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chvnnie · 1 year

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high 3racha 👀

i—

i’m doing to three different sections instead of one big one? hehe

SMUT — MINORS DIN

“That’s it, baby.” Chan mumbles. His fingers are tangled in your hair, back pressed against sweaty chest. Buried to the brim, he moves his hips in slow, rough circles. Making sure that you feel every ridge of his cock. His other hand hooks around your body, a joint neatly sitting between his pointer and middle finger. “Open.”

You let your lips part, allowing him to place the end on them. Eyes fluttering shut as you inhale, warm smile rolling down your overheated body. The drag you take is long. Longer than it should be considering your position. Once you’ve had your fill, you wrap a hand around his wrist, moving him away.

The exhale feels like your first breath ever; long, deep, filling your lungs so deeply it makes your body tingle. Do you moan from the sensation, or your boyfriend’s cock? Everything is fuzzy — you feel too good to try to figure out why.

“Good girl.” His voice is deep and raspy, usual when he’s been smoking. Placing the joint back on his own lips, he shoves your head back down. Mattress creaking when your cheek hits it.

Your fingers grip on the sheets, the cool cotton making your toes curl. It’s nice, soothing. Whereas Chan had started to become rough again, only easing up for that fleeting moment to share the joint.

This is a first for you. Though your highs have crossed over many times, it hasn’t occurred to either of you to fuck during it. Too hungry, too anxious, too focused on whatever was distracting you from each other’s bodies.

When you got home, Chan was already high. Sitting at the desk in his office, bong in his lap as he clicked through a porn site. He didn’t hear you walk in the room, hazy gaze locked in on the pretty girl in the video.

You sneak up behind him, rubbing his shoulders as you lean over his chair. “What are you doing, Channie?” You whisper in his ear, giggling when he jumps a bit in surprised.

“Missed you.” The words are almost inaudible, soft and groggy. His attention torn between you and the screen. “I couldn’t—I needed. Fuck, baby, I’m so hard—“

You coo, walking to sit in his lap. His arm hooks around your waist, pulling you firmly into his body. Even if he hadn’t had told you, it was more than obvious. Erection pressed against your ass, perfectly positioned for you to tease him a bit. Wiggling as you take the bong from him.

“Play the video.”

It was only a matter of time — how much is up for debate. Stumbling into your shared bedroom, shakily tearing at each other’s clothes. The only pause was for Chan to roll a questionable joint, desperate to combine the high of the weed and your body.

If anything, the high makes your boyfriend more attentive. Balancing himself with a hand on your hip while the other moves from your hair. Sliding down your body in search of your clit.

He’s rough, hips hitting your ass with such an intensity that you wouldn’t be surprised if you bruise.

“F-fuck, Chan.” Your cries are weak, laced with a mind numbing, life altering pleasure. Head rolling back, you glance over your shoulder.

Like a God, well defined and beautiful. Sweat sparkles off his skin, hair disheveled from your fingers. His eyes are shut, taking a long, heavy hit of the joint. Only when he exhaled does he look at you. Smiles lazily.

“My pretty baby.” It’s like a purr, perfectly in tune to fingers teasing your clit. “I love this perfect cunt.”

You whimper, rolling your hips to meet his. Eager, needy. So dizzy you think you’d fall over without him. “Feel ‘o good. So b-big—“

“You like it?” He chuckles when you cry out, the hard thrust hitting you in all the right ways. “It’s all for you, sweetheart.”

Chan stops, cock only midway in. You’re tempted to fuss, to beg him to continue on. What comes over you? What makes you move on your own, hips rolling back as you start to fuck yourself on his cock.

“That’s it.” He puts the nub of the joint out in the ashtray, hand coming in contact with your ass. The impact makes your knees buckle. “Show me how much your pretty pussy loves my cock.”

It’s all hazy. Dizzy. Cold, hot. Like a tornado erupting in your bedroom, helping you find a pace that brings the prettiest moans from your boyfriend. His fingers pinch your clit, rubbing in time with your hips.

Does he twitch first, or do you? It’s hard to tell.

“Make me cum, baby.” His voice is getting weaker, a deep whine as he rolls his head back.

Chan can’t help the way his body trembles as you start moving quicker, crying as your thighs begin to ache. He’s abusing your clit, pulling and rubbing with little care. Normally, it would be too much. Painful, even.

But now, it’s perfect. Clinching around him as he starts to fill you up without warning. Both experiencing an explosion of pleasure you’ve never felt before.

You’ll be damned if you don’t get it again.

///

There’s lipgloss on the pipe. When it meets Changbin’s lips, it’s stickier than he expects. Grape flavor, oddly complimenting the earth taste that fills his mouth as he breathes in. He takes it in deep, eyes fluttering shut. Body starting to tingle.

It’s removed from his lips, a pretty purple shimmer left as evidence. He doesn’t open his eyes, doesn’t exhale. Allowing his other senses to take the lead — hears the pipe hit the table, feels your cold fingers thread through his silver locks.

Tastes grape when you kiss him, softly parting his lips with your tongue.

He moans as the smoke is shared with you. It’s the way you tug on his hair, the warmth of your tongue on his. Nothing in the world will ever be as sweet as your kisses, yet they always feel better when he’s like this. Addictive, as if this is the source of his high.

“Binnie, Binnie.” You mumble when your lips part, tapping the tip of his lightly until he finally opens his eyes again. Beautiful isn’t a strong enough word for you; the purple bra you’re wearing is the perfect shade, panties so soft and sweet with a bow that matches. Fuck, Changbin wants your lips back. “I feel good.”

“Yeah?” He smiles at you, tongue peeking out and wetting his lips. Another taste. “Me too, baby.”

Your legs are over his lap, tucked into his side on the tour bus couch. He gets chills as your hands run down his body, starting to trace the intricate designs sketched into his skin. The moment feels like it could last forever; dizzy, tangled. Nothing else outside the bus matters, everything important between the tiny metal walls.

A line is drawn across his chest tattoo, hooking under the golden chain he wears everyday. Thin, your initial attached to it. Charm between your fingers, you rub the cold metal until it’s warm.

“Don’t want you to go.” The confession is whisper by his ear, breath fanning on his neck.

“Me neither.” Changbin squeezes your bare thigh, watching the flesh mold around his fingers. “But I have a show to play. I’ll be back.”

You lift your head up, lips in a sweet pout. “Stay?”

“Baby, you know I can’t—“

He didn’t even notice that you had let go of his necklace, or that you grabbed the hand on your thigh. It wasn’t under he felt something soft and damp that he looked down — fingers laced together, pressing his palm firmly against your clothed core.

“Are you sure?”

Time has to go on. It can’t stay still in the tiny bus — but Changbin is fine wasting it when it comes to you. The tint windows have started to fog, hands pressed firmly against the glass. The rockstar hasn’t moved an inch, still seated on the couch, only with his head rolled back. And your knees caging him in.

Calloused hands grip onto you, kneading your ass as his tongue sloppily works your folds. His nose is pressed against your clit, nudging side to side to make you spill pretty moans.

“Bin.” You cry out, looking down to see his redden eyes on you. Not once has he looked away from you, watching your chest heave, the way your lips part in pleasure.

Is the weed making him dizzy? Or is it you?

Parting from your folds to breath, he smiles up at you. “What, sweetheart?”

You shake your head, unable to even attempt to answer his questions. The high mixed with the rough way he’s eating you out has rendered you unable to think, let alone speak.

“Aw, cute.” He spits on your cunt, delighted at the sound you make. “Do you like daddy’s tongue that much?”

“Yes.” It’s shaky, and broken, and all you can give.

“Then fucking ride it.”

Using the grip on your ass, he pulls you down. Forcing you to suffocate him, moving you up and down his face. Tongue flat, flicking occasionally to make you squirm.

One hand on the window, the other grabs his hair again. Using the hold for support, you find your own tempo. Rolling your hips quickly, almost roughly, you use Changbin’s tongue the way he commanded you to.

“Damn it.” You curse, tears thick in your voice. “Daddy, y-you feel nice—“

He nips at your clit, a little harder than he meant to. When your thighs squeeze his head, he laughs. “Yeah? Don’t fucking stop.”

It’s sloppy, wet. The sound filling the bus, if not spilling out of it. You try your best to listen, to keep going and chasing a high that only he can bring. Twitching, crying, making his cock swell when you paint his face.

You let it end. Try to move. But he’s not budging. The weed has made him hungry, and he’s not stopping until he gets his fill.

///

The smoke looks pretty. Head roll back against the couch, Jisung watches the cloud float up, up, up. It twirls, morphing into different shapes. Before it reaches the ceiling — poof. All gone. Popped like a bubble, as if it was never there.

Hm. A lazy smile spreads across his face, eyelids fluttering until the eventually shut. What’s it like to be a cloud? He thinks it would feel…soft. Lighter than air, sometimes separating but always coming back together. Like a big piece of cotton candy. Sweet, soft, fluffy.

It feels like fingers tapping lightly under his chin. Raindrops, perhaps? The cloud moves with his head, looking down at his lap.

You. Bright eyed, hints of red dotting the whites. When he looks at you, the room is filled with giggles. Bouncy, the air that keeps him afloat.

“What?” He asks, voice low and steady. Softly, he runs his fingers through your hair. Needing to touch you, needing to feel weightless.

“Just admiring.” God, he knows he’s so fucking stoned, but your voice. Oh, it makes his chest ache wonderfully. A beautiful, lovely sound that keeps his heart beating. “You’re pretty, Sung.”

Heat creeps up his cheeks, turning them a deep rosy red. It feels silly, how shy you still make him. Nerves cause tiny rifts in the cloud, scrambling to pull himself back together so he doesn’t embarrass himself.

“Nah.” Is all he can manage, spinning too quickly to say much more.

You sit up, sitting where your head was just laying. Arms around his shoulders, scooting closer. Hips on top of hips, chests inches apart. The smile you wear he thinks is precious; it compliments you, like the oversized hoodie of his you’re tucked into.

“Don’t be silly.” You rub the tip of your nose against his, giggling when he does. His hands slip under the hoodie, resting on your waist. The lace of your panties makes his toes curl. “You’re the prettiest. Like. So pretty.”

God, he’s so in love with you. Needing you like the cloud needs the sky to keep itself alive.

“Kiss?” He whispers, not wanting the words to be heard by anyone else, as if you’re not all alone.

“How about a bunch?”

It’s sloppy, but neither of you mind it much. Time freezes in the sky; there’s no need to rush. All of it belongs to you two. Plenty of time to take it slow, to take in each other thoroughly. You taste like the sugary candy you shared earlier. It tastes so much better on your tongue.

When Jisung is with you, he feels whole. The lonely pieces of his soul suddenly filled. Patching him together, completing him beautifully.

His hands move up your body, feeling every inch of your warm skin. Always a bit handsy, it’s even more intense when he’s high like this. He can’t get enough of you, needing to feel all of you.

When his fingers brush the underside of your breasts, you whimper a little. Wiggling on his lap, perfectly sitting your barely clothed core on his growing erection. The panties you’re wearing are thin, the texture of his boxers felt through them. And oh, is it so so nice.

Your hips start to roll. Slow like the kisses, your press your cunt against him, moaning into his mouth. The pressure is just right, the rough sensation of lace and cotton scratching every inch you could ever have.

“Baby.” Jisung moans in your mouth, gripping onto your hips again. The hold is tighter, nails puncturing your skin. “Baby, baby, baby—“

“‘S good?” You part from his lips. Swollen, shiny with his spit and your own. Fuck, he needs them again.

Nodding, he uses his grip to push you down a little harder. Making it better for the both of you as his hips begin to roll like yours. Meeting in the middle, grinding against each other.

“So good.” It’s almost like at out of body experience. The high making him fuzzy, your cunt wetting his boxers so much that they stick to his cock. His pretty lips pout out, moaning deeply as he watches your bodies move to a tempo only the two of you can hear.

What is it about you that drives him so insane? Why can he never, ever get enough of you, no matter how much you fill him? The high would never be this good if you weren’t sharing it with him.

You yelp softly, thighs twitching around his body. Jisung looks back at you, brows furrowed just a bit.

“Baby?” He’s whining. He can’t help it. “It’s okay?”

Instead of answering, you kiss him again. Harder than before, clinging to him so fiercely as if he’ll float away. The fuzzy feeling in his stomach is getting out of control, cock throbbing and twitching, and—and—

“Jisung.” You’re nipping at his lip, small tears rolling down your cheeks. “You feel ‘o nice. Want t-to cum on you—“

“Fuck, please, baby?” Beg. Beg, beg, beg. When it comes to you, he’ll do and say anything. Not worthy enough in any way, praying you’ll give him a chance.

And every time—

The strength behind your orgasm takes your breath away. It’s drenching him, covering not only his boxers but the hem of his old t-shirt. Never have you ever squirted so much, so hard. Just for him.

It’s enough to bring him with you, not even a second after. Moaning loud enough to echo, floating higher and higher as he cries your name.

—you’re more than gracious.

#skz smut #stray kids smut #bang chan smut #han jisung smut #changbin smut #chan smut #han smut #jisung smut #seo changbin smut #3racha smut #chvnnie thots

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trashmouth-richie · 1 year

Text

Eddie x fem! reader [vol i, vol ii, vol iii, vol iv]

⚠️trigger warnings: mentions of a exual assault, accusations, mentions of domestic abuse, teenage drinking, panic attacks etc

w/c: 7.9k

a/n: s/o to all my favorite people helping me continuously with this series! @agentmarvel @sweetsweetjellybean @jo-harrington !! 💋💋💋💋💋

You’re spinning, spinning, spinning. If you couldn’t smell your own hair products on your pillow, you would swear that you were in a dystopian world, twirling like a frisbee through a pink blossomed sky and being caught in a three headed cat's mouth.

It’s true, hangovers get worse with age, but you were only twenty one— and they’re supposed to go up from here? What happened to ‘the best years of your life’? Whoever said that should be shot and killed on site. Stupid bastard.

Opening your eyes seems like the worst idea you could do, so you don’t. You slowly let your other senses bring you back to reality. You recognized that you were in your bed. Something soft is wrapped around you and judging by the feel of the fabric between your fingers it’s your robe.

A pungent smell of sour bile presents on your breath, one whiff of it and it’s instantaneous: vomit.

Fuck, that would explain the burning in your throat and the graveling dry sensation in your mouth

Pieces of the puzzle that was last night start fitting into place in your mind.

The drinks. The shots. The food. The clinking sound of ice in Steve’s Bloody Mary as he tipped it back and the ice swam towards his teeth, is like nails on a chalkboard.

Oh Christ how there had been so many drinks. Damn Robin and her mischievous ideas for wanting to do shots. Memories of the fiery tingle of the top shelf vodka Steve insisted on having, hitting your lips is enough to make you pass out.

The hollow feeling in your stomach gets queasy as you remember the greasy bar food served at Louie’s. Your stomach quenches, clutching around itself, ridding its salmon colored lining of the disastrous evening.

But nothing comes up. Just heaving dryly in your bed as tears escape your eyelids and your feet hit the floor. Throwing your body into a whirlwind of dizzy flips— your brain swimming in a sea of Diet Coke and Malibu, membranes bursting with the carbonated bubbles.

You’ve never needed a toothbrush more than you do right at this very second. You stand and the world feels like its raging war on your head. Pulsing and throbbing, like a concert was playing in your head and the guitar solo never ended.

You open your door and are met with the thought of how the fuck did you get here last night? Fuck it, you’d ask questions later, for now you needed to empty your bladder and brush your teeth.

As soon as you lay a hand on the bathroom door, Eddie emerges from his bedroom. Sweatpants are riding dangerously low on his hips and purpling hickies decorate his neck. He’s rubbing his eyes but when he catches sight of you he smiles lazily.

“Holy hell,” Eddie quips, eyes scanning over your body. You robe is hanging loosely off one shoulder, it’s crooked but the tie is in place covering your lower half. They land on the wild mess of hair atop your head, “normally I’d say good morning but it’s—“ he leans back into his room to look at his alarm clock, chuckling at the realization, “—two in the afternoon.”

You don’t fight Eddie for the shower, too tired and weak to argue. You fumble through the medicine cabinet finding the ibuprofen and the Disney cup with the swirly straw on the sink, filling it and taking the slick coated medicine. Swallowing harshly, your throat still raw and aching.

You settle for brushing your teeth while Eddie is in the shower. He’s singing Teen Spirit and getting louder and louder. The circles of the vigorous brushing of your teeth mixed with Eddie’s singing are making your head pound. A long look in the mirror leaves you suddenly feeling embarrassed, as if you needed to look drop dead gorgeous at every single minute you’re around him.

What the hell is going on?

“Please,” you beg, spitting the last bit of toothpaste into the sink, “for the love of everything holy— stop.”

The screeching noise of the shower curtain rings being pulled back pull your head up as you see Eddie half naked, torso covered in soap and your loofah in his hand, the dripping curls on his head turned to long waves with the weight of the water.

“Don’t act like I don’t sing like an angel, sweetheart,” he says with a wink, “besides, lying is not good for your health.”

The suds are traveling south, further and further and further downward, your eye fixated on one particular bubble as it pops right at his belly button.

You train your eyes on his, your cheeks heat from your staring. You reach up and shut the curtain.

“I wasn’t saying you sound bad—I just feel like my head is going to implode.”

Eddie thinks for a minute, “want me to sing you a lullaby? I’d put your baby ass to sleep just like I did last night.”

A million different scenarios flood your mind of what happened last night.

Did you kiss him? You remembering staring at his lips, the soft pillowy pinks, the way his tongue peak—

Oh fuck.

Are the hickies on his neck from you? His Adam apple bobs as he swallowed.

Shit.

Did you sleep together? Blankets, over your head.

What the fuck?

Where are your pants? You can’t even remember what pants you were wearing.

Where’s your car? Did you drive home?

Did Eddie pick you up from the bar?

Did he see you puke? You faintly remember puking on the floor of the front seat of a vehicle.

Your head continues to spin as you sit on the edge of the closed toilet seat. Suddenly feeling violated and disgusting.

“Tooty?” Eddie’s voice rings out.

This time you’re the one throwing open the curtain. Ignoring him as he shields himself with your loofah and his arm. “Jesus Chr—!“

“How fucking dare you!”

“What?!”

“You fucking pig, how could you do that to me!”

“Do what!” Eddie yells back

Your tossing shampoo bottles and bars of soap at his naked body, he’s surprisingly agile, dodging every one.

“How could you sleep with me when I was that drunk?! Jesus Christ I can’t believe you! Why would you do that to me?!”

Tears well in your eyes, you can’t believe that someone you once trusted, and were getting used to trusting again, after only being able to confide in three people over the last five years, would do something so vile, so fucking awful.

“After everything we’ve been through? I’ve known you since I was a kid Eddie! I get drunk one time and you take it upon yourself to forc— “

“Tooty!” Eddie hollers, turning the water off to the shower and stepping around you out of the way to grab a towel, he wraps it around his waist and turns to face you again.

“I didn’t do anything to you.” His eyes are wild but filled with hurt, he lowers his voice, and backs away from you. “If you don’t believe me, call Harrington. I talked to him after I carried your drunk puking ass to your own bed last night!”

“Then where are my pants?! If you ‘didn’t do anything to me’ where are my pants at?!” Eddie heads into the kitchen and pulls the short overalls you were wearing off the back of a chair, still damp from the wash. He tosses them towards you and they land at your feet.

“I washed them because you barfed all over them and I thought you would appreciate them being cleaned instead of in a vomit covered ball on the bathroom floor!”

Your accusations sting his eyes, and burn his nose.

You blink rapidly and rack your brain, the blurry sight of Steve’s car covered in puke comes into view. You struggling to get your clothes off alone in the bathroom. One? Or maybe two girls yelling at him as his back is turned to you, Eddie’s honey dripped voice talking to you as you throw up into the toilet, cheek nestled against the seat. And finally, the feel of his chest on your cheek as he carries you to your room, arms and hands never touching you inappropriately.

Before you can apologize Eddie is thrusting the cordless phone into your palm, Steve’s voice faintly heard from the speaker. He turns with a huff and not another look towards you as he slams his bedroom door shaking the frame.

Shutting your bedroom door, Eddie hangs his head, his forehead and one palm on the door, a small smile gracing his lips. His head is spinning, he’s not drunk, in fact he only had one beer tonight, right before their set started.

What is this feeling inside of him? Butterflies in his stomach? Nah, that shit was juvenile. He could only pray that it was indigestion, nothing a couple gulps from a Pepto Bismol bottle couldn’t fix. But he couldn’t deny it.

The instinctual gut feeling of needing to protect you rang true all day. He was ready to fight everyone and anyone who talked ill of you. He just couldn’t help himself. He hadn’t felt this protective of someone since his own mother. He didn’t even feel this way towards Chrissy, and they dated for almost a year.

He pulls his head from the door, wondering if he should have put you on your side so if you vomited in your sleep you wouldn’t choke. He shakes his head, removing his hand slowly down your door, letting his fingers hang to his side.

What is this? Why is he acting like a parent? He rubs his eyes and turns to go to bed, your wadded up overalls in his peripheral vision. Would it be weird? Him washing your clothes? It’s not like your panties were in here it was just the overalls. He could be a good guy, he could be a decent human being, for you— he’d be it all.

Stomping down the dingy, murky basement steps he quickly throws your overalls into the washing machine, adding way too much powdered Era but figuring it was better than having them stink like puke. Slamming the metal lid closed with a wonky bang, he trots back up the stairs.

Stomach grumbling and realizing the only thing he had to eat all day were the poptarts he packed for work, he opens the fridge. Inside sitting on a shelf is a fading spaghetti stained Tupperware, on the lid is a sticky note, and written in your beautiful loopy handwriting:

“Got off work early and made the Tater tot casserole. Warm it up in the microwave for a minute thirty, hope you had a good show tonight. -T ”

You didn’t always love when your clients canceled last minute, it meant money gone from your pocket and an annoying increasing anxiety building in your gut when bills showed up. But today, you could actually enjoy the sun's rays on your shoulders for a bit as you drove down the streets of Hawkins, stopping at Bradleys Big Buys to get a pound of ground beef and a can of cream of mushroom soup.

Pushing the cart through the aisles you found the two items you came for, hoping to make it home early so that you could make the casserole before Eddie played tonight, or maybe he could enjoy it when he got home.

Cooking for someone was a labor of love, the simplest act of kindness anyone could offer. That’s what Karen Wheeler had taught you when she would spend her Saturday’s teaching you and Nancy how to cook good hearty meals that would last a while so you wouldn’t starve in college.

“And someone enjoying the food you cook? Girls, that’s the best feeling in the world.”

She wasn’t lying. Even that first week with the lasagna when Eddie had basically came in his pants with every bite, you felt a skip in your chest.

It was the least you could do after he gave you a sense of calm whenever he was around. You didn’t trust many people. Not after what happened. In fact Nancy, Steve and Robin were the only people you could put any sort of hope in.

After browning the ground beef with an chopped onion and mixing the canned ingredients together, you season the mixture with salt, pepper, and garlic powder. One last wipe around the bowl with your spatula and it was good to go. Spreading the mixture into a greased 9 x 13 inch pan and added shredded cheese, you line the tater tots across in horizontal rows and toss it in the oven, covering the dish with tinfoil.

Steve confirms everything that had happened. Even down to the minor details of you calling him ‘Steeb’. You feel stupid. Your stomach sank when he said that Eddie had stayed up all night making sure your overalls were clean and that you weren’t choking on your vomit.

“He’s a good dude, Tooty,” he explains, “he’s a perv and a complete douche most of the time, but he would never in a million years do that to someone, especially you.”

“…I know.”

“But do you?” Steve prods, “you said so yourself that he kinda looked out for you, almost better than your own brother did.”

“He did— but that’s just because I was with Chrissy’s brother and he was dating Chrissy.”

“That doesn’t matter, what does matter is that he’s a good guy— someone trustworthy. Make it right.”

With that Steve hung up.

You sit on the couch, head in your hands, feeling like a big pile of shit for what you did. Eddie wouldn’t understand. How could he? You blatantly accused him of doing something that you know in your heart and in your soul that he never could have done. Tears drop from your eyes and into your palms. You allow yourself to cry, something you hated doing, for a few minutes. Angry with yourself for the wrong that you did, but also hurting from the past. When your eyes were puffy and snot was sliding from your nose, you call it quits. Fanning your face you realize you still haven’t taken a shower yet this morning.

Making your way to the bathroom, you turn your head towards Eddie door, Steve was right, you needed to fix this.

But how?

The shower was exactly what you needed. The scald from the water was helping ooze the booze from your pores as your dehydrated body soaked it up. Eddie didn’t deserve your harsh words, your accusatory statements, the way his face fell in horror when you screamed at him was burned into your memories, something you saw whenever your eyes were closed. You sit on the floor of the shower. You couldn’t tell him what was going on, you were stronger than that. You didn’t need his sympathy, his pity parade, you would get through this on your own just like you always had. You may have been wrong and and you should probably apologize but you dismiss the idea. What the hell does Steve Harrington know about it?

Eddie bangs on the door, bringing you back to reality.

“What?” You holler out.

“Hurry up so we can go get your car before you accuse me of stealing that too.” His voice is angry and hurt. Finishing up in the shower you leave the bathroom to see an impatient Eddie huffing around the living room, looking at his empty wrist as if he wore a watch and throwing his hands in the air.

“Christ will you hurry the fuck up? I’ve got places to be.”

“Oh fucking relax,” you pout, slamming your door and toweling off. You settle for a pair of denim shorts and a cotton t-shirt. When you reach for the comb to untangle your hair you hear obnoxious honking.

He wouldn’t.

Eddie is sitting in the van laying on the horn. Grabbing your ratty white keds you fly through the house, grabbing your purse and combing your hair as you fling yourself through the door. The pavement is hot on your feet, an exceptionally warm day for September. The hot sun and humid temperatures are the worst mix for a hangover.

Indian summer in full swing.

“Fuck I’m right here, knock it off!” He’s staring at you with dead eyes, hand planted on the horn until you slide your ass onto the cracked leather seat.

Without another word he throws the van in reverse and reaches a hand over to your headrest twisting his body, the cut off flannel he is wearing isn’t buttoned, the powdery musk of his deodorant burns your nose.

Nothing has changed with the old van, tape decks are still littered across the dash, stumped out in the cup holder are a mountain of cigarettes and joints. Too many pine scented Little Trees hanging from the rearview doing a horrible job of hiding the smell of weed. Judas Priest screams through the speakers. You place a foot on the dash to get your shoe on when suddenly you are lurching forward. Eddie taps the brakes.

“No feet on the dash.”

You set your face in a scowl, words bitter on your tongue, “yeah, cause my shoe is really going to hurt the value of this piece of shit. I’m just putting my fucking shoe on since some asshole with a small dick complex couldn’t wait five minutes.”

A mocking chuckle escapes Eddie’s throat, “you really are such a pleasure to be around, how did I get this lucky?.”

“And you’re such a prick,” you seethe, bending over and tying your shoe, “why did you even answer my ad in the paper? All we do is fight because you fucking hate me.”

He’s had enough, slamming his foot onto the pedal, Eddie turns towards you and spits, “Do you really think of me like that? A predator? Someone who would move in with you just to violate you the second you pass out?”

“No I—“

“All the years you’ve known me, you think I’d just up and turn into a fucking rapist?!”

“Jesus Christ Eddie!“

“No, I wanna know, right now,” he turns to you, eyes angry and filled with hurt, “do you get off on this shit? Treating people like they’re nothing? Automatically assuming the worst about someone because of where they grew up? I’m not like that Tooty, I’m not like my—“ he stops himself, pushing his tongue to his cheek, “you are not the girl I knew. I don’t even fucking recognize you.”

“The girl you knew was fourteen, Eddie! My biggest problem back then was wondering who I could convince to buy Boonesfarm for the weekend rager, shit changed. I changed! I had to adapt to shit that was way out of my control. And you don’t even know half of it!”

“You’re right, I don’t and I bet if I were to ask, you wouldn’t even tell me, so fuck it, where am I going?”

“What?”

“I can’t read your mind, where is your car parked?”

You tell him. And as soon as you pull alongside Louie’s and beside your car, you realize you don’t have the keys.

“Open the door. Get out.” Eddie spits in a condescending tone.

Looking at him and smiling, with an extra side of cunt you sing, “I don’t have my keys.”

“Of fucking course.”

Lighting up a cigarette and cranking the wheel Eddie flies through Hawkins. He misses the turn on Kerley to get back home. “Missed the turn,” you announce, putting your other shoe on.

Eddie takes a deep breath and sighs lips tight in a line and exhaling through his nose. “Groceries.” He says through gritted teeth.

Pulling into the grocery store parking lot, Eddie parks, taking up for spots, a tire in each one, before the van even stops moving he’s already out and slamming the door, flicking his cigarette across the parking lot. The heat of the day already high.

Finishing lacing up your other shoe you run across the parking lot to catch up to him. He already has a cart and is whizzing through the aisles before you finally see him. Reaching into your purse you unfold the list and take a look at it.

Dunakaroos

Twizzlers

Gobstoppers

Spaghetti o’s

Bologna

Mayo— NOT MIRACLE WHIP! And no it’s not for that.

Lotion, yes for that 😉

the soft bread, not the brown one.

Carton of reds

Case of Busch Light.

Sunny D

Red kool aid

Hot dogs

Cocoa Puffs

Sliced cheese

Baby food since you think I’m a child (just kidding, don’t be mad)

whatever chips you got with that salsa the one time

My milk— not that skim shit you drink

Your milk— the skim shit

Mac n Cheese

“What kind of a fucking list is this? Most of this shit is snacks.”

“Oh for fucks sake, what are you pissed about now?” Eddie says, dumping two bags of marshmallows into the cart.

You’ve never met a twenty-six year old that ate like he was dining at Willy Wonka’s Factory every night.

“Not a single fruit or vegetable!” You say, waving the list in his face.

“I smoke green, I don’t eat it. Unless you wanna make some pot brownies, I’d eat the shit out of those.” He throws a box of brownie mix into the cart for good measure.

You yank the cart from his hands and turn around, heading back to the produce aisle. He huffs when you place a paper bag of apples neatly in the cart, whines when the bananas sit by your purse, and almost passed out when the tomatoes and a head of lettuce make their way into the cart.

“You’re such a baby! Literally an overgrown man child in the flesh.” He’s walking in front of you mimicking you and whoops! The cart may have slipped out of your hands and made a fleeting dash towards his Achilles tendon, banging against.

“Ouch, Jesus Christ!” Eddie groans under his breath, holding his leg he glares towards you, shooting daggers.

“It slipped,” you smirk.

He scoffs and turns on his heel walking away. You finish in the produce aisle, looking through the boxes of noodles and calculating what you could make for dinner this week. Eddie comes back arms full, you only see his hair sticking out on each side of the three boxes of cereal, a 10 lb ham and seven tubes of cinnamon rolls. He drops them all into the cart with a heavy thud.

After crossing everything off the list and getting a few more things despite Eddie’s protesting exhales, you have a cart full. He seems to have calmed down by the time you make it to the beer fridge, taking two thirty packs of Busch Light and putting them on the bottom of the cart, he rips the side of one of them open and takes a can out. Cracking it open in the middle of the store, downing it. The light colored lager is spilling down his chin, into the collar of his open shirt. He tosses it into a lady’s cart as she’s walking past, wiping the foam from his lips and belching loudly.

You roll your eyes, “You can’t wait until we’re home?”

“What?” He says, looking at you with a stupid grin, “I’m gonna pay for it.”

Waiting in the checkout aisle he cracks another one as he unloads the groceries onto the conveyor belt with one hand. Tossing most of the items onto the belt and grabbing another beer and chugging it. The checkout lady puts her nose in the air and huffs a disapproving grunt.

“I was thirsty.”

“You’re so imp—” your insult is cut short when your eyes sweep over him.

It had been a full two years since you had seen him last. His blonde hair was combed to the side like it always was. The blue of his icy eyes still burned holes through you like dry ice to the exposed skin. The navy blue suit jacket and white Oxford shirt with a red patterned tie and the tan khakis he was wearing suggested he was coming from a late Sunday brunch after church. Awful crippling memories of spending hours ironing those pants to make sure the creases were perfect cloud your memory, you unconsciously hold the two fingers on your left hand, the ones that held misshaped triangle burn scars.

You don’t realize that Eddie is talking or that you’ve stopped moving until the shape of his curly head shakes in front of you. Your breath is hitched in your chest, you feel small. Physically and mentally.

Two years without seeing the face that was the sole purpose of most of the fear in your life. Two years without seeing the demon grin and crazy twitch in his eye. You were frozen in place and your blood ran cold.

It was evil in its truest form. Standing in the checkout behind you— stood Chad Cunningham.

Eddie couldn’t make heads or tails of what was going on. Putting the grocery sacks in the cart, he turns to look in your line of vision. He doesn’t recognize him at first. But the strawberry blonde hair and blue eyes ran in the Cunningham blood. He was with a woman, who was so obviously pregnant she seemed like she was about to burst. Judging from the horrific way your eyes were bulged out of your head and the way your body was almost catatonic, Eddie figured it was time to get the fuck out of here. Reaching in his pocket for his wallet he paid the cashier and impatiently waited for the change, keeping his eyes on you.

You were trembling with fear. Not from the sudden run in with an ex but something much deeper than that. Eddie places his hands on your shoulders and looks into your eyes, “let’s go sweetheart,” he whispers gently, he crowds behind you and puts a small hand on your back, guiding you forward towards the automatic doors. Eddie keeps his head on a swivel for Chad.

The woman who was with him was waddling towards the bathroom, his eyes never leaving your body. As soon as she was out of ear shot, Chad puffed out his chest and said, “Lookin’ good honey bun, I will say though, the downgrade,” he points to Eddie, “..yikes.”

The nickname made your skin crawl. You never liked it, and he knew that. He only said it to get a rise out of you, which was successful. “See you soon,” he gloated, smiling with perfectly straight teeth, eyes never meeting his smile.

You don’t make it five feet outside before the shock wears off and the tears stream down your face in salty waves. Eddie takes control of the cart with his left hand and ushers you forward with his right, minimal pressure on the small of your back as he keeps his head on a swivel, dark curtain of curls crowding his eyes as he moves his head around.

Unlocking the doors he helps you in, buckling your seatbelt and saying he’d be back in thirty seconds. The back doors of the van fly open as Eddie all but tosses the groceries into the back. At thirty seconds exactly, Eddie is back in the van, starting it and roaring out of the parking lot.

He still didn’t know what happened with Chad, but it wouldn’t take an absolute idiot to know that it was bad. Really fucking bad. He looks over to you and your head is stuffed into your shirt, your knees under your chin and you’re rocking back and forth on the seat.

“Five minutes, Tooty— we’ll be home in less than five minutes, okay?” Eddie says, frantically. He’s trying to stay calm. Trying to be the voice of reason, composed and serene. But he is horrified. Scared to death at how you responded to seeing Chad. How your body froze up and your face looked as if you weren’t breathing. Even now, hearing you gasp for air as your body shook and swayed with each turn he made. He slams on the gas, pausing slightly at stop signs and ignoring any yield signs.

He parks in the driveway, coming around to help you out of the van. Just like he did last night, he carries you, only this time you remember it. Your body is shaking violently, chest racked with sobs. His chest is wet with tears from your face being buried into it. He’s whispering to you that everything will be okay. Opening the door he kicks it shut with his boot. He brings you into your room and sits you on your bed, you’re cradled in his lap, like a parent would hold a child. He caresses your head, holding you closer to him. His warm breath in your hair grounds you. You feel him lean forward grabbing on your nightstand for something, the phone.

He dials the number without even thinking. Waiting impatiently on the other end as a familiar voice answers.

“Hello?” Steve breathes boredly into the phone.

Eddie sighs with relief, “Harrington, it’s me.”

“Oh God, listen dude I don’t know what to te—“

“Shut up, Steve.” Eddie interrupts, “listen—something, happened.”

Steve almost chokes on his popcorn, frantically firing off questions. “What? What’s going on? Is she okay? Are you okay?”

“Ye—no, I mean—“ Eddie is stuttering and trying to explain, “we ran into Chad at the gro—“

“I’m on my way!”

The line goes dead and Eddie hears dial tone. He sets the phone back in the holder and wraps a blanket around you. Your heart is racing and you can’t even form words. You haven’t had a panic attack in over a year. It feels like the world is crashing in on you, the walls are tight and shrinking, the whole room feels smaller by the minute. Eddie’s voice is gentle and soothing, like a warm cup of coffee on a cold winter morning.

“Can you take a deep breath for me?” He murmurs, “try to match your breathing with mine.” He remembers what he was taught as a kid. His emotions always ran high and Wayne would have to settle him down, get him to take deep breaths.

He’s rubbing soft circles into your back. Rocking you back and forth. You try to speak but all that comes out are gasps and the whirling noise of sharp intake of breath.

Steve and Robin make it to the house in record time, running to your room and taking everything in. Your disheveled appearance brings Steve to his knees in front of Eddie. Grabbing your hand and squeezing letting you know it was going to be okay.

You slide off Eddie’s lap and lay on the bed, curled in a ball. Robin lays beside you. Brushing your hair from your face with her fingers.

Steve pulls Eddie out of your room with great force he didn’t want to leave but he didn’t know how to help.

“I’m sorry— fuck man, I’m sorry for calling you — I just— she just locked up. She couldn’t talk, she couldn’t move!” He runs his hands down his face, trying to will the tears away. “I didn’t know what to do.”

“Hey, give yourself a break, you got her home, she’s safe,” Steve says patting Eddie on the back, “so explain what happened.”

Eddie begins explaining from when you both got to the grocery store. He goes into detail how distraught you seemed, how your body was rigid and full of fear. The burn of tears threatening to spill from his eyes has him blinking quick before they fall. Steve listens intently, face warped with shock and disbelief.

Throwing his head back and running his hands down his face Steve lets out a loud exhale and throws his hands on his hips, “fuck I hate that guy.”

“Yeah he seems like a fucking psycho,” Eddie agrees, “but what the fuck is going on?! I mean yeah they dated but, I don’t stiff up like that when I run into Chrissy or Trish.”

A shiver runs down his spine as he thinks of how upset you were, your body crumbling with fear the minute you made it into the van. Anxiety trickling through your body like electricity to a wire. He hated to admit it but he was scared for you.

Remembering the groceries in the back of the van, the two guys brave the sweltering heat to retrieve them. Eddie starts to put the items away, Steve rolls his eyes watching him put the canned items in the small cabinet designed for spices, the endless snacks he purchased thrown on the counter nestled up against the flour canister and slamming the lettuce into the fridge like a bowling ball.

Eddie could give a rats ass where the things went, he was worried and getting a headache from wondering if you were going to be okay. Half thinking he should find where good ol Chad lived and pay him a nice little visit. Only three tires slashed and the insurance won’t cover it.

Throwing the groceries sacks in the garbage and making his way to the living room, sitting down on the couch, he sits with his elbows on his knees, bouncing them in quick repetitions. “So are you gonna tell me what’s going on or should I put a paper fortune teller on my fingers and we can decide what’s wrong with Tooty with the help of crayola markers?”

The wailing cries and sobs have dissipated in the last half hour, only Robin’s soothing words can be heard now.

“Dude, it’s not my place to say,” Steve says, “it’s one thing to tell you about her parents and Kevin, but this—“ he takes another deep breath, running his hands through his thick tufts of hair, “this is 100 times worse than that,” Steve explains lowering his head.

“…But you’re right, you’re her roommate and you should know what happened.”

Eddie nods his head slowly, silently agreeing with everything Steve had said. Standing quickly and pacing around the living room, his mind is running a million miles a minute. The fight you two had didn’t matter, the only thing that mattered to him in this moment— the only thing on his mind for the past twelve hours— was you.

Steve stands and runs his fingers through his hair, placing his hands on the waist of the old fading green gym shorts he was wearing. “I’m gonna go talk to her, and when you guys are done, I’m gonna make you guys something to eat. I’m sure you idiots haven’t eaten today given the timing of when shit hit the fan.”

Eddie nods again, biting the fingernails on his right hand until they bled, a habit he hadn’t done since he was a teen, facing possible jail time for destructing private property when he spray painted, “Your mom swallowed EM’s monster cock” on the front doors of Hawkins High. He was pacing, itching for a cigarette. Pulling the pack from his flannel breast pocket he goes outside and sits on the concrete steps, lighting up.

Three squashed cigarette butts sit next to him on the step before Steve finds him. Eddie stands and stubs the cigarette out blowing smoke out of the crooked twist of his lips away from Steve’s face. The nicotine helped take the edge off but he was still anxious, fidgeting his rings.

“H-how is she?” Eddie asks apprehensively, “can I talk to her?”

“She’s better, taking deep breaths and relaxing as best as he can, she’s gonna explain everything, just give her space— let her talk and don’t ask anything until she’s finished.”

“Yeah, ‘f course.”

“Alright. Robin is gonna help me make supper,” Steve says holding opening the front door, face in a grimace he jokes, “wish me luck.”

Eddie was the one who thought he himself needed the luck, he was scared shitless that you were afraid of him.

He walks gently to your room and knocks softly on the door with one knuckle, palm facing him. He remembers just hours ago how he was standing at this very door, and how very different he felt then.

“Come in,” Robin chirps.

Eddie takes a quick breath holding it as he steps foot into your room. You’re sitting on your bed cross legged, blanket wrapped around your shoulders. Your eyes are red rimmed and tissues surrounding you, a cemetery of drying tears. You look at him and muster a smile, a twitch of your lips raising at the corners.

“Well, I’m needed as a sous chef in kitchen a la Harrington,” Robin says brightly, standing from the bed and skipping towards the door. When she passes Eddie she touches his arm squeezing and giving him a reassuring nod.

Eddie stands with his hands stuffed in his pockets as the door clicks shut. You both don’t say anything for a while, you’re twirling the end of the pillowcase in your lap and he’s burning holes with his eyes into the carpet.

“I’m really sorry, Eddie,” you say quietly, “I’m—“ your voice catches in your throat, sore from the the wailing, “I’m hoping that when I’m done telling you, you’ll be able to understand..”

He nods and leans against the wall. Hands wrapped around his triceps.

“Before I explain— I just need you to know that only Robin, Steve, Nancy, and her parents know about this— not my parents, or Kev or anyone else— and now you.

Eddie’s face is full of concern, he whispers an “okay,” and you continue.

“I can’t remember but I’m pretty sure that you and Chrissy started dating around the same time that Chad and I did, and as you remember I’m sure, Chad and I were together almost all the time. When you graduated, and my sophomore year was the year my parents moved away— things changed with him. He was suddenly callous about everything, needing control of who I was with and when. Mostly he was pissed that I was staying with the Wheeler’s. He always thought I was cheating on him with Mike.”

Eddie rolled his eyes, the Mike Wheeler he knew wouldn’t know what to do if a chick laid butt naked in his bed. Probably piss himself.

You work the corner of the pillow case in your fingers as you keep going, “The first time he hit me was on a night that I told him I couldn’t hang out because Mrs. Wheeler wanted everyone home for supper. He called me a slut and told me that I should just go and fuck Mike already even though he knew I wasn’t.”

Eddie’s eyes flicker with anger when you admit that Chad hit you, his fists clenched together tightly. With your head down and looking away from him you continue, your voice wobbly.

“We didn’t even have sex yet, at that time, I wasn’t ready. After he hit me, I thought we should break up. He followed me around, begging me to take him back and like the naive kid that I was, I did. He would be sweet for a few weeks, and then it was like a flip would switch and he’d back hand me for giving Lucas a pencil during History, pulled my hair out in chunks when Mike brought me to school, he even choked me until I passed out when Dustin sat next to me at lunch. He was extremely jealous of everyone around him, and couldn’t handle seeing anyone he didn’t ‘approve of’ be near me. He hated that I worked at Family Video, he would show up almost every shift and wait in the store for me to clock out, even threatening to kick Steve’s ass on more than one occasion. He finally gave up on that when I told him Steve was dating Robin, just so I could go to work in peace.”

Eddie’s gut is rolling, the anger boiling in his blood, his nostrils are flared, it is taking everything in him to not react the way he wants to, a simple trailer park style beating to Chad’s car, his face, whatever would hurt the little prick more. Heads would fucking roll if Eddie ever got ahold of him.

“It didn’t end there. Like I said, we weren’t having sex because I wasn’t ready, I had enough shit going on with my parents up and leaving and buying all the concealer that Melvald’s carried to cover up the bruises.”

You take a shaky breath, fighting back tears for as long as you could. Chewing the inside of your lip and un crossing your legs, bringing your knees to your chest you continue.

“Af—After prom our junior year, we were driving around and he was drinking, I just wanted to go home but he didn’t. He parked way outside of town on the south side, on some dead end road… I mouthed off to him about how cliche it was to lose our virginities on prom night and the next thing I knew,” your voice pitches to a high volume, your lips are tight as you remember the pain you felt in your head from him knocking you out, the way his hands were groping your body, “I was waking up to him on top of me, and inside of me.”

The dam breaks, the tears fall from your eyes like rain in the spring time. You throw your head back against your headboard and sniff loudly, your palms pressed to your eyes.

Eddie doesn’t know what to do, he’s afraid if he tried to comfort you it would only cause you more pain. Against his better judgment he stands and walks towards the bed, scooting across the lavender bedspread he sits across from you, reaching for your ankle and tenderly squeezing it, letting you know that he was there.

“I’ve never felt more alone in my entire life then when I was dating him,” you sniffle and reach for the tissues, blowing your nose loudly, “Eddie, this went on for years, it didn’t fucking stop. After senior year, he didn’t want me to go to college, because I would be too far away from him, and we argued and he kicked me out on the opposite side of town with two swelling black eyes. By the time I made it back to the Wheeler’s, my eyes were almost shut. That night, I told Ted and a very hysterical, Karen everything, and they called the cops. Of course, Tim Cunningham was the state prosecutor at the time, so it didn’t go far— Hop did what he could but there was never any judgment made against Chad, and everything was over after that.”

“I went to beauty school with Nance, and when we moved back home, I was living in the little apartments off of Sawmill Road, he found out where I was and broke in, luckily Steve and Robin were my neighbors so they heard everything and came running before he could hurt me.

“After that.. Ted and Karen bought this place for Nancy and I and last year I saved up enough and bought it from them. Last I heard, Chad had moved to Indianapolis and was working for his uncle at the law firm until he finished school. I haven’t seen him in over two years— anyway,” you finish, wiping your eyes, and blowing your nose once more, “that’s the story.”

Eddie doesn’t know where to begin, he partially is taking the blame for what happened to you, knowing that if he were there, if he had stuck it out with Chrissy maybe he could have seen the signs, maybe he could have stopped it before it ever started, maybe he could have put that little fucker in his place and made him think twice about ever touching you again. He’s full of regret, full of shame and turmoil as he thinks about how you must have been feeling this morning.

“Oh, Tooty.” Eddie starts his eyes glistening with wetness, heart aching for you, “I’m so sorry, Jesus Christ, I— I don’t even… Fuck! I should have been around.”

“There wasn’t anything anyone could have done— he’s a lunatic.” You take a breath and look down at his hand on your ankle, abandoning the thought of reaching for it at the last minute, “I know you would never do something to hurt me, or anyone— I’m sorry about last night Eddie. I just, I don’t ever get drunk enough to not remember what happened. Not after the shit I’ve been through. ” You fold your arms into your self, wrapping around your ribs, in a small voice you whisper, “and today when I couldn’t remember, I was fucking terrified—going right back to how I felt that night when I was sixteen.”

In the van today, he fully intended on chewing you out, making you feel about three inches tall. He had been accused of many different things during his teenage years. Hell he even spent a night or two in jail after fighting a guy in Indianapolis when he threw a beer at Gareth. But one thing Wayne taught him was to respect women. Sure he wasn’t the average guy, his lever leaned a little further towards pervert than most. But he would never hurt a woman. The way you looked right now scared him. Like you were afraid to be near him. Unsure if he would scream at you or worse. And it broke his heart.

“Sweetheart,” he says, leaning forward, finger dipping under your chin and tilting your head up so you were looking right at him. A fresh brim of tears clung to your lashes, “as long as I’m here, being the thorn in your side, pain in the ass, good looking mother fucker that I am— you don’t ever have to be scared again.”

You shutter, body exhausted and giving in, letting the tears fall.

“Promise?”

Your doe eyes are wet and staring into his, the swirling chocolate of his eyes, melted as he looks into your soul. Shedding any walls around his heart, baring himself of his discretions, his eyes are deeper than the galaxy. You swear you’ve never seen anything prettier in your life. You can feel your frigid heart thawing for the first time in years.

“Always.”

You never thought a single word could have so much meaning, a sense of security washed over you with Eddie’s promising word. A silent devotion from his eyes of keeping you safe and out of harm's way. You felt your soul open up to him. A higher power bringing you closer to him. You reach down and grab his hand. Rubbing the rough knuckles and tracing the rings on his fingers. An angel’s smile dances on Eddie’s lips. He decides right there, in that moment, that he would be whatever you needed. For as long as you needed him. Because he needed you.

///

SEE YOU IN VOLUME VI

a/n: hope you enjoyed this, it was a little rough but the next chapter is pure fluff 💋

#eddie munson angst #eddie munson #eddie x you #eddie x fem!reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x reader #eddie x y/n #honey i’m home

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jazzthatonewriterchick · 1 month

Text

After Hours (Boss!Geto x Assistant!Self-Insert!Reader 18+ One Shot) [COMMISSION FILL]

Pairing: Geto Suguru x Self-Insert!Reader

Synopsis: In which Geto Suguru, your boss, and owner of his own public relations firm, celebrates a job well done on a five-month-long project with you, his trusty secretary, but what was once a friendly, professional relationship between you turns into something else when the staff goes home for the night and champagne gets involved.

Warnings: Smutty Smut; 18+ (MINORS GTFO); Reader is Black, Fem & Plus-Sized!; Crush Confession; Boss/Secretary; Some Power Play; Sexual Tension; Coworkers to Lovers; Office Sex; Mild BDSM; MDom/fsub; Geto Pours Champagne on the Titties & Kitty; Temperature/Sensory Play; Ice Play; Cunnilingus; Sex Against the Window; Geto Got a Big Ol' Dick; Unprotected PIV; Mutual O; Cum on Ass; Aftercare; Surprise Ending

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!

Writer’s Note: Once again, a big thank you to @curiouscutie143 for allowing me to bring her fantasies to life. I had so much fun writing boss!Geto & now I wanna lowkey write a longer fic about an office romance with him. Enjoy! -Jazz

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“Cheers,” your boss says with a smile. “To the successful end of this stupid fucking waste of time.”

You laugh, lightly clinking your champagne flute with the extremely handsome, wealthy, intoxicating man sitting next to you on his office couch…who also, again, happens to be your boss. “It wasn’t a waste,” you giggle. “But I will say it was very time-consuming. At least we got it done in time.”

Geto Suguru hums in agreement as he takes a sip of the champagne in unison with you, making even that look hot.

He is truly a man to behold with his long, black hair he kept tied into a respectable ponytail, a lean build under his button-down and slacks, gage earrings that he purposely kept in for tonight’s festivities, brown eyes you could swim in forever, and tattoos that he usually keeps hidden beneath his blazers and designer suit jackets, but tonight are exposed under his rolled-up sleeves.

He puts all models and men to shame with his beauty. And wealth! He is his own boss and CEO of his own PR firm which he has owned for over six years now. It skyrocketed in popularity in only a year, earning the title of the 6th most popular business in Japan which has jumped to 2nd place on that list. You joined his team two years later as his personal secretary after working as an assistant for his HR team.

Geto, who interviewed and hired you, was so impressed with your work and presentation that he offered you the job. “I need a personal secretary,” he explained to you, “and I think you’d be the perfect fit.” Two years later, you’re still here and you don’t see yourself going anywhere else. Geto is a wonderful boss who offers great pay, supreme benefits, and understands the importance of mental health days.

Though he doesn’t allow anyone to play with him or his money. If he suspects that an employee is not giving him the most on the clock or is taking advantage of his kindness, he will either straighten them out himself with a private meeting or send them on their way. However, he is a kind, respectable, understanding man that you are honored to have worked for for four years.

And a man that you have embarrassingly been crushing on for four years. “All thanks to you,” he praises. “I can’t tell you enough how grateful I am to you, V. Seriously; I so appreciate all of those times you’ve stayed late with me and the team and set up all of those lunch meetings and conference calls.”

Those eyes, so generous and kind, smile at you in his spacious, luxurious office. Seriously; Geto’s office is like a damn penthouse stretching over 900 square feet with polished marbled floors and open-brick walls. A kitchenette, coffee section, wine mini bar, and bathroom sit on the left side of the office while his mahogany desk and bookcase sit on the right.

His lounging section, or “decompression area” as he calls it, sits smack dab in the middle, included with two chairs and a couch you both currently occupy with a glass coffee table sitting in the middle.

Though the office is wide enough for space, you feel as if the walls are closing in on you the more you sit and stare at Geto. “Well, that’s my job anyway,” you joke, clearing your throat. “It was no trouble, Mr. Geto, really! I’m honored you chose me to work with you on this.”

Geto scoffs, raising an eyebrow at you as he begins to loosen his tie with one hand. “You thought I wouldn’t?” he chuckles. “You’re my trusted assistant and a great employee. Plus, dealing with people is your specialty, unlike me. If anyone was needed on this project, it was you.”

You feel like you flush as red as the cocktail dress you are wearing despite the fact you’re as Black as your mama.

Tonight was the celebration of your five-month project ending. Geto has been interested in partnerships and merging his firm with other companies, especially tech companies. When a popular tech firm in Germany reached out, it took about five months to get everything finalized and a lot of reaching out to multiple people.

You sweated over this project, doing work at home, setting up meetings, and sometimes staying late with Geto and his business team where he ordered Chinese and pizza for the crew around dinnertime.

There were also days and nights when everyone wasn’t here then you’d be with Geto in his office, typing up memos and emails he would think of at the top of his head. But you didn’t mind. Not only did your boss pay you overtime for all the hours you spent working on this, but it also meant you could spend more time with him.

Finally, just a week ago, the project was completed and Geto’s partnership was greenlit. All staff was invited to the party, including those who didn’t even work on it, to celebrate such a milestone for Geto’s firm. Food, alcohol, and music were all included, lasting from 5 PM to 9 at night.

You danced and sang karaoke with your coworkers and friends, trying to get Geto to join in though it was like trying to pull teeth out of his mouth. He looks more relaxed now as he loosens his tie and pops a collar to his shirt, revealing the column of his throat and toned chest. You look away, feeling warm.

“Now I can finally rest without hurrying here at 6 AM to prepare for meetings or deal with that stupid fucking Excel chart,” he huffs, revealed. “And we’re blessed with a new partnership. Praise God or whoever.” He points his glass to the ceiling before taking a sip of the Brüte champagne. You giggle, feeling his relief.

Suddenly, the door to his office opens and you startle as if you were just caught in a very compromising position with your boss. Gojo Satoru, your supervisor, Geto’s right hand, and the heart throb of the office (understandably since the man is just as fine as Geto), pokes his snow-white head into the room.

“You two still in here?” he scoffs, glaring at you beneath his glasses. “Oooh, are those more of those cupcake cheesecakes?” He strides into the room and bends down to pluck one of the tiny cakes off of Geto’s desk, but Geto chucks a pillow at him. “Uh-uh, greedy,” he criticizes. “You barely left any of the food at the party earlier. Besides, aren’t you goin’ for dinner now?”

Gojo catches the pillow with one hand, grinning. “Dinner and drinks,” he cackles. “Shoko, Yuki, and I were wonderin’ if you two wanted to come along and not be boring for once.” He slips his glasses down his nose and winks at you, indicating that he’s joking.

Knowing his game and having this relationship with Gojo, you play along. “I am not boring,” you scoff, putting a hand to your chest. “My cat thinks I’m a lot of fun at 3 AM, thank you very much. I put on all kinds of concerts for her!”

Geto gives a big laugh that lights your insides up while Gojo physically cringes. “Fun to us isn’t just downing shots and passin’ out on our couch, Satoru,” your boss scoffs. His friend takes a moment to think about it, sitting down on the edge of Geto’s desk. “Okay, point taken, but the offer is still open. C’mon, we need to celebrate and it’s a Friday night!”

Even with his friend’s whining, Geto shakes his head, looking apologetic. “Thanks, but not tonight,” he sighs. “I wanted to clean up my office a bit before I head home and get some much-needed sleep.”

Gojo takes his glasses off and rolls his ocean-blue eyes. “Such an old man,” he huffs. “What about you, Ms. V? You up for some fun with me?” The gorgeous, Colgate smile he gives you is full of temptation, but you’ve already had enough drinking and dancing for tonight.

“Thank you, Satoru,” you sweetly say, “but I have to get ready for a family event tomorrow. My mom is forcing me to help cook.” You get up from the couch and saunter over to him, barely seeing his eyes glazing over your hips. “Buuut if y’all ever decide to have another night out, let me know and I’ll put it on my calendar.”

You take the pillow from him and offer him a sweet smile which he returns. It damn near makes him prettier. “Will do,” he replies. His phone suddenly dings and he sighs. “That’s Shoko chewin’ me out,” he announces, slipping off the desk and heading to the door on his long legs. “I’ll see you two kids later. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do…or do. I don’t give a fuck.”

He gives you another wink and a smile before slipping out of the office and shutting the door behind him. “Have fun!” you call after him. Once he leaves, you realize how quiet the building seems. “Any of the janitors still here?” you curiously ask Geto.

He is still sitting on the couch, one arm draped over the back of the couch and still sipping his champagne. “Nah, I sent everybody home after the party ended.” He gives you a curious look, almost looking like a puppy...or maybe that’s just the champagne getting to you. You only had a half of glass at the party and now you find your current glass empty.

“How come you didn’t want to go with Satoru, if you don’t mind me asking?” he suddenly asks, his head cocked to the side. You don’t mind since Geto and you have a very “close” relationship.

It’s one of the closest you have at work, ironically enough. You know what his condo looks like having visited there before to deliver papers and packages that accidentally came to the office.

You know his birthday and he knows yours, even sending you flowers to your apartment every year, each one bigger and more beautiful than the last.

You talk about anything that annoys or bothers you when you find yourselves together, even sometimes having lunch together (for work purposes).

You would say that he is almost like your work husband, but that would be pushing it. You find yourself needing to remind yourself that he’s your boss! No matter how good he looks in his suits or the way you feel when he praises your work, you must remember that. This is your job. Your responsibility.

“Eh,” you sigh with a shrug. “Sometimes, I just like being home to unwind and relax. Nothing beats a glass of wine, a hot bath, and a movie.” Geto nods, understanding.

“What about you?” you curiously ask as you sit back down beside him. “Why didn’t you go with Gojo? He’s your best friend, right?”

Geto drains the rest of his glass before pouring another. “Unfortunately,” he jokes, making you laugh. He seems to enjoy that. “Nah, but I’m the same: sometimes, I like to unwind with some drinks and social outings, and other times, I just chill at home in my very spacious, very lonely condo with my dog. When you’re the owner of a PR firm, it’s usually the second one.”

You can’t help but feel sad about that. “So was that story about your mom a lie?” he asks with a smirk. Sheepishly, you nod. “So I’m guessin’ that show for your cat is the move for tonight?”

You would say yes, but something pulls you back. You don’t know if it’s the champagne or the way Geto’s cologne smells, but something is keeping you glued to the couch with him. “W-Well, I was gonna say I can help you clean up your office if you want…a-and drink the rest of this champagne!” You pick up the bottle and pour yourself another glass, raising it to him.

Geto looks taken aback as he clinks his glass with yours. “I mean…if you want,” he hesitantly says. “You absolutely don’t have to stay for my sake, V. You’re not on the clock.”

You flush, not wanting him to think you’re weird for staying here or that you have ulterior motives (which you do). “It’s okay!” you laugh, waving your manicured hand. “Really! Call me weird, but I kind of like organizing.”

Geto laughs at this, getting up from the couch. “Well, now I know why your office is so pristine,” he chuckles. “Lemme turn on some music then.”

You watch him as he walks over this his desk, shamelessly ogling his firm, toned, juicy ass in his slacks. You would give so much to feel it in your hands, your nails digging into the flesh while his hips grind against yours, his cock buried deep inside your–

The sound of a piano mixed with horns and a smooth bass makes you jump, deep in your naughty thoughts. Geto sighs and his shoulders loosen as he presses the volume up on his Bluetooth, happy and relaxed.

“Jazz music?” you snort. He gives you a sheepish smirk. “I know, I know: I’m an old man.” To make him feel better, you begin to snap your fingers, albeit offbeat, and that makes him laugh even harder.

For the next hour, you sit with your boss and help him organize his office while downing champagne. While he rearranges items on his desk, you lounge on his couch with your heels off and organize documents, either throwing some away or keeping some to file. You talk every so often about everything––new movies, restaurants, plans for the summer, etc. But the silence that follows these conversations isn’t awkward, but peaceful and comfortable. You feel relaxed with Geto.

“So what’s the plan for this weekend?” he suddenly asks as he organizes his bookcase. “Maybe a date or something?” You pause, not sure why this question is making you feel so frazzled. “If that’s too personal, I understand,” he quickly adds, noticing your reluctance to answer.

You push your glass away, having already finished your second glass. You feel bubbly and loose, the alcohol sinking its claws into you. “No,” you reply, sheepishly so. “No dating for me right now with work and everything. Maybe one day if I find the right person.”

Geto hums and goes back to organizing his books. You continue to work, mostly to give your hands something to do. “What about you?” you ask. “With your kinda money, you could take a weekend trip to Mexico for the hell of it, if you wanted!”

Your boss suddenly turns, his expression stoic and a brow raised. “Exactly how much money do you think I have, Ms. L/N?” he asks in a deep voice that makes your pussy jump.

At first, you think you went too far but then you see the corner of his mouth flick upwards. “Like you don’t have a condo,” you scoff. “Which I know because I’ve sent you packages from work and secret admirers before.”

Geto’s brows wrinkle cutely. “Secret admirers?” he parrots. You nod, already giggling at one particular memory. “You remember the flowers sent here when you were sick with COVID that time?”

He blinks, clueless, and then his eyes widen. “Ohhh, yeah!” he laughs, tossing his head back. “God, Gojo wouldn’t leave me alone about that for weeks. She was an old partner of mine who heard through the grapevine that I was sick.” He turns and leans against his bookcase, his, big, tatted arms crossed over his chest.

“Oh!” you exclaim, still shuffling papers. You want to give yourself something to do as the next question gnaws at you. “A…business partner?” you carefully ask. You never knew who this woman was that sent Geto the flowers; only that you didn’t know her but she knew your boss.

“Yes, ma’am,” he replies, giving you a smile that looks almost saddened. “I haven’t dated anyone long-term in over two years. Like you said, maybe one day if I find the right person, but that hasn’t happened yet.” He chuckles to himself. “You’d think it’d be easy with my status, right?”

You don’t say anything for a while and the silence becomes thick even with the music playing. When he turns around to finish his work, you finally get up the nerve to speak to his backside.

When you start, you can’t stop yourself, the champagne overflowing out of your mouth. “You know, if it’s any consolation to you, I-I think you’d deserve to meet someone nice,” you stutteringly say. “You’re a very good man, Mr. Geto.”

And then he turns slowly to you and the way the city lights from the window reflect on his shocked face and in his eyes makes you realize what you just said. “V,” he says, his voice breathless and soft. You cover your mouth but it’s too late. You can’t take them back. “Shit, I shouldn’t have said that,” you quietly gasp.

Immediately, you get up, but the papers you were organizing fall from your lap onto the floor.

“I’m so, so sorry!” you squeak. “I-I should leave!” You’re near tears, a hot rush of humiliation falling on you. You fall onto your knees and begin picking up the papers, swearing as you do.

“No, no, V,” Geto says, walking toward you. “It’s okay. You don’t have to be sorry.”

“No, I do!” you protest. “That was totally inappropriate! I don’t know why I–” You pause when your finger catches against the edge of a sheet of paper too quickly and it slices into your skin.

“Ow!” you hiss, immediately snatching your hand away and dropping the paper.

Quickly, Geto stops the music and rushes over to you. He kneels down in front of you, crushing the papers under his knees as if they mean nothing. “What happened?” he demands.

You silently show him your bleeding finger, whimpering at the sting. “Lemme see,” he says, already taking your hand. He examines the cut and frowns at it. “Oh, honey, it cut you deep,” he coos, the pet name making your stomach flip. He’s never called you that before. “Here, don’t move,” he orders and quickly hurries to his bathroom.

He returns with a first aid kit and coaxes you to sit up on the couch. He takes your wounded finger in one hand, holding an alcohol swab in the other. “It may sting a bit,” he warns. “Just squeeze my leg if it’s too much.” And it does sting. You hiss and grip his thigh as he cleans the cut, watching your expression. “That’s it,” he softly coos. “Good girl.”

Your stomach flutters and your body grows hot at the very inappropriate pet name, but what is more inappropriate are the past thoughts you’ve had about him calling you a good girl. His good girl. He smiles at you when he finishes cleaning the cut. “Hard part’s over,” he chuckles. “Now I’ll just add some antibacterial cream and a band-aid to make it all better.”

You stay quiet as he applies the cream to your cut, his touch soft and gentle. “I’m sorry, Mr. Geto,” you whisper. He narrows his eyes at you. “What are you talkin’ about?” he scoffs. “V, you didn’t do anything wrong. It was just an accident. You could never do anything to upset me…except think that you don’t deserve to date right now.”

The silence around you swells the instant he says it. “W-What?” you whisper, gaping at him. He continues his work, now wrapping the band-aid around your finger. “Y’know, if it’s any consolation to you, you deserve to meet the right man too. You’re so sweet and smart and beautiful…who wouldn’t want you?”

Finally, he finishes and just looks at you. You look at him too, both of you just staring at each other in the dimly lit office. Geto finally breaks and pinches the bridge of the nose. “God, I really shouldn’t have said that,” he groans. “We shouldn’t be doing any of this.”

Seeing his internal battle and realizing that he feels the same way you do, you keep your hand on his thigh and squeeze. “Suguru,” you softly say. “It’s okay.”

He looks at you in shock. This is the first time you’ve ever used his first name, especially when talking to him. He moves closer to you, making the room feel like it’s shrinking. The city lights reflect in his eyes through the window, twinkling at you. “Say my name again,” he demands but it’s more like a plea. “Tell me what you want me to do, V. You can tell me to stop and I will.”

You know this is very bad. You know this is wrong. You know that if you do this, you can never go back to the way things were. But you can’t turn back at this point. “Suguru,” you say again, “please. I want this.” You trail your hand up to his chest, feeling his heart pound against your fingertips. “I’ve wanted you for 5 years,” you confess.

The restraint in Geto’s eyes finally dissipates and he places his hand on top of yours. “Fuck,” he growls. “I’ve wanted this too, V. You have no fuckin’ idea.” He takes both of your hands in his, gently stroking your knuckles with his thumb. “Can I kiss you?” he asks. You damn near choke, feeling like you’re about to faint.

He scoots closer, close enough to do so himself…but he doesn’t. “I need your words, mama,” he murmurs.

Finally, you find the will to speak: “Yes,” you whimper and it’s enough to make Geto melt. “Kiss me, Suguru.” Immediately, he swoops in and takes you into his arms, holding you against him as he places the hottest, most passionate kiss you’ve ever had on your lips.

His lips are soft and wet against yours, pulling you in farther and farther. You wrap your arms around him, pulling him flush against you. If this were a romantic comedy, there would be fireworks popping off outside the same way they are in your head. Geto pulls away, softly panting. “Keep talkin’ to me,” he whispers. “Tell me what you want from me.”

He swoops in to kiss you again, drowning out your soft moans. “Touch me,” you plea into his mouth. “Put your hands on me, Suguru.”

He does just that, his big hands moving down your hips to pull you into his lap. You wrap your arms tight around his neck like a koala bear, latching onto his body. Geto wouldn’t have it any other way. He loves how your soft, pudgy body feels against him and sitting on top of him, your heat radiating from between your thighs against his crotch. Your kisses grow deeper and wetter, your tongues swirling against each other, arousing the both of you.

“You’re wearing too much,” you whisper, tugging at his collar. He sniggers against your lips, his hands gripping your ass. “So are you,” he chuckles. “But we can help each other with that, can’t we?” Even without the seduction in his gaze, you wouldn’t resist.

You begin to pop his buttons, yank off his tie, and peel his shirt off while he unzips your dress. You beat him, successfully getting him semi-naked. At the feeling and sight of his toned abs, pecs, and tatted, tanned skin, you damn near get a nosebleed. “Like whatcha see, babydoll?” he purrs. “Because I’m lovin’ what I’m seein’ right now.”

He coaxes you to stand up in front of him and finally peels off your dress, exposing your lace bra and panties to him. At the sight of you standing between his thighs in only your underwear, stockings, and heels, Geto almost busts a nut. You’re so fucking beautiful, babydoll, shit,” he hisses.

His hands glide down your sides before pulling you closer. You allow him to do what he wants, loving whatever he does, especially when he latches his lips onto your brown nipples. While he sucks and laps at your nipples, alternating between each, his big hands mold and fondle each juicy breast that his mouth can’t occupy.

Your sultry, slutty moans are like music to him, way better than the jazz. “Fuck!” you moan. “Suguru…that feels so good!” Your head falls back and your eyes close, the pleasure immense. He’s so, so good with his mouth! You wonder just how good he is eating pussy.

Geto suddenly looks up at you, his mouth still latched onto your hardened, brown nipple.

“Lay back on the couch and put your arms over your head,” he orders you. You do so, shivering in delight at him telling you what to do. He then takes his empty champagne glass off of the table and pours himself a glass.

“Lemme try something,” he pants before slowly pouring some of the champagne over your breasts. You gasp as each cold, little droplet hits your skin, making your nipples even harder. He then swoops down and begins to lap at the champagne, drinking it from between your cleavage and lapping it off your nipples.

“Mmm,” you softly moan, melting into the couch cushion. You’re so relaxed that you barely notice the ice cube in Geto’s mouth until he’s dragging it over your neck and tits. You gasp, your back arching into his cold lips.

He smiles, leaning back up with the ice cube in his mouth and giving you an open-mouth kiss. The ice cube falls into your mouth, immediately melting. “That feel good, babydoll?” he chuckles, loving the way your skin jumped at the cold ice cube.

He continues to suck on your nipples while you grind your hips against his thigh wedged between your thighs. “My, you’re so vocal,” he hums. “Thank God the staff ain’t here or we’d be in big trouble.” He then sits up, straddling you, and slowly takes down his ponytail. Watching his locks of black hair cascade over his shoulders and back is more than you can handle.

“I need more of you,” he says, sounding hoarse and in need. “Is it okay if I taste you, babydoll? I’ve been dreaming of what you’d feel like against my tongue for so long.” He doesn’t touch you. Not until you say so. Consent being so important to him makes you wetter, your cunt throbbing against his knee. “Yes, sir,” you moan. “Please taste me. I’m yours.”

He yanks you closer by your legs, making you squeal. “Keep saying that,” he demands. He then hunkers down in between your legs, peppering your jiggly, luscious thighs in kisses. “I’m yours,” you say, a laugh slipping out of you.

He takes your panties off of you, leaving your heels on. “I’m yours,” you gasp as his lips make contact with your fatter, softer ones down under. His tongue laps and licks at your folds, caressing your clit. He then begins to gently suck on the tiny bud, making your toes curl. “I’m yours, Suguru, fuck!” you moan, your hands lacing in his hair. “Please do that again!”

Geto smirks against your pussy. “What?” he chuckles. “You mean this?” He does the same move again, this time swirling his tongue around your clit.

The pleasure is overwhelming, making your mind blank and emitting the sluttiest sounds out of you. “Shit, Sugu, yes, fuck!” you pant. “You’re s-so…oooo, fuck, baby, right there!”

Geto continues to feast on your pussy, eating it up like it’s his last meal for a while. “Goddamn, you’re so fuckin’ cute,” he groans against your slit, his tongue sliding down to your asscrack before sliding back up. “I like seein’ you like this. Keep makin’ more of those sounds for me, babydoll. That’s an order.”

You can’t help it, so you do it, making as many moans, whines, and grunts as he wants. With the way he works his mouth against your pussy, it’s impossible to not. But when his hands move up to tweak and pinch your nipples, you almost explode.

“Yes, like that!” you whine. “I love that so much! Keep goin’, sir, please, sh-sh-shit!” You begin to grind your clit against his nose while his tongue explores your insides, his hot, wet mouth and cushiony lips too much to bear. You can’t take much more of this! “Shit, Suguru!” you moan. “Fuck, sir, I’m gonna cum!”

“Mmm-hmm,” Geto hums, slipping his tongue out of you. He begins to suck on your throbbing clit again, making you see heaven. “Say the magic word,” he coos against your clit. Your hands grip his hair as your back arches into his ministrations, needing more. “Please, sir!” you whine. “Please, please let me cum! I need it, please!”

His chocolate eyes peer up at you through the V of your thighs, demanding you to give him what he wants. “Give it to me, babydoll,” he orders. “Cum all over me. Fuckin’ do it.” As his voice drops several octaves, you feel shivers travel up and down your spine. Your core begins to tighten more and more as you grind against his magical mouth over and over again.

When you cum, you cum hard. You’ve never had such an intense orgasm before. It tears through you, making you nearly arch off of the bed as you explode in Geto’s mouth. Moans and cries of pleasure leave your lips, tingles of ecstasy coursing through you. The man between your legs hungrily laps at your pussy, slurping up all of the cream that you give him.

Finally, after several seconds, you come down from your high, aching in the best way possible. Geto pulls away with a sigh, his lips dripping with you. “You’re way better than the champagne,” he chuckles, licking your juices off of his lips. “Now I need more.”

He seems to shift into a whole other person the more you look at him. His eyes darken and his hands massage your thighs a lot more as if he can’t get enough of them. “I’m sorry, babydoll, but you seem to have made me into a fiend,” he growls. “If you don’t want this, tell me now before I bust a hole through these pants.”

He grips his hard-on pushing into his slacks and your eyes have never stretched so wide before.

“B-But what about–”

“You don’t need to take care of me,” he interrupts. “What you can do is lay back and let me fuck you like I need to.” He gazes down at you, molten lust evident in his eyes. “Will you let me, V?” he asks. “Is that okay with you?”

Is that okay with you? Your pussy is dripping at the mention of finally getting what she and you both want. Finally!

Instinctively, you open your legs for him, exposing your soaked pussy to his naked eyes only. “Fuck me, sir,” you purr. “I want you so bad. Please, just fuck me now.”

Geto doesn’t need to be told twice. After planting another rough, wet kiss on your lips, he unzips his pants and shrugs his boxers down to his waist.

Like a Jack-in-the-Box, his cock springs up, fat, long, and throbbing. You practically salivate at the sight of it. Smirkingly, Geto wraps a hand around himself and slowly slides himself home inside the wet, spongy walls of your pretty cunt, emitting a gasp from the both of you.

He looks down at you expectantly, waiting for you to give him the go to move. Once you have adjusted to his size and girth, you put your hands on his shoulders and nod, giving him a reassuring smile.

He settles on top of you, keeping his arms on either side of you to hold himself up, and slowly begins to rock his hips. As soon as he begins to sheathe his cock in and out of you, you feel the pleasure you felt before return but it’s increased by 100. You are overwhelmed with ecstasy every time Geto pumps his cock inside of you and his pelvis rubs against your clit, unable to hold back the slutty sounds dripping from your open mouth.

Geto smiles down at you, loving how adorable you look underneath him as you take his cock. He holds himself up with one hand to hold one of your juicy tits in his hand, loving how it jiggles as he fucks himself down into you. “So needy for me,” he sighs. “So fuckin’ cute.” His hips piston into yours just right, nailing that spot again and again as he fucks you into the couch.

“Fuck, Sugu!” you cry, gripping his broad shoulders. “Please go faster! Fuck me faster, sir!” His handsome face flushed and black strands of hair falling in his face, Geto gives you what he wants. He sits up and grips your fleshy thighs before pumping his cock deeper and faster into you, causing the sounds of your moans to grow louder.

If anyone were to be outside of the office right now, they would immediately know what’s going down in Mr. Geto Suguru’s office. The sound of sex–grunts, moans, whimpers, couch springs bouncing, skin slapping against skin–is way too obvious to pass it off as something else. The idea of that makes you wetter and tighter around Geto’s cock. It makes him damn near insane.

Unable to control himself any longer, his big hands move under your ass to pull you to him.

He then sits up with you and slowly stands, lifting you up with him. You gasp, gripping onto him tight like a cobra, and he chuckles. “I’ve got you, honey. Don’t worry, just hold onto me.” You do so as he walks over to his office window, the glittering lights of the city gleaming back at you. He slowly puts you down and wordlessly stares at you, his gaze dark and oh-so seductive.

You don’t have to ask what he wants. Immediately, you turn around and place your hands on the cold glass of the window, sticking your ass out for him. “Damn, I didn’t even have to tell you to assume the position,” he chuckles. “I guess you’re feenin’ too.” His hand caresses your asscheeks, his thick fingers massaging them.

You look down at the streets below, seeing people walking their dogs and having a night out on the town. You’ve never done anything like this before, but the idea of having sex in front of a window where anyone could look up and see you makes you wetter than you’ve ever been in your life. And nobody would ever know that it’s your boss giving you such good dick.

Your coherent thoughts are pushed to the back when Geto slaps his cock up against your asscheeks and then sinks himself back into your pussy. “Shit, baby!” he hisses, immediately going back to railing you. “You’re tighter than before.”

You whine in response as he grips your hips, pumping himself into you like you’re no more than a toy. A fleshlight. His personal sex object. It’s so dirty. So wrong.

And yet it feels so, so good. You can’t deny how much you enjoy his thick cock stretching you out and sending sparks of pleasure throughout your brain. How much you love the sweet ache in your knees and your body. How much you love the way he makes your tits and ass jiggle as he fucks you.

Speaking of ass, Geto is a fiend for it, staring at the way it shakes and jiggles as he fucks your pussy. “I need to see this ass bounce for me,” he shudderingly groans, giving your ass a harsh smack. You gasp at the sting, the nasty act of it making your pussy throb around him.

“Do that again!” you whine and he does, the pain mixing with the pleasure as he sinks his cock back into you again and again, going deeper and deeper each time. You have to brace yourself against the window the more he pounds into you, going so fast that he could damn well put a pornstar to shame with his stamina. “Fuck, Sugu, yes!” you sob. “Y-Yeah, just like that, fuck me just like that!”

“Fuck me back, babydoll,” he demands. “Work for that cum, c’mon. Be a good secretary for me.” You do so, pressing into your heels and tossing your ass back into him. “God, that’s it!” he moans, giving you another spank as a reward. “I’ve always dreamed of fucking you like this. Always wanted to see you like this.”

You want to tell him the same, but your tongue is tied, the pleasure making you crazy as you begin to frantically rub your clit. You can quickly feel that knot in your stomach about to snap the more he fucks you. You feel him press himself against you, pushing you into the window. You gasp as the cold glass touches your bare, brown tits pushed against the window while Geto’s big, rock-hard body pushes against your back.

“You wanna cum with me, babydoll?” he pants into your ear. “Tell me. Tell me you wanna cum with me.”

You can feel the wetness begin to drip down your thighs and stain his balls, no doubt getting on the floor. “Tell me you want me to give you my cum,” he growls. “Say it. Tell me where the fuck you want it.”

Somehow, you find the words to speak and scream out, “Yes! Yes, sir, I want your cum! Do it on me, please! I don’t care where! Just please, please cum with me!”

That just about makes Geto snap. He turns your face and tongue kisses you, his lips and mouth tasting like a night of champagne. You don’t speak as he continues to rail you, chasing his orgasm at full speed and taking you along for the ride.

When you both finally cum, you do so together. He manages to pull out of you quickly and pumps his cum all over your plump, soft, perfect ass while you do so onto his hand, his fingers replacing yours.

Swears, sobs, and moans leave your lips as you’re finally released like a genie in a bottle, your orgasm hitting you dead on. It drains all of the energy out of you, making your knees buckle and your body feel weak.

“I’ve got you,” Geto softly says, hugging you to him from the back. “Just melt into me, mama. It’s okay.”

Deliriously and happily, you smile, doing as he says. You loop an arm around his head, bringing him closer to you. You don’t ever want to leave his arms. You want to stay like this forever, pressed against him in his office, while the rest of the world turns and moves outside. At some point, you both sink onto the floor and just stay there for a while, silence descending onto you.

Once the pleasurable fog of your orgasm fades, the concrete realization hits you like a truck: you just had sex with your boss. Geto seems to know what you’re thinking though and turns your face towards his. “Tell me how you feel,” he tells you, his eyes firm but soft. “Listen, I don’t want you to regret what we did, Y/N, ‘cause I don’t. This was real for me.”

He bites on his bottom lip, looking flushed and nervous. You’ve never seen him look like that before. “I know this was a lot, but if you want, I’d like to turn this into something more. But it’s all up to you.” You blink at him, wondering if he’s serious. He continues to hold that firm yet nervous look, his eyes hopeful.

After sex like that, you’d be crazy to say no! You place a hand on his cheek and move in to kiss him softly. He accepts the kiss, his lips dancing with yours before you pull away. “I’m ready to try if you are, sir,” you softly answer. “But dinner would be nice.”

Geto begins to laugh and kisses your hand. “Of course,” he chuckles, sounding relieved. “You like Italian? Or maybe ramen? I know this place that just opened that–”

Knock, knock, knock! Quickly, Geto places himself in front of you, blocking you from whoever is at his office door. Fear jumps inside of you, making your stomach churn. “I thought you said nobody was here!” you hiss.

“There isn’t,” he whispers. “Or there wasn’t supposed to be.” He clears his throat, giving a clear, short, “Yes?”

“Brooo, it’s me!” Gojo shouts through the door. “I think I dropped my wallet in here! Can ya let me in?” Geto turns to you, a mischievous glint in his eye. “What do you think, babydoll?” he asks. “Should we let my friend in?”

You don’t know why you say yes or why your pussy throbs despite having just orgasmed twice, but Geto gives Gojo the okay and he comes waltzing into the office. At the sight of his best friend and his personal secretary sitting naked on the floor in their afterglow, Gojo’s blue eyes widen in shock…

And then they grow hooded with lust. “Well, well,” he chuckles. “It’s about fuckin’ time.”

He begins to loosen his tie, giving you a flirty smile. “I hope it ain’t too much to ask if I can join, babe.”

THE END.

Fan Art by @almaadst

#commission fill #black fanfic writer #smutty smut #my works #black coded reader #my fic shit #black writers #jjk smut #geto smut #suguru geto x reader #geto suguru #suguru aka sugar #suguru geto x plus sized!reader #boss/employee relationship #office romance

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susiephone · 7 months

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Or, a crash course in checking your sources. Because we've all seen some absolutely bullshit stuff spread around the internet, and Tumblr definitely isn't immune to it.

It can be hard to sort out the fact from the rumor from the propaganda when a story is actively developing, especially one that is fast-moving and has a lot of voices coming in from all sides, but it is vitally important that you check your sources before spreading a claim.

It's easier to verify or disprove a claim about something that's purported to have happened in the past, so, admittedly, checking stuff that's purported to be happening now is a messy, confusing process. All the more reason to err on the side of caution.

I am not a journalist or professional researcher or historian or anything like that, so this is all coming from a layman who does their best to be informed. If I get anything wrong, or anyone more qualified has something they want to add, please let me know in the notes.

Why should I check my sources?

Because you should care whether you're spreading propaganda or not.

Because sometimes in the heat of the moment, when emotions are running high, it's easy to be misled.

Because every time you spread misinformation to help your own cause, even - or especially! - if that cause is righteous, it becomes a ding on your credibility, and the credibility of your cause.

Because when you don't, a journalist loses their wings. Probably. Fact-check me on that.

How do I know when to check my sources?

If you don't recognize the source, check it.

If you hear a claim and think, "Wow, that is so cartoonishly evil," or, "That's so absurd I'd think it was far fetched if it was in a movie," or, "It's weird no mainstream outlets are reporting on this," check it.

Now, a claim sounding too bizarre or evil to be real doesn't always mean it isn't--I mean, half of what I hear about George Santos sounds like an SNL sketch and it always ends up true. But check it.

If the claim sounds like something a Nazi would want you to believe, check it.

If a claim is only being spread by one or two small sources, check it.

How do I check my sources?

The following sites are great resources for fact-checking.

PolitiFact. Ranks claims on a truth-o-meter and provides context for what's true, mostly true, kinda true, and made-up.

Media Bias/Fact Check: Publishes lists of fact checks from other credible sources, and ranks media outlets on their bias and trustworthiness.

Climate Feedback: Verifies claims about science, especially climate change.

Lead Stories: Verifies claims as they develop, especially stuff spreading on social media.

Here is a list of sources Media Bias/Fact Check considers to be the least biased.

What are some red flags to search for? / What are some questions I should ask myself?

Does the claim only come from a handful of small sources?

Do all those sources only cite each other?

It bears repeating: does this claim sound especially sensational or over-the-top? I know it sounds basic, but when you're furious at somebody (be it a person or a government or a system), it can be easy to believe every horrible thing you hear about them. But just because someone is awful doesn't mean every rumor about them doing awful things is true, and you still have a responsibility to keep your criticism accurate.

Who provides funding to the source? Do they work off of grants, reader donations and subscriptions, government backing, private donors? Do they not disclose their funding at all?

Has the source been caught spreading false info before? How long ago was this? Did they issue a correction in a timely manner? Was the journalist who spread the false claim fired or otherwise reprimanded? Does it seem like it was a mistake, or was there an agenda at play? Has the source taken steps to reestablish credibility?

Who benefits from me believing this?

Okay, I did all my fact-checking, and I'm really not sure if this claim is true or not.

Then don't share it.

If more information comes out and it turns out to be true, then go ahead.

But if there's doubt, don't share it.

Okay, sure, but the claim sounds like it could be true, and-

"Could be true" and "is true" are not the same.

Fine, but the person or government it's talking about has already done so many awful things, even if this specific rumor isn't true-

DON'T. SHARE. IT.

I am going to come to your house and bite you.

Further information.

How to fact-check like a pro.

The Psychology of Fact-Checking.

What is fact-checking?

Misinformation (YouTube video)

And there we go! If anyone has anything to add, go ahead, but I will be monitoring the comments and will be blocking any nonsense.

There's enough misinformation spread by bad actors in our current media landscape. Please don't make their job any easier.

#politics #journalism

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nouies · 5 months

Text

hello and welcome to the last fic rec of the year featuring my favourite works from what i’ve read during the past weeks. as always, please check tags before reading. if you liked the fics please reblog their posts, leave kudos and write a nice comment. happy reading! rec tag | more rec lists

— harry/louis —

໑ A Christmas at Home by @parmahamlarrie (T, 3k, established relationship, nurse louis, kid fic, christmas fluff) After meeting his boyfriend in the emergency room, not having Louis home for Christmas Eve (and his birthday) was not a big surprise to Harry. What he didn't expect was just how hard that would be on his six year old son, Arlo.

Or, the one where Arlo wants nothing more than to celebrate Louis' birthday with him, and Harry hates having to be the parent who says no.

໑ Could Be Kissing my Fruit Punch Lips by thecheshirepussycat / @the-cheshire-pussy-cat (E, 4.5k, strangers to lovers, college au, camboy louis, pining harry) Harry happens upon a porn site that specializes in live videos and sort of falls in love with the cute boy he only knows as Kitty.

And then he gets the surprise of his life when he finds out Kitty attends his university…

໑ Your name is tattooed to the bottom of my heart by @meloummy (E, 6.6k, canon au, established relationship, ass tattoo, light dom/sub) Prompt 114: a PWP where Louis gets an arse tattoo with Harry’s name for his birthday.

Or where Harry likes to mark what is his and receives a very special surprise fulfilling one of his fetishes; to see Louis marked for life with something related to him and in one of his favourite places.

໑ with gilded wolves on the wall by bruisedhoney / @yvesaintlourent (E, 13.3k, enemies to lovers, a/b/o game of thrones au, arranged marriage, fantasy) The Game of Thrones ABO AU where Harry is of the North, and Louis cannot be burnt.

໑ Wedding Bells Will Never Ring For Me by @lousmoonshine (E, 14.8k, exes to lovers, champagne problems au, famous louis, non-famous harry) After a failed proposal a few years back, Louis gets an unexpected invitation to his ex - Harry’s – wedding.

໑ play by the rules by @shimmeringevil (E, 21.8k, established relationship, bdsm, soft dom harry, read tags) Fed up with the excess energy that’s wreaking havoc on his personal and professional life, Louis asks his boyfriend to dom him in the hopes that it’ll help him relax. Unfortunately, Harry is a bit of a disaster when it comes to being a dom. So, Louis decides to get creative to try and encourage the dominant side out of him.

໑ tell me that your sweet love hasn't died by punk_pillow_princess / @punkpillowprincess (M, 27.4k, established relationship, happiest season au, movie inspired, hidden relationship, coming out, christmas) Louis and Harry have been in a relationship for a year. While on their way to Harry's parents' house and his family's legendary annual Christmas party, Louis discovers that Harry has not yet come out of the closet to his family, who are also full of secrets, fears and afraid of a bad reputation in town.

໑ Snow In Love by @lululawrence (NR, 33k, friends to lovers, advent fic, fake/pretend relationship) Harry and Louis are best friends and have been for basically as long as they can remember. For the first time since middle school, they are both single for the holidays leaving them with the brilliant idea to take each other as their dates to work events. To make things easier they will pretend like they’re dating. But then they learn something funny.

People thought they were already dating. Weird.

໑ Heart Beat by @allwaswell16 (E, 33.4k, acquaintances to lovers, advent fic, small town au, teacher harry, single parent louis, kid fic) Hideaway Haven is the place that Louis has always called home. It's also the place that Harry had tried to leave behind him. When Harry returns to start a music academy in his hometown, he finds himself face to face with his high school crush—and his charming daughter who wants to learn to play the drums.

— rare pairs / categories —

໑ Chaos by @haztobegood (louis/omc, M, 100, canon, fitf tour, bodyguard) Against the barricade, it’s complete chaos.

໑ Fine Line by LadyAJ_13 / @ladyaj-13 (louis/nick grimshaw, G, 1k, established relationship, canon compliant, relationship reveal) Telling his family was always going to be a big deal, but doing it alone was a sacrifice he could make. He never thought they’d fall about laughing.

໑ Daydream by @allwaswell16 (girl direction louis/zayn, T, 2k, strangers, coffee shop au, university student louis, farmer zayn) Every Thursday, Louis nods hello to her fellow regulars at Horan’s Cafe, one of whom is the woman of her dreams.

໑ Baking Memories by @haztobegood (louis/jack cochrane, T, 2k, canon compliant, kitchen chaos, christmas baking) After a long day of songwriting, Jack convinces Louis to bake mince pies together.

໑ say yes to heaven by edensrose / @holdingthornsandroses (louis/ethan hawke, M, 2.8k, strangers to lovers, 90s theatre au, references to shakespeare) Later when he’s back at the apartment with Oli, as Louis is somewhat dreamily waxing poetic about Ethan, Oli interrupts.-

“Does he quote Shakespeare when you fuck?” he asks, poking at the sizzling eggs on the stove.

Louis’ cheeks turn suspiciously pink.

Oli peers at his face. “Oh my god, he DOES. I KNEW IT.” He triumphantly brandishes his spatula in the air.

໑ Two Stars Passing By by Stria (Asia117) / @nooradeservedbetter (niall/lewis capaldi, G, 2.9k, established relationship, a/b/o au, domestic fluff) “I’ll have you know, I’m perfectly comfortable not looking and acting like a traditional alpha.” He needs Lewis to know that, for some reason.“Sure, mr feminism,” Lewis snorts. “Come on, we’re missing the game.”

(Or, fluffy slice-of-life moments in Niall and Lewis' relationship) ໑ One by @allwaswell16 (louis/tommy shelby, E, 4k, one night stands, pack a/b/o au, peaky blinders au, historical, pregnancy) When omega Louis Tomlinson becomes pregnant after an unexpected encounter, he decides his only option is to flee his pack. But Tommy Shelby, pack alpha of the Peaky Blinders, might not be willing to let him go so easily.

໑ it's a holidate by @disgruntledkittenface (harry/nick grimshaw, M, 4.3k, strangers to lovers, american au, company holiday party) When Nick meets Harry at his company holiday party, he never would have predicted that he’d met his match. Luckily, he’s been known to be wrong on occasion.

໑ a silent night with you by edensrose / @holdingthornsandroses (louis/lee pace, M, 7.8k, strangers to lovers, christmas au, writer louis, fake relationship louis/omc) Louis Lane. Popular British columnist and cook extraordinaire. He has a fiancé and and a sixty acre farm. Except Louis Tomlinson has none of these things. Guess who’s coming to dinner.

໑ Jump! by @reminiscingtherain (louis/tommy longhurst, M, 15.8k, strangers to lovers, canon, touring life) He let out a noise of surprise as his arms were suddenly full of a sweaty body, as Tommy threw himself at Louis and held on tightly.“Thank you so fucking much,” he muttered against Louis’ shoulder, squeezing a little. “You have no idea how much this means to us.”Louis softened a little, gently tapping Tommy’s back.“I absolutely know what this means, lad,” he replied, his voice gentle and supportive. “The way you’re reacting to being out there? That’s exactly why I chose you for the support slot.” He gave a reassuring squeeze. “You deserve this, okay?” He pulled back a little, gripping the back of Tommy’s neck and looking him in the eyes. “You deserve this.”

໑ 'tis the damn season by YesIsAWorld / @louandhazaf (girl direction hl, E, 17.9k, friends to lovers, advent fic, returning home) Harry returns to her small hometown over the holiday season and starts to think about the road not taken.

#28th appreciation #1dficvillage #1dsource #hlcreators #hljournal #trackinghome #ficsfor4am #*#*rec

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mmoonwrites · 2 months

Text

↷ bathroom stall

featuring : hughie campbell

AUTHOR'S NOTE : i noticed there is a severe lack of hughie content on this site... had to fix (this now has a PART TWO !)

word count : 1.2k contents : afab!reader, smut (minors DNI), oral (m receiving), p in v, unprotected sex, dirty talking, hughie calls reader "baby" a lot, dubcon, alcohol/drinking, one night stands, dirty bar bathroom sex, definitely not proofread

after more than enough inside of your favorite little dive bar, you’d found yourself wrapped up in a pretty stranger’s arms and your hands in his hair: you wouldn’t normally consider going home with somebody you just met, but it’d been a long week and you needed this. the static from the radio playing in the corner granted you the passage to forgetting yourself and tuning into the warm buzz as much as possible outside of your apartment.

tonight, you weren’t you, or maybe you were more you than you’d ever been–who knows the difference anymore? all you knew was that nobody in your life would expect you to be out drinking in the middle of the week like this so late and all alone, and the freedom was incredible.

you let out a long exhale into his ear and slid your hands to hang loosely off of his person as you began to speak. “let’s go somewhere we can be alone,” your voice was just loud enough above the music and people that you knew he’d hear it. the two of you’d been clashing teeth and tongue for a while, and you knew he was facing the same urges you were from the stiff feeling pressing against your hip.

“f-fuck, are you-” he practically trembled under your touch, “are you sure? i-i mean, i don’t even know your name yet and-”

“i’m more sure right now than i’ve ever been.”

it only took you a minute or two to make your way into the bar’s bathroom with him; the music now distant and foggy to you as the man guided you into the first stall while you kept kissing and biting his bottom lip. your hands had already made their way to undoing his buckle by the time he managed to lock the door. expletives leaked from his mouth as yours left kisses down his neck–as soon as your hand got him out of his pants, you took no time to tease him through his underwear and reached in to touch him properly.

“god, fuck.” he hissed as he pressed his back into the stall door. a gulp left his lips before he spoke again, this time more nervously. “h-hughie- i’m hughie.”

you smiled at how sensitive he already was. “you ready to have my mouth on this big cock of yours, hughie?”

his mouth morphed into a small O shape as his brows furrowed and he nodded. “god, yeah.”

your hand held him in place as you licked the first long stripe along the bottom of his shaft and heard his head roll back against the door with a small thud and a groan. you could already see just how impatient he’d gotten from the littlest bit of touch from you–after a small kiss to his tip, you finally took him fully into the heat of your mouth. you bobbed lightly as hughie spilled praises above you and placed his palm to the side of your head. “fuuuuck, i can’t last like this- your f-fuckin’ mouth.. ‘s too much.” hughie gasped as his dick was met with the cold air of the room as you removed your mouth with a wet pop sound.

“then fuck me already.” you spat, licking your lips of the taste. he didn’t waste a second in pulling you up by your arms to kiss him again, his hands finding their way to your ass and squeezing as he drunkenly grinded against your figure. a line of saliva stretched between you as you turned your back to him and placed your hands on the wall.

a selfless moan left your lips as he began rutting against your clothed ass–the friction was far too much even for you now. hughie’s hands quickly made their way into the band of your pants and pulled them down in a quick motion. his wrist slid between your thighs and rubbed the very apparent wet spot now formed in your panties. “so fuckin’ wet already.” he spoke quietly as he played with the little coil forming in your tummy.

“hughie,” you desperately took one of your hands off the wall and intervened in his handiwork to slide your underwear over. “c’mere.”

“fuck, baby. o-okay.” hughie couldn’t’ve grabbed himself quicker into his own hand–he gave himself a few weak jerks before lining himself with your hole. the feeling of your warmth surrounding him was overwhelming. the two of you moaned in tandem as he slid in until he bottomed out.

“you- you feel so fucking good.” you spoke slowly, carefully, as the feeling of him stretching you clouded your mind.

“can i move?” he asked, his voice rasped and echoed in the room as you answered with a weak nod, too foggy to speak properly.

as soon as hughie saw that you were good to go he gave one or two slow testing thrusts in and out of your pussy, groaning as he pushed himself back into your wet heat one more time before really losing control: it was like a wire snapped as his hips suddenly smacked against your own much faster than before. the feeling forced a rather loud yelp out of your throat, and hughie quickly took that as an opportunity to wrap an arm around you and clamp his palm over your open mouth.

he leaned in closer and you could feel his breath against the shell of your ear as he whispered. “be quiet for me, pretty girl.” he kept his other hand on your hip to keep you properly positioned on his cock. “i know, i know- it’s so much, baby. i know.”

you could feel your eyes roll back at the tone change, the mix of his voice with the weight of him heavier on you was enough to send you over the edge.

no matter how much you whined into his palm, hughie continued snapping his hips into yours at a fast pace–you were close and judging by the way he began to sigh against you, you could tell he was too.

“‘m gonna fill this dirty fuckin’ pussy, okay baby? you want that? you wanna feel me spill out inside of you?”

you moaned far too loud for even his palm to fully conceal the sound as you nodded, your legs shaking as you felt the coil inside of you begin to slowly drive you mad.

“g-good baby. fuck- oh, fuck- i’m gonna- i’m-” hughie couldn't finish his thought before his legs shook and he filled you completely with his cum. and with a few more hard thrusts, you were quick to follow.

you both stayed in the position for a few minutes just taking each other in and panting while the music from outside of the bathroom became more noticeable again. once he eventually pulled out, he groaned as he watched his seed dripped onto the tile floor beneath you.

hughie helped you stand back up and rubbed the small of your back as the two of you shared another long kiss before breaking to pull your clothes back up.

“if you ever find yourself back here, look for me.” you mumbled against his chin, words weak.

he placed another wet kiss to your forehead as you melted into his arms for just one more moment. “i’ll be back.”

#★mmoonwrites #★ nighttime reading list #nsft #hughie campbell #hughie x reader #hughie the boys #hughie smut #hughie x you #hughie x afab reader #the boys smut #the boys x reader #the boys tv x reader #the boys #the boys tv #hughie campbell x reader #the boys amazon #x reader #afab reader

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mirlvshft · 3 months

Text

s/o guided meditation! .𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚

hey guysss!! o( ˶^▾^˶ )o it’s been a while! i haven’t actually posted since valentines so it feels like forever. i am back with an update on this genius thought i had a while ago ᕙ(‾̀◡‾́)ᕗ i finally got around making it! and man.. when i tell you guys, it took for fucking ever… but i love it!! it turned out perfect!!

in addition to sharing a small audio clip, i’m also going to give a rundown of the process in case you guys want to try or even just play around with elevenlabs.

i made the guided meditation very much catered to myself, of course. among the usual of these meditations, i have him (my s/o) describe my wr and what not— plus personal bits. i mixed the guided meditation with the ‘already there’ method (in a way) so it helps with the overall visualization as well. i also have a subliminal in the bg that i absolutely loveee. it’s perfect since there’s rain over the affirmations. (wr introduction coming soon!! perhaps)

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆audio⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆rundown of the process⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

ᯓ★ to start off, i typed up what i wanted to be said in the guided meditation in my notes app.

ᯓ★ elevenlabs! i sample clips from a few different scenes in the show where he has just the perfect tone of voice i want. i remove the bg noise through a site and bring that over to elevenlabs— i create the voice in voicelab and boom, i have his voice ready to go. (to create voices, you have to pay :/ first month $1, after that $5)

ᯓ★ i start adding in the text of what i have him say— a long part of the process because of experimentation. i have to be very careful with this process so i don’t waste my quota (30k characters) +pro tip, if you decide to mess with elevenlabs, please PLEASE don’t add so much text at once. you have to break it up into little bits, maybe like 4 or 5 lines, maybe 7? max. this is because while the voice sounds good at first, it will start to skew into a drastically different voice. in my case, it’s starts to speed up and the whole voice changes into a british man??? i’m not entirely sure if that’s for everyone but definitely just be aware and mess around to see so you don’t waste your quota so fast (30k really isn’t a lot).

ᯓ★ i break up the text and generate multiple samples, i keep the ones i like and i continue until i am done. i’m then left with multiple samples to download.

ᯓ★ next utilize some kind of program to pull this all together. my hp laptop has its own program (microsoft clipchamp) that pulled up automatically and it was perfect. upload all of your samples as well as anything additional you might want to add.

ᯓ★ edit everything how you like. chop the clips up, space them out, etc etc,. after you’re done, export it and there you go!! from here you can upload to wherever you want. what i did is upload it to spotify through local files, i then downloaded it so i can play it on my phone and that’s it!!

this process for me was very long especially since i made mistakes. however, i loveee how it turned out. i definitely recommend doing this if you want, i think it’s a cute little project to do. i found it motivational and just fun ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )✧

please let me know if you guys have any questions if you’re going to try this out or just mess with elevenlabs!! dm’s always open if anything!! ( ˶ˆ꒳ˆ˵ )

#shiftblr #shifting community #desired reality #shifting blog #reality shifter #shifting motivation #shifting realities #reality shifting

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apollos-olives · 7 months

Note

Hi sorry Israeli Canadian anon from earlier. White gays are saying that Palestinians are homophobic??

(Admittedly, i am a white gay. I say that in the sense of "didn't realize ppl were doing this" and not in a distancing way to exempt myself from the shitty things us white gays do. I'm not perfect.)

Okay, putting aside how bullshit it is to label an entire ethnic group as being homophobic - do ppl think that Israel *isn't* homophobic?? Or transphobic for that matter? I actually happen to be trans and when I was changing my name and gender marker on my legal documents, I learned that I can't change my Israeli birth certificate bc to do so requires bottom surgery. Which I personally don't want or plan to get. To put that into perspective, canada (with all its bullshit facade of being such an ~accepting~ place) doesn't require that. Requiring bottom surgery to change gender marker is so fucking antiquated and transphobic.

Also, to be honest, even though I was born in Israel, I'm not super educated on all of the history. Part of that being because for so long I saw the discussion surrounding it being portrayed as oh so complicated. And then I realized that it really isn't. At its very core what it boils down to is: do you support genocide? If your answer is yes, then you support Israel. If your answer is no, then you support Palestine.

(Very much want to learn more about Palestinian history and Israeli occupation/apartheid. Do you have recommendations for articles/documentaries/etc on it?)

hi anon. and yeah. white gays, especially libs, constantly use the belief that all palestinians are homophobic (which also leads to islamophobic sentiments) and that people should not support palestine because of that. unfortunately that is a very overly used belief in arguments, especially in north america. the belief that palestine is homophobic and that israel is very open and supportive is due to pinkwashing, which can be explained very thoroughly on the website decolonizepalestine. this website also has TONS of information all about palestine, the occupation, and the various forms of questions people often ask, while also debunking a lot of myths and falsehoods that are produced from israeli propaganda. very good site to scroll through, and i'm sure many of your questions will be answered just by taking a read through it.

i'm not going to waste time and repeat what thousands of others have already said about pinkwashing, but i do want to mention that pinkwashing does play a huge role in the dehumanization of palestinians and also plays a role in how western propaganda continues to split oppressed minorities constantly, making them against each other rather than uplifting each other.

the belief that all palestinians are homophobic is. honestly. well. it's islamophobic. i'm queer, trans, muslim, and palestinian. i exist. queer palestinians exist everywhere. western and zionist propaganda makes people think that all palestinians are muslim, and therefore against queer people. this is simply not true, since palestinians are very VERY diverse. palestinians are christian, jewish, muslim, atheist, and whatever else as well. it's not a religious thing, it's an ethnic and racial thing. palestine simply has not had the time to unlearn homophobia or had the time to try to advocate for queer and women's rights because we are too busy trying not to die. we don't have time to fight for queer liberation because we're too busy fighting for our HUMAN liberation. we are trying to exist first, then we can worry about the discrimination against queers.

israel also claims to be a safe space for queers, but it is literally the opposite. it's just as discriminatory as other countries, and hurts queer jews, as well as blackmails queer palestinians into submission. like you said, israel does have transphobic regulations, like the whole "need bottom surgery in order to legally get a sex change" and other things like that.

i've been recommending this masterlist of palestinian resources for everyone, but please look through this if you want to learn more about the occupation in palestine. the website i mentioned earlier is very helpful as well.

inshallah we will see a free palestine in our lifetimes.

#palestine #free palestine

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starrysimps · 1 year

Note

Could you do a Childe one for the Pregnant reader like Venti’s?

Maybe One Day We’ll Be A Big Happy Family [Childe x (f)PregnantReader]

A/N: I’m so glad I got this as a request, I planned on writing more of those but I was stuck at which characters I should write for. This Fanfic has a little bit of angst at the beginning and then comfort at the end. Also I changed a little bit from how I made the last one, I made the child to where you can choose the gender. I hope you enjoy reading it!

Let me know what you guys think.

C/n: Child's name

Pairing: [Childe x (f)PregnantReader]

Word Count: 1.1k

"Maybe we should break up if you're so worked up about it!" You yelled, trying to hold back your tears that were threatening to spill. "Fine then! Maybe we should!" He yelled, anger clearly shone through his tone of voice . You couldn't do it anymore. You ran out of your shared home and let the tears spill over as they pleased. You went to go stay with your best friend [favorite character].

The days after that were mostly lonely. [Favorite Character] was trying so hard to comfort you and make you feel better, but nothing seemed to be working. You took on more commissions and did other things to do to keep your mind off of things for a while. It made you want to cry every time you thought about it.

For the last two years Childe had been the best thing that ever happened to you. But now it was all gone. It would be a lie if you said you didn't love him, but it would be foolish of you to go back to him. After all, you were the one that suggested that you two break up. Childe meant so much to you, but you couldn't bring yourself to go back to him.

A few days later, you found out some interesting news. It meant that you would have to quit your job as an adventurer. You decided that it would be best to move away from Liyue.

You were pregnant.

You were unsure of how to feel at first. You were going to have a baby that was going to be Childe's. Soon enough, you got used to it. I mean there was really no going back now. You moved in with [Random Character that doesn't live in Liyue]. They offered to help you for the time being. You were going to raise the baby there.

It was long, hard, and unbearable at times but your child was still your pride and joy.

[TIME SKIP]

One day, you decided to take your now 3 year old (son/daughter) to visit Liyue. They had reminded you so much of Childe, they looked as if you made a clone of him but a smaller one. You wanted to show them the beautiful sites from when you once had lived there.

You decided to go to a small spot near the Harbor. They had a place for the children to play on a ship. You had taken a seat to watch (him/her) play with the other kids that were there.

That's when you spotted a familiar face in the distance. It was Childe.

You hoped that he wouldn't see you. You were going to get c/n and leave, but before you could, Childe had already you. "Y/n? Is that you?" He asked. You sighed, and sat back down on the bench that you were seated on before. You were smiling as you watched c/n] play, which Childe noticed. "Y/n?" Childe asked again, bringing you back into reality. "O-oh hey." You said.

"I didn't think I'd ever see you again." He said. "How is your family?" He asked. "I'm not sure, I haven't been by to visit them in a while." You replied. Childe looked confused. Then you realized what he had meant. "O-Oh no, I'm not with anyone it's just me and C/n." You replied. Childe found it strange, but didn't push it any further. C/n then came running to you. " Mommy! I think I saw a whale! You said daddy liked whales! I want to be just like daddy!" C/n excitedly told you. "That's amazing." You told c/n. "Can we bring daddy here one day when he comes home?" C/n asked you. "That would be a great idea sweetheart." You say. C/n runs back to go play with some of the friends they made. "How old is C/n?" Childe asked out of curiosity. “(He/She) is three years old."

Childe's eyes widen as he realizes something. The two of you were together at the time. He liked whales, and so did c/n's dad. He started to piece the puzzle together. It would explain why c/n looked so much like him. He looked at you as you sighed. "I'm guessing you've already figured it out by now, am I right?" You asked. "A-am I...? Childe started. "You're c/n's dad." You said. "Really?" Childe asked. "I didn't think you would want to see me much after what happened so I didn't tell you and I just left..." You said. "Y/n I did. I wanted to say that I'm sorry. I'm sorry for ending things. It was a stupid fight. I can't even remember what we were fighting about, it was so stupid. I was looking everywhere for you once you left. By the time I figured out that you had left Liyue, I figured that you didn't want anyone to look for you. That's when I stopped looking for you, but not a day went by without me thinking about you and how much I missed you. If you would have told me about c/n, I would have loved to help raise (him/her) even if we weren't together." He said. "I- I don't know what to say... Really though, I should be the one apologizing. I said we should end things." You said.

"Well Y/n, I really missed you." He said. "I missed you too Childe." You replied. Childe looked at you. "Can I tell (him/her)?" He asked. "Give me one second." You said as you got up and walked over to c/n. You whispered something in their ear, and soon a big smile appeared on their face. They went running towards Childe. "DADDY!" They yelled, running to Childe with their hands out to give him a big hug. C/n jumped into his arms. Childe was surprised to be accepted that quickly, but the child was just three years old so it was reasonable. You smiled at the two.

You felt as if a huge weight had been lifted off of you.

"Y/n?" Childe asked. "Hm?" You replied. "I was thinking, we ended things off stupid. Do you think you could give me another chance to start things over?" He asked, looking a little nervous. "Hmm. I guess you're right. But it won't be that easy this time. We have a kid now." You replied. Childe smiled. "We have a kid together, and we'll be a happy family." Childe said with a smile. You smiled at his words and you hugged him with c/n in between the two of you.

Maybe one day you really would be a big happy family

#childe #tartaglia #ajax #tartagalia x reader #childe x reader #genshin x fem!reader smau #genshin impact #genshin Impact x reader #y/n #Reader inserts #x reader #Angst #pregnant #liyue #teyvat #Starrysimps #Starry simps

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mamaz00m · 5 days

Text

It's been ten literal years.

It's about time I finish what I started.

I've been gone so long that I don't even know what Boosh fandom is like anymore. I don't know how active it is, I don't know who all is still hanging around. Really I can only hope that by posting this to AO3, anyone who is subscribed to me will see this update and be happy that the story is finally complete.

This story's incomplete status has haunted me for years. I met my best friend through Boosh fandom in the LiveJournal days (RIP--I have fully lost my login for that site) and since I moved in with her in June of 2019, she has stayed on top of my ass about finally completing this fic.

As you'll all know, I wrote and posted two chapters in 2019 (as well as two one-shots for this universe) with the harassment of my bestie and cheerleading from @cle-o-pat-ra, whom I own an apology to for falling off the face of the planet once the pandemic hit.

I had a real All Eyes On Me moment in 2020. Without getting too much into it, after years of dealing with mental health issues which led to me becoming a shut-in, I moved across country to be with my best friend. I started going out, I started making friends. I started finally living. And then Covid happened and I went off the rails a bit. Quite a bit.

It took some work, but I am doing a lot better now.

So what prompted this return?

Ironically, it was watching GBBO with Bestie over dinner each night. We subscribed to Netflix just to watch it this year. It was seeing Noel--smiley, cheeky, and only just now finally beginning to show any signs of aging--that made my heart clinch.

I found myself wondering what Gabe would be up to at Noel's current age. How Eli is doing.

I realized I missed these characters desperately.

I can only hope you did, too.

Because I have tentative plans for the future...

I'm going to tag the folks I can remember enjoying this fic back when I was more active in the fandom. And I'll be around, in case me showing up like this stirs up any big feelings.

Thank you all for showing so much patience towards me. For loving these characters and playing in this space with me for ten long years. I've missed this world and I've missed you.

@culumacilinte @arbeaone @azurfemme @littleredchucks @radiumkind @oblong-goblin @the-stoned-ranger @pussywhang @concupiscence66

And of course, giant, massive thanks to @derangedficrecs / @derangedbutterfly for being this fic's beta for over half the chapters before my life got so hectic and...well, I owe you an apology too. I'm sorry.

Raise Hell. Chapter 21: THE WORLD

#gabeli #raise hell #mighty boosh #the mighty boosh #noel fielding #julian barratt #dave brown #mint royale #mike fielding #rich fulcher #booshlr #noelian

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mllechartreux · 2 years

Text

Catches you Reading Smut

Summary: Reading the nasty around them.

Content: Suggestive themes, very meta. Eren, Armin, Mikasa, Levi.

W/C: 1.5k

A/N: This was fun and cute to make, please enjoy!

Masterlist

Eren

Eren was sitting on the floor playing video games, his head resting between your legs on the couch. He had been playing Halo for the past hour while you scrolled through various social media sites before settling on reading fanfiction. Now while you weren’t specifically looking for smut, it was always a welcome bonus. In this one, the main character went home with the tattooist, and to top it all off, the tattooist was the tsundere type. Can you hear her purring? You squeezed your lips together to keep from squealing and smiling too hard, no other story could have scratched this itch better. You were scanning the screen, so engrossed in the hot, rough foreplay the characters were having you didn’t notice your thighs rubbing together. Well, it was assumed they were rubbing together.

“The hell, Y/N?” he was in the middle of a campaign and couldn’t look at you, but it didn’t matter, you barely acknowledged him.

“Right babe,” completely unaware your thighs were rubbing against his cheeks while your core sat like a furnace on the back of his neck. Your characters were finally getting to the pentrative sex part when you started reading the lines on your hands. This would’ve been cool if you knew palmistry, and if you weren’t reading dirty, filthy smut just a second ago. Your entire body except your head froze as you looked up to see Eren had paused the game and was reading the fanfiction under his breath.

“So what I’m getting from this is you’re so horny you have to read porn now too,”

“First of all, why are you snatching phones?” hoping your deflection would take, he chuckled darkly, it definitely didn’t take.

“No, no, no baby that's not what we’re talking about,” green eyes hungry with lust as they stared at your poorly concealed nervousness, “matter of fact, you got more of these?” he asked, waving your phone in the air.

“Yes,” you drawled, your breath getting shorter.

“Well, since you treated my head like a watermelon why don’t you read more of these to me, it’s the least you can do for giving me a headache.” You couldn’t decide whether to groan at how dramatic he was or agree obediently with where this was headed.

Mikasa

The two of you decided to do a cross country train ride. It was two weeks long, there were multiple stops and for some you even stayed in the city for a day, hotel included. The scenery was beautiful, the ambience calming, and the two of you were in bliss to be in each others’ company for such an extended amount of time. Currently, both of you were in the train sitting next to each other, and while she was occupied with painting Youtube videos, you were finishing a slow burn fanfic you’ve been savoring for the past 3 days. 26 chapters of ‘enemies to lovers’ goodness, filled with comedy, humiliation, and the teeniest bit of angst, and of course you can’t end an ‘enemies to lovers’ fic without smut. Your headphones were in, playing a playlist you had created the day you started reading this fic. So, the background music coupled with the heavily descriptive, sultry sex scene immersed you into its world, placing you as the main character. Next to you, your girlfriend was humming appreciatively at the different techniques and especially the cartoon inspired paintings. In one video, someone had drawn an impressively vivid portrait of the Steven Universe cast. Her mouth formed an ‘O’ as she watched the time-lapsed video, sweetly inspired to produce something similar.

“Love, do you think I could make this,” voice sweet and hopeful, yet still projecting down into her lap where she watched her phone. You didn’t hear her with your mind in the gutter and the bass booming in your ears from the slow, sensual song. When you didn’t answer she glanced over, noticing your eyes were slightly widened and the hand not on your phone was lifted to your face with your pinky nail in your mouth. Seeing you so concentrated piqued her curiosity, leaning into your side, her eyes drifted down to read what had you in such a daze. Your side warmed up and the hairs on the back of your neck tingled causing you to dart your eyes up to her face, looking like a deer in headlights. She continued to read for a moment before meeting your gaze and bringing a hand to your cheek, “I wish you would’ve told me earlier, we should share recs.”

Your face softened and a glint in your eye accompanied the sly smile peaking through.

Armin

You joined Armin in his dorm room claiming his presence would help you focus better on ‘studying’. He was sitting at his desk, turned away from you, looking down at his laptop. He was always so studious and attentive, sometimes too much, but he did hold you accountable when you really wanted to get something done. However, you were really there to focus on writing a smutty fic for a new character you were obsessed with. You probably should’ve been working on homework but you gotta get it while the inspiration is flowing and the motivation is motivating. It was a childhood friends to lovers fic with A/B/O dynamics. You didn’t write A/B/O often but when your breeding kink got the better of you, it was the only thing you could write. You were already 4k words in when it was supposed to be only 2k but you were flowing. You even caught yourself laughing at some parts, “Ooo now that’s good.”

“What’s good babe?” he asked absentmindedly.

“Just how easy it is to work with you around,” smiling at him, it wasn’t really a lie.

Armin had picked up on every time you made a comment, or flinched so hard you made a noise, or even the few times you squeaked. At first he didn’t put much thought into it, but he got suspicious when he figured you couldn’t be reacting this way towards a class you would've never given attention to if you weren’t here. He took a few peeks over at you lying on your stomach on his bed, finding it cute when your legs wiggled in the air. He didn’t really have a plan to find out what you were doing but it all worked out for him when you excused yourself to go to the bathroom. When you came back and saw him sitting on the bed with one hand on your laptop and the other resting on his bulge, you stilled. Without looking up, “I didn’t know you were so filthy starfish.”

Wrapping your arms around yourself you replied, “It tends to come out when I’m feeling… needy, do you like it?”

“I think you’re a genius, when you finish with it I’ll help you take care of your needs.”

Levi

Levi had noticed for the past couple of days you weren’t getting as much sleep, and he didn’t know why. You were starting to move slower, your dark circles and eyebags could be seen from a mile away and worst of all you were making simple mistakes. It was after 9pm when Levi found you in the kitchen, sweeping with a mop. He was too stunned to say anything at first but quickly snatched the mop from your hands and replaced it with a broom, furrowing his eyebrows, “There can’t possibly be a sane reason for sweeping with a mop.”

You smiled at him sheepishly, eyes droopy, mouth opening to answer before closing and going back to sweeping.

“Y/N.”

“You said there wasn’t a sane reason,” you replied, still sweeping, unbeknownst to yourself you had been sweeping the same spot for the past 3 minutes.

He snatched the broom from you, “Go get some sleep, you’re looking and acting shitty.”

You looked at him softly, giving him a peck on the cheek, “Eye eye captain,” making your way to your shared bedroom.

These past couple of nights you couldn’t bring yourself to fall asleep until after 3am, you were currently engrossed in a story about a bodyguard pining after their charge. At first the bodyguard hated their charge but feelings started to develop between the two until they could no longer contain their love, and lust, for each other. It was delicious, and it was so hard to put down at night so of course you woke up tired and slightly delirious. You would read during the day but you had so many responsibilities so you took to reading during the night, on the plus side Levi didn’t go to bed until 4am so you weren’t bothering him with your reading.

You sunk down beneath the covers and opened your phone ready to get a few more chapters in. An hour later, Levi walked into the bedroom expecting to see you sleeping or to help you if you were still awake. Thankfully you were asleep, laying on your side with your phone open and in your hand. He went to plug your phone into the charger when he caught a phrase on the screen, ‘tight hole’. He finished the chapter all while standing beside the bed before turning off your phone and plugging it up. He wondered how you would react if he recited such things to you, definitely determined to find out.

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love-killed-the-superstar · 3 months

Text

The Last Ronin 2: Re-Evolution Issue #1 LIVEBLOG

SPOILERS ABOUND. I'M NOT GOING TO BE NORMAL ABOUT THIS IT'LL PROBABLY GET SUPER LONG

Okay so Casey Marie's muscles are something I'm never going to get over. SHE LOOKS GOOD!!!!! Her getup is feeling a little too reminiscent of a cape-wielding superhero for my tastes to be honest - I really loved the more practical outfits she wore in TLR Lost Years, especially in issue 4 when she was running the training mission for the kids. But ah well, I'm sure this will grow on me. It may not be practical (edna's law of no capes is coming to mind, also PLEASE TIE YOUR HAIR UP WHEN YOU'RE FIGHTING GIRL!!!) but it's very cunty anyway which I appreciate

Straight up thought she killed this guy - what was that sound effect if he's still able to walk??? I fr thought she snapped his neck

IDK if we needed a whole 8 pages of punching and kicking to exposition dump what we kinda already knew from what's been shown in the lost years (esp the lost day special) but IT'S FINE IG... NOW ONTO THE BABIES

SORRY, SORRY. TEENAGERS NOW.

GIGGLING KICKING MY FEET. We're ALREADY getting the leo-v-raph adjacent dynamic with these two and I'm living for it. if one of them drops a stone cold 'fearless leader' jab i will lose my shit

HI? HELLO, EXCUSE ME, MIND-TALKING? PICTURES IN HEAD? ARE WE A FAMILY THAT LUCID DREAMS OR SOMETHING?!?? I DON'T REMEMBER THIS BEING SOMETHING THEY COULD DO?? every new speech bubble here is like a punch to the gut, wdym telepathy wdym secret lair wdym honouring everything master splinter taught you???? (although i'm proud that when this panel dropped on news sites i was immediately like THAT ISN'T THE KITCHEN FROM LOST YEARS. turns out it was a Secret Lair TM)

Teenage Mutant Ninja Seance -- TURTLES COUNT IT OFF!!

not gonna screenshot the whole backstory but they're basically doing a telepathic puppet show explaining the backstory and it's pretty much the mirage origins with a bit of extra tlr flair. as always it HURTS ME seeing the turtles dying so thanks for that tlr2 :'')) icb these kids watch a mind movie of their uncles dying every fucking night. yall are messy

SOBBING AND CRYING,, I WISH YOU'D ALL HAD THE CHANCE TO KNOW HIM TOO!!!!!! I WISH YOU'D GOTTEN TO KNOW ALL OF THEM!!!!! (tlr splinter doesnt count tho because hes a dick)

there was a cool sequence of them rooftop hopping n stuff but i wont cover it bc we already saw it in a bunch of news articles weeks ago

i just did the SHARPEST INHALE. casey marie you and your beautiful muscular arms have aged like the finest wine

YI NO!!!!!

lmaooo moja is JUDGING your taste in women u two

lots of text... blah blah blah jobs, crimerates, blah blah... jiro in pig uniform jumpscare.. casey marie i thought u were going to fix him :(((

YESSSSS KIDS ARE GOING ON A MISSION WITH THEIR MOM, LETS FUCKING GOOOOO

MY BABIES ARE KICKING ASS!!!!!

....,.HUH

WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED TO MY BABY BOY ODIE!!!!!!!!!!! WHO DID THIS TO HIM!!!!!!???? WHAT??!???? HUH/1?!!? EXCUSE ME????

I'M . LIKE WHAT DO I EVEN SAY TO THIS. IT CAME OUT OF NOWHERE??? WHAT IS GOING ON!!!

FINAL THOUGHTS:

dude that first issue was wordy but the kids were ON POINT. they were so fun!! their dialogue is fun and they kick ass.

i loved yi announcing the punishment for casey while the others were like NOO SHE DIDNT MEAN THAT DONT LISTEN TO HER. we're getting more of their personalities and it's great!! it was a nice throwback to issue 2 of lost years when they were cleaning - yi refused to help because of how strictly she was following instructions. im picking up that she might be neurodivergent but i did get that from the lost years too - only doing things within strict instructions, getting frustrated at teaching odyn chess, not because of him playing horseys with the knights but that it was Against The Rules Of Chess - and now not picking up on some social cues. It's nice to see!! I love her very much, but it feels like besides rehashing the origin story she took a bit of a backseat to the other three.

i want to know more about why uno said being a rebel was moja's 'thing', since she didn't seem to be any more rebellious than the other three in this issue. we didn't get any unique interactions between her and casey marie which is what i felt was lacking from lost years but i wonder if this is hinting towards a more turbulent mother-daughter dynamic with them... I REALLY HOPE SO!! her and uno butting heads in a leo-raph way is very fun - i don't mind one or two prior group dynamics leaking into the new turtle siblings because they're all so different from the original 4.

uno seems to be taking on slightly more of a leader role than moja so i think he won the title of fearless leader. which is fine, i think it'll be fun to see and he's definitely less of an asshole now than when he was growing up in lost years. still picking on odyn a bit but seems to snipe at moja just as much. even when he was commenting on yi's storytelling he didn't make fun of her, though - i think she may have inherited the 2k3 don ability of being Completely Unbullyable.

i was really pleased that odyn felt more involved!! i feel like he took the backseat a few times in lost years - it was fun seeing more of his personality shine through! he and yi seem to get on the best, and i giggled at them rolling their eyes at moja and uno's raph-leo schtick. i didn't expect him to TURN TO FUCKING STONE THOUGH, so i'm nervous about that. WHAT DOES IT MEAN? WHO DID THIS TO MY BOY? IS HE GOING TO TURN BACK NEXT CHAPTER OR IS HE OUT OF COMMISSION UNTIL THE END OF THE RUN??? (if it's the latter i'll be a bit annoyed - don't take odyn away from the equation please!!)

I do wonder if by introducing casually that they can PSYCHICALLY CONNECT, the turtles will use that as a technique to reach odyn's mind to make sure he's still in there and piece together what's happened to him. i mean, their casual telepathy has gotta be some sort of chekhov's gun right?

and shit.... april was so fucking mad casey took the babies out so she's going to EXPLODE when she finds out what happened to her baby boy, her beloved favourite, her baby odyn :''(( im giggling rubbing my hands together waiting for the fallout but also if she cries i might cry too. speaking of april, she seems to be working on a new project and i saw nano particles mentioned - are we going to have a roninverse version of nano in this run???? I NEED MY ROBOT SON

as always, casey marie... u have aged like fine wine. u are stunning. disappointed that ur still believing that jiro can do good as a cop when their entire police force and government is corrupt as fuck. just feels very naive of her. i'm excited to see her break down at the concept of losing odyn - in fact i need everyone to mourn this beautiful kid. they tell us so much that shes a super clingy helicopter mom and i am picking up on the strict part, but it would be nice to see more of her just... hugging her kids. holding them. i get why she didnt in this issue but id love more mama casey squishing their cheeks and kissing their foreheads.

i have zero fucking clue what's going on with odyn. im wondering if it's somehow related to nano, or to whatever project April is working on - she says it's to do with clearing the tunnels, but I''m not convinced. who knows, there might be some ulterior motive happening.

Anyway, that's the end of my liveblog!! thanks for reading all the way to the end... go read it wherever you read ur comics!!!

#the last ronin #the last ronin 2 #the last ronin 2 spoilers #tlr #tlr2 spoilers

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trans-gainerism · 2 years

Text

Like, I’m fully against posting pictures of fat people without consent who are just living their life (they ain’t your fetish fuel!)

but I do have a little fantasy

You’ve been looking at gaining content online for a long time now- tumblr, porn sites, any weight gain stories you can find.

You wouldn’t gain weight yourself, you’ve always been fit and proud of it; and although you been slacking in the gym recently, the intention was still there. You’re just going through a rough patch, you don’t have enough time at the moment but you’ll get back to it soon.

But the fantasy of being massively fat always appealed to you, when you were younger you used to use cling wrap and pillows to make an impromptu fat-suit, getting off on how you looked once you struggled to fit a shirt over it.

But it was just a fantasy, and it would stay that way.

You get home from work, slightly out of breath - the bus must have stopped further away than usual, forcing you to walk more. That incline always was a little tricky.

Kicking off your shoes, you settle back into the dent you’ve made in your sofa. You fish out your phone and habitually open tumblr and start scrolling.

Teasing posts from feeders that make your stomach rumble, gifs of enormous jiggling bellies being played with lovingly, pictures of amazing starter bellies just starting to form muffin tops.

Then something gives you pause.

A photo catches your eye; it’s candid of a person on public transport, a bus is your best guess. You can’t actually see due to the immense size of the person obscuring the seat. Shirt pulled tight by a huge belly peeking out to rest on chunky thighs, they were basically spilling over the sides of the seat, their girth squished between the arm rests.

They were staring at their phone, held in a pudgy hand that rested on their distended gut like a table. A double chin framed their face, only accentuated by looking downwards - the flab all over their body captured in the photo mid-wobble from the vehicle’s movement.

Your breath caught in your throat.

It was you.

You stare in shock for so long that your phone goes dark, the reflective black screen showing you the shocking truth - revealing the same double chin in all its glory.

The photo must have been taken on your commute to work one day. Obviously, you hadn’t even considered anyone would be watching you - and you’d definitely be watching everyone else on the bus with suspicion next time.

You unlock you phone again, unable to stop looking at the photo.

Oh my goodness, that can’t be you… right? That enormous whale almost needing to use two bus seats? Sure, you hadn’t been prioritising fitness recently- but it hadn’t gotten that bad, surely?

You looked back on things in a different light; those shirts that shrunk in the wash? Getting out of breath easily? You realise the truth with a wave of heat.

You’re fat. Probably obese. All those midnight snacks, putting off the gym, and ordering takeout - it had started the domino effect that you don’t know how to stop.

Still looking at the picture, you reach down, gripping a handful of fat from your chest just to see if they were as big as the picture made it look.

They were. You drop it, and as it lands on your stomach you can feel it send ripples through your flab.

With a horrified curiosity, you click on the notes of the post. Hundreds of them. You go from reblog to reblog, looking at the added texts and tags.

“Woww, this piggy knows how to eat!”

“I bet this fatty doesn’t even know their belly is sticking out lol”

“#weightgaingoals”

A new rush of heat flutters through you, this time straight to between your legs. Your face is still flushed.

You spend the rest of the evening staring as the notes of the post go up and up, more and more people lusting over how huge you’ve gotten accidentally.

In a fit of arousal, you impulsively order an obscene amount of takeout - a large pizza along with additional meals from McDonalds, KFC, and a few local joints, one of which being an ice cream parlour.

You lustfully while away the night by stuffing yourself to the brim, fondling your heavy belly and reading the teasing and praise from these anonymous onlookers. You’re lost in the pure pleasure of it all, all regrets about your waistline muted for now. Hedonistic, gluttonous, greedy.

You wonder if you’ll look bigger in your next picture.

#wg story #wg text #weight gain fiction #weight gain story

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jazzthatonewriterchick · 1 month

Note

Heeyyy my first time requesting I read all your works I just wanna say it’s absolutely Amazing 🤩 but I’m here to request hawks x chubby black reader (if you don’t write for him I’m so sorry 😞)

Hopefully you can make it like “smile for the camera” except hawks is like “😳” when he first meets the reader but reader doesn’t like the way he’s staring at her and thinks he’s judging her (but really he’s not he just luvs the reader)

I’ll let you do the rest yourself

Again if you don’t write for hawks then it’s fine ignore the request😁

Stay safe,drink water,and luv yourself😘

As Beautiful as Moonlight (Hawks x Black!Chubby!Fem!Reader 18+ One Shot) [REQUEST FILL]

Pairing: Keigo "Hawks" Takami x Black!Chubby!Fem!Reader (Strangers to Lovers)

Synopsis: In which Hawks tries to show you that you are more than just a conquest and that his stares aren't because he's judging you. They're because he is dying to make you his.

Warnings: Smutty Smut; 18+; Chubby!Reader; Black-coded!Reader; Fem!Reader; Sexual Tension; Some Alcohol & Drug (Nothing crazy lol just weed); Flirting; Mutual Oral (Giving & Receiving); 69ing; Missionary; Doggysyle; Sex in the Mirror; Overstimulation; Sloppy Tongue Kissing; Mutual O; Snuggling

Writer’s Note: I told you I gotchu! I’m so, so sorry this is so late, anon, but I didn’t want to make you wait any longer for this request. I’ve been so busy with commissions, getting ready for my summer job, AND classes, but this is the least I can do for you. I hope you like it! Thank you so much for the love 🫶🏾🫶🏾 -Jazz

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“What are you lookin’ at?”

Hawks blinks once, coming out of the trance you put him in for about five minutes now…which is as long as he’s been staring at you like a weirdo. Or a dumbass, in his case, anyway.

He can’t blame you for giving him the evil eye as you sit together at the bar while the rest of your mutual friends yack it up over shots and the music playing from overhead. “Huh?” he dumbly asks, his mind having gone to mush in the five minutes he was staring at you.

“I said,” you pointedly repeat, “what are you looking at?” Your hand with your pretty nails wraps around your cocktail glass. Hawks imagines it somewhere else on his body.

“Uh…nothing,” he decides. “Just…” He tries to think quick, hating that he took a hit of a blunt before coming here and downed those two tequila shots before Mirko showed up with you as her work friend.

He isn’t usually like this: so clueless and all fumbly. He is known for his charm and flirtation when it comes to pretty women. You are no different. You’re about the prettiest thing in the bar in your red dress that makes your skin seem so vibrant and wraps around your body.

The fact that you’re a big girl makes no difference to him. He loves how your stomach rolls as you sit down; how your thick, soft thighs squish on the stool you sit on; how you have such an adorable softness to your cheeks. Hawks has never cared about the size of a woman. If he thinks you’re attractive, he’s going to try his luck to scoop you up!

But he’s also never had a woman give him such trouble and a cold welcome like you are now. “You were just starin’ at me because…why?” you pointedly ask, squinting at him, your long lashes framing your pretty, brown eyes. “I know this dress is tight, but you don’t have to stare.”

Hawks simply laughs, pulling the collar of his Armani button-down. “Well, you ain’t really givin’ me a choice in the matter,” he jokes. You scowl at him, earning a sheepish shrug from him. “But since you asked, I’m only starin’ because you’re the most beautiful thing in here.”

He watches as his words process in your head and registers on your gorgeous face. You look shocked at him uttering such words to you, but then that wall that he sees built up around you comes back, shielding you for whatever reason. “Right,” you scoff. “I think those shots have gone to your head…or you’re just tryna fuck.”

You turn away slightly, wrapping your soft, glossy lips around the straw in your glass. Hawks stares, unabashed in his attraction to you, his cock stirring impatiently in his jeans. “Well, I mean, if you’re offering…”

You look back at him with a hard stare that would’ve left him dead if looks could kill. “C’mon!” he laughs. “Can you blame a man for bein’ attracted to a pretty woman such as yourself? Why the pushback?”

He isn’t trying to sleep with you! He just wants to know why you’re so goddamn cold. Is it truly impossible for you to believe that a guy can be interested in getting to know you without having grimy ulterior motives?

You turn to him now, eyes still sharp and indifferent. “Because I know guys like you,” you huff. “You butter me up with your flirting, fuck me for the night, and then never call again. You are a bachelor, after all.”

Hawks states at you, his body becoming hot from such harsh words. “Now why in the hell would I do that?” he asks, honestly offended by such an assumption.

You blink at him, wondering if he’s serious. “Because I’m…” You motion over your body. “Fat. Chubby. Chunky. Whatever the fuck you wanna call me. I know I’m pretty, but guys like you don’t date girls like me.”

You chuckle to yourself, but it’s an empty laugh. Hawks can tell, especially with the way you look at Mirko who is so muscular and toned. She doesn’t have to worry about people judging her, flaunting her body in her skin-tight dress on the dancefloor. He hates to see it, so he does his best to stop it.

“Y/N,” he says, using your name since the first time he met you. It catches your attention immediately. “I don’t want you for a one-night stand. But would I want the chance to touch that body in the privacy of a bedroom? Hell yes!”

You flush at his boldness, looking away from his intense, golden eyes. “But believe it or not, I was thinking more on the “taking you to dinner and getting to know you” side, if you’re okay with that.” He searches your face for a possible yes, but all he sees is your eyes looking away from him even though your body is still turned his way. You seem like you want to say yes, but something is holding you back.

Hawks withers, disappointed, but he won’t push it. “I guess not,” he sighs. “Well, it was worth trying anyway. I’m gonna go get some air.” He gives you a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes before getting up from his stool and leaving you be.

He carefully meanders through the throng of pro heroes and regular club-hoppers with his ruby-red wings though people make way for him anyway. He walks to one of the exits and leaves the club’s hot, sticky atmosphere for the cool early-summer air in the alleyway.

He immediately digs into his pocket for his cigarettes, having toned down on nicotine a long time ago, but he still carries them around for stressful or disappointing situations. But as he sticks one of the cigs in his mouth and goes for his lighter, he stops and turns.

There you stand in the doorway, silhouetted by the lights behind you like some curvy, plump angel wrapped in a delectable red dress. “I didn’t know you smoke,” you say, nodding at the cig hanging out of his mouth.

He takes it out from between his lips, chuckling. “Yeah,” he sighs. “You ain’t gon’ tell on me, are you?” You shake your head and slowly walk out into the alley with him. You take something from behind your back: a glass of water with lemon. “I got you some club soda.”

Hawks takes the water, confused at the offer. “So you came out here to keep me company?” he asks, raising an eyebrow at you.

You look down at your strappy sandals with your cute, pink-painted toes hanging out of them. “I’m sorry. I’m just not used to people looking at me without judging me or with lust. I guess I just thought you weren’t serious.”

Hawks nods as he sips the water, his thirst quenched. “I can understand what it feels like to be judged and lusted after.” You stare at him, your eyes as big as the full moon hanging above you. “Really?” you ask, slightly breathless.

He nods wordlessly. Having made mistakes as a pro, people judge him. Having slept around and graced magazine covers, people lust for him. He can’t remember the last time someone really wanted him for just him and looked at him with kindness.

“I can’t say that I know exactly how you feel though,” he apologetically says. “I’m sorry you’ve ever felt that way and the need to protect yourself from others who can’t see beyond your body.”

You seem to know that he means that because you take his glass and drink from it, attaching your lips to the same spot his were on. He watches, his need for you rising. You stare at him over the rim of the glass, your eyes hooded and saying things to him that match his teak and his intentions. “I think I’ll take you up on that dinner date, Hawks,” you say, a slight giggle in your tone. “If you give me a dance.”

You give him a bashful, crooked smile that lights his damn heart on fire. He nods, too afraid to ruin his with his words, and you take his hand in yours, leading him back into the club.

Several drinks, convos, and a dance later that gives him a boner because of how close you are to him, your back pushed up against his front and his hands on your hips, you and Hawks finally get to dance in private hours later when you leave together, much to Mirko’s astonishment.

“Wow, you managed to get her, Hawks?” the Bunny hero gasped while he led you into an Uber. “Damn, you must’ve put a spell on her! I was sure she’d send you packing!” She pulls him close by the elbow and lowers her voice, intimidatingly so. “Just take care of her, understand?” she asks, giving him a stare that would make any man piss his pants. Hawks only nods, promising you mutual friend.

And “taking care of you” he absolutely does. The man makes you cum four times throughout the night at his luxurious penthouse:

The fits time on his couch, coaxing you to bend over and let him massage and spank your plump, soft, jiggly ass that he swears his heaven sent as he plunges his tongue into the velvety, wet walls of your pussy while you moan and toss your behind back into his mouth much to his enjoyment.

The second time is in his bed, your legs pinned down onto the mattress while he tails you, his cock plunging in and out of you and his wings wrapped around you, allowing you to feel safe and comfortable while he dicks you down and makes you gush all over his cock, feeling fetal at the sight of your tummy and tits jiggling, causing him to fill you up.

The third time is when his dick is down your throat and wrapped in your pretty lips while his face is once again buried between your asscheeks, his tongue in your cunt, hungrily lapping at your folds and making you cum again, your moans muffled from his dick lodged in your throat while your delectable pussy spasms in his mouth.

And the fourth and last time (because you physically can’t take another orgasm) is when you’re getting bent over and fucked from behind by Hawks in front of his full-length mirror. His hands hold your hips while his wings wrap around you, physically holding you up because your legs are too weak.

Your hands grip his arms as he pounds into you from the back, creating lewd sounds of his balls slapping against your clir, his firm thighs meeting your asscheeks, and the squelching of his cock plunging deep in your pussy as he fucks you like there is no tomorrow. “F-Fuck, Hawks, right there!” you sob. “Oooh, yes, right there!”

He watches your pretty face contort in pleasure in the mirror, loving how soft you feel pressed against him and how you sound moaning from your soft lips that he’s been kissing all night. “Keigo,” he huffs in your ear. “Call me ‘Keigo’, baby. I don’t wanna be just Hawks with you tonight.”

You nod, moving your hand between your thick thighs to rub your clit in time with his thrusts. “Keigo,” you moan. “You’re so fucking good at this!” He smiles, becoming cocky at seeing you lose your mind on his dick. “Yeah?” he teasingly asks. “You love gettin’ this pretty pussy fucked by a pro, don’t you?”

You only moan and whine in response, but that isn’t good enough for a gluttonous whore like Hawks.

SMACK! The sharp sound of his hand connecting with your asscheek makes you moan and your pussy tighten around him. “That was a question, baby bird,” he whispers, teasingly sucking on your earlobe.

“Yes!” you gasp, the sensations too much. “Yes, I love it! I love it s-so, so much!”

“You’te not to bad yourself, y’know, datlin’,” he moans. “You’re body is so fuckin’ perfect!” He grips one of your juicy tits as he pounds into you faster, hitting that spot inside of you that makes you see stars. “Look at you,” he demands. “Look in the fuckin’ mirror. Look at that pretty face and perfect body gettin’ fucked.”

You do as he says, looking into his mirror as he fucks you, bringing you closer and closer to your end. “Oh, God, I can’t!” you lament. “I can’t…K-Keigo, I’m gonna! I’m gonna!” You can’t even finish your sentence because of the pleasure, your lips quivering just like your pussy is around Hawks’ thick cock.

“You gonna…gonna what, baby bird?” he chuckles. “You wanna cum for me again?” You pathetically nod, making him cackle. “God, you’re insatiable!” Bur so is he. He would fuck you all night if he could, but even pros have a breaking point. This second orgasm is going to flood you, he promises.

“Cum for me, Y/N,” he begs into your ear, slamming into you harder as you rub your clit. “I’m close too. Rub that little pussy and fuckin’ give it to me, baby!”

It doesn’t take long for him to blow his load inside of you, flooding you with cum that drips down your thighs. His moans and orgasm rigger you, causing your pussy to quiver and flutter around him as you cum. A string of moans of his name and swears leave your lips as you cum, coating his cock in your sticky juices. You wrap your arm around his neck, bringing him into the crook of his neck, connecting you both to this moment of bliss.

“Kiss me,” he demands. You turn your head and do so, your tongues swirling and lips sucking, creating a very messy, sloppy kiss that makes his orgasm feel that much better.

When the amazing feeling finally fades and you come down from your high, Hawks gently pulls out of you, making your pussy spurt out his cum. The sight nearly makes him hard again. “You’ve made a mess on me, baby girl,” he pants. He motions to his cock shining in your cum.

You turn around, your body illuminated by the moonlight pouring in through his balcony window. “I’m sorry, sit,” you giggle, looking up at him through your long lashes. “I’ll clean you right up, I promise.”

You then get on your knees and begin to slurp his clean, your tongue tunning over his shaft and balls. He moans and whimpets at the sensations, biting his lip.

“M’s-sensitive,” he hisses. Though to see you be such a little cockslut for him after being so closed off and cold is a treat indeed. Perhaps it takes the right person to bring that side out of you. Hawks wants to think that this person is him.

When you finally finish, you give him a cute little smile, your brown eyes sparkling. “We need to lie down,” he states and you nod, agreeing. He helps you up and scoops you up before flapping over to his bed. He lays you down on the silk sheets first before lying down beside you.

Both of you lay on your side facing each other, his hand on your hip and yours on his chest. “That was really, really nice, H–um, Keigo,” you softly say into the quiet, dimly lit bedroom. “Thank you.”

He smiles, filled with butterflies at the sound of you using his real name. “It was my pleasure,” he sighs. “Thank you for giving me a chance. So what do you prefer? A steak dinner or Hibachi?”

You giggle and press a kiss to his lips as you lay next to him, as beautiful as the silvery moonlight lighting the bedroom.

THE END.

#hawks x black!reader #hawks x black reader #hawks x you #black fanfic writer #smutty smut #black coded reader #bnha smut #hawks smut #chubby reader

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