#enjoy the stupidest fucking idea I had
Text
Iterators if they didn't struggle to be bugs or smth idk I never read the lore
#rain world#hollow knight#five pebbles#looks to the moon#soul twister#enjoy the stupidest fucking idea I had#I mean both are scholars#and searched for the solution of a big problem
246 notes
·
View notes
Note
toji’s reaction to seeing you in short shorts/booty shorts around the house 🏃♀️
PAYBACK
a/n: sorry anon i didnt exactly like how this turned out but i still hope u enjoy !!!
wc: 2.1k
warnings: sorta crack-ish in the beginning, pleasure dom toji, soft dom toji, praise, toji is obsessed w/ you, kitchen sex, clothed sex, oral (f! receiving) / cunnilingus, pussy slaps! (both w/ his hand and d!ck), fingering, clit stimulation, tit + ass fondling, unprotected sex, p → v penetration, creampie / breeding kink, brief aftercare, n*sfw under the cut
there were things that toji was good at holding back on, like telling you that you might’ve added a bit more garlic than butter for a garlic spread. he doesn’t tell you how your body heat warms him up fast and he desperately wants to pull away from you, but your slumbering state is so peaceful he would rather burn.
and then sometimes he wishes he would just bite the bullet (even if you were his baby), because you were currently getting back at him for giving you the silent treatment. if he could do it over a trivial thing, so could you. toji’s probably still mad about your guess in charades, where you couldn’t understand that he was telling you he was riding a tricycle and not a bicycle, that mere difference of wheels causing a major roadblock in your relationship.
it was by far the stupidest thing you’ve argued about (you assume he had a bad day, too), and you were willing to talk things out and tell him he could’ve just put up three fingers instead of pointing aggressively to an invisible tricycle, but he opts to glare at you and sigh instead. you can’t believe he’s getting this worked up over a game of charades too, so you tease him the only other way you know how to.
it hadn’t been that long since you talked, but you figured you’ll need to start on dinner soon, getting a sick idea in your head when you see the new booty shorts you had ordered laying on your bed. you definitely thought it would be better for another day, but life is short and toji is not, so you pull them on and they feel divine, remembering the content smile on your face when your boyfriend had offered to pay for them — a reward well received when you check out your ass in the full-length mirror and the way it shaped your lower half.
the evening carries on as usual, but you can feel his stare once you emerge from your room in one of his shirts and he thinks you aren’t wearing any pants until you’re pulling out saucepans and reaching for the spices in the top cupboard that his shirt rides up and he can see your plump fucking ass; he chokes on his water.
with your back turned, you stifle a little grin and continue with your chores as the shorts ride up with each walk from living room to kitchen, but it’s all under the guise of cleaning and setting the table, wiping aimlessly, too, at the coffee table in front of the TV where toji sat, even if you weren’t eating there. you feel eyes on you when you return to the kitchen and continue your torture, cooking up a storm and bending over while looking into the fridge, while pulling out the plates for dinner, while—
“those the shorts i bought you?” bingo. although you’re not quite ready to talk to him yet, you succumb with a curt nod. toji obviously isn’t satisfied with your answer, footsteps approaching to lean on the kitchen island as his eyes keep his gaze locked at your butt.
“gonna ignore me for the whole day, hm?” it seemed like toji had other plans, his larger hand trailing up your thighs to your ass before curling around your waist. he’s pressing his front against you, hips grinding slightly even though you know he wants to do anything but that. you’re not wearing underwear, either, so the sensation of his bulge against your cunt is a lovely feeling and it takes everything in you not to moan.
you have to bring yourself back to reality to turn off the stove that feels so far away, hands clutching onto the countertops as you chase the familiar drag of your sex against his but toji only tuts, landing a slap onto your ass. “dinner first, baby.”
bastard. you roll your eyes and groan, but you didn’t seem to catch his innuendo, so you’re yelping when he suddenly flips you around and tugs at your shorts, pulling it off of a leg so there’s space for him. while your hands are pushing at his shoulders, desperately wanting to uphold your pride of ignoring him, you know the cool air against your cunt and the sight of fushiguro toji on his knees is only making you wetter.
and toji just smirks, looking up at you like his revered deity and you jump again at his cold hands prying your thighs apart, bringing a leg to rest on his shoulder. toji looks in love with your pussy, seeing your hole clench around nothing as your eyes beg for him to do something, anything, but he only continues to tease, running his thumbs along your folds and just missing your clit.
“use your words, sweetheart.”
“need…” toji raises an eyebrow, cheek leaning casually against your thigh and he grins as he sees you fight your own pride like you don’t want his tongue and fingers on you. give it a little more and you’ll break, because through the silence of your shared home and your heavy breathing, the tension is so infuriating that you’re willing to push away that stupid game of charades to the back of your brain.
you hate how needy you sound, though. “i need your tongue… p-please, baby,” you plead and drag out the name, and in the stuffiness of the kitchen, you think toji, one of the strongest men you know, looks the fucking best when he’s smiling up at you with a wanton want behind his eyes. “wan’ you, toji, wan’ you to eat me out!”
“oh… of course, when you beg like that,” toji plants a kiss to your puffy clit and the simple gesture makes you whine, “how could i say no to my pretty baby?”
toji delves in like he’s never eaten before, licking a thick stripe up your pussy to collect your slick before lapping at your clit, garnering a loud moan that reverberates throughout the house. you wish you never called him out on his terrible acting skills from the start, one hand keeping your balance while the other tugs on his black hair. harder and harder.
toji groans at your impatience as he feels you spread your legs further, moans and whimpers filling his ears. one hand sneaks under his shirt and squeezes at your tits, the other hugging you closer to him, fondling your ass at the same time. your boyfriend takes in everything, from your pleasured expression to your contracting tummy and he can feel himself harden below him.
but you come first, you always come first and he makes it clear when he halts for a second and you whine at the lack of contact. “eyes here, baby.” toji calls out to you, slapping your cunt and you jolt at the feeling, although it’s not entirely unpleasant; your eyes flit down to him. the other grins again and slaps your pussy a few more times, the wetness of your sex making loud, obscene noises, “tell me how good i’m making you feel, yeah?”
you mewl as you nod as his fingers prod at your hole and you swear the sudden intrusion has your stomach turning. you’re clamping down on his fingers which sets a pace, buried right up to the ends of his fingers as his palm collects your slick. your lover continues to abuse your clit, alternating between flicking his tongue and sucking.
“o-ooh, shit! they’re so deep, tojiii!” the moans you let out were almost pornographic, breathless and needy with how good he was giving it to you, the familiar feeling of an orgasm creeping up on you. his fingers keep a constant pace, stretching you out so well and the roughness of them feel so contrasting on your body, but you love it. “toji, i— fuck, i’m c-close!”
“taste so good, doll. c’mon, cum on my tongue.” the older man is ruined too, the heat of the kitchen getting to him with how the strands of his hair stick to his forehead, but more than that, he’s grinding into thin air, wanting any sort of relief for his hardening cock. “you taste like heaven, oh shit...”
“t-toji— i’m! oh, fuck, fuck fuck—!” it’s not long before you’re unravelling in his hold, legs trembling and incoherent babbles spilling from your lips as toji licks up your release leaving from your dripping, tight hole, sure to lap up every last drop. his emerald eyes hold yours as he cleans you up, body still twitching and shivering from the mind-blowing orgasm before he stands and removes his fingers, holding it to your lips.
“suck.” and you do, keeping eye contact as you wrap your tongue around him like you would to his cock, free hand already making pulling down his sweatpants that has a little pre-cum leaking through it.
“up you go, darling,” toji mumbles, plopping you onto the counter with ease, and because he’s so tall, his pelvis perfectly lines up with yours. it’s probably also because you envisioned this happening, though, that you made sure to pick out a kitchen countertop with the proper height. he slaps the tip of his cock on your glistening pussy, an angry red from being neglected, groaning as your arousal provides lube with no problem.
“just so you know, i’m buying you more of those stupid shorts,” toji confesses before he pushes past your entrance, tip already stretching you so well that you laugh and moan at the same time, arms flying to encircle his neck to feel him closer. “f-fuck, baby… so tight, just for me…”
“’s all yours, toji,” you whimper softly, an unspoken look in your eyes that just says that i’m yours for you to use, “this pussy’s all y-yours— mmf—”
by then, he’s bottomed out, taking his time in filling you up inch by inch and your submission is reason enough for him to start rocking into you, hips faltering just a little by how warm and snug you felt that it has toji catching his breath. but he doesn’t hold back once you’re comfortable, bullying his cock into you at a faster pace into your pussy that sucks him in so well with each thrust.
“your tight, little pussy’s g’na make me cum faster than usual, pretty,” toji says with a breathless laugh, mouth tasting the sweat that lines your body as he kisses your neck.
“that’s— okay,” you choke out, pulling him away from the embrace and the sight that greets you takes your breath away. dark, lustful eyes trained on you and a stunning smile to match; you see your lover’s eyes soften ever so slightly when he hits that sweet spot in you, “i’ll take all— fuck- all of your cum, okay?”
and toji almost cums at that moment but he knows if he looks at you any longer and how your tongue lols out at how his cock fits so well in you, he just might; so he just settles for frantic nods, and nudges your head down to look at how his length moves in and out of you. your slick and his pre-cum is leaking all over the counter, squelching noises filling the kitchen. “look at how well you take me. good fuckin’ girl is what you are.”
you giggle at the praise because you know toji means every word, but your moans take over soon. there’s the twist of your core, that edging feeling that toji’s drawing out of you so well — it doesn’t help how he brings a hand to your clit, rubbing circles that you’re close, so close.
“toji, toji, toji—” chanting out his name is all you can do when you’re fucked silly, spilling over unexpectedly as you clamp down hard on his cock. toji groans when he feels you spasm over his length, hips not stopping even after you ride out your orgasm. you’re cumming so much that his stomach is wet, too, the pap! pap! pap! of his pelvis against your pussy sounding so filthy.
your babbles converge into three words, mumbling out i love yous to the older man and soon toji cums as well, swallowing your tearful confessions with a sloppy kiss and he’s releasing deep inside you. he can feel your mewls through the kiss, no doubt loving how his thick cum is spilling into you. his seed is hot, leaking from his tip in ropes and ropes until you’re filled to the brim and you sigh, content with how it feels in you.
your lazed hums make him chuckle, kissing you again and softer this time. “my baby, my sweet baby,” toji makes sure to wipe your eyes after, and mutters apologies against your forehead for the dinner turning cold, but when he sees you and your languid smile, he knows you don’t mind.
thirsts and drabble requests are open!
#anon#asks#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen fluff#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen gojo#jjk x reader#jjk smut#jjk headcanons#jjk fluff#jjk toji#toji x reader#toji smut#toji imagine#toji fushiguro#fushiguro toji x reader#fushiguro toji smut#toji fushiguro smut#toji hcs#jjk drabbles#jjk fanfic#jujutsu kaisen toji#toji zenin
5K notes
·
View notes
Text
DOWNFALL
you just wanted more budget for the soccer team. unbeknownst to you, karina wanted more. and before you know it, you were both knee-deep in a dangerous game of sweet lies and bitter emotions.
TAGS: enemies to less than enemies lovers. 3.2k words. thick juicy sexual tension. slight smut at the end.
WARNINGS: manipulation and sexual themes
the sea of students part as karina walks through. you follow her long graceful strides with your fast march.
“come on, karina. aren’t you supposed to be the president here?” you complained lowly in karina’s ear. people are already whispering because of the unusual sight of you and the student body president, you didn't dare attract more by arguing with her publicly.
“i am. that’s why you’ll regard me as president yoo.” karina replied without sparing a glance at you, her cold eyes trained forward.
“well then, president yoo. the soccer club needs more funds. as the captain, i’d like you to raise our budget just a teensy weensy more.”
this exact line has left your lips too many times these past few days. but who could blame you, the girl beside you refused over and over, leaving you no choice but to insist.
“how many times have i told you? we can't. the budget has already been decided so you’ll have to do with what you have.” you both reached an empty classroom and you closed the door behind you immediately.
“fuck that. we missed championship last time because of your shit budgeting. you think i’d stand for the same shit twice.” your hands flew up in the air in frustration, inhaling a deep breath. karina points her icy glares toward you, freezing you in place.
“if you think you can just get whatever you want, then you’re dead wrong. i’m not like my predecessors who bends to every single one of your whims.”
your brows furrow at her words. before you could reply, she had already opened her mouth.
“so i suggest you either give up or you find another way to get to championships.” with that, karina slams the door shut, leaving you fuming and glaring at her back.
karina knows you. she’d seen firsthand your effect on people. she’d watched you break peoples heart. she’d witnessed your charm work to the previous presidents. only to be reduced to tears when they realize they are but a means to an end.
in her eyes, you tarnished the student council’s reputation. they were branded as your puppets. one word from you, and the most respected students karina knew heeded. all because they found you endearing. oh, how it broke the ever so hard working girl.
but karina won’t turn out like them. she refused to be. in fact, she’s on a mission to get revenge. for her friends and for the council. a mission to restore the student council to its former glory and to destroy you.
this is either the stupidest idea you ever cooked or the cleverest.
the school parking lot was flocked with students despite the scorching weather. while cars of all shapes, color and sizes lodged aimlessly.
“everybody! thank you for coming today!” you shouted at the top of your car, holding a megaphone in one hand. “welcome to the soccer team’s sexy summer car wash! where we wash your car in ways both you and the car will enjoy!” cheers erupted through the crowd. you peer among the people gathered and you think just how much you’ve earned from the participation fee alone.
“let’s get this party started, shall we?” you put down the megaphone beside you. the crowd goes wild as you remove your shirt. your team members followed after. and the parking lot is in chaos.
the party is in full swing with more and more people appearing by the hour.
“i didn’t think washing cars would be this fun.” winter giggled beside you as you fill up buckets of water. it was safe to say winter liked the attention. after all, many are already lining up to take her home tonight.
“of course, when have i ever had a bad idea?” you grinned.
“every idea of yours is bad,” winter’s nose scrunch, remembering all those times you got the team in trouble. “speaking of, are you sure karina won’t just pop up suddenly? i mean look at how many people there is, she’s gonna find out.”
“then, let her. we’re students and this is our school.” you shrugged but both you and winter know it isn’t as simple as that. at least not when it comes to yoo jimin.
“she already thinks you’re the devil who have sex with everyone in exchange for favors. this would only make shit worse between the both of you.” winter’s words rang true to ears. unfortunately, you chose to be deaf to reason, too consumed by your hatred for the president to heed her advice.
“she can do whatever she wants and i could care less, winter.” if karina wants to paint you as the villain, so be it. those girls, her friends and the past council members, they slept with you willingly. they tried to give you what you want in hopes of winning your heart. but they didn't and so they wept.
“and would you really stop all this just because theres a chance little miss president will come?” at that, both you and winter come back to the heart of the mob.
the team didn’t really have to try to be suggestive or anything. walking around shirtless and flexing your muscles every now and then is enough for this sexy car wash to be sexy. after all, who wouldn’t be satisfied with sweaty six pack abs.
you were washing the hood of someones volvo while the owner was flirting with you.
suddenly you hear a murmur ripple through the crowd. you craned your neck to see the sea of people part.
a koenigsegg jesko pierced the population of teenagers. its engines roar over the hush whispers and its ivory skin reflecting the awe-struck faces of the students.
the luxurious car stopped behind you. everybody fell silent and you stood up, each one eager to know who is the driver.
the door opened and everybody broke out in gasps and distinct whispers. you looked at her with wide eyes as you stood frozen in place.
karina sauntered over to you. confidently and slowly, like she owned all the time in the world. strangely, there was no hint of anger in her gorgeous face. but her eyes held something you couldn’t fathom.
imaginary electricity prickle your skin. the air around you gets more charge every step she takes. you try to school your expression once more.
karina stopped in front of you.
“karina-” you started. but her gaze kept your mouth from saying anything further. she raises her hand and a slender finger met your lips delicately. “shush.”
you quietly observe as she face the car you were washing. she inspects it silently. she traced the hood with her fingers without a word. bubbles gathered at the tip of her fingers. she lifts her hand once more and in a blink of an eye she flicked it over to you. the bubbles landing on your cheek.
“what the fuck?” before your hand can wipe your cheek, her hand stopped yours. the other landed on your cheek gently. you feel your throat get clogged up as your wide eyes meet her brown ones.
you inhaled sharply, shakily as she moved her thumb to remove the white foam. her face closer to yours than before, giving you the chance to admire her features. it was nothing short of perfection.
although you were more than certain the foam had long since left you face, her soft hands stayed perched on your face.
“what are you playing here, karina?” you growled lowly. karina smirks at your frustration. how entertaining to see you crumble.
she leaned impossibly closer. expensive perfume invaded your senses. your eyes closed for a second as you gulped. “you forget. this is my parking lot you’re standing on.”
“we’re students here, we’re allowed to use this space.” as if coming back to your senses, your back straightened as your hand flew to her waist. her smile faltered for a blink of an eye but you caught it. and your lips widened at the sight.
“my, why are you so defensive?” she giggled beside your hear. melodious as it sent your bare spine shivering. if that wasn’t enough, she brought her other hand to your abdomen. “i’m not here to stop your fun. i just dropped by to say hi to my favorite student.”
her body pressed against yours. so close, you can feel her ample chest. should your hands go any lower, it would meet her ass.
“what are you playing here, karina?” you ask one more time.
“i’m playing your game. so try not to lose,” each word left her mouth with diction and it registered onto your brain slowly. just as you were about to make a comeback, her lips planted a kiss onto your ear. you feel your body go red, your mind on haywire.
and when her spell has left your system, she was already in her car revving her engine.
the student body president had declared war. and so far, she’s winning.
“watch me get the highest bid. everybody wants a piece of this, no doubt.” giselle twirled, showing off her curves.
“i doubt anyone would even bid at you. they’ll be too busy putting their money on this.” kazuha replied, flexing her muscles.
everybody lined up back stage for the team’s charity dating. in truth, you’ve raised more than enough money for the team. however, you wouldn’t let the threat by the name of yoo jimin pass so easily. and everybody knows when you cross y/n l/n, you cross the whole soccer team.
so you made the perfect stage of revenge for your humiliation. that little scene from the car wash spread like wildfire, everyone who had a mouth were talking about it. good and bad.
“thanks. i owe you and the team.” you pat winter who is fixing her makeup in front of you. you were the last ones in the line.
“what do you mean? this would’ve happened sooner or later, with or without intervention from miss president.” winter laughed. she put down her mirror and turned her body towards you.
“it’s already too late to talk you down whatever insane plan you come up with. so i wish you luck instead” she smiled at you. winter already knew it will work, there wasn’t a time it didn’t. *captain never fails*, that’s the line the team holds onto.
then you heard her name get called on stage. not soon later, loud chants filled your ears.
and you were left with your own thoughts.
you knew karina was somewhere among the crowd. she’d bid for you until she wins. the night starts with the two of you. and that’s where your game begins. your favorite game, the chasing game.
you’ve never lost at this game. and you have no plans to.
“please welcome! consecutive season MVP for three years and of course captain of the soccer team, y/n l/n” the crowd roared your name. it echoes throughout the whole venue. adrenaline pumps throughout your body.
you smile and the crowd goes wild. “okay. we’re starting off 70K WON.” not a bad start, your pride tells you.
“120K WON.” could be better. your eyes scan the crowd. a woman like karina wouldn’t be hard to miss. no matter how many people are here.
“500K WON.” a gentle voice spoke up. everybody turned turned their heads towards the source. a woman holding the number “7” with a gloved hand.
there she is. sitting elegantly, dressed in white that shows of her milky shoulders. her hair down, her eyes piercing and her lips painted red. she looked ethereal just by sitting in a chair.
the crowd murmured as they watch karina throw the highest bid of the night. you were sure another wildfire had just been brought to life.
“going, sold! a date with miss l/n for 500K WON” the announcer clapped and the audience followed.
“well, folks. this officially ends the soccer team’s charity dating. thank you for coming. for those who won a date, enjoy. for those who didn’t, there are other ways and many more chances.”
you walk down the stage to where karina is standing. she patiently waits for you to reach her, eyes never leaving your figure.
“you must like crashing our parties.” you greet. you both know there’s no need to be hostile, for now at least.
“of course. like i would pass up the chance to see your miserable face.” she links your arms together. you hummed in response. “let me buy you a drink then. for bidding 500K WON for this miserable face.”
you let her guide you to the bar where she orders an expensive drink. figuring you wouldn’t be able to go through the night this sober, you settle for a beer.
“barbaric. just like how i imagined you.” she huffs through her nose. what a priss you thought.
“its a classic” you correct.
the bartender passes you the bar. without missing a beat, you drink some and leave some on your mouth. then, you press your lips to karina and passes the beer to her mouth.
the president makes a disgusted face that makes you chuckle. you see her throat bobbed up and down.
your eyes fly back to her face, “tastes better when its from my mouth, yeah?”
you invade her space until her familiar perfume invades your senses again. “you wanna play my game, karina? sure. i don’t mind.”
“but what i don’t understand is what you’re breaking your heart for?” you say like you already know she’s the one who’s going to end up in tears.
“break my own heart? as if you can get even close” she scoffs.
“because your friends cried over me? please, they knew what they were getting into. it was their fault for not paying attention enough.” you ignore her. and while your words ring true, she still felt anger bubbling in her chest.
“or is it because the past council treated me like a queen?” you look at her in the eyes and laugh lightly in disbelief. her brows furrow in a blink of an eye, but it was gone the moment it appeared.
“i didn’t tell them to do anything. everything they did, they did on their own accord. maybe that’s precisely why it pisses you.i just butter them up a little and suddenly all my wishes come true.”
you had struck a nerve. it was why she’s in this crusade to end you. she worked hard for her seat in the council, fought for her reputation and earned people’s respect. meanwhile, you didn’t do anything and people still kiss the ground you walk on.
people fail to see you. the true you. manipulative and toxic. only she does and it frustrates her.
“but that’s why i like you. while others were blind, you saw reason. they were too busy winning my favor but you were plotting my downfall.” you tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear.
suddenly, she grabbed you by your tie and crashes your lips together. her lips were soft as they looked. they contrast her aggressiveness. for a moment, both of you were list in your world full of hatred and anger for each other.
your teeth clashed and your tongues intertwine. when you pull away, a string of saliva connects both your lips.
karina takes your hand and lead you outside the venue where her expensive car is parked. both of you wastes no time getting in.
you don’t know how long the drive took but when you did arrive at her mansion, you were drowning in your own lust. in the blink of an eye, you were pinned in the door of her room.
your hands roam all over her, feeling every inch. her lips move from your lips to your jaw to your neck. while her hands reach lower and lower until she’s palming you. you throw your back.
“you think you’re so mighty.” she bites the skin beneath your ear.
“know what i like about being president?” she asks you even though shes aware you’re head is stuck in ecstasy to answer. “i get to put people like you in their place.”
karina rubs circles through your pants. your body burns at her touch, like there’s flames at her fingertips.
“why don’t i show you what your friends saw in me?”you breath out and she laughs at how stupid you sound. how could say that while you writhe under her fingertips.
“after all, you paid for a good time. let me show what your money is worth.” you you reach on to her back for the zipper of her dress. you pull it down, leaving her in her undergarments. your eyes feasts upon everything before you.
“like what you see?” she puts a finger on your chin, forcing your eyes to meet hers. she smirks before kissing you again, slowly this time. her hands quickly unbuttons your shirt and you shrugged it off, not breaking the kiss. you were about to remove your tie but she stops you. “keep it on.” she says firmly.
karina grabs you by the tie and pushes you onto her bed by your shoulders. she climbs onto top of your abdomen. her once more before she pulls away and puts hand on your chest to keep you down. with one hand, she takes off her bra. her boobs spilling for you too see. your eyes meet as her hands massages her voluptuous tits, moaning. she bit her lower lip and threw her head back, just to tease you.
unable to resist any longer, your hands reach out to touch. but her hands were faster, she removes the tie around your neck and binds your hands. “you can touch next time.”
“right now. all of you is mine.” her lips attack your neck until they’re red and purple. hands explore your body until they stop at your chest. squeezing them before removing your bra. her lips move onto them next. she pinched, sucked and you ached for more.
next, she removes your pants and your panties, leaving you bare before her. she admires and for the first time you feel your face flare from someone looking at your body.
as if testing the waters, she puts her knees between your thighs and raises them until her knees barely touch your bare core. “fuck.” you let out a breath.
“don’t worry. i won’t make you beg.” this time, the unsaid words hang on her tongue.
“i’ll give you everything you want tonight. until you’re too drunk to remember anything else but me.” your breath hitch as her hands rub circles on your thighs.
‘by the end of the night, you’re going to be wrapped around my finger’ the thought makes karina smirk.
she gives you one last kiss before diving down, disappearing between your thighs.
#aespa x reader#aespa x you#aespa imagine#aespa imagines#karina x reader#karina x you#karina imagines#karina imagine#yoo jimin#yoo jimin x reader
623 notes
·
View notes
Text
“Ah ah… What did you say ?”
Alastor x reader
Warning : NSFW, Dacryphilia, Dark Themes, cannibalism, Alastor is a Warning himself. English is not my first language. I’m bad at writing synopsis. I’m bad at writing in general in fact.
Synopsis : Innocent reader tries to make a deal with Vox in order to protect herself from Alastor.
Other : Lovely ; Alastor x reader
(Sorry for the long delay, college is kicking my ass)
————————————————————————
It’s been a week since the incident with Alastor happened, he hadn’t touched you since or even come your way.
Though you still tried to avoid him like the plague, every time you saw him, around the corner, in the living room, anywhere, you just quickly run away for dear life.
You were scared, what if this time he eats you for good ? What if he does the same thing he did last time and then proceed to eat you at the same ? You were getting paranoid at this point.
Seeing your small figure scare away from him like the pretty prey that you are made him grin even wider. He was clearly enjoying this, enjoying you, at first he hated that he lost control to a miserable thing like you, but as time passes the idea of a plaything didn’t seem to bother him anymore, especially when he was this hungry.
You've tried to forget what happened, you've really tried, but every night when you're alone in bed, you can't help yourself.
The pulsating feeling between your legs won’t stop, oh poor you, it gets even worse when the image of his head between your legs becomes clearer, his tongue unashamedly licking the most intimate part of your body, making a mess of himself with your juices as they drip from your sensitive pussy while you moan and whimper.
An innocent thing like you can’t even understand why you are feeling like this.
You rub your thighs to cease the sensation the same sensation you felt when he did this forbidden thing to you but it doesn’t work, you keep whining until you finally fell asleep.
You had to find a solution and quick, you don’t know when he’s going to jump on you again and this time eat you for good.
So Here you were, in front of the building of nonetheless than the Vees. It was a dumb idea let’s be honest here. Each step you take to get closer to the doors makes your heart beats faster. Making a deal with Vox must be better than being killed by Alastor right ? Right ?
_
“You want me to do what now ?”
The man in front of you, with a flat-screen TV for a face, looked at you as if you'd said the stupidest thing in the world.
“Why would I make a deal with an employee of this stupid fucking hotel huh ?”
You swallow nervously at his answer, playing with your fingers as you try to avoid his piercing gaze.
“I-I need to make a deal with you because I heard you are the only one who is as strong as Alastor-“
Vox smiles widen as he seems to like the compliment, “Ahah. Go on, continue I don’t have the whole fucking day” he says tapping against his office table.
You then proceed to explain, trying to avoid some of the… more embarrassing details.
he begins to laugh… laugh ? Why is he laughing ?
“You’re telling me that you are the new toy of Alastor”
He pauses for a second smiling devilishly while looking at you from head to toe
“You know what I’ll make deal with you, stealing Alastor fucking food is much more fun I can’t wait to see the face of this old prick when-”
His TV face starts to vibrate, you could see it was one of the other Vees calling. He puts the call in one of his other TV.
“Hello there, Velvet. How are you this Hellish morning”, in stark contrast to Vox lively greeting, Velvet response was one of pure annoyance.
“Cut the shit vox, i need you up here NOW. Your little boy toy is wracking my department while I tried to put together a show !”
Other voices could be heard behind her notably Valentino’s who was cursing around, yelling and destroying the entire department. Velvet ends the call without giving Vox any chance to say something.
Vox’s smiling face drops, he lets out a loud sigh.
“Here I was.. excited for something… anyway come this afternoon, so we can finalize our deal, I have a fire to put out upstairs”
With that, you leave the building, and quickly go back to the hotel avoiding the sinners running around and killing each other.
-
You open the doors, but it's strangely quiet - maybe they've gone out, you wonder. You climb the stairs back to your room, but when you finally reach the corridor, you suddenly hear a static sound.
“Are you still going to avoid me hmm ?”
You hear that familiar voice, filtered through the radio, with that all-too-familiar smile. He appeared right in front of you. You flinch and take a few steps back, your legs ready to run in the opposite direction.
He chuckles, his smile widening, awnnn how cute, you're still this scared of him.
“Now now don’t be scared, I just want to have a little chat with you” he says while turning around. Alastor was now walking towards your room Insinuating you to follow him.
“N-no ! I’m not going to, you should stay away from me, I made a deal with Vox !”
As those words settles in, the corridor seemed to shrink, suffocating you in a claustrophobic embrace.
The lights starts to flicker casting grotesque shadows on the peeling wallpaper.
A sudden chill permeated the air, causing goosebumps to rise on your already trembling skin.
“Haha.. What did you say ?” His voice took on a deeper timbre through his radio filter.
An oppressive weight settled over the corridor, squeezing the breath from your lungs and filling your minds with irrational fear.
He turns to you, his predatory eyes shining through the flickering lights. Each step seemed to echo with ominous intent while he grew taller and taller and his antlers increased in size.
"Do you really think he can keep me away from you? I don't think you really understand the situation you're in, my dear… You're my plaything, my prey and my meal. If you utter those stupid words again... I'll end Vox's life and broadcast his screams for every disrespectful wreck who dares to take what's MINE”
You were on the floor, you shaky legs were to weak to stand on their own, while Alastor’s glowing eyes pierced through your soul.
"Have I made myself clear?" He asks, leaning slightly so that his face is close to yours. You nod, lips pressed together, too scared to speak.
He tilted his head, his eyes softened, but the smirk that played on his lips refused to yield, a silent mockery that belied his gentle gaze.
In stark contrast to the anger that had consumed him mere moments ago, his voice now returned to its normal tone as he uttered the words “good girl” while petting your head.
The transition was jarring, as if a storm had suddenly given way to a calm, clear sky, leaving those around him bewildered by the sudden shift in his demeanor.
He straighten up and turns his back to you “Come now, I don’t know for you my dear but all that action has worked up quite an appetite, I'm absolutely famished !” he chuckles darkly as he starts walking towards your room.
He didn't give you time to get up, as one of his tentacles wrapped itself around your waist forcefully.
-
Next thing you know, Alastor was sitting at the edge of your bed, you straddling his lap facing him, with only your bra and skirt remaining still while your shirt was torn on the floor.
“You are terrible liar” Alastor force you to look at his smirking face.
“You didn’t make any deal .. yet” as he states those words without any warning he bites your neck, you let out a cry of surprise, you tried to get away, pushing him away in vain, he had one firm hand placed on your hips his claws digging in harder and harder each time you moved. Ironically his other hand holds yours in a romantic embrace, your fingers intertwined to his.
“Stay still, or I will devour you. You have no idea how much I’m restraining myself right now little one”, he can't help it, it's been a week since he's tasted you, since he's bitten your pretty little body, everything about you drives him crazy, your smell ahh your smell.
He goes back to your neck this time nestling there, inhaling deeply and then proceed to lick the spot he bit earlier, licking up the blood, his tongue started to go down, until he reached your breasts still covered with your bra, he looks up at you, smirking.
You were a trembling mess, your emotions swirled like a tempest, fear tightening your chest with every breath, embarrassment flooding your cheeks with a telltale blush. Yet amidst the chaos, a stirring of arousal sent shivers along your back, a well too familiar feeling between your thighs started to show up much to your dismay.
His hand, which was on your hips moved with a slow, deliberate, grace, gradually tracing a path upwards, each caress sending shivers down your spine until it reached the delicate lace of your bra.
His eyes were still staring into yours, drinking in your every reaction as his claws ripped the clasp of your bra, freeing your breasts for his hungry eyes to see.
You tried to cover them with your hand but He withdraws it “a-a”, he says sarcastically before his tongue trace a sensual path along your neck, gradually venturing lower and lower, your breath came in shallow gaps, each inhalation tinged with anticipation.
He finally reaches your chest, his tongue tracing precise circles around your nipples, you try to stifle your moans with your hand, but he suddenly bites your breast, making you cry out his name as he chuckles.
He continues for a while without ever ceasing to lick and bite, his hand still intertwined with yours, as you keep whimpering.
He was getting excited each sounds that came out of your mouth made him feral making his antlers grow and his eyes took on a predatory gleam, a never stopping hunger.
Without Warning, he forcefully lifted you from his lap, abruptly changing position as he pushed you down onto the bed, he slid your legs up onto his shoulders, giving him access to your thighs which he didn’t wait a minute before biting on it much more harder this time making you yelp in pain.
You watch his shark like teeth digging into the flesh of your skin, eliciting a crimson flow that trickled down you thigh, his tongue darted out to lap at the blood pooling around the wound, hungrily savoring again the metallic tang of the fluid.
“P-Please stop” you begged, tears rolling down your cheeks. He ignores your plead instead he keeps going, biting your other thigh, licking it and then taking another bite, while he slowly gets closer to your cunt.
His fingers played with the edge of your damp panties, teasing you. Your pussy was dripping wet. Your scent was intoxicating, everything about you was intoxicating, the way he was ruining you, both physically and mentally turned him on even more.
He abruptly ripped out your panties, your pussy was now exposed to him, it took him a lot of restraint for him not to eat you right fucking now, just like before.
His index finger teased a delicate trail along your belly, he descended lower his nail traced a deliberate scratch along your skin, igniting a surge of desire that pulsed through your vein.
You weren’t supposed to feel like this, but instead of hating it, you were desperate, one part you wanted him to touch your pussy, make you feel the same feeling of just pure bliss, and the other part, fear just pure fear.
“P-Please don’t go any lower” you plead again each word punctuated by a stifled sob, but it was too late, the demon before you was too intoxicated by your scent, by your wetness, your whole body really.
Again your pretty little mind had no idea about the struggle he was going through right now, struggling to restrain his cannibalistic impulses, and hearing your cries wasn’t helping at all, in the contrary, he derived such pleasure from your tears.
The way your puffy eyes would look at him, lips cutely pressed together, face flushed ahhh don’t blame him for acting out while you look this delicious.
“I want your soul” the demon says, before his finger applied gently pressure to your sensitive button, making you gasp in pleasure, he stroked circular motions over your clit heightened the pace, while watching your face which was trying not to moan but failed miserably.
“Let’s make a deal”, you were surprised by his sudden request “w-what” you stutters out, is he really suggesting it now ? Like right now in the middle of that ?
You couldn’t think straight you were too absorb by the pleasure he was providing you, you shake your head no, which made him stopped his movements making you whine, you look up at him, with that desperate look on your face.
Suddenly, he thrusts two fingers inside you, causing you to let out a moan of surprise at the sudden intrusion.
Alastor didn’t like the way you reacted to his request and it showed, as he pushes his fingers in and out with a forceful intensity.
He easily found your sweet spot, not letting you the time to process anything, you were a moaning mess at this point, clutching the sheets, fingers digging into the fabric while you begged him to slow down it was all too much for you.
“I will take you under my wig, and in exchange your soul would be mine forever” he declares.
Oh how ironic was it ? The problem himself proposing you this offer, it’s not like this morning you were literally trying to find a solution to get away from him.
You couldn’t reply back, only moans came out of that pretty mouth of yours making him chuckle, the intense heat that was building inside you, ready to be released at any moment was making you dizzy.
And then
He stops
Completely
Leaving you in a state of desperate longing, denied the released you craved.
“A-Alastor” you keep whining, moving your hips desperately.
“Accept my deal… just let it go” you couldn’t resist anymore you needed this so badly, you finally nod which made Alastor’s smile became more sinister as he starts to push his fingers in and out again, each stroke hitting your sweet spot harder, his other free hand comes towards yours to take, “it’s a deal then ?”.
The atmosphere changed drastically, Alastor form was becoming more demonic but you couldn’t care less at this point fear already consumed you, you were too absorb on reaching your climax now.
You hold his hand, nodding eagerly, moaning out a yes, and that’s all he needed to hear. Before you know it a collar appeared around your neck its chain dangling freely for Alastor to hold, which he does.
His fingers was buried deep inside your pussy while his other hand grasped the chain of your collar, you were his now forever there’s no going back.
Your body quivered with anticipation as you were reaching you peak, your tried to speak but your words were incoherent, but Alastor knew what you were about to say.
He suddenly buried his face between your legs, his fingers remaining inside you pumping in and out rapidly, while his tongue was devouring your pussy as if each taste was his last.
Your arched your back and with a shuddering gasp your body convulsed letting waves of pleasure washing over you, your moans getting louder as you finally came.
Your juices were all over his mouth and fingers. He eagerly took all in swallowing it without hesitation, while you were laying there panting and whimpering trying to regain some sense.
Alastor straighten himself, pulling out his fingers and bringing it to his mouth to lick it clean while fixing you with an intense gaze.
After regaining some sort of composure, a flicker of realization crossed over your features “n-n-n-noo what have I done !”, your voice rise in panic as you seat up, which made Alastor laugh with mockery each chuckle making you realize even more in what situation you were in now.
You tried to get off the bed but the grip that had Alastor on the chain held you firmly in place.
“Oh my dear, but I’m not done yet” he says before slamming you back into the bed.
Indeed he wasn’t done yet.
———————————————————————
It’s 3 am and I hope what I wrote made sense
208 notes
·
View notes
Text
*my humble offering to @steddie-week (and the s4 anniversary!) | ao3 link here*
Like most bad ideas, it starts with a question. Eddie is sitting on the ground, messing with the laces on his sneakers. Tying, untying. Mindless shit.
Steve is taking up the whole damn park bench, practically laying on it. Hasn’t said a word in the last ten minutes.
And Eddie sort of hates the silence. Would like Silence to get decapitated with a chainsaw or something equally gruesome. Needs that particular volume to die the loudest death possible. For the sake of irony, of course.
So Eddie kills it - the silence, that is. The lull taking up all this air between him and Steve Harrington.
He kills it with a question:
“What’s the stupidest thing you’ve ever done?”
Steve’s head snaps in Eddie’s direction. “What did you say?”
“You heard me.”
“Fuck, I don’t know, man.” Steve sort of twitches, right between his eyebrows. Shoulders going lopsided, unnaturally angled. Uncomfortable.
Eddie shouldn’t be feeding off this tension so much. Judging by Steve’s body language though, the answer must be a good one.
He leans forward, almost singing the words. “You sure about that?”
Pushing is fun, darkly playful. Eddie enjoys getting under people’s skin, crawling around till they shrivel up. Is it wrong? Morally unethical? Well… the verdict is still out on that.
Besides, he’s been around Harrington enough lately to know that it doesn’t take much to make him surrender.
“Fine.” Steve huffs. He lifts himself to a sitting position, knees bobbing up and down. It takes all of Eddie’s leftover energy to not gloat about how easy that was - how quickly Steve caved. Teasing can (will) come later - right now, he wants answers.
Secrets.
“So, Robin and I went to this party in the city… got pretty shitfaced.”
Eddie throws his head back. “Lame.”
“Story’s not over.”
Oh? Interesting. Eddie places his hand over his heart, then waves it back at Steve. “My sincere apologies. Continue.”
Steve rolls his eyes, clears his throat (not that he needed to but whatever). “Anyways, she somehow convinced me to go to this tattoo parlor with her. Said her friend worked there and she wanted to visit them, so-”
“Wait wait wait. Don’t tell me this story ends with you getting a butterfly tattoo on your lower back.”
“Will you stop interrupting?”
There’s this serious expression in Steve’s eyes. A combination of dark colors and pure annoyance. Eddie is sane enough to know that annoyance isn’t something he should find endearing, but he does. On Steve.
Just a little.
He shrugs, and Steve continues. “Well, it turns out her friend wasn’t working that night. But the piercing lady was working and was like… superpersuasive.”
“Look, Munson, I don’t remember many details after that. Like I said, totally shitfaced. I just know when Robin and I woke up the next morning, we were so fucking sore. And not like, hangover sore either. We were sore in the same exact place. Right here.”
Steve’s pointer finger is gesturing at his stomach. Right in the center.
No. Absolutely not. Either Steve had severe stomach pains that night, or he’s suggesting that…
No.
“Yeah. There you have it.” Steve says. Blankly nodding into space. “Stupidest thing I’ve ever done is get a matching belly button piercing with my best friend. Jesus christ, that’s freaky to say out loud.”
The Silence sneaks up on him. Stabs Eddie in the back when he isn’t looking because he’s too busy trying to imagine Steve Harrington with a piercing of any kind. Let alone the most famously slutty kind.
Wrong, so very wrong. He should never let the words slutty and piercing clutter up his imagination while thinking about Steve. The silence has been too long now. Gotta say something, anything.
“Bullshit.” His tone is harsh. Doesn’t mean for it to be. “There’s no fucking way.”
Steve pouts, crinkles his forehead. “I swear on my car - I’m not making this up.”
And see, here’s where the bad idea comes in. This stormcloud of pouting and piercings and chest hair, it’s all becoming dangerous. That urge to provoke is in Eddie’s bloodstream. He has to tip the scale, twist the knife of chaos as far as he can. Self control is out the fucking window.
“Prove it then.”
“Fuck off, Munson.” Steve laughs, maybe scoffs. Either reaction is a little confusing. “Seriously, this isn’t truth or dare.”
The truth is already out though. It’s the dare that Eddie is hungry for. “You can’t just drop a nuclear statement like that and expect me not to ask to see it.”
“Technically, you didn’t ask.”
Eddie clamors over to Steve, all theatrics and fake agony. “Please, Lord Harrington.” He clasps both hands together, rests his cheek on Steve’s knee. Batting his eyelashes till Steve cracks a smile. “Let me see the metal that has punctured thy skin. I beg of thee.”
Steve shoves him off. “You’re such a dork.” It’s lighthearted, barely qualifies as shoving. He’s become way too decent for actual aggression these days.
A fact Eddie tirelessly clings to when Steve stands up. Lifts the bottom of his shirt and puts it in his fucking mouth.
“Holy shit.” Eddie mutters. No time to consider how pathetic it comes across.
In theory, this should all be stupidly unattractive. The way Steve holds his shirt between his teeth. The way he mumbles incoherent shit between the fabric in his mouth. The way he keeps pointing at it, poking it.
That shiny, teardrop-shaped metal. Just… hanging from Steve’s belly button, swinging slightly with every small movement. Eddie’s eyes start to swing with it, back and forth. Back and forth. Maybe those roadside hypnotists are onto something, because the dumbest piece of jewelry has Eddie captivated.
He could just be captivated by the guy attached to the dumbest piece of jewelry. Piercing.
Jesus Christ. Eddie really didn’t think his life could get any weirder. But here he is. Staring at Steve Harrington’s belly button piercing. Fucking mouth-breathing at the sight of it. Probably seconds away from salivating.
He really should consider seeing a licensed psychologist. Fix his terminally horned-up brain once and for all.
“It’s…” Eddie swallows, his eyelids feel heavier than his stare. “Not what I expected.”
The fabric drops from Steve’s mouth. Unevenly falls around his waist... hips. “What were you expecting?”
To laugh. To mock. Threaten blackmail for six lifetimes, maybe more.
Instead, Eddie gazing at it the way people gaze through telescopes. He peers lower, tries to see if it’s silver or gold. Hard to tell at sunset. None of Eddie’s typical instincts are sinking in. All he wants is to feel the metal rolling over his tongue or get it trapped between his teeth. See how it tastes mixed up with Steve’s skin.
“Fuck.” Yikes. Eddie didn’t mean to say that out loud. Straightens up from his questionable position, does it so fast that his spine sounds like bubble wrap. “Sorry, sorry.”
What the hell is he apologizing for? Cussing? Having a skeletal structure? Christ almighty, he’s a mess.
Steve’s lips spread into a grin, doesn’t look like his own. Looks more like the kind Eddie might give after pulling off a successful decoy in one of his campaigns. “What’s wrong with your face, man?”
“My face?”
“It’s all…” Steve trails off. Sighs and sits back down on the bench. “Nevermind.”
Eddie reaches up to his cheek, understands exactly what Steve is referring to. He feels feverish to the touch, must be a shade of red that is so deep, it’s noticeable in the darkening sky.
“Sorry… sorry.” Steve hangs his head. Seems troubled even though Eddie is nailing that particular routine all on his own.
“Think that’s my line.” Eddie jokes.
“Right.”
Silence is lurking around them yet again. Eddie hates it, but he’s running out of steam here. The embarrassment is on display, his cheeks and neck covered in splotchy red patches. His voice is higher, somehow, as if his vocal chords are shrinking. He’s undergoing a crisis and crush simultaneously and it is not an attractive look for him.
“Just go ahead and get it over with.” Steve says. Interrupts whatever cynicism that’s currently brewing in Eddie's head.
“Get what over with?”
“The teasing.”
“Oh that’s not… it’s um… you don’t…” Eddie can’t pick an appropriate response. They’re way beyond politeness and niceties. And any bullshit he tries to pull isn't gonna be convincing. So it’s best to stay honest. Embarrassing, but honest. “I think it looks pretty good.”
“You do?” Steve looks softer.
“Yeah. I mean… Bowie probably has one, and he’s a fucking superstar so. Uh. Yeah.”
“Bowie, huh?”
“I like Bowie.” I like Bowie? What a beefhead answer. Eddie joins Steve on the bench, hopes it distracts from that very un-cool line.
“I like Bowie too.” Steve messes with his hair a bit. Elbows Eddie in the side and chuckles. “You should get one.”
“A piercing?”
“Yeah.”
“Don’t hold your breath, man. I’m not letting that nightmare creator you described anywhere near my lower abdomen. Not gonna happen.”
Steve reaches out, runs his knuckles down the bridge of Eddie’s nose. Stops at the crease of his nostril. “What about one right here?” His voice is even, calm. Too calm for what he’s asking.
His hand is warm, slightly calloused. The only two thoughts Eddie can process without going fully catatonic. Steve’s hand is on his face and it’s warm.
Slightly calloused.
“Uh. Dunno.” Eddie says. A hoarse whisper in reply. “Probably not.”
Steve scoots in closer, never taking his hand off Eddie’s face. Just moving it around. Exploring. He brushes along to Eddie’s ear this time. Holds the edge of it between his thumb and index finger, looking straight at it.
“What about right here?” Steve’s eyes stay fixed on Eddie’s ear. Every touch seems natural, just questions that involve connection or something.
Internally, Eddie is dousing flames. Fanning them left and right. Running in circles, fucking clueless on how to properly calm down. Be civil. Be Dude Civil. His breathing is so rapid, he knows it. Can hear it between them, collecting space. Decides it would be best to mimic Steve. Fix his eyes only on him, borrow the stability as much as possible.
“Mmm… maybe.” Eddie gets stuck on the ‘mmm’ sound. That’s how good it feels having someone touch him like this. Careful, yet heavy in curiosity. Rolling the tip of his earlobe between two fingers, just enough pressure to create heat.
It warrants that sound.
Steve’s glance drifts before his fingers do. Eyes landing on Eddie’s lips, slight hesitancy before his hand follows. Eddie has to hold his breath now. Minimal oxygen is the only way he’ll survive this moment, which makes no fucking sense, but it does all the same.
“Here would look really good.” Steve slowly traces the curve of Eddie’s bottom lip with the pad of his thumb. The back and forth pattern is disarming. Makes Eddie’s lips part, mouth slightly open.
Just enough to speak. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
If Eddie passes out from lack of oxygen, he’ll regret it. He’ll regret not taking the risk, finishing what Steve has started. Because this surpasses friendly touching.
This is charged in electric shockwaves.
Eddie dips in, kisses Steve before he can move his hand out of the way. Steve makes a sound, not even a surprised one. It’s sweeter, laced in relief. Eddie pushes in, wants more, whatever he can get. Has his fingers wrapped around Steve’s wrist, the same hand that’s dragging down his face, his neck. Stopping at his chest.
Every rumor is true, that kissing Steve Harrington is like the gates of heaven opening up. That his tongue could work miracles on amateur lips with a few licks and curls. But no one ever told him about the noises he makes - and those are the best fucking part. Heaving breaths, pleased whines, each one captured with Eddie’s mouth before they get any louder.
Maybe that’s it. Maybe those are just for Eddie. Reserved for kissing him.
Goddamn, he’s delusional. Completely delirious from kissing a dude with a belly button piercing.
There’s a light getting brighter, almost approaching them. Eddie opens his eyes, quickly backs off while Steve does the same. Has to literally detachhimself from wherever his hand was busy wandering all over Steve’s body.
Headlights pull into the nearby parking lot. Eddie squints to get a better look at the car. It’s Robin and Vickie, showing up fashionably late as always. Sure, he’s grateful that it’s just them, the queerest people in his circle of weirdos. And while they’re reasonable people with shit like this, even they’dbe shocked to know that Eddie and Steve just sucked face for a solid three minutes. Probably best to not mention the gory details, not tonight. Eddie hopes Steve is thinking the same thing.
Both of them stand up, rearrange themselves to look presentable. Less tousled and kiss-bitten. Steve spends a few extra seconds with his hair before turning to Eddie, eyebrows high. Likely a non-verbal ask if his hair is looking as godly as ever.
Of course it does. Looks even better knowing Eddie’s nails were just digging into it.
Steve is a few steps ahead of Eddie, heading for the girls, when Eddie does it again. Kills the silence with a question.
“Can we… do this again?” It’s edging on desperate, he’s so fucking aware of that. Self control really proving to be a major downfall with him tonight. Should definitely consider taking classes, train his willpower or some shit.
Steve stops walking. He doesn’t turn around, doesn’t even look at Eddie as he speaks. “My place.”
Oh. That’s… wow. Unexpected. Eddie jogs up to Steve, beside him. Way too eager now, sort of buzzing for more information. Hints of excitement or maybe a smile. Anything, really. He’s at that level of weak for this guy.
Steve just keeps walking, but leans in, right next to Eddie’s ear. The same one he messed with earlier. His voice is quiet, but Eddie hears every damn syllable:
“I’ll leave the window unlatched for you.”
For him.
Maybe Eddie isn’t completely delusional after all.
#steddie#steddie fic#steddieweek2023#day six: true#truly truly dumb and fun#major himbo and major himbo-enjoyer#was this an excuse to cause chaotic piercing headcanons? always.#okayokay I hope you like Eddie drooling over Steve on this fine Saturday afternoon xx#*bows and scurries back off into my writing corner*
776 notes
·
View notes
Text
much ado about nothing chapter 7 - plug!eren x reader - 18+!!!
DISCLAIMER: this post contains MATURE CONTENT that is intended only for those over 18. minors and ageless blogs, please do not read below the cut.
okay so i guess the responses i got on my "i have writer's block wahhh" post worked because GUESS WHAT I FINISHED THIS MORNING. this chapter!!! i have been aching to share this (even when it was half-done), i literally cannot wait any longer. this is an eren pov chapter so you guys already know it's going to be fun. lots going on, and please don't hate me for the end, i promise there's a master plan in place!!! i hope you guys enjoy :-)
specific cws: smut, rough sex, use of names (both endearing and derogatory so take that as you will), drinking, swearing, i want to give eren a giant hug
-
“Love sought is good; but given unsought, is better.” - Twelfth Night by William Shakespeare (Act III, Scene 1)
Eren has no excuse for any of it. No excuse for stepping in, for throwing Floch against the bar. He knows you, knows you have enough experience with awful men to know how to handle yourself. He just couldn’t help himself.
And now he’s gone and acted out again without thinking. The cold winter air sobers him up, brings Eren back to himself, and when he looks down at you, all cute and furious with him, the heat in Eren’s veins dies. A pregnant pause stretches between you both, you with your arms crossed and glaring up at him, and Eren, surely with hearts in his eyes, looking down at you, something apologetic beginning to write its way into his features.
“What the fuck is your problem?”
Well, so much for that. The venom in your voice reignites Eren’s temper, fans the flames back into a full-blown inferno.
“My problem?” Eren growls, stepping closer to you. “What the fuck is your problem? I was just getting that prick out of your face. I’d think I deserve a thank you more than anything.”
“It wasn’t your place,” you huff.
“My place?” Eren nearly shouts, exasperated. “You’re the one who wanted to be friends so badly, was I supposed to just sit back and watch while he drooled all over you? Give me a fucking break.”
“That’s not– ugh, you’re really fucking frustrating, you know that Eren?”
It’s like watching all the ghosts of his past jump out at him through your teeth; Eren flinches, feels his fury rushing in his ears like a tidal wave.
“I’m–? Fine, fine, yeah, I’m the frustrating one. Definitely not you, throwing a goddamn temper tantrum over the stupidest shit imaginable, makes perfect sense. Really putting that smart little head to use, aren’t you?”
“Oh? ‘My girl’?” As soon as the words hit him, plunging through his chest like daggers, Eren’s blood runs cold. So you had caught his little slip-up. “What the fuck was that, then?”
Eren stutters, words caught in his throat at the worst possible moment. “Y-you know, like my girl, like you’re my friend or whatever.”
“Uh-huh,” you eye him disbelievingly, “you may as well have hiked your leg up and pissed on me in front of him. Am I supposed to be your fucking property or something because we had sex? Is that it?”
“What? No, I–” you’re faster than him, cutting him off.
“Don’t you already have your hands full with your ex?”
That crosses a line, pushes your fight into an entirely new territory. Eren’s eyes narrow. “Are you really bringing up Breeze right now? Like she…Jesus, like she even fucking matters?”
He watches the way you flinch when he says her name, the way your eyes widen, something he hadn’t expected out of you after with your little snide comments today. Interesting.
“She doesn’t matter to me, but I know she matters to you. As your friend, I’m just letting you know it sounds like a bad idea.”
“What’s a bad idea?”
“Getting back together with her,” you say, like it should be obvious.
It hits Eren like a truck; so that’s what’s gotten into you? You think he’s getting back together with Breeze, as if you didn’t text your ex that you were “totally in love with” on that godforsaken night at Paradise? Eren can still hear the slur of your words in that maddeningly confusing voicemail.
“Even if I was getting back with Breeze,” Eren snorts at the very idea, “which I’m not–”
“Oh yeah?” you counter, stepping forward to nearly touch your chin to his chest with how severely your head’s tilted up at him, “never took you for a liar, Eren.”
“A liar? When did I fucking–”
“Sasha saw you two at 104 the other day. You’re not fucking slick, you know.” Eren hates that tone in your voice, smug and wounded all at once. He wants to tear his own hair out.
“Oh, so you just know everything, don’t you?” Eren’s voice is shaking under his efforts to keep it at a low volume, keep you with him outside of your little bar and just make you listen to him. He watches your posture change ever so slightly, a shoulder turning towards him. “I was telling her to leave me the fuck alone.”
“Over coffee?” Your voice is still clipped, snarky. “Sure, Eren.”
Eren tries to keep himself in line, but his temper gets the better of him yet again, shooting out sharp and lethal. “Isn’t it a little hypocritical of you to avoid me over that, when it’s really you that’s getting back with your ex?”
Your eyes shoot open, and you spin on your heel to fully face him. “What?”
“You think I didn’t listen to your little voicemail?” Eren seethes, the full-bodied ugliness of his anger warping his face into a scowl. You don’t deserve the brunt of his temper, he knows you don’t, but he’s failing at every turn to reign himself in.
“You can’t throw that in my fucking face, I don’t even remember it,” you cut him off, eyes narrowed into little slits.
Eren freezes in place. The world around him seems to slow; the only thing tethering him to this plane is the way you’re looking up at him, furious and beautiful in the buzzing neons of Scout’s. He knew you’d been drunk, but not that drunk.
Hey, Eren– fuck, Stor, leave me alone! I’m just gonna talk to him really fast! Sorry, Historia’s all over me because I did something bad. I– I texted my ex, Luke. I never told you about him because he’s like, the worst, you’d hate him. But the funny thing is, I don’t even think I care? Maybe I do because I really was like, totally in love with him. Maybe he’ll text me back and we’ll fall in love again. But…I don’t know, Eren. I think about you all the time. I think I…I think I like you. Not like a friend, more than that. Wait, fuck, can I delete this? Just…I don’t know. Call me tomorrow or something. I want to talk about it before I can go down the black hole of Luke all over again. I know it’s not what you expected, and maybe you don’t feel the same, but…maybe we can just– shit, Historia, don’t hang up the–!
“Whatever I said was bullshit, I didn’t mean a word of it. I’m not getting back with my ex, or whatever else I came up with while I was blacked out.”
Your present-tense voice, affirmative and clear, snaps him out of his daze. I didn’t mean it. Every word of that voicemail that Eren knows so well, has basically memorized after listening to it day in and day out, trying to analyze every little drunken intonation of your voice– it was bullshit. Eren steels his jaw, musters up all the willpower he can dredge up in his body.
“You didn’t mean it,” his voice sounds alien as it leaves his mouth, distant.
“Yeah, exactly,” you’re mean, you’re so mean, not even stopping to acknowledge the sinkhole ripping open in Eren’s chest, “so before you rip me a new one, make sure that you’re not thinking about where you’d rather be right now.”
So you’re not just mean, you’re oblivious, it seems. For some reason, even through the shattering, crushing feeling erupting beneath Eren’s hoodie, it infuriates him. You just don’t see it, don’t see him. You didn’t mean a word you’d said to him in that damned voicemail, so he can’t tell you necessarily. It crosses his mind that maybe he can show you; the last dying ember of Eren’s rational line of thought sparks and spits at the idea in protest, but eventually chokes out, slowly dying in the tidal wave of emotion that takes him over.
“Oh, I don’t have anywhere else I’d rather be,” Eren's voice starts low and venomous, but it escalates with each passing word, “trust me, I showed up just aching to get into it with you. Just dying to have you rip me apart for something that I didn’t even fucking do!”
Not even a lie, honestly.
“You’re such an– ugh!” You shriek, digging the heels of your hands into your eyes.
“A what? Say it.”
“An asshole!”
“Is that what I am?” Eren’s backing you up against the bricks, making good use of his height to tower over you. Some sick part of him relishes in the way that, while your eyes remain blazing furiously enough to send a weaker man to his knees, your height difference forces you to cower under him. “An asshole?”
“Yeah,” you counter, glaring up at him defiantly, “you’re a fucking asshole, Eren.”
His proximity to you is making him dizzy and a little unhinged, and through the drinks and his anger and the mere inches between your heaving chests, Eren feels his blood start to run hot in an entirely different way. The leash he holds on his own temper, his own throat-closing desire, is dragging along the floor as he backs you fully against the wall, and Eren’s too wound up to bring himself to care.
“That’s not what you were calling me when I had my head between your legs, now is it?”
That shakes you, makes your jaw drop a little. Eren’s vaguely aware of your fingers twitching and clenching at your side, inwardly braces himself for a slap to the face. “Well, you weren’t acting like an asshole then.”
Eren smirks, leans into his own cruelty. “What, you jealous that you haven’t been getting all of my attention? Is that what’s got you acting all mean?”
“Cut it out, Eren.” Your eyes are telling him you’re still mad at him, furious even, but Eren doesn’t miss the way the rise and fall of your chest grows ever so slightly more frantic, the way your tongue darts out anxiously to wet your lips.
“Or what?” Eren leans down, boxing you in with one arm on either side of your head.
“I– we’re not doing this.”
“Doing what?” He widens his eyes innocently. “What am I doing?”
“You know exactly what you’re doing,” you hiss, but if you ask Eren, it sounds an awful lot like a moan is lodged in your throat, like your words are lacking the conviction that you’re trying to muster. He pushes himself in closer to you, noses mere inches apart, a wicked grin splitting his face.
“Is it working?”
Eren’s lips meet yours at the same moment that his hand whips out to catch your arm where you’re swinging it up to slap him. A broken little whimper leaves your mouth, spills into his, as your arm slackens in his grip. Eren feels your free hand fist into the hair at the nape of his neck, lets a groan fly out into nonexistent space between your lips. He’s been driving himself crazy thinking about this moment, the next time he’d get to feel your mouth on his again if it ever even happened, what you taste like, the little noises you make. The moment that’s been keeping him up at night is finally here, inflating his wounded ego like a balloon, and it feels fucking good.
You bite a little too hard into his bottom lip, the tangy, copper taste of Eren’s blood leaking into the kiss, making it clear that this doesn’t mean everything has settled between you both, but for the time being, Eren doesn’t care. All he cares about is the way your plush thighs feel wrapped around his waist, how easily he can scoop you up and pin you against the wall, the little moan that slips from your lips when he presses the length of his body entirely into you.
He doesn’t take his time, doesn’t savor the moment like he’ll surely wish he did tomorrow; Eren devours you, running a hand up your bare leg and under the hem of your skirt, grabbing a handful of your ass, squeezing at your hips.
“Bet you’re wet under this short little skirt, aren’t you?” Eren huffs into your mouth, sucking on your tongue.
“Fuck you,” you spit, squeezing your thighs tighter around his hips.
“Is that what you want?” Eren whispers, dizzy and drunker on you than the three Jameson shots he’d knocked back at the bar.
“I–”
“Been thinking about it?” Eren can’t stop himself, trying desperately to keep his lips on yours through the spill of words from his mouth. “Maybe that’s why you’ve been so mean to me, grinding all up on me in that club, teasing me, then running off. Just wanted a little love, didn’t you?”
“That depends,” you pant, moving your face to kiss up his neck, leave little nips in your wake. Eren groans deep in his chest, pushing against you even more insistently.
“On?”
“How bad you really want it,” you bite into his earlobe, steal another shaky groan from him.
Eren’s not a submissive guy, not by any means, but the thrill your words send running through his veins just about makes him drop you.
“Want me to beg?” Eren growls, shoving into you and biting deep at the junction of your neck and shoulder. “I’d only ever beg for you, baby.”
“Is that what you’re going to do? Beg for me when you’ve got another girl waiting for you?” Your anger has fizzled into a bitter sarcasm that goes straight between Eren’s legs and knocks him right in the ego all at once, tongue tracing the shell of his ear.
“Fuck– you’re my girl, my favorite girl, did you forget?” Eren grabs your face, forces your head back against the brick so you can look at him, eyes blown wide with lust and glossed over, mouth open in a desperate pant. “Told you the first time, you’re the best I’ve ever had. Didn’t think I was just fucking around, did you? It’s just you, only you.”
“Could have fooled me,” you dig your teeth into the thumb Eren’s worked between your lips, making him suck in a sharp ouch between his lips, “sure don’t feel like your favorite girl.”
“Sounds like I need to fix that, then,” Eren lets a hand trail down between the little space he’s leaned back to create between your bodies, finds his way to the damp fabric of your panties, “oh, who’s the liar now?”
“Don’t– fuck,” your eyes roll back in your head when he starts pressing into where he knows your clit is, rubbing insistent circles over the cloth just to elicit that reaction from you, rip the control right out of your pretty little hands. Eren chuckles down at you, dark and dangerous, amused at how quickly you melt for him.
“Thought we weren’t doing this?” He parrots your words from earlier, nosing at your neck. “Thought I was an asshole?”
“You are,” you grit out through a clenched jaw, but Eren notices the little forward push of your hips, notices that you’re trying to hold yourself back from rubbing yourself into his palm.
“And that gets you wet,” Eren counters, grinding the heel of his palm up into your clit and wrenching a little gasp from you, “bet you liked watching me in there, bet you would have loved watching me kick his ass for you.”
Eren pauses, waits to hear if you’ve got anything to say for yourself, but you’re already half-gone, rolling your hips against the steady rocking of his hand and whining in your throat. He smiles– god, you really are his favorite.
“Say it,” Eren growls into your skin, slipping a finger past the fabric of your panties to slide it into you, not the whole thing, but just a knuckle, just enough to make you shudder in his arms, “tell me you need me, want to hear you say what this perfect pussy’s already telling me. C’mon baby.”
Just as your mouth opens, either to answer him or snark at him, Eren can’t be sure, a cat-call from across the street snaps both of you out of your haze, your eyes flying wide. You shove at him, wriggling in his arms until Eren mercifully drops you to your feet, reaches down to right your rumpled little skirt for you. You glower up at him, look him up and down, and just when Eren’s about to bullshit some excuse to run home, fuck into his hand with your name on his lips, you surprise him.
“I mean, after all that, the least you can do is walk me home.”
The necessary steps of Eren closing your tabs, walking into the whipping winter wind, walking through the streets silently with Eren side-eyeing you as you storm along, arms crossed petulantly, commence. They go by in a blur; Eren’s not even sure he should be doing this right now with the lack of blood flow to his head. You don’t make eye contact, and if Eren had any more conscious thought at the moment, he would think you’re already regretting this before it happens, but he can’t bring himself to care, not yet.
He’ll kick himself for this as soon as the sun rises, but for now? The only thing he’s worried about lies wet and pulsing for him under the hem of your skirt.
The moment you’ve gotten the door open, Eren’s got you shoved up against the wall again, letting his hands find their way under your skirt and grabbing at your ass with a quiet groan.
“Historia?” he questions, nipping at your earlobe just because he can.
“Ymir’s,” you pant, pushing him off of you and practically storming to your bedroom. It hits Eren that for all the time you’ve spent together, he’s never actually seen your bedroom. He thinks that maybe he’ll do a little investigating of his own once he’s fucked all the fight out of you.
Safely behind the door of your bedroom, Eren wastes no time in yanking his shirt over his head, reaching for yours only to find that you’ve already rid yourself of the cute little sweater he had been admiring from down the bar back at Scout’s. You’ve got a pretty lace number underneath, one that Eren almost doesn’t want to take from you, but he reaches behind you and unclips it. Eren plans on taking and taking and taking everything you’ll give him, just for tonight, because the sinking feeling in his chest is telling him to do it while he can; a girl like you never sticks around a guy like him for long, and he’s already done himself the favor of ruining most of the potential your relationship had anyway.
“Eren– oh,” the broken whimper that leaves your lips snaps him out of his thoughts, reminds him that he’s got one of your breasts in his palm and the other nipple between his teeth. Eren wraps his free hand around your back, pressing his splayed fingers between your shoulder blades to arch you closer to him until he’s so full of you he can hardly breathe.
He’s going to keep taking from you, take until he drowns in it.
“Feel good? Missed me?” Eren’s words come out a little garbled around the flesh in his mouth, but you get the message all the same, managing a sarcastic eye roll through your arousal. You decline to answer him, but Eren can read your body, so he digs his teeth in harshly to the little swell of fat on the underside of your breast, sucks a bruise in to cut that eye roll of yours right in half. Eren smirks when your eyes flutter closed, a reluctant hand coming up to thread through his hair. “Thought so.”
“Can you just–fuck–get on with it?”
“Uh-uh,” Eren straightens back to his full height, backs you onto the bed until your knees catch and you fall onto your back, glaring up at him defiantly. “Gotta get you ready for me, right? I’m sure you remember.”
He eats up the doubt that flickers across your face, the memory of the first time you’d taken him all over your expression. Eren reaches beneath your skirt, pulls your panties down your legs delicately, rubs his hands along your thigh-high stockings with an appreciative swear under his breath.
“There’s a zipper on the back,” you wiggle a bit to try and reach the fasten of your skirt, but Eren slaps a firm hand onto your hip, pins you back onto the bed.
“Think I’m letting you take this off? After you were teasing me with it all night?” Eren says, stretching his body over yours, taking full advantage of his size to cage you in.
“I wasn’t teasing,” you huff, “these are just my clothes.”
“Anything you wear is teasing,” Eren brings his fingers to your core, swipes through the wetness gathered there, “especially when you look like this.”
You open your mouth to retort, but your jaw goes slack when Eren rolls over your clit softly, rubbing little circles into it at the perfect speed, the perfect pressure. He’s not interested in teasing you too much, he wants to feel you break on him as many times as you’ll grant him the pleasure. Once your little gasps have begun to swell into quiet moans, Eren ventures down, pushes his middle finger into you, all the way to the hitch. Eren answers your widened eyes and your little gasp with a sharp hiss between his teeth, marveling at the way your walls cling to his finger, sucking him in when he slides out and back in again.
“Just like the first time,” Eren murmurs, leaning down to take your collarbone between his teeth, “are you always this tight?”
“I– I don’t– more, please.”
Eren smiles around the mouthful of your skin he has, feeling his heart swell at how cute and airy your words come out, how clear it is to him, even if it’s only for this precious moment, that you’re just as desperate for him as he is for you. He grants your wish, working a second finger in beside the first, curling them cruelly against that spot in your walls that he knows gets your heart racing.
“Eren,” you keen, arching off the bed and tossing your head to the side.
“So tight baby,” Eren says in awe, pulling his head to watch as your cunt leaves little white streaks on his fingers, “so warm, can’t fucking wait to get my cock in you.”
“P-please,” you sputter, hooded eyes sparkling at the mention of it. Eren thinks wildly that he might be falling in love with the little unshed tears that prick your eyes when you start to get close, the little broken pleas you give him.
“You gotta cum for me first.” Eren works his fingers faster, can feel the fluttering of your cunt around his fingers. He realizes how worked up he must have gotten you outside of Scout’s, how you’re so wet it’s dripping down your soft skin onto the sheets, and you haven’t even cum yet.
“I’m– I just want you to fuck me,” you say, whiny and pitiful.
“I will,” Eren coos, “missed this messy little cunt so much, I promise I’ll fuck you, just give me one first. Gotta make it fit, right?”
“Mhm,” you whimper, hips bucking up towards him. Eren watches, drinks the sight of you in: skirt pulled up around your waist, legs spread wide open for him, slick spread all over the inside of your thighs, bottom lip tucked so tightly between your teeth he worries you might draw blood. He commits the sight to memory, his pretty little student all strung out and begging for his cock, begging him to make you cum. If he remembers right, if he curls his fingers just a little more harshly–
“Eren–” your head shoots up suddenly, eyes flying wide open, fists tightening in the sheets.
“Right there?” Eren grins, sharp and half-crazed, raising his eyebrows at the reaction the new angle has brought out of you.
“Right– oh, oh my god, I–”
“Give it to me,” Eren urges, working his fingers even faster, “come on, baby, show me how much you missed me.”
With a cry, you twist and thrash under him, cumming almost violently. Eren drinks it down, leans down to press a kiss against your open mouth, pins your body to the bed so you can’t run from the vicious waves of pleasure wracking your body.
“There’s my girl,” he mutters, licking against your tongue, “such a good, good girl for me.”
When your orgasm finally starts to ebb, Eren doesn’t let up, not entirely; he keeps his fingers working in a slow drag through your walls, appreciating the way your muscles twitch and the way you feebly shove at his wrist.
“Eren…” you trail off weakly, fingers finally locking harshly around his hand and pulling him from you, “too much.”
“Thought you wanted me to ‘get on with it’?” Eren snorts, finally obliging your earlier request and sliding your skirt over your legs, tracing his fingers up and down your thighs once you’re fully bare and beautiful underneath him, taking mental snapshots of every inch of smooth skin that he’s lucky enough to have under his touch.
“I do,” you say, eyeing him with a glint of annoyance in your eye. It just makes Eren smile bigger; you’re so cute when you’re mad.
“Whatever you want, baby,” Eren says, situating his hands under your arms and practically throwing you up against the pillows at the head of your bed. You widen your legs so he can crawl in between them, kissing his way up your torso in a self-indulgent, tender way.
“Do we, um…” you start to question him, and Eren’s close enough to your face now that he can feel your cheeks warm. He sits up a little, arches a questioning brow down at you.
“What?”
“Do we need to use a condom?”
Eren frowns, confused. “I mean, after last time, I thought you were on birth control.”
“I am,” you confirm, nodding slowly, some odd emotion flickering over your features that could be anger, could be heartbreak, “but I don’t know if, like–”
“I haven’t been with anyone else,” Eren catches your meaning, feeling his heart thud heavy and loud in his chest, “not since…”
“Oh,” you exhale quietly, nodding, “okay.”
“You?”
“Uh, no,” your voice is so low Eren almost doesn’t hear you, but he watches your head slowly lull side to side in confirmation, “no one else.”
Eren can’t excuse the rush of relief that courses through him, the swell of happiness to learn that no one’s gotten to see you like this since the last time he had. It goes straight to his cock, hard and drooling between his legs. Before he can get too wrapped up in the emotional side of things, Eren leans in hard to the horrible, possessive thoughts that have constricted him, laying himself over you and taking his cock in his hand, swiping it through the mess between your legs.
“Good.” He even surprises himself with that, looking down on you with dark eyes, eyes that promise ruin.
“Please,” you give him one more breathless plea, Eren swears you know too well how to snap his composure clean in half.
He pushes himself in, choking on a moan at how tight you are, vicelike and suffocating around him. A broken groan flies from your lips, your fingers tighten their grip on his biceps until Eren’s sure you’re going to break the skin, but he’s beyond caring. His mind wipes completely blank, save for the hot, wet heat that’s enveloping him, beckoning him to snap his hips forward viciously and be done with it. With what little self-restraint he can muster up, Eren flicks his eyes up to yours.
“So…it’s so–” another whimper cuts you off, and Eren can feel your thighs twitch on either side of his hips.
“Too much?” Eren manages to reign himself in, back out another inch or so.
“No,” you wrap a leg around his waist, shove him further into you and wrench a deep, guttural groan from his chest, “feels good, keep going.”
“Careful what you wish for,” Eren breathes, trying to retain any semblance of control over this situation, give you that dominant dirty talk that he knows gets you off instead of turning into a whimpering, moaning mess at the feel of you clenching around him. He bottoms out, feeling himself fuck all the way up into your tummy, head falling down onto your shoulder.
Eren manages to keep his pace slow and gentle, rolling his hips into yours like he’s making love to you, not saying goodbye. Little satisfied sounds are slipping out of your mouth, but Eren can see a flicker of consciousness in your eyes; you’re not drooling for him, out of your mind with want, not like the first time. He frowns.
“What’s wrong?”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re…I don’t know, you seem like you’re somewhere else,” Eren hates having to admit that he notices, that he even cares, and the unsteady creak of his voice reflects that, just making him hate himself even more. You don’t seem to notice his vulnerability or, if you do, you aren’t affected by it. You simply raise an eyebrow at him.
“I mean…it’s good,” you say, eyes flitting around the room, like you can’t quite admit whatever you’re going to say while looking him straight in the eyes, “but I want you to fuck me.”
“I am fucking you.” Eren’s frown deepens into a scowl of annoyance. What, is he not good enough for you now?
“Well, literally speaking yes, you are fucking me. But,” a nervous giggle slips from your teeth, riling the anger starting to bubble under his skin again, “I’ve heard a lot of rumors about you.”
“Why are we talking about this while I am literally inside of you?”
“Because I want you to fuck me,” you raise your eyebrows meaningfully, canting your hips up towards him. It clicks– as much as Eren wants to show you what he feels because he can’t tell you, fucking you like an animal, as he’s prone to do, is what you want. Eren’s been so wrapped up in trying to relish whatever time he may have left with you before you inevitably cast him off to the side again, he’s not been paying attention.
“You want me to fuck you, huh?” Eren thrusts forward a little harsher, a little more pointedly. Your eyes roll back, a slow, indulgent smile spreading across your face.
“I want you to fuck me like I know you can,” Eren feels your arms wrap around his neck, pulling his ear to your lips, “unless that last time was all luck. Surely all those rumors aren’t false, are they?”
Eren knows you’re trying to get under his skin, to bite at him through the haze of the heavy air weighing down on both of you, to rekindle that anger that you had brought out of him outside of the bar. What is he going to do with you, incorrigible little thing that you are? If Eren Jaeger was a better man, he would stop this all right now, force you both to talk through the sharp, spiky things that hang in the balance between you two.
But Eren Jaeger is not a better man, he’s only a man, broken and needy and tucked into his favorite place on earth, with the girl of his dreams below him urging him to fuck her brains out. Is he really to blame?
Eren rips himself out of your grasp, standing tall and menacing on his knees over you.
“I’ll fuck you,” Eren grits out through a clenched jaw, grabbing you by the back of your thighs and shoving your knees towards your head, “but you better be ready to put your money where your mouth is.”
“Yeah? Well– oh,” a sharp, shrill cry of your own making cuts your voice off when Eren snaps his hips forward, brutal and unforgiving into the wet heat of your cunt. He doesn’t stop there, immediately pulling out and snapping forward again, hitting somewhere deep inside of you that, based on your face, he knows no man has ever been able to reach. He smirks, all cocky and cruel, setting a harsh pace that’s got you clawing at the sheets.
“What? Is it too much?” Eren whines down at you condescendingly, eating up the way you’re already whimpering and moaning. He can see tears glistening at the corners of your eyes, threatening to fall.
“No, no,” your voice is broken, breathless, “it’s– fuck, it’s so good, Eren–”
“Is this what you wanted?” Eren growls down at you, locking one strong hand around your throat. “Wanted me to fuck you like the little slut you are?”
“Yes!” Your admission comes out in a choked, watery cry, the tears in your eyes finally beginning to run down your temples. Even if it wasn’t written all over your face, Eren can feel how much you like it; your pussy is fluttering, pulsing around him, begging him to keep going. He drives his hips forward like a man starved, a man whose life depends on fucking you until you can’t walk straight for a week.
“Who knew?” Eren muses to himself, wiping the tears from your face. “Who knew my pretty girl was so filthy?”
“I, I–Eren,” you moan wantonly, thighs shaking under his firm grip. Eren should hold himself back, knows that you’re going to be so sore in the morning, but a sick part of him is glad for it. Let you walk around campus with the throbbing ache of him inside of you, maybe he’ll fuck you so hard that little twinge in your belly when you sit down never goes away.
“Say it,” Eren urges, squeezing your windpipe, “tell me how much you love it, tell me how bad this pussy missed me.”
“I–” you choke out around his iron grip on your neck, “I m-missed you, I love it w-when you fuck me–”
“Fuck you like a whore?”
“Fuck me like a w-whore,” you wheeze out, face reddening with shame. Eren loves it, wants to kiss the blush off your cheeks and swallow it whole.
“That’s right, baby,” Eren releases your throat, watches the way you heave and gasp as the air flows back into your lungs, only to be punched out by the force of his thrusts, “you love my cock, don’t you?”
“Yes, I– oh my god, Eren, I–”
“What?” Eren sneers, smirking wickedly down at you, “is my smart girl already so fucked out she can’t talk?”
“No, I– I just– fuck!” You’re so loud for him, if he knew that fucking you within an inch of your life would get him this, Eren never would have bothered playing nice in the first place.
“‘ve barely even started,” Eren laughs, mean and sharp, “and you’re already fucked so dumb you can’t even think. Think you can cum for me, just like this?”
He doesn’t even have to ask; he can feel the way your cunt’s starting to tighten around him so harshly that it nearly pushes him out. He’s bullying his way back into you on every thrust, forcing you to open up for him, to take what he has to give. Inwardly, Eren hopes to god you do cum soon; he’s not going to last, not with you spread out beneath him crying and wailing his name. Eren doesn’t think he can hold out much longer without filling you up, watching his cum seep out of you.
“Eren, Eren, Eren–” your nonsensical babbling has started to take the shape of his name, Eren can feel his ego swelling and swelling to the point of bursting. There’s a tone of warning in your moans; the onslaught of an orgasm is threatening to pull you under.
“Don’t you dare hold out on me,” Eren slaps your thigh hard, the tacky, wet sound of it echoing through the room, somehow finds the wherewithal to piston his hips even faster, “want to feel it, feel you cum on me.”
“I’m going to, I’m going– oh Eren–”
Eren practically snarls, leaning over to spit in your open, waiting mouth. “What are you waiting for? Don’t you–fuck–want your pretty cunt stuffed full of me? I’ll give you yours, just gotta cum for me and give me what’s fucking mine. Go on–”
Eren’s rambling is cut short by the loud, raspy sob you let out, clenching down around him so hard it almost hurts, drawing a loud, long hiss from him. He looks down past your quivering thighs, sees the frothy white that’s streaking his cock, and he’s done for. He grants you a few more sloppy thrusts, and then with one final snap of his hips, he stills, holding himself as deep inside as he can manage, pumping you full of him.
Before he can stop himself, Eren’s crashing into you, bringing your lips to his in a messy, frantic kiss, open-mouthed and teeth clacking together. He can feel your body shaking violently underneath him, rocking with wave after wave of post-orgasm bliss, but he can’t seem to break himself from you, collapsed and clutching onto your smaller frame like it’s the only thing tethering him to this earth.
“Eren,” you finally say weakly, voice muffled as you smack at his shoulder, “you’re heavy.”
“Sorry,” he grunts, rolling off of you reluctantly. Your crumpled, naked form is still there, still so tempting and soft and warm. Your eyes are shut, so you don’t see Eren’s tentative hand reach for your hip, just wanting to rub a thumb comfortingly over the bone there, before he pulls back, second-guessing himself. A few pregnant beats pass by, Eren biting his tongue and holding his breath as he waits for you to make the first move, to direct him into how to speak to you after what’s just happened.
“I need to shower,” you finally say, words coming out in a breathless admission.
“Yeah,” Eren answers lamely, sitting up and looking around your room. There’s postcards from almost every country imaginable, tacked above your desk and fluttering in the breeze from your heating system. The desk itself is a wreck, dozens of papers and books scattered around in seemingly no order. Eren notices a little stuffed teddy bear tossed onto the floor and picks it up with a smile, placing it back against your pillows.
“Are you…”
“Am I…?” Eren looks at you, hoping that his pleading gaze isn’t too horribly obvious.
“I think Historia will kill me if she sees you leaving in the morning.” As soon as the words leave your mouth, Eren swears he can see something like regret fly over your face, and you turn your back to him instantly, scrounging around on the ground..
“I don’t know,” Eren wheezes through his shellshock, trying to force out a nonchalant chuckle that only sounds strangled and tense, “she’s pretty short. I don’t know how she could manage it.”
“You’d be surprised,” you slip a bathrobe over your shoulders and grant him a mirthless smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes.
Eren dresses in the heavy silence that’s fallen over the room, pulling his shirt over his head and having to inwardly brace himself to face you. Eren’s comfortable with himself, probably knows a little too well that he’s an attractive guy, but he feels completely naked even fully clothed when he turns around to see you, standing all cozy and fucked out and sleepy in your fuzzy robe.
“So…” Eren trails off, wanting to smack his own face for speaking first.
“Have a good night, I guess,” you look up at him and then quickly away, chewing nervously on your bottom lip. Eren steels himself, lets every bit of courage he can find in his body rise to his mouth, forcing it to move.
“Are we, you know, good?”
“Good?”
“We said a lot of things to each other back there,” Eren can’t meet your gaze, can practically feel his face burning as he scratches anxiously at the back of his head. When he forces himself to look at you, there’s something odd and unreadable in your eyes. Are you sad? No, you’re smiling. Well, sort of smiling– it looks contrived, not real. But you’re not angry, not entirely.
“Yeah, I’m good if you are.” That stupid, insincere smile is still twisting your features.
Eren doesn’t like the look of dishonesty on you, but he’s fought enough for tonight. He’s sad, spent, and tired, and he figures it’s hopeless anyway.
“Okay, good,” he makes his way to your bedroom door, fingers twitching for the feel of your skin under his, eyes damn near watering, “I’ll talk to you soon.”
“See ya.”
And with that, Eren’s left alone in the cold of your apartment hallway, alone and sickened by the feelings of satisfaction and longing swirling in his chest.
#eren#eren jaeger x reader#eren jeager x reader#eren yeager x reader#eren yaeger x reader#eren jaeger x you#eren yeager x you#aot x reader#aot smut#eren jaeger smut#eren yeager smut#much ado about nothing#much ado universe#much ado uni
410 notes
·
View notes
Note
hellu lando with it's okay, just breathe.
I LOVE your writing, you deserve all the celebration love!
Pairing: Lando Norris x female!reader
Words: 1020
A/n: the fact i went over 1k words for a story i don’t feel confident about is crazy. I really hope you will like it, i’ve never write about Lando before so it’s a first try
Dating Lando was like living in a new sitcom episode every single day. Even when he was away for the championship and you couldn’t travel with him, he found a way to make your day better. A call, a message, the stupidest joke ever or the cutest proof of love.
There were some bad days, of course. But somehow, the sun always seemed to shine even in the darkest sky.
You could write a whole book about your boyfriend.
You really considered doing it these past days. Being away from him for too long was getting harder for you. It was really like missing a half of yourself when he was in another country or, worse, in another continent. No amount of calls was making for the lack of waking up with him by your side.
“You realize that one day you’re going to deal with me every day for the rest of your life? Shouldn’t you enjoy your free time while you can?” he told you on the phone after you admitted being sad about him leaving early for Canada. He hasn’t even been home since Spain and he was already leaving.
“Well right now, I miss you, idiot.”
“Well I miss you too, dummy.”
It was probably one of the quickest decisions you’ve ever made. After waking up again feeling alone and sad without the man you loved, you booked a flight for Montréal during the afternoon to see him. You didn’t even tell anyone, except for Max, Lando’s best friend, to make sure at least one person would be aware of your trip. You wanted to surprise your boyfriend.
You had no idea that this would become one of the most stressful days for him.
When Lando woke up on the other side of the world, you were already up in the air. He didn’t question why you weren’t answering his texts. He knew that when you were working, you tended to be so focused that you forget about the world around you. He also knew that he could call you if he was worried because that was the only thing that would make you pick up your phone.
Somehow, Lando felt like something was off. He could put his finger on what.
If he was a fan of media duties, he couldn’t focus on anything today. His laugh sounded fake, he wasn’t smiling as much. “If something is wrong, you can tell me.” Oscar reassured him after he had to handle every interview that morning.
But he didn’t say anything. Lando wasn’t the kind to cry on anyone’s shoulder for nothing. He didn’t want to bother his teammate for just a feeling.
Then it became more than a feeling when he still couldn’t reach you.
You were supposed to be home. Or heading home. Anyway, you would have answered Lando’s texts already. But you didn’t.
He tried to call you. But you didn’t answer.
He asked Carlos to call you too, knowing he was one of the few drivers to have your number. But you didn’t answer either.
“Something wrong?” Carlos asked him but he refused to say anything. If he kept it to himself, it wouldn’t be real, right?
So Lando did the worst thing he could have done, he knew that. He went to the practices with fear and stress. He couldn’t think about the race or the cars or his whole career. Fuck that. All he cared about was you. He did so many mistakes he couldn’t even imagine the number of comments on social media about him being done or whatever these stupid opinions were saying. The team was already giving him a hard time on the radio.
When Lando got out of the car, he felt like he saw a ghost. Expect it wasn’t one.
It was you. Standing in the middle of the garage.
It took him a few seconds to realize that he wasn’t dreaming, that it wasn’t his mind giving him what he wanted to see. You were here. For real. Not home. But here with him.
Lando then ran to you and took you in his arms. “Oh wow I didn’t expect that to be so welcoming.” you laughed in his ears. Knowing him, you were convinced he would make a joke about you being here at the same time as his mistress. Or that you should take a shower, when he was the one dirty after racing.
Not that he would hug you that tight. You felt him bringing him to his room and you followed him, quite perplexed on why he was reacting like that.
It wasn’t until you were alone that you noticed he was shivering against you.
“Hey, what’s going on?” you asked him, moving your head to see his sad face. You barely ever saw him being that miserable around you.
“You’re here…” he replied, breathless. You took his face between your hands.
“it's okay, just breathe,” you put your forehead against his and felt him relaxed slowly.
“You didn’t answer me and I thought something had happened. I couldn’t call you, I couldn’t reach you and I thought you were… I can’t imagine my life without you!”
“I’m not planning on leaving you.” you replied with a sweet smile, giving him a soft kiss on his lips. Lando always said that your lips had some calming power. And he wasn’t wrong. You could feel relaxed after that, like it was the proof he needed to be sure you were really here.
You spent some long minutes together in the silence. Now that he was accepting that nothing had happened to you and that you were here, for real, he was enjoying your presence. You gave him small kisses in the hair, the one he loved when he had a terrible weekend. It felt quite the same for once.
“I’m taking notes that you don’t like surprises.” you whispered in his hair.
“Not the one where I think I’m losing the love of my life, dummy.”
“Love of my life and dummy in the same sentence? What a pretty love language, Norris.”
#lando norris#lando norris x reader#lando norris imagine#lando norris story#lando norris x you#lando norris x y/n#lando norris angst#lando norris fanfic#lando norris fic#f1 fanfic#f1 angst#f1 story#f1 imagine#f1#my writing
558 notes
·
View notes
Text
even if it’s handcuffed, I’m leaving here with you.
Pairing: Commander Fox/fem Reader
Word count: 4.7K
Tags/warnings, smut (18+: (miners DNI) dumb decisions, they turn out alright, slight exhibitionism (they fuck in the back of 79’s and Fox enjoys the idea of being overheard), oral (F receiving), fingering, light bondage, spanking, but like only one, unprotected P in V sex, dom/sub elements, biting/marking (it’s Fox, what do you expect)
Summary: Fox hasn’t been giving you the attention you’ve been craving. The way in which you go about fixing that is highly questionable, but ultimately, a resounding success.
Note: yes, this was 100% inspired by a specific lyric in I’mgonnagetyoubac by Taylor Swift, referred to in the title. I heard it, went Fox bby c’mere I need to do something with this, and this is the end result, which I hope is enjoyable. Also, do these characters have communication issues that they probably should acknowledge and talk through? Probably. Are we not going to acknowledge any of that here for the sake of✨minimal plot✨ yes.
“This, and I mean this in the nicest way possible, is one of the stupidest ideas you’ve ever had.”
To be fair, your best friend is saying this all while she downs a shot, barely containing her smirk behind the glass. She’s already given her rather enthusiastic consent to this idea that she has just declared is stupid
Because that’s what best friends do.
Look, you have to agree, the idea sounds completely outlandish and lacks any sound logic whatsoever, not to mention, there’s no guarantee that it’ll even work. But, lounging around a table at a bar on Coruscant’s Clubbing scene, and with your ride or die best friend perched across from you to egg on your delusions, it starts to sound not as crazy as it had initially sounded when you had first spoke the words aloud.
In theory, the idea is straightforward and simple enough.
Start a fight at the clone bar while Fox is on duty so that you can actually get him alone for more than two minutes.
You’re aware, somewhere in the back of your mind, that these are rather drastic measures for you to take just to get your boyfriend to notice you. But, with your rationalizing, alcohol emboldening you, and your friends immediate agreement to help without hesitation, this idea starts to seem not only reasonable, but solid.
Listen, if you were able to be a normal, sensible couple, and you could just do something like, you know, talk to Fox, you would.
The problem is, though, that Fox has been making that very difficult.
Being the marshal commander of the Coruscant guard carries a lot of weight and responsibilities, you get that. You really, really do. But, when he rarely makes it home most nights because he’s fallen asleep at his desk from overworking himself, and you can count the amount of times he’s touched you over the past two weeks on one hand, you’re starting to go a little bit insane.
Okay, so, you’re horny and so desperate for his attention that you’re willing to do something completely unreasonable, not to mention a little bit illegal, to get it. So what.
*
The plan, for all of its complete lack of sense and sound judgment, goes a little too perfectly.
The guard often sends some of their own out on patrols during 79’s busiest nights to keep order and ensure that there are no inter-battalion style brawls.
You have Fox’s schedule memorized. So, you wait until you know he’s set to make his rounds, pick a table that is clearly within his eyeline, and then, minutes after he shows up, give your friend the subtle signal.
It starts with raised voices, shouted accusations and glaring until you know you’ve peaked his interest. Even through the tint of his visor, you can practically feel his eyes on you from across the room.
Once you’re sure his eyes are securely glued on you, you allow high school drama and improv skills to take over, letting the fight escalate into something physical.
It’s hard, knowing that your friend is about to take the brunt of this for you, and your equal parts appreciative, and a little bit terrified, that she’s letting you launch yourself at her. But, you think to console yourself, you had practised this. How to make it look convincing, just good enough that it draws the attention of the cori’s, while also inflicting minimal damage because due to the fact that you don’t want your friend to get in heat for this too, making yourself the clear instigator, she’s only dodging, refusing to hit back.
When the thud of boots and the crackle of voices through helmet speakers come, barking gruff orders to break it up, you’re more than a little relieved.
Even with his bucket still on, it’s easy for you to identify that it’s him. Him who pulls you off of her, none too gently. Him, whose rough, gloved fingers enclose around your wrists, smoothly pinning them behind your back before you can even blink and fuck, why was that so hot? Him, who, for a brief moment, you feel the cold and unforgiving plastoid of his chest plate digging as he presses flush against you, voice a low, displeased rumble as he addresses you, voice too quiet for anyone else to hear.
“You know, princess,” he mutters darkly, giving your wrists a squeeze. “If you wanted tonight to end with me locking binders around those pretty wrists of yours, there was no need to go to all of this trouble.”
He knew.
Somehow, he’s figured out exactly what you were doing within seconds and for some reason, this only intensifies the thrill that runs through your body and causes your thighs to clench.
You’re not given time to ruminate on this, though, barely catch the subtle wink that your friend gives you before another member of the guard blocks your view of her as he kneels down to check on her. Fox, reflexes lightning fast, spins you around and immediately begins to usher you towards the back of the establishment, giving the other guard member on duty, you think it might be Thorn, a curt nod to acknowledge that he can handle this on his own.
Your led away to the sounds of low whistles, and many identical sets of brown eyes peering at you interestedly as Fox’s brothers stare at you when you pass by their tables.
Your face, at this point, has the decency to flush with oncoming embarrassment as they watch Fox leading you away.
No time for regrets now, you think to yourself as Fox reaches around you, still keeping your wrists firmly in one hand as he unlocks the door to an out-of-the-way office, frequently used to detain clones who start fights in the bar.
For better or for worse , you have captured his full, undivided attention for the night.
now, you think, it’s only a matter of what he’s going to do about it.
*
“You know,” he muses, arms expertly caging you in and crowding you against the office wall, “if you’re going to fake a fight to get my attention, you could at least have picked an accomplice who I haven’t already met, and who I am perfectly aware you are on good terms with.”
“How would you know?” You ask, still slightly breathless as his amber eyes catch yours in the dim light, levelling you with a look. “A lot could change in the two weeks that I’ve barely seen you.”
“Is that what this is about?” He asks, voice low and somehow too smooth and even, tilting his head to the side. “That explains why she made the effort to do this.”
He doesn’t back down, doesn’t even look away in any semblance of guilt, which is infuriating. You’re about to tell him so when you’re cut off abruptly, words dissolving into nothing but a short gasp as his head lowers, lips, followed by the sharp bite of his teeth along the much too exposed skin of one of your breasts.
You blink, looking down at yourself, startled. It appears that whilst your friend was engaged in skirmishing with you, she had managed to tactfully pull open a few buttons from your shirt, splitting it just so that one of your breasts is tantalizingly exposed, nipple barely covered by the remaining fabric.
It’s fabric that is quickly shoved to the side as Fox, eyes never leaving yours as he does, takes your nipple into his mouth, tongue rolling over the bud, encouraging it to harden between warm lips.
“It’s almost like this was... planned,” he muses, accentuating his words with a sharp pinch as he tweaks your nipple between his thumb and forefinger, smirking at the way you jolt with surprise. His breath ghosts along the column of your throat as he moves to whisper in your ear. “Wasn’t it, cyar’ika.”
You’re prevented from answering when his teeth nip at your earlobe, causing any words you had in your mind to fall away, giving way to a shiver as you arch into him. A thrill runs through your body, and a pleasant hum has replaced the void where your thoughts used to be. If you had the sense to be embarrassed about how easy it was for him to get you like this, you would be. But right now, pushed up against the wall with him looming over you, it takes all you have to reach for him, fingers trying to find perch’s between his armour plating.
“Fox,” you let out a whine, tilting your head up to look at him pleadingly as you press yourself against him.
“Uh uh,” he chides, quickly extricating your hands. “These stay here,” he orders, swiftly pinning your wrists above your head with one hand. “If you know what’s good for you,” he continues darkly.
“A and what if I don’t?” You try to challenge, but your voice comes out in more of a squeak, wobbling slightly, as his fingers trail down your sides, just teasing at the skin beneath your shirt.
He chuckles, the sound a husky, dangerous rumble in his throat. Abruptly, he drops to his knees in front of you, pulling both your skirt and panties down with him in one harsh tug. They pool around your feet on the floor.
“Oh, meshla,” he coos at you, voice dripping with mock sincerity as one gloved fingertip, tantalizingly featherlight, sweeps through your already wet folds, only grazing over your clit enough to make your hips stutter in surprise before he pulls away.
“Trust me, by the time I’m done with you, you will.”
Your ability to form a quick witted retort to that is greatly impeded, and ultimately foiled, probably intentionally, by Fox lifting one of your legs, manoeuvring it so it drapes over the curve of one of those broad, imposing shoulders of his.
Before you’re given time to react to this sudden shift of balance, he’s leaning forward, his impatience evident in the way he roughly holds your thighs apart as he does. Your clit is suckled into his mouth with an almost unadulterated greed as it’s pulled between his lips, tongue barely fluttering over it before your hips jolt, and the sound that manages to escape you, half in surprise, half a needy whine before you manage to check yourself, remembering where, exactly, he’s doing this to you, sounds just about as uncontrolled as his actions are.
He pulls back, only to give you a deceptively teasing smirk as he tugs off his gloves. “What’s the matter, cyar?” He almost purrs, a now gloveless finger slowly teasing at your entrance, eyes fixated on how you clench around nothing. “Got nothing to say now?”
He evidently finds his ability to have you this riled up with only a few touches amusing, because he’s again leaning forward before you can respond. A series of gentle kitten licks targeted at your clit, as his finger slowly presses into your heat has you forgetting about that fact quickly, the only sound escaping your lips being that of a strangled gasp-moan.
With the way his lips quirk and he lets out a small hum of satisfaction, the vibrations of which run through your body like a shockwave that leaves you breathless, it’s evident that this is exactly the way he wants you, squirming and desperate.
“Fox, I, we can’t do this here ohh.”
You lose track of the point you were trying to make with the smallest movement of his finger, almost gentle as it curls inside you, just brushing over your G spot, causing you to start stammering.
“Mm, why’s that, princess?” He asks, pulling out his finger only so that he can insistently begin to open you up with a second. “I don’t really think you’re in the position to be making demands like that, hm?”
Teeth nipping at that sensitive spot high on your inner thigh silences your retort. “So pretty,” he breathes, almost to himself as his tongue lazily soothes over the mark he’s made, before he’s back on your clit, lips, tongue, and fingers that curl and press and thrust all working to bring you up and straight to the edge.
And take you to the edge, he does. Within minutes that feel like seconds, he has you arching your back, pushing your hips to meet the delicious, constant thrust of his fingers and the targeted, precise teasing of his tongue and lips against your already sensitive clit, breathless begging and pleading because you’re just, you need, you’re almost.
There’s an audible clap as you desperately press your hand against your mouth, trying to silence the high-pitched, feverish whimper that’s fighting to escape your lips because there, right there, rightfuckingthereyoujust...
Then he’s pulling away, releasing your clit with an obscene sounding wet pop as he rises to his feet, calm and totally unfazed in the face of your obvious frustrated desperation, hips still vainly moving in an attempt to find something that’s no longer there. He looks down at you, watching with evident amusement in his eyes as you lose the high that he’s given you, languidly taking the time to idly suck on his fingers, still slick with your arousal as he waits.
He’s patient, simply staring down at your quivering form as he holds you within his scrutiny, deliberately drawing out the silence until the tension has grown thick, and it starts to make you feel disquieted, nervous, almost like you’ve done something you shouldn’t have and you’re now waiting for him to pronounce your punishment.
Only then, only once he sees the realization dawn on your face and your eyes widen slightly does he reach out, lightly tracing one finger over the back of your hand.
Your hand that he told you to stay above your head on the wall.
Your hand that is, right now, still pressed firmly against your half open mouth.
“I thought I told you,” he muses casually, fingers delicately wrapping around your wrist and pulling it away from your lips, “to keep these where I put them.”
You swallow, but look up at him with a falsely innocent expression because fuck it, you’re already out of the frying pan, might as well just jump headfirst into the fire.
“Well, technically you told me to do that only if I knew what was good for me, so... guess I don’t,” you say with a shrug, flashing him a smirk.
“Hm,” he huffs, pondering as he continues to hold your wrist, giving it a squeeze in warning. “So it appears you don’t.”
Within seconds, he’s smoothly spun you around, and pulled both of your wrists behind your back, with a speed that’s so succinct that you don’t even comprehend what’s happening until the heavy, cold weight of the binders settles against your skin, locking your wrists in place with a smooth, resounding click.
Oh.
A hand on your back gently nudges you forward and without question, you begin to walk, only pausing when he’s directed you to stand in front of a desk, the height of which reaches just above your waist. He urges you down, hand pressing in between your shoulder blades until you’re bent over, skin flush against the cool wood.
You jump when his voice appears, low and inches away from your ear as he leans over you, hands delicately scheming down your sides as he speaks.
“Oh, meshla, you misunderstand me,” he purrs, and he can’t resist gently nipping at your earlobe just to hear the small noise of surprise that escapes you and feel the way your body shivers beneath him.
You hear him settle behind you, armoured knees hitting the ground with a dull thump as his hands, warm and rough, ease your thighs apart, holding them wide.
Fingers lazily circle you’re already swollen clit as he continues. “You can cum, pretty girl. In fact, I want you to cum, and I want everyone outside to be able to hear all those pretty sounds you make when you do it.”
Outside, a muffled round of drunken cheering from several of his vode seems to punctuate his demand, causing your heart to quicken, and before you’re given time to really think about it, he’s opening you further, diving back in with his lips and tongue as his hands continue to hold your thighs apart.
For a moment, it’s just hot, heavy breaths, warm air tickling and brushing against your incredibly sensitive clit, the barest sensation and the heat enough to pull a breathless “mmm” from your lips, hips desperately pushing back against his waiting mouth.
You both know that you’re not going to last long, so Fox takes time to relish each moment he spends in between your thighs, every movement of his tongue and lips deliberate and controlled. The firm muscle of the flat of his tongue pressing against you is neither frantic nor fast, but it urges and demands with an almost maddening precision. The slightest role of his tongue over the bud as his lips pull you into his mouth nearly does you in, turning small, gasping whimpers into “oh please I fuck I please,” without any regard to the level of your voice.
Fox hums a response, and after that, you’re done, tipped over the edge by just the slightest nudge as if you had been clinging to it by your fingertips, and were now free falling.
You only come back to yourself when you feel fingernails raking up your trembling thighs, and Fox’s low, husky voice as he stares up at you.
“Mm, good,” he murmurs, running a finger through your sensitive folds just to watch you tremor.
He rises to his feet, and you’re not sure what you’re expecting him to do, if anything. Your mind is so addled by your orgasm that it comes completely unanticipated.
A quick, stinging swat lands against your ass, calloused fingers caressing over the skin as soon as it begins to heat beneath the palm of his hand. It makes you let out of rather undignified, surprised squeak, hands instinctively trying to move to cover yourself, but of course, they’re not going anywhere. The unforgiving metal of the binders cooley nipping at your skin as you strain being a good enough reminder of that.
“But I think you can do better.”
There’s the familiar sound of his codpiece being unclipped, a small clang as it hits the floor and is kicked away without consequence. Fox lets out a low groan, the only evidence to suggest that he’s nearly as affected as you are as he pulls himself free of his blacks, taking his hard length into his hand.
Your head drops to the desk, which is met with an immediate tsk of disapproval, Fox threading his fingers through your hair as he tugs it back up, pulling just enough to ensure that the tingle is painful, a reprimand as sharp as his words.
“Keep your head up, princess,” he orders sternly. “I want everyone to hear the sounds you make when I fuck you.”
He glides his cock through your wet folds, pausing to tease a few circles around your clit with the head as he continues. “And I want everyone to know how good I make you cum.”
The head of his cock lightly slaps against your clit, punctuating his words and causing the already overly sensitive nerves to spark and tingle. The whine that leaves your parted lips is a needy, pitiful thing.
You hear his low, throaty chuckle as he backs off, nudging the glistening head of his cock between your parted lips, smoothly lining himself up at your entrance. With one drawn out, controlled roll of his hips, he’s sinking into you, hands coming to grasp your hips as your tight, warm heat clenches around him.
Once he’s fully seated himself, feeling your walls fluttering around him, he moves, adjusting his angle in several quick, sharp snaps of his hips as he gages your response. When he finds the angle that has you crying out the loudest, and he’s satisfied that his cock insistently nudges against your G spot with every thrust, he begins to move in earnest.
Fox sets an even, measured pace, pulling back only to thrust back in with more power and intensity behind the insistent movement of his hips, cock pressing against all of those spots that need to be touched, caressed, and stretched for him.
Only when it starts to build inside you, because really, after you’ve already came from the talents of his skilled tongue, it really doesn’t take much to bring you back up, only once you start moaning and writhing beneath him does the rhythm change, not stopping, but slowing considerably as his fingers grasp at your hips, pulling you against him and keeping you still despite your squirming and protests.
You can feel his armour plates digging against your skin as he moves, the cold, unforgiving plastoid in combination with the hot slick of skin on skin as he firmly presses your hips against him is dizzying, and sends your head spinning with each gentle pulse of his throbbing cock.
He holds you there, keeping your ass pressed flush against his pelvis, only allowing small, controlled ruts of his hips that brush his cock against your walls, his form radiating patience and authority as he looms over you, watching as you mercilessly struggle for him to give you more than what he’s allowing.
Your hips try to push back, to do anything, but without being able to brace your hands, you’re not getting anywhere fast at all, and your struggle to gain any kind of leverage ends with you throwing your head back, letting out a high-pitched, frustrated whine as you look back at your tormentor, who watches with an almost impassive expression, eyes dark.
He sweeps your hair over your shoulder, littering a trail of hot kisses and sharp bites along the exposed column of your throat as he moves to your ear.
“Got something to say, meshla?” He coos condescendingly, nuzzling his nose against your neck and letting out a warm breath that sends goosebumps down your spine.
Under the full weight of his attention, he manages to scatter the few strings of coherent words that your brain was trying to piece together into something useful. All you can do is moan helplessly, feebly pushing back against him in an attempt to get him to move in vain.
“Hm,” he muses, and you feel the brief scraping of teeth as he runs them along your shoulder. “Guess not. Maybe I’ll just stay here, until you can figure out how to use your pretty mouth to tell me what you want.”
You know what he wants, and it only takes one small, barely there nudge of his hips for it to come spilling out of you, with minimal protest or fight.
“Please, sir, please,” you beg, both cheeks and eyes burning at how unsteady your voice sounds. “Please fuck me.”
“Ah,” he pretends to come to the understanding and that bastard, you don’t have to look at him to know that there’s a devilish smirk on his face as one of his hands leaves your hips, dipping to run along your inner thigh.
“Understood,” he says, voice as short and crisp as if he’s just barking an order to one of his troopers.
With that, he withdraws, unsheathing himself so slowly that every inch of him drags along your walls as he pulls out. Then, without warning, grasping your hip tightly, he slams back into you, pushing against your tightness and pulling you back onto him at the same time. His pace is now brisk, unyielding, and unwaveringly steady as he impales you on his cock, letting out low, breathy sounds, pausing to listen to the mules and moans that leave you in response.
As soon as he starts hitting someplace deep, quick and primal and constant, your back is arching, your ability to form any coherent words seemingly depleted.
Or at least, that’s what you think, until his hand, that had up until this point been squeezing and massaging the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, moves in between your legs, fingers expertly catching on your clit, circling, pressing, and the occasional tap against the overly sensitive bud that has you gasping and jolting in place.
“Fox,” you whimper desperately, hips wriggling even though there’s nowhere to go. “Please.”
Whether you’re saying please to beg him to stop because you can’t, it’s too much, or you’re saying please because you want, you need him to never stop, to keep going because the attention he’s lavishing on your clit combined with the delicious way he’s filling and stretching you on his cock feels so wonderfully good is unclear.
The decision is quickly taken out of your hands when Fox, evidently seeing how close you are, abruptly adjusts his angle, redirecting his focus yet again to your G spot, hips rolling against you as he targets it with small, precise and shallow thrusts.
“Be a good girl,” he murmurs, hand releasing your hip to rake his fingernails down your spine. “Cum,” he orders, giving your clit another tap before he continues his tantalizing circles. “Cum for me.”
You throw your head back, spine contorting as you arch, only vaguely aware of the desk digging into your ribs as you cum, eyes squeezing shut and walls clamping down on him as some sound that you don’t even begin to hear nor control is ripped from your throat.
Only then does his pace falter and does he pull you back onto him to bury himself to the hilt within you, cold armour plating firmly pressing against your ass and your thighs, as he lets out a long, low rumble as he stills within you, spilling his release within your warm, convulsing heat.
You’re aware of your head falling against the desk, finally too exhausted to keep it up as your body trembles with aftershocks. You’re aware of his hand, soothing as it strokes through your hair. You’re aware of him slowly easing himself out, you think you might make a small sound at the loss, judging by his low chuckle, but you’re not sure.
You only really begin to engage with the world again when you feel the rush of liquid leaving your core, causing you to let out a small gasp.
“Shh, little one, s’okay,” Fox murmurs, gathering the mix of his and your release that glistens on your folds with his fingers, slowly pushing it back inside, causing you to whimper.
He guides your legs back into your panties and skirt with tender hands, pulling you to your feet and reaching around you to button up your top.
It’s only when he’s about to steer you out of the room that you realize.
“Fox?” You say with a frown, raising a questioning eyebrow. “Aren’t you gonna, you know, undo the binders?”
He looks at you, hands occupied with snapping his codpiece back into place.
“No,” he responds shortly. “You still instigated a fight. I at least have to play off the charade that I’m taking you back to HQ.”
He sets his helmet back on his head, and even though you can no longer see his face, you know that there’s amusement in his eyes, because even though this was your plan, he still has the last laugh.
“This is still a punishment, and considering I’m letting you off the hook in terms of having to pay a fine, it’s a rather generous alternative, don’t you think, Meshla?” He reminds you lowly, voice clear even through his helmet modulator. “Get moving,” he orders, nudging you forward impatiently.
your mouth drops open as the noise from outside slowly filters into your ears.
He’s about to make you walk through the bar.
Your wrist still in binders as he escorts you out.
Past many of his vode.
With his cum still leaking out of you and the fresh bite marks that he scattered across your neck and shoulders like ornaments.
They’ll take one look at you, and even if they hadn’t managed to hear some of what was going on, which, judging by the dryness in your throat, would be a complete miracle of the force, they’ll know exactly what you did with the Marshall commander whom they all serve under and fuck, the burning twinge of humiliation should not effortlessly combine with some sort of excitement, but it does.
Your cheeks flush, and it takes all of your willpower to start shuffling your feet forward.
Well played, Commander. Well played indeed.
#commander fox x reader#marshall commander fox#commander fox#commander fox x you#star wars fanfiction#star wars fanfic#sw fanfiction#sw fanfic#the clone wars fanfiction#tcw fanfic#star wars smut#fanfiction#Reader#x reader#reader insert#fem reader#female reader#x female reader#the coruscant guard#coruscant guard
59 notes
·
View notes
Text
Tales of Squandered Potential
Oh hello again everyone who follows me for my Star Wars ranting!
So! Tales of the Empire. The Hat Man is at it again.
Episodes 1-3 : The Path of Boredom
As expected, all of the Morgan stuff was not my thing. She was boring in Ahsoka, she was boring here. The entirety of the three episodes just hammered home "this lady is angry" in a way that felt overdone because there is no arc. There's no growth, no interest, no nothing. It all just feels like Filoni trying to retroactively make his one dimensional character that gets killed off in the stupidest way possible feel super badass. However because we know that she gets killed in the stupidest way possible, everything falls flat and none of it feels earned. It also doesn't actually answer any of the many many questions that Ahsoka raised about her. She's just there, standing in front of a fire. That's all she does.
Thrawn is there for all of about two seconds, and every moment of it is painful, because here's the thing. WE KNOW WHAT THRAWN WAS UP TO AT THIS TIME!!! We have the book that explains all of Thrawn's many exploits as an admiral. This is only more evidence for the idea that Filoni has never actually picked up any of the canon Thrawn books. Which we kinda already knew, but this is all but confirmation. As I've previously said, and will continue saying, Filoni needs to contextualize Thrawn as a 100% big bad otherwise his Heir to the Empire fanfilm won't actually feel earned, so he is systematically destroying any and all nuance that Thrawn has had to make sure that new viewers only ever see him as an unredeemable evil.
And I know that there are a lot of you out there who are holding out for the possibility that this is all a misdirect by Thrawn! That this is all part of his grand plan to go back and help the Ascendency, and that he's lying to everyone about his intentions. But the sad truth is that Filoni doesn't give a rats ass about anything other than cartoonishly evil Thrawn which means we're never getting Eli, or Karyn, or Hammerly or any of the characters from the six fantastic canon books that Timothy Zahn so lovingly created. That was made very clear with Filoni's prioritization of Admiral Pellaeon, who for those who don't know is actually in the new canon Thrawn books too! He wasn't just left behind in Legends, Zahn brought him back into canon too! But again, being the Legends fanboy that he is, Filoni doesn't care about where Pellaeon should be canonically, so instead he's just shoehorned into the episode for no other reason then Filoni likes him.
Episodes 4-6 : The Barriss Content
Soooooo, why didn't Barriss get a full fucking season to herself??? I get the idea behind the 15 minute episodes, but it really makes it hard to tell any sort of cohesive story. It works far better as a snapshot of a couple of days in someone's life. So unfortunately, while I did enjoy them, Barriss's episodes felt really rushed and I found it really hard to tell when things took place. How long was she at the Inquisitor training center? Was it a day? Was it a month? Really would have been interested in actually seeing the inner workings but it all has to get brushed over in favor of her becoming an Inquisitor. A seemingly intentionally not named Inquisitor which makes me feel like they've run out of early Inquisitor names. Unless there's a trial period before you get a proper number? I don't know it was just one of those things that niggled at me. Another thing that niggled at me (which was also mentioned by the wonderful artist @stealingpotatoes, go give her art some love) is that her design is kinda boring as fuck? Like, you have Birdy-Mc-Skullface right there with such a neat design and yet all Barriss gets is a motorcycle helmet with very slight voice modulation.
But I digress. The fact that Barriss commits herself to the Inquisitorium via a ritualized fight to the death, and then goes "wait, the red light saber wielding, all black wearing, Darth Vader serving inquisitors aren't here to help people?" before immediately bailing is so funny to me. This girl cannot for the life of her commit herself to an organization without becoming disillusioned within 1-3 business days.
I'm not sure how I feel about it all being about Lyn? I was very much rooting for her to totally die in the ice shafts instead of what felt like a very last minute redemption arc?
Though speaking of the last episode...HOLY SHIT OLD BARRISS IS FUCKING HOT. *coughs* Excuse me. Anyway. I would have loved to see more of what happened in between eps 5 and 6. Seeing how she and the jedi kid escaped the planet, and where the two of them did after than in the very hostile Empire would have been a facinating story watch play out. Also, who is this female friend that Barriss is referring to when she sends the child away? Is it Ahsoka??? If it is...WHY WOULD YOU NOT SHOW US THAT REUNION??? Like I get the whole point of this is to set up Barriss to make the jump to live action like every single other Filoni character is curseddestined to do, but also you've had people waiting years to find out what happened to Barriss and it feels like they burned their biggest story possibility on a throwaway reference. Did she find Ahsoka? Did Ahsoka find her? When did they find each other? Was it pre-Rebellion? Was it after Ahsoka was already functioning as Fulcrum? Given that we now know the Fulcrum name originated from Anakin, did Barriss recognize the name and seek this mystery person out? I don't know it just feels again like more wasted potential.
Final Thoughts
Fuck this animation is good now! Can we get a new writer?
Like, even for the shit I was annoyed by, the entire show just looks fabulous. It makes me really really wish that ANYONE other than Filoni could make content in this style. Let the writers of Jedi: Fallen Order and Survivor do a Merrin episode or a baby Cal episode. Or the people doing The Acolyte, let them do Tales of the High Republic! Let anyone other than Filoni have a chance to create within the world of Star Wars animated content.
#as always my ask box is open#i really do love talking about this#so if you've got thoughts you want to share or questions for me#i am always more than happy to respond#dave filoni critical#tales of the empire#rambles#morgan elsbeth#thrawn#barriss offee#star wars
60 notes
·
View notes
Note
Oh hello me again 👀
I had another idea lmao, this one's a little dumber but here me out 🙏
Joshdub x Reader teasing each other over accents/comparing accents (literally any accent I don't mind, I just need Josh content, literally my second favorite of The Boys and second favorite Australian lol)
STOP I LOVE THIS AWERHJRNWNRBSNSN ; thank you for requesting! hope you enjoy ; your reqs r literally the best lol ; also I'll have that foolish one you sent me up soon I just need to tweak some stuff
JOSHDUB ; accents
summary ; you and Josh like to bully each other over your accents
warnings ; language, excessive DubDaddy running gag/joke idfk
word count ; 646
masterlist
"Bro, shut the fuck up, no way you're trying to diss me with your biscuits and tea looking self"
"Says you, scorpion fucker!"
"What the hell is happening right now?" Mully questions with a slight laugh, looking over to Juicy, Eddie, Gabby, and Narrator.
Juicy answers his question, "They're fighting over their accents"
The four watch as you and Josh continue roasting and arguing with each other, throwing insults every which way.
You were all staying at Juicy's house for a large sleepover-party, currently located in the living room. Prior to the playful argument, you'd all been watching a dumb action movie, which got paused because you all agreed that it was too boring and wanted to talk instead. The girls, minus Gabby, had left to go pick up some pizza and wings, considering none of you had eaten dinner yet, and it was already seven in the evening.
Gabby laughs, hearing another cruel insult escape your mouth. "When are the girls getting back with the pizza?"
Narrator looks down at his watch, "Hopefully within the next 15 minutes before they strangle each other"
"You're a cock sucker. You literally speak in gibberish"
"Says you! A few sandwiches short of a picnic. What's that even mean?"
"Okay, and I'm supposed to know what chuck a sickie and fire up the barbie mean? Quiet yourself down, Josh"
Juicy snickers, a hand loosely covering his mouth as he looks away momentarily. Eddie laughs, cheering you on in his native language across the room, Gabby under his arm. Mully can't help but laugh with Narrator beside him, both of them unable to hold back their amusement. It wasn't necessarily what you were speaking was funny, it was the tone and why you were fighting that got them.
"This is the stupidest thing we've ever argued over" Josh chuckles, "That includes that time where you tried to gaslight me into thinking you didn't call me DubDaddy"
"Again, that wasn't gaslighting! I didn't call you DubDaddy!"
"Why do you say daddy like that?" He laughs, "You accentuate the a like an au sound"
"It's just how I speak! Say tuna"
"Tuna" He speaks, pronouncing it like ch-una.
"See?!" You exclaim, "You're the one talking weird"
"You say tuna like t-ew-nah!" He counterclaims
"Yeah, okay" You playfully roll your eyes and cross your arms, leaning back into the couch. You look over at Juicy, then Eddie and Gabby, then Mully and Narrator. "I don't say it like that, right?"
They're silent, failing to hide the smiles tugging at the corners of their lips.
"You're fucking kidding me!"
"To be fair!-" Juicy quickly speaks, "You both sound dumb. Mully does too."
"Ha!" You laugh, looking at Josh with a smug smile.
"What the hell?" Mully questions, looking to Juicy, "When was I involved in them?"
Juicy shrugs, "Since you decided to be Australian, brother"
"Dawg, you can't choose to be a certain nationality," Eddie laughs, using his free hand to rub the T-section between his eyes and over his nose.
"Are we not going to talk about the DubDaddy thing?" Mully asks, refocusing the conversation. "I don't remember this happening"
"Shut the fuck up" You quickly reply, moving your legs around to sit criss-cross on the couch.
"No, no, no. Tell us about that" Juicy giggles.
Josh quickly explains before you can tell your side of the story. "We were on VR Minecraft, after that 24 hour challenge-"
"I didn't call you DubDaddy!"
"-And we were trying to at least get to the Nether, right? They fell into a pit of lava, logged out while screaming DubDaddy into their mic, wanting me to help them or get water to save them from the lava pit they were in" Josh chuckles, seeing your annoyed expression.
"I did not call him that, I swear on my life"
"I don't think anyone's believing you, Y/n"
#lowkeyrobin#content creator x reader#joshdub x reader#joshdub#dubdaddy#gender neutral reader#gn reader#gn! reader#they/them reader#british!reader
69 notes
·
View notes
Note
could i have some stu x fem!reader going camping hcs? like it’s him, reader, the rest of the group just going camping and having a good time :))
𝐜𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬!! :>
pairing: implied stu macher x fem!reader
a/n: I LITERALLY LOVE YOU FOR REQUESTING THIS OHFOHDEGKIGTPJUPKHOJDTGQRHOYYU
i cannot express how much i fucking think about this group. there will be plenty of the ‘gang’ content coming soon!! picturing them doing the stupidest shit together is just, AH.
anyways anon, thank you for your request that made me so ridiculously happy lol (ENJOY!!)
UPDATE: YO. THIS HAS BEEN IN MY DRAFTS FOR ABOUT A YEAR AND ITS SLIGHTLY UNFINISHED BUT I’LL JUST GIVE IT TO Y’ALL ANYWAY
warnings: harsh language, randy thinking he’s literally gordon ramsey
• Boy oh boy, summertime had finally came around once again. Giving you all a pretty good idea of what was coming soon..
CAMPING!
• Okay, okay.. this hadn’t originally been apart any of your guys’ plans, but all of your parents were stubborn and wanted you to spend more time together.
• And apparently camping was just the right way to do so? Whatever. It’s not like any of you were ever going to win if you tried to protest on going each year. You lot VS a ton of parents? Fuck. It would never work.
• The agreed arrangement had been Stu, Billy, Randy, Sidney, Tatum and yourself to all go camping for atleast one week during summer break.
• Of course Billy was always the one trying to creep his way out of this shitty plan. It had been going on for so many years that the rest of y’all stopped trying at this point. But Billy? Oh, he was pretty damn adamant on faking whatever dumbass illness he could think of.
• You all made bets on who he would call that year, trying to convince that person on how very ‘poorly’ he was doing.
“I can’t go. I have a cold.”
“It’s July..”
“I HAVE A COLD.”
• His dad ended up dragging him out of the house and right into the van Stu’s parents bought him specifically for this occasion.
• After checking you guys had everything packed and ready to go, you were off into the hills!
• It was an interesting road trip to say the least, hours of Randy complaining he had to take a piss, plus Billy whining about how he didn’t wanna be here.. yeah.. an ideal three hours, huh? Jesus.
• The minute you guys arrive, Randy instantly runs over to a tree a little further away from you guys and pulls down his pants, urinating onto the land.
• Tatum always tends to start an argument and tells him how fucking disgusting he is, but he insists that she shuts her mouth and waits until it’s HER turn to be forced to have her bodily functions take over.
“Yeah, yeah, it’s all fun and games until you have to take a dump in the bushes!!”
“AS IF!” Tatum squealed.
“Cut the bullshit, Alicia. You know it’s gonna happen sooner or later.” Billy chimed in.
• You insist on everyone taking a little walk through the woods, just to get familiar with the area once again.
• The rest of the gang agree and head on out with you, embracing the peaceful surrounding.
• You, Billy and Stu slowly walk side by side as the other three are already way ahead of you, arguing over the dumbest shit once again.
• Randy and Tatum always argued non fucking stop everytime you all went camping. Sidney would just awkwardly tag along, trying to change the subject to literally anything else..
• The three ask for permission to go back to camp, seeing as Tatum had made the poor choice of wearing her cute little white boots, though unfortunately they had heels.
• This just meant more peace and quiet for yourself, Billy and Stu. You’d see your other friends later, of course. But a tad bit of extra time with your boyfriend and another one of your closest friends wasn’t going to hurt.
• You guys returned for sun down, as spending all night in the goddamn woods of all places would be rather idiotic of you.
• Each and every one of your stomach’s began to growl, so Stu finally decided to whip out the grill!
• He had packed some hotdogs and burgers, ready to be cooked as soon as possible. Randy also brought along some snacks of course because you know, it’s Randy lmao.
• Another argument breaks out, but this time it’s between both Randy and Stu. Supposedly, Stu was in charge of bringing topping and sauces for the hotdogs. (Of course he had to forget it..)
“Aw, fuck this!” Randy said with a mouthful of food, throwing the remaining piece of his hotdog at a nearby tree.
“NOOOO!” Stu yelped. “What the fuck, man! You ruined a perfectly good hotdog!!”
Randy scoffed. “STU.. MY MOUTH FEELS DRIER THAN A DEAD WOMAN’S VAGINA.. THIS IS SO PLAIN. YOU DIDN’T EVEN BRING PICKLES DUDE..”
…
“Sorry but who the fuck puts pickles on a hotdog?”
“WHERE’S THE FLAVOUR IN THIS PIECE OF SHIT? IT’S BLAND. PAINFULLY BLAND.”
You pinched the bridge of your nose, seemed like Randy was having his Gordon Ramsey moment.
• After drunk Randy’s constant complaining and Stu almost losing it over the fact you guys decided you’d make s’mores tomorrow instead of the present night, it didn’t take long until everyone decided to crash for the night. You all had proper tents built up, despite what y’all went through to get them that way..
“No, no, you’re gonna do it wrong. You see, you gotta make sure you’ve put the peg in the right place first.” Billy reminded Stu, trying his hardest to set up their tent. He knew his sleep was going to benefit from this of course, so that was the only reason why he began caring at this point.
“I got it!” Stu smiled, attempting to smack the peg with his mini hammer.
“THAT WAS MY FINGER YOU FU-”
Billy was sure he’d be sweating bullets for days after fully setting up the camp for everyone. He truly didn’t think it would be so hard, but much to his dismay, he was proven wrong.
• Randy and Tatum flat out refused to share a tent together, so they gave Billy the hassle of making two separate tents instead. Whereas Billy and Stu had agreed on sleeping in a tent together, whilst you and Sidney were more than happy to do the exact same thing.
• The tents were rather thin, causing everyone else to hear what was going on inside each tent. Including Randy letting out the odd bit of gas here and there or him sleep talking about ‘Prom Night’ with Jamie Lee Curtis.
• As the sunlight crept its way into everyone’s tents, you all began to stir and awaken. Morning was here. And you were all going to have to get up and start the day.
• Today was rock climbing! Something that had split opinions from the majority of you. Those like yourself, Stu and Tatum found it fun, but others such as Billy, Sidney and Randy weren’t too keen on it.
“You’re all such pussies, man. It’s safe. I don’t know why the three of you complain about it every damn year.” Stu remarked, his attention on your other three friends who really couldn’t be bothered to participate in such an activity right now.
“Please. You only like it because you’re tall and fast enough to catch yourself before you fall.” Billy snorted.
#scream#scream headcanons#headcanons#stu macher x reader#billy loomis#stu macher#sidney prescott#randy meeks#tatum riley#x reader#reader#ghostface#matthew lillard#skeet ulrich#neve campbell#jamie kennedy#rose mcgowan#scream fandom#ghastlyfilters#camping
56 notes
·
View notes
Text
𝐋𝐞𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐛𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞.
Summary- Steve now has the floor to fix your desperate attempt.
or
part two because steve is an idiot.
Warnings- reader is described with female attributes, food is mentioned (not in a triggering way), cuss words, a little angst?, VERY BAD WRITING PLEASE,
W/C- 5.4k
A/N: the long-awaited part 2 LMFAOO😭 literally quit and got lazy for the ending, and i couldn't find pics that match this fics aesthetic so. ALSO this is such a mess like be careful reading, you're gonna get confused. and i guess this could also be read as a stand-alone i think but yeah enjoy this is a literary piece of shit.
✦ Regard the links below about S5 of ST.
Usually when the world turns to hell, you –and Hop– are the voices of reason. Leading the group to safety, planning every move and hit. Following behind you was never a question of hesitation. Trusting your judgment was never an unpopular opinion –hell even Hopper took your word when he didn’t trust himself enough to lead; and that was saying a lot. Hopper is one hell of a stubborn brick. But that goes to say you were too. And if the odds don’t yield in your favor? If the tides don’t crash onto your shore?
The sky would fall, Steve thinks.
You always knew what you were doing. It’s fascinating. Even if you were in the wrong, things always go your way. Following behind you never came with a side of uncertainty. He never had to think twice when seeing your determined face.
But this time, it was the visible exhaustion evident on your face that faltered him. Steve being scared to follow you had him reeling in the fact that maybe, this argument wasn’t just a fluke.
It’s been a few weeks since that night at the pool. You’ve been radio silent and unresponsive to all the calls and ‘CODE REDs’ that Steve's been sending you. As if you've gone off grid with Murray. The second you walked out Steve sprang to his feet and ran after you to fix things, hopefully to try and hash things out and understand what it was that was so wrong. But he stopped; Refrained. His hand lingered on the door knob contemplating whether following you was a good idea or not.
It was always a good idea. Why is it so different now? Why is everything so different nowadays?
Perhaps it's because, deep down, he was scared of the idea that you would be angry with him for loving him. It terrified him greatly. Not because the idea of being with you was dreadful –but because he was aware that his query was really wishful thinking. The picture of you ever returning his longing was too expensive, one he could never afford or win. Steve assured himself deep in his bones that your love is the one thing he could never be deserving of. But what is he to do now?
It’s been so frustrating, especially because he’d usually go to you in these sorts of cases. You always knew everything about everyone. He’d always tease you about being a little snitch, saying you were the one to spread rumors in school. You always argued back saying you weren’t a gossip; ‘Never the rat, always the dog’ you’d say. Loyal and reliable. That’s who you were.
But obviously you’re not very reliable right now. So Steve got ready and made his way to the second most reliable person he knows.
Dustin.
“You’re fucked.”
“Alright, Sherlock, thanks for the wisdom.” Steve exhales sarcastically before leaning back into his chair.
“No seriously Steve, I've seen her blank people for the stupidest things. She’s not gonna talk to you for at least a month by the sound of it.” Dustine purses his lips and shrugs.
Steve groans and closes his eyes. He knew that. He knew you were the most stubborn person he’s had the luxury of befriending. Always ignoring the people who would probably waste your time, laughing at all the guys who have tried –and failed– at asking you out. I mean for fucks sake he’s been one of the people to annoy you during school with Tommy and Carol. He’d be lying if he said it wasn’t a fond memory.
“I know man, I just…” He opens his eyes and looks down at the table.
Dustin furrows his brows when he sees how distraught Steve looks right now. He knew the both of you were close. If he and Steve weren’t together he’d probably find him with you. You always came by the store, picked him and Steve up and dropped them off, helped Steve with all his girl problems when Robin and him were fed up. It seemed like you could never get enough of each other. You guys couldn’t be more different though; the two of you, opposite sides of the same coin, but attached by a string.
But even then, he wasn’t as worried as Steve is right now when Lucas ignored him when he stole his limited edition copy of the Swamp Thing. And he and Lucas have years of friendship on the two of you.
“It’s just, I’ve never seen her so tired. Like I've inconvenienced her with all my shit,” Steve exhales deeply as he leans his elbows on the table, rubbing his hands down his face. “Fuck, I don’t blame her if she quits talking to me for good.”
Dustin looks at his friend in sympathy, “Don’t say that dude, you just gotta charm her, it’s not the end of the world-”
“Dustin she’s not like that, man! She’s not one to be ‘charmed’, definitely not one to forgive an asshole that's been nothing but a shit friend.” The hands on his face fall down on the wood as he crossed them.
“I fucked up. Real bad.” He quaked.
He shakes his head, as if trying to wake himself up from a bad dream. Steve knows he’s being dramatic but he can’t help it. He’s never felt so deeply about a person before. You matter to him, more than most. You’re intimidating and beautiful and so far out of his sad reach.
It takes Dustin no less than 8 Mississippi’s to understand what’s really happening. He’s had an idea in the past and teased Steve about it. The whole group thought something was going on between the two of you but they never questioned it; last time they did they got an earful from you. But Dustin remembers the way Steve’s face fell at your loud and definite “No way!”
He scrutinizes Steve for a second longer before carefully choosing his words longer. “Steve…Are you really still in love with Nancy?”
Steve raises his eyes and peers at his friend. Was he still in love with his ex-girlfriend? He inhales deeply. Steve thinks about the time spent between the two of you. Not a day goes by that he doesn’t laugh at your quick quips or the way you tease Mike. Not an hour passes by that he doesn’t think about where you are or what you’re doing. Not a minute or second that he doesn’t think about holding your hand and pulling you close.
But he hates that, he hates the feeling of vulnerability. It's what got him dumped by Nancy so why cherish the feeling that broke him. And it isn’t like you were very mushy about your feelings either, preferring to keep them safe and close to you.
But by God did he feel safe with you. You were never one to meddle about with feelings, always preferring to speak your mind no matter how controversial. You were honest –and vulgar– and so outspoken, always saying what others were too scared to. He wasn’t short of your honesty either –nor your kindness. He calls –you’ll be there in 10. He needs advice? You’re writing down a thesis paper about his problems. His parents are bothering him?
Your door is open and unlocked, baking cookies with his favorite movie rented out, waiting to be played.
Steve opens your unlocked door slowly as he walks through the small foyer. Your house is small but warmly lit, giving it a feel he’s never felt anywhere before; Home. That’s the feeling. He calls out your name as he takes his shoes off. There’s a harmonic sound playing throughout the house; To Cut A Long Story Short by Spandau Ballet. This was the mixtape he gifted you. A smile pinches at his face at the revelation.
“In the kitchen!” He hears you call from the corner. Steve’s shoulders physically relax at the honeyed voice.
He walks in routine to where you reside in the kitchen, waiting on popcorn and rolling cookies onto a tray. “Hey, trouble.”
You turn your head at the greeting, a small smile already dancing on your lips. “Stevie.” You nod your head in acknowledgement at the boy.
“What’re you doing?”
Your head turns back to the concoction of dough in front of you. “Making cookies; You’re favorite, right?”
Steve’s eyes widen slightly at your answer. You’re baking? For him? Because he was upset about his parents? Has he had anyone do something so kind? That’s a stupid question, especially as your lovely character is right in front of him. His heart warms and picks up in rate at the same time. It seems to do that a lot whenever he’s around you.
“Yeah..” He pauses before releasing a chuckle. “You know, you’re not as tough as you look right?”
You scoff, keeping your eyes trained at the ball rolling in between your palms. “Shut it or it’ll be your head I shove into the oven.”
He laughs. After the return of his parents his face has been in a permanent scowl. But the second he’s in your area –around you– you’ve managed to flip his mood in an instance.
“Yes ma’am,” He walks to stand beside you, his back to the counter and his arms propped up behind him. “Need help?”
The tray is half full with delicious smelling chocolate rounds. “No, it’s okay. You just sit there and look pretty.” You smirk in his direction.
“Hah, funny.” He jokes flatly.
The sound of the microwave timer rings just as you roll the last ball. “Would you get that?” You wipe your oily hands with a red kitchen rag. Steve gets up to open up the microwave. He’s hit with a wave of the salty smell of popcorn. He takes the hot bag out carefully and sets it down on the counter. His head looks around to find an empty bowl to pour the kernels into.
After setting the tray full of soon-to-be cookies in the oven, you wish to start cleaning up. However your eyes find Steve bent down, assuming to find a bowl. Before you can go help him, he’s already on his way to stand up –before bumping his head on the edge of the counter.
“Shit!”
You snort before letting out a heavily mocking laugh. Steve looks at your standing form while he rubs the back of his head. “Anyone told you, you’re a sadist? Shit man.”
You giggle slightly before replying, “Once or twice, lost count.” You walk over to help him up, offering your hand out. “You hit it bad?”
He takes your outstretched aid and climbs up. “Nah, winded me though.” His hand comes back up to rub at the spot.
“Let me check.”
Steve watches as you step behind him. You run your fingers over the throbbing spot and massage his scalp. He completely misses the fact that you're touching his hair; No one’s allowed to touch his hair. Thank God you were behind him or you would’ve seen his face turning an embarrassing tomato red. The feeling of you behind him, chest pressed against his back while your soft, nimble fingers soothe the ache on his head has him feeling the butterflies in his stomach flaring up and tingling. His palms start to sweat from the nerves of your figure so close to him and wipes them on his jeans. Get a grip man!
“Still hurt?” Your voice speaks up behind him.
It takes a second for him to register that you’re asking him a question. “U-uh no- no, I’m okay.” He stutters out.
You spill a knowing smile. “Good.” You make your way to his line of sight again. “If you needed a bowl, you could’ve just asked.” You tease with a smirk and a quirk of your brows.
He clears his throat nervously as he watches you bend down to the left of where he was and grab a yellow bowl. “Here.” You hand it over to him. He raises his arm to take your outstretched arm. His fingers brush over yours delicately; it was electrifying.
Your eyes flit over to his glued on you. The corners of his mouth turn up gently. “Thanks.”
In that short moment the two of you shared, your breath was stolen. Sometimes you forget how truly handsome your friend is. And everytime you’re reminded, your heart stops. But not in an agonizing way; more like it realizes the force of feelings it’s up against. A tide so big you can’t swim your way up.
Your bodies stay still in front of each other, just staring at one another. A wave of realization washes over Steve quickly. Just for a quick second no longer –maybe because he had an idea of what exactly are the flames that envelope his body every time he’s near you, he’s just never entertained the idea. Liking you –scratch that– loving you? He’s just about throwin himself to a suicide mission. Just as the tide goes out, the insecurity settles in.
But right now? With you looking at him with your glistening, starry eyes? As you bake his favorite dessert and take his mind off his shitty parents? He tries to amuse his scorching feelings.
Of course Steve wasn’t in love with Nancy. God why would he be when you were right there?
He chuckles humorously, “No.” His eyes zone in on a scratch of paint on the wood. “But, there’s no way I'll hurt someone like her,” He whispers as if the mere act would stop his heart, “Someone as angelic as she is, would never soil her hands with someone like me.” He flies through the sentence, trying hard to not let the truth dig its claws further in.
Dustin looks at his friend in sympathy. He’s unsure of what to do or say to lift up Steve’s spirits. But Steve was wrong. Stupid wrong. Dustin’s seen the way you look at Steve; Like he strung up the moon and hung every star individually. He’s seen the way you unconsciously move toward Steve when a situation grows uncomfortable. Or the way you always seem to know what Steve was feeling or thinking just with a glance. It made the group sick, really. Well, before they started dating and crushing. But what you and Steve have? It rivals the most ancient love stories; Songs that didn’t make sense before all of a sudden click with just a glance at the two of you; Romance novels written about the two of you and movies fail to show what it is truly that makes love so magical.
“Steve,” Dustin stops and looks down gloomily; Adding to the dramatic pause, “I’ve never met someone more brainless and thick-headed than you.” Steve’s head shoots up, his face offended and ready to defend himself. “What?-”
“I mean seriously, did you inhale some hair spray this morning? You’re more stupid than usual –and that’s saying a lot.”
Steve’s brows continue to furrow in offense as the insults carry out. “Okay ditz, what’re you on about?-”
“She loves you, you idiot!”
Silence over takes the room like a bad plague. A ringing sound fills his ears as his widen eyes take in his friend. Before he lets out a laugh. Dustin’s determined face controls into one of confusion. “W-what are you laughing at?” Steve continues his heaved breaths. “Steve!”
“I’m sorry-” He wheezes. “I’m sorry but, aren't you supposed to be a genius?” He inhales deeply and regains himself. It was Dustin’s turn to be offended.
“I’m freaking serious man! Anyone with eyes can see how much she loves you!”
Steve rolls his eyes indecorously. “Cupid, listen-”
“No you listen!”
There's a moment of staggered silence before Dustin continues. “Holy shit do you ever shut up? Better yet– Do you ever stop and think twice before you speak? The whole reason you’re in this mess is because you’re a coward –a chicken; You talk all this big talk about getting all the ladies and scoring dates but, have you ever thought that the reason you’re going on these –stupid dates– is to distract yourself?” Dustin doesn’t give him half a second to reply- “No you didn’t, just like you don’t think before talking to the love of your life.” Dustin’s blazing because at this point he’s just spilling over words. He needs to end it, shove the knife a little deeper for the act to end.
“She’s hurt Steve. You hurt her.” Steve stiffens at the confession. “So are you going to do something about it, or are you going to sit her brooding like a James Dean wannabe?”
Steve bites his bottom lip, hard enough to draw blood as he contemplates his choices. He’s spent the better half of your friendship in agonizing longing, hoping –looking– for a sign. Anything that tells him or shows him that you might return the painful ache in his chest. Oh how he burned for you; ablaze with every touch and stare. But just as the oceans glisten, you somehow always smother the fire. He wonders what it means: the fact that you never let him destroy himself. It was different with everyone else. With Nancy he was practically left in smithereens; everyone else never bothered to tend to the fire. But you? You could always tell when he was about to boil over. Just on the verge of a major spill. You were healthy, and observant. Always managing his outbursts with careful and slow movements. Throwing water just as his temper tipped over the edge.
He needs to be your water. He needs to be there for you, just like you’ve always done. Like you always do.
Steve slams his hands on the table in tenacity. The action startled Dustin as he looked at a new man in front of him. “I’m gonna do something about it-”
Dustin stands up with the same amount of fervor and nods his head proudly. “Yeah, yeah!”
“I’m gonna fix this!” Steve pumps his hands excitedly by his side. Dustin copies Steve and slams his hands on the table. “Hell yeah, you are!” Dustin drums the table hysterically as if possessed with the spirit of John Bonham.
Steve whoops and yells running around the dining room. Dustin –just as excited– slaps his back whenever he passes. “I’m gonna do it. I’m gonna fix this– I’m going to tell her!”
Dustin’s just about ready to start calling everyone he knows to celebrate. Shit he feels like his mom. Steve’s already by the door slipping on his shoes. “Go get your girl Steve!” He grins, his dimple showing. Steve turns around just as he’s about out the door, and sends a confident, full toothed smile back.
••••••
You were lounging around on your couch eating a bowl of cereal when you heard the sound of a knock on your door. You place the bowl down and make your way to the wooden slab. It’s been a few days since the constant calls and house visits from Steve stopped so you were hopeful that he didn’t pick up his new favorite hobby again. The weeks that followed the argument were quiet. You didn’t realize how much of your time was spent with Steve and the group. You assumed Steve told the rest of them about your vow to silence when Nancy and Robin showed up with bags of snacks and a rented out movie, talking about a ‘girls day’. You were hesitant at first. Yes they were your friends –but they were also Steves. Nancy, ever the empath noticed your predicament and reassured you they were on your side. You let them in reluctantly; quickly changing to gratefulness when you realized how much fun you were having. It quickly became a routine between the three of you. The two of them however kept this a secret for your sake and it added to the appreciation. You were all getting so close and it was nice. All your time being spent with Steve had you missing out on getting to really know who they were. Nancy even confided in you about her problems with Jonathan; the distance and indifference. You understood her and even tried helping her, it was lovely. And Robin was just a breath of fresh air, her jokes and childish attitude gives you space to not be so tough all the time. You even find yourself doubled over laughing at her ridiculous quips during your weekly watches. It was fun, having friends to take your mind off things.
You open your door assuming to see either girl but you’re met with a bent down flop of hair breathing heavily.
“Steve?” You questioned in slight worry. “You okay?”
Your name gets called out in a deep wheeze. He stands up right as he takes in a couple of deep breaths.
“Listen– I know that you’re mad –believe me I’ve had my fair share of people calling me a jackass– but I want to make it right.” He gazes at you desperately. “Please.”
You rip your eyes away from his face as you think about your choices. It’s been a long time since the argument, and to be completely honest you were kind of over it. Just as Nancy confined in you; You fessed up and revealed the true nature of your and Steve's fight. To say the least Nancy wasn't impressed, nor was she amused. You thought she was going to be mad –or even excited– but you were met with a lecture: “If you believe a word out of Steve's mouth; my judgment of you has got to change.” She joked. “We even have bets going on to see how long the two of you would last.”
You thought she was absurd, denying everything she said –even though it made sense– you would never tell her that though. But her words ring around in your head like little cartoon birds. ‘Give it a shot. Be vulnerable.’ She coaxed. If shit goes wrong you are so taking that Rumors CD.
You prodded your cheek with your tongue before replying. “Get in.”
He lets out a grateful huff of air, one he was holding in. “Thank you.” You widen up the open door and let the boy in. He looks odd with hands fiddling together, like a scolded child standing in your walkway. He hazily remembers the night he walked into your house for the impromptu movie night. He ignores the voice in his head that nags: ‘This might not work’.
“You want something to drink?” You speak monotonously.
He snaps out of his reverie. Now's not the time to freeze.
“Uh- yeah- yes please, water.” He follows you to the kitchen
The tension is palpable, and it’s making Steve awfully nervous. Your back is facing towards him as you open the faucet and let it run before placing a glass cup underneath the stream. The memory comes back again, fast. He tries to find the comfort he once felt the last time he stepped in your house. Somehow it never left.
You leave the sink with a cold cup of water in your hand. He takes it from your wet hands softly, taking extra precaution not to graze your fingers. Steve quietly mumbles your name as you wipe your damp hands on the same red rag. You rip your eyes away from the distraction and set them on Steve.
“I..How are you?” He gulps.
You take a deep breath before replying. “Fine. You?”
“Good, good.” He nods his head as he rubs his thumb across his bottom lip and chin. A habit he does when he’s nervous.
You wrap your arms around your body protectively in hopes of perhaps shielding you away from the inevitable conversation. “Cut to the chase Harrington.” You grunted exasperatedly.
“I know I know! I just...Need to find the right words. I don’t wanna mess this up.” He whispered the last part but still audible enough for you to hear him. You always do.
“Mess what up? It was just a silly argument-” You furrow your brows in confusion.
“No it wasn’t! Nothing about it was silly –nothing about us is silly!” He exclaimed.
Your eyebrows fly to the top of your forehead. “Wha-”
He says your name in the same manner, “I’ve been an idiot. A complete and utter douchebag –but you know that so what's new.” He chuckles in a strangled tone, voice wobbly while he rubs his palms. You stood quiet as he took the microphone.
“The night at the pool wasn’t a mistake. It was everything I needed to open my eyes, to see how much of an idiot I’ve been. You…” Steve takes a second to gather his thoughts. To gather you into words. “Are everything. All the praying and wishing on stars to find someone who understood me. Who I can sit in silence with and it not feel excruciatingly uncomfortable. You’ve given me a home within a person.”
He’s staring into your eyes now with a feeling you can’t quite understand. But he strides gingerly towards your frame and unravels your arms, and holds your warm hands. You’re still observing him with very large eyes.
He’s being vulnerable?
He says your name is such confidence, totally different to the little boy who was just standing in your walkway all fidgety. “I cannot imagine a life with you not being there to yell at all the stupid people, especially the ones who miraculously passed their driving test.” This steals a little giggle from your shocked state. Steve continues. “There’s so much more to this but,” He pauses and closes his eyes while he inhales deeply. “I am not in love with Nancy.” He says. "And I'm sorry. I'm so sorry for the things I said. You were trying to help me –like always– and I was just being a dick. I’m so sorry.”
Hope fills your being and it’s suffocating, you question if you even like it. He’s speaking with such softness it equals the spring wind and with incredible certainty it rivals the most stubborn aristocrats.
“Huh, isn’t that something.” You choke up. Steve questions if he heard you. He did. He always does when it comes to you.
“Yeah it is.” he replies with a small smile and a pull with his interlocked hands, bringing you closer.
“You’ve been my calm in this shit storm and I’ve been an idiot to not realize that the only person I ever needed,” He stops for what you believe is for dramatic effect, “Was you. It's always been you. So in some way I was hoping to maybe be the calm in your life.”
Steve releases a shy grin and squeezes your hands in his lengthy ones before finishing his profession. He says your name one last time before- “I am an idiot. And that’s been proven to be true more times than we can count on our fingers. But I think the time that solidified it was when I tried convincing myself that I didn’t love you.”
You think your eyes are about to bulge out their sockets at the confession. He…loved you?
“Me?”
He gives you a knowing look. “I’m sorry, do you have a secret twin I don’t know about? Is this some shitty sequel to The Parent Trap?”
“Steve.”
“Sorry sorry.”
It’s taking a lot from you to swallow this huge pill. You’ve spent this whole time convincing yourself that he didn’t love you. That he couldn’t ever fathom thinking about you in a romantic sense. Now here he is, standing in front of you with his cheeky smile and bright eyes, telling you he loves you. You start to blink excessively, feeling the tsunami of tears advancing fast. God you hate crying, but maybe you’ll allow it this time. If Steve was an idiot, you better expect a simpleton of the year award in the mail soon. You feel the blobs of tears in front of your orbs as they start to fall down one by one.
This obviously panics Steve, you would rather stick forks in your eyes than cry.
“Oh my god, shit, was it something I said? I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to throw all of this at your face.” Steve is running around your kitchen to find tissues or a towel before he promptly kicks the table and drops the glass of water. “Shit! Shit shit shit!”
Tears forgotten when you start laughing jovially at the scene. You wipe your cheeks with knuckles as you breathe sharply.
“Steve.” You call out to his erratic form.
“I’m so sorry angel, this is a mess, I’ll fix it and then leave-”
“Steve.”
“I will buy you a whole new cup –scratch that– I’ll buy you whole brand new kitchen set-”
“Steve!”
He stops the run around the kitchen and stares at you and sees the teary smile you’re beautifully wearing. He gulps, “Yes?” He replies, still out of breath.
“I love you too.” You drag a finger furiously under your eye trying to stop the water works.
“Oh.” He croaks
“Yeah.”
“That’s, uh, that’s good, amazing actually, uh really great –hey stop doing that to your face.” He approaches you and draws your criminal hands away from your face in a caring manner. He replaces your angry fingers with his calloused ones, collecting your happy tears. You let him take care of you, caressing along the apples of your cheeks in content.
Steve’s buzzing with overwhelming love for you. He ponders how he lasted so long lying to himself. He wonders how long he’s spent hurting you, trying to forget the absolute force of beauty and grace you are. You were there from the start, in front of him with all your anger and unconditional kindness –that he didn’t deserve– but you still chose to stay. And fuck if he messes this second chance? He can’t think of a way to thank the considerate hand that’s giving him this fortune.
He holds your glowing face in his nurturing hands and gazes into your starry eyes. “Does this mean you forgive me?”
You laugh delightfully and Steve thinks it’s the most wonderful music to his ears. “No. You’re lucky I even let you into my house.”
“Mhmm I am very lucky.” He teased cockily.
“You know you have a lot to make up for?” You say say woefully.
“All that wasted time and you think I haven’t started planning yet? Trouble, c’mon.” He tilts his head.
“Well, you are a little scatter-brained so.” You purse your lips.
“Hey!”
You shrug mockingly as his hands stay glued to your face. “It’s what you get for hurting me.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll be making it up to you until death grabs me by the throat.”
Steve can’t believe his eyes right now, you, standing in front of him, willing to forgive him. He’s sure he can die happy right now.
“Hey, I’m gonna try and do something, and you can stop me at any time –hit me, or slap me– I won’t even squeak.” His fingers travel to hold your jaw, thumbs close to your bottom lip.
You nod inquisitively. “Alright, alright, we’ll crucify you if need be.”
His face is dull at your poor joke.
Steve lingers for a moment before he leisurely leans in close to your awaiting lips. First warning comes when the both of you are a breath away. “Everything okay?” He whispers.
“Mhm.”
The next comes when the tips of your noses are brushing against each other; a shy eskimo kiss. “Still okay?” In a timid manner you close your eyes. Steve admires how your lashes kiss your cheeks.
Your consent comes in the guise of an easy nod.
Then comes the time of the hour. Your lips were smooth and sweet, nothing like he could ever imagine in his wildest dreams. The kiss has both of your heart beats jumping around like monkeys. You feel like you’re gonna pass out; he’s so warm and his skin is stinging with shots of happiness. There were few times in your life you ever felt light headed, but this? This takes the cake. It feels like blowing out your birthday candles, and the after smell of the wax. It feels like summer, dipping your overheated head into the cold ocean, feeling your scalp chill. It feels like wiping soft buttercream off your lips and submerging your frosted finger into your mouth, tasting the sweet cream. It feels like everything
The both of you pull away for much needed oxygen –but in both of your opinions you could have gone without it– and just stare at each other. “You okay?” He wipes the wet off your lips.
“Fine.” You nod dumbly.
Steve gives you a small smile, fondness oozing out of his expressions. “Good.”
© berryfeilds 2024
Boycott S5 of Stranger Things → Cast Zionism + Other reasons and productions
Learn about Palestine → Resources + Ways to help + Other 1 + Other 2
#❆ i smell snow#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x you#steve harrington angst#steve harrington self insert#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington fanfiction#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington#stranger things#stranger things fanfiction#Steve stranger things#steve stranger things fic
124 notes
·
View notes
Text
to taste your beating heart
Pairing: Cirrus x f!Reader
Rating: Explicit
18+ ONLY MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
Tags: ooky spooky setting, dubcon, predator/prey, cirrus being creepy, allusion to kidnapping, pussy eating, overstimulation
Words: 2,072
Summary: Geocaching in the woods at night seems like a pretty terrible idea, but here you are nonetheless.
a/n: I just know being hunted down and chased in the woods at night by Cirrus ghoulette would cure my mental illness. I just know it. Also this is a lot of buildup for not a lot of porn I'm sorry I got caught up in the fantasy of it all, my bad. Enjoy.
divider by @ghuleh-recs
This has to be the stupidest fucking idea you’ve ever had.
That was the thought you were having while sitting in your car on the side of a darkened dirt road, head against the steering wheel. Geocaching. Nighttime geocaching - who the fuck came up with this and why did you agree to start doing it with your friends. Friends who pussied out at the last minute at that, leaving you all alone parked next to the vast stretch of trees that separate you from your goal. You agreed to it because you love the thrill you idiot, a voice in your head provides. Being afraid is part of the fun. And you grudgingly agree but your thoughts are once again soured by the thought of your wayward friends.
Fuck them, you think angrily while removing the key from the ignition and opening the door, I am not a pussy.
Using the small light provided by your phone, you rummage around the back seat for your gear – a small back pack with a collapsible shovel and your GPS device to provide you with coordinates. Procuring a blindingly bright lantern from your trunk you slam it closed and wince when your car produces a little honk upon being locked. Fuck it was quiet out here.
“Hope someone finds my body at least,” you grumble, making your way towards a path in the trees.
What seems like an eternity, but was in fact actually about fifteen minutes, passes as you continue on your journey, crunching leaves underfoot. You shiver a little – it’s not quite autumn yet but the warm summer nights have long since passed. Adjusting your oversized flannel, you quicken your pace. You are going to look so fucking cool presenting whatever you procured at this site at the next get-together, crowing about how you weren’t even a little bit scared.
A branch cracks beneath your foot and you jump, loudly swearing.
Ok maybe a little bit, but you weren’t telling them shit.
The glow of your GPS monitor lights up your face as you peer down at it – the coordinates are close. Allegedly there is some abandoned monastery out here which is what has you so determined to complete this venture. You’re nothing if not a sucker for cool architecture and secret places. Probably why you’ve gotten into this stupid hobby to begin with.
When you crest the small hill and the trees part both your jaw and bag drop. What stands before you in a clearing is a beautiful Gothic structure that seems to go on forever from where you stand – vast darkened stained-glass windows are placed in delicate arches and spires to match. As you wander closer you can see statues decorating the stone walls but you don’t recognize any of the iconography.
Weird.
Looking down at your GPS monitor you realize you are insanely close to your mark, all that needs to happen is for you to pass through the threshold that leads into what appears to be a series of cloisters. You hesitate – surely this really is your stupidest idea, you have no clue what could be in there. Wild animals, serial killers. You snorted, devil worshippers. Inhaling the chill night air, you glance up at the gleaming full moon and sigh.
You have a point to prove tonight and you did not come all this way to back down.
Gravel crunches beneath your sneakers as you approach the hall and right as you step through the stone archway, you hear what sounds like a breathy laugh coming from your right. Whipping your head around you wield your lantern in front of you like a weapon, the only sound you can now hear being your ragged breathing and the pounding of blood in your ears. You aren’t going to say “hello”. You’ve seen enough horror movies to not be that particular kind of dipshit. Rolling your shoulders, you shake your head and proceed on the stone pathway, ignoring that tiny voice in the back of your head that is urging you to get out. According to the GPS monitor you are steps away from your cache. Finally, you reach your destination and notice a loose brick in the column in front of you. Setting down your lantern, you carefully pry it out of the structure with a victorious little yes. You’re about to reach your hand inside to retrieve what you came all this way for but something makes you pause. Something that makes the hair on the back of your neck rise and your stomach churn.
It's the definitive feeling of being watched.
“Come on dude, get your shit together,” you huff while rolling onto the balls of your feet, trying to expel some of the pent-up anxiety your body is holding. Without another thought you reach your hand into the hole and your fingers feel around something thin and delicate. Pulling it out you raise your lantern back up to get a closer look and what you see perplexes you. On a thin, long gold chain is a cross – no that’s not quite right – an inverted cross with three-quarters of a circle around its bars to form what looks to you to be a stylized letter G.
What the fu—
The breathy laugh you heard earlier echoes again through the hall, much clearer, much louder, and much closer to you. You drop your lantern and it rolls away to the opposite wall, providing light further into the hallway.
What you see at the end chills you to the bone.
A figure stands there, half in shadow. Even in the dim light, you can make out the feminine curvature of its hips and the shiny black boots it wears. A tail, long and twitching, flicks behind it. Frozen in place, you drag your eyes up to its face, where gleaming sharp teeth are grinning wolfishly at you. When you meet its eyes – glowing in the dim light like that of a cat – and see what looks like horns growing out of its head you finally come to your senses and bolt. It doesn’t immediately follow, instead as you look over your shoulder you can see it striding almost lazily in your direction.
Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, you think as you attempt to pick up speed heading down the hill back into the woods. You had abandoned your back pack back at the abbey, the only thing on your person now is the strange necklace you had stolen with its sharp edges digging into the meat of your palm. You slow as you realize there are no footfalls in the leaves behind you – all is silent again outside of your labored breathing. A dull ache comes from your hand and when you look down you gasp at the blood dripping out of the small wounds in your palm from gripping the weird crucifix too hard.
Then you hear it.
One final time, you hear that laugh from behind your right ear, breath stirring the hair at the nape of your neck before you are thrown unceremoniously to the ground. When you scream, it – no she – grins down at you before straddling your waist and pushing your hands above your head. Long, dark hair falls forward to frame both of your faces as she leans in to inhale at the juncture of your neck and shoulder. Despite your fear – maybe even because of it, a small wicked part of your brain provides – you feel a twinge between your legs as she breathes you in.
“Now what,” she speaks for the first time, her voice low and teasing, “is a sweet thing like you doing all the way out here, all alone?”
You swear she’s able to hear your heart thudding against your ribs as you attempt to speak but before your lips can wrap themselves around any actual words she leans back, trailing clawed hands down the front of your flannel. That traitorous ache you felt earlier in your cunt returns as she slowly begins to unbutton your shirt, all while maintaining eye contact with you. When she opens the flannel to expose your chest you feel a flood of wetness gush from you at the way she eyes your breasts. You’re wearing a poor excuse for a bralette – all dark red mesh that hides nothing – and when she slides her hands up to cup at them your breath speeds up. Biting her lip, she circles your hardened nipples with her thumbs as her claws sink slightly into the soft flesh of your breasts.
“Feels good, hmm?” she says as her hips slowly began making circles over the heat of you. “Oh, sweet one, you really shouldn’t have come here tonight.”
When she slides down your body, the back of your head hits the dirt. Her claws are on the waistband of your black joggers now, inching them down your hips and thighs along with your underwear. When she finally exposes your cunt to the chill night air you hear her laugh low in her throat as she drags her nose along the seam of you.
“Soaked through. All from little me?” she blinks up at you from between your legs and you make eye contact with her again. “You like the fear,” she says, lips once again curling into a smirk. “Makes you wet, doesn’t it? I could rip you apart and devour you alive right here and you’d say thank you, wouldn’t you?”
All you can manage is a series of rapid nods as she drags a single digit through your folds.
“So maybe I will. Devour you that is.”
When she leans down and runs her tongue from the base of your slit to the top you practically choke on your gasp. She parts you with two fingers and immediately seeks out your engorged clit, which she latches onto and wetly sucks. When your hips buck, she pulls back to abandon your cunt and lays sloppy kisses on the insides of your thighs and your mound. You can hear yourself whine as she laves her tongue so close to where you want her and she hums deep in her throat.
“P-please,” you manage to hoarsely whisper and you see her cock her head while tutting at you.
“Trespassers get what they are given, sweet thing. You don’t get to bargain now.”
You slam your fist into the earth beside you as she dives back into the heat of you, skilled tongue licking and sucking at all the places except where you need her most. When the barest tip of her tongue brushes your clit, you moan obscenely and without thinking, grab at one of the horns on the top of her head. The noise she lets out makes your cunt gush embarrassingly and it must send her over the edge because now she’s assaulting your clit feverishly with her lips, her own moans mingling divinely with yours. Her claws dig into your thighs as she thrusts her tongue inside you again and again, two fingers rubbing at your bud even as she fucks you with her mouth. It’s so good – too good – and you feel your back arch off the forest floor. You come so hard it makes your body ache but she doesn’t stop even as your orgasm wanes. She growls and drags your hips closer to her as you attempt to inch away, ravenous for you. You writhe as she continues to devour you, ripping yet another orgasm out of you. Your clit aches from the overstimulation and you whimper and thrash in her grip. She shows no sign of letting up and when your third begins to crest, all of a sudden you feel yourself slipping into blackness.
---
When your body goes limp, Cirrus pulls away, face dripping with your juices.
Ah fuck. Got too excited again.
She pulls back onto her knees and sighs, observing your prone form on the forest floor. She tidies you up the best she can, slipping your underwear and pants back over your hips and she stands, stretching. The moonlight brushes your face and she cocks her head to the side.
You are just too lovely to let go.
She scoops you up with little effort and begins the walk back to the abbey, eager to show the other ghoulettes their new pet.
--
Four days pass and no one reports you or your missing car.
#cirrus x reader#cirrus x f!reader#cirrus ghoulette#nameless ghoulettes#the band ghost#the band ghost fic#rachel writes#cirrus ghoulette x reader
98 notes
·
View notes
Text
Hit The Road
Chapter Fourteen (FINAL)
previous chapter
Summary: You are a hunter of supernatural beings who is forced to experience a new reality: being a vampire. The only thing stronger than your thirst for blood is your thirst for revenge.
Author's note: the characters mentioned here were created by Kevin Williamson and Julie Plec, based on the book series of the same name by author L. J. Smith. They don't belong to me. That said, this fanfic will be short. This fanfic may address scenes of violence, inappropriate language and adult content. Minors should not interact with this story. Also some information here is not in the order of the series or the same way it happened in the tv series.
Your plan didn't work out. Damn it! Stefan broke down the door amid your screams of pain and grabbed you, throwing you to the ground. Strangely, him throwing you to the ground might have hurt more than being burned in the sun. You don't remember much after that. You can imagine the Salvatores being furious because you tried to end your vampire life. You're almost certain that you're tied to a chair. You try to move your hands and feet but can't. Your eyes slowly open, revealing Damon's room, and then you realize that you are indeed trapped. Damon comes out of the bathroom half-naked, with only a towel wrapped around his waist and his hair wet. You look at him, furious. But you notice that even though you're angry, you don't want to kill him.
"What did you do to me, Salvatore?" You almost shout as you watch him dry his hair with another towel. He's ignoring you, undoubtedly. He takes off the towel from his waist, revealing his naked body, and then slowly starts to put on some clothes.
"You know, you've always been one of the smartest people I know. But trying to kill yourself while a group of people who care about you is trying to find a solution to your problem was the stupidest thing I've ever seen." Damon's tone of voice is sharp; he seems genuinely bothered by the direction this story would have taken if Stefan hadn't stopped you.
"Fuck off, darling, I wanted to die. Not because the idea of a slow and painful death makes me happy, but because dying would prevent me from hurting you." You respond rudely, still trying to get out of the chair where you're tied up. Damon smiles, watching you struggle to untie yourself.
"You won't get out of there without my help, my love. That's because humans hardly ever manage to get out of places on their own. And yes, I called you human. In fact, while you were trying to kill yourself, I was able to track down your ex-best friend Dimitri. He had a cure for vampirism with him. And let's say he was happy to hand it over to save you." Damon's tone becomes almost too dark as he speaks the last part. He definitely killed Dimitri. I can't say it terrifies me, but I think Dimitri sought Damon's wrath.
"You turned me human and killed Dimitri? Wow, it's shocking the amount of things you can do." You speak, facing Damon, almost as a challenge, even though you know you should be grateful for him stopping you from dying or killing other vampires.
"I wouldn't have killed your hunter friend if he hadn't refused to free you from that damn spell. One thing led to another. But at the end of the day, everyone got what they deserved." Damon speaks as he approaches you. He crouches down on the floor, facing you. His blue eyes seem darker, and his expression looks tired.
"We're back to square one, aren't we? You're a cruel vampire, and I'm a human. What now? I age while you remain immortal, watching me slowly die in front of you? Then when all this is over, you go back to Elena and live a vampire life with her?" As you speak, you feel like you're venting to Damon but at the same time complaining.
"We both have at least a few more years before you start worrying about age and dying. I gave you back your human life so you could enjoy it a little longer. But when you want immortality back, just like your vampire boyfriends." Damon unties you, touching your hand lightly to your cheek, wiping away the tears you were shedding without even noticing.
"Did you hear about my idea for everyone to date each other at the same time? Seems like almost dying left my mind clear." You speak, smiling softly, trying not to appear confused by the changes in your life.
"I want you to know that I made a choice too. I chose to stand by the idiotic woman who married me in a cabin because neither of us knew what we wanted." Damon kissed both of your hands gently, then gave you a peck on the lips.
"What a lovely way to make me feel bad. But I won't backtrack, I love you and your brother. Individually but significantly." You pull Damon's face closer to yours, giving him a longer kiss.
"I have to go get more blood bags from the hospital. I think you have a visitor speaking of that, see you later." Damon kisses your cheek and leaves the room almost immediately. You get up from the chair and glance around Damon's room.
"Stefan, I'm no longer a vampire, but I know you're there." You say as you lean against Damon's bed, relaxing your sore back. Being human is too painful.
"I thought it would be weird to come here, to my brother's room, to see you." Stefan says, entering the room with a smile on his face.
"It's not strange. I guess now we all agree that we're okay with the fact that I..." You almost finish the sentence but are interrupted by a strong and sincere hug from Stefan, who crouched down in front of you.
"I hate you, you know?" Stefan says, kissing your cheek, as if he wanted to savor every detail of you. You then give him a gentle kiss on the forehead and sigh.
"Thank you for saving my life. But next time you knock me down, I'm gonna punch you." You say as you hug him gently, running your fingers through his hair. And so your life as a vampire took a pause so that your life as a human could return, alongside the Salvatore brothers. Damon made a deal with you that when you're ready to be a vampire again, he'll turn you. Obviously, Stefan thinks you're better off as a human. For now, you continue in this romantic confusion where you date Damon sometimes, Stefan other times, taking life one day at a time.
The End...
#tvd angst#tvd fanfiction#tvd characters#tvd fic#tvd fluff#damon x reader#damon salvatore fanfiction#damon salvatore x reader#damon salvatore#stefan x reader#stefan salvatore x reader#stefan salvatore fanfiction#salvatore brothers#love triangle#tvdu#tvdu fanfiction#elena gilbert#caroline forbes#spotify#Spotify
34 notes
·
View notes
Text
Oh get fucked you dipshit. No one bothered with you or cared about your ship until you started attacking people for the "crime" of liking a different ship than you. I'd forgotten you existed and was all the better for it. Sure, fine. Vernilla forever, it's vanilla and boring and stupid, just like you. I shall stop enjoying the fandom I'm in, that has nothign to do with you, and come back just to write you some stupid blonde bimbo who lays back to get fucked in boring, uninteresting, and unpleasant ways by some smelly fucking war criminal who barely gets it up because he's too goddamn old and tired. He's just huffing and puffing away on top of her like some pathetic lump.
How's that for pillow princess, you dumb fuck?
At least check if 1) people are even still in your fandom, or 2) taking prompts, you utter fucking shit stain. You are the worst part of fandom. I wish your computer would melt. You do not deserve the internet. I hope your phone battery never holds a charge, every plug in your home fries the motherboard of every computer you have forever, and every ship you ever love is never, ever more than a rarepair that only you and the nice people you trick with prompts bother to write for.
You lost any chance at kindness and/or respect from me when you attacked people who had nothing to do with you, when you sent inappropriate gifs to minors and you harassed people WHO HAD NEVER EVEN WRITTEN ROCHE BEFORE.
Now go away, @whereisvernilla . Go the fuck away and don't ever come back. Because all you're doing is making me hate Ciri as a character since you can't fucking comprehend that people not writing your ship doesn't mean they dislike it, or dislike the characters.
IT JUST MEANS THEY LIKE OTHER THINGS.
Fucking moron. I swear to god if you had two braincells it'd be because one was solely dedicated to keeping you breathing, you goddamn idiot. I swear to every god you don't understand the concept of fantasy, of preferences, or consent. You keep telling us to go to hell. WELL BITCH ILL MEET YOU THERE.
this is the fucking stupidest motherfucker I have ever met both in person and online and i've met some really, really fucking stupid people.
And for everyone who has no fucking idea what's going on, sorry. This dipshit has evaded blocks, sent emails, dms, asks, both anon and not, full of bigoted slurs, she's stolen fics and art that she's edited and reposted, she's sent sexual things to minors, she's sent sexual things unasked for to people, she has been asked, told, demanded, and reported. She comes around every now and then and Drums up drama crying about how no one likes her ship when all we were doing was cheerfully enjoying doing our own things and ignoring her.
Note: Been dealing with her bullshit for years now. Yelling at her makes her leave me alone for a few months.
#martmarina#marinamart#marinadk29#marinakd29#lovelycasualdetective#vernon roche#cirilla fiona elen riannon#Ciri#Vernilla#Ciri x Vernon#vernon x ciri
24 notes
·
View notes
Text
Lay All Your Love On Me
Chapter 3- Cockblocked
Josh Kiszka x Reader
Word Count: 2,729 (NEXT CHAPTER WILL BE A LONG ONE I PROMISE)
AN: Hi everyone! Here is the third chapter of Lay All Your Love On Me from me and @mar-rein12! Thank you so much for all the support on our last two chapters. Here is the taglist incase anyone wants to be added to it: TAGLIST. We hope you enjoy chapter 3, Cockblocked.
Next chapter coming Thursday!
Warnings: 18+, Angst, Flirting, Cursing, Hickeys, Masturbation, Nudes, Sexting.
JOSH’S POV
Fucking dammit Jake. He's the stupidest person you've ever met. You ask him to do one thing and he can’t even do that right.
You grab your phone to text Jake to make him aware of the night he just ruined.
9:47pm Josh: You can come back now since you just blew that all up into shit.
9:47pm Jake: I forgot, don’t be an ass.
You had been so close to getting what you wanted. Since Freshman year you couldn't stop fantasizing about her, and hearing about what she does with other guys just made it worse. It struck a nerve and made you jealous beyond belief.
Shortly after Jake’s text, you hear the door creak open again.
“Are you fucking braindead Jake, I asked you to do one fucking thing and you can’t even remember to do that!”
“I fucking forgot Josh. It's not my problem you can’t make moves on her anywhere else than a secluded room with just her. Maybe man up and try to talk to her for once like a normal fucking person and not act like you hate her or something.” Jake spat back at you.
You sat there and thought about it. You never really did make the effort to reach out before this show. She was just someone you admired from afar, never thinking of the idea of anything more.
“Because once this musical is over she’s no longer ‘yours’ and I’m not wasting any time to get what I want. You’ll be the one to go over to ‘Scott’s’ house, bud.”
You could kill him. He knows your attraction to her and although you may be considered the more outgoing twin, Jake is persistent and has drive. He’ll do what he needs to to get what he wants.
You get off the couch and furiously walk to your room, slamming the door while you’re at it. You open your phone to see if y/n had texted you, but nothing.
Did she get home safe?
You needed to know, but couldn’t seem too desperate for the answer. If the night would have ended right you could have walked her back.
You consider it for a moment. She’s probably fine, plus why do you care? She probably fucks someone and walks back alone at night all the time. She would definitely text you if something was wrong and she hasn’t texted so…
The night left you unsatisfied, needing more. But you were so angry you didn’t have it in you to finish the job yourself. That didn’t stop you from thinking about everything that had just happened though.
How sexy she looked in those shorts. She knows she gets a rise out of guys everytime she wears them, fucking slut.
And the nerve to show up with no bra, teasing you knowing that she would get something out of the night. But you didn’t mind, she looked so fucking hot without anything on top. God, you wished everything was off.
With the feeling of her grinding back and forth on your dick, you wanted to show her how good you could make her feel. Make her cum so hard, like no “one night stand” could ever do.
That night you fell asleep thinking about her, dreaming about what could have happened. And you'd be damned if you don’t finish the job soon.
y/n’s POV
“Fuck Josh, yes just like that. Harder!!!” You whine into his ear, nails scratching down his back.
Josh is standing above you, pounding in and out senselessly.
“You like that, y/n? Like the little whore you are. You're my slut, my little cum slut aren’t you?”
“OH MY GOD, JOSH I’M GONNA CUM, DON'T STOP!”
You shoot up in your bed with disappointment, beads of sweat beginning to form on your forehead. That was weird.
Why are you dreaming about him, especially after last night? You had left his house pissed. Knowing he arranged the entire thing to get Jake out of the house. And for him to not even text to see if you got back?
He was probably too busy scheming the next ‘hangout’ the two of you would have and how Jake would be going to Thomas’s dorm, or would it be Bob’s? It wouldn’t matter because it's bound to change.
When you got back last night your mind was filled with so many mixed emotions. You were pissed, for obvious reasons, but kind of honored? He made up a whole plan to get Jake out of the house so he could have you all to himself.
I guess that's what pussy deprivation does to a man.
You think about texting him. Letting him know how much of an ass he was last night, but right now all you could think about is how good he made you feel. He was passionate and hot. Something you never thought you’d be admitting about Josh.
You get up from bed and head to the shower. While walking there you check your phone. 12:17pm? Jeez. You were tired from yesterday so you woke up later than usual.
You close the door and begin to strip from your pajamas. Holy shit. You were covered in hickeys from last night. You hadn't realized how rough he was on you, but you didn’t mind. The dark purple looks good against your skin.
As you step into the shower you replay last night in your mind over and over as you go through your routine. Stepping out of the shower your skin felt hot and looked pink, making you feel a certain way.
You grab your towel and retreat back into your room. You turn on your lights to your room and close the blinds, filling the room with artificial light. You caught yourself staring in the mirror once again fascinated by the hickeys adorning your neck and chest, that's when it hits you.
Josh shouldn’t be the only one allowed to play games. You let your towel hit the floor and open the camera app on your phone. You begin posing until you find the perfect pose. You hold your phone horizontally in your left hand, showing off your bare chest and cutting off right below your nose.
You take your right arm and wrap it in front of your chest, covering your nipples and grabbing your boob in your right hand. You pull your hand in, creating a little extra cleavage, and finishing it off by opening your mouth just slighting.
You snap a few photos before checking them over to find the perfect one. After selecting it you open your messages and intentionally click on Josh’s name.
You add the picture along with a little note.
12:48pm y/n: *Attachment:1 image* Been thinking about you lately, can’t wait to see you again😘
You send your text and wait a moment to drive your plan home.
12:49pm y/n: Wasn’t meant for you but you can enjoy it, I guess.
That was sure to send him into a spiral. Now you sit and wait for it to all unravel.
JOSH’s POV
You hate doing the fucking dishes, especially when most of them are Jakes. Music helps you get through them though. You were getting tired of the current song that was on so you skipped to the next song, Kiss Me Thru The Phone started playing. As you close out of Apple Music, a notification pops up on your phone.
12:48pm y/n: *Attachment:1 image* Been thinking about you lately, can’t wait to see you again😘
Your eyes widen and jaw drops at the sight of the image.
It's her, covering her tits, hair wet draping over her collarbones, and mouth slightly open. The sight alone is enough to make you cum.
There is a second text underneath that you did not see.
12:49pm y/n: Wasn’t meant for you but you can enjoy it, I guess.
No fucking way. This has to be a joke. She’s gotta be fucking with you.
You take a look again. Her hickeys from last night were on full display. She’s a slut, but she's not a big enough slut to be showcasing them to another guy who didn't make them. You know it was for you.
Your dick was pressing hard against your plaid pajama pants, you knew you needed a release. Between this and last night it was much needed.
You head to your room down the hall, checking to see if Jake had left yet for his study group, luckily he did. You close the door for safe measures and lay down on your bed. You open your messages to it again, god she's so hot.
Her mouth, you need her mouth wrapped around your cock. Shoved deep down her throat, leaving her gagging for air.
You pull your pants down enough to release your length letting it slap against your abs.
Your tip is shining, glazed with pre-cum. You grab some lotion and begin to pump up and down, picking up the pace slowly. You stare at the photo, imagining what else could have happened if your cock-block of a brother hadn’t forgotten to not be at the house. I bet he did it on purpose, always having to ruin every moment. But you weren’t gonna let him infiltrate your mind during this moment.
You stare at her chest, seeing the marks that you made last night. When she was screaming your name, rocking back and forth on your cock. You pick up the pace, and begin rubbing your tip. You were so close, about to tip over the edge, the only thing it took was one simple thing she said last night that you’ve been thinking about since.
“Want more of a taste?”
With that you came hard, feeling the warm fluids hit your stomach. Breathing heavy you’re brought back to reality. You look down and see the mess you just made. She’s gotta know.
You open your camera and snap a photo, holding your dick up and abs painted with your cum.
1:15pm Josh: *Attachment:1 image* I know it was for me mama, you don’t have to lie. You’ll be the next one to make me cum tho, see you tomorrow.
With that you left it as it was, and planned on not talking until tomorrow during practice. Leaving her waiting and wanting more.
Y/n’s POV
To your surprise, Josh had caught on to your little game. But you were also left with a little present.
A little larger than most of the guys you’ve been with. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t think anything would be sent back. You almost expected it, especially coming from an attention seeking whore like him.
It made you want more from him. You wanted so badly to suck on his cock and make him cum in your mouth, swallowing down his fluids. You knew you couldn't give him the reaction he was hoping for. So all you did was ‘Heart’ the image. You thought about leaving a ‘HaHa’ on the photo but thought that would be too far.
You throw your phone onto your bed and pick out your clothing for the afternoon, since you and Charlotte would be staying in for the night. Some comfy lounge pants and a tank top were perfect for the occasion. You walk out to the living room to see Charlotte sprawled out on the couch, with Victorious pulled up on the tv. She was scrolling on her phone patiently waiting for you to join her.
She looks up from her phone. “Finallyyy.” You roll your eyes and smile. You crash onto the couch beside her.
“What was taking you so long you've been out of the shower for a while now?”
“Uh- umm, just looking for these pants, they were in my laundry pile that I never put away.”
She laughs and grabs the remote to start the next episode but immediately turns to you.
“So tell me everything about last night.” She says with a mischievous smile, wiggling her auburn eyebrows at you that match her thick, curly hair.
You giggle a little, thinking of maybe not sharing all the details, but fall under pressure to her convincing eyes.
“Okay, fine. So I went over there, late, because I got caught up talking with you!” You and her snicker to each other.
“But when I went to open the door it was Jake, and there was kind of, I don’t know, tension. Like he winked at me, Char.” Your eyes widen a little, recalling the events of last night.
“He’s so hot y/n, if things don’t work out with Josh I know which direction you should be heading.” She says with a smirk.
You punch her in the stomach. “Charrrr, stopp! It's not like that, besides I’m probably just overthinking it. Anyways, I went in and Josh was in a shitty mood because I was late. So, we went into the living room and started the movie. As it went on I was kinda stretching out, innocently, but then he kinda grabbed my ankle and was rubbing my leg. Obviously I wasn’t going to stop him, and then he kept going further and further up until he was practically in my shorts.”
“Omg he wants you so bad y/n.” You could tell Charlotte was loving every bit of this, she was such a great friend, always so supportive and interested in what you’ve got going on.
“Okay well… it only gets worse. He then PICKS up my legs and PLACES them on his thighs. After that I decided that it was time to make a move. So I got up and he pulled me down onto his lap. So I was straddling him and things got a little… you know.” You could feel the blood rush to your cheeks.
“This is crazy, then what happened?”
“Well he was about to go down on me, and then fucking jake WALKS in on us.”
“WHAT, did he see anything?” Her eyes widen, jaw slightly ajar.
“I don't think so, he turned away and left right after. But the thing is, he said he was going to Ben’s house after Josh said he was going to Scott’s.”
“So? He just messed up the names?”
“No, he didn’t. Josh obviously just wanted him out of the house so it was just him and I. Plus Jake was stuttering and forgetting where he was supposed to be. It was all planned, but it’s okay because I got a little something out of it.”
“Yeah I can see y/n.” She looks down to your chest smirking at your hickeys on full display.
You definitely were going to have to have a real shirt on tomorrow. “Whatever, let’s not think about him right now though, we have all our work done for the week, so let's just open a bottle and have a good night.” You smile at her, grabbing her hands into yours.
“YES! I’ll go grab the Pinot Noir, your fav!” She jumps up and runs to the small kitchen, hearing glasses being clanked around. “OMG I’m gonna grab some crackers and cheese too!” You hear from the kitchen.
You couldn’t have asked for a better roommate.
As the night went on many glasses of wine were poured, episodes were watched, and lots of girl talk. It's all really fuzzy, but you don't mind. Well you wouldn't, at least until tomorrow afternoon.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Taglist:
@demonrat444 @gvfstuddedmajesty @jordie-gvf @jazzyfigz @slut4lando @gvfmarge @peaceloveunitygvf @mar-rein12
#greta van fic#greta van fleet fan fiction#greta van smut#gvf#gvf fic#gvf smut#josh kiskza fanfic#josh gvf#josh kiskza smut#josh kiszka#josh kiszka x reader
45 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
choices-serenity
Serenity
justmakingifs-blog
i'm just making gifs
garima-saxena63
Untitled
choices-serenity
Serenity