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lordprettyflackotara · 23 days

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if u think i’m pretty || chris & matt sturniolo || the finale

SMUT MINORS DNI 18+. threesome time😛 the boys are just a tad like just a sprinkle of mean/rough. sorry mom. this is just utter filth. the long awaited finale is HERE. holy fucking shit i did not expect this series to blow tf up, yall have been so supportive & wonderful & funny asf😭 i’m very honored to be welcomed into the sturniolo community & i thank all of you sm for the support & new mutuals ive made along the way 🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼

part one w/chris

part two w/matt

An undeniable tension hung over the Sturniolo household. One that Nick couldn’t figure out.

In his mind everything was fine one day and then awkward the next. His three best friends couldn’t stand to look at each other. Chris and Matt wouldn’t stop coming for each other’s necks. It was a complete and utter shit show, one that not only put a dent in their content but with their personal lives too.

After a week or so Nick had decided he was going to fix this, whether the three of you liked it or not. You sighed, crossing your arms as Nick handed you a flashlight. “Why are we doing this again?” Chris questioned, hesitantly taking the flashlight Nick was offering him. The four of you stood at the door of the basement, awaiting Nick’s explanation as to why he summoned you all here. “It’s our house and if our house is haunted then if there’s a ghost down there it’s our problem,” Nick answered, handing Matt a flashlight.

Matt furrowed his eyebrows. “Aren’t the flashlights kinda dramatic? I mean we have electricity and shit,” He asked. Nick sighed, rolling his eyes. “And if the ghost cuts off the power? Then what? Now let’s get this over with. Tough guy Matt gets to lead the way,” Nick huffed. Matt shrugged, flicking on the light switch to illuminate the stairs. He head down them first, you and Chris exchanging glances. You immediately felt flustered under his gaze. You turned your heels and followed Matt. Chris gave Nick a look, one of suspicion.

He shrugged his own theories off, trudging down after you. The three of you reached the bottom, the basement more furnished than you had remembered. You shivered as the cool air danced across your skin, goosebumps spreading across your body. You looked to the top of the stairs, spotting an unmoving Nick.

“Nick?”

“I don’t know what the actual fuck you three have going on but you need to figure it the fuck out. None of you are leaving this basement until you get your shit together!”

With his words echoing off the walls, he slammed the basement door shut. You could hear the clicking of a lock, your eyebrows furrowing. “This is all your fault, you can’t keep your hands off of what’s mine, can you?” Chris barked. His venomous words were directed at Matt, who looked like he was ready to throw a punch. “Oh i’m sorry, I didn’t realize you were dating. Tell me, is it an open relationship? I saw what’s her name leaving your room this morning,” Matt debated. Chris took a step closer to him, glaring at him.

It dumbfounded you that they appeared to be trying to size each other up, despite being the literal exact same height. “I don’t do that 1950’s shit, you know she’s mine by the way she moans my name,” Chris argued. Matt snickered, rolling his eyes. “She moans mine louder you man whore,” He smirked. Chris began to push Matt’s shoulders aggressively, the two beginning to turn the altercation physical. You dashed in between them, putting one hand on each of their chest.

“Jesus Christ stop it! You two have been driving me nuts!” You yelled. Both boys looked down at you, their focus centering on you. “Enough of this alpha wolf bullshit you guys have going on. I like fucking both of you, believe it or not,” You huffed. You pushed them back, the boys willing taking one step backwards. “Are you both really going to bicker and hate each other the rest of your lives because you both fucked me? For fucks sake-” You began rambling.

What you didn’t know and what Nick didn’t know, is that none of their hatred was real. Matt was a logical person even when his dick was involved. Late one night he shoved up at Chris’s bedroom door, the two coming to a resolution. They both enjoyed fucking you. They both enjoyed the idea of watching you fall apart in between them. But you going behind Chris’s back to fuck Matt? That couldn’t go unpunished. So instead of giving you what you wanted, they dangled the carrot in front of you.

Purposefully Chris would have his usual flings over, convincing them to be as loud as possible to get your attention. Matt on the other hand would masturbate in more public places. Mostly the shower, making sure you were hanging out in his room so the walls connected. He’d groan and pant dramatically, pumping his cock to the thought of you. You expected to be railed when he came back. But instead? Nothing. The boys kept you hot and bothered, intently driving you insane.

They also kept up the arguing banter, picking fights with one another any time you were around. Chris was responsible for this idea. He wanted you to lose your cool, finally telling both of them how you felt to their faces. And now as you stood in between them, they exchanged knowing glances. Their plan had worked.

“Are you both even listening?” You questioned, offended that the boys seemed more amused than anything else. Chris shrugged, readjusting his beanie. “We’re just wondering when it’s gonna hit you,” He replied honestly. You turned towards Matt. “What’s he talking about?” You asked. Matt took a step towards you, gently guiding your chin to look upwards. You felt your breath hitch under his simple touch, the sensation one they had purposely deprived you of.

“We just want to watch you fall apart for us baby, you don’t have to choose,” Matt answered, gently tucking some stray hairs behind your ear. You felt Chris’s hands grab your waist from behind, his body pressing against yours. “Just want you to be a good girl for us, you can do that, can’t you?” Chris asked, pressing a soft kiss against your ear. His breath was hot against your skin, his hands traveling up to your breast. “Yes, I can,” You agreed, swallowing. Your mouth was running dry, your cheeks flushing pink.

Chris roughly grabbed a handful of your hair, yanking you closer to him. “Fucking Matt behind my back though? I can’t overlook that sweetheart, you need to be punished,” He purred. You whimpered under his hold, Matt pressing his body against yours. “You can handle it, you’re our good girl,” Matt cooed, his soft voice making you relax just the slightest bit. You could feel your panties begin to dampen under their hold, the constant shift in dynamic only making you more turned on. Matt pressed his lips against your neck, a whimper escaping your lips.

“And you know i’ll make you feel good,” Matt chuckled, kissing down your neck. He dropped to his knees in front of you, staring up at you with puppy dog eyes. “Can I remove these?” He asked softly, his fingers toying with the hem of your shorts. You sighed in relief as Chris let go of your hair, allowing you to look down. “Matty please,” You pleaded. Chris’s large hand was on you again, squeezing around your throat. “Matty please,” He snickered mockingly. You groaned under Chris’s rough touch, his spare hand slipping under your shirt.

Coolness hit your exposed cunt as your shorts and panties pooled at your ankles. Tenderly Matt kissed the inside of your thighs, taking his time to tease you. “If you want him to get on with it you gotta use your words princess. Tell Matty what you want,” Chris barked, nipping on your earlobe. Your hand flew down to Matt’s hair, desperation flooding over you. “Please eat me out, or finger me, just something. Please. I need your mouth,” You begged. You tried to buck your hips towards his mouth, the brunette amused. Matt chuckled as he brought his mouth to your heat, wrapping his arms around your thighs.

“Oh fuck!” You moaned, Matt’s tongue lapping just where you needed him the most. He swirled his tongue around your clit, licking up your juices like a starving man. “How does that feel princess?” Chris asked, squeezing the sides of your throat. You were a mess, gripping Matt’s hair as you grinded against his face. “So fucking good, so so so good,” You babbled, Matt’s lips wrapping around your clit. Chris released your throat, keeping his hand wrapped around your neck but allowing you to breathe.

You groaned as Matt continued to abuse your cunt with his tongue, a familiar knot forming in your stomach. “S-shit i’m gonna-” You began, Chris’s grip on your throat returning. “Not fucking yet, hold it,” He ordered. You could feel your thighs begin to tremble, Chris’s strong hands holding you in place as Matt continued to suck at your clit. His pupils were blown with lust as he looked up at you, admiring the sight of you crumbling above him. Pleas began to spill from your lips as you squeezed your thighs, Chris’s words sending you over the edge:

“Cum.”

Ecstasy didn’t even begin to describe the euphoric feeling the boys had sent you into. Your heart was pounding, your breathing shallow as Matt rose to his feet. He brought his lips to yours, roughly kissing you as Chris released your throat. You felt Chris roughly grab your ass, his hard cock poking you from behind. You made an effort to try to palm him through his pants, but instead he pulled away. You strayed away from Matt’s lips, glancing back at Chris.

“You wanna fuck Matt so bad? Go on then,” Chris spat. Matt walked over to the couch sitting down,cockily man spreading as he smiled at you. “W-what-” You stuttered, humiliation falling on you like a ton of bricks. Chris roughly grabbed your face, forcing your lips to puff out like a fish. “You couldn’t stop yourself from fucking him right? Now you get to do it again. Go ride his cock for me,” Chris huffed. You whimpered as he brought his lips to yours, before shoving you in Matt’s direction.

With quick maneuvering you both stripped Matt of his jeans and boxers, his hard cock hitting his stomach. “Dont be nervous baby, i’ll help you,” Matt cooed, kissing your back. You turned to meet Chris’s gaze, his eyes centered on the sight in front of him. He was sitting on the coffee table, palming himself through his sweatpants as you lined Matt’s cock with your entrance. You had never rode someone like this before, gripping Matt’s knees for support as you faced Chris.

You could feel Matt’s ring dip indents into your hips as he guided you, his cock bottoming out inside of you. To Chris, it was like watching a live porn video with him in it. Matt tenderly kissed your back, allowing you to adjust as your walls spasmed around his cock. He helped you slip off your shirt and bra, leaving you completely exposed to Chris. “Fuck,” You whined, Matt’s cock brushing against your g spot.

Your eyes screwed themselves shut, Matt’s hands gripping you harder has guided you to ride him. Mesmerized he watched your ass bounce up and down on his cock, your cunt eagerly taking his cock as you rode him. “Such a good whore for us,” Matt groaned, biting his bottom lip. You could barely focus on moving your hips, Matt’s cock creating the most sinful noises from your lips. “Look at me,” Chris huffed. Your gaze centered on Chris, who was pink in the face. Cock in hand, he licked his lips eyeing you hungrily.

“That make you feel good? Being a toy for us?” Chris asked mockingly, tilting his head to the side. You nodded in agreement, Matt’s hips beginning to buck up into yours. He was fucking you from underneath, your legs becoming putty under his touch. Matt couldn’t take it anymore, needing to bend you over and ruin you. He grabbed your hips, planting you on the couch on all fours. Your back arched instinctively, Matt’s cock beginning to ram into you mercilessly.

Chris ran his thumb over his slit, quietly whimpering at the sight of Matt snapping his hips into yours. His cock was buried so deep inside of you that you were seeing stars, your moans of Matt’s name echoing off of the basement walls. Originally Chris had intended on waiting for his turn, but he couldn’t wait any longer. He needed to feel you, any part of you. He would never admit it, but he was just as desperate for you as Matt was. He kneeled in front of you, brushing your hair out of your face.

You felt your mouth water at the sight of his cock, your tongue flattening out on your bottom lip. “You filthy slut, fuck, you’re perfect,” Chris groaned, burying his cock into your mouth. He pushed his cock back further into you, his tip hitting the back of your throat. Tears flooded your waterline as he used your mouth as he pleased, curses leaving his lips. “So fucking tight,” Matt murmured, pounding into your cunt. He could feel himself getting closer to the edge, your cunt milking his cock.

“Fuck, gonna fill you up. Gonna make you full of me,” Matt panted, throwing a smirk in Chris’s direction. You moaned around Chris’s shaft, the vibrations only making him harder. With a few more thrust Matt was cumming, flooding your cunt with his seed. You could feel the warmness of his cum filling you, pulling his cock slowly out of your cunt. Saliva was dripping down the sides of your mouth, dripping onto the couch below.

The boys switched positions, jealousy radiating off of Chris. He would’ve loved to cum down your pretty little throat, but letting Matt breed you like that? He couldn’t just let him claim you like that. He slid in you with ease, pounding into you like a wild animal. You fell forward, Matt’s soft hand cupping your face. “Awe you’re so cute getting fucked, you know that don’t you?” Matt chuckled. One of Chris’s spare hands snaked down to your clit, drawing sloppy circles. You grabbed onto Matt’s wrist, struggling to keep your eyes open from the pleasure.

Mixtures of their names, curses, and sinful moans were ripped from your throat, Matt’s soft hands never straying from your face. “So beautiful,” He murmured. You could feel him stroking your cheek with his thumb, sweat sticking the hair on your forehead to your skin. “Going to breed you, knock you up,” Chris panted. Your cunt was driving him insane, his orgasm coming close. “I can feel you squeezing me. You’d like that huh? To get knocked up with our kids?” Chris snickered sinisterly. You babbled an agreement, your final orgasm crashing down over you.

Chris threw his head back, his cum mixing with Matt’s as he came deep inside of you. You were seeing stars, your face being held up by Matt’s gentle but reassuring hands. “You did so good for us,” He praised softly. You could feel Chris slip out of you, your cunt red and puffy from the abuse. You whimpered at the loss of contact, Chris chuckling. “I’m right here, relax princess,” He panted. Matt kissed your forehead, the three of you finding contentment in each others presence.

It was odd in a way, to have your rival and best friend beside you. The three of you exposed and vulnerable, coming down from the best highs you’d ever had. Your vision finally settled, your gaze landing on Matt. “Hi there,” He greeted. You giggled, the situation surely odd, but satisfying. It worked for the three of you and that’s all that mattered.

“You think Nick heard any of that?” Chris asked, fixing his sweatpants. He admired his and Matt’s cum dripping out of your cunt, a sly look painted across his face.

“Probably not, I mean we are in the basement after all-”

The three of you could hear the basement door open, Chris quick to stand in front of your exposed body.

“You can bet your ass I most certainly did. Are you jack rabbits done now?” Nick called down the stairs. The three of you awkwardly chuckled, Matt’s face in particular turning pink.

“Yeah we’re done!” Matt yelled back. You could hear Nick verbally sigh.

“Next time i’ll throw some carrots at you guys. Now get up here we have a video to film!”

taglist: (i have no idea if im doing this right sorry guys ily)

@nickgetsmewetter @chvrryzpop @hesvoid34

#matthew sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo x y/n #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo fanfic

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midnightwriter21 · 2 months

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jjk hcs: the jjk boys as boyfriends

characters: yuji itadori, megumi fushiguro, yuta okkotsu

warnings: none (i think?)

AN: if there’s anymore boyfriend hcs that you’d like to see lmk!! read gojo & nanami as boyfriends HERE

YUJI ITADORI

oh girl i am JEALOUS

he can be a little air headed at times but he’s the sweetest bf ever

i say he’s air headed but he’s actually very attentive

you get half an inch trimmed off your hair?

he notices immediately

“babe your hair looks great!”

notices everything about you actually

from your favorite color

to the brand of PENS you prefer to use

who tf notices the brand of pens people use?!?

yuji does

yk the tiktoks of boys picking entire BUSHES of flowers for their girlfriends

that’s him.

he straight up rips a whole bush out of the ground from the front of jujutsu high to give to you

principal yaga was not amused

gojo was tho

HE PRINTS OUT YOUR INSTAGRAM PICTURES TO REPLACE THE POSTERS OF MODELS ON HIS WALL

he’s so proud that your his girl fr

oh and he’s gotta hella pet names for you too

they’re all super basic

babe, sweetheart, cutie, etc.

he flirts w u like y’all aren’t together

awful pickup lines and everything

“do you have a mirror in ur pants? cause i can see myself in them.”

if u don’t think he’s the cutest then u can go argue with the wall bye

MEGUMI FUSHIGURO

he has me in a chokehold

anyways

at the beginning of y’all’s relationship he’s awkward as fuck

but he eases up pretty quickly

veryyyyyy private with y’all’s relationship

if you somehow get him to hold your hand in public let alone give you a kiss?!?

girl count ur blessings fr

and it’s not bc he’s embarrassed of your relationship or anything no ma’am

it’s bc he would NEVER hear the end of it from gojo, nobara, and yuji

valid excuse

but when you two are alone?

oh girl it’s like he’s glued to you

when i say clingy? i mean it

also

king of nap time!!

he’s kidnapping u, bring you to his dorm room, dropping u on the bed, and laying completely on top of you

swear it’s his solution to everything

ur tired? it’s nap time

sad abt something? it’s nap time

a curse beat ur ass? it’s nap time

gojo is being annoying? it’s nap time

nap time cures everything ong

he’s not too crazy w the pet names

in private he’ll call you babe

in public you’re lucky if he adds a -chan to ur name lol

he’s so pretty boy

also can we appreciate his gorgeous luscious eyelashes?

no? okay

YUTA OKKOTSU

i would give my first born to make him feel happy, safe, and loved

KING OF MY HEART

he’s so baby

he’s the type of bf that no matter how long y’all have been dating he still gets flustered over you

y’all been together for an hour? he’s blushing when you give him a kiss on the cheek

y’all been together for a week? he’s blushing when you give him a kiss on the cheek

y’all been together for a year? he’s BLUSHING WHEN YOU GIVE HIM A KISS ON THE CHEEK

HE. IS. BLUSHING.

which is so incredibly endearing and innocent

but don’t get me wrong

mess with this man too much?

oh he’ll snap

he has the patience of a saint. but when it runs out?

oh ur in for it miss gurl

period.

teasing him a lil too much tryna make him flustered

when he finally snaps he is switching that dynamic up real quick

now he’s the one smirking and feeling all smug while you’re the one with the bright red face

ahem…

anyways

yuta’s love for you is very intense

now don’t start thinking HE is intense cause no

i mean yuta loves you so much that he might just crawl up inside ur body and live there

that type of intense

you occupy his mind 99.9% of the time

he’s on a mission and has time to stroll through the mall

“oh y/n would like that” aND HE’S BUYING IT

he’s chit chatting with inumaki and panda

best believe he finds a way to bring you up in conversation

“oh! that reminds me y/n said something the other day about…”

he is the softest ever when it comes to pet names

sweetheart, my love, princess, etc.

i’m so soft for him he deserve the world

1K notes · View notes

literaila · 3 months

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how do u think satoru would react to reader in a depressive episode, especially what do u think the kids would do

obviously, they’ve all noticed.

the past couple of weeks have not been lived through ignorantly. and you have not been acting normal.

the differences are just that, at first. tiny inconsistencies in your otherwise normal personality, your routine.

and then it becomes more than just a… change.

it starts off simple; megumi’s brows furrowing when you ask him a question—something about his teacher, or what kind of drink he wants in his lunch that day—and then forget what you’ve just said as soon as he answers.

tsumiki watching, smiling along idly, as you rub your temples, sighing with every other sentence and squeezing your eyes tight like you’ll be able to wake up if you try hard enough.

and satoru noticing when you linger in your room a bit longer, as the days pass. staring when you freeze looking at the wall in the morning, zoning out so hard that he has to shake you back to life.

just an accumulation of things that might indicate that something is up.

but as these moments—moments when you’re lost in your head, trying to conceal your entire being from all of them, and pretending that it’s all normal—increase, the three of them learn a little something about observing.

and lying to themselves, of course.

eventually, though, when megumi or tsumiki inevitably say something—usually when you’re not in the room, off hiding somewhere—satoru just shrugs.

(he’s going to lie his way through this, just like everything else, thank you).

“it’s a bad day,” he’ll say, like the two children will comprehend that. like they don’t know what a bad day means. “she’s just tired.”

he could make a million excuses for you. oh, you didn’t get enough sleep last night. oh, you’ve only had one cup of coffee today. oh, the world is a truly terrible place and it’s only natural that it runs you down.

but he leaves them with the simplest of explanations, instead. maybe it’s his subtle way of denying that there’s anything wrong. that you could be upset about something. it doesn’t matter, anyway.

and tsumiki, ever so trusting of all of you, listens to him. if satoru says that you’re okay, then so does she. she’ll draw you a picture at school or try to help you make their lunches in the morning, but you’re fine. her questions end with an answer.

megumi, on the other hand, has never believed a word that satoru has said.

so when the older man swears that you’re okay, that they don’t need to worry, megumi only begins to worry harder.

he sees that look on your face when you walk in the room, and megumi knows. maybe it’s because he’s the most attuned to you, out of everyone, in particular. maybe it’s because he’s observant, or too worrisome for his age (as you tell him).

but he knows.

and if satoru says one thing, megumi’s going to believe the other.

(plus the two of you have always had a symbiotic relationship. you worry about him, and he worries about you. you laugh at him, and he gives a little lip twitch in return).

so satoru is not surprised when megumi brings it up for the fourth time in a week.

“you want me to what, exactly?”

“you can talk to them, can’t you?” he repeats, giving satoru a bland look. something like ‘are you serious.’ “they know you.”

satoru snorts. “i don’t think my bosses will appreciate me telling them what they can or can’t do.”

megumi gives him another look.

and yeah, so satoru already does that. they still don’t appreciate it.

he sighs, smiling at the boy. anything to mess with him, really. he ruffles megumi’s hair. “kid, she’s fine. i can’t just tell them to give her a couple of weeks off. there has to be a reason. and,” he adds, cheerfully. “i’ve been told it’s impolite to speak on someone’s behalf without their input.”

“you don’t care about being polite,” megumi argues, crossing his arms.

satoru groans internally. he’s really not going to let this go.

it’s not that satoru necessarily disagrees, but anything he does to help you is going to be refuted with a “butt out,” or “leave me alone, satoru.”

“true,” he says, grinning as he mocks the boys stance. “but i do care about being yelled at. particularly by your mother.”

“she needs a break.”

satoru rolls his eyes. “she’s getting one. the next couple of days are free, and she’s taking a nap right now.”

megumi frowns, even deeper than usual, and stares satoru down until he breaks.

“megumi,” the man groans, childishly, pushing the boy out of the room. “you don’t need to worry about her. chill out. just go back to reading about rocks or whatever you were doing.”

“it’s geology.”

satoru waves a hand, indifferent.

(secretly trying to come up with a way to get you to talk to him. he can’t ask because you’ll just ignore him. he can’t force it out of you because that would get the two of you nowhere.

what other options are left, really? you’ve put satoru in a terrible position).

“then can we get something, instead?” megumi asks, almost pleading. “flowers, or… whatever girls like.”

“y/n already has flowers. i bought them.”

“buy something else.”

“who taught you to be this stubborn?”

megumi only scowls at him.

satoru sighs, scratching his head. he knows he should do something—but he’s so used to sitting around and waiting for you to fix everything.

yes, he does recognize that it’s a terrible habit, and completely unfair. he also recognizes that he is the worst person in the world.

eventually he sighs. “okay. how about i order dinner?” he asks, almost wincing. it’s the most natural response—everything can be fixed with food, in satoru’s sophisticated opinion. “that’ll be easy. want to go ask mom what she wants?”

megumi practically runs to your room, leaving satoru with no time to remind him that you’re probably asleep, knocking just briefly—from what satoru can hear—before going in.

he tip-toes up to the door, also wanting to check in.

satoru is nothing if not nosy.

and he might as well let megumi do all of the dirty work.

“um, i don’t care,” he hears you saying. “whatever you guys want.”

“it’s for you.”

there’s a pause. then, “really, megs, i’m not very hungry, so…”

megumi is frowning down at you when satoru steps in.

“good nap?” he asks, smiling and sitting at the edge of your bed.

“you don’t need to get dinner. it’s my turn.”

he waves a hand. “i feel like takeout.”

you frown, about to argue when megumi speaks up, glancing between the two of you with an almost furious expression.

“what’s wrong?” he asks, his voice soft but mad. like usual. satoru realizes that he’s been tricked into contributing to this.

“what?”

“why are you upset?”

“upset?” you repeat, eyes widening. “i’m not upset, megu—“

“are you sick?”

“no,” you say, immediately. “i’m just a little tired but it’s—“

“megumi,” satoru interrupts, trying to ignore the almost hurt look on your face—the glance you send his way, pleading and worried. he knows you hate this the most. “let’s let mom sleep some more, okay? tsumiki and you can decide what you want—“

“no.”

and neither of you can argue, or console the confused boy, before he’s climbing into your bed with a determined look on his face.

satoru tried to grab on to him, but megumi is having none of that, shaking him off before he can get a good grip. you’re looking at satoru anxiously, and this is the worst.

if satoru knows anything about you, it’s that you don’t want to be coddled. you don’t want to accept any help, even if it’s from your sweet, concerned son.

“megumi—“ you say, though, satoru notes, don’t make any attempts to move him when he struggles to get under the covers with you, or when he just sits by your side, barely touching you.

“i’m staying here.”

“really, bud, i’m okay. you don’t need to worry about me.”

“you’re sad.”

“i’m not.”

megumi looks at you, and satoru watches as you both share a glance. an internal conversation he’ll never get to be apart of.

for once in his life he’s not even jealous about it.

“it’s…” you say, but the two boys watch as your shoulders slack and your face drops. all at once, you lose color, life, and just sit there. “it’s fine.”

you say it to them, but it sounds more like a reminder to yourself.

satoru’s face falls. he has no idea what to say, what to do to help you—he’s spent so much time denying that there was anything wrong, that he could do anything to help, and now he’s got no answers.

he feels like an idiot, sitting there. megumi shouldn’t be taking more initiative, he should be the one worrying about you, the one to go to—

megumi doesn’t say anything though. he only moves closer to you, not complaining when your arm wraps around his shoulder and you hold him to you.

like a life vest. a support in all of the vastness.

he doesn’t need to say ‘it’s okay,’ or ‘i’m here for you,’ for the words to ring out across the the air.

and, satoru realizes, quickly, he’s only doing what you do for them. what you do best.

climbing in beside them and making sure they know that they’re not alone. being that support, no matter how unwanted.

megumi’s learned from the best.

“sorry,” you mutter to him. “i know im gross.”

megumi shakes his head and settles into you even further. and the boy doesn’t cuddle—or, at least, without being forced—but your face softens as he leans against you, allowing this kind of intimacy.

and, maybe, satoru thinks, that’s the problem with all of you.

no one knows quite what to say. what to do to help someone with something that they can’t understand. neither he or megumi is sure how to dig you out of this hole.

none of you are very good with words.

but, at least, satoru knows how to be good at this.

he sets his glasses on your bedside table, and he moves you both over with ease, smiling when you both grunt at his intrusion.

and then you’re a tower of people, all leaning against one another. building blocks stacked on top of each other.

you relax into satoru almost instantly and he kisses the top of your head, feeling some sort of pride—just at the fact that you’ll let him be here, with you.

maybe that’s the thing with families, he thinks. no one needs to say anything for it to be okay.

and the uneasiness sits there with all of you. the past couple of weeks—the distancing and disassociating—linger there.

there’s nothing he can say to make everything all better. he could destroy the entire world right now, save for your house, and it still wouldn’t be enough.

but this is nice. a hug might not fix everything, but it won’t make anything worse

and after a minute or two, you say: “where’s tsumiki?”

and she peeks her head out from your door, smiling at all three of you. it takes her three seconds to jump on the bed, having been waiting there the whole time, the final piece to your messed up puzzle.

#not sure what any of this means but 🤫#a typical family #gojo satoru #jjk gojo #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x y/n #satoru x reader #satoru x you #jjk fanfic #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader

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neteyamslovrr · 1 year

Note

congrats on 2k!!🤍🤍

may i request number 8 + angst with ao’nung?? thank you!

FORGIVE YOU

thankuu smm for giving me this prompt, i had lots of fun with it. ao'nung is not as babygirl and he is more stupid meanie bf.

Cold, alone, and restless. That is what the last few weeks have consisted of every time you tucked yourself into the hammock for two. Only being used by one.

Ao’nung says he’ll be back before it is too dark, the stars in the sky being the only light that shines on your village. He says that he won’t get caught up with his friends, he will always be back to sleep right next to you.

But he isn’t. And he hasn’t been for days.

So now you lay with your back turned to the entryway of your shared home, listening to Ao’nung’s voice get closer. Laughing boisterously as if he didn’t care he has left you alone for another night.

You wanted to get up and scream at him. Maybe you would do it in the morning. The night begs you to sleep but your mind screams to argue with Ao’nung. To express the weight of his actions and how they ache your poor heart.

He walked in, large smile immediately dropping as he saw your tired form swaying softly on your shared hammock. He knew he said he’d be back to be with you, he knew he had betrayed your trust once again, and he knew he was hurting you.

He large feet padded against the fabric floor, the only sounds were his anxious breathing followed with your soft disappointed sighs.

“Flower…I’m sorry.” His hand rested on your shoulder, begging you to face him so you could sense his sincerity.

“You said you were going to be here with me tonight.” You looked away, staring harshly into the wall you faced. Your heart was beating as the confrontation of his actions teetered closer to you.

“I know. And I messed up…I am sorry.” Turning towards him, still laying in the hammock, glassy eyes fixated on his guilt ridden face.

“How many times am I supposed to forgive you?” He winced at your words, escaping your tongue, and lashing him in the heart.

“Just this once, I- I won’t do it again.” Rolling your eyes you scoffed. You couldn’t believe a word coming out of his mouth. How could you?

“How can I trust you? You have done nothing but lie and break your word.” His heart tore just like he had torn yours. How he wished he would’ve looked into the sky more to recognize it was time to go back home. Back home so his beautiful mate was not left to deal with the absence of his presence. Where he could treasure the moments they shared and not create memories of breaking your heart into two.

“I will show it to you. I promise.”

You pursed your lips, tired of the arguing. No longer wanting to talk about this, your body yearned for sleep. You shuffled over in the hammock, making room for Ao’nung. He was your mate, your other half, souls intertwined. You could talk about this in the morning.

“Let’s just sleep. I don’t want to talk about this anymore.” Ao’nung frowned, he knew you were still upset. He knew you would talk this out in the morning, but he wished that when he shared this hammock with you, that you were not sharing despair. That is his own fault.

“I’m sorry flower.” He reiterated again as he slipped in behind you, arms hovering over your body, not sure if he still held the right to hold you.

You could feel his hesitance, and you couldn’t deny how much you craved his warmth for so long, Days of being without it. You lightly squeezed his hand, showing that even if in a fight he is still your mate, you would sort this out in the morning.

But now you let your bodies melt into each other, filling the tears in the other hearts, as Ao’nung hoped you would forgive him one last time.

thankyou so much for reading my loves <333 i'd love to see u in my notifs !!

#ao'nung oneshot #ao'nung x reader #aonung #aonung xreader #aonung x you #avatar the way of water #avatar oneshot #ao'nung fic #ao'nung fluff #avatar #ao'nung #avatar x reader #atwow #ao'nungfluff #ao'nung x fem!reader #ao'nung x you #aonung fluff #aonung x reader

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keeksandgigz · 7 months

Text

roll for initiative (part two of lessons in alchemy)

barista!eddie munson x fem!barista!reader AU

summary: You venture into your new position at Eddie's cafe, but you seem to be having a hard time. Eddie gives you hell for refusing to be trained. The confrontation comes to a head after you say something you shouldn't have. A heated game of DnD leaves you wondering about the purpose of this place. Things heat up after you and Eddie close the store alone.

cw: 6.8k words, swearing, modern setting, Eddie and reader being mean to each other, shitty description of a DnD game, teeny bit of angst (sorry), horny sexual tension, smut, spanking, choking, not quite piv yet, fingering, denial this is 18+ minors dni!!

a/n: Surprise! One day early because I'm an impatient little shit. i dunno how to play DnD i'm going off whatever my boyfriend tells me. also kill em all IS the best metallica album, argue with the wall. Debated on making it a two- parter but i wanted to get to the smut <3 pls like and reblog! feedback always appreciated and my ask box is always open if u wanna talk!!!

baby taglist: @corrodedcoffincumslut, @sleepy-bunnie,, @crybabyddl (let me know if you want to be added!)

Eddie's right.

You're indeed crashing and burning as you make those stupidly named lattes, but the rest of the crew is nice enough to help you along the way. Virginia really is coming into her own, quickly mastering every drink that is thrown her way.

Yet you can't shake off the feeling of Eddie stalking towards you, his hot breath on your face. How it didn’t scare you, rather, it excited you. You enjoy picking fights with him, ripping him apart and him doing the same to you. It's not healthy, but it helps with your anger.

“Those were three pumps of elderflower. I believe you need four for a large, sweetheart. Crashing and burning so soon?” he comes up behind you, startling you.

“Get the fuck off of me before I throw this scalding hot drink at you” not when you're working. You cannot take his taunts while working.

“Just checking up on you” he shrugs “maybe you might have changed your mind about me training you. I know these are not the dumb little detox drinks you do at your cafe. Which is really what makes the store much more interesting and attractive, doesn’t it?”

“Eddie I swear to God” it becomes more than taunts. He seriously wants to fuck with your brain.

“Jeff” he snaps his fingers towards the guy “I’m gonna go take my lunch, you’re in charge ‘til I’m back” his attention diverts away from you for a second, then back to you. “Could you be a dear and make me an extra hot flat white with almond milk? Add a couple pumps of Irish cream syrup in there. I’m expecting a white dot, after all if you’re so perfect you don’t need training that’s gonna be a walk in the park for ya, huh?” he leans against the counter and he’s so condescending it makes your knees tremble.

“Yeah, duh. I’ll spit in it for ya too. Sounds good?” you panic a bit. Flat whites are not your forte.

“I knew you’ve been spitting in my drinks, sweetheart. Kinda hot, to be honest. But that’s a violation, wouldn’t wanna get Jim involved, do we?” he raises his eyebrows at you, looking down at you, making you feel like a coffee bean on the ground. Kinda hot.

“I was just joking, dickhead”

“Hm. Better be. Another filthy word from you and I’m sending you home.” he whispers. “Alright, going on my lunch. Virginia, you’re off you can go home, Chrissy, take your last break in thirty minutes” and with that, he disappears to one of the tables, watching you make his drink.

That should be a form of cruel and unusual punishment. Just him staring at you, making sure you get his drink right. Pull two ristretto shots.

You aren't buzzing anymore, rather, your brain begins shutting off, drained by all the tension that has been building between you and Eddie. Two pumps of Irish cream. Maybe you actually aren't good enough to be here. Froth the almond milk. Maybe he's right, maybe you are meant to work in a mediocre cafe, making shitty drinks. Espresso first, then milk. You aren't good enough for this level of mastery.

Fuck. No white dot.

You tremble as you walk towards Eddie, sitting at his table, watching you bring him a cup of mediocre coffee.

“No white dot” he says, looking at you with displeasure.

“I’m sorry, I-”he interrupts you.

“You wanna get trained or are you gonna be a little know-it-all and then deliver me this?” he sips on his flat white.

“Ok, fine. Train me, whatever.”Embarrassment overtakes you, wanting a hole to form under your feet and engulf you.

He's right, he has been right all along. Tears begin to prick at your eyes.

“You okay there? Y’know I was joking, right? It doesn’t matter I just-” a spark of guilt lights itself in his throat, you look like you're about to cry.

“Can I take a second?” you say, the knot in your throat threatening to snap any second.

“Yeah, um go- go take your break” he breathes. Fuck, he's made you cry.

You run off towards the back, wanting to disappear. Everything that has happened within those past two days begin to wash over you.

Your cafe is gone, the project you had worked on with your dad before he got sick, gone for the next year. And he’d likely not see it reopen.

Eddie being an asshole, holding a grudge on you because you took his customers, making your life a living hell.

You sit in the back as you wipe some tears that fell from your eyes. Across the room, there's a door that you have not seen before, and it's ajar.

Curiosity gets the best of you, as you walk into a small, secluded room. It's full of beakers and jars of ingredients, really selling the whole alchemist thing. You look through the ingredients elderflower, rose, peppermint, honey, basil. Basil syrup sounds disgusting.

You turn towards the work bench, noticing a bottle full of clear liquid labeled lavender syrup. You open it and immediately smell the astringent flavor coming from the bottle. You pour some on your finger and take a taste. Ew.

He needs a better lavender syrup recipe.

“The fuck are you doing in here?” Eddie’s voice makes you drop the bottle to the floor, shattering and spilling the astringent liquid on the floor.

“Oh- shit sorry! I was just- i just got curious”

“You can’t just come in here and act like you own the place. Curious my ass, you were trying to steal” he accuses, and that hurts you.

“You know I won’t fucking do that, I take my work seriously. Also your lavender syrup tastes like ass, and basil syrup? That sounds foul” you wince, stepping over the broken glass, to make your way back to the front.

He grabs your arm and stops you. “Aren’t you gonna clean that up? Broom’s in the closet” he says, offering you a smug smile.

“Get the fuck away from me, asshole” you reply, jerking away from his grip.

“Alright that’s it” is all he says before he slams you against the wall.

He's close. He's so fucking close.

Your back slams against the brick, hitting a random canvas panel. You can feel his breath on your face, the smell of coffee and cologne inundating your senses.

“You have been a fucking pain in my ass since you opened your dumb little cafe. You’ve been rude, unruly, untidy and down right mean towards me, and I’m fucking over it” he seethes, he has you caged in between his tattooed arms and all you can think of is tracing every line of his tattoos with the tips of your fingers.

“It’s been four fucking hours, y’hear me? Four hours and I’m sick of you. Y’think you’re cute? You’re a fucking brat, sweetheart, and I don’t like dealing with brats like you.” Your stomach feels funny, like you're taking on a challenge rather than a scolding.

“Clean your shit up and go home, I don’t wanna see your fucking face today. Come back when you have gained some common sense in that empty fucking head” he lowers his arms, but you aren't done.

“Or what? You think you’re so scary, Eddie, with your stupid tattoos, your fucking stupid hair and your stupid satanic shirts. I don’t give a shit who you are, I’m employed to work here and you can’t fucking send me home because you don’t like me. I’ll fucking report you, freak”

Freak. His breath hitches at that, years of high school bullying getting under his skin again, making him swallow hard at the unwelcome memory of being slammed against a locker on Monday mornings before class. He stiffens up.

“Alright” he swallows “clean this up and get back to work, I don’t wanna see you right now” you notice that his demeanor has changed, you visibly hit a nerve. Guilt pools at your chest.

“But what about- about the training?” you ask, voice hitching.

“I’ll get Gareth to train you, Virginia should have gone home already. That way we’re both happy. Take tomorrow off, I’ll see you Tuesday” and with that he leaves.

He keeps himself buried in his office until the end of your shift. He can't bear to stand the sight of you, not after you had called him a freak. That stung more than whatever stupid insult you could have flung his way.

When you turn up on Tuesday, Eddie is nowhere to be found.

“He took the day off,” Steve says. And you feel real fucking bad. You're scheduled for a mid- shift from three to seven.

“Hey” Jeff says “we’re closing early today ‘cause we’re doing a DnD campaign after. Since Eddie’s not here, would you mind taking over for me so I can start setting up? We close at six-thirty, so after that you can, like, sweep, do dishes and then you can go home”

You aren't in the mood for a snide remark or a witty comment, so you just agree. “Is Eddie gonna be here tonight?” you ask. You’ve been trying to hound him to apologize for whatever happened the day before, it's clear he's avoiding you.

He was supposed to be on the schedule.

“Yeah uh” he replies “he’s our DM, so we kinda need him” he shrugs.

“DM?” you froth a cup of oatmilk, turning towards him while he's making his drinks.

“Yeah. Dungeon Master?” he gives you a Isn’t that obvious? expression and goes back to his iced hazelnut macchiato.

“Kinky” you retort, he laughs a bit.

At six-thirty you lock up the store and you confine yourself to the back for dishes. Keeping an ear out for Eddie’s voice, hoping he’d show up before 7.

Colette left with Steve to work on the Halloween menu and “I don’t fuck with that nerd stuff” said Steve, fixing his glasses after putting his coat on.

“…no Henderson you don’t get it “Kill ‘Em All” is definitely Metallica’s best album, are you shitting me? …No don’t come at me with that “Enter Sandman” bullshit you’re so basic for that, you fucking poser” your ears perk up at that. It's definitely Eddie.

You peek your head out of the back door to see him set up a big table, followed by a bunch of what look like high school students as they sit down, with their spiral notebooks and pens.

A bunch of small figurines scattered on the cardboard mat as Eddie sits at the head of the table, pulling out a leather bound folder covered in stickers and a cardboard screen.

They're serious about this.

You're too busy staring at the crowded table to notice Eddie running towards you.

"Daddy didn't teach you it's rude to stare?"

You press yourself against the green tile wall to let him pass, words caught in your throat as you follow him into his office.

"Apparently daddy didn't teach you that stalking is bad either. What is it? Need somethin'?" he spits out and you can feel the venom in his words.

"Yeah, I just" you clear your throat. Talking was hard. He cocks an eyebrow at you as he begins rummaging through his desk drawers.

"Well?"

"I just wanted to apologize for-"

"For being a bitch the other day? Took you long enough" he scoffs as he retrieves a small tin box containing what you assume are dice.

"Um- yeah. I guess that" you shrug and turn your feet to leave the door.

"I need to hear you say it, sweetheart. It's not a real apology otherwise, is it?" he has this ability to make you feel so incredibly small with only the power of his words. Like he's talking to a toddler.

"I don't think that's necessary, Eddie, I mean um- I have to get back to work" you protest.

"You can go back to work when you give me a full apology" he's ticking you off, gloating in his victory of you admitting defeat. The white banner you're waving slowly turning red.

"You're being a cunt, take the apology and go play your stupid nerd game" you snap, and you can see his lips curling in a wicked grin. Challenge accepted.

"All this talk of me kicking you to the curb for your filthy mouth really isn't sticking huh? Sorry sweetheart, can't accept an apology you don't mean" he shrugs, heading out of his office, you follow him suit.

"Eddie what the fuck?! Are you actually mental?" you want to strangle him, shove those dice so far down his throat he chokes and dies.

"I'd recommend you scrub those dishes really hard, I can still see the grime on the blenders. If you'll excuse me, I gotta lead my party through the rivers of Bagodan" he winks and then he walks over to his table, leaving you mortified.

You do a once- over with the dishes, while hearing Eddie's shrill voice screech and laugh every time one of his players miss. What's so fucking funny about a couple kids rolling dice?

"Looks like you've made it to the last river" he narrates in a solemn voice, deeper, hotter "Oh, but what is that? You hear shrieking from a distance. It's a sphynx. To cross the river you have to behead the sphynx and bring it to the king of Bagodan. Only then he will grant you access to the wings of Saurion the Elder, and you... will be... free" he says in a whispered tone.

"What do you do, my brave adventurers?"

"Shit" you hear one of the kids swear, he's tall with black hair. "We don't have enough hit points to kill the sphynx AND get through the king's palace guards"

"You’re astute dipshit, congrats!" says another, a girl, looking much younger than the rest.

"We would have had enough points if Dustin here, hadn't fucking sold his to the market for a stupid cloak" says Gareth, shoving the kid who you assume is Dustin

"it was aN INVISIBILITY CLOAK" Dustin yells. The room booms in laughter at the kid's tantrum.

It makes you think. About how you've never had a group of friends like that. Someone to share a common interest with. Sure, you have Colette, but you've moved to town just fairly recently, and you have lived and breathed work for the first two years. No friends to make when you're cooped up home buried in projects among projects. No friends to make when your dad is sick and you have to take him to the hospital on Saturdays for his treatment. You sigh a bit at that. Maybe your cafe exploding is the catalyst that is gonna bring you a new life, a new perspective.

Coming to a store that has unity as a top value really makes you reflect on how lonely your life has been so far.

"Alright children, let's take a break and you can talk strategy. Anyone want a drink?" He stands up from his chair and walks towards the bar. Startled, you go back to the sink and begin scrubbing.

"Y'know you can join us, right?" he leans against the green tile wall, looking at you.

"Join in on that nerd shit? No, thanks. My shift is over" you say putting the last blender on the drying rack and heading to the back.

He follows you "Okay, whatever. I just wanted to tell you it's gonna be me and you tomorrow. Chrissy said she can't make it. Something about midterms" and you roll your eyes.

"Fucking perfect. Tell me in what world does this shit always happen to me" you say exasperated, taking off your apron, which allows your shirt to rise just enough that it gives Eddie a peek of your tummy. Enough to make him gulp a little. Enough to distract him for ten seconds.

He shakes his head. "Listen, I'm not happy about it either, but let's keep it civil, okay? I do my thing, you do yours, we're outta here by 9 pm" he offers, leaning over the metal lockers.

You're not sure if it was the Dungeon Master demeanor he keeps on for the sake of his game or what, but he feels so tall. The thought of it makes you shiver. You put on your jacket.

"How you gettin' home?" he asks.

"Driving" you lie, your car broke down the day before, but you don't want him offering you a ride.

"Alright, I'll see you tomorrow for closing, then" he says, giving you a tight smile.

"Yeah, bye" you respond hastily, heading out towards the bus stop. Eddie keeps an eye on you through the store window the whole time.

Wednesday night at the "Mad Alchemist" is busier than you expected. Steve left for the evening, leaving you and Eddie to man the fort by yourselves.

Meaning you have to watch him flirt with every fucking customer. Young, old, boy, girl. His self assured demeanor is like a magnet to those coffee- hungry teens, the older women just blush and deliver him a meek "aw, stop it, Eddie" swatting the air and giggling.

Because you both have been so busy, it has not given you time to run your mouth and deliver him some snarky comment.

By 8pm, the store is closed. You have an hour to sweep, clean the counters, mop and do the dishes while Eddie counts the money at the register.

There is a tense quietness in the cafe. Almost as if you know that if one opened their mouths the world would explode. Or you’d start fucking, whichever one comes first. There is no noise aside from the register opening, the broom dragging across the floor and Eddie whistling.

After a day of talking, listening, screaming, shouting, the last thing you want to do is hear Eddie whistle. You let him do it, one minute, two minutes, five minutes in hopes he would get tired.

“Eddie, please” you whine.

“Helps me count money better,” he shrugs, beginning his atrocious whistling again.

You wait one, two, five minutes again. The noise of the sweep and the whistling and the money become too much for you, so in an exasperated rage, you kick the chair in front of you.

“Eddie shUT THE FUCK UP!”

The noise of the chair is the only sound in the building. Eddie stops counting, and stops whistling.

He's just staring at you. At the fallen chair. At the broom next to your feet. You find the floor to be really interesting.

“Pick it up.” Eddie’s voice is distant. A few seconds go by, and your eyes are still on the floor.

The sound of paper being put down and the stomping of heavy boots follow, until his boots arrive in your line of sight. You can't help but raise your head.

“What part of ‘pick it up’ does not register in that head? Hm? Do you kick chairs at home?”

Defeated, you shake your head.

“Do you call your daddy names?”

Another head shake.

“Do you spit in your daddy’s coffee in the morning?” his voice becomes a whisper, so, so close to your face. So close to your lips.

“I didn’t-” he cuts you off.

“I don’t appreciate liars, sweetheart. Did you spit in my drink?” he's cornering you, making you feel small.

You nod. “Only once, though” you defend yourself.

“Only once” he mocks, chuckling to himself “sixteen.” he mutters.

“Sixteen is the number of times, from the first time i stepped foot in your goddamn cafe, I’ve seen you spit in my fuckin’ drink” he seethes, no, growls.

“Now you’re fucking lying” you interject, finding a small crumb of courage within you.

“Don’t act cute, I’ve seen you. Pick the chair up” he says, his chin tilting towards the chair on the floor.

“I can’t pick it up if your stupid arm’s in the way, can I?” he grunts and moves his arm. You bend over and picked the chair up, breathing through your teeth. You're furious.

“Watch your attitude, here we don’t-”

You snap your neck around “You’re a fucking control freak, that’s what you are” you mutter. There's that word again. Freak.

“Don’t you fucking dare call me that word again” he's furious.

You turn around to face him. It's your turn to be close “Or what? You gonna spank me?” it's barely a whisper, looking at him through your lashes. A challenge.

He exhales, crossing his arms “You know what? That’s the best idea you’ve had since you’ve stepped foot in this place. Bend over the table” He whispers, and you freeze.

If there is a definition to fuck around and find out, you're it.

“Seems you might be a bit hard of hearing, sweetheart. I said bend over.” he says, more gently, yet keeping that domineering aura to him. He nudges your arm.

You quietly follow through.

“Now you’re following orders. Before I start I need to know you’re okay with this” he whispers, caressing your back in an almost soothing manner.

You nod.

He tuts “None of that shit. I’m not doing anything until I have your green light. With words”

“I-” words suddenly become hard. You swallow and breathe through your nose “I’m- I’m okay with this”

There is no denying you're extremely turned on, in addition to being revved up by your previous fight. It feels like wildfire spreading itself from every tip of your body, finding a home right between your legs.

“Alright, good. If you want me to stop we can stop at any time, just say ‘chainmail’” he says, looking around to check if the blinds had been lowered. He has a safeword. He knows what he's doing.

“O-okay” you say with all the power you can muster.

“You wanna act like a toddler, sweetheart? I’ll treat ya like a fuckin’ toddler” he says, before delivering the first smack right on the meat of your left butt cheek.

You’ve tried spanking before, with previous partners, but this is different. The smacks are calculated, like he knows where to hit. A yelp escapes you.

“Need ya to count” he says, caressing the area he just hit.

“‘Kay, fuck. One” you exhale, still feeling his handprint on your ass. The red hot sting from the impact leaving tiny pinpricks through the fabric of your jeans.

Smack. Two.

“How ‘bout this?” he stops, speaking to no one, really. “How ‘bout I give you one spank for every time you’ve spit in my coffee, hm?”

That makes you tremble a bit. Sixteen slaps.

“I dunno if I can, I mean I-”

“Then you know what to say if it gets too much, right? Say ‘Yes, Eddie, I do’” his voice makes your knees give out as his other hand, the one that isn't squeezing and groping your ass, makes its way into your hair and pulls.

“Ow- Fuck, Jesus Christ Eddie!” you yell, but the pull at your scalp makes you wish he’d drop the antics, pull your pants down and fuck you immediately.

“Not what I wanna hear, sweetheart. Try that again” He smacks your ass again, pulling his hand out of your hair to hold your back down from the waist.

“Three, fuck. Yes, Eddie, I-I do” you exhale and prop yourself up on your elbows.

“Good girl,” he says. Good girl. He could easily smack you in the face and that is would shock you less. Where the fuck did he learn all this shit?

By the time you’ve reached spank number ten you think you're ready to tap out. Tears welling in your eyes, making your vision go blurry. You're turned on, but Eddie’s heavy hand is becoming too painful.

He notices you trying to squirm away from him with every hit of his hand, all he says is “You know what to say, don’t you, sweetheart?”

But you let him keep going. Thirteen, Fourteen, Fifteen, Sixteen.

The last slap feels like the roughest, leaving in its wake the phantom of a heavy hand. His hand rubbing circles on your ass, almost like he doesn't feel ready to stop touching you.

You turn your head around, so you're able to see his face.

“Mmmm, so what now?” you ask, still hazy “Gonna take me home, Eddie? Finish the job?”it's like your brain has forgotten who you are talking to.

“C’mere” he says, sitting you down on the table, your ass rough and sore under the fabric of your pants.

You can feel the slick feeling between your legs through the seam of your black jeans, hoping he’d move you to keep going, take you home, his office, his van, anywhere.

His body settles between your legs as his hands run through the expanse of your stomach, your back. Your hands make their way to the buckle of his belt, trying to quickly undo his jeans. Eddie inhales as if to convince himself to stop you as he grabs your wrists and pushes them to your chest, his belt left unbuckled “Not tonight,” he murmurs.

You pout in protest.

“Aww, you’re pouting” he mocks, a dry laugh escapes his lips. It brings a twang of embarrassment "pouting 'cause I'm not letting you take my dick in your mouth, sweetheart?" he taunts.

“I‘m not pouting” you mutter, looking at the floor. His hands grab your chin, lifting your eyes to make you look up at him. He looks so tall standing over you like that, eyes still glossed over, pupils blown from the spanking he’s just given you.

“You look at me when I speak to you, yeah?” Oh fuck. You know better this time.

“Yeah” you croak out, nodding your head in case he doesn't get the message.

“Yeah? You liked getting spanked? Being put in your place?” his demeanor never fails in making you feel impossibly small.

The hand that holds your chin travels down your neck and you lean into his touch, in the way his hand wraps itself around your throat, warm and rough. Who are you to say he isn't gonna strangle you and kill you?

But the feeling of his hand around the column of your neck, covering its whole surface area feels too intoxicating, like you want him to make you stop thinking. Your breath hitches.

“You’re lucky I didn’t have my rings on. With the way you’ve been running your mouth you would’ve more than deserved it” his grip on your neck going from resting to actually applying pressure to the sides of your throat. You gasp.

He just watches you, eyes glossy and desperate while you try to press your thighs together to relieve some pressure. Poor thing. He almost feels bad for you. The way he sees you keen into his touch, labored breath, watching your chest rise and fall slowly.

“We can’t do this here, Eddie. The health violations” you say, barely a whisper, mustering whatever breath and thought you can. Your brain feels foggy and fuzzy with the slight pressure of air being constricted. He chuckles.

“Didn’t you go to UCLA or something? Aren’t you supposed to be really smart?” his tone is mocking, you swallow at the embarrassment, hand letting up on your throat to grab your hand. He isn't here to be soft with you. He is here to make a point.

“Me choking you got you actin’ all dumb already?’M impressed. C’mon get off the table, we can’t be here” he says, making you stand up.

“Where- where are we going?” you feel winded, and you haven't even done anything. He leads you through the cafe, the bar, the back of house, where the drying dishes sit abandoned on the rack. Right at the threshold to his back office, the cold green tile arch pressing against your back.

“I don’t know, but I really wanna kiss you right now.” and you feel like your breath has just gotten knocked out of you. He wants to kiss you?

"You wanna- huh?" he slams you against the wall, just t prove a point "Shut the fuck up" he says as he puts his lips on yours. Famished, animalistic.

There is no room for gentleness. No room for sweet caresses and soft praises. His hands groping and feeling your hips, grinding into him. The friction against his tattered jeans make a whine escape you. Too much and not enough.

His teeth clash with yours as you both open your mouths, the way he tastes made you dizzy. His mint gum and cigarettes inundate your senses as you pull at the hair tie that is keeping Eddie's unruly hair in place.

Reaching under the mane of hair, you pull at his nape, where his curls are smaller, more defined. He groans.

His nose skims your jaw and licks at the hinge between the bone and your neck, making you yelp. A small oh escapes you when his hands work to untuck your shirt out of your jeans, his cold hands sneaking past the barrier of clothing to touch at the skin of your stomach, the sides of your breasts.

His mouth is warm against your neck, tracing every ridge, every line, every mole, 'til he reaches the juncture between your neck and your shoulder and he bites.

"Eddie, you fucking freak don't bite me" you hiss, head thrown back as he lifts your shirt up, leaving it completely abandoned on the floor.

He moves you off the wall and into his office, mouth not stopping his assault on your neck, stumbling towards his cluttered desk. With one move, a space big enough for you to sit is created. His shirt comes off in the process. His pale chest, skinny, but toned and littered with tattoos, is the only thing you are able to pay attention to.

"I hear that fucking word come outta your mouth again I'll-" he begins.

"You what? More spanking? Consider me terrified" you interrupt, all an evil plan to egg him on. Blinking your eyes up at him. He is seething.

"God, do you ever shut up?" he asks, a groan leaving his lips continuing to kiss you, teeth and tongue and spit, his hands coming out from under your shirt to grab your chin.

You look up at him, hair wild and unruly, eyes blown out, a wicked glint in his eye, almost like he's plotting something.

“Open your mouth” he says, and you looked at him, a puzzled look on your face. He squeezes your cheeks in response, forcing your mouth open. “You fucking brat” he mutters.

You keep your mouth open, expecting his finger, something. Instead, a glob of spit makes its way onto your tongue. He spit in your mouth. You throb.

“Eddie what the fuck-” you begin, but he interrupts you.

“You didn’t seem to mind spitting in my coffee, did you? Consider this a payback. Swallow it.” he smirks against your lips, lightly tapping his fingers on your cheek, not quite a slap. You obey immediately for the first time that night.

His hand travels down to the seam of your jeans, your breath becoming more labored with all the building tension from the night.

“Eddie…please” you whine, arching into his hand, not wanting to pull back anymore. You want release, brain hazy with the feeling of being under him, the way his rough hands are touching you, exploring you, grabbing and groping at the curves of your body as you arch into him.

His hand begins moving back and forth, the heel of his palm making direct contact with the seam of your pants, forcing a strangled whine out of you.

You grind your hips in sync with his hand, as the other sits on your cheek, cupping it, moaning in his mouth at the small amount of friction he's giving you. “Can I take your pants off?” he asks, soft against your mouth. You’ve never nodded so fast in your life.

He quickly makes work of taking your shoes and jeans off, pooled at his feet while his hands caress and grope their way up your thighs.

“You’re cute when you’re not being a cunt, you know that?” he whispers against your mouth, hand ghosting over your panties, practically feeling the heat radiating off of you.

“Fuck you, Eddie,” you say through gritted teeth, motioning to hit him in the chest. He stops you, grabbing your wrists with his hands.

“I suggest keeping that filthy mouth at bay if you really want me to do something about that big, wet patch on your panties, hm?” he whispers, licking your bottom lip, his hand still keeping an iron grip on your wrists.

“How ‘bout you stop being a cunt and fuck me?” you’ve had enough of his teasing and taunting.

“Who said anything about fucking?” he chuckles, his hand moving down to grope at your ass. “No, see, that would be improper, don’t you think? Fucking your boss in his office. You kinky bitch” he delivers a sharp smack down to your ass, reviving the dull sting from the spanking earlier.

“You’re not my fucking boss, Eddie. Stop talking and- ohmygod”

His other hand begins massaging over the crotch of your panties, making direct contact with your clit over the fabric. “Made you this wet from spanking you? Think you might have actually been the freak this whole time, sweetheart.” He hooks his fingers on the sides of your panties “Lift.” He taps your thigh, you immediately lift your hips to let him take your panties off.

He laughs when he sees the mess that he’s made of your pussy.

“Fuck stop- stop laughing” you whisper out while his hands begin to spread your legs further.

“I think you secretly love me laughing at you. You think you’re so tough, bein’ all mean, callin’ me a freak like it doesn’t turn you on just imagining how much of a fucking freak I really am, huh sweetheart?” he skims your jaw with his nose, his words making you shiver as you clench around nothing.

His free hand sneaking its way around your neck, squeezing just enough to make you squeak.

Your hips lift off the desk, looking to find some kind of stimulation aside from Eddie’s cruel teasing touches.

He looks at you through his dark lashes “What is it, baby?” baby. baby. baby. The nickname makes your head spin.

“Eddie, I- fuck- please! I need-” your hips arch off the wooden surface as you feel his fingers prod your entrance.

“You need my fingers? Can you ask me nicely?” you want to kill him. He's reveling in the torture that he's putting you through.

“I f-ucking ah hate you” but you aren't really sure if you believe that yourself.

“You hate me sweetheart? I’m hurt. You won’t mind then if I just leave you here, do you?” he caresses over your inner thigh, the tips of his fingers coated in slick, clear arousal.

“No!” your hips lift once again “your fingers…please” His smile is pleased as one of his fingers enter you.

“That wasn’t so hard, was it? Good girl.” He's making your head spin, a choked noise leaves your lips as he pumps his finger in and out, finally getting the stimulation you need.

“More” you whisper, his other hand still on your throat.

“So greedy. Y’gonna thank me? Say ‘thank you, Eddie’”

At that point you can't even think about acting up. “F-fuck. Thank- thank you Eddie” and with that, he adds another finger.

God, you already feel so full and teetering the edge.

“Good girl. Now that I think about it, I believe you owe me an apology” he begins, his fingers working mercilessly inside you, while a string of breathy ah ah ahs are all the sounds you could muster.

“You were so mean to me the other day, I didn’t appreciate your tone while you were trying to apologize” he taunts, his fingers prodding deeper inside you. A small yelp escapes you.

“You were- you were ah” his fingers curl on your g-spot and your vision goes white.

“What was that? I was what, baby?” he begins to thumb at your clit, smiling like a maniac at the state he's reducing you in.

“Oh yes there” no idea how you're gonna finish your sentence.

“Feels good huh? Needa finish what you were saying, sweetheart, can’t have you going stupid on me just yet” his hand on your throat moves up to your cheek, delivering a couple light smacks to your face. You clench.

“Fuck, uh, you we-were being a oh god cunt” you say, mustering all the mental strength you can.

“Is that right? Funny how my fingers are in yours right now and you don’t seem to complain.” He laughs to himself, his thumb speeding up its assault on your clit.

“C’mon, sweetheart. I just need you to say ‘Sorry Eddie, I won’t be a bitch to you again.’ Can you say that or is your brain too fucking far gone to understand a single word i’m saying?” he teases, which briefly brings you back from the ecstasy of Eddie’s fingers working wonders on you.

“Fuck you, Eddie” you hiss through your teeth, immediately regretting it at the feeling of the coil in your belly beginning to tighten.

“Oh. It’s like that then. Alright” he simply says as he picks up his pace. Head thrown back as you revel in the feeling of nearing the edge of your release.

“Oh shit, get-getting close” you breathe.

“Apologize and I’ll let you cum” he smiles, a wicked show of bared teeth that only makes you both want to punch him and fuck him.

“Fuck n- Oh God- ‘m not apologizing for- for shit” you arch your back, trying to make yourself cum before he changes his mind.

“Fucking apologize” he insists.

“Fuck you” you say, followed by the unwelcome feeling of emptiness as he takes his fingers out. You really thought he was bluffing.

An empty ache grows in your stomach, feeling unfulfilled and disappointed. You sit there in disbelief, as he cleans his fingers off with a tissue.

“Pity” he shrugs “Get dressed, I’m taking you home” he turns around, heading towards the front.

You throw the box of kleenex at his head. You miss.

“You’re a real asshole, you know that?” you jump off his desk, ignoring the dull throb between your legs as you put your panties and jeans back on, following the trail of your clothes he left in his wake.

“Could’ve said sorry” he just says, closing up the register, while you put on your shirt and shoes “C’mon my van is around the back” he offers, grabbing his keys.

“I’m not fucking getting in your car. I can drive” you protest.

“Yeah, uh huh, you and what car, you fucking liar? Saw you at the bus stop the other day, and your car isn’t in the parking lot. You either let me drive or you can sleep in here tonight.”

You let him drive you home. The sound of Judas Priest blaring through the speaker only makes the stubborn silence between you two louder.

The ten minute drive to your house feels like an hour, as you itch to get off the dingy van and take care of what he left unfinished.

He finally parks up in front of your house, you quickly book it towards your door as he shouts “You’re welcome sweetheart” before you fumble with the keys and enter inside. He stays there until you do.

Your dad was asleep already, so you crack his bedroom door to check up on him. You sigh. Everything seems to be alright.

Once all the lights are off, you run towards your room. Still in disbelief of what happened with Eddie, you strip off your coffee- smelling clothes, wincing at the thought of Eddie’s hands sneaking under your shirt, his fingers hooking on the sides of your panties.

The feeling of hatred and arousal battling each other off while you recall his stupid smiling face as he removed his fingers from inside you. The dull empty ache as you came down from the euphoria of his touch and words.

That night, you kick yourself for not saying sorry to him.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x you #stranger things #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x reader fluff #stranger things fan fiction #eddie munson au #barista!eddie munson

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delayed-affection · 5 months

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Hi, I loved slumber party. Can u write about somehow convincing Justin to let u cut his hair or him asking u to cut his hair but it’s ends up really bad in your opinion but he likes it but the internet have a field day and u get upset and he defends u on social media

Uh oh

Oneshots Navigation

Justin Herbert x reader

Warnings: referred to as girlfriend once and her twice

Word count: 1.0k

His kind words and reassurance help to alleviate some of your guilt and embarrassment. Justin asked you to cut his hair for him you thought he had gone crazy. With his hair being a big part him and his image so it was weird that he was putting his trust in you.

And you were doing fine or at least you thought you were for a moment.

You were very careful with scissors, following his instructions to the best of your abilities but you’re honestly a visual learner and his instructions weren’t really of any help.

You tried your best to be careful, but each cut felt like a mistake and you felt increasingly frustrated.

By the time you had finished, you were tired and stressed out. Begging him to not look in the mirror.

You pull at his arm trying to get him to stop walking, “Please don’t look, I’ll get you a hat or a beanie that you could wear until it grows out.”

He chuckles as he unintentionally drags you to the bathroom with him, “It can’t be that bad.”

When you get to the bathroom you see his smile falter for a split second and that’s when you know it’s bad.

“You hate it.” You groan backing up into the wall.

He shakes his head and pulls you back over to him, “No… I don’t hate it, it’s just a little shorter than I expected.”

You look down at your hands, “It’s also choppy and one half of your head looks fuller than the other.”

"It's just a haircut, it's not a big deal." He tries to reassure you, but you’re still feeling a bit insecure.

“It’s YOUR hair and I messed it up, it is a big deal.” You argue.

He puts your face in his hands, making you look at him, “You did great and I like it. No correction I love it and I love you, okay?”

You nod, “I love you too but I still think it’s bad.”

He gives you a quick kiss, “Why are you being so difficult?”

“Why did you let me cut your hair?” You quip.

A couple days go by and everyone has seen his hair, the media team even posted a tik tok asking the players what they thought about his new cut.

And let’s just say they didn’t hold back on there roasts, letting the world and you know that they all hated it.

Sitting on the couch you read through the comments and they were just as cruel as everyone else.

The embarrassment starts to set in and you can't believe you made such a terrible mistake with his hair.

You try to console yourself with the thought that it wasn't such a big deal and that his hair will grow out soon, he can wear a hat when he’s not wearing a helmet. But you can't shake the feeling that you completely fumbled something this big.

You continue to read through the comments, trying to find something encouraging or sympathetic, but there is none to be found.

Now, more than ever, you are completely regretful of your actions.

When Justin comes back home you’re quick to apologize over the haircut once more. He’s barely through the door when you come rushing over, phone still in hand.

“I’m so sorry, Justin, i should’ve listened to your instructions better. I should’ve just said no when you asked me.” You tell him but you were talking quite fast, “I knew it wasn’t good, I knew-“

He shuts the door and drops his bags, “Baby, baby, slow down. What are you talking about?”

“Your hair.” You stress, “Everyone is talking about it and how bad it is.”

He gives you a look screams what the hell are you talking about, “What? Who’s everyone?”

“The social team, the guys… every nfl fan ever.”

His face stays the same and he doesn’t respond, he really needs to look at his socials every now and then.

You had him your phone, “Look.”

You stand there as he watches the video, listening to jokes and comments his teammates made about his hair.

He turns off the phone and pulls you into a hug, "You know, it's really not that bad. My hair will grow back. In the meantime, I'm happy you tried to do something nice for me. I'm not upset, so don't worry about it, okay?" His kind words and reassurance help to alleviate some of your guilt and embarrassment.

He can tell that the comments are still getting to you a bit.

He sighs and slips your phone into his pocket, “No more phone for you.”

You try to move around him to grab it but he avoids every advance you make.

"It's for your own good." He adds with a smile, "Look how about we do something else?”

He pauses to think for a moment, “We could do that paint and sip thing you’re always talking about?”

Justin stands at the charger podium after practice, answering the questions being thrown at him by the press.

It’s nearing the end of the conference and no one has asked about his hair, Justin thought that he had lucked out.

Until a reporter asked, “What happened to your hair? Did you upset your barber?”

Though it was intended as a joke he knew how it would effect you.

He shrugs off the question, “Well my girlfriend did it and she already feels bad about it so please keep your comments to yourselves.”

Another reporter is called on to ask a question, “Can I ask was it her first time or…”

He gives them a short nod, “It was and I will admit I didn’t give the best instructions so it’s not her fault. And just as I told her, it’s just hair it’ll grow back. If people don’t like it, then they shouldn’t look at me.”

He knows he was a little rude with his last comment but if it means standing up for you, he’s fine with it. Plus he was getting quite fed up with everyone.

Now he can only hope that the unnecessary insults and hate calm down.

#justin herbert #justin herbert imagine #justin herbert x reader #justin herbert x yn #nfl oneshot #nfl imagine #los angeles chargers

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bookbitch22 · 5 months

Text

So , just finished Iron flame and all I have to say is … what the actual fuck. I’ve made up a few theory’s for the next book , What’s gonna happen to Xaden , everything that’s going on with Andarna and Violets second signet.

(Might be a long one guys)

1.Venin, thoughts and ofc Xaden

Obviously this came as such a shock I was actually dying , but then I read the bit at the top of the page. It’s a correspondence between Nolan and General sorrengail that says that she’s requested research to be done on finding a cure for venin. Not how to kill them like the general in her should be asking , no. She asks for a cure. This makes me think that it’s personal. I believe that her husband got turned venin somehow and she was desperate for a cure. They didn’t find any. This would explain why he taught Violet all about them with the Fables and how nobody else had that book. I think the book was found in a research attempt to cure him but it was no good so he gave it to Violet. To add onto this I thought about Violets dad being Sage , it could work and would be a good twist but I don’t know if it’ll go that way in the next book.

What I think is going to happen to Xaden is that he will eventually be cured , I’m thinking him and Violet argue for a few pages and then he breaks up with her to protect her from him maybe , then about halfway through she’s that desperate that she finds it somehow. (I’m going to come back to how) . I also think that his and his dragons bond will weaken which will cause a lot of stress and turmoil. In the next book I also think we’ll see and appearance from Xadens Mother , she may just be Venin as well. I think this because Violet and Xaden both had the dreams , wether this was just Violet somehow in Xadens or not. Maybe both of their only parents are Venin and they want them to join them, that’s why Xaden said that they were here for him but Violet also had an encounter with one who wanted to take her to see someone important.

Oh also I think maybe Violet has some sort of immunity to Venin , I’m not saying that she does but it’s a theory. Can you be half-Venin. This would only work if her father was Venin like I said but it would also explain the silver hair.

2.Andarna and Violets signet

So , Andarna can quite obviously blend into her surroundings. She did it with the boulder and with Tairn. I think that she can do this by choice and is naturally black which is why Tairn didn’t notice. She is the seventh type of dragon , the only one of her kind. So that would mean that she would give Violet a very special and rare signet , no?.

Got a couple of theory’s on this one:

She can speak/raise the dead — this is a good one. Everyone remembers seeing Liam in those few interrogation chapters , Violet thought she was hallucinating but it would have to be a pretty strong hallucination wouldn’t it?. If she could speak to the dead it would make sense why he was there and it was at a very low point for her. A point of need. This could also be worked into a few theory’s I’ve got for the next book . Like we know she gonna try and find a cure for Xaden , it’s probably not gonna be in any of the Archives . What if the only answers are with someone long gone. Boom, she can speak to the dead.

Another one is that she can amplify signets — lots of examples for this one. Do u remember when Mira said that she couldn’t shield this far from the wards but when Violet needed her to, she could. Also when Rhi pulled Violets dagger through the wall when Varrish was searching her and she’d never been able to do that before but when it was going to get Violet killed , she could. There was another example that I remember thinking about including Ridoc and an Ice wall that he made against Dragon fire but I can’t remember exactly what happens all I know is that as a second year he wouldn’t have ever been able to do that. It would make sense for this to be her second signet because I swear I read somewhere that the author said that her signet is in the book.

Now this one is my favourite but the least likely—she has more than one second signet. I’ve heard someone say this so I thought I would add it in, I didn’t come up with this so I have no idea how it would work but I thought it was pretty cool. With Andarna being able to be multicoloured , basically anything she chooses to be it was said that Violet could do this too. Although I do think if this was right the two powers that I said should surely be in there. I also read somewhere that in an extra chapter to fourth wing Xaden talks of Violets eyes changing colours, which really kind of backs this up. I don’t know if that’s true cause I haven’t read the extra chapter but lmk.

Right I think that’s it.

In the next book we’re probably going to get sone answers, some fights between Xaden and Violet , more death and definitely more pain.

If yous have anymore suggestions I’d love to hear them I’m a stickler for a good fan theory.

Thanks I guess.

#fourth wing #iron flame #xaden riorson #violet and xaden #violet and tairn #violet sorrengail #the empyrean #rebecca yarros #rhiannon matthias #ridoc #sawyer #books #fantasy books #tairn and andarna #andarna #tairn #xaden and sgaeyl #sgaeyl

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levmada · 4 months

Note

hello! how are you? hope life's going well for you!

I have a little question.

so, as we all know, there has been a lot of speculation on whether Levi's a virgin or not.

and I've read your personality analysis of Levi (which, omg, bless you, I love) and his mental issues etc...

but here's my question, according to your analysis and your opinion, do you think he is a virgin or not?

also, there's that part where he says that he was "popular enough" with women...what do you think he meant by that? idk why, but I believe he meant...maybe (perhaps (perhaps)) he meant how closely knitted he was with Isabel and *maybe* petra?

and thank you to all the contribution you have made to us levussy worshippers 🫡

and by the way! I love your account!<3

hiii :D that’s so sweet😭😭😭🫶thank u for reading :’)) i’m also happy to answer this lol.

i’ll start with that dialogue!

the “popular with women” bit of dialogue isn’t quite translated correctly into english. it’s more like, when it has to do with men and women, the implication Zeke makes is romantic. the limits of the language - and probably whoever's in charge of PR - default romance to men and women. women isn't the literal term in the japanese dialogue.

but the question is attraction and not general popularity.

while you could argue that the implications of the conversation matter the most - so Levi (self-proclaimed) was popular in the romance scene - you must also consider that Levi had to say he was popular enough, or else he would be proving Zeke’s accusation right in that Levi doesn’t know other people’s feelings.

(although, he is popular to people behind the walls, but i’m getting off topic.)

proof of all that bc my summary is bad🫶

if Levi did seriously answer Zeke in that moment, just knowing Levi and his avoidance of relationships, especially romantic ones as far as is shown in AOT, he would’ve likely answered generally because he could, instead of feeding into Zeke’s attempt to fluster him lol. and of course he could've lied, again, so that Zeke couldn't get the satisfaction of being right or flustering him.

any way you cut it, i don’t think he had anyone in mind.

😅just to get it out of the way for those who don’t know i guess cuz it’s a popular piece of trivia, isayama has never confirmed whether Levi is a virgin.

sex is innately intimate. no matter if you’re just seeking momentary pleasure - which Levi doesn’t seem like the type to do - it’s both intimate and exposing. Levi just wouldn’t engage in casual sex.

especially in the underground and the negative associations he has with sex, mostly as it has to do with pain and suffering - very, very most likely, at least, and supported by what we’ve seen of the bad boy manga so far when some attackers threatened him as a child to make him “do what his mother did”. and Levi would never run the risk for disease.

(also assuming condoms exist.)

like i talked about in that analysis, trauma, in this case being exposed to sex at a young age, doesn’t simply go away, and also it exacerbates other things like distrust and an unwillingness to be vulnerable in romantic relationships.

so if it were to be someone, it would have to be someone Levi has a close bond with and trusts implicitly. someone who’s a Scout, then, but you also have to consider that romance just comes second on principle - at least to Levi whose top priority is always his duty.

his most selfish act after joining, this also being a show of affection, was letting Erwin rest (from his perspective), instead of forcing him back into hell.

so i mean - REALISTICALLY, IMO - for Levi it’s really not as simple as candlelit dinners and long walks on the beach ykwim?? there would be no love confession, only his actions which communicate his devotion or saying “”simple”” terms like “I trust you” or “I need for you not to die on me.”

sorry i’m getting so off topic.

ANYWAY. in my opinion, based on what info is allotted in canon, to me he is a virgin : )

#fanfiction aside #levi ackerman #levi aot #snk levi #snk levi ackerman #levi ackerman aot #snk hc #levi ackerman hc #aot meta

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andkisses · 11 months

Text

♡ it's a promise | sunghoon ♡

sunghoon has been your friend for the longest time, and he gets you–which is why you fell in love. and you’ve been sending out feelers to see if he, well, feels the same. and now it’s time you found out.

♡ sunghoon x gn!reader | wc. 1.2k ♡ genres/tropes: banter, confessions (?), fluff, friends to lovers ♡ mentions of/warnings: pet names (u call him pretty boy) ♡ a/n: this was originally something i wrote for hyunjae from the boyz but i for the life of me cannot remember if i posted it or not </3 this is also a revamp rather than a repost because ended up writing some more for it ^^ ♡ masterlist ♡

The moon hangs high against a curtain of glassy stars, casting soft electric light through the small kitchen window. It’s hard to play without any light, but he refuses to turn on the overhead. You watch as he deliberately stares at the other side of the board, deep in thought. With a heavy, exaggerated sigh, Sunghoon leans back, eyeing you over top of the Battleship board. “E4.”

You fake a giant frown. Then, you offer a small tut-tut, shaking your head as you pick up a white piece to taunt him. “Miss.”

Sunghoon sighs again dramatically, rolling his eyes and slouching in his chair. “Why do I invite you over if all you ever do is make me lose?”

“I’m sorry?” you laugh, relishing in how well you’re playing and how bad he’s doing. “You lose all on your own, pretty boy.”

There’s a slip in his façade as he offers you a small laugh before going back to staring at the board. “Go on.”

Sunghoon’s apartment is small—a kitchen, a bedroom, a bath, and a room that’s somehow meant for dining and living but is not large enough to fit the appropriate furniture for both uses. It’s crowded and cramped, but feels so much like Sunghoon you can’t imagine him living anywhere else. There are his favorite albums on the wall, a stand of plants in the corner. Elements of brushed gold whenever they can be—pots, trays, the hooks on the wall for his keys. It’s cozy, even if you’re just sitting at his tiny two-person kitchen table playing what appears to be an ancient copy of Battleship.

“C8,” you say, and laugh when Sunghoon smiles again, waving around a white piece of his own in similar fashion. You take it from him, fingertips brushing his own. A spark, surely. “See, if I was the one making you lose, I would have hit that time.”

“Y/N, you’ve already sunk three of my battleships,” he says.

He’s good at hiding, but you’ve known Sunghoon long enough, been his friend, to see when his armor cracks. When your compliments affect him more than they should, more than just friends. When the names you choose to call him sink into his skin and stay there. Ever since you realized your feelings, you’d been testing to see if he felt the same way back. You like to believe you’re reading the signs and reactions correctly, but then again, there’s no better way than asking. Being upfront, being honest.

But could you really ask?

As brave as you feel, as confident as you are, it’s your best friend you’re talking about. Wouldn’t asking if he likes you—like-likes you? Like, for real—make things between the two of you weird if he didn’t feel the same way?

But there’s no way he doesn’t feel the same way. Surely friends don’t always invite the other over, pay for their food, help them cope when work is stressful. Sure, maybe friends do that, but a single friend? Doing everything? All the time?

Lost in your thoughts, you’re oblivious to the boy across from you, even if he is the subject of your worry, Sunghoon has slowly leaned forward, just enough to see around the board and locate your ships. “Hey, not fair!” you say, reaching forward to bat him away with your hands. “That’s cheating!”

“No, it’s not! You were thinking so hard you were on another planet, what else was I to do?” he argues, reaching to hold your hands in his to stop you.

You stand up, trying to see Sunghoon’s side of the board, trying to see if you’ve done more damage to him and can still win, even if he knows exactly where your boats are. Sunghoon stands too, lacing his fingers between yours, pushing back against you, laughter on his lips. As soon as you clear the table, he’s pulling you close.

You're trapped in his arms, but you can’t help but laugh too as you curl into his touch, his warmth, and smile as you feel Sunghoon do the same. You’re still shuffling, fighting for purchase, but in the small space, you end up tumbling over the back of the couch, Sunghoon now inches away above you. Your laughter dies down, the smiles still present, stuck in this haze around you.

You see the stars from before in his eyes, a happiness you’ve only ever noticed when he’s with you, just you. He smiles wider somehow, as if he can’t believe what’s happened to him. “I have a question,” he asks.

“What?” you whisper, even though there’s no one else.

Sunghoon’s smile fades slightly, his eyes darting back and forth between yours, before returning. It’s like he’s already confident in your answer. “If I kissed you, what would happen?”

Your own smile grows, your hands anxious to pull him closer. To finish this. It would be so easy—him only just propped up by his hands on either side of your shoulders. All you would have to do is wrap your hands into the front of his shirt and pull. Your words are ones you’ve imagined saying for a while. “I think I would fall in love with you.”

He leans in, and you desperately want to touch his face, run your hands through his hair, but you feel stuck in the moment, denial small but loud enough in your head. “Is that a threat?” he asks, in a whisper so low it feels almost like a hiss, like a dare.

It breaks you from your stupor. You reach up to thread your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck and pull him closer. “It’s a promise.”

He tastes like coffee and chocolate, and his warmth is more than you could have ever imagined. His hair is soft beneath your fingers as you dig into his scalp. It feels like time has stopped and restarted all at once. You gasp when you feel Sunghoon’s arms scoop beneath you, pulling you close to him and upright. Your legs are a tangled mess, half in his lap half off the couch. Sunghoon moves away first, and if you weren’t so damn content you’d frown at the absence of him.

His hands come up to cup your face, bringing warmth up your neck. He stares at you, eyes wide in the moonlight. Like you’re a dream come true. And maybe you are, because you’re certain you’ve dreamt this exact moment yourself, so what’s to say he hasn’t either?

“Does this mean you’re my boyfriend now?” you ask, leaning forward to chase after his lips. And he lets you, pulling you closer. Your nose bumps into his and your teeth clack against his but you don’t care. One hand leaves the side of your head to roam down your back, splay large against your ribs. His warmth is everywhere, intoxicating. Your hands, which had found purchase gripping the front of his shirt, are back in his hair, nape of his neck. You savor how he shivers beneath your touch.

But then, his lps leave yours and start a trail down your jaw, making you shiver and laugh all at once. What a unique feeling–warm and ticklish and absolutely divine. Sunghoon stops himself when he gets to the corner of your jaw, just below your ear, and places one more kiss on your lips. You get everything you ever read about being breathless after kisses. When he pulls back, he rests his forehead on yours, eyes shut, with the happiest smile.

His hands flutter down to lace themselves in yours. “I would do everything for you,” he whispers. He opens his eyes and looks at you, and you feel it in your core that he’s telling the truth. “Anything. Everything.”

#kdiarynet #kwritersworld #kflixnet #k-labels #sunghoon fluff #enhypen fluff #enhypen #sunghoon #prose #fluff #all

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zcorners120 · 2 years

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cheat. - charles drabble

S M U T; 18+ MASTER LIST

synopsis; you and max are happy, you told yourself over and over. but you couldn’t help but not believe yourself when a certain man in red made you doubt yourself.

warnings; implied sex, cheating, lying, bruises, hickys, spanking, toxic!max, arguing, physical abuse.

Max won. He won the race, you should be ecstatic. But you weren’t, you were hurt and upset. He understandably went out to celebrate with his team and with his friends, you assumed you were invited, but he made his opinion clear.

“No, you weren’t important to my win, why should you celebrate?” He said, bitterly. Looking you in the eyes as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“What are you talking about? I constantly support you, even when you blow me off for emergency meetings. I always put you and your career first.” You spat back, offended he could say such things.

“Look, you’d truly be supporting me if you weren’t blowing half the guys in the championship. If you think any part of this win was helped by you, you’re out of your mind.” He says, tugging his jacket on and not looking at you.

“You’re fucking delusional Max, you seriously think Im blowing your competitors? You have some serious insecurity issues.” You rushed, his words hurt like salt to an open wound.

He stayed silent for a second, before getting up and walking closer to you, and backing you up against the wall. You felt the room closing in on you, knowing you shouldn’t of have run your mouth.

“Look, Y/N. You can either admit that you don’t help me with shit and know your place, or I can put you in your place myself.” He said, his face tingeing red as his hand raises to slap you directly across the face.

His hand was big, and rough and stung like a mother fucker. You gulped, and didn’t dare look up at him.

“That’s what I thought. I’m going, and don’t dare tell anyone.” He said, walking away and slamming the door behind him.

You sank to the floor, wondering how you got yourself in such a bad place. You loved Max, but the more he did this, the more you thought you had to leave.

Sometimes the people you love most, don’t turn around out to be the people you thought they are.

You needed a drink, desperately. You had the thought to go out, in a bar far from where Max was partying.

Getting up and sitting at your vanity, you saw the red splotch smeared on your face, a constant remind of him.

Patting on green colour corrector, an almost never ending cycle.

Apply, rub, smear, reapply and retouch later on in the day.

Finally masking your dark private life, you slipped on a plain black dress, with two strings tying at the back of your neck. With some black heels, and fluffing your hair up, you looked like a supermodel.

Your heels clacked against the tarmac, walking up to your mercedes’, which you had bought before meeting Max.

You drove to a well known exclusive club, dropping the keys to the valet, and whispering an incoherent thanks.

You strutted past the bouncers, them knowing not to bother you. Walking straight to the VIP section, and making a beeline to the bartender.

“Double vodka raspberry, thanks.” You quietly said, hoping the bartender doesn’t see through to your desperation. “And a shot of tequila.” You added, knowing you’ll need more to merely get you through the next couple days.

“Make that two shots.” A voice spoke out from behind you, dark and sudden.

You turn around, your hair falling behind you as you see Charles behind you. He sits on the stool next to you, and looks at you in the eyes, something mysterious behind them.

“Why are you not with Max?” He questions, his accent fading in and out.

“Uhm, I just think he wanted to celebrate with the team.” You said, looking away. As you finished the sentence, your drinks had arrived.

You both simultaneously neck your shots, looking at each other after downing the liquid, burning your throat.

He lifted his hand to your face, you moving away from instinct, but he persists and holds your chin.

“Mon Ange, why do you let him treat you like this? You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever laid eyes on, and you stay with him?” He pleads, as a million thoughts race your mind.

“It’s complicated, and isn’t your place to say such things Charles.” You retorted, half laughing that he thought he could say such things.

Your laughter soon stopped, as you felt his large hand, sliding up your thigh and under your dress, resting there as a form of comfort.

“I know how you look at me in the paddock, and you know I see you, who doesn’t? You know I could treat you better.” He said smugly, seeing the effect he had on you.

You couldn’t deny his words, because he was absolutely right. His dark fluffy hair, face adorned with little freckles, and his emerald eyes.

“Charles, we can’t do this.” You said bluntly, sipping on your drink as you look around for any cameras.

“Give me one night, and if I don’t make you feel better in a couple hours than Max could in a year, I’ll leave you be. You will be my princesse, and will be treated right.” He claimed, smoothing his tie on his ruffled shirt with his free hand.

“Private room number 16, Leclerc.” You say, walking off to the room, feeling his glare on your ass.

Walking to the room, you understood the consequences that came with this, but you were upset, vengeful, and petty.

You took your dress off, and threw your heels into a random corner. Laying on the bed, you laid on your stomach, ass in the air, showing off your red lingerie.

You bit your lip in anticipation, hearing the door open, and the lock click.

“Now, now Y/N. I’ve been waiting a long time for this, for you to be treated and respected by a real man.” He lowly says, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth.

“Mhm, please touch me, please.” You whined out, ready for him, but you were not ready in the slightest when you felt a huge smack behind you.

He spanked your ass, taking you by complete surprise and satisfaction. You slightly moaned, feeling the tickling and burning sensation.

“Mon Cherié likes her ass getting smacked? Well then we’re going to have a wonderful time.” He speaks out, sounding proud of you, doing a slight wolf whistle.

“Max never did anything like this.. Not even close.” You said, awaiting the next delicious smack from his big hand.

“Yeah? It’s good you’ve got me then. I have a feeling that you knew you’d meet me tonight, you’re even wearing red for me.” He says smirking, as you start laughing.

“That’s pretty bold of you to assume.” You scoff, not letting his ego fly past his head.

He also starts to laugh, before he stops and lands another hard smack on your other ass cheek.

“You may get sassy with Max, but Im not him. So if I were you, I’d get ready.” You gulped, hearing a belt buckle underdo, and drop to the floor, and hearing a zipper fly next.

The next thing you know is you’re getting filled deep from behind, as his thick cock delves deeper and deeper into your small hole.

“Oh fuck-” You both simultaneously moan out, as he pulls his length out to the tip, and slams back into you.

He sets a slow, excruciating pace as his long cock fucks you, it was incomparable to Max’s.

“Harder..” You barely get out, as you feel him stop behind you.

“My girl wants it harder? No problem.” He says, abruptly pulling you up as he gets on the bed, shoving you on top of him.

With having no time to react to the action, you feel his hips slam up against your thighs, his balls slapping against your ass.

You choke out intense moans, as his grip on your waist tightens. He impressively keeps the pace up, absolutely demolishing your pussy.

He leans you forward, and sucks hickys under your boobs, biting slightly. But you didn’t care, being in such euphoria, you were cock drunk on Charles.

His fast thrusts ripple against your ass, with him whispering sweet nothings in french as he sucks in various places.

“Oh Cherié, fuck, lean forward like that.” He lustily says, as he feels you approaching your high.

You let go, clenching your eyes shut as your legs start to tremble uncontrollably.

This only turns Charles on more, that he’s made his biggest enemy’s girlfriend cum on his dick.

The rest of the night is a blur, as you two become feral for each other.

Waking up in an unfamiliar bed, you walk up to a grand mirror in the room, completely naked with hickies under your boobs showing the number 16.

You look at yourself in disbelief, wondering how on earth you were going to go out in public.

As you look at yourself, you see a familiar Monegasque man walking out of a bathroom, with a towel wrapped around his waist, smirking directly at you.

A/N ; i tried not to focus on the angsty part of it, and steered more towards smut? hoping that it came out alright D:

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