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anathemaspeaks · 1 month

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chocolate

character(s): toji fushiguro synopsis: you accidentally eat an aphrodisiac, but you definitely don't regret it. word count: 1.1k warning(s): smut a/n: i need him SO BAD inspired by this fic by the amazing @tonycries <3

this was a prank. it had to be. you stared at the empty black chocolate wrapper in front of you in horror. the bold, golden letters on the wrapper seemingly mocking your current predicament. 'making bedroom adventures sweeter since 1992' written in a sickeningly bold cursive font under the brand name.

once your initial surprise wore off, you realized you actually felt quite... normal. you had just eaten an aphrodisiac for the first time, after all. even if it was accidentally. but you felt okay, so you decided to get back to work since your lunch break was over.

just as you were about to start working, your phone rang, showing your wallpaper of your gorgeous boyfriend toji. still, nothing was happening. there was no change in how you felt.

until you heard his voice.

"hey doll, you eat yet?"

and just like that, all you could think about was him. your hands on his sculpted abs, teasingly moving lower. him whispering praises on how you're being such a good girl for him, how pretty you look right now. how he lifts his arm, unintentionally flexing his bicep to-

"babe, you there?"

"toji" your voice came out much breathier than you anticipated. suddenly, you were very aware of how you'd soaked through your panties just by hearing his voice. you told him you're coming home early and ended the call abruptly.

when you entered your house, you found a confused looking toji sitting on the sofa. you would've explained the situation to him, but the only thought in your mind was having his fat cock inside you, making you cum over and over until you can't walk for a week.

you practically ripped your clothes off after you shut the door behind you. "well i'm not complainin', but what's goin' on?" toji questioned, his hungry eyes practically devouring you. you didn't give him an answer. instead, you walked over to him and straddled his lap, and kissed him. you kissed him again and again because fuck, he just felt so good.

when you finally pulled away for air, all you could let out was a whiny "need you, toji." you kissed him again, harder this time. his hands were everywhere, his touch alone making your skin burn. he was holding the back of your neck, and then his hands were on your waist. one hand remained on your neck, but the other moved to squeeze your ass.

with that, you lost any self control you might've had before. you broke the kiss and pulled on his hair and guiding his lips to your neck. you practically tore his shirt off. you slowly started grinding on his thigh, moans spilling out from your mouth uncontrollably. this felt so good. he felt so good.

your bare cunt was rubbing against the denim of his jeans, which were already soaking wet because of you. the material rubbing against your clit just right. his hands were on your ass, squeezing and caressing it while guiding you. his mouth sucking your tits, occasionally leaving hickeys on your neck.

and you're so close, that sweet relief feels so near. "toji please i'm so-" and you cum all over his pants. he kisses you while still guiding you with his hands still on your ass. but you're still horny as ever. you get off his lap and help him take off his jeans and boxers, then you drop to your knees in between his spread legs.

you start by licking a small stripe up his very hard cock, then you slowly take his flushed tip inside your mouth, licking it almost teasingly. and then, within a second, you have his cock inside your mouth, tip almost touching the back of your throat with your cheeks hollowed out. "fuck you're such a good girl, shit" "mm, you can take all of it, my good little slut"

his cock was so big you had tears in your eyes trying to deepthroat it, but you couldn't stop, not when he looked like that. one hand on the back of your head, guiding you, with the other one in his hair, causing him to flex his bicep. his abs glistening with the light sheen of sweat that had formed.

his flushed cheeks and closed eyes that would occasionally open to look down at you. his mouth, which was open and saying the filthiest of things to you, cursing and moaning every other second. you couldn't wait any longer, you were dripping wet.

you stood up and leaned down to kiss him, tugging on his hair. "need you, toji" you whined. "need me where, princess?" god, he was such a tease. but you were impatient. so you allowed yourself to sink down onto his length.

you were so wet you could cum from that alone, but you needed more, more, more. you've been on top before, but never like this. you were insatiable, riding him like there was no tomorrow. the sound of his cock going in and out of you, the feeling of being so full, him whispering dirty praises into your ears, the timbre of his voice when he moaned, it was too much.

you couldn’t hold it in even if you tried, you came all over his cock. he finished inside you a few seconds later, his cum dripping out of your cunt. you didn’t stop, though, you continued riding him. his current state only turned you on even more. completely lost in the feeling of you. you placed your lips on his again, wanting nothing more than to taste him.

he couldn’t form a coherent sentence anymore. he was drunk on the feeling of your warm pussy around his fat cock. he was moaning so loudly you were sure the neighbors heard you. the overstimulation paired with your hands tugging on his hair, his hands squeezing your ass, and the view of your tits bouncing so perfectly as you rode him were just too much for him.

the oversensitivity made you both cum again, lewd moans escaping both of you. yet, you still didn’t stop. toji felt like he might pass out, but fuck, it felt so amazing. at this point, he knew it wouldn’t be over until one of you had blacked out. he loved every second of it.

toji, despite having way more stamina than you, blacked out first. that chocolate was the only thing keeping you going for longer than your man. god, you'd never felt so fucked out. you both wake up on the sofa, your naked body on top of his. you woke up to find him smirking down at you, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “toji?” you questioned. “yeah, i'm definitely giving you those again.” he said with a grin. then it clicked. that little shit had replaced your chocolate on purpose. “TOJI FUSHIGURO-”

likes, reblogs, and follows are appreciated! requests are open <3

#anathema writes #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk smut #toji fushiguro #toji x reader #jjk toji #toji smut #toji x you #fushiguro toji #toji fushigro x reader

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unbridledsun · 1 year

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look I read twilight in the second grade I can't be blamed for what happened to my brain

#even though it's bad it's still so good #rmembwring all the slumber parties watching it in the living room w sleeping bags w my buddies #the slew of vampire books geared at kids like me that i read for years #the unfortunate twilight cake ive been photographed with as a youngling #i bought the entire series on 2 cds last last christmas bc it was $12 no ragrets #u just cant get beLLA where have u been loCa anywhere else #anyways she should have chosen Jacob bc he sucked less alternatively Alice should have broken up with Jaspers #confederate soldier ass and eloped w Bella thats my ideal romantic plotline #yellow wallpaper #twilight

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smugraccoon137 · 2 years

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So like all adult queers I love house building videos. What I do not like however is modern HGTV black white minimalism fake ass country chic bullshit. I want to burn these houses to the ground and say "TRY AGAIN"

#These arent bad styles if you like them #I'm not dogging anyone's preferencess #What I'm upset about is the absolute lack of personality and character #In every single thing made in the modern world #Absolutely flavorless #I have been in so many houses old and new #And like old houses are weird and quirky and strange #Some beautiful #Some ugly af #But new houses are all the same houses #They have no distinguishing qualities #Go take your shiplap walls and shove them up your ass #I miss my sunken 70s living rooms #I miss crazy colored shag carpet #Wallpaper that would give guests nigthmares #Fireplaces and small doors into little cubby holes where ghosts totally live #I miss... Things being real #Having stories and qualities of any kind #Now all we have is stark white homes filled with empty personifications of success and wealth #It's so sick and boring #text #textpost #hgtv #luxury homes #vent post #vent

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stingchronicity · 2 years

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he has no idea he’s been babygirlified

#special interest #the only thing is when someone looks at your phone and sees this random ass dude on your wallpaper <3 not a fun experience #but it’ll never be as bad as me handing my phone to the verizon guy while my wallpaper is one of geoff downes’ bad selfies. dark times #at least alan is hot and doesn’t visibly appear older than ~55 #wonder if alan knows that at least one (1) 22 year old girl finds him inconceivably attractive #i want it on record that i’ve done s*xual things with men MUCH older than their 50s so 55 is like babyage to me. yes also dark times

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chuckletons · 4 months

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strong bad is one of the characters ever. he's been wanting a creepy middle-aged guy to be his dad since he was a kid. he got so desperate he hit on an ms paint drawing of a brontosaurus. he thinks the concept of a guy with a large bean for a head is scary. he lied about having a girlfriend who fights aliens. he stores random things in his pants. as a kid he misspelled his name as "strong bab." he looks like a bug. he ate 13 pudding pops in one day. he lost a card game and had to dress up as a sailor boy with a lollipop. he wouldn't give the king of town his easy-bake oven back. he got over 400,000 viruses by opening one email. he made his laptop wallpaper his ass with a lens flare on it. he stored a variety of eggs in his couch for no reason. every friday he and his friends work at the office. one time he made gumbo and it made coach z throw up. he says "hee hee" and "yay" on occassion. he likes the daily jumble

#homestar runner #my posts #queue

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akashi-tetsuki · 10 months

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Hypmic || Phone Wallpaper 1080×1920 ↳ requested by PRODUCKTIONS thank you for this request!!

“Do not forget” • like or reblog always appreciated ♡ • If you share out of tumblr give credits♡ • You can not re-edit my work ♡ • Follow me in Pinterest

#hypnosis mic #hypmic #bad ass temple #harai kuko #jyushi aimono #phone wallpaper #lockscreen #anime wallpaper #hypmic edit #hypmic kuko #hypmic jyushi #my graphics #request #hypnosis mic wallpaper

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evergone · 11 months

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I'm [Nott] a Bad Person

Theodore Nott x Reader

Warnings: swearing, bullying

Description: The reader and Theo are accused of causing a fight, but they swear they didn't do it.

Professor McGonagall’s office was a little too **Gryffindor-esque for your tastes. The couches, wallpaper, and even the rug on the floor underneath her desk were all some shade of dark red and you had no other way to describe it other than ‘detestably Gryffindor.’ Even so, the fireplace opposite the door warmed the room and gave it that undeniably homey feel you always got when you returned to Hogwarts after the long, hot break between years. She had a few paintings hanging from her walls, but either the subjects were busy elsewhere or she just had a thing for landscapes. One in particular caught your eye, a painting of the Forbidden Forest where you had certainly never been. After all, it was forbidden and you, ever the obedient Slytherin, would never break a rule.

“Do you know why you are here?” The professor asked and your attention slid back to the situation you were in.

“I know why they’re here,” Theo responded from your left, “But Y/n and I are victims.”

“Oh, please, you lot started this whole thing!” Granger squeaked like that little mouse the weasel kid used to have.

“Do you ever shut up, Granger?” Theo retorted.

Your lips tightened as you attempted to stifle a laugh and Theo sent you a quick smirk. McGonagall cleared her throat, again regaining your limited attention span as she tapped impatiently on her brown wooden desk; creating a dum-dum, dum-dum sound under the pads of her fingers like a heartbeat. Furrowed brows and an intense stare told you more than enough about her absolutely foul mood, and you reminded yourself not to play around with her.

“Each of you, tell me the story,” she said, “You first, Mister Potter.”

Theo muttered an ‘of course’ under his breath but you pretended not to hear it. If anyone was to get in trouble you were going to make damn sure it wasn’t you. You had a reputation to uphold; the nicest Slytherin anyone would ever meet. A façade, obviously, you were just as ruthless and cunning as your housemates, but the nice façade was what made you so. It was truly a shame Potter and co. had found you out, but you intended to cover your ass so well that no one else would ever know the truth about you, save for your friends.

“Well, uh…” Potter began to recount his version of the tale.

Apparently (and I say ‘apparently’ because despite his story being almost entirely accurate, you were going to make up a completely different one to get away with this), he had come to you in a free period to ask about how to befriend dragons quickly, knowing as well as most that your family had been breeding dragons since the dawn of dragonology. You were skeptical of him, having never quite interacted with him directly, only through the wild stories Draco or Pansy would tell you or small altercations in the halls that you always pulled Theo away from. Draco could do as he wished but you wouldn’t see yourself or your boyfriend being implicated in his shenanigans.

“I’m not supposed to talk to you,” you had told Potter.

“And why’s that?” He asked.

“All my friends say that you’re — and I’m quoting them here — ‘a mudblood mingling cunt,’” you said, “And though I have no care in the world for blood purity, I do like my friends quite a bit. They wouldn’t hang out with me if I got caught with you.”

You always had a wonderful way of putting things. Your monotonous voice mixed with your incredibly harsh words made for the most readable and expressive conversations. Potter’s little muggle born girlfriend (or girl friend, whichever it was) had almost jumped out of her own socks at your foul language. Personally offended, perhaps? You didn’t mean to hurt her, it just sort of slipped out. Maybe if you were actually a nicer person you’d apologise.

“Just… give me a hand? I know you helped Cedric,” Potter pleaded.

You shrugged, “I really can’t talk to you,” you said, “Though… I am weak to bribery… Maybe if you find me something I want I’ll help you out. Bye.”

And then you pushed through the group to go find your friends who you were bound to find eating in the courtyard instead of studying. Smart kids never studied and neither did dumb kids. When Crabbe and Goyle were there it was easy to tell the difference, but other times, not so much. Allegedly (again, I say this to protect the integrity of the tale you would later tell), you stopped half a step through and turned to show Potter your badge.

“Draco says you really like them,” you laughed, “Get a closer look.”

Desperate for your help and willing to do anything, Potter leaned closer to watch as the red ‘Support Cedric’ turned to the green ‘Potter stinks’ but then a forth colour emerged, a deep purple with no writing. He opened his mouth to ask what that colour meant, but was abruptly cut off when the badge squirted the most revolting smelling purple goo all over him. Again, allegedly, you had cursed it to do that when it saw his face… You would argue that someone must have cursed it prior to giving it to you without your knowing.

“Now you really do stink!” You had smiled sarcastically, “Bye now.”

You then continued on your journey to find your friends, leaving Potter drenched in the most malodorous thing he had ever smelt.

Later that very same day, he had approached you at lunch with a bribe. Oh, how you loved to be bribed. You were like a politician in that sense. He placed two objects in front of you: a book you knew was from the restricted section titled ‘Advanced Curses and How to Master Them,’ and a purse full of coins which, after peeking through the opening at the top, you realised were all gold.

“You know, you shouldn’t bribe people so out in the open, Potter,” You motioned to Theo, Pansy and Draco, all of whom were giving you looks that asked what in the name of Salazar were you doing, “It’s… counterproductive.”

“Merlin’s beard, L/n, just take it and help me,” Potter said.

“Is he bothering you, Y/n?” Theo asked.

You’d glanced between your boyfriend and Potter, wondering what to do in the situation. Potter noticed you’d become flustered at being put on the spot like that, even mentioned it to McGonagall. Truthfully, your head was telling you to say no because you knew as well as anyone how Theo could be when you were uneasy. He was awfully protective. But your heart wanted you to say yes so you could start a little fight and make your friends and Theo proud. You were never quite as provocative as they were when it came to the whole Slytherin-Gryffindor thing and it made you slightly self conscious, to be honest.

You would tell McGonagall that your head won, and Potter had started the fight. Theo was only defending you from the very scary Gryffindor who had decided to attack you just because you didn’t want to help him out earlier. But, in all honesty, your heart had won, or so the story goes.

“Yes, Teddy, he’s been bothering me all day,” you had said.

“How ‘bout you leave, Potter?” Theo asked, but it was hardly a question.

Potter rolled his eyes, “We had a deal, L/n.”

“I don’t think she would’ve agreed to anything with you,” Theo said and (allegedly) shoved Potter from across the table.

It was at that point that all hell broke loose. Potter’s explanation of the situation was riddled with what you would call lies about getting his shit rocked by Theo’s incredible fighting skills. You’d bloodied your boyfriend up afterwards using a little glamour charm you kept handy in case of emergencies. That was yet another way you were like a politician, you were incredible at deceiving people. On the off chance McGonagall noticed the charm, Theo had agreed to take the fall and stage an argument with you where you’d break up with him. The relationship wouldn’t be destroyed, you’d just act strained for a week or so while he did detention.

“Miss L/n, these are a lot of accusations being thrown,” McGonagall said, her eyes staring down at you over her nose, “What say you?”

You let your bottom lip quiver, but you wouldn’t dare cry. That would be too much and she wouldn’t believe you for a second. You may have had a good reputation, but she loved Potter and co. and had a huge bias in their favour. You had to be so convincing that she wouldn’t have a single doubt.

“I just didn’t want to get involved,” you said, “Professor, I’m a Slytherin, there’s a certain… standard that I’m held to. I told Potter that I didn’t want to help him because everyone would be upset with me and he tried to bribe me of his own accord.”

“She’s obviously lying, Professor, please—”

“Miss Granger, Miss L/n didn’t interrupt your telling of events, I suggest you don’t interrupt hers.”

You continued to lie through your teeth like a professional. You’d think McGonagall would know to use a truth serum when dealing with teenagers, but she was too trusting. Photographs of former students were framed on her desk, others who likely lied to her as you were doing. They were mostly Gryffindors, for obvious reasons, but there were Ravenclaws, Hufflepuffs and the odd Slytherin as well, all of them moving slightly in celebration of their graduations. Potter and co. would likely end up on that desk one day and while you’d hope yourself and your friends would end up on Snape’s, he had never come across as the sentimental type.

“One of you aren’t telling me the truth,” McGonagall said with a sigh once you had finished your recount, “Know that I’m disappointed in you but I cannot be bothered to deal with this today. If I hear about troubles with you lot again I will not hesitate to give you all detention.”

A chorus of ‘yes, Professor’s filled the room before she shooed you all out to go your separate ways. At the door to her office which she had closed behind the four of you, or rather, the two and two of you, Theo turned to the others.

“Don’t start things you can’t finish, Potter,” he said with a snarky tone.

Potter and Granger hardly acknowledged the remark, and you found yourself missing the weasel boy who would have leapt at the opportunity to throw something back. At your core, you liked to consider yourself morally good, but Merlin’s beard, you were a bit of an instigator, perhaps even a bully, weren’t you? You glanced at Theo, who you hadn’t realised had begun a little bit of a rant about blood superiority, and laughed out loud.

“What?” He asked you, his head on the slightest tilt that it was hardly noticeable.

“I think you and the others have turned me into a bad person,” you giggled, biting your lip.

“Y/n/n, that’s so fucking mean,” he said, “You are so rude.”

“I learnt from the best,” you teased as you poked his arm.

Theo shook his head and captured your arm in his so the two of you could walk back to the Slytherin dorms together.

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rinkkuma · 6 months

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୨୧ BF KAISER

ft. michael kaiser

tags. gn!reader, a bit of cussing, all fluff ! / author's note. I HATE HIM!!!!!! (affectionate) also kaiser with a man bun *FOAMS FROM MOUTH*

sleeping with him is the absolute worst. either he will be all over you and squeezing you tight or stealing the blanket from you, there is no in between.

he loves having self care nights with you!! insists to put on face masks and wash your face for you. totally not to just touch you

ALWAYS has his hands on you one way or another. whether it be holding hands, an arm around your shoulder, or leaning on you, he is touching you.

since he normally wakes up before you, he likes watching you sleep, not in a creepy way he thinks you look absolutely gorgeous in your sleeping state.

loves staying up late with you and doing random stuff. talking about random stuff, binging a show/movie, or simply just cuddling with you in silence he enjoys it so much. i firmly believe he prioritizes his quality time with you.

his hugs are the best!!! he's so warm and he doesn't squeeze too tight or too loose, it's just right!! if he doesn't see you for like a few hours though he squeezes the shit out of you

surprisingly a good cook. you constantly wake up to breakfast in bed, your favorite lunch meal, and a 5-star dinner. he has some corny ass apron that says: “mr. good lookin' is cookin” and you can't help but giggle every time you see it, and he's so confused.

WILL give you his jacket if you're cold. it does not matter if he feels like he'll freeze to death too, he will give you his jacket.

has you set as his phone wallpaper. one week it's a pretty candid photo of you, and another week it's a silly off guard photo he has of you. whenever you think you look bad or not, kaiser thinks you look absolutely gorgeous in all of the photos he has of you.

shares a spotify account with you to see what you listen to and what time! if he ever sees you online at ungodly hours of the night he sends you a ‘go to bed already!!!’ text. he's totally not awake either

swings your hands when you two are walking and holding hands. (24/7 basically) he will only start to swing them a little more if you try to stop him.

he unconsciously smiles whenever he sees you smile. he doesn't even realize it until you or someone else points it out, and only drives him more insane because of the effect you have on him.

gets matching necklaces for the two of you with each other's initials. he wears it 24/7, only taking it off before showering. he loves when someone points it out, and starts rambling about how amazing you are.

remembers all of the important dates. your birthday, anniversaries, you name it. he would rather die than forget an important date.

speaking of birthdays, he is always the first one to send you a birthday text the second the clock hits midnight. he pre-types his long paragraph talking about how grateful he is for you and such a week in advance and adds to it on the days leading up to your birthday.

his feet are always cold and it is the worst in the winter because he wakes up and decides to be annoying and puts his cold ass feet on yours. he then looks at you with a smile as if he hasn't done anything wrong ever.

loves going shopping with you!! he loves the way your eyes light up and lips curl up into a small smile when you see something cute. he loves the mini fashion shows you give him when you try on stuff. he will hold all your bags and pay for everything. he is hopelessly in love with you.

pridefully hands you his hoodies to wear because he wants to see you wear it. he giggles in his head when someone points it out because he's happy people notice you wearing his hoodie.

has the iphone sci-fi ringtone as his alarm. he set it one day as a joke and now he doesn't have the heart to change it. despite waking up to it dozens of times, you physically cannot get used to it. he claims he can't change it because of a emotional connection to it now, but you feel other wise. just to annoy you

soo good at flirting it's actually annoying. he's a natural smooth talker and knows exactly what makes you flustered.

#blue lock x reader #kaiser x reader #michael kaiser x reader #michael kaiser #blue lock #blue lock fluff

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tastesousweet · 3 months

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⭒ the girl with the tattoo (vii) - pt 1 pt 2 p3 p4 p5 p6

matt sturniolo x fem!oc / reader

summary : a little weed sure eases theses two up.

warnings : implications of sex & use of weed

mickey speaks : sorry this took a while to get out friends, hope u love it. also lowkey self inserting w the hawaii trip :P

THIS IS PART SEVEN GO READ THE OTHERS FIRST!!!

“OH, he’s obsessed!” andrea exclaims across the table, a wide smile smothered over her face.

it didn’t take long for asha to call you and begin debriefing her month-long europe trip to you, only for you to cut her short (because matt began knocking on the door, complaining about how long you’d taken to piss) and ask her to finish her tell-all over lunch. she of course agreed and texted you the location of her favorite ramen place along with: “tell your roomie andrea that she can come with i wanna see u bothhhh!”

she’s spent the last half hour detailing the total princess treatment she’d experienced from a guy she met at her stop in london. “yeah, too bad i won’t see him again,” she pouts.

“you didn’t get his phone number that entire time?” you ask, fiddling with the chopsticks in your hand.

“oh of course i did, i just won’t be using it,” asha laughs and tucks a piece of her dark curled hair behind her ear. “it was nice while it lasted but i’m definitely not trying to deal with the hassle that comes with dating anyone right now,” she shrugs.

“you’re so bad!” andrea shakes her head and giggles, "but you know what, i get it."

asha hides her laugh by guiding noodles towards her mouth.

your phone buzzes softly against the counter and lights up, showing off a new text message from your mom, but more importantly your lock screen wallpaper displaying a sleepy figaro on your chest.

asha squeals through her chews as you pick up your phone to decide whether you’ll confront or procrastinate the text message (that will most likely sour your mood). andrea’s eyes widen at the girl as asha finishes up and starts to explain, “who’s cat is that?!” her acrylic nail taps against the table.

“oh, it’s ours,” you peer over your phone, deciding you’d rather not answer your mom’s text (she's asking how degree-related job searching has been, again).

“what?!”

“oh yes, he's my babyyy,” andrea coos while unlocking her phone to show off the many photos, “his name is figaro-.”

asha swipes through the phone in awe, “and when the fuck did this happen?”

“like a few weeks ago, i wanna say…” you turn to look at andrea while trying to remember.

“i’m coming over way more now. oh my god.” she gushes over the many photos of the playful black kitten before returning andrea’s phone.

“please do, it felt like you were gone for so long.” you whine out the beg before taking another sip of the warm broth.

asha sighs (in a way that causes her lips to flutter a little), “i know, i miss hanging out with my friends!”

“and we miss you! your ass is always traveling somewhere we have to soak up all your LA time while we can,” you joke.

the two laugh along with you, “i think i’ll be here for a while…not until like, my birthday.” asha thinks through her schedule and her mouth widens at the thought of her birthday, “oh my god! i forgot to tell you- mostly because it’s kinda far out? so, the past four years i’ve hosted trips for my birthday in late november... and i want you two to come this year!”

your eyes widen in excitement and your mouth is full of noodles, keeping you from letting out the loud 'yes' you wanted to. so andrea answers for the both of you, “well of course, we’ll come!”

asha’s face can’t possibly be stretched further with happiness as she celebrates, “yay, this’ll be so fun! you’ll get to meet some of my girlfriends and f’course the boys will be there so you’ll know a few people already!”

“and where are we going?” you ask with big, curious eyes.

“hawaii!"

౨ৎ

a distinct berry shade drips over the room in full swoops as the leaving sun peeks through matt's curtains ever so gently. your lips are now almost the same shade of the woven fabric, especially after enduring matt's undying and bitter kisses.

you hear him breathe a soft laugh, finding your body's limp, laid-out position to be straight out of an erotic femme painting: right leg and arm stretched above and below you, left arm above your waist to cradle your tits, and left leg bent and falling over the opposing leg.

you turn your head when you recognize his return, whispering, "hey."

matt’s bed dips accordingly when he lowers himself next to you, fixated on your still-exposed silhouette that hosts a few deep hickeys (he’s recently taken a liking to giving you them, his ego gains a small ignition at the thought of him placing them only where he gets to see), rather than your observant eyes.

he finds one he’d kissed into the skin under your printed hello kitty, leaning closer to lick and suckle at it more. you squirm and push his head away with a whine of his name.

he chuckles and moves his hair from his face, “put some fuckin’ clothes on then.” he lays your sweatshirt and panties, he gathered on his way back to you, against your chest.

you lift yourself easily, though a sleepy yawn still makes its way to you as you fit into the hoodie. matt shifts himself to slouch against his headboard. you finish your redressing before moving yourself higher on his bed as well.

matt thinks your phone screen is severely bright and headache-inducing but he doesn't complain as he normally would, instead he's more focused on balancing his joint-rolling necessities atop his wife beater clad torso.

you pay no attention to him as you exchange texts with remi:

REMI - 6:43 PM

OMFG

REMI

this guy im friends w thinks i should set you up on a blind date with a guy he knows :D

REMI

HE JUST SHOWED ME A PIC AND ... fuck

REMI

PLS SAY YOULL DO IT

REMI

u deserve a nice date night

Y/N - 8:36 PM

hi WHATTT

Y/N

idk rem😭😭

REMI

ABOUT TIME U RESPONDED HELLO

REMI

rlly you dont wanna??

Y/N

ill have to think about it

you sigh while turning off your phone, moving your body to better face matt, who's hands work to add the potent plant into his detailed silver grinder. there's obviously no need for you to stay in his bed or hang around for any longer, but as of late you both aren't necessarily itching to kick the other out as soon as clothes are back on.

"i wanna learn," you declare as you sit up more, looking down at his slouched figure.

"to roll?" he asks pausing his smooth routine and licking over his lips expectantly.

"yeah," you move your hoodie’s long sleeve cuffs away from the lower half of your palm, showing him your dedication and anticipation.

matt smirks and continues to zip the plastic bag once more, shaking his head.

"what? why not, matt?" you pout.

“because i’m already good at it,” he shrugs, “you can smoke with me but you don’t have to be the one to roll.”

“‘kay, whatever. i’ll just get someone else to teach me then, like chris or lucas or somethin’” stretching as you collapse back onto his bed and bury your face in the crook of your arm. when matt does nothing to pull you out of your dramatic fit, you decide to mess with him further, grabbing his phone from its place near his thigh and rolling over so that you lie on the plush of your stomach.

you pretend to type (actually just tapping against his uncharacteristically soft lockscreen, displaying a vintage looking photo of a woman you’d only assume to be his mother) then putting the phone up to your ear, mimicking the ring with a burring noise in your throat. “hey lucas! yeah it's me, matt never gave me your number! i know. that is really selfish and unfair!” you nod along while staring at matt who thinks you look and sound so stupid that it’s kind of cute.

you twirl your hair and bite your lip, really getting into character, “you're right, he is the worst. he won’t even let me roll up with him! but that’s fine, i think i may just need someone more skilled and sexy like you to hel-”

matt taps your barely covered ass harder than he intends to, shocking you in the best way. “alright, stop fuckin’ around and pay attention ‘cause i’m not repeating myself,” he softly demands, gesturing you to sit up with his fingers.

"ow!" you rub at the spot and roll your eyes in faux irritation, fighting the urge to smile now that you've successfully recaptured matt's attention and can still feel the heat of his hand on your ass. you try to give yourself grace in moments like this but you can't help but reflect and feel a bit pathetic when having a crush on someone like matt.

matt, who would never take a relationship further than casual sex and unserious after-sex smoke sessions, especially not with you.

"shh. come here, bruh" he hushes you and you obey, shifting to sit next to him, reflecting his bent position. "'kay," he hands you the grinder, mumbling, "take a look," as he grabs one of the natural hemp rolling papers and places the packaging on his nightstand.

you open the silver lid gently, eyes widening slightly and impressed with the dollops of finely crushed weed laying in the container. "how much do you use?"

"all of it," your head practically snaps over to look at him and he sighs, "y/n, it's like half a gram."

you fight the urge to dip your index finger in the crowd of weed and move it around, "still looks like kind of a lot."

"well, it's not," he shakes his head and adjusts his shoulders. "now you're gonna take some in your fingers and place it in this paper," he taps your distracted arm with his hand to bring your attention to the rolling paper he has curled slightly around his thumb. as you begin to take a hold of some of the substance he warns, "and don't do too much at once- i don't need you spillin' any on us or my bed."

"you're such a diva," you huff and softly sprinkle the weed into the wrapper he's holding.

once it's full enough matt shows you how his fingers guide the paper and fold it into its proper joint shape. he moves his hand towards your mouth, "now you gotta lick and seal it." you inch closer, hesitantly peeking your tongue out just a little to lick at the small flap. "okay, you need more than that baby-ass lick. but don't over-do the spit 'cause that'll fuck it up too," he eyes your mouth when you expose more of your tongue, successfully sealing the joint (with matt's guidance).

he finishes off the end of the joint before presenting it to you, "voilà," matt fiddles with the joint in front of your face before you boldly grab it from his hands.

you immediately encourage him with a wave of your fingers, "gimme that lighter, please."

he's slightly impressed with your sudden confidence and adjusts himself (removing the remaining items from his lower stomach, including the lighter you ask for) and reaches over to light it for you.

matt's lip falls between his teeth due to natural anticipation. the sharp, orange hue sparks to life and you gain a shyness as he approaches the joint in your mouth with it. suddenly your fingers take it away from your mouth as you whisper, "wait, matt."

matt dramatically throws his arm down, "yeah?"

"i don't actually know how to do this," a smile spreads across your face when you see matt's mouth slightly ajar and eyes disengaged.

"seriously? you started talkin' like you've at least smoked a couple times."

you hold a laugh in, "well like, i wanna try it. you just have to tell me what to do..."

"inhale the shit," matt gestures his hands, "hold in your lungs, blow it out. it's simple as fuck," he points to your hand holding the joint, "let's see it."

you deadpan, "you're so unhelpful," you shake your head and place it back in your mouth, "just light me up."

he rolls his eyes as his hand moves back up to you, you lean into the flame and immediately inhale as it comes to life in your mouth.

matt just smirks from next to you, amused at your attempt. you focus on holding it in your lungs and close your eyes as you exhale. the smoke exits smoothly and surrounds your head, when you open your eyes you immediately look over to matt who laughs when he sees a cough brewing in your lungs. you push his shoulder just as you begin a small coughing fit.

he goes to grab the joint from your hand but you raise it away, finishing your cough and putting it back into your mouth to taste the odd plant flavor again.

matt's laugh is still there just died down, "who the fuck are you?! 'just light me up' and then here you go actin' like you own shit." he points a finger at you with his eyes big and playful.

you smirk sarcastically, and your eyes crinkle in the softest way, when you lean closer to him in response, blowing smoke in his face.

౨ৎ

"so why're nick and chris staying so late at the warehouse?" you ask and play with the strings of your hoodie.

matt draws lines across your inner thigh with his fingers, "it's nick's month to do inventory and chris bought some crazy wall art shit he had to finish setting up-"

"you're not gonna help them?"

"oh yeah sweetheart, i'll actually go there right now and help them out." his eyes are so dewy and red you find yourself excusing his annoying sarcasm and instead wanting to kiss him and his puffy eyelids and his flushed cheeks, especially when you're sat on top of him like this.

"still, they probably wanted you around," you explain.

"why do you care so much about shit that doesn't involve you? i left them and invited you over so you should be happy." his voice eases his delivery to not come across so harshly while his eyes squint a little.

"you're right, s'not really my place to have a take on y'all's dynamic." you shrug and feel as his hands stop running over your thighs and instead squeeze harshly as he looks in your eyes.

"mmm, thank you for telling me i'm right," he smiles and leans forward to give your jaw a kiss with his wet, pink lips, "say it again and i'll be fully hard."

"you're a dog," you laugh as he pulls away. "what'd you do today?" you whisper, ignoring the sensation that comes with him feeling up your lower half.

"guess." he blinks slowly.

"mmm... i don't know. you tattooed some people, fucked me, made fun of me, smoked..." you list off on each of your fingers.

he nods along as you list each, making different facial expressions depending on the task. "those are all definitely things i did.."

"did you eat?"

"i mean, yeah...ish." he rubs his eyes and his mouth begins to curve slightly, knowing your next sentiment well enough he could say it with you.

as if on queue, you prompt him with a question that tends to come up quite often when the two of you finish fucking, "can we get food?"

౨ৎ

the doorbell of matt's shared townhome rings through the house as the two of you giddily stand near the door, "3, 2, 1.." you count through giggles before opening the door and facing the young man dressed head to toe in papa johns gear.

"oh. my. god!" you exclaim in a ridiculous country accent, "baby come here, they sent a man to sell us insurance or somethin'!" you call out and pinch your eyebrows.

before the man can get a word in matt comes into frame, cowboy hat in tow and his mocking accent deeper yet identical to your own, "now who 'den sent you here to harass my woman? huh?" he holds a tooth pick in his mouth and squints his eyes. "and how much would i owe to have whatever you got in them boxes, son?" he points and you try not to laugh from behind him.

"uh, it's just a pizza delivery that was ordered to this address, sir..." he looks around, checking the numbers displayed next to the door once more.

you peek your head back in, "you know what, charles, it was probably little john, you know he's always orderin' that amy-zun and what not from that tablet!"

"mmm..." matt pretends to think and not laugh as he holds onto a fake belt around his black sweatpants, "my lady's right," he cracks a smile, "you know how the kids get," he tuts and gestures to the man again while pulling out his wallet, "i owe you?"

"only $12.57."

"right," matt grabs a few bills and whistles, "wife, come grab this box for little john would you?" he hands the money over as you reach for the pizza box, "keep the change, boy." he tilts his hat in dismissal and as soon as the door is shut matt's falling to the floor with laughter as you laugh and place the pizza box down, screaming about how close you are to pissing yourself.

౨ৎ

"asha told me about her birthday trip in november," you say, licking your lips of excess pizza sauce.

matt nods and swallows to respond while wiping his mouth, "yeah she does that shit every year."

you adjust yourself on the bed and grab another slice of the cheese pizza in between you two. "it sounds fun, i'm excited," you say before taking a bite.

"yeah, it's usually fun. usually." he laughs.

"meaning?"

"last year in mexico nick almost fist fought asha's boyfriend because he was bein' shitty to her on her birthday. it was a fuckin' brawl everyday of that trip, i swear."

"damn."

"yeah. but don't trip, asha's not letting anything ruin her birthday this time, she loves herself too much to do that." he rolls his eyes in endearment towards his friend.

"well, how about you? your birthday's next weekend.."

matt shakes his head and looks to the side for a moment, "we always struggle to figure out what we're doing for our birthday. the three of us wanna spend that time together but chris wants a party, nick wants a small get together with games, and i'd want a lowkey dinner or something."

"you could always do all of the ideas but on different days."

"that drags it too much, we'll most likely host a party like we did last year, chris will probably nag us enough to make us give up." matt shrugs and takes a bite of his slice.

"well, i'll be at whatever you decide to do," you smile.

"oh will you now?" his eyebrows lift for just a moment in humor.

"well duh."

"and who's inviting you? cause it won't be me," he smiles and stuffs his mouth again right as you push his shoulder and laugh off his bad joke.

꩜⋆ ˚｡⋆🎱˚

tag list (ily):

@rootbeerworshiper @deadxrx @breeloveschris @saintsturn @honestlybabymiracle @hearts4chris @starrysturniolo @blissfulbellss @aoxash @st7rnioioss @blondiesjailer @cupidsword @nickmillersn1gf @sturnioloa @thinkingabkinkyshit101 @tcvazq @novasturniolo03 @imaslutforwhitemen @trinity2058 @taking-a-footnote-in-your-life @1horrormoviewhore1 @keira324 @st7rnioioss

@whicked-hazlatwhore @matthewsturnioloswifey @mayhem-72

#sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo fanfic #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo triplets fan fiction #nick sturniolo #matt sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplets smut #sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo fanfic #matthew sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo x you

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rustedhearts · 6 months

Text

blue christmas (boxer!steve harrington x fem!librarian reader)

summary: it's christmas time, and your boyfriend's traveling the country kicking ass. will he make it home in time—or will you be spending christmas alone?

uses she/her pronouns and female anatomy.

✶ the king of the ring (1989) ✶ christmas carols ✶ main masterlist

tags: christmas!; descriptors for libby's friends but of course, not libby; kinda hurt/comfort (she's just a sad girl!); fluff; alcohol consumption; nothing major.

"i'll have a blue christmas without you. i'll be so blue just thinking about you. decorations of red on a green christmas tree, won't be the same dear, if you're not here with me."

— blue christmas, elvis presley

hawkins, indiana. december 1989.

“I can’t believe you won’t be here.”

The ribboned rubber of the telephone cord curled around your finger. You pouted at the flowered fabric of your bedspread, imagining Steve in a little Christmas sweater he’d never wear—but he’d be here. Cozy, warm, big and bulky under layers of cable-knit.

Christmas was in three days, and your boyfriend wouldn’t even be here.

“I know, angel,” Steve sighed through the phone. “‘m sorry. I wish I could."

And he does. It's your first holiday season together—your first winter full of fluffy white snow, and cold afternoons that make you want to curl up and sleep the days away. It was the season of love and affection; the time of the year meant for nuzzling noses and burying in coats for warmth.

You imagined so many times what the holiday season would look like if Steve were here to stroll through the town square holding your mittened hand. He'd come up for weekends—twice since the beginning of November—but it was never long enough. He'd get in Friday night, and have to leave Sunday morning. You never got to sleep in and feign domestic bliss, tangled in his sheets in the white, early light.

Too many times, Steve kissed your head in a half sleep and whispered his goodbye; a note on his pillow where his head was supposed to be.

Angel,

I'll miss you more than ever.

—Steve

"Me too," you mumbled, pout evident in the huff and puff of your quiet words. You let your chin fall to your arm propped on the edge of your bed, glaring ahead at your wallpaper.

The house fogged with warmth from a home-cooked meal roasting in the oven downstairs. Your mother had a jazzy Christmas tune pipping from the stereo on the counter. Your father—last you checked forty minutes ago—was reading the paper in his armchair beneath the yellow lamplight of the living room. Your brother was somewhere up the street getting into trouble with his friends, driven to boredom without school to keep them busy. You had a Christmas party to attend tomorrow night, and you still hadn't picked an outfit, or wrapped your Secret Santa gift.

"Baby," Steve sighed. "C'mon, don't...don't make me feel bad."

You rolled onto your back. "I'm not, I'm not...I'm sorry."

Commotion clattered behind Steve—hotel doors opening and closing, voices muttering. The bed springs squeaked with his shifting. Your chest ached and squeezed with what you already knew was coming.

"I gotta go, angel...I'll call you later, alright? Be good f' me?"

You pinched your eyes shut, willing the stinging to stop. You nodded without words a moment, and then heard the buzz of his waiting. "Okay...love you."

"Love you too, baby. Bye."

"Blue Christmas" spun on Lisa's turn table in the sunken den of her parent's basement living room. Still stuck in 1975 and decorated by her mother for the sole purpose of hosting cocktail parties, it was the perfect place for Lisa to hold her first "adult" holiday party: pink shag carpet, silver-tinseled Christmas tree, pastel wrapping and perfect bows, and geometric decor of diamonds and stars on the wood-paneled wall.

Lisa, Holly, Tammy (and even yourself) dressed in their best getups, hair and makeup perfected for Polaroids. They already snapped enough to cover the end table, and in every single one, your smile never met your eyes. You were too concerned with ruining Lisa's highly-anticipated party to be a drag, but the lack of Steve really weighed on you.

"Oh, honey," Holly sighed, padding her way over to you. She flopped onto the sofa beside you, arm wrapped around your shoulders. "You miss him real bad, huh?"

You sighed, head falling onto her arm. "That obvious?"

She sipped her (fourth) cocktail—something red and fruity and rimmed with crushed candy cane. "You haven't spoken a word in thirty minutes. It was just a hunch."

"I thought he'd at least...try to be here. I mean, he doesn't have a fight until next week. He could fly back and forth—but maybe that's...not right of me to ask that."

Holly hummed, setting her coupe glass on the Polaroid table. She turned to you, blonde hair neatly curled and pinned on either side, and pursed her glossy mouth.

"It's not too much to ask, hun. If he wanted to be here, he'd be here. He said he loves you, then he wouldn't miss your first Christmas together."

You peered at her, wondering if this were true. From their place near the tree, arranging gifts and flicking through Elvis albums, Lisa and Tammy looked up.

"Oh, that's not true!" Tammy squawked. "He's just busy. They're talkin' about him all the way in New York now."

You chewed on the inside of your cheek, stomach twisting. "They are?"

If Steve were truly gaining popularity across the east coast, you had more than just a missed Christmas to worry about. You sensed its arrival—his fame and popularity. Steve was up and coming, and he had an aggression not many fighters had these days. He had the drive, the passion, the determination. You saw it all in his eyes. You knew he wouldn't stop until he was the best, and he wasn't afraid to make the sacrifices necessary to be just that.

And maybe it was selfish of you to want him all to yourself—but you've never felt this way about anyone before. Steve was everything.

"Oh, Libby," Lisa cooed, hurriedly rushing your way. Tammy followed, and soon they were all surrounding you, perched on the sofa and the coffee table.

"It'll be okay! He loves you, it's so obvious. You just have to realize...maybe his career will always come first. You just have to find a way to be okay with that," Lisa offered meekly.

You nodded, but only because your tongue felt like lead in your mouth. The girls glanced at each other momentarily, and then Holly stood in a flash of sparkly, bubblegum pink and glitter.

"Well, to hell with Steve! Let's get drunk and open presents."

The glasses drained themselves, really. The records spun and scratched, the pretty, gilded wrapping paper shred to pieces, and the girls in the den soon became nothing but giggling messes. When you got bored of the music, you turned to the television, turning the knob until you reached a fuzzy, pixelated picture of It's A Wonderful Life, though the static-y voices fell on deaf ears.

"Oh, it's darling, Libby, really," Holly gushed, holding up the pink satin slip you gifted her for Christmas.

Holly was easiest to shop for—she'd be pleased with anything pink, soft, and fancy.

"I'm glad you—hic!—like it. And I love my book, Tammy. It's so beautiful."

The book, a cloth-bound classic, was wine-colored and gorgeous. It was so pretty you didn't even want to put it on the shelf. It would sit on your dresser for a little while to look at.

Lisa gave Tammy a pair of red Mary Janes, and Holly gave Lisa a new set of hot rollers. The remains of the wrapping paper sat in bits and pieces around you on the carpet, and you had to shoo away Lisa's cocker spaniel, Lady, before she ate it all. She trudged into your lap, shedding soft hair over your dress as you stroked her long, floppy ears, watching the pink-flushed faces of your friends through the glowing white light of the Christmas tree.

Despite Steve's absence, you were happy. You had your friends.

The giggles faded when the doorbell rang through the house. Lisa waved it off, peering up the steps of the den toward the first floor. "Probably just a caroler. Ignore it."

But the doorbell rang again. Lisa huffed, and Tammy and Holly giggled as she fumbled up the steps. In her absence, they turned to you, all gushing over each other's presents and asking after more cocktails. They kissed at Lady in your lap and tossed popcorn at her waiting mouth, and you fell in line with the amusement until Lisa's socked feet came flapping into the room.

"Libby, Steve's here."

You weren't sure you heard her right. The giggles dwindled again, and your hand stilled over Lady's head in a half-stroke. Your heart was in your mouth, pulsing dumbly.

"W-what?"

Lisa, out of breath and wide-eyed, had her hands on her hips with an ecstatic smile. "He's here. Steve, he's here—he's waiting outside."

"Well, for God's sake, Lisa, why didn't you invite him in?" Tammy chimed in.

Lisa shot her a glare. "He said he'd wait outside for her! Probably heard your cackling and got too scared to come in."

Holly soothed your friend's sting with a half-hug around Tammy's shoulders, but you were still numb. You carefully scooped Lady up and placed her on the floor, away from the wrapping paper. You pushed to your feet, smoothing down the skirt of your dress. You put your book on the sofa, and turned to your friends still on the floor.

"Do I...do I look alright?"

"Gorgeous, babe," Holly beamed. "Let me just..."

She stood, reaching up to fix your hair. She fluffed it, poofed it, found your purse on a hook near the door and spritzed your perfume at the crown of your head, and under your ears. She handed you your lipgloss and a mirror, and when you were content with the pink-eyed doeness of your appearance, you stepped toward the stairs.

"Go, go!" Lisa ushered you, giving you a nudge.

You steadied yourself on the wall, steps careful and cautious. Those drinks made you a little woozy, but nothing felt as fuzzy as the thought of Steve waiting for you in the snow. He came all the way here, for you. Your cheeks warmed at the very thought. Your stomach crawled its way up to your throat.

You made your way through the house, taking one last glance in the nearest mirror, before pulling open the door.

A cold rush immediately burst into the house, but any thought of shivering fled your mind at the sight of Steve looming before your eyes. Brown leather coat, black sweater, Levi jeans tight at the hips and loose at the calves. He had his hands cupped around his mouth, blowing hot, white air into his palms—but at the sound of your steps, at the scent of you, he stopped.

All you could do, for just a moment, was stare. Three long weeks since you last saw him—those perfect, round hazel eyes, those high, rosy cheeks. The tip of his nose was wind-nipped pink, the tops of his ears blown red. He smelled like vetiver and leather cologne, and he looked beautiful.

"Oh, Steve."

You crashed into his chest, arms wound tight around his stomach. He enveloped you in his own, holding you as close as he could; and the warmth of him immediately melded with yours. You buried your nose into his chest and hummed, eyes pinched shut just to hold onto this. This moment, this scene, this feeling of him so close after so long apart. You didn't want to let go.

"Merry Christmas, angel," he whispered, and then his mouth sat atop your head, pressing it into a kiss.

When the cold got unbearable, you pulled Steve inside. Fingers intertwined and cheeks sore with grinning, you skipped your way back down to the den where your friends feigned innocence despite their heaving breaths.

"Well look who's here," Holly cooed, watching you tug Steve down the steps.

You giggled, tipping into his side, one foot coming to kick up giddily. You felt like a schoolgirl with her very first crush. That's how love should always be, right?

"Steve, you know everyone. This is Lisa, Holly, and Tammy. Girls, this is Steve."

Your friends waggled their fingers in bashful little waves, and Steve lifted a wide palm in hello. You could smell the Marlboros on his coat, see the outline of a new pack in the front of his pocket. His hands were starting to warm up against your own.

"And this is Lady," you cooed, watching the cocker spaniel sniff at Steve's boots.

You dipped down and scooped her up, bringing her up against your chest to wave a tiny paw at Steve. He cracked a sideways smile, reaching out to scratch at her chin. You let her scamper back over toward the girls by the tree, and turned to Steve with your fingers looped together behind your back.

You could barely contain the giddy glee flooding through your body. Steve noticed. He nicked you under the chin with a gentle knuckle, and another small kiss placed on your sticky mouth.

"You girls been drinkin'?" he gruffed, thumb pressing on your bottom lip.

You shrugged. "A little. It's Christmas, Steve."

He hummed, eyeing the dazzled, feminine setup of the room. A mess of pretty paper, tinsel knocked astray, empty coupe glasses and picked-at pigs-in-a-blanket and bowls of snacks, a dog sniffing around for scraps and attention—harmless, he decided. Maybe even sweet.

As if waiting for his approval, and recognizing the submission, Steve turned back to you with a small smile. "Okay."

You took him by the hand again, tugging him toward the tree. "Come on."

But Steve paused, tugging you with just the resistance of his solid stance, snapping back like a rubber-band.

"Wait, honey..." You turned to him, and he reached into the lining of his coat. "Got somethin' for you."

He pulled out a slim, black velvet box. You pressed your lips into a smile and huddled close.

"But, Steve...yours is at home—"

"—shh. Just open it."

You were acutely aware of your friends craning to see over your shoulder from their place on the floor, petting mindlessly at Lady and munching at shortbread. But in this moment, it was just you and Steve. And he watched you intently once he handed over the box, gnawing at his own lip. God, he wanted a smoke. He just wanted you to love it.

You pushed the box open, hinges snapping back to reveal a navy blue satin lining, and a gorgeous golden locket strung inside. An "S" sat etched on the center of an intricately engraved heart, adorned with swirling roses on a delicate chain.

"Oh, Steve." It was all you seemed to be able to say today.

"D' you like it?" he asked, voice edged with worry.

You fingered at the locket, feeling the cool metal. "I love it, Steve. It's gorgeous."

He exhaled. "Good. Lemme put it on."

With fingers too big for such delicate things, he plucked the necklace from its box and pulled the clasp open. You spun around, moving your hair out of the way for his hands. With your back to him, you could properly convey your excitement to your friends, who mirrored your beaming grin with equal delight.

The locket rested perfectly in the center of your chest, and once clasped, you felt it against your skin with your palm.

"Thank you, Steve. I love it so much."

Steve, hands braced on your shoulders, tipped his head and kissed your cheek. "Anything, angel. It's all yours."

Lisa snapped the head of a gingerbread-man cookie off with her teeth, and Holly cooed. Tammy busied herself with the dog.

But you had a band of butterflies in your stomach and a drum line in your chest, and you turned to look up at Steve with nothing but adoration.

"Look inside." He nudged his nose toward the locket again.

Wedging a nail between the hinges, you popped the heart open. A crudely-cut picture of yourself and Steve—so minuscule it would be difficult to discern from a blob if you hadn't recognized the very moment captured in time—sat in a black and white fashion in the heart.

Another smile at Steve, loving and sweet. "Who knew you were so romantic, Steve Harrington?"

He tucked his bruised fists into his coat pockets and shrugged. "I try."

Steve had hours before he had to leave and a plane ticket burning a hole in his back pocket—but it was Christmas, and he'd do anything, even blow off his coach and a team full of people, if it meant seeing your pretty face.

"Merry Christmas, angel."

The softest of kisses shared between warm mouths. Strawberry-cigarette smooches were what life was all about.

"Merry Christmas, Steve."

#rolly!#boxer!steve harrington #steve harrington #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington hurt/comfort #steve harrington fandom #steve harrington au #steve the hair harrington #stranger things fic #stranger things au #steve stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #boxer!steve

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femdomdiaries · 6 months

Text

Random Gojo Headcanons

If yall want me to put any of these into a separate post to better fit your blog theme let me know. It’s just random thoughts rn.

Tw: NSFW below cut. MDNI. One of these mentions breeding qnd pregnancy kink, the other mentions that gojo is a service switch.

SFW Headcanons (Realistic)

He's canonically addicted to sweets so do not underestimate what he would do for a Klondike bar.

On a museum date he would giggle and point everytime he sees a naked statue.

Doesn’t sleep often but when he does he often has nightmares about his past. Never when you’re around.

Doesn't drink but is fluent in drunk and can often be found being a bad influence to intoxicated people at parties.

Hope you don't get embarrassed easily because he has no shame and there will be loads of PDA.

Doesn’t wear headphones for the same reason he doesn’t get drunk.

He would steal your clothes, then when you catch him wearing your stuff, he'd deny that they're yours. You can't really fight him about it because he honestly wears it better anyway.

If you’re shorter than him (he’s 6’3 so likely), he rests his chin on your head when he hugs you from behind.

Chronically late so you have to tell him things in advance.

He always wins competitive games so now he tends to stick to creativity oriented ones like Minecraft. From an artistic perspective he tends to suck at those.

Obscure/Crack Headcanons

He licks the icing off the oreos and puts them back in the package.

Snags bites of your food but complains if you eat his food.

To make up for stealing your clothes he'd order you a "smoking hot outfit" he saw online. But when it arrives it’s barbie doll sized.

Don’t worry, he also got you these really nice shoes. But when the shoes come in they're also barbie doll sized. He puts them on his fingers and walks them up your face.

When he grabs ass or gropes you anywhere he says honk honk or beep beep or something like that.

Still has the original flappy bird on his phone. He holds the high score. Could have gotten higher but he lost interest after a couple thousand.

He made a portrait of you out of macaroni art. You keep it at your job. Your coworkers often say how they wish their children were still in the cute art making stage.

His phone wallpaper is a picture of you naked with hot face emojis censoring your private bits.

His lock screen is you with the potato filter.

Keeps a plant because plants are often unpredictable so even he wouldn't get that right by default.

Had an Undertale phase. You know how Sans is lazy and puts forth no effort because he knows it’ll all just be reset by the player anyway? Gojo canonically doesn’t get involved in major conflicts or try to solve everything because he knows that when he dies it’ll all just revert back to the usual. Twinnem.

Actively played pokemon go when it came out and was definitely on team instinct. Probably trespassed in weird places tryna catch rare pokemon and was single handedly carrying team instinct in his region. (Arguments could be made for team Mystic)

NSFW headcanons (realistic)

Bros the type to beg for sex in public then giggle loudly when you're trying not to get caught in the public bathroom

Since he's kinda just the best at everything, he's been worshipped his whole life, so praise would just go over his head. But degrading him? Using power play to humiliate him or make him seem inadequate in some way? Works wonders.

He would send you really explicit texts and get you all hot and bothered only for it to turn out that he was talking about tres leches cake.

Playfully mocks you for not being able to keep up with his stamina.

While he may have infinite cursed energy, he has a limit to his physical stamina and does eventually get tired after going too many rounds.

Believes that the future rides on the youth, so heavy on the breeding kink and pregnancy kink. Wants kids so if you'll allow it best believe this man is not pulling out.

Obscure/Crack NSFW Headcanons

As a service switch he's more than willing to make up for outperforming you by servicing you on demand. It doesn't matter where or when you're horny, he's all yours.

He gets even more turned on when you push him past his limits to use him like a toy.

Says he wants to bring "a special friend" to bed but it's just a stray cat he found. (If you're allergic, it's a life sized cat plush.)

Answers the phone during sex and doesn't care how loud you are, will talk as if nothing else is going on

"Oh, I have to take this. Oi, Nanami. Yes, this is a good time. Hmm? Oh, nobody's hurt, that's just (Y/n). Say hi (Y/n)."

You'd think his favorite sex toy would be some type of gawk gawk 3000 but no, it's a fleshlight that glows in the dark.

Would love to be a rope bunny but he’s just too strong and always breaks the restraints when he gets excited.

He’ll still want to be tied up if only for aesthetics. Maybe you’ll find curse imbued cuffs on the dark web or something.

#gojo satoru #jjk gojo #gojo x reader #gojo fluff #gojo smut #jjk headcanons #jujutsu kaisen #jjk crack #jujutsu kaisen headcanons #jujutsu kaisen gojo #satoru gojo

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livingindabisribcage · 2 months

Text

Shigaraki NSFW Headcanons

Cause he makes me so insatiabley horny

Warning: nsfw obviously

This is the horniest fucker to ever exist, but he is a virgin until you

like it's bad, he's watched so much porn , he genuinely had an addiction

so when you two start getting sexual, expect a couple things

1. he doesn't last very long. however, he does regain his stamina pretty quickly so you can get back at it pretty soon.

2. he has no experience, so he's gonna try and use the weird porn he's watched as a basis - which he realizes very soon does not work

so after a few times of him kinda embarrassing himself, he goes full 180 and becomes a nervous mess

so for a while, you'll have to be in control. maybe not physically unless you want to be, but you'll have to guide him and very much show him exactly what he's supposed to do

consider: he loves you. yes he's a horny fuck, but he's also scared of people coming close to him, he's scared of vulnerability, and this feels very vulnerable. so he trusts you, and he cares about you more than anything. he really wouldn't have sex with someone unless he genuinely cared about them

meaning: he wants to make you happy. he wants you to think he's doing a good job and for you to feel fucking amazing

so he takes everything you say very seriously, and once he gets more comfortable your sex life gets amazingly better

because beyond what youve told him you like, he pays attention to all the little noises and faces and body reactions so he knows what you like exactly and he takes advantage of that in every way

he slowly becomes more and more dominant, if you're dominant you'll probably fight for it often, but if you're submissive he happily takes control

he doesn't like not being in control, but he allowed it because he knew that it'd benefit the both of you, so now he wants to be completely in control to make up for it

his favorite position is probably doggy, but in front of a mirror. Tomura loves ass, he loves seeing your ass and being able to grab at it and spank it (and maybe play with the hole if he's not already in that one) but he also loves to see your face, to see you fall apart as he fucks you, so he'll grab your hair and force you to watch yourself in the mirror

he spends most of his time around the league, which means you do too. you're basically attached to his hip at all times, and tomura likes to show you off. which also means he loves making you scream his name all night so everyone knows what's going on

he'd also be very tempted to fuck you in front of everyone - it probably stems from being told he's ugly and scary looking his whole life but he's fucking someone as hot as you so he has to rub it in everyone's faces

during a meeting, where you know he has a little makeshift throne, he's definitely had his cock buried in you while you sit on his lap, squirming around trying to get any stimulation you can, him lazily thrusting into you every now and then

his ability to regain stamina quick only gets worse once he goes through his whole buff transformation, you're getting railed for literal hours

he loves overstimulating you, he wants you to beg to cum and tell him it's too much and that you're gonna die if he doesnt stop, but keep letting him fuck you

at first, the thought of toys made him kinda insecure, but after impulsively buying you a dildo he loves it. whether it's shoving it in both of your holes, or him fucking your mouth while you fuck yourself with it, he thinks it's so hot

his wallpaper is definitely a nude

he likes superiority kinks, probably not daddy, but being called Master, or Sir, he gets so hard

his dick is long too, like 8 inches, but it's a little thin. he has scrawny man dick syndrome. it does get a little thicker when he gets buffer though

hes a sadist, so he'll put you through as much pain and humiliation as you can handle. he'll spank your ass red, yank your hair so hard you think he'll rip it out, bite you till you bleed, hell he'll even pull your panties over your head while he fucks you just to humiliate you (side note- he definitely has a wedgie kink)

if you're more vanilla (no shame), then he'll respect that. again, he loves you and it's more so about you, so he'd keep his fantasies to himself.

#shigaraki #shigaraki tomura #bnha #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #league of villains #shigaraki x reader #shigaraki imagine #shigaraki headcanons

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bishopsbeloved · 2 months

Text

bad idea!

kate bishop x fem reader

No matter how much of a bad idea it may seem to go back to Kate Bishop, you can’t help it. You’re like a moth to a flame

inspired by a girl in red song, mentions of sex but no actual smut, fwb/ex gf kate, dumb lesbians, kind of just a drabble icl, 1.1k words

NOTE: my requests are open!!!!! send me anything you’d like!!!!!! i can’t guarantee i’ll get it done but you’re welcome to send things in🫶

It was such a bad idea to get involved with Kate Bishop again.

It’s so stupid that this even happened. Every fucking time things end between you you’re resolute in your position, you’re determined that this will truly be the end, but Kate Bishop has this way of drawing people back in. You’ve fallen victim to her strange unspeakable allure more times than you can count. That’s how you ended up here in the first place.

Yes, okay, fine, she’s good at sex. When she sends a you up? text you can’t help the way your heart beats a little faster at the thought of the chase resuming between the two of you, of cat and mouse returning to flirtatious antics with one inevitable end. No matter how many times you try to escape it, you and Kate Bishop always seem to find your way back to one another, only to sourly part again and leave you even more lost than you were before. You don’t know what to do. You can’t fucking stand her. You can’t get away from her. You’re not sure you want to.

Nobody else has ever touched you in the way she does, or as well as she can. No matter how much you pretend otherwise she is the one you crave; she’s the one on your mind whilst the hands of others roam your body. You have this deep, innate, carnal need for her — for everything about her — not just her fingers and her tongue and her strap but also her whiny raspy voice first thing in the morning (she, annoyingly adorably, hates mornings) and the sloppy neck kisses she delivers to say goodnight and the kind of sheepish shifty look whenever she brings you a token of her love. The latter doesn’t happen much anymore, not since the two of you broke up — since she dumped you — which on paper ought to mean the two of you no longer see each other. And yet more nights than not one of you has crawled back to and somehow ended up in the other’s bed. It seems you’re both full of bad ideas, and yet neither of you can get enough.

When you wake up in her room again, the purple wallpaper adorned with medals and trophies and Hawkeye posters all too familiar by this point, that feeling of heaviness settles in your stomach. For fuck’s sake. You’re always disappointed in yourself, the morning after. There’s a reason the two of you aren’t together anymore — so why do you keep waking up in each other’s beds?

You look down at where Kate Bishop is nestled against your chest, still bare-skinned against you after last night’s activities. It’s irritating how beautiful she is even when she’s asleep. She looks so lovely in your arms you can almost imagine that being your reality again, until you harshly remind yourself Kate doesn’t want that. She doesn’t want you like that, she broke up with you and the only reason she sees you anymore is for sex. The thought leaves a bitter taste in your mouth, it makes your stomach turn, and suddenly you want nothing more than to be away from her.

Crawling out of Kate’s bed when she’s wrapped herself around you like this is never easy. Perhaps in unconsciousness, in her most vulnerable state, she’s more reluctant to let you go. Sometimes you feel a little guilty leaving before she wakes so often, but you have to, for your own good — for the good of both of you. When you’re not fucking you don’t really know what to say to her. Hey, you were the love of my life, why’d you dump my ass? No thanks. She has these big blue puppy-dog eyes that just make you feel horrible about the whole thing, and everything you’ve ever done, ever. No, you’re better off leaving now.

“You’re leaving,” says a small, scratchy voice from behind you, as you stumble about in the half-dark of the room locating your clothing. It’s a statement, not a question, but she still doesn’t sound entirely certain.

You don’t really know how to respond, you’re kind of wishing this wasn’t happening and rushing to find your other sock so you can get out of here, so you just let out a kind of low grunt of acknowledgement.

“You always leave,” Kate responds, and you don’t have to turn around to know that she’s pouting a little. You can hear it in her voice. The fact you can tell, that you know her well enough to tell only pisses you off even further, and you let out a kind of bitter laugh.

“It’s not like you fucking want me here.”

“That’s not true.” She pauses, and you hear the little noises she makes as she sits up and stretches. “I do want you here. I keep bringing you back, don’t I?”

“Yeah, cause a good fuck is all I’m worth to you,” you say angrily, before closing your eyes and tilting your head back. No. You can’t let her ass ruin your day when you have so much shit to do.

“No, that’s not true,” she tries, whilst at the same time you groan “I can’t do this, Kate.”

She sits up a little straighter, eyes wide, voice an octave higher. “W— what? Can’t do what?”

“I can’t do you.”

“But I— you keep— you keep coming back, though.”

This hits a nerve, and you laugh incredulously, finally turning around to face her. She’s looking up at you in the semi-darkness of the room, her face unreadable. “Yeah, and I shouldn’t. It’s fucking pathetic. I can’t get over my ex so I’ll sleep with her whenever she asks. It’s not— it’s— Kate, I can’t keep doing this.” You bury your head in your hands.

Vaguely, you hear the gentle rustle of fabric in Kate’s side of the room. You just need a moment to collect yourself and you’ll get the fuck out of here.

You hear her footsteps padding towards you, and you open your eyes again. She’s haphazardly tugged on a shirt and is stood before you, bare-legged, almost doleful in expression. “I’m sorry,” she says, barely a whisper. “This is all— I keep fucking up. I’m sorry.”

“I don’t know what you want from me,” you say tiredly.

“I— I don’t know. Everything. You.” She steps towards you uncertainly.

“Kate,” you say, and you’re not sure who moved first, but within moments her lips are on yours again. When she tugs you back towards the bed, you let her, your stomach churning with the indescribable sensation of simultaneous adoration and angst that her touch fills you with. She’s so pretty it actually physically hurts.

God, you’re totally fucked.

#kate bishop x reader #kate bishop x fem reader #kate bishop x female reader #kate bishop x you #hailee steinfeld x reader #hailee steinfeld #kate bishop #bisexual kate bishop #lesbian kate bishop #gxg #god i love kate bishop #your honour she’s a woman kisser #marvel #hawkeye #yeah

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saetoru · 2 years

Note

Chaing your wallpaper to an ugly pic of them and not telling <3

JUJUTSU KAISEN + SETTING YOUR WALLPAPER AS AN UGLY PHOTO OF THEM

☰ CHARACTERS ⋮ gojo satoru, geto suguru, fushiguro toji, itadori yuji, fushiguro megumi

— contents ⋮ fluff + sfw, slightly suggestive at toji’s — minors do not follow me though i’m an 18+ blog

— notes ⋮ THIS IS SUCH A CUTE IDEA

𖧷 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎

gojo has never seen a bad picture of himself before—not until now, at least. he stares at the picture on your lock screen in pure shock, grimacing slightly at how his lips are parted and his cheek is smooshed against your chest. he even thinks that’s a tiny bit of drool on his lips, and he stares at you with narrowed eyes and a pout.

“sweetheart, you have to change this picture,” he whines, “if megumi sees this he’ll be so mean—you have no idea how mean kids his age can be, it’s ridiculous!”

“what’s ridiculous is you getting hurt over a kid in the first place,” you snort, smiling fondly at the image on your phone. gojo looks relaxed for once, nestled comfortably against your chest as his body drapes over yours—you’d snapped the picture as blackmail at first, but the soft flush of his cheeks and the slight crinkle on his nose makes you rethink if it was ever ugly to be blackmail in the first place.

“hey! you’re just as rude,” he huffs, “are you hanging out with him more? he’ll be mean to you too, just watch. and then i’ll—”

“you look cute, toru,” you hum, smiling gently as you stare at the photo. he blinks at the way your eyes soften as they fix on him through the screen, and he thinks for a moment that maybe there’s not one bad photo of him after all.

“yeah, you’re right. only i could make drooling adorable,” he grins smugly, plopping himself to lay on your chest, sighing quietly when your fingers thread through his hair.

“besides, megumi already has the photo.”

𖧷 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎

“what is this?” geto demands, showing you your lock screen. he’d only went to check the time, but the sight waiting for him was almost a jumpscare if he’s ever seen one—and of his own face, no less. giggling, you take the phone from him, admiring your handy work.

“it’s a picture,” you grin cheekily, making him roll his eyes as he glares at you. it’s a horrendous picture, and he wants you to change it. immediately. his hair is a mess—and geto suguru takes his hair rather seriously.

“i can see that, genius,” he says flatly, “but why is it your lock screen? change it,” he demands, crossing his arms and pulling away when you try to wrap your arms around his neck. whining, you tug at his bicep, pouting at him to let you cling against his body, but he only pulls away as he narrows his eyes at you.

“but suguru, it’s so cute!”

“it’s hideous,” he grunts, lips curling in disgust.

“yeah and oddly cute,” you argue, poking his cheek. you giggle once more, grinning in victory when he caves and wraps his arms around your waist. he gives your ass a slight squeeze, chuckling when you gasp and swat at his shoulder.

“wait till i get a bad picture of you,” he grumbles, “see if you think it’s cute then.”

𖧷 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈

“the fuck is this?” toji demands gruffly, eyebrow raised as he waits for your answer. turning your face away from him with a hmph, you promptly ignore him, which makes his eyes narrow.

every time you and toji have a slight disagreement, it becomes your mission to become the bane of his existence—like right now, for example. last night’s argument has been your excuse to slowly drive him insane, and this picture is your new attempt.

and so is the silent treatment.

“think i asked a question, doll,” he scowls, “what is up with this photo? it’s hideous. ”

“would you rather i use another man’s photo for my lock screen then?” you raise a brow, crossing your arms as you finally turn to look at him. he glares at you, as though even just the idea is an insult. “you’re lucky the picture’s still you after last night,” you say flatly.

toji is as stubborn as you, however, so he blinks for a moment before a lopsided smirk tugs at his scarred lips, a casual shrug falling off his shoulders as he hums.

“alright,” he says smoothly, “i’ll just have to use a picture from the other night to settle the score,” he grins, watching as your eyes widen when you register his words. scowling, you poke a finger at his chest as you glare at him.

“you’d better not! don’t you dare even think about using such obscene—”

“then i think you should start bein’ a bit nicer to me, doll,” he says, voice husky as his lips hover over your mouth, “cause i got plenty of pictures i’m dyin’ to use,” he grins before pressing his lips to yours as your breath hitches in your throat.

𖧷 𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐃𝐎𝐑𝐈

itadori glances at your phone screen as you unlock it, flinching a little to himself when he sees that it’s been changed to such an unflattering photo. pouting, he nudges his head onto your chest as your hand buries into his hair immediately, threading through the soft locks.

“baby, why’d you have to use that picture?” he whines, huffing into your shirt. you chuckle, pressing a kiss to his forehead as you lock your phone to admire the lock screen you’ve set.

“what do you mean? it’s so cute, yuji! you look adorable,” you insist, turning the screen to him so he can get a better look. he shields his eyes dramatically, making your head fall back against the pillow as you giggle.

“i look like i need a trigger warning,” he groans, but you only hum, turning the phone back to yourself and staring at the picture in awe—he doesn’t quite remember when you snapped it, or how for that matter, but you stare at the picture like it’s special. a small part of his heart races at how your gaze softens when it falls on him through the screen.

“that’s so rude, i’m a good photographer,” you insist, “and plus you always look cute.”

“well, if you say so,” he mumbles, blush dusting across his cheeks as you lean and kiss them sweetly.

𖧷 𝐌𝐄𝐆𝐔𝐌𝐈

megumi raises a brow when you set your phone down, staring at the picture you’ve set of him—it’s not the best picture, but he watches as you smile slightly and stare at the photo for a moment before turning to him.

“i uh…didn’t realize i was your lock screen,” he mumbles, blushing as you giggle and cup his cheeks. he leans into your palms, relaxing slightly while your thumb traces over the warm skin.

“i had to, that picture is so cute,” you beam, “you’re so cute, gumi,” you hum before planting a scatter of soft pecks along his cheeks, pressing one last one over the tip of his nose. he grunts, blushing deeper as he rolls his eyes.

“of course, you’d pick the worst picture ever,” he grumbles, but his hands grip your waist tightly, bringing you flush against his chest as you gasp.

“i picked the best one! you’re just a hater,” you pout, “and you’re actually smiling for once, too! try being less of a grump, sometimes,” you poke at his cheek, making him throw you a glare—but it’s soft, doesn’t quite match the soft gaze in his eyes.

“i picked a better picture of you for mine,” he raises a brow. you wriggle yours, pinching his cheek as you giggle.

“aw, i’m your wallpaper too? how romantic of you,” you tease, laughing when his blush rises to the tip of his ears before he scowls and pulls away, only for you to bring him into a sweet kiss.

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