#i forgot how to use my usual brush so uh
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i love her
#bsd#bungou stray dogs#bsd lucy#lucy maud montgomery#art tag#i forgot how to use my usual brush so uh#this was an experiment i guess
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SIMP
SUMMARY: men are liars. especially, jake sim, some guy you met once at a party and now only know through text messages. he makes promises he can’t keep but it’s mostly because he likes to hide that he’s more desperate than you are to get his dick wet.
jake sim x afab reader
MDNI!
WC: 5.6k
GENRE: smut, kinda subby!jake
TAGS: desperate jake, he’s experienced with sex just really bad at not being pussy drunk, reader has fun anyway and pokes fun at how he talked big game and couldn’t live up to it.
A/N: i know, i know. i’m supposed to be writing a different jake fic but this happened. this is a gift for my other monster cock loser jake lovers. not proof read
NSFW TAGS: he is packing a huge cock, nipple play, finger fucking, pussy eating, he gets compared to a dog/puppy a few times, dirty talk, jake gets desperate enough mid-way though and does fuck her really good, unprotected sex, cream pie, lots and lots and lots of cum.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
Six times the man known as Jake Sim rendered you sore the next morning using nothing but pixel words on your phone screen. Six times over the span of two weeks.
You met him at a party, and he was both the first and the last man you spoke to that night. You should have caught on back then why he didn’t bring you home with him and only offered you his number with a wink and a shit-eating grin.
Now, as you see him in front of you again, this time in your apartment, you can see exactly why he didn’t bring you home. His facade would have been broken and you never would have been able to see the dirty little texts he’s able to send when he doesn’t have you looking him in the eye.
“Didn’t you say you were going to have me against every surface in my apartment the second you get here?” You question, twenty minutes into him being over and not once making a move on you.
He looks much more awkward compared to the tipsy man you originally met, still his dyed blond hair looks just as messy though. His fashion is still on par with the attitude you’d seen him throw at you too but, this version of him is throwing you for a loop. His lack of response leads you to believe that he must have lost interest in the span of time he’s been over.
“It’s not like I don’t want to,” Jake finally responds, brushing his fingers through his hair as he sits stiffly next to you on your bed, fully clothed. “Usually I don’t actually come see the girls I text.”
You shuffle next to him, turning with an eyebrow raised at him.
“So you’re not going to, then?”
Jake looks at you dumbfounded, shaking his head as if to pity himself before nodding quickly.
“I’d like to,” he argues, fiddling with his hands and avoiding your eyes now. “I just, um…”
You wait, allowing the silence to take hold of the room.
“I’m a little more uh–” He fidgets and fumbles his words again. “Listen, I don’t want to disappoint you if I don’t live up to how we normally talk.”
“What do you mean by that?” You ask, feeling duped by the man sitting there.
“I’m actually kind of like–” He lets out a deep sigh before turning toward you with honest eyes. “You’re making me shy, okay?”
You breathe in, shocked because based on the strings upon strings of sentences he’s thrown your way via text, the last thing you’d ever consider Jake is fucking shy.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
He was right in telling you he was shy, and by now you appreciate the warning from him. It took a few minutes to get yourself back into the mood, but it happened nonetheless when he finally buckled under your gaze and kissed you.
If there was anything Jake did that he promised, it was kissing you in a way you never knew you needed. He was good at it too, so good that you nearly forgot he was supposed to have already fucked you on every surface the two of you passed to get to the very room you’re in right now.
Kind of strange actually, that he seems so different compared to his fantasies with girls he never thinks he will actually see again. So cocky in his text messages, saying he will ruin you, asking if you’d choke on his dick, saying he would love to see you struggle under him. Now though, that very man is struggling to keep his hands to himself despite admitting that he’s shy.
You chuckle into the kiss, feeling his hands reach for you with the sound of rustling clothing against your duvet. You let him chase as you slide lower, lower, lower, until your head is against your pillow and he’s practically hovering over you to keep kissing.
This is what you wanted. Jake over you, dominating a kiss and roaming his hands up and down your body.
“Shy?” You question between kisses, trailing your hand down to meet where his was, snaking under your shirt. “You seem to know exactly what you want.”
Jake’s eyes are empty as he looks at you, the cold feeling of his fingertips do not stop though. He continues to trail them upward until they meet the flesh of your chest, where you skipped the bra because you expected it to be a nuisance if anything tonight.
You’re shocked by his slight groan at the feeling of your already erect nipples. His groan seemed like it came out of relief, your body showing signs of being turned on despite his reluctance that was never promised to you.
“If you were like this over text, I still would have liked you, you know.” You admit to him with a sigh as he trails his lips down to your jaw, and you reach for his waist to pull him further on top of you. “You’re cute still, even if you’re not about to make me cry like you said you would.”
His cock twitches at that, wishing so much that he could live up to those dirty thoughts in his head and just fucking do it. But he can’t, because his body doesn’t work like that. If he were to do all of those things to you right now, he would surely come within the span of fifteen seconds and make this the worst fuck of your life. He’s too desperate to have control, and far too timid to even pull his cock out right now.
“It’s embarrassing,” he whispers against your earlobe, trailing kisses there too until he gets to the collar of your shirt. “I want to do those things to you, but I don’t think I’d be able to last if–”
He’s cut off by you shoving him up and pulling your shirt off in one go, trying to get to business much quicker now that he appears to at least be turned on. (Wrong, he’s been turned on since before he even got here.)
Jake trails off his sentence, forgetting what he was even going to say as the flesh of your breast sits comfortably in one of his hands and the other springs free. His cock twitches again as he stares, practically burning a hole through you as he looks, mouth slowly opening in a sigh at the image.
You see him malfunction and wonder if maybe, maybe, this could be even better than what you originally were expecting. Such a rough looking man with messy hair and even rougher fingers acting like this at the mere sight of some titties? Sign you the fuck up.
“God, look at you.” You groan with a smile, chuckling at the way he appears to blush. “You talk such big game but…”
“Yeah, yeah.” Jake shakes it off, releasing his hand from your chest and now removing his own shirt and revealing a nice, toned body for you to look at. “It’s not my fault you make me act this way.”
“Oh? Just me, or?”
Jake nods, then shakes his head.
“Not entirely, I’m just better at fucking over text.” He explains, now settling one leg between yours and dipping his head down to your chest, nuzzling against one of your tits and grabbing the other. “Doesn’t change the fact that I still want to fuck you right now though.”
You feel those words run through you, his soft voice coming out raspy and needy when he says it.
“You’re a weird one,” You laugh, gripping his hair and bucking your hips up to straddle his thigh. “and I still want you fuck me, even if it’s not the way you said you would.”
He licks against your chest now, sucking one of your nipples into his mouth as he focuses on the feeling of you riding against his thigh. He’s thankful you still act desperate, at least you weren’t lying when you talked to him through texts.
“I’ll still make you feel good.” He whispers in a slight plea against your nipple, moving his head to the other and suckling against that one next. “Just let me try.”
God, you didn’t expect those four little words to hit you the way they do. A man asking you to let him try? Jake Sim at that? Sure, by now it should be expected but this is a different kind of heat flowing through you. Never have you been given control, and never have you felt the need to ride a man’s thigh like this.
“Jake,” You start, a little out of breath as you move your hips against him to the point that clothing becomes far more annoying than not. “Can we please take our clothes off before anything else?”
He pauses against your nipple, nodding before suckling again and then finally pulling away.
“You first.” He says, not yet wanting to pull his thigh from the way you move against it.
You look up at him, his lips glistening from his own saliva coating your chest.
“Why? Are you lying about your massive cock too?”
Jake looks down at the bulge between his legs and then back at you. Your eyes followed him to his cock, and they remained there.
“Oh.” You smile, now having the ability to pull yourself from his thigh and pull your shorts off at record speed. “Show me.”
Jake lets out a breathy and nervous chuckle, his ears flashing a darker shade of red than before as he nods to you in a timid way. You watch his hands go for the button and zipper, and you watch them further as they lower his pants to his knees before he kicks them away behind him. Now, all that’s left is looking at the already dampened spot on his briefs and the huge length stuffed beneath, clearly needing some relief.
He still looks away from you, not yet moving to take off his briefs until you feel his hands pull at your panties.
“Can I see now too?” He asks, already pulling them to the side and catching a glimpse of your folds. He shudders visibly at it before letting your panties snap back into place and all you can do is stare, still, between his legs.
“Take them off.” You deadpan.
He’s unsure if you’re implying he take his off, or yours, so he shoots for what he would prefer, gripping your panties and rolling them off of you.
“Take. them. off.” You say, ignoring the fact that you’re entirely vulnerable before him, yet feel safe and comfortable because of how timid yet eager he appears to be.
He fumbles to follow your direction, quickly kicking off his briefs and positioning himself between your legs again, sitting on his knees.
Your eyes don’t leave his exposed cock. Thick and heavy. He truly wasn’t lying about that at least, and you can imagine that regardless of how shy he is, he definitely could make good on his word with a cock like that.
“Oh, fuck.” You comment, lifting on your elbows and sitting up. Your face is now mere inches from his, but your eyes continue to stare down.
He puts a hand over himself shyly, wondering if maybe you’re not impressed, maybe he’s a complete fraud.
“Are you disappointed?” He asks, leaning a bit back and away from you.
“Disappointed?” You laugh, looking back up at him and instantly grabbing his face, staring directly into his eyes. “Jake, you’re bigger than what you described it as.”
He smiles a bit, feeling all fuzzy and warm inside as you look at him. His confidence bubbles up, giving him every ability in the world at this moment, and what does he do with it? He looks between the two of you as he drops his cock and watches it land between your legs, and then he looks back at you before dipping in for a much less timid kiss.
Feeling his cock rest between your legs is one thing, but feeling how his tongue kisses into your mouth at a more eager pace than before is an entirely different thing. You’re loving it, despite the turn of events with him.
“Not so shy now, hm?” You laugh, tilting your head before dipping back in to kiss him only to be met with a sigh of chuckles from him.
“If you keep complimenting me, maybe someday I can live up to all those promises,” He says, putting a hand at the nape of your neck and laying you back down. “Then again, I don’t expect to last nearly as long with how wet you seem to have gotten.”
You hum against his words, hands reaching between your body and his to grab his length and hold it, just to feel the weight, just to see how much of it you can fit into one hand…just to see if–
He groans at the first touch, his body shivering against yours as he trails his lips down again, landing against your neck with a small pant when his hips buck into your palm.
“I can’t believe that this whole time, this is how you react to having your dick touched.”
He says nothing and instead, continues to fall into the feeling of the short tugs against his cock, barely stimulating his entire length but still feeling like it’s enough to keep him pleased for the time being.
“Wanna, maybe, I don’t know–” You playfully start, tugging his cock a bit harder this time after collecting some of the pre-cum from the head, “Touch me too?”
Say no more, Jake’s fingers are instantly at your entrance as soon as you say it, sliding in so easily that it nearly makes you forget that you even told him to do it. His fingers are slender, and each joint on the digits are felt against your aching and gripping walls.
“I can’t believe how wet you are,” he coos, bottoming his two fingers out before gently beginning to thrust them in. “Were you like this when we texted too?”
“Wetter.” You lie, mostly because you were extremely wet from his texts but this…this is entirely different. You’re far more wet.
“Oh?” Jake asks, looking slightly disappointed but you can feel the way he changes how he moves his fingers. He also stops rutting against your hand, as if to put all of his focus on making you as wet as possible.
You moan for him at the feeling, his fingers tickling a spot inside of you that always has you seeing stars. Part of you wonders if he even knows he’s doing it, but you don’t press him, instead, you reward him with a tighter grip, pumping his cock until you can feel more beads of pre-cum slathering your fingertips.
“You need to be more confident, fuck–” You call out in a half moan, unprepared for the Jake that showed up but completely prepared to praise the hell out of what he’s doing. “This alone could have anyone on their knees.”
He smiles, furrowing his brow as he looks up at you, fingers picking up pace and starting to scissor you open.
“Can I taste you?” He asks out of fucking nowhere, and god.
“Jesus, Yes.” You groan, feeling him pound his fingers into you three more times before sliding out and pulling away from you.
You close your eyes, anticipating what it must be like to have him eat your pussy, and fuck, he wasn’t lying about that either. You remember that text from him, when he said “i’ll lick up every inch of your pussy babe, you wouldn’t even have to ask.”
The fact that you didn’t ask him to do it. The fact that he’s down there right now, already spreading you open on his tongue and licking every sensitive dip and corner he can reach. You’re just more and more pleased with this shy man that showed up on your doorstep.
His tongue is warm and firm no matter where he licks, and only softens up when he goes to lick a flat stripe up your slit, essentially sucking up all of the wet you’re offering him and savoring it through whimpered groans at the way your legs attempt to squeeze around his head.
He knew you’d taste good but this is on a whole other level. He can’t help it when he grips your thighs and spreads your legs out further, and he certainly can’t help himself when he prods his tongue into you, trying to taste more of what you have to offer.
You can feel his tongue dipping in, and the way he grips your thighs renders you nearly useless if you were to try and wiggle away, not that you’d ever want to but it almost tickles with how good it feels. Your legs begin to shake in his grasp, and he only spreads them further at that, tilting his head at an angle to lick into you even deeper.
“Holy shit,” You sigh out, reaching down frantically to hold his head in place so that you can grind your hips forward against his stiffened tongue.
He’s nearly going insane the moment you do that, riding his tongue and gripping his hair so harshly. If he could die like this, it would only be a dream.
Jake hums into you with his lips curling up at each drag of your hips, each taste of your walls, up until you’re grinding so aggressively that his tongue is back to hitting your clit for a split second before dipping in. He lets you do it, loving the way you use his face like a toy but, he’s starting to feel desperate for you.
In this position with his arms hugging your thighs and back arched as he dips down to lick you, his cock is fucking aching and all he can do is fuck forward. There is nothing for him to pleasure himself with, but this suffices for him as the act of humping forward alone is enough to satiate his intense need to fuck something right now.
Like a dog, humping just to release his intense arousal as he holds onto you. He should be embarrassed, but he knows you can’t see him do it. Especially when he flicks his eyes up and sees your tits jiggling with each move of your hips. Especially when you open your own eyes and they land only on his face. He’d like to think he’s doing a hell of a job right now, especially with how no matter how much he licks, you continue to drip for him.
As you continue to ride yourself against his face, you suddenly feel his fingers squeezing against your thighs and his head abandon where you guide him. Wanting to taste you still, he neglects your riding hips and plants his lips at your clit, sucking and flicking his tongue until your grip in his hair grows more and more painful and you pull him back to look at him.
His eyes are dazed and his lips are glistening in a swollen and cheeky little smile. He stares back at you, licking his puffy bottom lip before letting his eyes roll at the feeling of that grip you have in your hair.
“Fuck, you’re loving this aren’t you?” You ask, now trailing your eyes down to his body and noting the way he’s desperately chasing nothing with his cock. You know he wants it, and god, are you going to let him have it.
He grins when you ask him, and he nods proudly at how your arousal coats his mouth and chin. He can smell the entirety of you on his face and it truly does feel amazing to him. Like he’s spiraling into a world of bliss simply for getting to lick your pussy.
You can barely contain yourself as you watch him. It’s like you’ve lost him completely from reality with the way he’s smiling, and the way his eyes remain drowsy and hooded. You could argue that the man acts cross-faded, but the fact that he acts like this over your pussy?
“I bet if I asked you to fuck me right now, you’d beg like a little puppy, wouldn’t you?”
His groan is long and drawn out with his slow nod, his hips fucking forward instinctively when his eyes trail down and sees that your pussy is practically pulsing.
“Do you want me to beg?” He says in a shaky voice, his chest heaving as his grip on your thighs grow tighter and you drag him back up to your face.
There, the two of you look at each other for a brief moment before you feel him fuck forward again, sliding his cock against your drenched core and letting out another pained whimper.
“You’re so wet, please.” He cries against your lips as he drops his face lower.
Your arms shoot around him, feeling his back muscles tense with each intentional thrust against you. The weight of his cock is sliding consistently up and down your pussy, bumping your clit and overstimulating it to the point that all you’d need to do is tense your muscles and you’d be releasing.
He said please, and you can argue that he’d probably do a flip if you so much as asked him to right now. As much as you wanted to choke on his dick, at this point you’d rather feel what it’s like to have him losing control inside of you. You want to know how he uses it, and you’re already well aware that he very well may make you lose grasp on reality.
Even now, you can feel his slack lips moving up and down against your own as he continues to hump against you. You can feel his breath on your tongue when you try to see if he’s too lost to even kiss you. And that, he was.
“Go on,” You encourage him, running one hand down his arm and the other up to his hair to grip it again. There, you pull his head back, watching his neck crane and eyebrows furrow in a wince at the feeling. “Fuck me then.”
His unintentional moan comes out strained with the way you have his head pulled back, but he moves one arm to one side of your head and the other straight to his cock, where all he needs to do is press it down and hold it there. As he continues fucking against you, that small motion lets him slide in with ease.
You can feel his arm beside your head shake at the feeling of his length spreading you open. You can see the way he swallows thickly at the feeling, moaning out and staring at your ceiling as he feels your walls slowly hug his entire length.
He enters you slowly so that he can feel his sock squeeze your wet out of you, feeling it run down his balls. He shivers at the feeling and the sound of it, and you shiver at how deep he manages to slide in.
It’s so deep. His thick cock aches inside of you and with the way your walls squeeze him, and even when he tightly fucks forward once again once he’s already bottomed out, he manages to fill you just just that much more.
You groan out, releasing his hair from your shaking fingers and feeling his lips immediately kiss against your jaw and neck.
“Fuck, fuck.” He whimpers, relieving you of an inch of him before sliding back in slowly. “Fuck, you feel so tight.” He continues, moving a hand down to your thigh and swirling his fingertips there to try and calm your shaking legs.
You can’t really comprehend anything other than the fact that this man is so fucking hot, and the way he slowly moves his hips just to feel each and every clench of your pussy has you seeing stars. You feel like he’s filled you up beyond belief, and each thrust somehow makes his cock feel heavier, bigger.
Even as he babbles against your neck, his other hand falls to your tit and he can’t help but mindlessly play with it as he begins to actually fall into a rhythm. You’re still rendered completely speechless as you focus on every single touch he gives to you.
Those gentle, soothing circles of his fingertips on your leg, the other hand harshly pinching your nipple and sending a sharp pain down your body, his cock being driven in, somehow, deeper and deeper as he continuously manages to hit your g-spot and– god, the way his lips slowly trail down to your other tit, biting you there.
“So tight, so good.” He babbles on, slamming his cock into you once before lifting from your breast to see your reaction.
When he looks up at you, a permanent shit-eating grin is planted on his face with the way you roll your eyes back in a silent moan. Perhaps he wasn’t so much of a liar in those texts. Seeing you react this way has his confidence skyrocketing as he continues to keep that pace. The sound of your pussy being pounded and dripping all over him. He can’t even believe how wet you are, how tight you are still.
He stays like this, staring at each reaction and silent moan as he focuses solely on fucking you as hard and deep as possible. He may not be fast, but he’s making sure you can feel every goddamn inch he has to offer, and it appears that you’re relishing in it.
Those silent moans you try to release always end in a small hiccup each time his hips meet your inner thighs, and it’s not long before you’re losing grasp all together. You shoot your hands to his arms, gripping his biceps as your only link to reality as you feel him continuously bump the back of your pussy in an immaculate show of how well he knows how to fuck.
“Jake,” You hiccup out, gripping his biceps harder as you clench around him.
Still, his cock drags through your attempts of speaking, and he continues to stare at you with a grin before hovering his lips over yours.
“What is it?” He whispers in a shaky breath, sucking in his bottom lip and only now picking up the pace so that he can render you speechless again.
You can feel his lips ghosting over yours, and you really thought you had something to say but the only thing that comes out is a sobbed out moan. You throw your legs around his waist now, moving your own hips to meet his and that alone has him spiraling again.
“Yeah,” He chuckles, dipping his head to your neck and resting it there, “Fuck me,” he whimpers this time, stilling his hips to feel the way you slide him in and out of you.
Still, your strength amazes him. He thought he had control for a few minutes there and yet here he is, acting much like you are with his trembling hands and trembling thoughts.
You continue to work your hips from under him, and you don’t even know when he stopped playing with your nipple but it doesn’t entirely matter. Not now, not when you need more of him.
He’s thrown off when you grab his hair again, and he still loves it as much as he did the first two times you did it to him. Then, he can hear your raspy voice whisper out to him as you drag his face, once again, to yours.
“Lay back.”
That’s all you had to say to have him immediately listening and maneuvering his body in a way that keeps his cock buried deep but still managing to throw himself back on the bed for you to take full control.
Now, he looks up at you and the way your darkened eyes devour him. He’s so fucking turned on right now that he thinks he might cry, especially with the way your knees hug his hips as you immediately start fucking yourself on him.
He’s in awe, hands reaching behind you to grab at your ass and spread it as you bounce on him. Each time you sit yourself down, it’s like you’re being impaled in the most pleasurable way possible. The way he keeps eye contact with you is intense and dangerously intimate, but you can’t bring yourself to look away either.
That smile forms back on his lips as you pick up your pace, and through that smile are moans so erotic you can feel your pussy drench him over and over again each time he does it. Never, have you had sex so fucking good in your life and it’s making you feel almost helpless as you work yourself up to an orgasm.
He still watches you though, before flicking his eyes down and taking in the image of your bouncing tits. He’s quick to remove his hands from your ass to fondle them before sitting himself up aggressively and sucking one into his mouth.
You moan out at that, stilling your bouncing as you opt now to sit with his cock entirely inside of you. You swirl your hips and plant your fingers in his hair, hugging his head as he sucks and bites a swollen spot against your chest before he holds you in an even tighter hug.
“I’m so, so close.” He says in a broken sigh, trying to move his hips up under your weight and failing to do it. You listen to his cries though, and resume your bouncing even through his harsh and suffocating hug.
“Yeah?” You ask, bouncing once, swirling your hips, and then pressing your weight on him to have him falling back into his rightful spot against your bed.
His grip around you remains, dragging you down with him as he breathes himself through the pleasure and babbles out strings of curses when you manage to still work your hips on him even though he’s gripping onto you for dear life.
“Gonna let me feel it?” You ask again, this time more playfully as you intentionally press your clit against his pelvis each time you slide him into you.
He nods brokenly, squeezing his eyes shut and loosening his grip on you, letting you break free and ultimately, intentionally fuck him until he’s pumping you full of everything he has to offer.
You watch as he lies there, seemingly lost again in the bliss of your pussy clenching around him. He barely notices your fingers circling your clit, and is shocked to realize that you’re releasing before him, despite how close he is.
He can feel your walls massage his aching cock as you begin to let out strained moans. He knows you’re coming the second he feels how tight you’re clenching, sucking his cock so deeply inside of you that he has no choice but to release.
He fucks into you as best he can at this moment, only stopping when he feels the first release inside of you, and there, he tenses his muscles and allows his stiffened length to nearly tear you in half as you continue to work through your own pleasure.
You can barely open your eyes to see his face, and the way his jaw is slack and his eyes are very nearly crossing before squeezing them shut. God, that alone could have made your orgasm last another ten seconds.
By the time you’re done, he’s still releasing somehow. The sheer amount of cum he’s spilling into you is arguably more than you’ve ever felt, and he trembles through it with whimpered apologies, begging you to stay on him, apologizing with a small “ fuck, wait, I’m still coming–”
And you do, especially through his shaking whisper of “please, take all of it.”
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
He’s back to his timid self just an hour later, lying on your bed wondering when you’re going to tell him to leave. Wondering if you like him enough to let him do this again with you, hoping you don’t erase his number.
He’s pleased to know though that, you not only ask him to sleep over but you also make it your mission to go down on him the moment he wakes up next to you. Reminding him that even if he was different upon coming over, he still fucked you better than he ever promised.
You’d be stupid not to choke on it for him.
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i’m definitely projecting BUT i genuinely feel like shy!reader would have wavy hair and be so insecure about it (even tho it’s so pretty) so it’s always straightened but i just know if rafe saw it he’d fall even deeper in love with the girl!
oh 100%. lets project together angel why not. if you dont have wavy hair pls look away im sorry. but i do have wavy hair that i straighten all the time so ! you sent this to the right bitch
your hair, though you've been told so many times was pretty either way, is usually straightened several times a week, if not daily. it's easy to fall into the trap of preferring it sleek and shiny than the waves that were pretty for the first day, frizzy the next, and somehow constantly clashing with the outfit you selected for the day.
you thought straight hair was easier, looked better, went with everything. even if it wasn't true, you had bought into it for long enough, your blowdryer and flat iron your two best friends.
the first time rafe met you, your hair had been straight. it was that way on your first date, as well as your second and third, as well as every sleepover at tannyhill or early morning drive to watch the sunrise at the beach. he'd never seen your hair any other way, not realizing there was, in fact, another way for it to be seen, until today.
you and rafe had spent the first hour of the morning rolling around in his bed at tannyhill, working up a sweat, which then was washed off in the shower together. rafe gets out first, listening to his phone ring repeatedly in the distance. you finish up, washing your hair and turning the water to the hottest setting now that rafe wasn't there to complain.
when you walk back to rafe's room, he's on the bed, still on the phone. you try to dry yourself off and get dressed without giving him too much of a show, settling for one of rafe's old frat shirts and using another shirt of his to start drying your hair. he looks at confused, but you don't say anything, knowing he's still on the phone. you need at least a minute to explain cotton t-shirts and scrunching to him.
rafe finally hangs up the call with barry while you rummage through your overnight bag, realizing your flat iron and blow dryer were left behind on your bathroom counter, a result of finishing up your hair for your date yesterday.
"is sarah home?" you ask, looking up at rafe.
"don't think so. and didn't i give you a towel? why's my shirt on your head right now?"
"i forgot my hair stuff at home."
"oh," he says, walking back to his dresser and returning with something in his hand. "here." he hands you a hairbrush.
"what am i supposed to do with this?"
"you said you needed hair stuff. uh, you're welcome."
"i have a brush, rafe. i meant my dryer and my iron. do you think sarah would be mad if i used hers? is that weird, though?"
he didn't think it was that serious, but you look more upset by the second.
"what'd you need that shit for? we're not going anywhere until lunch. it'll dry by then." you stand up, taking the hair out of his shirt and trying to salvage whatever waves remained.
"i wanted to wear it straight for the club, though. my outfit, it looks better with straight hair-"
"huh?"
"and i didn't even detangle or use that conditioner, it's all at home. ugh." you keep scrunching, going to the mirror and taking a look. rafe follows behind you, eyebrows knitted in confusion while he takes a piece of curly hair between his fingers. it's pretty, the way it falls around your face and certain pieces are curlier than others. you look pretty like this, though he's sure you look pretty any which way.
"how come i didn't know your hair's like this?"
"um, i like it flat. do i have to go to the club like this?"
"i like it. s'pretty. c'mon, leave it."
you turn to face your boyfriend. like everyone else, he's just saying it to be nice.
"will you take me home to grab my stuff? please?"
"if you really want it, kid, but i think you should leave it," rafe says, bringing his hand up to your hair, stroking the pieces by your face, twirling a wave around his finger. "c'mon, for me?"
you hesitate, looking up at your boyfriend.
"but i wanna look nice for the club."
"the fuck are you talkin' about? you always look nice."
"but it's not as nice. it's messy. i like it-" rafe interrupts you, bringing his hand to your jaw the way he always does, squeezing tight but not too tight.
"stop. it looks nice. stop overthinkin' it. got it?" you nod. "s'nice. you should wear it like this more often."
"sure. whatever you say."
"that's right."
#btw is this the same anon who sent another ask in the pink font? my pink anon?#also im so sorry if this wasnt what you wanted its just what came to mind !#rafe cameron#rafe cameron x reader#shy reader
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coffee, pancakes for two; jude bellingham
summary: coffee dates with jude before class sound way better in your head
pairing: jude bellingham x reader
warnings: mentions of food
notes: you can find my masterlist here
"we're sitting in."
jude's tone was final, firm enough to suggest he wanted no argument from you and the slight raise of his eyebrows and tilt of his head said he was waiting to shut down any attempt you gave. he held on to your waist, fingers soft on the skin beneath your jumper as though he could stop you from running away. not that you would, you wanted your coffee first.
"but i have to squeeze in my last few slides of notes before the exam." you pouted slightly up at him and watched him shake his head as he tapped just above the curve of your bum. the coffee shop was busy with the early hour, students and workers alike waiting for their first hit of caffeine, eager for the few minutes of warmth the small corner establishment offered. despite the stream of people around jude had no issues in tugging you as close as possible, dipping his head and pressing a quick kiss to your jutted out bottom lip.
"you can do that here."
"but you'll-"
"nuh uh," he cut you off with another kiss. "but nothing. you have lectures after your exam and i know for a fact you won't eat anything until at least 5 and it's-" jude checked the clock on the far wall with a pointed look. "8 right now. i wanna make sure you have something before you leave."
your eyes narrowed, fingers tugging at the straps of your bag as he ushered you forward just slightly in the queue. half of you was grateful for him, a fuzzy feeling low in your tummy that he wanted to take care of you, loved you enough to make sure you were okay when he knew sometimes you forgot to put yourself first. the other half of you knew being with him meant you probably wouldn't get much done, his presence alone a distraction, even if he remained quiet.
"i can grab something after my exam."
"i know you won't. so how about you close that pretty little mouth of yours and go find us a table?" this time you rolled your eyes and jude grinned, kissing the side of your head. "don't roll your eyes at me."
"you're so bossy."
"maybe you should just listen to me then." knocking your elbow into his side you pulled away from him, gaze sweeping the cafe for somewhere to sit. jude's fingers were still on your back, thumb brushing back and forth almost absentmindedly against your skin and it had you half melting into him, any hint of protest gone from you as you nodded towards an empty table by the window.
"m'gonna sit over there."
"you want your usual?"
"yes please." he squeezed your hip in a sign of acknowledgement and then you were weaving your way to the table, sitting yourself down with your back to your boyfriend. you were already pulling your laptop from your bag, setting it on the table in front of you and pulling up your notes, attempting to get at least a little bit of reading done while you were here.
you'd read three pages of an assigned journal before jude appeared at the side of the table, a tray balanced in his hand. his brows were drawn together, tongue peaking out from the corner of his mouth in a way that had you giggling. his gaze snapped to yours then to your laptop.
"scoot that out the way."
"i'm busy."
"you want your coffee or not?" shifting the laptop off to one side to make room you peered at the tray, gaze sliding over the two cups of coffee and landing on the small stack of pancakes, a small boat of maple syrup beside them. "almost got those for free." jude had settled into the seat opposite you and was in the process of shrugging his black jacket off, twisting to drape it over the back of his chair. he was wearing a plain white tee underneath and you hated him just a little for looking so effortlessly pretty in such a minimalist outfit.
"the barista was a fan?"
"the barista thought i was cute." your gaze snapped up from admiring his arms at that, a grimace twisting your lips as you reached for your coffee. it was warm beneath your hands, eased the slight chill that had been in your fingers since leaving the house that morning.
"clearly has terrible taste, all that caffeine must be going to her head."
"yeah? what's your excuse?"
"i know what your bank account looks like."
"funny." jude knocked his foot against yours beneath the table, locked it around your ankle and tugged softly. "what was it you were saying this morning? i'm sure you were telling me how fit i am, couldn't keep your hands off me."
jude had poured the syrup over the pancakes and you used your fork to cut a piece free, popping it into your mouth with an exaggerated roll of your eyes. "i don't know what you're talking about."
"oh really? you don't remember begging me to-"
"i swear to god, bellingham, if you finish that sentence." you pointed your fork at him in an attempt to look threatening but jude only grinned. your cheeks suddenly felt hot with the reminder of what had happened only an hour earlier and the fact that your boyfriend was so ready to air it out despite the old couple sitting at the table next to you.
"what?" he was pretending to be innocent, taking his own forkful of pancakes but his lips had tilted into a teasing smile. "i was gonna say how you kept begging me not to leave the bed."
"yeah, sure you were. these are really good by the way."
"thanks, i think they really went out of their way to impress me."
"the size of your ego never fails to amaze me." you turned to your laptop, pulling up your notes to skim over, aware that jude was still smiling over at you, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.
"only the size of my ego?"
"nothing else is big enough to impress me."
"'oh jude! please don't stop, s'just so good.'" the toe of your shoe smacked harshly into jude's ankle, your glare enough to seer through his head as his fake moans tapered off into soft giggles. the couple beside you sent a look of disgust your way, muttering away to each other as heat crawled up your cheeks.
"seriously? you're ridiculous."
"just tryna jog your memory."
"you don't have to be so loud about it, you're gonna get us kicked out. and i do not sound like that."
"no, you're a lot louder. and more whiney, kind of like a-"
"shut up." he only laughed at your tone, held his hands up in mock surrender before reaching for one of yours. he held your hand in his, the black ring on his finger a cold sting against your skin as he slowly lowered his head. with his gaze still on yours, he kissed your knuckles.
"m'sorry babe."
"hmm you will be. here, make yourself useful." you pulled your hand away and pushed your laptop towards him, finger pointing to a small list of questions you were sure were going to be on the exam. "ask me these?" you watched him read over the words, his brows scrunching, nose crinkling as he glanced back up at you.
"you know what these things mean?"
"i hope so."
"it's so hot that you're smart."
"stop being a flirt and help me, would you."
for the next twenty minutes jude managed to behave himself, asking you the questions set out, leaning over and pressing a soft kiss to your mouth whenever you got it right, leaning in and kissing you even softer if you made a mistake because "kissing makes you smarter or whatever, it's biology". he'd cut off little slices of pancake for you, holding the fork in front of your lips and urging you to take a bite while your eyes skimmed the notebook you'd pulled from you bag.
once you'd made your way through all of the questions he pushed the lid of your laptop closed, slid it back into your bag for you before you could complain. "you're sorted for this, take a break before you burn yourself out.” you didn’t protest like he’d thought you would, only settled your elbows on the table, chin propped in your hands. jude had ordered a croissant halfway through your study session and he tore a bit of pastry off, pressed it between your lips with a tilt of his head.
“why’re you staring at me like that, weirdo.” he hadn’t missed the soft look in your eyes, the lovesick smile that was growing as you shrugged your shoulders. he copied your position, elbows on the table, chin in his hand and suddenly you were both almost nose to nose, his eyes locking on yours.
you sat quietly for a moment, took in the lighter flecks in his dark eyes, the slope of his nose and the full outline of his lips. he was trying to grow out his facial hair, the dark stubble on his chin and jaw almost begging you to drag your lips over it, to leave behind soft marks, too light for anyone to see. his full attention was almost making you squirm, heat blossoming in your tummy and rising until your heart felt ready to burst.
“i love you.” jude blinked a little in surprise at your sudden confession, not that he’d never heard it before, you said it often enough, he just hadn’t been expecting it in that moment. you cocked your head and sent him a somewhat shy smile. “thank you for the breakfast.”
“the pancakes were more for my benefit than yours, i was starving.” a soft snort left you as you shook your head.
“i’m being serious.”
“i know,” he pressed his foot to yours beneath the table. “but you don’t have to thank me.”
“i know.” again the two of you went quiet, neither of you wanting to be the one to look away first. jude’s eyes crinkled at the corner when he grinned, his head nudging to one side slightly.
“c’mere.” he didn’t give you the chance to move forward, he closed the gap himself, lips slotting softly over yours.
the kiss was slow, a gentle brush of his mouth over yours, broken rather quickly from fear of upsetting the couple still sitting a few feet away. jude didn’t move back straight away however, just bumped his nose against yours. “i love you too by the way.” then he was sitting back, pulling his jacket back over his shoulders, gaze tracking the time on his watch. “c’mon i’ll buy you one of those ice lattes and walk you to campus.”
#jude bellingham#jude bellingham fluff#jude bellingham one shot#jude bellingham fic#jude bellingham imagine#jude bellingham x reader#jude bellingham blurb
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"Just sleeping and fucking all day," I AM DEAD!!! and i revived just to BEG you to expand on this please i just love them so much 😭
I'm so glad you liked it, Anon! I came up with something but I'm like 90% sure it's not what you were asking for - I aimed to write more smut and it turned into saccharine fluff somehow. I apologize. Rest assured that the next update for this fic is business as usual, very spicy and contains Carmy finally ******* ****** :)
Teach Me Tonight - Deleted Scene 2.0
[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Deleted Scene] [Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 6] [Part 7] Deleted Scene: [Part 8]
Reader x Carmy Berzatto (The Bear FX)
Rating: Mature (1k)
Tags: Set sometime after the opening of The Bear, Smut, Virgin!Carmy, Fluff, Miscommunication, Domesticity
"Hey, baby," Carmy mumbled with a smile, rolling over in bed and looking at you with sleepy eyes.
You had padded into the room and leaned over to kiss his neck, waking him up from his third nap of the day. In between, you had fucked - slow and loving, then quick and hard, then a mix of both. You felt tired in the best way - and still somehow you wanted him. But you could wait.
"Shhh. I'm not here for another round," you soothed, moving a lock of hair out of his face. "Got us some pizza," you settled across from him, laying the box between you.
He sat up and ogled you shamelessly. You were wearing jeans and one of his shirts, your nipples showing through the white fabric.
"You're gonna be the death of me," he shook his head and focused on the slice of pizza you handed him instead.
"I mean," you gestured at him, his naked torso and satisfied smirk, "likewise, Carm."
You shared a hungry look while taking a bite of pepperoni. He broke first, looking up at the ceiling, away from you.
"How's it feel?" he asked.
"Mmm?" you nudged his leg with your foot.
"You come like two, three times when I can only do one and be just useless..." he blushed, curiosity tinting his skin. "I was just wondering what that was like, if all women were like that."
You smiled. Sometimes you forgot that he was a virgin before you.
"A lot of women can, uh, come multiple times," you explained. "If it's done properly, if you work for it," you cleared your throat. "Some women can't come at all."
"That sounds, uh-" Carmy struggled.
"Miserable?" you supplied and he nodded. "It can be. But sex isn't always about coming, you know? It's about being close and getting to know each other."
Carmy hummed pensively.
Just now, between one round and the next you had fallen asleep still intertwined, spent, his arms around your waist and his softening cock inside you. It was nice, to be so close with zero expectations of it going anywhere.
"What've you learned about me? With sex, I mean," he asked, his blue eyes wide.
"That you're giving, uh, determined, a fast learner," you pondered for a minute while you chewed. "A bit of a control freak but we knew that from before," he chuckled. "And you think you don't deserve good shit, even though you do."
"Pretty spot on," he let out a shaky breath.
You caressed his calf over the bedsheets. It felt strange to be talking about this but it had been a fucking weird day, and discussing orgasms with Carmy while eating pizza fit right in.
"You're a great fuck, Carm," you said softly. "And that takes patience and care and- I love that you want to make me feel good. I do," his gaze was downward and you reached for his hand. "I just don't want you to think you need to be perfect for me here too, you know? There's no pressure."
Carmy nodded and his eyes met yours, he gave you a soft smile.
"Thanks," he brushed your knuckles with his thumb. Then his smile turned mischievous. "Just to be sure, you do like coming though?" he looked for confirmation, head tilted.
"Yeah," you laughed. "Obviously, yeah," you poked at his side and reached for another slice of pizza. "I'm just saying there's no pressure, okay?"
"Okay," he took a big bite of crust. "You didn't answer my question from before," he prompted, raising his eyebrows. "How does it feel?"
"Uh. Well, you don't know how good it's going to be until you're coming. Sometimes it slows down, becomes softer. Or you get halfway through the next and get stuck there," you shrugged. "Sometimes it builds up, becomes more intense each time-"
"Like the last one?" he asked.
You blushed - the memory of him on top of you, his chain dangling near your mouth, his hands holding your wrists above your head, taking up all your thoughts. He had fucked you through your first orgasm until you saw stars and your moans turned into cries of pleasure.
"Exactly like that," you replied bashfully like it wasn't you that had begged him to keep going and fuck you harder.
"How many have you done?" Carmy asked after a while.
"Huh?"
"How many times you've come in a row?" he repeated, that calculating look back on his face. "What's the max?"
"I don't know, five?" you laughed nervously. "I think you're getting the wrong message from this, Carm."
"No, I know," he shook his head. "I was guessing we could start with all that 'no pressure' thing tomorrow. And I think I still have one more round left in me today, so..."
"What the fuck, Carm?" you giggled.
You covered your face with your hands, hiding how flustered you were.
"I'm serious," he said, amusement still showing in his tone. You finally uncovered your face and looked at him. He was smiling but he wasn't joking. "I don't know how to be calm," he explained. "I don't know how to fucking relax and be normal. I never have. Being with you- That's the closest I've come to that," he said softly. You cupped his face tenderly. "But sometimes it gets so crazy that the only thing I know I can do well is make you feel good. That's why I can be a control freak and competitive and insane..."
You shushed him.
"You're fine, baby," you caressed Carmy's shoulders, scooting closer to him. "I love that you're all those things. I just- You push yourself to the limit. You can hurt yourself trying to make everything perfect," your thumb traced the edge of the dark circles around his eyes - all from early mornings and late nights at The Bear. "I don't want to be that for you - another weight, another thing that needs to be perfect."
"You're not," he whispered. "You've never been that, okay?"
"Okay," you sighed and surged forward to kiss him, his face between your palms.
Even after the kiss was over you stayed there, your forehead on his, and your noses touching.
"So," you said after a while, "how about we finish this," you pointed at the pizza, "and watch a movie?"
You had learned that watching a movie with Carmy was shorthand for a nap on the couch since he was always so fucking tired.
He chuckled against your mouth.
"I think I can manage that," he replied, guiding you by the hand to the living room.
~
[Part 8]
~
@th3h0nkz @faephoria @wadupppp
#replies#carmy x reader#carmen berzatto x reader#carmy berzatto x reader#carmen berzatto fanfiction#carmen berzatto x you#carmy berzatto x you#carmy x you#carmy berzatto smut
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the workin’ of my hands— a whatever’s still to come oneshot
summary: a stretched summer night between you and steve.
pairing: steve harrington x f!reader
word count: 2271
warnings: prosaic smut, too many metaphors, and an over abundance of chiaroscuro - the usual!
note: am I positively feral for unreal unearth? 100 percent yes, do you even know me at all?! like I’ve said, this series is a long way from seeing the light of day, but enjoy a lil’ taste in the meantime.
Nota bene: Reblogging, commenting, and liking my work is always appreciated; reposting, however, is not.
Enjoy! 💜
It feels destined and star-crossed, the way his heart kicks up when your fingers brush against his.
Finally worked up the courage to ask you out, and it’s holding hands that does him in?
He shakes his head minutely, biting his lip and tearing his gaze from you. Not noticing your upturned face, thinks you’re looking at the stars when in reality, you can’t stop looking at him.
So familiar yet so different from what you imagined he’d be.
No matter.
Not when he squeezes your hand and he cuts the engine of the beemer.
It was a casual date, all things considered; dinner at the diner followed by a movie. During which Steve had been a perfect gentlemen, opening doors and keeping his hands to himself.
He doesn’t exactly want to and would rather propriety be damned, but the thing is he likes you. Really likes you. To the point that Robin is getting sick and tired of his moping and making cow-eyes at you whenever you’re in Family Video.
“Shit, or get off the pot, Harrington.”
He snorts, and continues to stock the new releases across the shop. “Such language,” he taunts, “And from a lady, at that.”
Robin rolls her eyes and Steve swears he can almost hear it. “‘M tryin’ to give you some advice, dingus.”
“Uh huh,” he replies, walking back to the counter for another stack of tapes. “No offense Robs, but I think between the two of us, I’m the dating expert.”
Now it’s her turn to snort. “Okay, big guy.” She taps the keys of the computer idly, “Then when is the last time you’ve used this so-called expertise?”
“Pfft.” He rolls his eyes, “I dunno, like last week? Crystal or Christine— whatever her name was.”
Robin smirks, “You think that was last week? Try a month ago. Poor Christine only stopped calling you last week.”
Steve stops, a tape nearly falling from his grasp. The door chimes, signaling a customer walking in, and he nearly falls over himself trying to assist them.
Only to see you standing by the door.
Robin lets out a low whistle and busies herself at the counter. And Steve would like nothing more than the ground to open up and swallow him whole.
You look divine.
A bright summer dress, skirt skimming just above your knees to reveal sun-warmed skin. The faint aroma of sunblock and chlorine clings to you, invading his senses while he forces his eyes upward.
The bodice of the dress is damp, clinging to your rib cage and waist; it’s clear you’d just come from the pool and had thrown the garment on as a cover-up, a lone bikini strap slipping down one shoulder and chest heaving.
You’re clutching a tape in hand, something you’d rented last week, and that’s when it all slides into place.
“I—uh,” you say, trying to catch your breath. “I forgot to return this earlier, how much in late fees?”
It’s at this point that Robin has the sense to make herself scarce.
“Oh,” Steve replies, one hand coming up to scratch the back of his neck. “I mean, it’s not a huge deal since it was due this morning.”
His free hand comes to take the tape from you. Your fingers brush for the briefest of moments before Steve is turning to deposit the tape with the other returns.
He tries to stifle the shudder that runs through him, the sensation of your soft skin against his.
“Did you like it?”
“Hmm?”
Steve clears his throat, “The movie, did you like it?”
“Sure,” you say, fingers lingering on the tapes he’d just stocked. “It was fine.”
How Steve got from there to here, on a bona fide date with you, he’ll never know. Though Robin is insistent, it has something to do with “the Harrington charm offensive.”
Usually, somewhere between dates three to five, Steve maybe gets his dick wet. If he’s lucky.
But you flutter your lashes and look up with those big doe eyes and he finds himself defenseless.
“Wanna come up?”
He all but stumbles up the stairs to your apartment, tittering giggles spilling from your mouth as you unlock the door.
Steve’s eager, and you like it.
Is it such a bad thing, that he’s desperate for more of your time?
It’s like his mind finally rests in your presence, his soul is at peace. No longer constantly looking over his shoulder for the next big, bad thing.
You quiet the agonies inside him.
Replace them with warmth and light.
His mouth is on you as soon as the door is locked. Boozy and warm, with the faintest hint of tequila from your drink at dinner. You sigh into the kiss and Steve swears it’s a sound he’s heard only in his dreams.
Heat licks up the ridge of your spine, Steve’s hands everywhere, as if he can’t get enough of you. Leading him from the entryway, your hands land on his hips fingers hooking into belt loops.
A gentle tug brings you both into the dim light of the bedroom. Hands glide up his chest to settle along his shoulders as your lips part from his with a soft click. He takes slow breaths, mindful not to pull from your orbit.
Your arms drape languidly around his collar, fingers idly caressing the strands of hair at the nape of his neck. Eyes blown wide with lust, starry and enchanting; if he’s not careful, Steve swears he could get lost in them.
A slow smile graces your lips as your hands drift to his chest— a soft push sends his back to the downy duvet while you nudge his legs apart.
“Honey,” he rasps, running a hand through his hair, watching your deft fingers pop the button on his jeans. “You don’t have to—“
A disapproving cluck from you as you unzip the fly. “But I want to, baby.”
Steve’s dick jumps.
Baby.
Sticky sweet falling like spun sugar from your ruddied lips. He groans, eyes screwing shut and head falling against the pillow. He’s as good as gone now; your intoxicating smile and the working of your dexterous hand, freeing him from the confines of his boxers and sealing his fate.
Because Steve isn’t used to this— being cared for. He plans the date, picks her up, pays for dinner, drives her home, and pretty much does all the heavy lifting in the bedroom. He’s a generous lover, or so he’s been told.
“If you’re down for a good time, call…”
So to say he’s unprepared when you get your mouth on him and sluice him up with lover’s spit, is an understatement.
Steve’s soul could leave his body at this moment and he would be none the wiser.
Not when your pretty little mouth is wrapped around his cock in a smile. It’s everything he can do not to blow his load right then and there.
You work him up easily. Not that it’s that difficult, because he really, really likes you. Your hand working in tandem with what your mouth can’t fit and Steve is losing his damn mind.
The sounds are obscene.
Wet sucks and licks from your mouth, moans as you sink him further down, crushing against your molars. Low whines pouring from his own mouth, begging,
“Oh, fuck. Jus’ like that— ohmygod your fucking mouth.”
His hands cradle your head tenderly, like he can’t bring himself to believe that this is happening. And as heavenly as your mouth is, Steve knows, deep in his bones, that he has to be inside of you.
Like, yesterday.
“Honey,” he says, fingers sweeping along your jaw, coaxing you to look up.
When your eyes meets his, Steve has to stave off an orgasm from a particularly harsh suck of your mouth.
“C’mere,” it comes out more desperate than he’d intended, but you don’t seem to mind.
Fingers wipe away the lover’s spit that had gathered on your mouth and chin, a mischievous glint in your eyes.
“What is it, baby?”
Your voice is a wrecked low rasp, and pulls at something primal in his guts. The weight of you settles against his lap, a wiggle of your hips stoking the heat trapped in his veins.
Steve takes a moment to study you: wild hair from the torment on his fingers, eyes warm and glassy, lips slick and revealing a bright flash of teeth. The strap of your dress falls from your shoulder and he wants nothing more than to wreck you.
As if you can read his mind, you wink and reach back to unzip the dress. You pull the fabric up and away inviting the moonlight to gleam against your skin.
It steals breath.
His hand reaches out to trace the curve of your breast, earning him a lustful sigh that falls from your open, panting mouth. You’re so soft under his fingertips, Steve wants to get his mouth back on you, he has to.
But then you pull your pantries to the side and, oh god, is that hotter than he thought it’d be— only to grip the hot, firm line of him against your petaled heat.
Steve goes to say something, anything to warn you, that he can’t possibly fit. That you’re not loosened up enough. He hasn’t even eaten you out or worked your open on his fingers.
But all that comes out is a groan as he disappears into the divine, wet heat between your thighs.
Jesus Christ in Heaven.
“S’okay, baby,” you coo. “I can take it.” You lean closer, hair tickling his neck and breath fanning against his skin, “I was made for you.”
Steve has no idea what comes out of his mouth at that. Just thrusts up uselessly, hands holding firm to the flare of your hips. You chuckle lowly and brace yourself against his chest, finger nails scraping along his skin.
You ride him like it’s your job, alternating slow, winding thrusts with quick, percussive ones. You’re so tight. And wet. And hot. Half-lidded eyes trained on him, changing your tempo to suit his pleasure.
Steve can feel himself growing warm, heat climbing up his neck and chest. A rag-doll beneath you, a sheen of sweat along his skin, mouth open in a wet gasp. The quirk of your lips sends a rush through his veins, a low keen falling from his lips.
“Slow down, gonna come if you keep that up.”
You settle into a slow, lazy roll of your hips, but just barely.
“Why, don’t you wanna come, baby?”
He’s in so deep that his skin blooms with a shudder when his cockhead kisses your cervix.
“Big and filling me up so well, Stevie.” A plaintive moan erupting from your lips, accompanied by a vicious clench of your walls. “God, you feel so good.”
Steve smiles delirious and completely captivated by you. Extricates a hand to drag you back down to him, rests your forehead against his, as if your souls could become intertwined, and kisses you like he’s a dying man.
And, hell, he might as well be.
“Fuck,” rushes out in a hoarse breath. “Fuck!”
The room spins out of control and he can feel you smiling against his collarbone. You wind your hips and flutter your walls against him, as Steve grinds deeply into you. Steadies himself by palming at your hips, thumbs tracing the jut of bone there, as if it would ground him.
His orgasm crashes on him like a tidal wave, bringing with it a sense of deja vu— you and him but in a different time and place. Your eyes and smile remain the same, as does the feeling— a bone-deep sense of home.
But the clothes are different, as are the words that fall from your lips. Dappled in light from the moon or sun, the images keep coming and so does Steve.
“Philtatos,” you gasp, reaching your peak with a full body shudder. Steve’s hands anchor you to him, points of heat flaring against your skin.
And it’s glorious— you are glorious. Moonlight cutting through the shade of night to illuminate your pleasure. The clench of your cunt is nearly enough to make him come all over again, and wrests a strained moan from the confines of his throat.
By the time Steve comes to his senses again, you’re sponging open-mouthed kisses and bites to his neck and chest, a hand laid over the steady beat of his heart. You wiggle against his hips and thighs, wet and sticky between your legs.
He clutches at your waist, breaths evening out once more. Fingers trace the curves of your ribcage while he revels in the comedown.
“What was that thing you said? Phil—“
The crescents of your nails drag delightfully against his skin. “Philtatos.”
“Yeah, that.” Steve’s hand settles at the nape of your neck, playing with your hair idly. “What does it mean?”
You hum contentedly, nearly melting at his touch and earning a raspy laugh form him.
“S’like a nickname,” you supply softly. “It’s Greek.”
He doesn’t press further. More interested in the working of his hands, wants you boneless and sated spread out before him. His cock kicks up at the thought.
“Baby,” you ask, syrupy sweet.
“Uh huh.” He’s woozy.
“What’s your refractory period like?”
A shiver courses up his spine. He laughs and shakes himself alive, pulling up to take you down to the mattress. You acquiesce easily, back arching and lips searching for him in the near dark.
“Okay honey,” he says with a knowing lilt and grin, “Now it’s my turn to fuck you.”
#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x you#steve harrington smut#steve harrington fan fiction#stranger things fan fiction#fic: wstc#Spotify
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˗ˏˋ street food date ´ˎ˗
(isn’t that just the most creative title :D)
requested by very a lovely person who wishes to remain anonymous <3
Pairing: Pavitr Prabhakar (Spider-Man India) x Fem!Pakistani!Reader
Type: Oneshot - Fluff
Word count: 1.3k
Warnings: terms of endearment, mentions of food & eating, usage of Hindi (translations provided), I don’t speak Urdu so it’s google-translated 😭
A/N: Reader speaks Urdu and Pavi (canonically) speaks Hindi. Since both languages are pretty similar in terms of speaking, at least from what I’ve observed, let’s assume that they can understand each other fairly easily :)
I absolutely LOVED writing this omg it was such a cute request! Sorry it took me so long so do this, I was so busy that I completely forgot abt all my reqs for a while 😅
Btw this was barely proofread so if there are mistakes no there aren’t <3
“Meri jaan, you’re spilling it.”
You turned at the familiar voice, just barely managing to balance a paper plate in your hands with an absurd amount of dahi papadi chaat piled onto it.
“You’re late,” You noted, biting the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from smiling like a lovestruck idiot as Pavitr approached you, flashing that dazzling, slightly crooked grin that had your heart stumbling and falling over your mind trying to make sense of it all. You dropped your gaze to the floor, trying your best to cross your arms without dropping the food on the plate.
“I know. And I’m sorry, I really am. But you know that juggling my… duties and timings are hard,” He dipped his head slightly to make you look at him, brushing a small piece of papdi off your kurta. God, he was so annoying sometimes. His eyes were so soft and irresistible and he knew it.
“Come on, look at me,” He said teasingly, stepping forward slightly and grinning as you glanced up at him, then immediately frowned at your lack of willpower when it came to him. “There she is.”
You felt a smile break through so you set down the paper plate on a nearby ledge, leaning forward to wrap him in a hug and bury your face in his clothes. “Arre, you’re insufferable,” You mumbled, to which he let out a small chuckle and effortlessly picked you up to spin you around despite your little yelp of surprise.
“Oh, yeah, definitely. I’m sure that’s why you came out here on a date with me to have street food, right? Let’s go, meri dhoop. No use of you being all sad right now, naa? Look, there’s even pani puri a few stalls down.”
You almost got whiplash from how fast you turned your head to look, your eyes widening in excitement as all previous thoughts were forgotten. “You should’ve mentioned that earlier!”
Pavitr laughed, the easy chuckle - as cliché as it sounded - practically music to your ears as you grabbed his hand and took off, leading him to the pani puri vendor. “I knew that’d cheer you up.”
One shared paper plate of (admittedly quite messy) pani puri and a whole skewer of seekh kebab later, you leaned against a ledge overlooking the Mumbattan bridge right next to a whole row of new vendors. Pavitr wrapped an arm a little too tightly around your shoulders, nervously measuring the distance you would fall if you tripped.
“Pavi, relax, I won’t fall,” You gave him a reassuring smile, and he breathed out slowly before giving you a slightly strained smile in return. “Yeah, sorry. Spider-Man stuff. Lots of, uh… bad things happen. Usually near large drops.”
Your eyes flicked to his hand, gripping the railing so hard his knuckles were starting to lose circulation. Sensing his discomfort, you moved away from the railing back into the middle of the cobblestones.
“I’m going to braid your hair,” You declared suddenly to ease the tension in the air, examining the smooth waves that framed his face, pushed back slightly with his blue headband. His eyes widened in horror at your statement. “Wait, what? No! I said I was sorry for coming late! I’ll do my absolute best to come on time, I promise!”
“I’m not that rough,” You protested, scrunching your eyebrows as he cupped his warm hands over your cheeks. “Of course not, meri jaan. You’re so gentle, my hair definitely doesn’t feel like it’s being sent to an early grave.”
“Aap drama baghair kisi wajah ke bana rahay hain.” (You are making drama for no reason) You frowned at him and he chuckled softly, shaking his head.
“Kabhi nahin! Mei achcha vajeh se drama karta hoon. …Uff, thik hai, tum mere baalon ko tod sakte hain. Lekin… pehle ise kha leh.” (Never! I do drama for good reasons. ..Okay, fine, you can tear my hair out. But first… eat this.)
He held up a plate of vada pav, his smile growing as your eyes lit up again, the familiar scent bringing back memories of sitting in your grandparents’ house and watching them cook, masala-infused aromas wafting through the kitchen from the large utensils.
“What did I do to deserve you?” You wondered aloud as you started stuffing your face with the nostalgic dish. Your tone was lighthearted and playful, but it had a few traces of the underlying truth. You were so, so lucky to have him, and you knew it.
You could see it every time he dramatically presented you with some knickknack or the other that he picked up along the way, handing it to you with a bashful ‘it made me think of you.’ You could see it every time he adjusted your dupatta, every time you caught him staring at you with round, loving, awestruck eyes as if you were the very centre of the cosmos itself.
And when he smiled at everyone it was usually genuine, sure, but you had a special kind of smile reserved for your eyes alone. One that made the small dimples at the corners of his mouth even more noticeable, one that made him scrunch his nose subconsciously with how wide he was smiling.
The kind of smile he was using right now. And oh, good grief, you were so far gone for him. He was so effortlessly gorgeous it actually hurt - wavy hair swept to one side behind his headband, brown eyes turning gold in the sun, the light dappling his face and flicking tiny spots of shadow onto his skin.
“Tum bohat khobsorat ho,” (You’re so beautiful) You whispered, completely spellbound. Pavitr blinked in surprise, his smile turning slightly shy. “Arrey, tum mujhe bahut zyaada phlait karte ho.” (You flatter me too much)
“No, really!” You insisted, tapping the tip of his nose with your pinky and laughing when he scrunched it instinctively. “You’re very pretty, you know that? Mera khobsorat ladka. Pretty, pretty boy.” (My beautiful boy)
“Aap adhik sundar hai.” (You’re more beautiful) Without warning, he gently grabbed your torso and pulled you into his arms, burying his face in your hair. You looped your arms around to meet behind his shoulder blades, resting your chin in the crook of his neck.
You were scared to move, to disturb the silent peacefulness of it all, but you wanted to tell him something that would hopefully put his worries to rest.
“You know I won’t leave you, right? I won’t be your… what is it, canon event? Whatever that is.”
At the words ‘canon event’, Pavitr flinched as if he had been burned, his eyes wide and searching as he looked at you. “What? Where did that come from? And how-”
“Okay, listen, so it’s kinda my fault,” You began, choosing your words so as to not agitate him any further. “But you know how you said I could read your journal, because basically every embarrassing thing you’ve written is you being lovesick for me?”
“I didn’t think you’d actually do it!” He covered his face with his hands in embarrassment, messing up his hair in the process.
“Anyway, uh… you left it open on your drawer and I maybe kind of accidentally looked through the last entry. But only because I was worried. You’d been acting stressed out the whole day, remember? I’m sorry!”
“I don’t… hmm, actually, that’s pretty sweet that you were worried. I appreciate it.” He lifted his head to meet your eyes, almost smiling before his face crumpled again. “Hang on, what else did you see? Oh, god, did you see the whole page of poems I wrote? No, wait, hear me out! In my defence, I was absolutely whipped for you. I still am, but-”
“Pavi?”
“Yeah?”
“Ai, meri mohabbat. Chup ho jao. Mujhe lagta hai ke yeh dilkash hai,” (My love. Shush. I think it’s adorable) You reassured him, leaning forward to kiss the tip of his nose before moving in to press a soft kiss to his lips, an attempt at putting his worries and ramblings to rest.
That shut him up pretty well.
Please know that I am not Pakistani! I tried my best to write this, but if there is anything I’ve gotten wrong, please let me know and I’ll be happy to change it. <3
Meri jaan - my life
Meri dhoop - My sunshine/my sun
A kurta is a loose, collarless type of shirt worn by people in South Asia. It usually extends up to or just past the knee.
A dupatta is a length of material worn arranged in two folds over the chest and thrown back around the shoulders, typically with a salwar kameez or a kurta, by women from South Asia.
Papdi chaat (or papri chaat) is crispy fried-dough wafers served with typical chaat ingredients such as chickpeas, boiled potatoes, yogurt sauce, and tamarind and coriander chutneys; it may also contain pomegranate seeds. Dahi papdi chaat is the same thing, but more yoghurt is used (dahi means yoghurt/curd).
Pani puri is a popular Indian snack consisting of fried puff-pastry balls filled with spiced mashed potato (the puri), spiced water, and tamarind juice (the pani).
Seekh kebab is a type of kebab made with Indian spices, spiced, minced or ground meat, usually lamb or chicken, formed into cylinders on skewers and grilled.
Tags: @hobiebrownismygod @l0starl @therealloopylupin2099
#⋆·˚ 🌹 ༘ * — 𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗶’𝘀 𝙧𝙤𝙨𝙚𝙨!#⋆·˚ 🌺 ༘ * — 𝙝𝙞𝙗𝙞𝙨𝙘𝙪𝙨𝙚𝙨!#across the spiderverse#atsv#atsv x reader#pavitr prabhakar#pavitr atsv#atsv pavitr#spiderverse pavitr#pavitr prabhakar x reader#pavitr prabhakar x you#pavitr prabhakar x fem!reader#pavitr prabhakar x pakistani!reader#pavitr x you#pavitr my beloved#pakistani reader#atsv fluff#atsv x desi!reader#desi reader
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How the bucci gang sleep hcs
This has been in my drafts since January wtf
BRUNO BUCCIARATI + LEONE ABBACCHIO
all over the place
there is not a single time where these two have woken up in the same position they fell asleep in
like they'll fall asleep spooning, then they'll wake up with half of Bruno's limbs zipped off and Abbacchio sprawled across the bed in a position that looks uncomfortable with her foot in Bruno's face
one of Bruno's legs is probably on the floor and Abbacchio is most likely cuddling one of his arms
they're just used to it at this point
"Leone can you pass me my leg?" "m'kay"
Narancia came in to wake them up one time and screamed because Bruno zipped his head off in his sleep
Mista and Trish teased him about it for weeks
anyway i bet on my life that Bruno and Abba bring out their stands in their sleep
just randomly while they're sleeping Sticky Fingers and Moody Blues pop out
they just look at each other, then down at their users, then back to each other
they end up cuddling too (SENTIENT STANDS SUPREMACY)
it's so cute when Bruno and Abba wake up and see that their stand are cuddling
also Bruno's hair may look perfect 24/7 but in the morning it's SO. FUCKING. MESSY.
he has to immediately brush his hair so no one sees it like that
except Abbacchio
SPEAKING OF ABBACCHIO
when she wakes up her hair is also a mess
just slightly less messy
she has breakfast before she does anything else, then she immediately does her make-up
also don't be surprised if Bruno has Abbacchio's lipstick stains all over his body in the morning
it just means he sucked some girl dick last night
usually on those days Abbacchio wakes up with smudged make-up that she forgot to take off
also Abbacchio has frequent nightmares and often times wakes up in the middle of the night
she doesn't like telling anyone and calms herself down before going back to sleep
Bruno knows about it though
GIORNO GIOVANNA + PANNACOTTA FUGO
these guys are like the opposite of Bruno and Abba
they'll fall asleep cuddling and wake up in the exact same position
usually Fugo's the big spoon because he doesn't like being the little spoon
brings back bad memories y'know?
but anyway they sometimes also bring out their stands in their sleep
GER most of the time
it just likes to pop out to see what's happening
sometimes in the morning when Fugo wakes up, he'll roll over and see GER staring him dead in the eyes
he screams loud enough to wake everyone up
nara, mista and trish all tease him about it
"Did someone get scared~?" "SHUT UP NARANCIA! IT WAS JUST STARING ME DEAD IN THE EYES!" "Pussy lmao" "MISTA" "Nah the boys are right, you are kind of a pussy" "TRISH!"
sometimes purple haze comes out while Fugo's asleep
GER just pops out and hangs out with ph for a bit
anyway Fugo's hair is always a pain in the ass when he wakes up
as for Giorno... uh...
picture Dio's hair but longer
he looks like a younger version of shadow Dio too in the morning lmao
also Giorno bites shit in his sleep
and he's got some sharp canine teeth
the pros of being half-vampire
don't be surprised if when they wake up there's bite marks on Fugo's arms
or if Giorno's biting a pillow
if Giorno's had a stressful day he might move around in his sleep too
not much usually, but one time he ended up sleepwalking
Fugo woke up in the middle of the night and noticed that Giorno wasn't there
panic
he eventually found Giorno wandering around the garden and muttering to himself
it was really funny when Fugo snapped him out of it
then they went back to bed and Giorno bit Fugo's hand so hard it drew blood
true love at it's finest
sometimes Fugo has nightmares and Giorno has to wake him up
on more rare occasions Giorno has a nightmare and wakes up Fugo because he's trembling and shaking so much
GUIDO MISTA
snores
that's about it
he'll sleep in any position there is possible and he'll be comfy in all of them
he's also the deepest sleeper in the team
this guy moves around a lot too
he'll fall asleep in fetal position against the wall, then he'll wake up halfway across the room with his blanket tangled in his legs
sleepovers with him are a nightmare because not only does he snore, but this man also sleeptalks
one time Narancia and Trish were sleeping in his room and they woke up to him mumbling about how far his ass is
they recorded it in case they ever needed to blackmail him
but yeah this guy is a mess
He sleeps naked too
Balls out and everything
Unless Trish and Narancia are sleeping over
In thy case he leaves his pants on
Also on hot nights he SWEATS
This guy naturally runs warm, he gets hot during the night
NARANCIA GHIRGA
Eeperton
Bro sleeps like a baby
Nara just kinda sleeps wherever
He hardly even uses his own room unless someone carries him there
Honk mmimimimi honk mimimimimi
Also they sleep with their blanket wrapped around them like a cocoon
My guy is snug as a bug in a rug fr
This mf does not make ANY noise in their sleep
Completely silent
The amount of times people have thought they were dead because of this is quite a hefty amount
Sleeby
The missile is very sleepy
If they sleep next to someone they cling on for dear life
Also they're a blanket hog
They do not move at all either
TRISH UNA
She sleeps in a princess bed
Also a quiet sleeper
But she does move, unlike Narancia
Goes to sleep like she's in a casket at her funeral and wakes up face down on the opposite side of the bed
If she forgets to take her makeup off before bed she screams and tells Giorno to buy her self-care products
Live laugh love Trish
Sometimes she sleeps with Sheila E (I wish lesbians were real💔💔)
#mister silly#silly little guy#jojos bizarre adventure#jjba part 5#jojo golden wind#fugio#giorno giovanna#jjba giorno#fugo pannacotta#jjba fugo#jjba fanfic#jojo fanfic#jjba hcs#jojo headcanons#headcanon#jjba headcanons#guido mista#abbacchio leone#jjba bruno#bruno bucciarati#bruabba#bruno x abbacchio#giorno x fugo#fugo x giorno#narancia ghirga#trish una
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MUSE. ellie williams x artist!reader.
summary: modern/college!au – ellie williams x fem!artist!reader. SFW! ellie has always had a crush on you, the girl who sat right in front of her in art class.
a/n: also hi i’m back looool (not proofread per usual)
The setting sun bleeds through the curtains of the art room, painting the walls in a soft orange that met the subtle undertones of your skin as you gazed right up the girl who had been standing frozen between the doorframe. Her backpack slung loosely over her shoulder and her short brown hair tousled lightly down her neck, partly tied at the back of her head as she grips the door handle. You were also quite frozen in your seat, arm lifting a paintbrush to a blank canvas with your eyes staring back at her. You wondered what she was doing, standing there with an unwavering stare like a statue.
It had been about an hour since class had been dismissed and you found yourself in a staring competition with a fellow classmate; a classmate you were quite fond of, a classmate you were quite attracted to. How could you not? It was Ellie. She was smart, creative, and ambitious, all equally matched her dashing good looks. She was very popular with the ladies, including you, and went to lots of parties, a crowd you never really thought of joining. It was strange being in a situation you would never have guessed to be in with this person. And after moments of unending eye contact, you finally broke the ice.
“May I help you?”
“O-Oh,” Ellie twitches in surprise after realizing how long she had been staring. “Sorry, I-I just forgot something. Didn’t mean to stare.”
“It’s okay, Ellie. I don’t mind,” you reply, setting your brush down against the table.
“I, uh, I didn’t think you’d know my name.”
You furrow your eyebrows in confusion, smiling lightly at her statement, “Are you kidding? What kind of person do you take me for? You sit right behind me.”
She was very well aware of this after the countless stares, including this one, that she had shamefully indulged in during class as you worked beautifully on your art. Beautiful. It was a word she often associated with you. Every time she looked at you; beautiful. She had developed this secret crush on you since the beginning of the year, having no courage to act on her feelings other than stare at you directly from behind for at least an hour each weekday.
Ellie slowly walks towards her desk, right behind you, “I know… But I mean, we don’t really talk so I… I don’t know. I thought I’d be like a blur to you… If that makes sense.”
“Well, don’t sell yourself short. I see you clear as day,” You play with the tube of oil paints with your fingers, smirking softly at her.
“What do you mean?” Ellie blinks at your reply, looking hopeful, hoping for the chance that you might like her the same way she likes you.
“I’ve always admired your work, Ellie. You’re amazing.”
Ellie’s shoulders drop, slightly disappointed, but also appreciative of your opinion of her and her artwork. “Thanks... So what’s got you stuck in here still?”
“Nothing. Just easier for me to do it here, than in my own apartment, I guess. And I like the quiet and the windows. Especially right when the sun sets. Besides, paint is so expensive now,” You roll your eyes, looking over to the almost empty paint tubes your professor let you use.
Ellie’s green eyes light up as she remembers the little stash of art supplies occupying the corner of her dorm room. “Uh, well, if you ever need some oil paint, I’ve got plenty, if you’d like. My dad always gets me art supplies but always in different mediums because he doesn’t know exactly what I use so I always have extra supplies I end up not using. I-I mean, if you want. I mean, I don’t oil paint, so...”
You can’t help but smile at her endearing mannerisms, watching her nervously rub the palm of her hand with her thumb, “That’s sweet of you, Ellie.”
A smile curves under her nose in triumph as her eyes slowly pan over to your easel, “It’s empty. Your canvas.”
“Oh. Yeah, I’m… I’m having trouble picking a subject. I kinda sat here for a while doing nothing, staring at it but I can’t think of anything yet... Except…”
Ellie raises her eyebrow, “What are you thinking?”
“A portrait. Well, obviously. But, I’m thinking… I could paint you? If you’ll let me.”
“Yeah,” Ellie says almost embarrassingly fast. “I mean, yeah, sure, if you think I’d be a good reference, yeah.”
You smile, “You’d be perfect, Ellie.”
Ellie begins to lose focus, mind fast forwarding to the time the two of you would be spending together. Painting was a slow process, especially one for an oil painter. She became grateful that you were one. Not only were you an amazing artist, but you spend a long time trying to hone your craft, so the time she’ll be sitting as your model would take more than a couple of days. Time with you. An excuse to be with you. Finally. After staring at the back of your head, watching you work as she sat behind you with constant adoration, she thanked whoever it was that led up to this moment.
It’s the fourth day of her sitting on this old brown stool you pulled out from the classroom closet. Ellie sits in her usual pose; relaxing, slouching slightly, a foot planted onto the floor while the other sits on the footrest, staring at your face as you painted. She found that you had a face you put on as you concentrated on your work — a sight she would’ve never gotten to see from sitting behind you in class. She was grateful for this experience, to be able to see you like this, putting most of your attention on her. The first day, she was quiet, seemingly nervous as she fiddled with her hands every time you would turn to look at her, making her almost want to look away, knowing her cheeks would be getting redder by the second. Now, it was easier for her to control. She was more confident, at ease and often finding herself babbling about her aerospace class like the nerd she is.
And you looked beautiful, as always. It felt different, sitting in front of you, rather than behind. She couldn’t look over your shoulder to see your work anymore, like she always does. Only you. In a way, she liked this better. She liked watching you work, watching how gentle your brush strokes were, how precise and calculated they were, how your technique never faltered and how amazing the canvas looked when you put your strokes together. But now, she could only see you. Your hair tied loosely away from your face, your eyes darting back and forth between her and the canvas, your apron tied around your pretty waist, a pencil tucked behind your ear, the way your eyebrows furrow in frustration when you can’t get something right, and the way you occasionally take a couple steps back away from the canvas to inspect everything thoroughly before diving right back into painting. You were quiet and concentrated, even when you gave small hums of affirmation when Ellie would talk.
And all Ellie could think about was how pretty you were, standing there, so unaware of the thoughts of you that filled her brain, masked behind her small but many talks of her space class.
“How’s it going over there?” Ellie asks curiously, scratching the back of her neck as she continues to grow more and more nervous under your stare.
“It’s… going…” You mumble, putting the end of your brush between your teeth, biting it slightly in frustration as you think.
“What’s wrong?”
“It’s missing…” Your sentence drifts, incomplete, as your eyes pan slowly over towards her once more, this time never leaving.
It only takes a second for you to put your brush down against your palette before walking over to where Ellie was sitting, stepping into her bubble, leaning down dangerously close to her face. Ellie twitches in surprise, eyes widening at the sudden closeness you two shared.
She could smell you. The soft fragrance that was so… you. She could see your eyes scanning every inch of her face, making her conscious of what she looked like during each passing second. But you were so close. It felt intoxicating.
So, she couldn’t help herself. Ellie brings her hands up to rest them on your hips, fingers playing with the hem of your shirt, one of her thumbs going through the belt loop of your jeans. Her eyes trail up to yours before darting down to where your lips were, sitting there so plump and delicious, practically calling out to her like a moth to a flame, as you continued to stare down at her. You loved the feeling of her hands on your body and you decided to respond by wrapping your arms around her neck, brown locks slipping through your fingertips.
If she could just tilt her head to the side a little more, lean her head upwards closer, she could just…
“Freckles... I was missing your freckles,” you sigh dreamily, already forgetting about the painting as you continued to stare at the girl in front of you. You bring your hand up to caress her face, thumb brushing softly over her eyebrow, paint smudging lightly against her skin, “You have a scar…”
“Yeah…” Ellie breathes, unable to take her eyes off your lips as you spoke softly.
“Where’s it from?”
“I… I liked building things as a kid. I tried to make a robot… Never worked, obviously, so I… I pulled it apart and destroyed it with a knife and I messed up with the angle I was cutting it with, and accidentally flung it towards my face.”
You hum in amusement, a smirk tugging at your lips, “I think the scar looks good on you.”
“You think so?” Ellie says, hands shifting slightly to rest underneath your sweater, feeling the skin of your waist, inching you closer towards her body, between her legs.
“Yeah,” you say lowly, before coming close to press your lips slightly towards her ear to whisper, “It makes you look sexy.”
Ellie can’t help but close her eyes, releasing a breath she didn’t know she was holding. The way you looked at her right now made her feel like she was on fire. Her face was burning up surely, but her heart was beating so fast it felt like it waking explode.
“I wanna kiss you,” she says, almost desperately.
You smile and run a hand through her hair, tugging on it lightly, making her groan lowly against you. “What’s stopping you?”
Ellie’s lips curve into a cocky smirk as she looks up at you with nothing but affection in her eyes, watching you like you were the most beautiful thing on the planet. “Nothing.”
And then, her lips pressed against yours with a gentle eagerness as her hands pulling you by your waist. It’s a moan that tugs on her heartstrings and is the cause of all the butterflies in her stomach. She discovers you like pulling at her hair when your paint-stained hands tug on it for the second time today, groaning against your lips at the feeling of your hands in her locks.
You pull back and smile when you see the subtle but visible pout on her lips, “How was that?”
Ellie can only shake her head and mutter two simple words desperately, “Not enough.”
And she dives right back against your mouth, arms wrapping tightly around your waist. Your hands trail down from her hair, resting your palms against her shoulder to find your balance, the kiss making you all dizzy. You unknowingly leave paint all over her shirt and her neck as she groans against your lips, seemingly never wanting to part from you ever.
You pull away again, both of you out of breath, lips hovering over each other as you regain your focus.
“I think we—” Ellie steals a kiss from you as you spoke. “Really need to—“ And then another. “Get back to—“ And then another. “Work!” You exclaim with laugh, pushing Ellie’s shoulders to keep her from coming closer even thought she had her arms wrapped around you still.
“I like kissing you,” Ellie says, hypnotized by you, how she felt like she was holding the literal embodiment of art in her arms. And finally, the words she’s been dying to tell you since she’s known you: “I like you.”
And she kisses you again, softer this time, humming lightly against your lips, hands treating you like porcelain. You tasted so good to her. She couldn’t help but want more. You moan in surprise as you feel her tongue drag across your bottom lip and instinctively, you open your mouth only slightly, but it was enough to push her tongue against yours, groaning in satisfaction, the taste of your tongue even more addicting. The grip you had on her shoulders only grew tighter as you kissed her.
“Mmhm, Ellie,” you moan.
Ellie groans into your mouth, immediately falling in love with the sound of your moans, squeezing your hips tighter, wanting to hear more from you before you move your head back to look at her. You stare down at her skin, thumb brushing over the freckles you wanted to kiss one by one.
Ellie pulls away with a smile, confidence growing by the second, “Yeah, baby?”
You roll your eyes and smile, leaning down to peck her lips once more, “I like you, too.”
And you kiss her again as she smiles into your lips. Your unfinished canvas was long forgotten as Ellie continues to distract you with her lips as your hands paints her skin.
You make a note to remind yourself to continue what you started, the painting and the kissing, both inspired by the muse which was Ellie.
a/n: thank u for reading my loves :)
#thought it’d be fun to write this as an art major :]#ellie williams x reader#the last of us#ellie williams#ellie x reader#the last of us part two#the last of us part 2#ellie tlou#tlou#tlou part 2#tlou2#tlou fanfiction#fanfic#joel miller#video games#imagine
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Ooh how abut number '11. toothpaste kisses' for soft prompts! Love your writing
Send me soft prompts! Ao3 collection post here!
Eddie is going to make everyone late.
Look: he really thinks most of it isn't his fault. He'd covered for somebody on B shift Tuesday, so he'd only had 24 hours off and he'd had to sleep through a good chunk of it, so laundry went a little by the wayside, leading to him tossing a frantic load into the washer at 5 am when he realized he had no clean work clothes. And, again, he’d covered that Tuesday shift after a 12 hour on Monday, so it’s reasonable that he forgot how dire the toothpaste situation was. The look Chris had given him when he said they needed to run to the store right now at bright and early 6 am would have withered a lesser soul, so at 6:04 Eddie, still in sweatpants and wearing ratty old slides is running down the block solo to grab whatever they have at the nearest corner store. He winces as he grabs the baking soda kind (Chris hates it) and books it back to the house, trying to breathe through the waves of oh god I’m a terrible father who left my kid alone and forgot about dental hygiene.
The house is considerably more crowded when he gets back to it. First, Chimney is lugging a dresser up the front stairs.
“What- hey- what-“ Eddie grabs the bottom of the thing, hastily shoving the toothpaste in his pocket. “What’s this?”
Chim tilts his head at him. “We were getting rid of it and you said you could use a new dresser, remember? I texted you I was coming to drop it off.”
Eddie’s phone is probably dinging away uselessly on his bedside table. “Right, yeah, sorry. There was a toothpaste emergency. Uh, thank you, we can just-“
Before he can come up with some way to finish that sentence, Carla opens the door. He hadn’t even seen her car, shit, he hopes there’s no calls right away when they get to work because he’s clearly not slept enough and should lay down again as soon as possible.
“Oh!” She says, surprised and cheerful. “Why don’t you bring that into the living room. I put your clothes in the dryer, Eddie, I figured if you were running the wash this early it was an emergency.”
Well thank god somebody has a plan and knows whats happening. He and Chim set the dresser next to a wall someplace as out of the way as they can get, and then Eddie points at Carla. “Thank you,” he says, trying to put as much sincerity into the words as possible, before pivoting to head down the hall to find Chris. Its not a long journey, the kid standing right around the corner. Eddie hands him the toothpaste. “There you go.”
Chris scrunches his nose. “Baking soda kind. Gross. And I don’t need it, Dad, Buck brought the good stuff.”
“Buck?”
“Hey.”
Eddie pivots again to look in the kitchen, where the man himself is leaning against the counter drinking a cup of coffee out of his current favorite mug, the one with the squiggly little drawing of a frog and a chicken dancing together. “Hi.” Eddie supposes he isn’t exactly surprised he’s here, Buck is a feature of their household as much as the mug he’s holding is, but he is a little concerned about the amount of people popping out of the woodwork without him noticing. “Anybody else here? Why’d you bring toothpaste?”
Buck grins. “I think you’ve seen everybody now. And you were running out when I was here last, you’ve been busy, figured it might be helpful.”
Eddie nods, a little… wordless, maybe, a little bowled over. “I’m gonna…” he gestures towards the bathroom and limply leaves the conversation. By the time he’s brushed his teeth (it is the good stuff, the pricier name brand arctic fresh, Eddie usually goes for generic spearmint) Chris and Carla are ready to head out the door. Eddie is glancing at the clock and nervously calculating exactly how wet the clothes he’s about to put on are going to be as he says goodbye, leaning to kiss Carla, Chris, and Chim’s cheeks. “Ok, thank you, have a great day at school, I’ll see you tomorrow.”
It takes a few seconds of staring at Chimney’s trying not to laugh face, and listening to Chris’s not-trying-not-to-laugh-at-all guffaws before his brain catches up to his actions. “Oh my god.”
Chimney grins and Eddie shakes his head futilely against the oncoming barrage. "I always knew I was your favorite." He smacks a hand to his cheek and swoons, and Eddie rolls his eyes. "Everyone said it was Buck, but I knew the Han-Diaz love connection was just waiting to happen."
Buck is laughing somewhere behind him, and Eddie wants to see what look is on his face, but instead he rolls his eyes again, harder, and says "I'm going to check on the laundry," and shoos his son out the door before fleeing to the dryer.
Of course it's all still fucking damp. They're already pushing it on time though (maybe if all three of them are late they can unionize against Bobby?) so he shucks his sweats and shimmies his way into the unpleasant cool of his pants. When he emerges from his shirt, wincing, he finds Buck in the hallway with him.
“Chimney says we’re running late and if you don’t hurry up he’s leaving you for dead, no matter your new found love.”
“I know, I know, I just need to find my shoes-“
“I put ‘em by the door,” Buck smiles, and then the smile becomes a grin. “Hey, Eddie.”
“Yeah?” Eddie says with the right amount of apprehension for the situation.
“No goodbye kiss for me?” He tilts his head, grin thoroughly classifiable as shit-eating.
“We’re going to the same place, Buck. I’m probably gonna ride in your car.” He’s absolutely going to ride in his car, they both know it.
“Ah, so is Chimney, he got one.”
And Eddie could defend himself with the reasonable explanation that he just happened to be standing in a row next to the people he’d meant to press his affection onto, or the less reasonable explanation that he only gives goodbye kisses to people whose names start with a C, but instead he says “You want a kiss, Buck?”
And he’s moving before he loses nerve, and Buck is also moving, laughing at him, so again Eddie feels like it’s not entirely his fault when his kiss lands sort of on his cheek but mostly- it’s mostly on his mouth, which is soft and exhaling a little surprised sound against Eddie. They both pull back but maybe not as far as they probably should, if they weren’t them, if Eddie hadn’t spent the last few weeks or maybe years wondering how he could ask Buck to live on the shelf with all the mugs he’s cycled through as favorites. Then Buck darts his head forward, pecking another little kiss to his mouth, and Eddie chases him for a third, and Buck’s hand tangles in his shirt and he says “Oh” into Eddie’s mouth because the fabric is wet under his touch.
“Buckley, Diaz, I’m getting in my car, and I’m not going to defend you to Cap!”
Even at Chimney’s words they don’t entirely jump apart, just slide back a little, stand more firmly facing each other as the front door distantly opens and shuts.
“We’re gonna be late,” Buck says, an awed little smile pulling at his face.
“Yeah,” Eddie says, a little breathless. Maybe he can blame that on the cold clothes. “We should probably get going.”
Buck nods, and barely finishes the motion before Eddie puts his hands on his face and pulls him in for another minty kiss, firm, a promise. Buck is grinning when he backs off and Eddie is sure his face is a mirror image as he ducks around him to go find his shoes.
They’re late. But as Buck settles next to him on the couch, all pressed along his side despite the still damp clothes, Eddie thinks it was worth the wait.
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Celebration time!!! (Hope I’m not late)
Ok I’m stuck between Tommy Miller & Santi Pope. You know what, let’s go w the former, spice me up bby!
💀 📝 prompt #134 “Touch yourself.” But the catch is: it’ll be rough/dubcon/DILF(?) but he’ll make reader beg for it
ILY you silly goose 🥰
warnings: 18+ only. mdni. BFD!tommy miller x f!reader. dubcon. age gap. inappropriate touching. choking. grinding. barely there fingering. no beta.
word count: 934
author's note: thank you so much for this prompt and for waiting for-fucking-ever for me to fill it. 💙
𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭��⋅ 𝐋𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲
“Shit.” Your friend says while looking at her cell. “I gotta take this. I totally forgot about my weekly call with my mom. I’ll be like 30 minutes.” She gives you a remorseful look before running along the edge of the inground pool and into the house.
You toss your towel onto the chaise with a sigh. Guess you’ll be enjoying the pool by yourself. You pop the cap on the sunscreen and begin applying the lotion when you feel the unnerving feeling of someone watching you.
“Mind if I join you?” A deep voice sounds from the deck attached to the house.
You raise a hand to shield your eyes from the sun to see your friend’s dad, Tommy, making his way down to the pool. His dark curls bounce as he walks and his shirtless, tan chest displays a chiseled physique with low hanging swim trunks.
He gives you a sly smile as he brushes past you and slinks into the adjoining sun chair. You feel his eyes scan your body from beneath his sunglasses while you continue applying the sunscreen despite wanting to cover yourself up.
“C’mere. Wanna make sure you’re covered head to toe.” Tommy dips his chin to the place between his burly thighs.
You give him a timid smile. “Uh, that’s ok. I think I’m good.” You wipe your hands on your towel and look towards the pool.
“I won’t take no for an answer.” He insists. “You’re staying with us during spring break. So, while you’re under my roof, you gotta follow my rules.”
You sneak a look at the house while you make your way over to the older man, praying your friend doesn’t come out, as you sit between his thighs. “Don’t worry. Her mom usually keeps her on the phone for a while.” He says as you hand him the bottle of sunscreen.
His words don’t make you feel any better.
Tommy rubs the lotion onto your skin, smoothing his hands all over your back. His skilled palms slide under your bikini straps and dip around the curve of your ribs and brush the swell of your breast every so often. Your belly flips under his touch despite how wrong the situation feels.
The ache between your thighs grows substantially as he smooths his hands down your spine and into the top of your bikini bottom. His fingers tease the curve of your ass forcing you to bite back a whimper. You’re desperate to quell the growing ache between your thighs the more he works.
Tommy shifts his legs, nudging you in the process and making your cunt grind against the sun chair. A faint whimper falls from your lips at the nerve bending sensation and you freeze on the spot.
“This feels good, huh?” Tommy quips, pushing his thumbs into the curve of your lower back and forcing your core to push harder onto the chair.
Your chin meets your chest from the salacious contact and your eyes flutter shut from his illicit touch. “Yes.” You respond, breathless.
“I wanna hear you.” Tommy grunts into the shell of your ear when he pulls you close. His bare chest molds to your dewy back as he holds you in place with deft hands locked around your arms.
A hot wave of arousal drips into the lining of your bikini. “Tommy, I don’t-” You start but when he rolls his hips lewdly into your ass all sensible thought goes out the window.
“Why you not doin’ as I say, Sugar?” He gives your body a curt shake before tightening his grip. “I wanna hear you beg.”
You gasp as he rocks his growing length into your ass once more making your core glide gloriously in the slick stained crotch of your bikini. “Come on.” He murmurs, licking a hot stripe down your neck. “Let me hear it.”
“Tommy, please.” You surrender softly.
“Oh, you’re so sweet.” He grunts before shifting his hold and wrapping one strong arm around your waist and the other locked around your neck. Your hands grasp his arm cautiously as he secures you in a chokehold pressing his bicep against your neck. “Makin’ me fuckin’ hard. Keep goin’, Sugar.”
Fire blazes in your belly as he forces you to grind against the chair just the way he wants. His cock presses obscenely into the curve of your ass moving your two bodies in sync.
“Plea-” He tightens his arm around your neck, turning your sultry beg into a pathetic squeak.
Your heart beats rapidly against your ribs when he cuts off your air flow. Your fingers dig into his arm as the pleasure escalates. Your lungs burn and your cunt spasms around nothing as your orgasm is on the precipice of flinging you over the edge.
He grunts behind you, pushing and shoving your throbbing core as his hips move faster. Your mouth bobs like a fish desperate for water as tears fill your eyes from the overwhelming stimulation. You begin to shake as every nerve flickers with rapturous sparks.
“Oh, you silly little thing.” He patronizes before stilling his hips and spoiling your imminent bliss. “I said, I wanna hear you beg.” The arm locked around your waist loosens only for him to slide a nimble hand into your bikini bottoms and circling your swollen clit.
Your body writhes under his depraved touch but your desire blinds the sinful act.
“If you cum before I’m satisfied, you won’t like what I have planned.” He threatens with a terse flex of his bicep cutting off your air once more.
“Now, beg.”
💌 send me mail - feel free to scream at me
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quality control (a sugar daddy hotch fic)
hi my loves! back at it again with another fic!! i really really hope yall like this one, its a little different for me but im happy with the final product! notes: 18+, female reader, phone sex (?), sex toys, just a smidge- a sprinkling of d*ddy kink
Late night phone calls with Aaron have always been your favorite.
You used to talk for an hour or two, polite conversation until he excused himself for work and followed up by sending you money.
The talks happened much more often now, and for longer intervals, and after a while, Aaron felt that the money transferring was getting a little tedious.
Now he just lets you borrow his credit card.
You’re sitting on your bed, phone tucked between your ear and shoulder, as your hands are otherwise occupied with painting your toenails.
“What color have you gone with this time?”
“It’s a kind of, a pastel violet.” You dip the brush back into the bottle so you can turn it upside down to read the label. “Suits You Swell.”
“And what does that name have to do with the color purple?”
“Not a thing. But I don’t care. As long as it looks pretty.” You wiggle your toes for effect, and you find yourself satisfied with your at home late night pedicure. “I bought some other colors too, but I decided the purple was right for spring.”
Aaron hums. “I saw. Got my credit card bill today. You did some shopping?”
“I did. Just a few things I wanted.”
You can hear the squeak of Aaron’s chair, like he’s leaning back to relax. “Tell me. You know I like to hear how you’re treating yourself.”
You smile, setting the nail polish down on your bedside table. “Well, I got the polishes and I got a new skirt I had my eye on.”
“The one you saw in the window at Burberry?”
“Yes! I thought it’d be perfect for work, it’ll go great with that blouse you like.”
You can almost hear him smile over the phone. “The sleeveless one with the v-neck? Now how did you know that’s one of my favorites?”
“Just a hunch.”
As if you hadn’t caught him staring at your chest every time you wore it.
“What else did you get?”
“Oh, uh. That’s it I think.”
Aaron clicks his tongue. “No, I think I see something else here.”
You feel the blood drain out of your face as you realize exactly what purchase he must be seeing.
“That’s just- I needed to-”
The thing was, your favorite vibrator had finally kicked the bucket. Ole faithful had been with you through many lonely days and hard nights, and lets just say that since your relationship with Aaron began, you’d been making it work overtime.
Age and over use finally caught up to it last week, and you couldn’t revive it no matter how many fresh double A batteries you crammed into it.
You usually preferred your discreet websites, but you’re guessing Amazon didn’t value anonymity the way actual sex shops did.
You were desperate and horny and needed something now, not in 5 to 10 business days.
You were so caught up in the idea of being able to get off again as soon as possible that you forgot ‘Multi-Speed, Wireless, Power Wand Massager’ might show up on Aaron’s computer screen when he got his monthly bill.
You put your head between your knees, sighing.
“Aaron, I’m sorry, I am so embarrassed.”
“Don’t be. You know I don’t care what you buy.” You know he means it, and he says it so casually, like you aren’t talking about you purchasing sex toys with the money the federal government pays him. “However,” He takes a breath. “I do need to know if what you’re buying is worth the money.”
You sit up in a flash, spine straight as an arrow.
“If it’s….worth it?”
“Of course. I don’t want you spending Daddy’s money on something that doesn’t do the job.”
Oh, that bastard. He knows what he sounds like when he says that word, the way it makes you blush.
You shift against the bed sheets, trying to ignore the growing ache between your legs. “I uh. I haven’t gotten to use it yet.”
“Oh?”
“I was planning on using it for the first time tonight.”
You’d planned the perfect night for yourself. Off from work early, takeout from your favorite restaurant, a relaxing bubble bath followed by a DIY mani pedi, with the grand finale of breaking in your brand new toy.
You’d even set it out to charge before work.
“Are you still going to?”
“To what?”
“Use it tonight?”
Of course you are.
Even if the conversation ended because Aaron got called away to middle of nowhere Nebraska to hunt down a murderer, you’d still be spending the entire night thinking about him while you got yourself off.
“I want to.” There’s silence on his end, only the soft sound of him shifting in his chair. You realize after a moment that he’s giving you an out. You can hang up right now and he’ll forget he ever said anything.
You have to be the one to make the next move.
“Would you like to listen?”
Aaron sighs in relief. “I would, baby.”
You remove your bottoms in a flash, flimsy shorts that get tossed to the end of the bed without a second glance. Part of you is worried that if you take too much time, this living breathing fantasy of yours will come to an end.
You lean over and unplug the vibrator from its spot on your side table, pleased when the light on the bottom flashes green.
You settle back onto the pillows, and after a moment of consideration, place your phone on speaker and set it down right next to you.
Aaron’s voice is right in your ear, and you imagine what it’d be like if he was truly in bed next to you, talking to you with his voice warm and low, tired from a day of use.
“If at any point you don’t want to keep doing this, you tell me, okay?”
You nod, realizing a second later that he can’t see you. “Okay.” You swallow heavily, willing your nerves to settle. “What should I do?”
“I want you to tell me about what you bought. Describe it to me.”
You pass it from hand to hand gently, getting used to the weight of it.
“It’s silicone, so it’s soft. The wand fits in my hand and then there’s the, uh, the head of it. Round at the top.”
“Are there buttons?”
“Yes. One to turn it on and another to change the speed.”
“Let’s start at the beginning, and then we’ll try them all out ok? Daddy needs a thorough review.”
You feel lightheaded and you haven’t even touched yourself yet. It’s another shift in your relationship, and he’s not even in the damn room with you, instead he’s preparing you for the hottest phone call of your life.
Is this even phone sex? He’s hardly said anything dirty, and as far as you know he’s sitting in his office as stoic and put together as always. You’re certain he’s feeling something too by the way his voice has started to shift into something low and husky, but you also don’t think he’s the type to get off in his own office.
You decide you’re overthinking it, shaking yourself out of your brain fog and taking Aaron’s direction. You push the button and you can feel the soft rumble in your hand.
You rest the head over your underwear, just to get you started, ease you into it, and you hum softly.
“It’s nice. Not too strong, not too gentle.”
“How are you using it?”
“I started over my underwear. I’m sensitive, and I like to make it last.”
You hear Aaron let out a stuttered breath, like he’s trying not to groan.
“You need to get yourself wet?”
“Don’t need to, I already am,” you admit.
This time he does groan, and he doesn't try to hide it.
“Did I do that to you, baby? Get you wet just by talking to you?”
You nod curtly, moving the wand up and down over yourself over the cloth, pressing down a little more.
“Yeah you did. Aaron, can I try the next speed now?”
“Of course.”
You click the button, and it’s a nice upgrade, an extra jolt of speed that has you wiggling your hips.
“It’s faster, but st-still pretty gentle.”
“Can you take your underwear off now?”
You don’t bother responding, using your free hand to pull the panties down and off, throwing them to the side.
The vibrations feel even better against your bare skin, and you audibly moan this time, rubbing the head against your clit.
“God, that sounds so good. Gonna have me hard in my office sweetheart.”
The idea of Aaron, impeccably dressed in his pressed suit in his nice office chair, hard in his pants only serves to turn you on more. You’re so wet you can feel it on the sheets, and when you press the vibrator against your opening you sigh in satisfaction.
“I usually-“ You suck in a breath, moving your hand a bit faster. “I usually use my fingers. Or another toy.”
“Like what?” When you don’t answer right away, Aaron chuckles, and the sound makes heat coil in your belly. “Don’t be shy now. Tell me.”
All the things you’ve done so far tonight and this is what makes you blush down to your toes. “It’s nothing special. Just a regular dildo. Don’t want to use it tonight though.”
“Why not?”
Because deep down you know it won’t compare to what you could be having.
“It-it takes some time. And I don’t feel like wasting any.” You click the speed button again, and it's much stronger this time. There’s only 4 settings, so you’re not surprised that this one really ups the ante.
“Fuck that’s-that’s good.”
“How’s this setting? Better?”
“Faster, more intense.” You rock the soft head against your clit more steadily now, rolling your wrist in time with your hips. There’s wetness on your fingers, and you do your best to keep a good grip on the toy as you start to get lost in the feeling.
You had originally wanted this to last, but with Aaron talking you through this you’ve found yourself closer to the edge far quicker than you expected.
And really, who could blame you? It’s not every day the man you’ve been pining for since the day you met him finally seems to be reciprocating those feelings outright, and he happens to be doing so by guiding you through getting yourself off, all in the name of product quality control.
Aaron keeps talking in your ear, hushed tones that feel intimate, even with him so far away.
“I’m so happy I get to help you feel good sweetheart, so happy I get to hear the sounds you make, you sound so sweet baby.”
“Jesus- Aaron I need to cum, please.”
“Soon baby, soon. One more speed, we need to test it all, remember?”
You click the button over to the final setting, and the vibrator practically jumps in your hand. It’s exactly how you like it when you’re this worked up; fast and strong, and you make quick circles around your clit, back arching against the bed.
“God yes, yes that’s it, s’good.”
“Go ahead, let it happen. Let Daddy hear it.”
And you do. You throw your head back and whine and let the pleasure take over as your chest heaves and you see stars.
Overstimulation comes quickly, and you turn off the vibrator, leaving it stranded in between your spread legs. It takes a moment or two to come back down to earth, but when you do, you can’t help but let out a giggle.
“So um, was that a good customer review?”
“I’d say 5 stars.”
You laugh at that, full bodied and loud, and Aaron does too. You hear some shuffling on his end, followed by a grunt.
“Sorry. Needed to do some….adjusting.”
“What, no ‘afternoon delight’ for you?”
“More like an ‘evening delight’ at this point.” You smile and roll your eyes. “But no not for me. I’ll save that for when I’m somewhere a little more…private.”
You bite your lip at the thought of him at home, taking care of himself with you on his mind.
“Maybe I can give you a call? When you’re somewhere more private.”
There’s a moment of silence, as if Aaron’s surprised by your offering, but there’s a hint of a smile in his voice when he responds.
“I think I’d like that.”
You two start exchanging sweet goodbyes so Aaron can return to work, but before you disconnect he stops you.
“Oh sweetheart-“
“Yes?”
“Next time you want to buy anymore….toys. Please, don’t hesitate.”
taglist: @sadgirlml @arsonhotchner @needinghotch @jaspxr @angelfxllcm @shyhotch @ssamorganhotchner @ashhotchner @anlin2058
#WELL!!!! I HOPE YALL LIKE IT!!! <333#aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner x female reader#.nsfw#my writing
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Prompt #10: Ghost
Inspired by this post
• Sonadow Prompt Fills •
• Ambience Music •
Content Warning: Implied Major Character Death (of a sort)
*
Green Hill is restored, but Shadow feels like the luscious greenery all around and clear blue skies above are mocking him. He skates from one end to the other day to day without aim. He does what he can to watch over the island, the planet, its life. He promised.
He promised Sonic he would take care of them.
Time blends into a shapeless, colorless blur, empty and sullen. The days turn to weeks that lack a certain spirit. They no longer experience intense, fiery rivalry between a remarkable pair of hedgehogs. Sonic’s friends try to go on to the best of their ability. Tails hasn’t given up, not entirely, but Shadow can see that it’s wearing him down. He practically has to bully the young fox into eating and sleeping some days.
Shadow should tell them that he’s still… seeing him.
He shouldn’t burden them.
They would just think he is insane.
Shadow uses Chaos Control each night to secretly enter the locked up obscured structure where the Paradox Prism is contained. He has to be near it. The night that he found out, he told Sonic’s friends… but for some reason it hadn’t worked for them. Though they didn’t express it in so many words, he could tell they believed he was just dreaming.
Maybe he is deluding himself, maybe has cracked.
It doesn’t stop him.
He rolls into a tight ball and clears his mind. The Prism energy seems to prickle through his quills. It took him a while to actually calm himself enough to sleep after the first time, where he had been unusually exhausted and had practically passed out. He exercises extensively, then drinks relaxing tea before evening. He avoids caffeine and sugar, and he meditates whenever he gets the chance.
The void materializes before him, and he rockets toward Sonic’s usual spot. Sonic immediately perks and smiles when he notices Shadow’s arrival.
“Shadow!”
The enthusiastic cry of his name is pleasing for his ears.
If Shadow doesn’t examine him too closely, Sonic looks completely solid. He isn’t a dream, he isn’t a ghost. He’s real, and Shadow can definitely still smell a mix of coconut and sweat on him. He would be able to hear his heartbeat and feel his breath, if he tried.
Shadow lands next to him at a reasonable distance. He can’t risk brushing against him… because he has an aversion, he tells himself, per usual. No other reason. Nevermind that touching Sonic recently became easier… before the disaster found its costly conclusion.
“Sonic.”
“How is everyone?”
“Well enough. I made sure Tails took a break.”
“Good… good.” Sonic taps his foot. “Um… so what have you been up to? Besides keeping an eye on the team.”
“Your team,” Shadow points out. “I… just run around, I guess, or brood, as you’d call it.”
Sonic scoffs and wags a disapproving finger at him. “Mister Diligence. Workaholic. Don’t you have any hobbies? I know you like music. Make sure to jam to your favorite tunes. Wait, I know! You should try gardening. You could grow your own veggies or flowers and bring me some - uh, forget that last part. Hey, you’ve been eating plenty of chili dogs for me, right?”
“When I can tolerate them,” Shadow admits.
“I’ll take it!” After a moment of silence, Sonic says in a low, gentle tone, “Thanks.”
Shadow briefly pushes his black and red quills back. “Yeah. You’re welcome.”
“Not just for… but for visiting me as well.”
Dread sinks into his stomach as Sonic darts forward and tries to hug him. He slips through Shadow, and Shadow shivers. It doesn’t feel like anything, and that’s what makes his fur stand on end. Sonic gives an awkward chuckle.
“Sonic…”
“I - man - I forgot.”
“You’re not real,” Shadow mumbles. “You’re a figment of my mind to make me feel like… I’m honoring your memory. Like I didn’t fucking fail.”
Sonic crosses his arms and frowns. Shadow hates it… he wants him to only smile… Why’d he have to ruin that? Shadow looks away. Whatever fucked up part of his brain keeps this charade going, it doesn’t allow him to manipulate Sonic to his preferences. Sonic’s pose is too reminiscent of his own tendencies.
It makes him feel even more like this specter is simply an extension of his broken mind and aching heart. It’s a twisted reflection created by his guilty subconscious to torture him.
“That’s not true. I am real. Don’t be so hard on yourself, asshole. You didn’t fail, you did your best. It’s not your fault! It was my choice. What happened, happened. You could’ve just… not bothered. Left the island or something. You’re a good friend, Shadow.”
“Friend… I’m no friend.”
“Keep telling yourself that.” Sonic places a hand on his hip. “We’re pals. Buddies. Amigos. Good old regular chums. Confidants, even. Face it. After everything, you can’t deny that.”
Shadow roars, “You’re dead or worse, a ghost trapped in an eternal void, you damn self-sacrificing hedgehog! I didn’t give myself a chance to appreciate what I had, what we could’ve had, until you were gone!!!”
You’re one to talk about sacrifice, a little voice in the back of his mind reminds him.
Sonic’s ears droop, and he flinches back. Shadow balls his hands into fists, wishing he could dig his claws into his palms through the gloves. He wishes he could actually hug Sonic, or at least punch him, whether he’s actually there or not. He wishes, not for the first time, to trade places with someone he loved.
He wants to remove his inhibitors and Chaos Blast this stupid, horrible limbo until he is totally drained.
“Never too late,” Sonic whispers, looking down and scuffing his shoe on the rock. “Plus it’s not so bad here really, since I get to see you, and I have plenty of time to think about how to be a better friend to everyone when I get back.”
“But it is. It is too late. It’s too late for me to love you like I should have,” Shadow insists.
Sonic’s head jerks up and his mouth falls open, his eyes searching Shadow’s hard stare. Shadow closes his eyes as Sonic steps forward, reaching as though to rest a hand on his face.
Shadow wakes up, chilly and alone in the dark cave. The world may not have truly ended, but it feels even more like a ghost in the shadows than it had when the Prism was shattered. Shadow and Sonic were shattered in its place, in different ways, instead.
*
#sonadow#sonadow prime#prompts#sonadow angst (without comfort)#sonic prime spoilers#just due to being a bit based off that one part of the final trailer#this got a little long owo#Shadow gaslights himself... or does he?#canon divergence; alternate universe#this is sure to age well in literally a day /s#he'll be fiiine they'd get him back ;)c#but if you want to imagine sadness go ahead
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take care of you (s.h.)
pairing: Steve Harrington x reader
summary: Steve helps take care of you when you're sick
contains: fluff, being sick(duh lol), language, jokes of dying, lmk if i missed something please
word count: 857
a/n: little blurb i forgot i even wrote a while back. i feel like I've been neglecting my Steve fics but hope you like this one xx
Stevie tag list: @neewtmas @reanimated-alice
nav
~~~~~~
you groan, rolling around the bed but no position you find is comfortable as lay in the bedroom.
the door opens quietly, and you see a familiar head peak through. “hi…” Steve whispers, testing his boundaries to see how upset you are with him. he feels terrible knowing you’re sick because he gave you the virus, having to nurse him back to health last week.
“hey.” you sigh, congested and achy, feeling all around miserable.
“can I get you anything?” he asks, happy you are no longer greeting him as “asshole”, a word he’s heard over the past couple days. he doesn’t take it to heart though, knowing you don’t actually mean it.
“unless you can take this pillow and shove it over my face until I stop breathing... no I don’t think so.” your breath is wheezy, a side effect you don’t recall Steve having but you think it’s just because you’ve been coughing quite a bit.
he crawls onto the bed, holding his arms out to you so you can wiggle your way into them. his cuddles always bring you comfort, the way he holds you just right and rubs your back gently.
“you’re burning up, baby.” the back of his hand is pressed against your forehead.
“yeah no shit.” you’re grouchy, but it’s not his fault. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that. and I’m sorry I keep calling you an asshole.”
“I know, it’s okay.”
“no it’s not. you don’t deserve to be treated like that.” you feel the tears forming in your eyes, knowing your extra emotional due to the inability to fall asleep lately.
“hey hey hey, don’t cry. I promise I know you don’t mean it. I know you’re feeling terrible.” he calms you, scratching your back and drying your face.
“I think being run over by a truck would feel better.”
“how about a nice, cool shower to help break this fever, huh?”
you nod, and he helps you up, pulling you behind him into the bathroom as you wrap the blanket back around your shivering body.
once in the bathroom you lean your back against the counter, Steve beginning to turn the shower on but not to your usual steam-producing temperature.
“that does not look nice.” you pout even though you know it’ll help. you made him take one when he was sick, now you’re stuck with the repercussions. Steve doesn’t disagree with you though, he knows it’s not fun but still proceeds to help you undress so you can step into the water.
“i’ll be right back, okay?” you nod at him through the glass shower door, shivering under the water.
‘right back’ is starting to feel like forever, and your achy legs are quivering like Jell-O, causing you to place your hand on the wall to hold yourself up. maybe it’ll be easier to sit.
the floor of the shower is much better, as you sit under the stream of the water and lay your head against the glass. your body has adjusted to the temperature and you’ve stopped shivering for the most part, though it’s still uncomfortable to feel so cold.
“hey uh… you're on the floor?” Steve finally come back into the bathroom.
“got tired.” you shrug, “can you turn off the water now?”
“of course, hun.” he quickly turns off the water and helps you stand, wrapping you up in a towel. “brought you some jammies.” oh how you love this man.
“thank you, baby.” using the towel to dry yourself off, you get dressed in the pajamas Steve brought you before trying to brush out your hair, struggling to get a knot out.
“want me to help?” you simply nod, handing him the hairbrush and he works the knot out of your hair. you don't even realize it’s out as he continues to brush through your now soft hair, the feeling so soothing and lovely. “thank you.”
“you like it?” he asks, referring to the feeling of someone taking care of you.
“I do. my mom used to comb through my hair when I was a kid. it brings back some nice memories.”
he places a kiss to the back of your head, “i'll have to do it more often.” you nod along, a yawn following, “let’s get you in bed, yeah?”
“m‘kay.” you sleepily agree as you start to leave the bathroom.
“do you need anything?” he asks you as he’s tucking you into the bed.
“maybe some water.” a smile is all it takes for you to realize you are the luckiest girl on the planet.
once he comes back into the room, water bottle in hand, he scoots you over and snuggles into the bed with you. his fingers gently scratch your head, something he noticed you did while he was sick or feeling sad. It’s nice to have things reciprocated.
“thank you for taking care of me.” you sigh into his chest, his steady breaths slowly lulling you to sleep.
“always, baby.”
as soon as he’s positive you’re asleep, he gently kisses the top of your head, whispering before he falls asleep himself, “I’ll always take care of you.”
#steve harrington#steve x reader#steve harrington x reader#steve stranger things#steve harrington fic#steve harrington blurb#steve harrington fluff
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Painting abbys nails has been in my mind for whatever reason for a bit now
this ,,, this is it
tw for girly ish reader ? idk some people get upset !
you rummaged through the bin of polishes your collected, searching for the color you’d been holding onto for her. it wasn’t a usual occasion, seeing as the paint wore off pretty quickly due to her hands on position, but you made the most of it when you could. “just a second, this thing needs to be organized— can’t find anything!” you hummed, finally seeing the maroon she preferred. “ah! got it!”
abby just chuckled, sitting cross legged before you, her hands sitting expectantly on your knees. she was used to your way of doing things, that being letting the reigns loose and letting you do what you needed to. whether that meant sitting as you dug through at least 30 glass bottles or letting you paint her fingers as well as her nails. it always turned out good, and it made you happy, so what the hell? “i was thinking about going to that, uh, beauty store?” she spoke, not sure if that phrase was quite right but continuing nonetheless. “manny said he saw like a dozen bottles just like those, could bring ‘em home for you.”
your eyes lit up, clutching the bottle to your chest as you nodded. “i could come with! we could do it together, like a date.” you giggled slightly, uncapping the bottle as you peered down to double check her pre-manicured nails— you’d made sure to do them before just incase you forgot. “i bet we could find more colors that you like!”
a small smile pulled at her lips, watching as you took her hand into your own. you brushed the paint onto the nail, getting it everywhere in the process, not that she minded much. her eyes lingered on the concentration scrunching your face, wondering how she could’ve possible gotten so lucky. “a date it is, then.”
#abby anderson blurb#abby anderson x reader#abby anderson x you#abby anderson x y/n#abby anderson#tlou2#misc
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Guys that bind
1500 words
Summary: Johnny fixes Danny’s binder.
There hadn’t been any ghost attacks in a couple days, and usually that would be amazing. A chance to hang out with his friends, or get some extra sleep, or even work on schoolwork. But it was winter break. There was no schoolwork to do, he already had plenty of time to sleep, his parents were constantly fighting, and with Tucker visiting his grandparents for a couple days and Sam spending the break in Portugal of all places, there was absolutely nothing to do except aimlessly float around town.
So of course when Danny’s ghost sense went off, he was happy, excited even, to have to find out what caused it. Luckily, he didn’t have to search long.
“Yo kid!” A snowball hit him square in the face. He wiped it off and looked around for the source before Johnny appeared from thin air right in front of him. “Up for a spar?”
“Sure.” He chirped before taking a closer look at Johnny. The guy looked like crap, his glow was dimmed a bit and there were slight bags under his eyes. “Dude, you don’t look too good. Whappened? Kitty break up with you again?”
Johnny charged up an ectoblast and started throwing it back and forth between his hands like a bouncy ball. “Naw, I think I forgot something important. Maybe an anniversary?” He tossed the blast at Danny who dodged and turned invisible before flying forward and throwing a punch at Johnny’s face. “Not the first date, or the first kiss, or our deathday.” He dodged the punch and kicked upwards, hitting Danny in the stomach, shocking him into turning visible.
“Birthday?” Danny asked, clutching his stomach and dropping a bit to shoot an ecto blast at Johnny from underneath.
“Last month.” He answered, shooting a blast from a finger gun at the blast Danny had made, knocking it off course, then dropping to try to bodyslam Danny.
Danny zoomed out of the way, and threw a blast at Johnny that he wasn’t quick enough to avoid. “Didn’t people used to do this whole big thing with a ring when they asked someone to be their partner? Could it be that?”
Johnny flew up and tried to punch the kid, but Danny turned intangible just in time for the fist to sail right through his head. “Fuck, that’s probably it. Date?”
Danny grabbed the fist and flung Johnny towards the ground. “It’s the seventeenth.”
Johnny shot up, barely catching himself before he hit the ground, then accelerated before twisting around to slam into Danny with his back. “Of what?”
Danny turned intangible, letting Johnny sail right through him. “Seriously?”
Johnny stopped his ascent and turned around to throw a couple ecto blasts at Danny, who lazily floated around them to avoid getting hit. “Kid, just tell me.”
Danny tapped his chin in mock thought. “Hmmmm, judging by the weather, the decorations all around us and the literal Christmas songs being played loud enough for us to hear from all the way over here, gosh I don’t know. Maybe it’s December?”
“Fuck, I’m an idiot.” Johnny facepalmed.
“I’ll say.” Danny moved to hover on his stomach in front of Johnny and flicked him in the forehead. “Who the heck forgets what month it is?”
“Oh shut up.” Johnny grabbed him by the back of his suit, and flung him down to the ground. Danny, not expecting It, didn’t have time to stop his fall. “Oh shit, what was that?”
“What was what?” Danny asked, picking himself up off the ground and brushing dirt off of himself.
“I felt a rip.” Johnny lowered himself to the ground to look Danny over for injuries. “I didn’t seriously hurt ya there, did…” He trailed off looking shocked. “Kid? Why do you have tits?”
“I have, uh, oh.” Danny quickly crossed his arms over his chest and hunched his back to try to hide them, but it didn’t really work that well with how form fitting his jumpsuit was. “Um, costume party?”
Johnny didn’t look too convinced. “Oh yeah? What’s the costume?”
“Me? No. My clone?”
“Wait a second.” Johnny held out his hands, cutting Danny off. “Are you one of those gender swappers?”
“What?”
Johnny sighed and put his hand on Danny’s shoulder. “Now kid, it’s nothing to be ashamed of. Even I sometimes want to be a chick. The fancy dresses, the makeup, I haven’t quite figured out how to manifest boobs yet. Props to you for figuring that out in your first year though?”
“Huh?”
“I’m sure we could find some girl stuff for you, and if you ever want to change your name-“
Danny frantically waved his hands in front of himself. “Hold on, there’s been a bit of a misunderstanding here. I don’t want to be a girl.”
Johnny paused, confused. “You don’t?”
“No.”
“Then what’s with that?” He pointed towards Danny’s chest, Danny immediately crossed his arms again to try and hide it.
“I think you ripped my binder.”
“Your what?”
Danny paused for a second to think. “A binder. It’s, uh, an article of clothing, it flattens them so it looks like I don’t have them.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah.”
They trailed off into an awkward silence before a look of realization washed over Johnny’s face. “I can fix it.”
“What?”
He sat down on the floor and grabbed a little box out of one of his coat pockets, reaching his other hand out towards Danny. “Here, hand it over.”
Danny turned his hand intangible and grabbed the binder through his jumpsuit and inspected it for a few seconds, looking over the damage, before hesitantly tossing it over to Johnny. Johnny opened the box and pulled out a needle and a spool of white thread. He fed the thread through the needle and pulled, measuring the length with his arm and cutting the thread from the spool with his teeth before separating the two ends to let them untwist themselves, and tying them together. “You’re really fucking lucky it only ripped at the seam.”
“What’s that mean?” Danny lowered himself down to hover in a sitting position just above ground.
“It means I’m just replacing stitches instead of adding new ones. There’s already a seam allowance here. There wouldn’t be a seam allowance if the fabric itself had ripped.”
“I have no clue what any of that means.”
“I’m gonna have to teach you how to sew then, or have someone else teach ya. It’s a valuable life skill, like cooking or cleaning or first aid.”
“I already know how to sew. Just, not fabric.”
“Sewing fabric and flesh are two different skills. Just because you know one doesn’t mean you know both.” Johnny reached the end of the rip and started to go back over the stitches he had already made.
They waited in silence for a bit while Johnny continued sewing the binder and Danny flicked rocks on the ground before Danny thought of another conversation starter. “So what did you mean back there?”
“About what?”
“Manifesting boobs?”
Johnny paused in his sewing for a bit to think. “Oh yeah, it’s a type of body manipulation, like how you can make your limbs and shit go all stretch armstrong. You can do that, right?”
“Yeah?”
“Alright, so with a bit of practice, you’ll be able to like, change your appearance for long periods of time. Like, you’re tricking your body into believing that that’s its natural state. I’m not that good at it, I’m still figuring out how to stretch myself, but if you ask around I’m sure someone would be able to help you out.” Johnny tied off the end of the string with the beginning before biting off the excess thread with the needle attached.
“That should probably hold pretty well, I mean, I did use close stitches and go around twice, so it shouldn’t break again anytime soon. But are you sure you should be fighting in this thing kid? Most of this fabric doesn’t seem too stretchy.” He held out the binder in front of him, making a show of trying, and failing to stretch it before tossing it over to Danny, hitting him in the face with it.
“Gee, thanks. Suddenly worried for my safety huh?” Danny snarked as he grabbed the binder from his face.
“Yeah, I mean, you are part human right? Or have I been misunderstanding this whole-” He gestured towards Danny. “Situation?”
“Yeah, but I’m still a ghost, so I don’t need to breathe and whatever damage it causes will just fix itself in like, an hour. You really don’t have to worry about it, I’ll be fine.”
Johnny looked at him skeptically before relenting. “If you say so. Shit, anniversary! Gotta get kitty something. You wouldn’t happen to know-”
Danny pointed down the street. “Three blocks that way, on your left, candy store. Turn right and two more blocks, toystore. They sell plushies.”
“Thanks, kid. And be careful!”Johnny yelled as he ran off.
“I’ll try.”
#Danny phantom#danny fenton#trans danny phantom#trans danny fenton#fic#fanfic#johnny 13#no angst#name is a pun on ties that bind#my fics
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