, but it was Shoko’s influence that today made you poison your lungs more than usual. “Thanks.”
“I’m Suguru. Geto Suguru,” he introduced himself, offering you his palm and you gave it a short squeeze, telling him your own name. You couldn’t find his face in your memories, and you’d like to think that such handsome features would tattoo themselves into your brain in one way or another. He had to come with someone else, you figured. Probably a boyfriend or a husband even. You couldn’t care less about asking. “Enjoying the party?”
“I’m not big on parties, really,” you shrugged, keeping your gaze away from him because hell, he made it so easy to stare with his long luscious, black hair resting over his shoulders and back, half tied up in a little bun just to get them out of his face. You couldn’t tell what his costume was, he had some kind of alternative style going on, slightly rocker vibes with his pierced ears and silver chains hanging from his neck, but it might have as well be his usual style – he looked good in it. He most certainly looked like a big, red flag but hell was the flag attractive.
“I see. Well, I’m not either,” he confessed, huffing out a greyish cloud of smoke out of his lungs and by the smell of it, you could tell it wasn’t nicotine.
“What you’re smoking?”
“Weed, why? Wanna try it?” It was an offer that you should politely say no to, but it was your first and probably last party in a while, so you asked yourself why not and took the joint from his fingers.
“So, you’re here with someone?” you questioned, just to keep the conversation going once you gave him the smoke back. You could feel the unfamiliar but somehow pleasant burn in your lungs after the drag you took and slowly you blew the fume out. Suguru found the view attractive. Sharing a joint with you felt a little more intimate than it should have, the way your lips wrapped around the brownish paper made him wonder how would they look wrapped around something else. Thoughts like this shouldn’t bloom in his head right after he’s met you, not when he’s an adult man, not a stupid kid anymore, but some things couldn’t be stopped.
“Yeah,” he inhaled once more, deeply enough to kill the joint and throw it away. You watched for a moment how he kept the smoke in his lungs, letting it go after a moment. The cloud escaping through his mouth and nose in a soft stream. Fuck, what a gorgeous man. Whoever was the girl that got him had to be lucky. “You know him, he told me about you.”
Oh, never mind.
“He? Ah, fuck, don’t tell me you came here with that idiot,” you reached down for your cup that few moments prior you put on the ground while searching for a lighter.
“Ow, you’re hurting my feelings, sweetheart.”
And there he was. You wondered where that tower of an asshole hid.
Once you look back at Geto, there was also Satoru. He was standing next to his friend slash partner, with his forearm propped over Suguru’s shoulder as he looked at you from above the black glasses, with the very familiar grin painted on his face. Gojo changed a lot since you last saw him. He was now buffier, seemed even taller than you remembered, and his facial features matured – his jaw became more square, eyes a little more lidded and even the smirk on his lips seemed less playboy-ish and more menacingly manly. He lost his princess looks and became a man. You wondered if his character changed as well, because you could still see him using his looks to take what he wanted.
“Oh, do I?” You questioned, eyeing him up and down. His clothes were almost exactly the same as Geto’s – only difference being the light color and the fact his sweatshirt had no hood. What he was wearing completely contrasted to what his friend had on and it made sense if they were here together. Black and white, like yin and yang. You had no idea if they were here as friends or lovers, but either way, you wouldn’t be surprised.
“You sure do,” Satoru shook his head, his smile now more friendly as he approached you, entrapping you in a hug that surely took you by surprise. “It’s good to see you, beautiful.”
“You too,” you guessed, not completely convinced about what you just said but you let it be.
“I’m sorry. I have to say it before you run away from me. I’m really sorry, I was a dick when we were dating,” Gojo’s voice reached your ears directly, but you had a hard time believing what you were hearing. He was never a type to apologize for anything. Please, sorry and thank you is a set of words that you were certain he never used and yet there he was, saying just that. He really evolved. Or he wanted something.
“Yeah, you were. Hope you’re not anymore,” you chuckled softly, brushing your hand over his side.
“I try not to be,” he confessed quietly, pressing a tender kiss to the side of your neck before letting go of you. He shouldn’t have kiss you like that, but the feeling of longing was way stronger than him. Even if for a moment, he had to just have a little taste of you.
Ever since you broke up, Gojo had no idea how much he missed having you in his arms. Up until that night he was okay with some random girls coming into and getting out of his bed with no strings attached. He seemed to be unable to form a lasting relationship after you, you were his first and last girlfriend that he committed to for so long, no matter how poorly. Even if he was nothing but an asshole to you, he often wished to marry you back in the college. Even if he couldn’t possibly show you how much he cared, because his childish behaviors were standing in the way of him reaching your heart properly, he really thought you will be the one and only in his life and even if he seemed to move on so quickly after you broke up with him, it was only for show. A cover up for the thunderstorm that was raging inside his chest, a band aid over the bleeding wound. No other girl was able to even half-fill the emptiness you left in his heart.
You were special to him and it thrilled him to the core when for the first time he heard from Shoko that you agreed to be there, because if it wasn’t for you, he wouldn’t show up as well. His time for partying finished along with his fourth year of college, when he realized there was less and less fun in drinking alcohol and forcing himself into flirting. When it came to you, he had never needed to force himself to do anything. He was just an immature kid when you dated, but he loved the time you gave him.
And now, you were still fitting perfectly into his body. As if he was made from memory foam that still remembered your shape. Now, you were still just as beautiful and breathtaking as he remembered you. In your little, schoolgirl mini skirt, thigh-high socks and a white button up shirt with a loosened tie you looked way sexier than you had a reason to. It’s been quite some time since he was that aroused from just looking at someone and you made him harder than he thought is possible. Fuck, what you were doing to him?
“So, what do you do now? Still living from party to party and from girl to girl?” You asked, taking a sip of your drink. It was strong and it really was better for you to take it in slowly, but there was a certain burn of nervousness tied to meeting your ex that you needed to drown.
“No, it’s in the past,” Satoru replied, inviting you inside, where all three of you found a nice place to sit on one of the couches. You landed between the two men. “I took the lead of my father’s company, Suguru’s my partner in crime. We’re doing good, I don’t party anymore. Honestly, if Shoko didn’t give me a sign that you will be there, I wouldn’t probably step by.”
“Oh, so you came to haunt me,” you joked, earning a soft chuckle from him.
“Yeah, kind of. Couldn’t reach you before and wanted to sort this whole mess out. I’m usually cool with having enemies, but you’re not someone I want to have as enemy.”
You gave his words a soft roll of your eyes. Maybe few years back you’d let yourself be sugarcoated into believing him, but not now. Maybe, just maybe, he matured a little, but some things will never change. Gojo was a flirt, is a flirt and probably will always be a flirt. But hell, was he cute. You cursed his innate ability to attract you from a mile.
“Sure, whatever,” you shrugged and the conversation after that was flowing nicely. You got to know Suguru, you learned who he is and why did he stick with Satoru. It was a friendship they developed that kept them together and maybe it was thanks to Geto that your ex wasn’t so much of an asshole anymore. Maybe it’s the brunette’s calm personality that somewhat grounded the playboy. Or maybe it was all an illusion. Yea, it had to be an illusion. There was no way that these two six-foot-three giants were not causing some troubles.
Yeah, they were a trouble. Double trouble, to be exact, and you got to learn that when the doors of one of many bedrooms on the floor closed behind you. You don’t even know how and why you agreed to go with them anywhere in the first place. You had no idea how on earth did Satoru sweet-talked you into fucking him again. For the old time’s sake, my ass. And more important, how did he sweet-talked you into fucking not only him, but also Suguru? At the same time?! You were not built for this, that’s for sure.
“Let’s have fun like we always did, yeah?” Gojo had this typical, shit-eating grin stretched on his face, when he was pulling you by the wrist onto the bed. Geto took his time and lit up another joint, opting to just stand and watch for now. He had a smirk on, his eyes were fixed on you, and you could tell that they weren’t new to sharing a woman. It really was obvious they did that before.
You had no time to think if that surprises you at all. Satoru was a stranger to patience. He never enjoyed waiting and always went straight for what he wanted, and this time was no exception.
“God, you look so fucking hot as a schoolgirl,” he muttered, burying his face into your neck, nibbing and kissing wet marks onto your skin whilst his fingers were already dealing with buttons of your white shirt. Your body acted on its own accord, responding to the red stains of his lips and the cold touch of his fingers with excitement that you felt for the last time when you were in college. It bothered you that you still were so receptive to the way he feels on you, you thought that you’re way over the Gojo effect but seems like you were gravelly wrong. “What a naughty one,” Satoru chuckled, his voice bordered a moan when he finally opened your shirt and your shapely tits, hugged beautifully by a lace bra entered his field of view. “Fuck, I missed those.”
“You’re talking too much,” you grabbed him by the hair, tugging the snow-white strands at the base of his neck and pushing his face down your neck and onto your chest, hoping it will shut him up. That was the issue with your ex. He really was a phenomenal lay but he was just talking so damn much. That was what ultimately pushed you over the edge when you were together back in the day. You just couldn’t stand listening about other women while he was with you.
“Maybe I am,” he chuckled, sucking a red spot onto one of your tits, earning himself another tug on the hair.
“Don’t mark me, idiot,” you warned him, but it was already too late and both of you knew it.
“My, my… so nervous. Let me help you relax,” Gojo smiled wide and made you lay flat on the bed. It took him no time to find his place between your thighs and before you even got a chance to react, he was already pulling your panties off of you. For a split second, your mind got distracted by the subtle scent of weed that’s filling the air. The smell that reminded you that it’s not only you and your ex in the room, but also another person.
“Don’t worry about me,” Geto smiled. Something mischievous lingered over his lips as he did before he took another drag. The joint between his fingers slowly but surely becoming smaller as he was saturating his lungs with the fumes, only to breathe them out after a moment.
“Are you not going to join?” You asked, your voice slightly breaking into a whine once Satoru flicked his tongue over your clit, reminding you how well he spoke the language of your body. He was fluent in your pleasure, you were never sure if it came to him with experience or was he just naturally gifted, but either way, he had a skill and was proud of it. He began eating you out like he was starving for the past decade. His tongue worked the puffy nub of nerves all the way around, he sucked and licked, slurped and kissed your cunt, causing your body to jolt in pleasure. He was purring while between your legs, his long fingers already working their way into your hole. The stretch was delicious, the symphony of his mouth and hands was slowly driving you insane.
“You’re so sweet,” Satoru mumbled, taking the pleasure away to smear some wet kisses along your inner thighs. “She’s so incredibly sweet, Suguru, you have to taste her,” he added, accentuating the thought with a bite onto the fat of your thigh. His friend just chuckled, making his way towards you and he handed you his half smoked joint.
“I’d love to,” Geto replaced your ex between your thighs. He kept looking into your eyes when he opened his mouth, presenting you with his pierced tongue. Little, metallic ball in the middle of the muscle glistened in the artificial lighting and it made you moan out loud, when he swiped it along your slit, gathering your juices. There was something absolutely intimidating about his calm demeanor, something nearly diabolic but it was exactly what attracted you to him. He was complete opposite to Satoru. He wasn’t bright and loud; his eyes weren’t big and vibrant. He looked mysterious, he kept himself quieter, his eyes kept the focus that Gojo couldn’t achieve. They really were made for each other.
“Oh god—,” your eyes nearly rolled back as he began working on your swollen clit ruthlessly. You had no idea if it was because of the piercing or was it just his skill, but it felt even better then when the snow-white was between your thighs. Or maybe it was just you being so turned on by him.
“You like it?”, your ex asked, grinning as he was taking the time to undress himself. “Knew you’re gonna enjoy it.”
You spared him the comment, losing the track of thoughts in the way Suguru was making you feel. You could have sworn you never felt something like this, he was just incredible with the way his tongue was engraving his own name into your clit. Cold metal of his piercing doubled down the pleasure you were receiving, contrasting with the heat of his muscle.
Your thighs began to tremble, your toes curled in, and you felt yourself quickly falling down the hole of ultimate lust. Euphoria was rushing through your veins; your heart was drumming in your chest as the smoke was leaving your lungs after the drag you took from the joint in your hand. Suguru was pushing you over the edge with such ease it felt illegal. You could feel him grinning proudly from his spot between your legs, you could feel his fingers gripping your hips with bruising strength, keeping them in place while he was slurping your soul straight from your weeping pussy.
Your orgasm exploded and you called out Suguru’s name. He didn’t stop. He kept drinking, thirsty for more of you as your juices coated his tongue and the bottom of his handsome face.
“You really do taste fucking sweet,” he commented, getting up and crawling above you. His lips were on yours the moment he reached your face. He tasted the smoke and you tasted yourself in that kiss. It didn’t last long, but the intensity of it made you almost dizzy. “Let’s get you out of this uniform.”
It took just few moments until you were completely bare underneath the heavy gaze of two men around you. Satoru was just in his underwear, the tent in them painfully apparent and you knew him well enough that he won’t be able to wait much longer, but what bothered you was the fact that Suguru was still completely clothed. He looked sexy in his dark outfit, but he can look sexy in it later.
“Aren’t you a tease—” you muttered, once he got up from the bed to drown the rest of the joint in what little of alcohol was left in one of your cups on the bedside table. “Take this off.” You demanded, coming up to your knees and pushing his hoodie up.
“How demanding,” he laughed but complied and you managed to just blink twice before his god-like figure presented itself to you. A muscular, large body beautifully decorated with a dragon tattoo that wrapped its tail around his right bicep and spread on his back. You couldn’t decide what to focus on – his impressive musculature, the ink on his skin or the fact that even though he still had his pants on, you could already feel yourself salivating.
Satoru was right behind you, swiping the angry tip of his cock up and down your folds, gathering your slick and making you shiver from the touch. He then pushed his girth into you, stretching you impossibly and pulling a quiet, whiny fuck straight out of your throat. It’s been a while since you’ve been having sex with anyone, not to say anyone with that size, but you couldn’t deny that the burn was delicious. It set all your senses on fire, the heatwave washed over you and once Gojo went with the first thrust, it reminded you how much you missed the physical act of intimacy with him.
“Can’t focus, pretty girl?”, Suguru brought your attention back to himself. His long fingers gently gathered all of your hair into a messy ponytail, and you got the hint immediately. As on cue, you unbuckled his pants, pushing them down almost too eagerly. “Good girl.”
The praise in his tone got you weak, you were already becoming a mess from how perfectly Satoru was fucking you right now, pounding his hips against yours in the mind-numbing manner. His cock hitting all of the sweet spots inside of you with each long stroke and that was enough to make you almost incapable of thinking straight, but your hands and mouth acted on its own.
Geto watched how your lips wrapped around his dick. The sight of you taking him into your mouth with such hunger was something he wanted to engrave onto his brain and if the picture was amazing, then there was no word to describe the feeling itself. Your soft, plush lips felt divine brushing along his sensitive shaft, your tongue dancing around his length made him almost lose his composure. You were a sight. And you made him feel so good, he could feel himself twitching in the hot, wet embrace of your mouth. You were sucking him as if your life was depending on it, as if it was your last supper and you wanted to devour it and every time his plump tip hit the back of your throat, he could feel you taking control over him.
“Isn’t she amazing?”, Gojo mumbled from behind you. His grip remained iron on your hips, the bruising force being the only thing that was grounding you now. You could feel yourself clenching around him, your juices were running down your thighs and the wet sounds of skin slapping against each other were filling the room.
“Oh, she is,” Geto confirmed, applying some force onto your head. The tug on your hair was enough to send you overboard and the vibration of your throat once you moaned were enough for him as well. You couldn’t tell who came first, and frankly, you couldn’t care less about it, as long as it felt so damn good.
“I, fuck— I told you,” Satoru panted out. His hips moved slower as he was sloppily riding the high out. You licked the cock in front of you clean, satisfied with the first course but hungry for more.
You shouldn’t allow all of this to happen. There was not a single argument that could justify everything that was happening right now – you shouldn’t sneak out to god-knows-whose room in your friend’s house and you absolutely shouldn’t sneak out there with not only your ex-boyfriend but also his friend. You couldn’t even remember how you agreed to that. Why have you agreed to that? You had no idea. Was it to talk?
You wouldn’t exactly call the way your body was being stuffed full by two cocks at the same time talking. You were squeezing Suguru’s shoulders as he was thrusting his hips up against yours. His body below you, laying flat on the bed made for a canvas for your nails to leave marks, but he didn’t seem to mind at all. He was kissing you with a mixture of passion and laziness, a smirk stayed prominent on his lips as he was swallowing your moans. The subtle taste of weed in his mouth got you wanting more of him. He felt perfect in every way, his movements were setting your nervous system on fire as the heat was spreading over your entire body, radiating from your core. You could feel Satoru’s fingers teasing your clit, you could feel his lips smearing wet trails along your spine. The way his hips were moving seemed to be perfectly in sync with the brunette.
You were so full of them, you never felt something like this before. The initial pain you felt when Gojo pushed his girth into your asshole was long gone now as he was pounding into you in complete unison with how Geto was moving. The sensation of being so incredibly full turned your brain into a heated mush, your body was trembling between them, electrocuted time after time with a sharp waves of white pleasure. Your vision was blurry, the stars covered most of it. You could no longer tell whose hands were where and your thighs were wet and sticky from all the seed that was being pumped into you, gushing out with every piston of their hips.
“You’re so perfect for us,” someone told you. A low, rasped out voice resounded right next to your ear, followed by a harsh bite onto your shoulder and the sudden wave of new pain that radiated from it pushed you over the edge. You were speeding, falling with no parachute. You couldn’t breathe for a moment as the climax was overtaking you. “Such a good girl, you’re making so much mess.”
“Oh god,” you whimpered, gasping for air as their thrusts picked a pace. You couldn’t form any coherent sentence as they were fucking the soul out of your body. Right after you came, they both came as well. Their cum coated your insides and leaked onto your thighs, dripping down as they pumped into you some more.
Gojo was first to pull out, spreading your cheeks and admiring how his white overflown your hole. The menacing grin spread across his face as he gripped your hips and lifted you off Suguru’s cock. The long-haired man sat up as you, led by your ex’s hands turned to straddle Geto’s lap. Your back was facing his chest as he pulled you back onto his shaft. All of his length sank right into your ass, pulling a moan right from your chest.
“Look at you, so gorgeous,” Satoru was in front of you, admiring for a moment your bouncing figure before his long fingers slipped into your cunt, curling in a way that got him pressing onto your oversensitive sweet spots. “Open your mouth for me.”
You barely registered his words, but your jaw dropped nonetheless. His cum coated digits slid right through your lips and you sucked on them, twirling your tongue around and tasting the mixture of your juices and their seeds. Suguru’s hands were kneading your breasts as his friend was playing with the mess between your thighs.
There was something deeply erotic in a way the white-haired man kept your gaze up. How he looked right into your eyes while you were being fucked by his best friend, how he enjoyed the way you gave them your body to play however they wanted. And it felt even more erotic when Satoru licked the lone drop of cum that escaped the corner of your mouth only to kiss you right after.
Geto was still slamming his pelvis up and you got stuck in the realm of pleasure, hanging somewhere between the movements of the cock in your ass and the lips over your own. You could feel your thighs trembling. Your body, still oversensitive from the last orgasm and yet, already entering the state of another. The wave of lustful relief now flowing dangerously close to your core, the knot in your stomach holding just barely and you squeezed Satoru’s hair, tugging at them harshly. You were struggling to breathe through the heavy kiss he was laying on your lips, but the sensation of it rendered you unable to fight it.
And then it hit you once again. The man below you filled you to the brim, tearing down the last bits of composure you had and your world shattered once the final climax. You felt as if the lust and desire were steaming off of all three of you. The breaths were mixed and the tastes concocted. As all three of you fell onto the bed, blissfully satisfied, you began to slowly regain your mind to the sound of a soft chuckle from your left side. Satoru. He had a habit of laughing when he was fulfilled – a sign of his happiness, the state nearing high. There was some gratefulness in it as well.
“How are you feeling?”, the question came from the right side, where Suguru seemed to already plan how to take care of the entire mess. He kissed your shoulder softly.
“Good,” you replied to him, watching as he gathered himself up from the bed.
“You rest a little bit longer; I’ll go get washed first and then you two.”
#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#satoru#suguru#satosugu#stsg#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#satoru gojo#gojo#gojo x reader#suguru geto#geto#geto x reader#satosugu x reader#satosugu x you#satosugu x y/n#jjk x you#jjk x y/n#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen x y/n#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#satoru goto smut#suguru geto smut#gojo smut#geto smut#satosugu smut#satoru x suguru x you#geto x gojo x you
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SERIES: The Sun and the Sunflower / P. Sunghoon
genre: fluff, romance
introduction: these series include random one shots of tsundere! sunghoon and bubbly! reader’s relationship, more chapters/parts will follow in the future! this part shows the softer side of sunghoon but next chapters/parts will show his more “tsundere” side
a/n: i decided to make it one shots because i realized i suck at making long stories so hopefully this turns out alright! let me know what you think :D
warnings: suggestive, and not proofread cause i’m lazy
I. Jealousy *ੈ✩‧₊˚ — when you get jealous
Sunghoon is someone who doesn’t show a lot of affection when there are other people around you both. If a stranger saw the two of you, they might not even think you both are in a relationship because of how casual he is around you in public. You didn’t mind, you didn’t want to make him uncomfortable in anyway, and you respected that (though there were times where he would peck your lips when no one is looking).
But there were times you wish you could just kiss him to show others that he is yours. Like right now.
You always thought you weren’t a jealousy person. What’s there to be jealous about? You know Sunghoon is a loyal person and would never do anything to hurt you. He is a whole green flag, a green forest even.
But you can’t help it when you see girls flirting with him out in the open.
He has asked you out for a night out in a nearby art museum that just opened. Of course you agreed, making sure you were free and don’t have anything else planned, you definitely wouldn’t pass any opportunity to spend time with him.
The night has been going well since far. You two went around to see different exhibitions, taking photos of one another (you even secretly took photos of him when he wasn’t looking because he looked so dreamy).
He was wearing a suit and tie with his glasses on, which you have always told him how handsome he looks with it on. Sunghoon is very handsome in general, but when he wears his glasses on, it just hits different. There’s just something about it that makes your stomach flutter ten times more.
You have also dressed up quite nicely, wearing the dress Sunghoon gifted you for your birthday which wasn’t too long ago. It was a pretty long white dress, and you felt very confident in it. Spending almost two hours doing your hair and makeup, your craft not going unnoticed by your boyfriend.
He is quick to notice your appearance, staring at you in awe when he picked you up from your apartment. He had literal heart eyes for you, a soft smile on his face.
For a quick moment you have left him outside to use the bathroom, to freshen up and all that. Once you got out, you didn’t expect to see him talk to someone, and a woman. And he was smiling?
What caught you off guard is when the girl placed her hand by his bicep, though Sunghoon didn’t seem bothered by it, just nodding to what she was saying. Does she really have to be touchy?
You pouted to yourself, watching the scene in front of you, not knowing if you should let them be or approach them. Before you could even decide, Sunghoon has already spotted you, excusing himself.
“You ready to go and see more exhibits? There’s more upstairs.”
“Hmm, sure.”
Your voice came out soft and quiet, something out of the ordinary as you often talked with such excitement. His thick brows furrowed, but he pushed it off, nodding at you. Maybe you were just getting tired? He thought.
Crossing your arms, you began to walk to the escalator, Sunghoon following by your side. Who was that girl? Is that someone he knows? Or did they just met? Why were they smiling? They looked so happy together. Is that his ex? He never told you about an ex…
You shook your head to yourself, feeling yourself overthink. Stop it, yn.
“Hey… you alright? I can take you home if you’re feeling tired.” Sunghoon looked at you with such concern, both of you getting off the escalator as you got to the next floor up.
You looked up at him, quickly shaking your head. “No! Uh, I’m alright. Don’t worry. I want to see more of the exhibits.” You forced a grin, though it came out so fake that Sunghoon can sense something was definitely wrong.
You got startled when he took your hand, pulling you to the side. Your back was suddenly pressed on a wall, gasping softly as his hand found your hips, looking at him with wide eyes. Your cheeks reddened so quickly, heart beating hastily.
“Is something wrong? You can tell me.”
His eyes stayed on you, waiting for your response, though you felt your throat dry during to how close the two of you are. When you opened your lips, nothing came out.
“Nothing! I just- I…”
“You can tell me what’s wrong. I don’t like seeing you so quiet. It’s weird.”
That made your heart flutter, blinking up at him. He was so close that you could smell his sweet scent, making you feel fuzzy inside.
"I would rather hear you talk non-stop than be quiet. I like hearing you," he whispered softly, feeling his fingers run through your hair, making you feel giddy.
"It's just... it's nothing. It's stupid." you felt yourself pout softly, looking away from him, but you felt his hand grip your chin gently, making you look up at him. "Well it's not stupid if it's bothering you right?"
"The woman earlier. You know her? Is she-"
"She's a childhood friend during my ice skating years. We just quickly catched up, that's all."
Ah, right. You nodded, feeling yourself embarrassed.
"Were you… jealous?"
"What? Why would you ask that." you huffed, suddenly getting defensive. He found it cute how pouty you got, feeling himself smile down at you. Gosh, you're cute.
"You can be friends with anyone you want, I don't care. It's the same with me, I can be friends with whoever, talk to whoever I want. And also, why did she have to be touchy-"
Sunghoon looks at you with adoration, his eyes flickering between your eyes down to your lips. He loves it when you ramble, pouting your lips whenever you do. Your voice was going in from one of his ear to the other, everything in the background becoming a blur.
You were suddenly cut off by Sunghoon's soft lips, your eyes widening before they fluttered shut, putting your hands into a fist as you didn’t know what to do with it.
His lips were hot and plump, his hands going up to your waist, pulling you slightly up, causing you to go on your tippy toes.
You wish you could kiss him for longer, though he definitely took your breath away, pulling away from to the kiss to catch your breath. Your cheeks flushed, as well as your lips, and definitely swollen.
“Sorry. I couldn’t help it… you were talking too much.”
A giggle escaped your lips, looking up at him shyly. “I thought you weren’t a fan of PDA.” you teased, smiling shyly up at him.
“I could do much more if we weren’t in public.”
“Hoon!”
He grinned cheekily, his fangs on display, chuckling lowly. “Cute…”
Your cheeks felt as if they were on fire. He really knew how to make you fold, huh? His eyes never left yours, caressing your waist ever so gently, eyes full of love.
“Why don’t we just go back to my apartment?”
“Hm, are you tired?”
“No.”
“Then why? Aren’t we going to see more exhibits?”
“I did. But now all I want is to able to kiss my pretty girlfriend longer.”
#SERIES: The Sunshine and the Sunflower ✧˚#sunghoon x reader#sunghoon imagines#sunghoon scenarios#sunghoon fluff#sunghoon drabbles#enhypen#enhypen imagines#enhypen fluff#enhypen scenarios#sunghoon enhypen#park sunghoon
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Idk if anyone else has noticed this but no one brought it up so…..
Remember how Viv said that Husk refuses to embrace his demon form and thus, doesn’t use his wings often for flight?
And yeah, we never see Husk fly at all prior to Ep 8. In Ep 3, we see him sneak away from the battle exercise, despite the fact that if Vaggie really did throw him, he could’ve easily just flown and skipped it. But he didn’t. And at least we know why.
(Hence, I just have this headcanon that Husk just secretly never knew how to properly fly ever since he first arrived.
Because he felt like he didn’t need to. He had his powers and can handle himself. He used to be a powerful Overlord. And even now, he’s currently under Alastor’s ‘protection.’ Basically, just never really found a reason to learn it, couldn’t be bothered, and simply just because….He doesn’t wanna.)
But then the threat of the extermination came and everything he grew to care about was at risk. And what does he do?
He flies.
For the hotel. For his friends.
He even went to see if his bf Angel’s alright. What a sweetie :))
Since Husk presumably doesn’t do flying a lot usually, it makes sense his back would hurt so much from the excessive strain his wings had to do all of a sudden. He’s not used to this much of flying. Heck, even his poor wings completely drooped to the floor!
He literally gave his back out for his friends- :((
This is going to delve a little bit into headcanon territory from this point onwards. You don’t have to read down if you’re not interested. ⬇️
……..
So Personal Headcanon:
I like to think that in Ep 7, while Vaggie is away with Carmilla and Charlie with Alastor, the other 4 were up to their own shenanigans off screen.
I honestly thought their friendship didn’t get to develop as much as I wanted it to. Especially the interactions with Sir Pentious and Niffty weren’t a lot. The series just established them as close friends and expects us to just take it as word but didn’t really show it much. Maybe Pentious’ death would hit harder if we actually saw him get closer to the others rather than being made fun of all the time.
Anyways, back to the HC, these 4 bonded some more while boarding the place. (Awww, all without being told by Charlie).
And since they knew they’re going to be up against FLYING angels, Angel commented that Husk’s wings can be put to good use for once, rather than just being displayed.
Husk was insecure and got defensive at first, eventually sheepishly admitting he doesn’t know how to use them. Slightly opening up how he hates his current form. While Angel and Pentious were confused at first, they both didn’t make fun of it any further. (Because yay! Development! Charlie would be proud.)
Husk warms up a little and claims that “Fine, he’ll try for the hotel’s sake but this is a one time thing…blah blah blah.”
Cue Pentious using and teaching his ‘expertise’ on flight from his machines. Angel smirking every time a clueless Pentious discusses the forces of “Lift, Drag, Weight and…ahem. Thrust.” Meanwhile, Husk attempts to ignore Angel but fails to resist smirking back at times. (Because I know Huskerdust fans love collecting crumbs) And later on, Niffty insisting she wants to be the one to push Husk off the balcony for practice.
Which, she does. On Angel’s count of 3. But she pushes him before Angel could even begin counting. Pentious debating and suggesting whether it’s better for the trial to do it ON 3, BEFORE 3, or start from 1. Regardless, Niffty messes each trial up. And Husk is just regretting everything in this nightmare his 3 friends call “training.” This is just one of their many shenanigans btw.
Eventually though, Husk did get the hang of it….somewhat. He could glide, take off and hover. But couldn’t really stay up long or fly high because his muscles and stamina for flight are terrible since he doesn’t do it often. Thus, why Husk stays very close to the ground during the final battle and only flies short distances. But the 4 considered it good enough.
(Angel made a joke on the “lack of stamina,” and got thrown in the face by a bottle. But yeah, all of them had some fun to a degree and became more emotionally bonded. All before Charlie and Vaggie came back with backup. Woohoo!
Hopefully they won’t see a particular snake die in front of their eyes-)
If any of y’all want to make a fic of this concept, be my guest. The only condition is that you share me the link :))
#hazbin hotel#if you couldn’t tell already- I love this kitty cat :3#hazbin headcanons#hazbin niffty#hazbin vaggie#hazbin charlie#hazbin angel dust#hazbin husk#hazbin sir pentious#huskerdust#chaggie#ramblings#vivziepop#hazbin spoilers
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Hi 👋🏻 could u write gpWanda x reader x gpNatasha where Wanda is r gf and she doesn't know how to fuck reader properly so she ask Nat for help and N fuck r while W is watching?
I'm sorry if there are mistakes, english isn't my first language
ACQUAINTED
PAIRINGS: Wanda x reader, Wanda x Nat, Nat x reader
WORD COUNT: 3,697
WARNINGS: therapist/patient relationship, perv!Nat, nat and Wanda have dicks, subby!Wanda, Miss (N), threesome, exhibition, voyerisum, degrading, praising, breeding, therapist!Natasha, pet names, smut (obvi), pining, cunnilingus, dry-humping (kinda), bottom!R, top!Nat, Nat treating R like an object,
NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN!!
Wanda sat on the couch with Natasha in front of her, sitting at her desk with a notebook in hand. The walls were painted a soothing gray, only adorning a few pieces of artwork. She had been seeing Ms. Romanoff for close to a year now after you suggested the idea of therapy, already having one of your own.
“I don’t know, it’s just hard I guess. I mean, I love them so much and I see myself having a future with them, but-” She paused, rubbing the back of her neck and adjusting her potion. Nat hummed, waiting for a response but speaking up when receiving none.
“But, what?”
“I- I want to- well, we don’t really-” She didn’t know why she was so nervous all of the sudden, she had been able to tell Nat almost everything but this seemed to be different.
“Trust me, I’ve most likely heard much worse here, whatever you say is confidential and free of judgment. Just take your time.” Wanda sighed and nodded, trying to figure out the words in her mind before speaking.
“I guess I just want to spice things up, you know? And don’t get me wrong, the sex is great but- but they were the first person I’ve ever done it with. I’m just scared they’re not satisfied and it worries me to think that I’m nowhere near as good as their past boyfriends or girlfriends.” She shrugged as if it wasn’t anything serious, but it was to her. She was a giving person, all she wanted was for you to be happy and well-pleasured, she wanted to impress you. But there was nothing to show off with, she had no skills in that aspect, that’s what she thought at least.
“Okay, that’s understandable.” Nat started. “Have you ever tried, say, having a conversation with them about this? I know you’re not great with communication but maybe just asking them what are some of the things they like or maybe even expressing your worries, I’m sure they’d listen.” She knew you would, but the idea of bringing such a thing up felt uncomfortable. She didn’t hate the thought of sex, but she hated the thought of talking about it. It felt like watching a sex scene on the television with your parents right next to you.
“I know they’d listen, I just don’t know how to, like, bring it up.” Wanda watched as Natasha moved her pen gently against the piece of paper, writing something down that she wished she could see.
“Alright, well, what if you invited them to a session, possibly our next one? We can bring up our discussion and your worries and maybe it could help ease them.” She spoke with such gentleness that it always made Wanda even more nervous. You had picked up on the way she’d always come home with a blush and a small smile after her appointments, but you just assumed she was happy to see you. And she was, but that wasn’t the full reason for her expressions.
“So it would be like couple’s therapy?”
“Yes, pretty much. I’ll have you two both share your sides and your feelings and we go from there.” Wanda could do that, she hoped so.
The one hour ended in what seemed like a few minutes as Nat said her goodbye’s to the woman, watching her leave as her eyes trailed down to her ass. The jeans fit her ass perfectly, it was impossible to stop the biting of her lip and the long sigh.
Truth be told, she had been planning this moment for too long. She remembered when she first ever saw you, Wanda showed her the picture she kept in her wallet of the two of you holding hands that were pointed to the camera with your lips attached in a sweet kiss. Before, she had been slightly upset when finding out that her client had a partner, even with the knowledge that it would ruin her career if she did anything. But then there was you, she didn’t expect you to be so beautiful.
The moment her last client left she went searching through your accounts, using your name to find anything on you. She was embarrassed to say she had stroked herself to multiple orgasms while scrolling through both you and your girlfriend’s photos. She was beyond ecstatic about next week’s visit, she could only hope you’d agree to go.
Luckily, you did. It took a little bit of convincing, when Wanda brought the idea up to you, you were frightened that you did something to upset her, but she quickly rushed that thought out of your mind. She didn’t tell you what exactly it was for, although you assumed it would be nice. You knew Natasha was an amazing therapist, she helped Wanda with all the things you struggled to help with. You were only human, and you didn’t have a degree like Nat, but your moral support meant just as much to your girlfriend.
“Wanda?” Her head shot up at the sound of Natasha’s voice, she quickly grabbed your hand and the two of you walked into her office. She closed the door behind you, her eyes catching a quick glimpse of your body. You were even better than the photos, she couldn’t wait.
“And you must be Y/N if I’m correct.” You nodded and shook her hand, giving her a warm smile as you removed your coat. Wanda did the same, grabbing yours and placing it on the coat rack in the corner of the room.
“So, I’m assuming Wanda has told you why you’re here?” When she looked down at her knees where her fingers rested, nervously picking the skin off of them, she knew her answer.
“Uh, not really. I was a little bit hesitant about this, but she told me there was nothing to worry about, so I’m hoping it’s nothing bad.” You shied away from Nat’s eyes, feeling a blush rise to your cheeks at the woman’s clear attractiveness. You didn’t exactly know what her therapist looked like, but now you wished you had done your research beforehand. She was stunning, breathtaking.
“Well, I can assure you that you have done nothing wrong, honey, there are just some topics we’d like to approach if that’s alright with you.” You nodded and interlaced your hand with Wanda’s, giving a small squeeze to assure her you weren’t upset. She had been planning what to bring up since the moment she left last week, but it seemingly all vanished by now.
“Do you have a therapist or a counselor of your own, Y/N?” It started off with simple questions, ones that you’d expect. That was until she started asking about your relationship and prior ones too. You shifted in your seat as she continued, feeling the immense pressure with both of their eyes on you.
“Now, tell me, Y/N, do you feel satisfied with Wanda?”
“Of course, I do. She’s such a great woman and I can really feel her love, I haven’t ever had someone like her.” You could see Wanda smiling next to you and you joined her. You truly loved this woman more than anything, you wanted to marry her someday and you hoped she thought the same.
“And sexually? Do you feel sexually satisfied with Wanda?” You nearly choked on your spit from her words, nervously chuckling in hopes to redeem yourself. She noticed your expressions and tried reassuring you, holding back as best she could when she patted your knee.
“It’s nothing I haven’t heard before, trust me. It’s normal to feel a sense of discomfort in these situations, but I promise that everything here stays confidential.” Her voice was able to soothe you and calm your nerves.
“Uhm, I’d say so, yeah. Obviously, there are some…things I’d like to try, but we haven’t approached that.” She nodded, as if she wanted you to go on. You didn’t know what to say, your words were stuck in your throat. You were experienced with the topic, but it wasn’t one you openly shared or talked about with others.
“Would you say your sex life is more vanilla than you want it to be?” You loved Wanda, you really did, but she wasn’t the greatest when it came to your intimate moments. You could feel her love through it, but you wanted to see her rougher side, you knew she was holding back on you.
“To be honest, yeah. I kind of like things to be a bit more..kinky, you know?” You could see the redness on Wanda’s cheeks and the tip of her ears as she shuffled her feet around. You felt sorry for making her embarrassed, but that’s why she brought you here in the first place.
“What would you consider kinky, darling?” Her pet name had your lips quivering ever-so-slightly before you came up with a response.
“I guess I just wish she was a bit more rough with me. And don’t get me wrong, I love that I can really feel her care for me but sometimes I just want her to, like, use me.” Nat scooted her desk chair closer to you two, placing her hand on your thigh softly. Wanda was still silent, she was probably too scared to speak up.
“You want to be used, Y/N?” You nodded slowly, feeling your eyes drift to her lips. You felt so dirty looking at her the way you did your girlfriend, but you also knew she was doing the same.
“Hm, who knew such a sweet little thing could be so dirty?” You could feel her hand rubbing small circles on your covered skin, her eyes staring deeply into yours. She trailed them over your body, taking all of you in.
“Does this turn you on, honey?” You nodded once again. “Yeah? Me touching you while your girlfriend watches, that makes you wet?” You gulped down your arousal as you felt her thumb teasing your clit through the fabric, your legs instinctively opening for more.
“Kiss them for me, Wanda; act like I’m not even here.” You looked in the brunette's direction, watching as she snuck glances between the two of you. She placed one hand on your cheek and the other on your lower back as you leaned in for her lips to meet yours. You moaned into the kiss as Nat rid you of your pants, dragging her fingers across your panties and smiling at the wet patch adorning them. The noise allowed Wanda’s tongue to slip into your mouth, the intrusion causing you to groan in pleasure.
Your fingers ran through Nat’s hair, pleading her to come closer. You could feel her hot breath teasing your slit as she slid your panties to the side, small kisses being pressed against your clit.
“Please, Ms. Romanoff.” You pulled away from Wanda to catch your breath, your head resting on her shoulder. Your eyes landed on her crotch as you noticed her palming herself, her hips bucking into her hand.
“You’re such a good girl. Say, why don’t we give Wanda a little lesson, okay?” She smiled when you complied without a thought in your mind. She stood up, guiding you to join her as she removed your shirt, grinning when she took notice of your lacey bra.
“It’s Wanda’s favorite, I was going to surprise her tonight.” She huffed out a chuckle and reached around behind you to unclasp it, shuddering as it fell and you were left in nothing but your panties.
“I’ve been wanting to fuck you for so long, baby. Now I can finally get my hands on you.” She had been so desperate to be alone in her office with the both of you, she wanted nothing more than to mark you both as hers.
She led you to her desk, her kisses trailing from your neck to your chest where her lips wrapped around your hardened bud. Your back was met with the wooden table as she lifted you to sit on it, her palms lingering on your soft thighs after she guided your last piece of clothing off of you. She parted them, dropping to her knees in front of you and staring up at you with lust in her eyes.
“Watch closely, Wanda.” You looked over to the woman at the mention of her name, biting your lip with hunger as you noticed her unbuttoned pants and her hand hidden inside of her boxers. She shuddered when you cupped your breast, using Nat’s saliva to help create a small rhythm.
Nat blew a teasing breath onto your pulsing clit before leaning in, taking the bud into her mouth. She sucked delicately, soaking in your moans and twitches. She was too engrossed in your taste to take notice of her growing erection in her pants.
“Oh, you look so pretty on your knees for me, Miss.” It was clear that she was still the one in charge, but her need for you was so great, she couldn’t care if she seemed weak. Wanda, while feeling a pang of jealousy, couldn’t deny the heat that was growing in her stomach. She felt as though she would burst any second, but she was trying to hold back. Her thumb would occasionally brush over her tip, causing her eyes to squeeze shut.
“Look at me, Wands; watch me.” She pried her eyelids open willingly, nearly whining when she saw you wrap your legs around her therapist’s head. You grinded into her face as her tongue tortured your hole, diving in and out repeatedly. She groped your ass in order to push you closer into her, her nose poking at your clit.
“Fuck! Fuck- right there, yes!” You covered your mouth with your hand in order to silence yourself, becoming ashamed of how loud you were. Neither of them were complaining though, they thrived off of your noises; it brought satisfaction knowing that they were the reason you were in such a deep state of pleasure.
“I’m- I’m gonna cum.” Nat smirked into your cunt as you were brought over the edge, your head falling back and your eyes rolling to the back of your head. Your silent screams filled the room as Nat continued to lap up your juices, Wanda watching with the wish that she was the one tasting you. You were addicting, a drug that she couldn’t get enough of. Every sway of your hips, every lick of your lips, every noise, and every word that left that sweet mouth was so alluring.
You were suddenly pushed to lie down, feeling the lumber underneath you bruise your back. You leaned up on your elbows to admire the woman as she undressed herself, running her hand through her short hair once as to fix what you tugged.
“Tell me, love, have you ever heard of breeding?” You nodded, receiving a slap to your cheek. Wanda widened her eyes at both the words and the rough contact, is this what you meant? Is this how you wanted her to treat you, like you were some no-good slut?
“Yes, Miss, I have.” She hummed, guiding her tip through your slit and gathering the wetness as a replacement for lube.
“When was the last time you ever pleaded to milk Wanda dry, hm? Beg her to slap you ‘till your skin turned black and blue? Or, better yet, when was the last time you got on your knees and asked her in that sweet little tone of yours to treat you like the dirty whore you are?” Your chest rose and fell with every breath you took, each one not feeling like it was enough.
“Never.” You shook your head as you answered, your eyes not being able to meet hers. She gripped your chin roughly, pulling you in close so her nose was practically touching yours.
“What was that?” She asked again, even if she had already heard you well enough.
“Never.” You repeated, this time louder. She clicked her tongue and shot you a disapproving glance.
“Mm, there’s always two sides to the matter. Here Wanda was not knowing what to do because you couldn’t communicate, do you think that’s fair on her?” The way she spoke, the light rasp to her voice was what caused the wetness already coating your thighs to increase.
“N-no, Miss.” She turned your head to face Wanda and she blushed in the moment you caught her. You could notice the stains now coating her boxers and the shameful look on her face; she had peaked with you. You didn’t know how you didn’t hear her, she was usually the louder one of you both. But you guessed that you were too far into your orgasm to care for anything else.
“Apologize to your girlfriend, Y/N, and tell her how sorry you are.”
“I’m sorry, Wanda, I’m sorry for not- not talking about my needs and wants when I should’ve. I’m sorry.” You stuttered over your words as you felt Nat’s cock prodding at your hole, her tip breaking way and creating a small stretch.
“It’s okay, I’m sorry too.” She spoke up, and for the first time this entire session, you were able to hear her voice. It was coated thickly with her Sokovian accent seeing as she had just moved here nearly eight months ago. You hoped it would never go away, no matter how long she lived in this country.
“See? You’re both already doing such a good job.” You both smiled at the praises, seeming to fish for them from the woman at bay. You sent a small ‘I love you’ to Wanda from across the room, although it was only mouthed out. Nat grabbed hold of your waist, pulling you towards her and causing her length to fill you up almost entirely. You gasped at the intrusion, crying out in pain as you clawed at the desk.
She continued to slowly lead you further, moaning to herself as your warmth clamped around her. Your tears only brought more delight to her heart, she could only grin when seeing them.
“You’ve been begging for Wanda to use you yet you can barely even take me? Aren’t you just a pathetic fucking slut.” Her fingertips ran along your face, her thumb rubbing gentle circles as a faux sense of comfort. She then brought them down to your neck, wrapping her palm around it and cutting off your airways. The only thing you could manage to get out were choked sobs and moans. The burning discomfort slowly eased into one of satisfaction as Nat slowly thrusted her hips into you, the sounds of skin clapping together ringing through all three of you guys’ ears.
“Did you know your girl likes to be choked, Wanda?”
“N-no, ma’am.” She chuckled at the title given to her. Her breasts bounced with every movement of her hips, her cock hitting your womb. There was a small yet noticeable bulge carved out on your stomach making her groan, she was so big compared to you.
“Hm, maybe in our next session we can teach Y/N a lesson too, what do you say?” She didn’t need another opinion to decide her answer, it was final. It wasn’t just the brunette at fault, you were required to voice your wants too, even if she’d have to force it out of you.
“Please-” You managed to get out when her hand removed itself from your bruising neck and found a spot on your waist, pressing down harder than before. She was practically resting her weight on top of you, causing the bone to struggle in holding her up.
“Shut your dirty fucking mouth, I don’t want to hear another word from you.” You were close, so close, and so was she. She was forcing her body to hold back, ensuring that you were to finish first.
Wanda’s erection only grew after her orgasm, her greed making her yearn for another. You were the only one who had ever been able to make her cum, she assumed there was no better. Shyly, she walked forward, her soiled clothing still masking her bottom half. She gave Nat a look, asking for permission to which she was granted.
“Don’t ask, sweetheart, force it.” She was so used to constantly asking if it was okay to do something to your body, after all, it wasn’t her choice. Every time you’d say yes, but there was always a nagging fear that you’d not want it and she had forgotten to ask. The thought made her sick, who would ever think to do such a thing?
“They want it, Wanda. Just rub yourself against them- perfect, just like that.” She praised when Wanda held you by the back of your neck and rutted her bulge against your face, the fabric rubbing against her hard length. She whimpered when your hand came up to rub her balls, your mouth peppering kisses over her cock.
“You close, baby?” You didn’t know who she was asking, but you both agreed. You continued to gently suckle while wishing you were able to truly feel her instead of the wrinkles in her trousers.
“Ah! S-shit, cum with me.” You followed her orders and let the coil in your stomach snap as you soaked her cock, feeling her release shoot deep inside of you.
You nuzzled against Wanda as you felt her twitching, only to notice a wet patch forming on her pants. She had leaked through her underwear while itching for more, the knowledge only fueled your pride.
You mewled as Nat pulled out of you, watching as the cum dripped down your cunt, some landing on the desk while other droplets fell to the floor. She didn’t bother looking for her clothes, instead pulling the younger girl in for a kiss before doing the same with you. It was passionate, both kisses were. You could sense the longing and the emotions in it that she tried to mask, only making you chase after her lips for more once she leaned back.
“Shall we plan your next appointment then?”
#wandanat#wandanat x y/n#wandanat x you#wandanat x reader#wandanat smut#wanda maximoff x you#wanda maximoff#wanda maximoff x fem!reader#wanda maximoff x reader#wanda maximoff fanfiction#wanda maximoff oneshot#wanda maximoff imagine#wanda maximoff imagines#wanda maximoff fic#wanda maximoff one shots#mcu natasha romanoff#natasha romanoff angst#natasha romanoff imagine#natasha romanoff x reader#natasha romanoff smut#natasha romanoff x reader smut#natasha romanoff#natasha romanoff fanfiction#natasha romanoff fanfic#natasha romanoff x reader angst#natasha romanoff x you#natasha romanoff x female#natasha romanoff x reader fluff#g!p natasha romanoff x reader#natasha romanoff x fem!reader
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The Greaser Au!
(oh goodie! it's here!)
bwah, where to start?
long, long, long rambles below! (Beware!)
Wally! I'll start with Wally!
As you can imagine, Wally is the little leader of the group! Promptly dubbed after his last name, "The Darlings"! (how darling they are indeed!)
Wally had grown a fascination with the trend, though he didn't quite understand the need to act so tough and mean, so he decided to make his own group! (with the help of Barnaby!)
Motorcycles, catchy tunes, being free on the road is something everyone should enjoy! So who cares if you're big or small, or if you like the color pink? Anyone can be a greaser as long as they got a jacket and a bike to go along with it!
At least, that what he believes anyway!
Speaking of a certain beagle...
Barnaby!
Barnaby of course wanted to join in on the fun, and he very publicly advertised Wally's gang at his little comedy nights! (It did catch a certain blonde's attention!)
it did garner attention, with the way the beagle so affectionately told of Wally's endearingly comedic actions from their day to day life. Barnaby also helped Wally organize the entire set up, helping him get paint and base jackets for the painter to personalize! (He also suggested Poppy's diner as a hangout spot! He had it all thought out!)
Plus, it made his best friend happy! Who could ask for more? Well... maybe Barnaby would ask for a hotdog or two.
Julie!
Julie is a seasoned hair stylist! She owns her own hair salon! She's excellent at her job, however more often than not she gets a unpleasant customer.
Stress can pile up unfortunately, and when she attended a comedy show one evening she couldn't help but be ecstatic at such an idea of being free on the road. It felt like the perfect destresser!
Talking on the phone with Frank was great and all, but nothing compares to feeling the rush of wind in her hair... So she jumped at such an opportunity! And of course, Julie doesn't go anywhere without a certain frowny bookworm!
Frank!
Frank is an entomologist! (and a part-time librarian during the summertime!) A dream job really, but every dream comes with its hurdles! Similar to Julie, Frank found themself stressed. Usually books were able to decompress them, but lately they've been growing frustrated, the one thing they hate the most is incompetent writing!
It took a lot of convincing to get Frank to even consider the idea of being a greaser, let alone get on a motorcycle... but Julie can be very insistent when she wishes to be! Not even a week passed before they begged Julie to stop her nagging, but in exchange they had to at least go with her once on a motorcycle...
how mortifying.
However! the thrill of being on the open road at a high speed was something they never knew they needed! Needless to say, after that, they were hooked!
Sally!
Sally was the last member to join! and she took her spot quite quickly!
Sally had been in Poppy's diner when she saw The Darling's walk in, she was in awe! Colorful motorcycles? Matching jackets? They all looked marvelous! The star couldn't help herself when she walked up to them, simply starstruck at such a group!
They all looked to be having such fun... she wanted to take part!
When Sally asked if there was a spot left for her, Wally softly smiled at her and stated, "Anyone and everyone can join!"
She was content that day, and from then on, it really was the best group of friends she could ever ask for!
---
whew! im done!
(this is my second time typing this... i had lost it all the first time. bwah. but it's here!!!)
im quite happy how everything turned out! I think i'll use this as a master post of sorts, just so you don't have to dig through my stuff just to find anything specific!
I'll leave Poppy's & Howdy's explanations here! (Just know those designs are old! All the designs in this post are the ones i will be using!)
Poppy's Diner!
additionally! I will give you everyone's closeups!
#oh goodness here comes the tags#welcome home#welcome home au#welcome home greaser au#wally darling#barnaby b beagle#frank frankly#eddie dear#julie joyful#sally starlet#howdy pillar#poppy partridge#rainy dewdrop#welcome home oc#bwah!#i need to make a relationship chart...#oh my goodness!#i dont know why the white on the diner clothes looks kind of grey...#bwahhh#at least it's ignorable!#OH I FORGOT TO COLOR EDDIES NOSE IN. OOPS.
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