#i know this is really raw and. yeah. i have eyes. but here's the thing
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✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。what’s mine is yours
synopsis. suguru is a good best friend—he shares everything. just this once, he shares you too
word count. 2.1k (it's short i promise)
contents. fem! reader, reader is suguru's girlfriend, minors do not interact, virgin satoru <3, cuckolding, fingering, safe sex (who am i ?? jk suguru would not let satoru hit raw lol), petnames (princess, baby, and sweetheart), suguru teaching satoru how to fuck <3
notes. dash pls look away. i am horny at 1 am
satoru, for all his big talk and loud front all these years, is still a virgin. suguru finds it a tad bit funny—but out of the kindness of his heart, he decides to help his best friend change that.
how? you, of course.
“be careful how you handle her,” suguru says with a sly smile, “she’s still my girlfriend—and i have to take care of her. isn’t that right, baby?” his gaze turns to you, finger stroking your cheek gently as you whimper.
“so wet,” satoru mumbles, fingers sinking curiously into your dripping cunt, flexing slowly to pump in and out of you as you whine. his fingers are long, maybe longer than suguru’s—but not nearly as skilled.
“yeah?” suguru chuckles, “bet you like that, huh? careful though, satoru—don’t get used to this. she’s still mine.”
suguru, the ever gracious best friend, has always been one to share. he decides perhaps he can extend the favor to include his girlfriend too—but you’re precious, sweet and kind and oh so doting. he can’t share you permanently. no, it’s a one time thing—after that, satoru will have to find his own perfect little pussy to savor.
“you really get all of this? all to yourself?” satoru marvels, thumbing your clit as you gasp, your hand reaching over to clutch at suguru’s pants. his hand rests over yours, thumb brushing over your knuckles as he hums soothingly.
“yeah,” your boyfriend grins, “every day. whenever i want. right, baby?”
“uh huh,” you nod—and then you cut yourself off with a squeal when satoru’s fingertips brush against that sweet spot deep within your walls, making you flutter around him with a tight squeeze. he doesn’t find it as easily as suguru, doesn’t know how to angle and curl the tips of his fingers when he sinks into you.
and fuck, satoru thinks, suguru is so damn lucky.
“she’s a vocal one,” he chuckles, “you’ve been living the dream.”
“you should hear her when you use your mouth,” suguru chuckles—how embarrassing. you want to crawl onto his lap and hide away in his neck, hide away from satoru’s eyes that are watching you so carefully. satoru has good eyes—the best, even.
but you also like it. for some reason, when his eyes stare down at you with a darkened shade of blue you’ve never seen before, you feel the slick pooling from your core, smearing down your thighs and glossing over his fingers, wetter than ever.
satoru has that effect on people—even if he is a bit inexperienced.
“do i get to do that too?” he asks, sending your boyfriend a lopsided smirk.
suguru raises a brow, tightening his hand’s grip on yours before grunting a low, “don’t get ahead of yourself, satoru.”
“you said it yourself, suguru,” he chuckles, “what’s mine is yours.”
“not her,” suguru growls. and then, sweetly, he turns to you before pecking your forehead with a gentleness he keeps for only you. “you ready, princess?”
“princess,” satoru repeats thoughtfully, “yeah i guess you’re a bit of a princess, aren’t ya?”
“p-please,” you sniffle, tugging on suguru’s wrist, “need more, sugu.”
“yeah? he’s not doing his job, is he?” suguru pouts in sympathy, but his eyes are laced with amusement—like he’s enjoying the show in front of him. you’re sure he is, if the throbbing erection he sports is of any hint.
“hey,” satoru gasps, wounded, “i’m doing exactly what you told me—”
“here,” suguru throws him a condom, cutting him off, “put that on. you’re out of your mind if you think you’re feeling her. that’s only for me.”
“fine,” satoru huffs. you watch as he rolls the condom over his neglected cock—it’s red, swollen and aching, flushed at the tip and drooling with pre cum as he hisses when his hand wraps around it.
it’s pretty, you’ll give him that. satoru isn’t as thick as suguru, but he makes up for it by being a bit longer. he curves a bit with a thick vein running along the underside of his cock, balls heavy as they hang painfully, achingly full. he’s neatly trimmed—messy white strands of hair unlike suguru’s dark ones. you don’t know which one you prefer, if you could even pick one of you had to.
you watch with wide, fascinated eyes as his mouth parts with a low gasp when he accidentally teases the tip a bit as he clumsily works the rubber over himself. he’s sensitive at the head—just like suguru. gives those sweet little breathy whimpers when his slit is thumbed at. it’s cute, you think, maybe not as cute as suguru—but it’s still pretty adorable.
“go slow when you go in,” suguru warns, “if you hurt her, i’ll kill you.”
“she’s tough, she can take it,” satoru pats your cheek with a sly grin, “aren’t you, princess?”
“watch it, satoru,” you hear suguru growl, “don’t get too comfortable.”
“aw, it’s all in good fun, right? she’s taking it so well.”
you do take it well—you let satoru’s fingers play with your for ages, let him learn where to find that sensitive spot is in the back of your walls, let him rub your clit slowly—even if you ache for those fast circles suguru always gifts you with. and now, you’re even letting him slide into you, slowly but surely, inching his hardened cock into your impatiently wet cunt with agonizing patience.
“that feel good, baby?” suguru asks you once satoru’s buried to the hilt, splitting you almost in two as you breathe unevenly and nod. and satoru? well, he’s not faring any better—grit teeth and clenched jaw, panting harshly as he focuses on not cumming right then and there.
you’re tight—way tighter than his hand, and way warmer too. fuck suguru for making him wear the condom, and fuck suguru for landing such a perfect pussy too. he doesn’t know how he’s meant to go back to using his fist after a taste of this.
“you can move now—go slow at first, and then go faster when she’s close. she likes that. and don’t forget this,” suguru’s hand travels to your clit, giving a soft little pat that makes you whimper before he rubs it with those quick circles you love so much. “she likes when you touch this too. they all do—so when you get yourself your own girl to fuck, make sure you remember that.”
“i know what the clit is,” satoru grumbles, “i’ve watched porn, y’know.”
“i bet,” suguru chuckles, “is this your first time seeing a clit in person? pretty, isn’t it? everything about her is pretty.”
“suguru,” you whine in embarrassment, burying your head back into the pillow as much as you can, “you talk so much.”
“baby,” he insists, “someone has to humble him. he’s all bark and no bite.”
“i can too bite,” satoru grunts—and to prove it, he angles his hips to pull out, almost completely, before thrusting back into you. you cry out—clutching suguru’s hand tightly as your tits bounce. satoru let’s out a choked moan, gasping as you squeeze around his sensitive cock, eyes fluttering shut with pleasure.
it’s so good. suguru has it so good. you’re so good—perfect, even.
“f-fuck, more, need more,” you sob, and because suguru can’t help himself, his hand grabs at your tit, pinching and tugging at your nipple as he lets you squeeze his other hand in yours. “please, please—faster.”
“you heard her,” suguru hums, “she needs it faster.”
satoru’s good at fucking you—for his first time, he’s got your back arching and toes curling rather quickly. the blunt head of his cock brushes against your sweet spot with ease, long and curved enough to nudge against it with every roll of his hips. of course, no one knows how to fuck you until you see stars like suguru—but he comes to a close second.
your gasps have turned into long, wanton moans, and satoru moans in sync, head falling next to yours on the pillow as his breath fans over your shoulder with every harsh pant. his hips are rutting into you, slamming desperately as he feels you squeeze around him with every deep thrust. you can hear the squelching sound of your arousal as he bullies into your dripping cunt, smeared along the insides of your thighs. it’s messy, it’s rushed, it’s desperate and it feels so, so good.
satoru has never felt this good—and you? well….you have to admit you’ve never felt like this before either. it’s new, maybe not better, but certainly not worse.
“oh, fuck,” satoru groans, voice cracking as he whines against your shoulder, “f-fuck your so tight—‘s so good. so, so good….’m not g-gonna last much longer.”
“are you close, baby?” suguru strokes your cheek, watching as your eyes squeeze and your face twists in pleasure, “can’t have him be the only one cumming. that’s no good.”
“close! ‘m…’m so close, sugu. gonna cum,” you gasp as you nod.
if satoru wasn’t so lost on the feeling of your tight walls constricting around him, fluttering so perfectly that he almost feels like he can’t move, he might have protested that you addressed suguru and not him—he’s the one fucking you after all. it should be him you’re telling that you’re close, not your boyfriend. just because suguru is your boyfriend doesn’t mean he’s the one who gets to bear the reward for making you cum.
right now, that’s satoru.
“aw c’mon, sweetheart, you’re gonna—o-oh, shit,” he cuts himself off with a breathy moan, “you’re gonna make me cry. say my name too, yeah?”
“satoru,” suguru warns lowly.
“see? jus’ like that. yeah, pretty? say it just how suguru did,” satoru, murmurs against your ear, biting your earlobe softly.
your hand, much to suguru’s dismay, tugs from his grasp so your arms can wrap around satoru’s neck and cling to his large figure as he towers over you, fucking you mercilessly. his pace is frenzied now—that steady ache building up in his throbbing length is about to burst, and that coil in your belly feels like it’ll snap any second too.
“s-satoru, please—‘m c-close, so close,” you mewl, “wanna cum.”
he grins, blue eyes raking over your body as his thumb finds your clit and rubs harshly over it in that way you’ve been craving.
“yeah? you close, pretty? ‘s good to hear. i am too,” he murmurs lowly, finishing the sentence off with a shaky gasp as you squeeze around him.
and then you fall over the edge—he sends you hurtling into your high before you can ever register it. it’s new, satoru thinks—it makes his hips stutter for a second when he feels you spasm around his cock like that, sucking him in and squeezing around him enough that he chokes on a whimper and cums right then and there too. he thinks it’s a miracle he held out just long enough to cum after you, thanking anyone who’s listened to his prayers of lasting. it’s almost impossible not to finish immediately with how your walls hug around his length.
by now, his hips have lost any rhythm they might’ve had before, sloppily rutting into you as he desperately rides out his orgasm, thick ropes of cum spilling into the condom that separates him from fully feeling your warmth. he’s sensitive—his cock is throbbing even as he lets go of that built up tension in the form of white, hot release. you milk him until he’s almost certain he’s got nothing left to give, dry and worn out from the way you pulse so harshly around him.
“so good—m-make me feel so good,” satoru breathes in wonder as he finishes, thumb slowing itself along your clit before his body slumps over yours.
it’s hot, it’s sweaty, it’s a mess of limbs as he rests over you, still quivering over your body from the aftershocks of his orgasm. it’s earth shattering—how you make him feel. has he really been missing out on this all this time?
“you’re heavy,” you grumble, patting at his shoulder. he chuckles into your neck, catching his breath.
“yeah? heavier than suguru?”
“i’m careful enough to collapse next to her,” suguru mutters from the side.
“fuck, that was amazing,” satoru rolls over, sprawling himself on the mattress next to you, chest heaving as he breathes, “i see why suguru spoils you so much. you keep him happy, huh?”
“oh yes,” suguru drawls, eyes narrowing. gently, he grabs your wrist and tugs at you, making you sit up as you eye the bulge in his pants and the large wet spot of pre cum staining the fabric. “you’ll see just how happy she makes me in a second here—she’s good with her mouth too.”
idk what possessed me to write this i rly don't. all i know is i want them both carnally
NO PART TWO — please STOP commenting that
#teepods.writings#thirstee!#fics.#gojo x reader#gojo smut#gojo x you#geto x reader#geto x you#geto smut#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jjk smut#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru x you#gojo satoru smut#geto suguru x reader#geto suguru x you#geto suguru smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen smut
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Simple Math / Part Ten
Simple Math masterlist
Ghost/Soap/female reader
5.4k words - AO3
Warnings-tags: 18+ MDNI. Masturbation, dirty (self) talk, brief daddy kink. This fic contains mature themes. Domestic violence. Grooming. Feelings of fear and anxiety. Nurse!reader. Kissing. Lots of dialogue. Bun considers making a friend. Penny is cute. Flirting. Touching. Comfort. Bun refers to herself as "heavy". Simon is Simon. POV switch.
Dinner date.
“I’m Philip.”
The handsome brunette smiles, grabbing onto your hand. You blink, trying to understand, trying to make it make sense, when he prompts you with a teasing grin. “This is the part where you tell me your name, sweet thing.”
Oh. You stumble over it, tongue tied into a million knots, sweat from the Texas sun beating down your back, sweat slicking your shirt to your skin.
He’s still holding your hand, and you’re standing there with wide, doe eyes, shell shocked.
He’s… so handsome. And older. Older, and handsome. Polished type, with good teeth and good hair. He looks like he just stepped off the golf course.
Why is he talking to you?
He glances down at your drink.
“You even old enough to be drinkin’ that?”
“I-“ You’re terrible at lying, and like he can read it on your face, he chuckles.
“You live around here?”
“I go to Rice.”
“A bit young for college, aren’t you?”
“I just turned eighteen!” You’ve heard it a million times. You’re too young to understand something, or know something, or do something. You don’t get the way the world works yet. You’re not an adult.
He holds his hands up. “I’m sorry. I bet you’re one of the really smart girls that make all us men look like Neanderthals.” Your face heats.
“N-no. I just… I graduated early. I’m not a know it all.” You defend yourself, desperate to create distance from the usual stereotype, the way most people see you. The way boys see you.
Too smart. Face buried in a book. Awkward and stiff. Uncool.
He traces you from head to toe, appreciative gaze grazing over the swell of your hips, the generous curve of your ass. “I didn’t think you were. Too mature for that, I bet.” He croons, and your knees go weak.
“Y-yeah. A lot of people say I’m really mature.”
Two things compete for your attention when you open your eyes.
One: there is a soft, lovely song playing downstairs, something spring-like and sweet, vibrant without being too loud.
Two: the house smells like pancakes.
You check your phone, shocked to see you’ve slept for yet another 12 hours. There’s a text from Nia, and a text from your boss.
>You have a lot of time accrued. Take as much as you need.
That settles that, you guess.
There are also text messages in the group chat, one from Simon, and one from Johnny, coming in only a few minutes ago.
Simon: >Penny gets pancakes on Saturday mornings. They’ll be plenty, come down and eat when you’re ready.
Johnny: >I’m missing all the good stuff.
You stretch, cautiously, wiggling fingers and toes, spreading your limbs as far as you can without pushing it too much. You’re sore, uncomfortably so, and still exhausted, but if you stay in bed any longer, you’ll rot.
In the kitchen, Simon holds Penny and a mixing bowl, alternating hands to get a whisk through the batter while humming to his daughter on her hip.
You stop dead in your tracks.
He’s… he’s not wearing the mask.
You stare at his face, his whole, naked face for the first time, taking in the broad jaw, every shiny white scar, and his (twice, if you had to guess) healed broken nose. He’s handsome, differently from Johnny but no less striking, and you can’t look away, stunned by his raw, depthless and rugged beauty. Penny’s leg has kicked up the hem of his shirt, exposing his midsection, and the flash of skin there feels like a scandal, something you shouldn’t be seeing but cannot get enough of. He looks nothing like you expected and yet… everything you hoped for.
“Morning.” Pen tucks her face into his chest shyly, peeking out from the corner of her eye, curious and cute. “Can you say good morning to bunny?” He bounces her a little, and she giggles.
"Bunny." She says quietly, and Simon laughs.
“That’s right. Good job.” After a second of silence, you try to ask him about the missing mask, but the question gets confused on your tongue, and what comes out instead is clumsy and stunted.
“Your mask.” You cringe, immediately. It’s the first thing that slips loose, insensitive, and uncouth. “I uh, I’m sorry, I’m just… surprised?” you falter, and makes it worse. You think about trying to run back upstairs, hightailing it for the hills when he smiles, and points to the empty stool at the kitchen counter with a batter covered whisk.
“Sit.” There’s already a stack piled high, plain, and ones with big, juicy blueberries. Your favorite.
“So, pancakes every Saturday?”
“Mhmm.” He settles Penny in her highchair to your left, and pulls an already cooled pancake from the stack, cutting it up into little, tiny pieces with a child’s knife and fork. “Pen and her Da,” he pads some butter across the top of his handiwork, grabbing her sippy cup and filling it with milk. “Have pancakes every Saturday when he’s home. It’s their favorite. Right?” He points at her, “your favorite?” and taps his middle finger to his chin, others outward, straight up. “Your favorite?” Signing?
“Are you teaching her sign?”
“Trying to. Pen’s birth mum is deaf. It’s important to us, that she’s able to connect with her when the time comes. Plus, my hearing is shot. So is Johnny’s. It’s a great way for her to communicate with us.” He strokes some fingers through her curls, and she doesn’t even look up, too busy shoveling as much pancake into her mouth as she can. You have a million questions now, curiosities bubbling to the surface, about Pen’s mum, about her life, about how she came to be their child. All too rude, and too invasive to ask. “Or, to use when she’s feeling sassy and can’t find the words. That happens, too.”
“She’s what…sixteen months?” You watch her intently, unable to not smile when she cheeses at her dad with a mouthful of food, even though your tender skin stings with the movement.
“Yeah. Top percentiles in a lot of things for her age. Said her first word before she was one.” He’s rich with pride, a deep well of love shining in his eyes, and you force your own down to the plate, stifling the ache bleeding from your heart.
“Of course she is.” Penny holds pieces of sticky, syrupy pancake with both hands, attacking them with vigor, smearing her cheeks purple with the squished blueberries.
You need to eat something, but your brain is buzzing, unnatural discomfort stretching long in the back of your mind.
What’re you doing? Sitting here eating pancakes like everything is normal? Like everything’s okay?
Everything is not okay.
You drift, back to your apartment, back the venom of Phillip, the hands around your neck, the twist of your shoulder, back slamming into the wall. You can still feel him, still hear him, these memories like all the others, your body beaten on the floor, mind nearly broken. Trying to shift away from the hot end of a cigarette, screaming for help, running through a-
A hand covers yours.
He coaxes the fork from your fingers, metal vibrating within flesh.
“I think… I think I should go back to bed.” You whisper.
“Are you tired?”
“No… yeah. I don’t know.”
“You don’t have to run away, you know.” He flips a pancake onto your plate from the stack. “Just because you were somewhere else for a little bit.” Your cheeks burn. “We’ve got a pretty nice couch in the living room though, if you want some time alone and don’t feel too keen on the stairs.” Saturday morning pancakes and curling up on the couch? It sounds so nice, so normal, and must show on your face, because he chuckles. “Help yourself. You might have to share the TV though, in a bit. We watch baby Einstein on Saturdays, and she’ll need some entertaining for a minute while I get ready.” Your lips twist, an entire hearth lighting up in the bottom of your heart.
“Alright.”
Baby Einstein is as enthralling as you thought it would be, though Penny disagrees. She stares at the screen, wide eyed, open mouthed, sippy cup long forgotten, and even Simon struggles to get her attention after returning from getting dressed.
You force your eyes away from the strain of his thighs in blue jeans.
“We’re goin’ down to the hospital.” He tells you, pulling her upward over the back of the couch and rubbing his nose through her curls. It’s still… weird, to see his whole face. To clearly watch his expressions, sublime bliss pushing his mouth upward whenever he looks at his daughter. “Want to come?”
“I can’t, not if I’m taking time off. It… looks bad to admin. I can probably go in at night but, during the day is just a recipe for disaster.”
“Of course.” He looks around, for what you don’t know, shoulders tensing, then relaxing. “Well, you’ve got the remote. And my number. Are you… going to be, okay? Alone?”
Say yes.
You can’t. All you can do… is nod.
“Okay well if you’re not. Just call.” You nod again, getting to your feet. Once you’re standing, you’re out of place, flailing in their living room, about to be here alone, with your memories, your poisoned mind.
What’re you doing? You’ve ruined everything. Broken all your rules.
“We can stay.” Simon steps close, hand grazing the middle of your back, and you shake your head.
“No, no- I… I’m sorry.”
“You don’t-“
“Yes, I do.” Your voice shakes, and you slam your eyes shut. You can’t do this. “I shouldn’t be here. I’m putting you in danger, and I… I’m putting myself in danger and I’m being so- so stupid, Simon.” His gaze is heavy, serious, and he steps around you, sliding Penny into her bounce seat, turning it to face baby Einstein.
“Listen to me.” As he returns, he reaches, carefully pulling you close, close enough you’re nearly in his chest, timing the rise and fall of his diaphragm. “We are safe, you are safe, sweetheart. ‘m not going to let anything happen to you, or Penny, or any of us. Alright?”
“You don’t understand.”
“Tell me.” You almost laugh, but something comes over you instead, something delirious and desperate. You lean into him, letting him hold you, hand smoothing over the back of your head. “You can tell me. You can trust us. We’ll take care of you.”
God, you want to. You want to so bad it aches, burns a ravenous fire in your heart. You want tell him, let them in. Tell them everything.
“Bun.” He murmurs, bringing you back, a finger under your chin.
“I can’t. I’m sorry, I can’t. It’s… it’s too much.”
“It’s alright.” He soothes, but doesn’t pull away, and you’re drawn in like a magnet, rising to the balls of your feet, stuck in a trance, luring you closer.
He meets your halfway.
And then-
He’s kissing you, plush lips on yours, pancakes and fresh laundry and stained-glass windows of sanctuary on his tongue.
You’re standing in the sun, in the trance of another spell.
It’s a mouthful of butterscotch and maple. Sweet, delicious breakfast in bed, lazy Saturday mornings and whispered, tender words. It’s life unlike your own, a home, the promise of a love not fractioned, chipped away, or strangled… but multiplied, magnified. His touch is painfully gentle, slow and easy, encouraging you to follow his lead, carefully constructing a tiny universe to disappear to, where shadow cannot touch. A fantasy, cocoon of stars, ambrosial and sacrosanct, an escape from the hell nipping at your heels, the hell chasing you through your dreaming and waking hours.
The anxious hum radiating through every cell in your body flatlines.
The girl in the mirror weeps.
Everything goes silent. Your breathing slows. Your hands fall to the side, listless and stunned.
Penny grunts. The moment shatters.
You can only stare with wide, terrified eyes.
“Johnny.” It’s the first word out of your mouth, the only thing you can conjure. “I’m sorry, I don’t know… I’m sorry.” Johnny. Johnny’s not here. How can he kiss you when his partner isn’t here? His heart will be broken, you’re destroying their family, you’re-
“I kissed you, bunny. Nothin’ to be sorry about.” Simon hums, still holding your face. “Johnny’s okay. He’ll be a bit jealous he didn’t get one too, but he won’t be upset.”
“How?” the question squeaks, and he takes your hand, tugging you towards the couch, settling you back into the cushions, easily guiding you with deft hands. He's so careful, so gentle, the touch of a man who raises a daughter, who loves his partner, adroit and nimble, anticipating movement before it happens.
“After Penny goes down tonight, let’s have a drink. Or some late dinner. We can talk, and I’ll answer as many of your questions as I can. How’s that sound?” He strokes a thumb across the apple of your cheek. Talking can’t hurt, can it?
“O-okay. Yeah.” You try to shrug, pain lancing through your shoulder, and you try to smother your wince. He frowns.
“I want you to get some rest today.” A small grin creeps across your face.
“You always tell people what to do?” He nods, solemn.
“It’s my job. Takin’ care of you lot is an added bonus.” He breezes by the grouping of you with his family, like it’s a normal thing, rubbing circles in your palm. “Let’s get you comfortable.”
“I can-“
“I’m here. Let me help.” You don’t say anything at first. Can’t say anything, can’t formulate a response that encompasses everything you’re thinking and feeling, stuck on the mile high wall that is your fear and denial, afraid to jump. Afraid to fall.
He doesn’t push. Doesn’t ask you to respond, He just… settles you, cautiously arranging the pillows to support your injuries, lets you sit there atop the wall, staring down at the ground where they wait. Patiently. He rubs your back and your good shoulder until you’re drifting away in heady, hazy dream world, unable to stir when he slips free, tucking the blankets in around you, and pressing another long, lingering kiss to your brow.
You wake in a panic to the doorbell ringing. Your heart races, and you’re up off the couch, tucked around a corner of the hall, hiding, in a blink, even though your shoulder and neck scream at the sudden change of position.
Breathe. You’re losing it. Philip wouldn’t ring a doorbell.
The door clicks open.
“Hello?” A woman’s voice echoes to where you’re still curled around the hallway, back pressed flat, eyes closed. “Hello? Anyone home?” Who is that?
You peek, like a child. Peering around to see a familiar woman with grocery bags in her hands, depositing them on the kitchen counter.
She spots you immediately.
“Hi!” She’s grinning, pretty and bright, pulling a carton of milk from a brown paper bag and putting it in the fridge. “I’m Lou. Sorry, did I scare you? I tried to ‘announce’ myself.” She makes bunny ears with her fingers before and after the word announce, with half of an eye roll. “John’s always telling me I have to when I come over. Can’t be giving anyone surprises, and I knew you were here. Just wasn’t sure if you’d be up for visitors. Sorry if I gave you a fright.”
“No, I…” you trail off, readjusting, giving her your name. She nods and smiles again. “I remember you. In front of the elevator that day.”
“Yeah, that was me.” She’s earnest in her focus, beaming at you, almost like she’s excited.
“You look a little different out of your cute scrubs.” That gives you a small laugh, and you smile honestly at her, flattered.
“Thanks.”
“Sorry if I’m disturbing you.”
“Oh no, you’re not. I was just… I’m fine.” She pulls a flat of eggs free and stacks them next to a colorful pile of produce.
“I do the store runs for Simon right now. It’s too much, with Johnny in hospital and taking care of Pen. We’ve been trying to lighten his load.” Guilt twists. And here you are, adding onto it.
“That’s very nice of you.” She waves it off.
“They’ve kept my husband alive a million times over. It’s the least I can do.”
“Right… they… work together?”
“Simon is semi-retired but yeah. They’re in a global task force. It’s the four of them. Have you met Kyle yet?”
“Oh, yeah. At the hospital one day.”
“Best guy, really.” Her clothes swish, warm and sweet aura practically glowing.
“Yeah, he was really nice.” She rests her hands on her hips and looks you over.
“You okay?” This woman is direct. She's got a no nonsense approach, and through intense, there's true ardor in her, passion and care.
“Yeah, I’m just… still recovering.” You don’t know what she knows, not sure what they’ve told her or John, so you’re not sure how much, or what even, to say.
“Simon told us, about you being mugged. I’m so sorry, it’s just awful.” She’s sincere in her sympathy, big brown eyes sad and considerate.
“It’s okay, thank you. I’m okay.”
“If you need anything, I’m always around. Or if you want to talk to another girl that isn’t a toddler.” It’s an olive branch of friendship, you realize, or the beginnings of, and you’re startled, considering it, wondering if it would be so bad… to have a friend.
“Thank you.” She gives you her number, and you tap it in, shooting her a text with your name.
“You should sit.”
“I can help with these.”
“No, no. No offense, but you look half asleep. I’ve got it.” You laugh even though it hurts, awkward half shrug with good shoulder, and agree.
“Yeah, I’m still recovering. It’s been slow.”
“I’m sure.” You sit at the counter, watching her organize the fridge with scary efficiency. “I’ll be out of your hair in a minute. Just had to drop these off.”
“Oh, you’re fine.” It’s nice. You’re nice. She feels safe, the proximity to Simon and Johnny naturally leading you to feel comfortable, knowing she’s welcomed by them, she’s a part of their life. It makes you feel more at ease, and you try to convey it without getting tangled up in awkward words.
You don’t know how. Not really sure how to make genuine friends anymore, so you just sit there and watch, listening to her talk, enjoying how she rambles a little bit, laughing at herself.
When she says goodbye at the door, she promises to text you the next time she’s coming by, so you’re not surprised, and you linger there, watching her go, wondering if it’s real, surprisingly mourning the loss of companionship already.
“Johnny misses you.” The ice in Simon’s rocks glass clinks together as he sips his bourbon, corner of his mouth lifting in a partial smirk. “Not too fond of his new nurse, I’m afraid. Think he’s spoiled now.”
“How is he?” You’re on the edge of your seat for an update, but not wanting to pry too much. It’s a delicate line, one where you don’t know on which side to stand.
“Good. Wrist fracture is nearly healed, so he’ll be able to start on crutches soon. Once he does, he’ll be doing physical therapy for most of his day, and ready to come home. Should be soon.” He really smiles now, and you mirror it, unable to deny the infectious bloom of happiness spreading from him to you.
“And his liver?”
“No complications. Grafts for his burn are in great shape. Hip is the trickiest part.”
“Yeah, they take a lot longer to heal, but I’m sure he’ll do a great job of it, just like everything else.”
“Thanks to you.” You sip your wine, citrusy peach and passionfruit coating your tongue. It’s a nice bottle, and you were surprised when Simon brought it home, bag of takeaway in one arm, Penny in the other.
“No.” Your cheeks heat. “I was just there. You guys did the hard work.”
“Wouldn’t have made it without you though. Think I would’ve lost it. Him too.”
“You would’ve been fine.” You brush it off, and he shakes his head.
“You’re too modest.” He drains his pour, uncapping the bottle on the coffee table between you and refilling it halfway. Glass on glass chimes, and you sink deeper into the couch, relaxing, tucking your knees up until you’re half curled into a ball, wine glass cradled between your palms.
“So…”
“I told you; you can ask me whatever you like.” You knew this was the case, but hesitance is still brimming in your heart, uneasy feelings festering beneath your skin, burning question shoving to the surface.
“Did you tell Johnny we kissed?”
“I did.”
“Was he upset?”
“Only because he feels like he’s missing out. I told him we’d make it up to him.” Fire enflames your skin. We?
“And by we you mean… us. Together. Like… the three of us.”
“I do.” The girl in the mirror screams. She doesn’t understand, why you continue to act against her better judgement. Why you’re entertaining something so, so dangerous, something so stupid.
“Simon, I… I can’t.”
“You keep saying that but look where you are, bun.” He motions to the table, takeaway cartons scattered across the top, half empty bottle of wine, his bourbon, and a baby monitor. It looks like a nice night in, a simple, sweet life, not even close to being your own.
Still, the girl in mirror combats. Still.
“This isn’t… this isn’t a thing it’s just… we’re hanging out. I’m not going to be here forever, I’m looking for a place and I-“ His face changes, flicker of shadow fading across his brow before being chased away by the sunlight in his eyes. You thought he'd be easier to read, without the mask, imagined you'd be able to place his expressions but you're just as confused and lost as ever.
“Slow down. There’s no need to look for a place to live.”
“W-what?” The wine has made you a little slow, a little sleepy, and you blink through the stupor.
“You’re still healing, sweetheart, and I know you're scared. I’ve known since the first day you stepped into Johnny’s room.”
“No.” You shake your head. Pain fizzles, numbed by alcohol, and your head swims.
“I know you weren’t mugged.” How? “I know you’re running from someone.” Oh god. The urge to get to your feet and bolt washes over you like a wave.
“I- I’m not.” The lie is bare-boned, pathetically unconvincing, and you know it. He knows it too; you can tell by the look on his face.
“You’re not ready to tell me, that’s fine. I’m patient. But you won’t be going anywhere if I don’t know you’re safe. And right now, to me, it doesn’t seem like you’re safe.” The pale yellow of your wine shines in the low lights of the living room, and you get lost in it, swirling around in his words, trying to put them together and pick them apart, desperate to understand what he means.
“Are you… are you saying you won’t let me leave?” You gulp. It’s a ridiculous conclusion, but the first one you jump to.
And in that, you know you’re giving too much away.
His face softens, and he reaches, pulling your free hand into his own, petting some sort of sequence into your skin.
“Of course not, sweetheart. I’d never, ever force you to do something you didn’t want to do. But I do want you to stay, here with us. Where we can keep you safe, take care of you.”
“I don’t need-“
“I know you don’t. I know you take care of yourself just fine.” The indignant roar in the back of your mind settles. “But I’d love an opportunity to do it instead.”
“Simon…”
“Did you know the cells in our body hold onto trauma? They carry imprints of traumatic events. It can change your biology, the way you function.” He squeezes your hand. “It’s hard to realize… that it’s not normal, the way you might be, the way you think, or do things, when you’re carrying the physical memory of terrible things.” He’s not talking about you. There’s a fleeting flash of sadness in his eyes, ghosts circling the drain around his irises, and your heart aches. “We can help you. I don’t know who you’re hiding from, but I can guess what they’ve done- look at me.” You force your eyes back to him, and he cups your cheek. “You do not have to be afraid here. You are safe with me, with us. I know you don’t believe it, and I’ll tell you as many times you need, but it will never not be true. We can help you.”
“You don’t know… you don’t know what you’re saying.” Your denial is steadfast. They cannot possibly understand.
A small seed of light blooms under darkness. It’s the sun, struggling to break free, trying to drag you into its warm, golden rays. It tugs and tugs, clawing towards you, illuminating the path forward.
The words come out before the girl in the mirror can stop them.
“You don’t know him. He’s sick and… powerful. He’s a monster but he’s smart, has connections, has ways of doing things that… I don’t even know. He’d kill you.” You clap your hand over your mouth in shock, surprised at yourself. It’s the most you’ve said about Philip in years.
You expect pushback. Expect Simon to flinch, or cower, or have good sense… a rational reaction to being told someone might try to hurt him.
He smiles instead, settling back on his side of the couch.
“I’d just have to get to him first, then.” Is he… is he? Simon watches you, reaches into your brains to peer inside, rooting around in your head. The way he looks at you, like he knows everything you’re feeling, can see what you're thinking, makes you shiver, makes you feel like you’re a tiny mouse in the shadow of a mountain. He sighs. “Give us a chance.”
“A chance?”
“A chance, to know you. Let us in, let us try. Stay here, with us, spend time with me and Johnny and Pen. No strings attached. If you decide it’s not for you… we’ll understand.”
No strings attached.
You could pick up and leave if you wanted. If you had to.
What’re you doing?
“How does it work? Would we all…” you trail off, confused.
“Date?” Simon finishes gently. “Yes.”
“So, you guys are… bi?” He chuckles.
“Yes, sweetheart. We’re bi.”
“Is this… a thing? Something you guys do?”
“We’ve never taken another partner before, no.” Your eyes widen. “You’re our first.” You don’t know why, but knowing is exhilarating and terrifying, all at the same time. You’re their first.
He’s talking about it like it’s already happened.
Fatigue settles in around you, thick fog of it draping over your shoulders and clouding your head.
“I… I don’t know.” You stifle a yawn. “I need to think.” He abandons his perch for one next to you, pulling your wine glass free and setting it on the table.
“Tired?” His fingers sweep over your cheek, skin warming under his touch.
“Mhmm.” You mumble, sleepily. Your head is very heavy, suddenly, hard to hold up.
“Alright.” He stands, bending to slide an arm under your knees, the other supporting your back in one fluid movement.
“What are you doing?” You squeak, grabbing onto him as he rises, lifting you into his chest at full height. Panic floods your nervous system, fevered tone pitching into a plea. “Put me down! I’m too heavy. Please, I’m too heavy, you can’t-“
“I’ve lifted a car off a teammate before.” He tells you, the thick of his body beneath your ear vibrating. “And I’ve dug Johnny out of a collapsed concrete wall. I’m made to pick things up, bunny. Heavy or not.” He holds you right there, all the way up the stairs, down the hall to the guest room, before settling you back on your feet, big hands around your waist for balance. Your back is to his chest now, and his nose drifts across the top of your head, slow path of his fingers stroking down your hip. “Alright?” He asks, and you nod, throat too dry to speak.
He squeezes. You stifle a gasp, resist the urge to press your thighs together.
It’s been so long since you’ve been touched, since anyone has handled you with reverence, with affection. You almost don’t recognize it.
His hand drifts, slipping between your thigh and cheek. “This okay?” He murmurs, and you manage a rough yes, word sticky and thick in your throat. Yes. Yes, don’t stop. A fingertip strokes along the crease there, back and forth, before trailing upward. He takes as much of your flesh in his palm as he can, squeezing again, caressing, mouth skimming along your neck.
“Oh.” you breathe. The room is warm, barely lit by the bedside lamp, and you burn in the dark, sensations sparking alive that have long laid dormant.
The girl in the mirror curses you.
“Need help getting to bed?”
“N-no.” Yes! “I’m… fine.” His lips touch your cheek, then your ear, breath blowing over you, firm, solid warm mass at your back exhaling shakily.
“Get some sleep.” He steps away, but not before he swings, slowly, softly, into the pillow plush of your ass. It’s a gentle tap, but the fire between your legs roars. “Goodnight, bun.”
“G-goodnight.”
Simon's got his sweatpants and boxers off before he's even fully in the bathroom, running right into the shower, hand wrapped around his throbbing cock as the water flicks on. It's not hot enough, but he doesn't even notice, cock heavy in his grip, tip already smeared wet with pre-come.
"Fuck, bunny." He grits, trying to stay quiet but unable to hold his tongue.
He's awful, for this. Awful for doing this after you've had such an emotional night. Awful for touching you when you're still healing, awful for grabbing a handful of your ass and imagining sliding his dick through the space between those cheeks. He can't stop, strokes himself long, squeezing the base and pulling up and back as he imagines you on all fours, perfect globe perked up in the air for him, his cock sinking into your soaking wet pussy as you moan. He knows you would make the prettiest sounds for them, sweet gasps and cries, bouncing on Johnny's cock in his lap.
"Hop like a bunny." He'd coo, and you'd whine, riding Johnny as Simon coached you until you were so close, almost there on the edge. "Show daddy how bad you want to come, little bunny."
He jerks himself harder, eyes closed, imagining the ripple of your flesh, the way you'd bounce so perfectly, how Johnny would be gripping your hips with his head tipped back, throat exposed for Simon to nip and suck a mark into.
His bunny. His boy.
His toes curl. Water streams down his back, slicking his skin, forearm burning with each stroke, imagination running wild as he gets closer and closer, thinking about you and Johnny and him together, finally, your legs spread wide in front of their faces, perfect pussy on display. He can almost hear the way you'd whisper their names, and it blinds him, fills his head with white light. He knows you're beautiful when you come, as beautiful as you are when you let your guard down and give him a real smile, as beautiful as you are everyday, so pretty and perfect, kind, even as a ghost. He imagines it, pictures it, the sight of his and Johnny's come leaking out of your hole, fingers shoving it back inside, marking you as theirs.
He comes with your name on his lips, a strangled whisper, painting the tile with himself.
He falls asleep with a new addition in their bed, on top of Johny's t shirt and the baby monitor... there's now a long sleeved tee, plucked from your dirty laundry this morning as he was getting ready to leave. It smells like you, something he wishes he could bottle, and he holds it close, tied in tandem with Johnny's, curled in his arms on top of the pillow.
#simple math#peaches writes#ghoap x reader#ghost x reader x soap#simon riley#john mactavish#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley#simon ghost riley x reader#john soap mactavish#soap x reader#ghost x soap#if you saw my technical difficulty earlier no you didn't!
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here’s a post dedicated to abby’s arms. why? because i said so.
and yes, they’re pretty much all nsfw. enjoy the visual! (i certainly am 🤭)
✂️ ok but imagine just watching abby’s biceps flex and ripple under her skin as she pumps her fingers into you, bumping against that sensitive spongy spot inside of you, working you towards your fourth orgasm of the night (so extremely motivated by your fucked-out mewls). no wonder she’s so buff. she’s exercising days and nights. ;)
✂️ thinking bout abby catching you watching her workout. you watching her do bicep curls specifically. oh lord, the pump her muscles get when she’s done (as if they could get any bigger)… and the way she grits her teeth while working an extra long set. you could get off on the heavy breaths she lets out alone. and she knows certainly knows it. you can tell by the haughty smirk plastered on her face as she eyes you inconspicuously staring.
✂️ but also just the way she’s so so strong but so very gentle with you is honestly the most attractive thing. she’d do anything you ask in a heartbeat, but just as easily put you in your place.
✂️ and the fact that she’s so strong really contributes to the appeal when you have her tied up. seeing such a big girl unable to move, massive arms pulled up tight around her head, flexing with every move as she twists and turns in pleasure, knowing you have that much power over someone whose figure is so dominating… yeah that’ll do it.
✂️ sweet jesus and when you’re sitting on her face, riding away like there’s no tomorrow, sensitive clit raw and red from the constant stimulation against her nose— abby’s just as turned on as you are, if not more. she’s feasting away from below you, tongue prodding at your dripping hole. she knows your legs are about to give out, she can tell by their trembling, and it’s like she’s been waiting for this moment. her arms are at your waist and quite literally holding up your entire body weight, making sure you’re still getting the pleasure she wants you to, and fuck if that isn’t the hottest thing you’ve ever experienced.
✂️ or what about when she’s incredibly busy, you know, studying to be a doctor and all, and can’t exactly divert her attention to help you out when you’re feeling all desperate and horny? i mean she could offer you her thigh, but what are all those hours at the gym for? without even a glance, she sticks out an arm instead, and you silently thank god a moment later when your clit catches perfectly on her tricep, causing a suppressed moan to bubble out from the back of your throat— and abby to raise a teasing eyebrow in your direction. (only when you finish does abby really turn to you, saying “clean it.” and relishing in the way your tongue laps up her arm, gathering slick and making a further mess of yourself in the process).
well this was one fucking ramble. i am and will always be a proud slut for abby anderson’s arms.
#wlw#lesbian#tlou#tlou2#smut#abby anderson#the last of us#abby anderson headcanons#abby anderson fan fiction#abby anderson smut#abby anderson fic#abby anderson x reader#abby anderson tlou2#abby x you#abby smut#abby the last of us#abby tlou#abby x fem!reader#abby anderson is so mf fine#abby anderson is a tank#abby anderson muscle mommy#abby anderson’s arms#biceps#bicep smut#sapphic
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Rin Itoshi and female s/o taking each other first time
omgggggg i tried to make it romantic and sweet but i do love a slutty ass dude who's in control so apologies if this isnt exactly what u wanted hehe
warnings: 18+ MDNI, fem!reader, virgin!rin, virgin!reader, fingering, best friends to lovers, mutual pining, tit sucking, "just the tip" pfft, slight manipulation, brief condom use, premature ejaculation, creampie.
words: 2.9k
Your heart races as you watch Rin scroll through his phone and find some music to play. He looks so serious, though that’s nothing new. You don’t dare speak, worried you’ll say the wrong thing if you do. He looks up at you, briefly, offering a weak smile before looking through his phone again.
“We don’t have to do this, you know.” he tells you without even looking at you. You watch him as he starts hooking up his phone to the Bluetooth speaker in your room, and you shuffle uncomfortably on top of your bed.
“I want to… ‘m just scared.” you confess, breath shaking slightly as you exhale. “Do you still want to?” you wonder, feeling shy as you ask. You’re sure he wouldn’t be here if he didn’t want to, though.
Rin doesn’t do anything he has no interest in.
“Yeah.” he tells you, setting his phone down before looking back at you, finally. He’s so far away, it feels too formal. Though you assume he wants to set the pace and make sure everything is comfortable for you both before you proceed. “We agreed,”
“I know.” you nod, recalling the moment you decided as teenagers to give each other your virginities if you hadn’t lost them after you turned twenty. “Just checking.”
The concept of Rin being single, let alone a virgin, is something you can’t even begin to comprehend. You’ve been best friends with him since you could talk. You remember him having no interest in you until you forced your way into playing soccer games with him and his brother. You soon gave it up once you got what you wanted, but you’ve been inseparable ever since.
Girls have always thrown themselves at Rin, but he never cared. Not really. You remember him having one girlfriend and it never went anywhere. It only lasted three weeks. He told you the gory details of their sex lives, though. Only because you asked.
It didn’t go past hand stuff.
“I brought condoms.” he tells you, pulling a box from his bag and setting them down on the desk he’s sitting by.
“I- I’m on the pill.” you respond. “I heard it feels better without… those. But we should use them.”
“Okay, yeah.” he agrees.
“… but we don’t have to.”
“I’ll use one.” he assures you, not wanting to make you feel pressured to go raw for his benefit. Though you’re sure it would be for yours, too. “If you want me to take it off, I can do that.”
You nod, agreeing.
“This is so…” you think, searching around the room for any inspiration of a descriptor to use. He stares at you, intently, wondering what you might say. He’d never tell you, but he’s just as nervous as you are. Of course he has an edge of experience ahead of you, but he’s still clueless. He wants to make sure this is going to be nice for you.
Perfect, if possible.
“What?”
“Formal.” you shrug.
“Oh, I’m sorry.” he responds, scratching his neck as he thinks about what you told him. He looks around, feeling a little too awkward to make eye contact. “I just want to make sure everything’s going to be okay…”
“It’s fine, you’re right.” you smile, “I just thought my first time would be… romantic. It’s stupid, I’m sorry.” you shake your head, dismissing the idea.
You knew you’d end up here with him eventually. You had no intention of losing your virginity to anyone else, after all. You’ve been in love with him for years, and finding out he got a girlfriend almost killed you. It was hard hearing about how they became intimate, but you were so fucking relieved when they broke up.
He only decided to get a girlfriend because he thought you weren’t interested in him, though. You’ve always been a forbidden fruit he wouldn’t dare try to cross a line with. You’re his best friend, after all. He wouldn’t want the romantic feelings he has towards you to ruin that.
“It’s not stupid.” he assures you. “Here, pick some music.” he hands you his phone.
You start to scroll and realise you’re looking on a playlist he created aptly named sex playlist. It makes you giggle, but you don’t comment. And you don’t pay him any mind as he leaves the room while you continue searching for a song.
The boy has good taste, you soon realise.
He comes back a few minutes later with some candles from a nearby cupboard. He knows you too well. You hoard them, you always have. You get an abundance each year for Christmas and rarely use them. He starts lighting them and placing them around the room.
You finally look up as he turns the light on, the room dimly lit by the burning flames scattered around.
“Is this better? I should have gotten some rose petals or something…”
“N-No, this is fine.” you smile, “Thank you, Rinnie, this is nice.”
He clears his throat and sits beside you on your bed. You quickly hand him his phone, prompting him to lean over to place it back down on your desk.
Your heartbeat begins to increase rapidly as he faces you. You haven’t even so much as kissed before, let alone what else will follow. He reaches out to caress your face, and it takes all of your willpower to not flinch.
“R-Rin… do you, um, d-do you watch…”
“Porn? Yeah. Do you?”
His reply makes your face flush with heat and the thought of confessing your own truth makes you even hotter. You look away from him, twiddling your fingers in your lap and looking at those instead.
“I know it won’t be like that… it’s your first time. And mine.” he reminds you.
He’s always been so mature. And you’re glad he’s doing all he can to put you at ease. He puts a finger under your chin, forcing you to look up at him again. You gulp, nervously, before nodding. He smirks at that.
“Good, I’m glad,” he tells you, beautiful jade eyes flickering with flames as he stares at you. “Means you know what you like.” he leans into you, an attempt to kiss which you immediately back away from. And you apologise, profusely, assuring him that you’re still a little nervous.
“I— I know guys can, you know, it can be quick… s-so don’t feel bad.”
“Don’t worry about that.” he shakes his head. “If I cum quickly, I’ll make sure you finish.”
He closes the distance between the two of you, his lips planting softly on your own. His eyes close as he loses himself to it, though you keep yours open for a little while as you process what is happening.
You’re making out with your best friend!
Though when his large, dominating hands begin to fondle your chest, you pull away entirely.
“Sorry, did I hurt you?” he wonders.
“N-No, I didn’t expect you to be so confident.” you whisper, and he kisses you again, smiling into it.
Your eyes close as you allow him to continue locking lips with you. His hand entirely gropes one of your tits and his thumb casually strokes over it. Even through the layers of your crop top and bra, you find yourself mewling softly.
He smooths his hand over the curve of your waist until he reaches the bottom of your crop top. His fingers breach upwards towards your bra, roughly groping at it and the fat of your tits.
“O-Ow.” you speak, softly.
“Sorry,” he whispers back, “Can I take your top off?” he asks between continuous kisses.
“Uh-huh.” you nod, dumbly.
He breaks the kiss to quickly pull your crop top over your head. His lips attach to yours again almost instantly as he starts to fiddle with your bra. He stops kissing you, again, to look over your shoulder so that he can undo the clasp. You gasp when he finally unhooks it, keeping the pink material against your chest to preserve your modesty.
“Can I see?” he asks, his eyes moving between yours and your hands. You hum, nervously, but nod. He helps you pull down your straps as you keep the material held firmly against your chest. Sighing, slightly panic in your voice as you strip the material away. “Fuuuuck…” he mutters to himself, adjusting his hardening cock in his pants as he looks at you.
“You should take something off.” you suggest before he can kiss you again. He immediately pulls his t-shirt over his head, tousling his hair back into place right after.
You continue to moan against his lips when he kisses you again. And they only get louder as he kisses down your neck whilst flicking his thumb over your pebbled nipple. He grunts against your skin, battling on whether he should say something to you or stay silent.
He’d hate to ruin the mood.
“Are you hard yet?” you ask him, your shy demeanour leaving you as you lose yourself to the sensation of his hands caressing your body. “S-Should we do it?”
“Wanna feel?” he asks, not waiting for an answer as he pulls your hand towards the bulge in his jeans, moaning immediately from the contact. “Look what you’ve done to me.” he laughs, pulling you closer and hooking one of your legs over his own.
He scratches the back of his nails up your thigh, stopping just short of dipping under your skirt as you shiver from the touch. His eyes find yours, kissing you reassuringly.
“Can I feel you?” he wonders, and, of course, you nod. His fingers disappear under your pleated skirt, quickly cupping your panty-clad mound. He barely gasps when he comes into contact with your panties. “You’re so wet…”
“S-Stop…” you reply, shyly, “s’embarrassing…” you tell him.
“You need to be wet for me,” he responds, that big, logical, brain of his immediately putting you in your place. Reminding you that he is the one with a little more experience and you need to listen to him. “You’ll be so tight… even for a finger.”
He forces your body down, flat against the bed and flips up your skirt. The cute triangular shape of your panties makes his cock throb, and he moves them into the crease of your thigh.
“Tell me if it hurts…” he requests, staring into your eyes as deft fingers come into contact with sopping flesh. He runs them through your folds, and you jolt when a finger tip grazes your clit. He moves it towards your hole, slowly teasing around it before pushing in. He stops, quickly, when you yelp. “Sorry, I’ll go slower. Hold onto me.” he instructs, a hand wraps around his bicep and squeezes as he continues to plunge his longer finger deep inside.
“Kiss me,” you whimper, pathetically. He drops his head so that your lips can meet again. He devours the moans and cries you emit as he curls his finger in and out of you. It feels odd, but not unpleasant. It’s still painful but it begins to subside.
“Gonna add another, okay?” he asks, and you nod. You hiss, instantly, hands flying down to pull his away. “Sh, sh sh, I’ll go slow again, okay? Gotta be able to take them or we can’t fuck.”
You fight back tears as the stretch begins to sting. He sinks his head lower, taking one of your hardened nipples into his mouth. Your back arches off the bed slightly, coaxing him to look up at you. And then he remembers all of articles he’s read. All of the research he’s done.
He even thinks about his teammates talking about sex.
“You have to worship the clit.” he recalls one of them saying.
He pulls away from your tit, briefly, to line his thumb up with your clit and apply pressure. He circles it carefully, monitoring your expressions as he does. You yelp, trying to close your legs, but he opens them back up with his free hand.
“Are you gonna cum?” he wonders.
“It’s too much, Rinnie!” you gasp, skin tightening over your knuckles until they turn white as you grip the sheets. “S-Slow down, please! S’too much!” you cry, unable to hold back your tears any longer.
He doesn’t relent, however. Hoping the way your body trembles means you’re about to cream all over his fingers. It was an achievement he never reached with his ex without her assistance. She showed him how and where to touch to make her cum. But you’re not her. You’re perfect.
You gasp, breathlessly, as your pussy begins to tighten around his fingers. Your clit throbs as he teases it just right and you begin to cum hard and fast for him. He kisses between the valley of your breaths, whispering sweet nothings as you reach your peak and plummet back down to earth. He slows down his ministrations as you begin to shudder and twitch from the after shocks, looking up at you adoringly when you start to calm down.
“Good?” he asks.
“Very,” you pant, laughing lightly as you find your sense again. “Rinnie…” you speak, your confident bravado disappearing again as you feel naked and exposed.
“Yeah?”
“Promise me… promise you’re a virgin, too…” you say, looking up at the ceiling. You feel too needy and desperate as you speak. But that was too good for him to not know what’s he’s doing. He’s seriously only done that once on another girl? It’s a little hard to believe.
“I promise. Was it really that good?” he smirks. He kisses both of your nipples softly before sucking his fingers clean of your juices. “I’ve been preparing… reading about stuff. Asking advice. I’ve told you everything I’ve done, I swear.”
He stands up, unbuttoning his jeans and kicking off his shoes at the same time. He pulls of his jeans and underwear in the same movement, revealing his large, blushing cock.
“We don’t have to do this.” he assures you, picking up a condom from your desk and tearing the foil with his teeth. He rolls it down his length, the rubbery sheen covers the pretty pink colour of his dick. “Do you want to stop?”
“Um,” you think about it. He’s asking as if he isn’t already raring to go. You look between his erection and his intimidating stare as you think about what to say.
“What about just the tip?” he asks. And at that, you nod. He reaches under your skirt and pulls down your panties to ogle your drippy cunt one more time. He feels himself throb at the thought of splitting your virgin hole open on his fat cock. He’s always known he was big, and he really doesn’t want to hurt you. He can only hope his fingering was enough prep before you rob each other of your innocence for good.
He lines up his cockhead with your virgin slot as he cages you in beneath his wide frame. You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him down to kiss you, your moan semi silenced as he pushes his tip in.
Oh God this isn’t enough.
He knew he’d need more.
Just a little more.
He pushes in a bit further, and you pull your lips away from his to voice your concern.
“H-Hurts,” you tell him. “You’re really big.” you inflate his ego further, earning another inch of his cock.
He can’t help it, you’re spurring him on!
And he can only imagine how much better you’d feel wrapped around him without this stupid fucking rubber on. He stops pushing when you place your palms on his shoulders, forcing him to pull back a little. “Is it the condom, Rin? Is it t-too dry?” you wonder, batting your eyelashes up at him so innocently.
“Yes.” he replies, without hesitation. “I’ll take it off.”
He pulls out of you instantly. He hisses a little as he pulls at the condom too hard and it snaps back. He decides to push it up from the base of his cock, lining up with your cunt again right after.
And it’s like you’re made for him as he pushes in. He smothers any whimper you can make with a searing kiss. You feel his tongue slip into your mouth as he pushes in further and further until there’s nothing left to give.
You’re crying, again, not expecting to feel so much so soon.
“God, you’re beautiful.” he praises you. He moves his hips, slowly. His cockhead unintentionally nudges against your soft spot with every rut. The blinding pleasure prevents you from telling him, once again, that it hurts and it’s too much. “I know I said just the tip, jus’ feel so good, princess.” he whispers delicately against your skin.
And, as expected, he doesn’t last long.
A few pathetic strokes of his cock inside of you have him spilling thick spurts of white cream into your unprotected walls. He collapses on top of you, panting violently as he stuffs you full.
He was so backed up before this. He masturbates, of course, but not as much as the average guy. You’ve had this planned for a few weeks, now, so he decided to abstain so he could really enjoy feeling you for the first time.
“Fuck, ‘m sorry. Should have jerked off before I came over.”
“It’s okay.” you tell him, fingers mussing through his hair as you come to terms with the fact that you’ve finally lost your virginity, to your best friend of all people.
“I need to fuck you again,” he confesses, your fingers stop as you look down at him.
“W- now?”
“Soon,” he corrects you. “I want to taste you first.”
© 2023 rinhaler
#💌 — luxe mail#📨 — requests#bllk#bllk x reader#blue lock imagines#blue lock x reader#itoshi rin#rin itoshi#rin itoshi x reader#itoshi rin x reader#blue lock smut#itoshi rin smut#rin itoshi smut#bllk smut#bllk x fem!reader#tw virginity loss#tw manipulation
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taehyun — things he would say during sex
(highly requested) — lowkey got 10 asks on this.
— “fucking take it!, you know you should”
— “no, i don't care if you've come twice already, actually”
— “i said fucking sit on my face”
— “leave the lights on, let me see that pussy”
— “what do we say when we want something?”
— “i’ll stain that cunt white if you don't stop moving, stay still for daddy won't you?”
— “too big? fucked out? okay let's try your mouth instead shall we?”
— “i'll slap that pussy raw, don't test me”
— “go on, finish what you've started, tell me you're mine”
— “which hole today? i'll let you have a say”
— “pick up the call, go on, it's only my fingers”
— “beg for it, come on, you've done it before”
— “sweet girl, you're shaking, all for me yeah?”
— “keep whining, keep acting like a brat, do whatever you want, but you dare open your mouth when you don't cum tonight”
— “wore this for me? 'ts so cute, you're so cute, come here angel”
— “don't run away, i was only playing with your pussy”
— “what? cock not enough? greedy slut”
— “you're really a whore, my whore”
— “give me one more baby, it'll feel good, i'll make it”
— “good girls with good pussies which can take cock get to cum, won't you be one for me?”
— “bite the sheets if you have to, no sounds”
— “ruining you has become quite a hobby hasn't it? you were good for me last night, what happened today?”
— “on your knees, mouth open”
— “yeah? feel good? good gracious, your beautiful”
— “pretty, don't hide yourself, i still haven't left any marks over there”
— “got such pretty fingers, would look prettier wrapped around my dick, don't you think?”
— “you're so wet already, i fucking love it”
— “i love you but i love being inside you even more”
— “need some attention? strip”
— “i'm your tutor not a sex worker but you've got some pretty tits don't you?”
— “you have a crush on me? so i had to fuck you dumb for you to say that?
— “don't roll those eyes at me for the wrong reasons”
#txt hard hours#txt hard thoughts#txt smut#taehyun hard hours#taehyun hard thoughts#taehyun smut#txt drabbles#txt imagines#txt headcanons#txt scenarios#taehyun x reader#taehyun scenarios#taehyun drabble#taehyun headcanons#taehyun x you#txt fluff#txt fanfic#txt ff#txt fanfiction#txt fic#yeonjun smut#txt angst#txt x reader#txt x you#txt x y/n#txt x oc#taehyun x y/n#taehyun imagines
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picturing Eddie first meeting Dustin and thinking yeah, he knows how this goes: he’ll be a larger than life, comical figure in this kid’s life for, like, not even a year before he leaves Hawkins High in the dust.
And sure, Dustin is, like, ridiculously endearing even when he’s being a cocky little shit in campaigns, and that suits Eddie just fine, ‘cause he can be a cocky little shit at the best of times, downright obnoxious really, he thinks—a part of him’s never outgrown the juvenile, no matter how many times he repeats senior year.
Plus Dustin is crazily good at solving riddles, so Eddie’s remaining months leading Hellfire are definitely gonna be a fun challenge.
Then March comes.
And Eddie’s shaking apart in a boathouse, seeing impossible, terrible things on a loop in his head, Chrissy, Chrissy, God no, please, and Dustin’s there, with a wisdom far beyond his years, calmly leading him out of the dark.
Eddie half expects it to be a trick, but no. Dustin Henderson believes him.
You don’t know me, Eddie wants to say.
But there’s a constant defiance in Dustin’s expression, even when he’s clearly trying to keep things light and breezy, there’s nothing to worry about! Like he’s just daring for Eddie to contradict him.
There’s something assured in how the kid does things, Eddie thinks. He can see how the years of all this shit have shaped him, have him flitting between maturity and earnestness: something born from a childhood that’s not been lost, just altered.
He watches Dustin walk with Steve Harrington in the woods—can read the shared history and fondness hidden in between layers of snark; they’re family, he knows that without a doubt.
What trips him up is that Dustin keeps looking back, keeps drawing him back into the group with complaints that he’s walking too slow, and his eyebrows are raised meaningfully, like he’s really saying that there’s room for Eddie here, too.
And Eddie doesn’t know how to convey the sudden gratitude he feels closing up his throat—feels too jittery still, too raw to do anything justice.
He keeps close when Dustin tears off through the woods, heart in his mouth as the night darkens, Dustin, can you slow down? Dustin!
He pulls Dustin back from the lake’s edge just in time, then feels Steve’s watchful eyes on him—spots a flicker of approval, like he’s passed some sort of test.
And that feeling only grows the longer he’s around Steve, lying through his teeth in The Upside Down, I don’t even know why I care what that little shrimp thinks, and Steve’s giving him this knowing sideways glance, like maybe they’re something of the same; Eddie feels a sudden, unexpected rush of joy at the thought, dancing in and out of Steve’s space, still super jealous as hell, by the way.
“I told you, right?” Dustin says, grinning widely as Steve drives them out of Forest Hills at breakneck speed. “He’s awesome.”
And Eddie feels the fondness of his own smile, feels it right down to his core, because he gets that Dustin’s only being so forthcoming because Steve can’t hear him right now.
Kid worships you, dude. Like, you have no idea.
It hits him then, while roughhousing with Dustin in the grass (a deliberate distraction, trying to make the kids forget about weapons and fire): that he’s never really been the kinda guy who people want to stick around, but now…
Now he’s starting to think that he could be.
Starts to imagine, starts to hope—and that’s huge, something that would’ve seemed impossible mere days ago—as he sees Robin and Nancy laughing at his antics, their weapon-making temporarily forgotten.
They like me, Eddie thinks with wonder, they really like me.
And he wants—sudden and fierce, with all he has—to change the world for them, to make it so Robin Buckley would just be spending spring break watching arty films, dreaming of Paris; so Nancy Wheeler would never need to hide guns in her bedroom, would never have to carry an unimaginable grief.
Steve looks over, too—his laugh carries across the field, and Eddie is caught by the warmth in his eyes; even as Dustin manages to playfully tackle him, he’s still thinking of Steve, and maybe, maybe…
The lightness fades as they go over the plan, but not the emotion: Eddie keeps that tucked away, safe, a promise to himself.
“Uh, are you sure about this?” he says in an undertone to Steve, when it’s first revealed that it’s him and Dustin paired up together.
Steve’s eyes are apologetic, “Sorry, man, I’ve tried every—if there was a way to just, like, sit it out, I’d have—”
“No,” Eddie says urgently, “I mean…” And he points at himself before nodding discreetly to where Dustin is—currently talking up a storm with Erica, something about vents that he can’t make sense of.
“Are you sure?” Eddie presses, trying to put all he’s not saying into the question, I can see how much that kid means to you, I’ve known him, like, six months, Harrington, that’s nothing, why, why do you—
Steve shakes his head. A little smile breaks through his concern. “Yeah, of course,” he says, like it’s nothing.
But Eddie can feel the weight of it. A passing of the torch.
And he doesn’t know how to put what he’s feeling into words: that, apart from Wayne, he’s never really allowed people in, never allowed them to matter like this.
As they drive back to the Creel House, as time runs out and nerves build, he tries to show everything he can’t say; he helps Nancy take stock of supplies, offers Robin his shoulder so she can sleep, and he knows that’s not enough, barely scratches the surface, but it’s all he’s got.
He sits in the back of the RV, watches Steve, tense and silent in the driver’s seat, and knows with certainty what his mission is: get Dustin Henderson safely back home.
And no, Eddie doesn’t know how any of this is gonna go.
But he can hope.
He can try.
#the dynamic between them all makes my heart ache. just working through some thoughts ❤️#eddie and dustin#eddie munson fic#henderfam#steve and dustin#eddie and dustin fic#eddie munson analysis#dustin henderson analysis#eddie munson headcanons#eddie munson hcs#steddie#eddie and the party#eddie munson ficlet#eddie and dustin ficlet#implied steddie#pre steddie#eddie munson
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Just a taste
Virgin! Eddie x reader
Summary: Eddie learns just how sensitive nipples can be
Warnings: Smut (18+), grinding, making out, nipple play (I guess that's what you'd call it?), cumming in pants
Word count: 1.8k
a/n: This idea came to me last night and I had to write it, it is purely self indulgent
You and Eddie had been dating for a couple of months now and it had been wonderful. Eddie was sweet and kind but also outrageous and funny. You were completely enamoured by him and were sure he was your person.
You’d both slowly opened up to each other in those few months, about intense things and little things and - in the middle of a makeout session on your 3rd date - Eddie had, quite suddenly, opened up to you about being a virgin.
He’d looked at you like he was surprised he’d even said it, like being a virgin was a shock to him. The look on his face had made you completely melt, cupping his face gently and pressing a kiss to his nose you assured him that that was okay, you liked spending time with him even if you didn’t have sex.
“How much of a virgin are we talking here…?” you’d asked cautiously. Trying your best to keep your voice indifferent about the situation, just trying to gauge the amount of experience he had, if any.
“I’ve, ah, I’ve kissed and like made out with people before,” he offered the statement as if it was a question, like he was really asking you if he should have done more, if you think he's weird for not and - most importantly- if you want to run away right about now.
But you hadn’t run away. Instead you’d just offered him a warm smile, nodding gently.
“Okay,” you’d whispered, “so what we’re doing right now, it’s okay?”
“Yeah,” he’d breathed with a slight laugh, “it’s definitely okay.”
After that you both made out until your lips were swollen and raw, both rutting against each other like desperate teenagers, but you didn’t mind one bit because Eddie did make you feel like some lovesick teenager.
Since then you’d talked to him and reassured him more that it was completely okay that he wasn’t as experienced, that you were happy to go at his pace and more than happy to teach him anything he wanted to know or try when he was ready.
That brings you to today.
You’re both on his bed, making out slowly as the late afternoon sun coats his room in an orange glow. Eddie sitting with his back against the wall with you sitting comfortably on his lap, one hand tangled in his unruly, brown hair, the other giving you purchase on his chest as you grind against him. Both of Eddie’s hands are gripping the plush of your hips and ass tightly to keep himself grounded, every now and again pulling you against him to help you grind against his aching hard on.
One of Eddie’s hands glides up past your waist, stopping just shy of your boobs before he breaks the kiss, panting heavily.
“Can I touch you?” he asks, lust blown eyes pleading at you so cutely.
“Of course baby, you can touch me wherever you want,” you whisper in his ear, loving the way it makes him shiver underneath you.
“H-here?” he asks, as he moves his hand up slightly, half cupping the underside of your boobs.
“Please,” you respond sweetly.
Eddie groans as he cups them with both hands. He’s been wanting to do this for so long, being even more distracted by them all afternoon when he realised you weren't wearing a bra. And having to try and not cum in his jeans just before, when he saw how hard your nipples were getting while making out with him.
You let out a soft, content sigh as he experimentally gives them a soft squeeze, looking up at you to gauge your reaction.
“That’s it baby,” you coo, “you can go a bit harder.”
Eddie’s eyes flick down to your boobs as he starts to knead the soft flesh between his fingers, mouth open slightly as he looks at them with awe, before looking back up at you.
“Yeah, that’s good,” you say with a smile, causing Eddie to smile too.
“Use your thumbs to play with my nipples a little bit babe,” you instruct gently, Eddie following your orders straight away, gently rubbing against the small pebbles on your chest, wetting his lips as he does, eyes completely trained to them now.
You let out a soft moan as his thumbs move in small slow circles against them.
“That’s it baby, just like that,” you praise him, not missing how his dick twitches against you at your words.
You start to grind against him again subconsciously, the pleasure from your nipples growing, making you needy. You’re desperate to feel more of him so you chance in asking him if he’d be okay with that.
“Would you like me to take my shirt off baby or is this okay?” you ask gently, hoping he knows it’s completely fine if he’s not ready.
He swallows and nods while looking up at you, scared his voice would come out too eager and excited.
You smile at him, quickly taking your shirt off and tossing it on the floor next to the bed.
Eddie's eyes go wide with lust and awe as he stares at your naked breasts, mouth practically salivating at the sight. When he doesnt cup them again after a second you gently find his hands, slowly bringing them back up to your chest, mewling as you squeeze your boobs through his hands.
Eddie lets out a shaky moan as he feels your skin bare against him for the first time. He can't get over how soft and warm you feel. He goes back to rubbing and flicking your nipples softly with his thumbs before experimentally pinching one between his thumb and forefinger.
“Fuck, Eddie,” you moan out while grinding harder against him. Heat blooming in your core as he starts to play with your tits rougher.
Without warning he surges forward, tongue darting out to lick a long, flat stripe against one of your nipples. You let out a surprised moan at the action, fingers tugging at his hair tightly and head tilting back before snapping down to look at him. He has a smirk plastered on his face, no doubt pleased with your reaction before repeating the action, maintaining eye contact with you.
He continues that before switching, doing the same to your other nipple.
“Please suck on them Eddie,” you beg.
He doesn't have to be told twice, immediately taking one of your nipples in his mouth and giving it a soft suck while pinching the other one. Increasing in pressure when you moan loudly and continue to grind against him.
He starts to grow more confident; sucking, licking, pinching and rolling your nipples. You start to feel that familiar heat grow between your legs, your clit catching deliciously against your painties and his boner through his jeans. Your oversensitive nipples hurdling you quickly towards your orgasm.
You know you should let Eddie know how close he’s getting you, not wanting to overwhelm him by suddenly cumming in his lap.
“Fuck Eddie, if you keep doing that ‘m gonna cum,” you moan out breathlessly.
Eddie stops sucking on your nipples at that, still cupping your breasts as he looks up at you.
“Don’t do that,” he whispers, face confused and lips pouty, “you don’t have to over exaggerate or fake it because of me.”
Your heart melts at his words as you take his face in your hands. You hate that you’ve offended him but god he looks so cute right now.
“oh baby boy,” you coo softly, thumbs stroking his cheeks, “I’m not I promise. I just have like really, really sensitive nipples. I can cum from basically only having them played with” you explain softly.
“Wait,” Eddie says like you’ve just altered the course of his whole life completely, “that’s a thing?” he almost shouts.
You giggle fondly at his reaction.
“Yeah, but it’s not like, super common” you reply with a shrug.
Eddie can’t believe what he’s hearing. Why did no one tell him nipples could be that sensitive? If he wasn’t already super fucked out and getting embarrassingly close just from grinding and playing with your tits he definitely is now. He’s determined to see for himself, and slightly to try and see if it actually is real, still not quite believing you.
“Can I- can I try it?” He asks sheepishly, averting your gaze “to make you cum like that?”
“I would love nothing more,” you reply, and although you are trying to be sweet and do this for him you'd be lying if you said you didn’t absolutely need to feel his soft, plump lips against you again.
Eddie eagerly goes back to playing with your nipples, moaning and whimpering around them as he feels your sopping pussy making his jeans wet as you grind against him harder and faster than before. Shamelessly chasing your high as you moan and whimper his name, it’s the hottest thing Eddie has ever heard.
You feel your orgasm build up again moaning as Eddie gives your nipple a particularly hard suck as he pulls the other one. Eddie is right there with you, seeing you so desperate like this, knowing he’s (hopefully) about to make you cum is too much for the poor boy to handle, his dick aching and leaking in his jeans.
He lets out a particularly loud whine as your fingers tangle in his hair, holding him close to you as your legs start to shake.
“Eddie,” you cry urgently, “you’re gonna make me cum baby, shit-”
Your orgasm washes over you, as you moan and mewl and squirm all over Eddie’s lap clinging to him. It feels so good to finally have him make you cum.
Eddie’s mouth lets go of your nipple with a loud pop. The combination of you grinding against him, moaning out his name like it’s the only word you know, your perfect nipples in his mouth, your fingers tugging at his hair and especially cumming all over him all become too much.
He buries his face between your breasts, wrapping his arms around you to hold you close as he coats the inside of his boxers and jeans in his own cum, hips thrusting up to meet yours as you both rut against each other.
You both pant and cling to each other for a second, coming down from your respective highs.
After Eddie’s brain starts to clear he pulls back from you, letting his head fall back against the wall with a thud, eyes still closed and panting lightly.
“Did you just-?” you start to ask. Being cut off by Eddie humming a quick mmhm, you can see his cheeks are flushed as he keeps his eyes shut, no doubt embarrassed about cuming.
“Fuck thats so hot,” you gasp, pulling him in for a heated kiss. It takes him a second to return the kiss but he does with enthusiasm.
He breaks the kiss, searching your eyes as he asks “you don’t… think it’s like weird or something?”
“Of course not Eds, I think that was one of the hottest things ever,” you assure him. He just smiles at you, pulling you back in for another kiss.
Tagging some people who might be interested : @usedtobecooler @andvys @wroteclassicaly @bimbobaggins69 @hammity-hammer @littledemondani @justmeinadaze @translatemunson @prettyboyeddiemunson @ilovecupcakesandtea @wanturvideo @parkermunson @pxrxcxa @chainsawmunson
#eddie munson#eddie munson x female reader#eddie munson smut#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson x you#eddie munson fluff
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FML: Video
“Shoot, I don’t know about this. Something about watching this feels weird.”
My bro just kept holding my face, “You said you wanted to be one of the bros dude. Just keep watching, this video will tell you everything you need to know”
“Yeah, you said that, but this is just static and nonsense, and something about it has me on edge. Just let me get out of here.”
“But don’t it speak to you? Isn’t there something you want to let out jock boy.”
“I…no, no I… I can’t… stop, what’s happening?”
“Jock boy is about to learn what being a bro is all about. Jock boy wants to listen carefully to his bro and watch the video.”
“No no no… but, it… it sounds so… calm…”
“Yeah jock boy, just like a mind vacation. Just let it happen. Good jock boy.”
“Must… listen… to… bruuuuhhh.”
Sometimes it takes a little convincing, but eventually they all fall. Their eyes grow wide before their muscles go limp and mouths drop open. It usually only takes a little bit for them to process. But when they finally do come too, it’s like a whole different world in there. The first one I did by accident. Found the weird file and sent it to my roommate as a joke. It wasn’t until I got back from class that I saw just how much power I now had.
Gone was the theater kid, in his place was a souped up bro ready to knock back some cold ones, and get sweaty in the gym. It was a surprise when he began rubbing my thigh in the sauna, and pulled me in for a kiss. I melted in his arms as he positioned me on the bench and began stretching me out. I was so relaxed he slid in with no lube, fucking me raw and hard as his tongue kept my mouth distracted from moaning. Thought I just got lucky there, happened to get a gay guy. But I quickly learned for him now, “any hole’s a goal.” And it was confirmed when I tried it with a second guy:
Good old Southern boy, and as straight as they came. Thought he was hot shit in class. Sent him the file when we were on a group project together. By the next day when he came in, he couldn’t add two numbers together with a calculator. He was still smug as hell but in bed, let’s just say he earned it. He was about as thick as an ear of corn, and he knew how to plow a field and spread his seed.
I had tried a couple others since then. A scholarship rival here. A group mate there. A couple disappointing dates that ended up really turning the night around. But my friend had finally gotten curious and started asking some questions. I didn’t need someone to question what was happening. I needed a lifting buddy. This was my first time trying to edit the file to get some different results.
“Hey, bro? What happened last night? I feel hung over as fuck..”
Holy shit he was massive. “Nothing too much bro. You just got fucking shit faced.”
“Huhuhu, yeah,” he gawfed, “sounds right.
It was time to try the trigger and see how much the changes worked, “Hey, jock boy, tell me your name.”
His laughter stopped as his eyes glossed over, “My name is Jack, but my friends just call me Jacked.”
“What do you want more than anything, jock boy?”
“To serve my bros,” he replied.
“Will you do anything for them?”
His mind flickered for a moment. I saw a look of confusion pass over him. He looked down, “Hey, what… WHAT HAPPENED? What did you do-“
I walked up and held his face“JOCK BOY, STOP.”
He tried to fight it, his mind pulling him back to the abyss. But as I watched his body slowly relax, I knew I had won even before he said, “Ye-yeah. Sure thing bro.”
“Jock Boy, will you do anything for your bros?”
His face broke out in a shiteating grin, “Fuck yeah, anything for my bros.”
“New exercise routine. You, face down, ass up. My bed. Now.”
He excitedly ran back to my bedroom. I heard the bed squeal under his weight. Good to know I could edit things. Can’t always let my bros have all the fun.
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Tell Me Sweet Little Lies Part 1
By the time Eddie is twelve, going to live with his uncle in a trailer in Hawkins, he only has a dozen or so words from his soulmate.
It used to make him guilty, that his soulmate was the kind of person who rarely lied, getting stuck with Eddie who spit lies out like they were the shells of sunflower seeds. Then it made him angry, that he only had a handful of shit like he did it! and I already washed my hands. A small spattering of normal kid shit, while Eddie had to say things like no, officer, I don't know where my father is and Mom's just not feeling well today, Mrs. Anderson.
Then, a year or so before his dad got caught for good, he got It's nothing, I just tripped and Yeah, Mom, I understand, I know he won't do it again and he thought - maybe his soulmate is the kind of kid who knows sometimes it's just better not to say anything.
Eddie can understand that.
Living with Uncle Wayne is - hard. It's hard because it isn't hard, not the way it should be. It makes Eddie say more things that he knows his soulmate will see on his skin, things like I never wanted to be here anyway, and I want to be alone, just leave me alone.
His uncle is endlessly patient, and it grates on his nerves because he wants it. He wants it so bad to be real, but he just - keeps waiting for the other shoe to drop, for something to be too much.
For Eddie to be too much for him.
It comes to a head one night when Eddie's mad at him over something or other, asks why he's doing all this.
"You're my kid, and that means I'm not going anywhere," his uncle says, all gruff and raw honesty, and Eddie can't bear it.
"You don't think your soulmate's going to get tired of all these lies that keep showing up?" he snaps, even though he regrets it the moment it's out of his mouth.
He regrets it even more when there's a heavy, aching silence, and he finally looks up at his uncle, eyes wide and terrified as he thinks this is it, he's finally gone too far -
"It's not a lie," Uncle Wayne says finally, holding Eddie's gaze. "You hear me? It's not a lie. I'm not going anywhere."
Eddie nods, and his uncle relaxes a little, then grimaces, like he isn't sure he wants to say anything else.
"I don't have anyone for lies to show up on, anyway."
He says it like it doesn't matter, but Eddie bursts into tears anyway.
Not everyone has a soulmate. The majority of people do, but it's not uncommon for people to never have words written on their skin. In school, they teach that it doesn't mean you can't be happy, it doesn't mean you can't find love. They teach about soulmate bonds that didn't work out - there's whole plays and novels and movies written about that kind of tragedy and misery, after all.
But sometimes there's still an undercurrent of pity, of bitterness. Outside of school - or inside it, when it isn't the teachers talking - some people say there's something wrong with people who don't have soulmates, some people say that they were meant for bigger and greater things.
Some people say that soulmates are supposed to be between a man and a woman, and every time someone who's queer gets a soulmate, it's because they stole them from someone else.
And Eddie doesn't believe that, not really, but he can't help but wonder if maybe his uncle does, and he can't stop crying.
Now his uncle is the one who looks terrified.
"Son, come here, it's all right, it really is." Uncle Wayne gathers him up in his arms, holds him close the way no one's ever done for him before, and just lets him cry and cry and cry.
Later, Eddie thinks about just letting it go, but - he has to know, he just does.
"Do you think someone stole your soulmate from you?" he asks as he's washing dishes, not looking at his uncle and hoping it doesn't sound anything like do you think someone like me stole your soulmate from you?
Uncle Wayne scowls. "That's a load of horseshit, is what I think. No one can control whether they have one soulmate or two or none, and it doesn't make someone greedy or a thief."
Eddie opens his mouth, then closes it again. He's known about people with two soulmates before, of course, the same way he knows about people with none - and he's heard the comments about them being greedy same as he's heard comments about them being lucky, or a dozen other things people've theorized to explain it. It's just that it doesn't really tell him what he'd wanted to know, and he can't figure out how to ask without being more specific.
Uncle Wanye is looking at him real close, though, and there's something like a quiet acceptance that flashes over his features.
"No one can control who their soulmate is," he says softly. "Whoever yours is - they were meant for you in a way they aren't meant for anyone else. Love like that can't be stolen, kid, it can only be given."
He thinks about that for a long moment, then nods. "Okay."
"Good," his uncle says gruffly. "Now finish those up and get off to bed."
------
First part of a Steddie and platonic Stobin soulmates AU I'm working on, where any lie you tell gets written on your soulmate! No idea how long this is going to be - it was supposed to be a oneshot but it just keeps growing, so I wanted to share at least the first bit of it.
Now with Part 2
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First Cuts
Part 1 | Part 2
“Hey,” Steve says breathlessly. “Y’know that thing that we are not mentioning, ever, on pain of death?”
Eddie blinks. “Y’know you’re still mentioning it even if you don’t call it what it is, right?”
“Eddie,” Steve says seriously, which causes Eddie to focus. “I need your help. I’m kinda freaking out, here.”
“Okay,” Eddie says, running through things in his mind. “Want me to come over? Or wanna come over here? Or just over the phone?”
“I’m stressed out enough I can’t make any decisions right now,” Steve says.
“Okay,” Eddie says, “then I’m coming over. Unlock the door for me, ‘kay? I’ll be there in ten.”
“M’kay. Thank you.” With a click he’s gone, and Eddie hangs his phone back up too, looking around for his keys.
He snatches them off the counter, jams his feet into his shoes, and takes off.
He realizes halfway there that he’s still in his pajamas.
He walks in when he arrives to find Steve sitting at the table, staring at an envelope like he’s trying to disintegrate it with just his vision. Eddie thinks he can almost see the paper smoking. “Hey,” he says softly. “What’s going on?”
Steve doesn’t meet his eyes, just keeps his gaze locked on the envelope. “I did something impulsive. And Robin doesn’t know. And either nothing changes, or everything does.” He lifts his face to Eddie’s. His bottom lip is bitten raw.
“Okay,” Eddie says. “Well, first things first is to figure out which of those options it is, right? I’m assuming the letter will determine which it is.”
“Yeah,” Steve says, reaching for it, only to push it towards Eddie. “I, uh. I applied to a specific school. And I know the kids are going to tease me about it-”
“Hey,” Eddie interrupts, brows furrowed. “You’re plenty smart, Stevie, don’t listen to the little shitheads, alright? Whatever the answer is, whatever you decide to do, I’m with you. One hundred percent. I’ll even punish the little twerps during our next session if they say anything, okay?”
“Can you open it?” Steve begs, whispering, eyes wide.
Eddie’s hopeless to refuse. “Of course I can,” he replies, just as softly.
He looks at the envelope. Good, thick paper. Sticker return address. He opens it and pulls out a letter.
Dear Steven J. Harrington,
We are pleased to inform you that you have been chosen for 1988’s starting class! In Tricoci University, we pride ourselves on…
Eddie looks up at Steve with a grin. “You’re in.”
“Holy shit,” Steve breathes. “Holy shit!” He begins to grin. “I made it!”
“You made it!” Eddie celebrates, then keeps reading.
We hope you look forward to your time here at Tricoci University of Beauty Culture Bloomington.
Eddie looks up at Steve again. “A beauty school?”
Steve flushes scarlet. “Cosmetology. I wanna do hair.”
Eddie sits for a minute, thinking, before he grins at Steve and stands to sweep him into a spinning hug. “That sounds perfect for you!”
Steve giggles giddily, then grins happily at Eddie when he’s set down. “You really think so?”
“Think so? I know so! Stevie! This is gonna be so good for you!” He drags Steve over to the couch so they can both sit. “I mean, think about it. And I don’t just mean the obvious high school shit. Even the little things. You’re good with people, dude. They just like you just ‘cause you’re you. And who knows more about you than anyone else?”
Steve frowns. “Robin?”
Eddie chuckles. “My mistake. General you, not specific. Your hairdresser! You tell them everything. And you live for that shit, Stevie, I see how your eyes light up when the kids share gossip.” He grabs Steve’s hands and smiles warmly at him. “I promise, everyone’s gonna be so happy for you.”
“Thanks, Eds,” Steve murmurs, cheeks still pink.
“And hey,” Eddie says, grinning again. “You’ve got at least one lifelong customer.” He points to himself, grinning when Steve laughs.
“Thanks,” he says, then takes a deep breath, suddenly serious again. Eddie schools his face accordingly. “Will you help me tell Robin?”
Permanent Taglist: @justforthedead89 @ilovecupcakesandtea @madigoround @bookbinderbitch @suddenlyinlove @nburkhardt @artiststarme @paintsplatteredandimperfect @i-less-than-three-you @alyelf @quarble @messrs-weasley @littlewildflowerkitten @vankaar @starman-jpg @bornonthesavage @steddie-there @goodolefashionedloverboi @mischivarien @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @platinum-sunset @just-ladyme @steddiestains @swimmingbirdrunningrock @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @martinskis-lydias @notaqueenakhaleesi @sleepyboosstuff @bestwifehaver @m-owo-n @thatonebadideapanda @finalmoondragon @velocitytimes2 @callmeanythjing @ajeff855 @ilikeititspretty @knitsforthetrail @sillysparrow @that-one-corvid @ace-is-bored @muricel @harpymoth @weirdandabsurd42
Fic Taglist: @wonderland-girl143-blog
#stranger things#steve harrington#eddie munson#steddie#I’m terrible at titles someone help#essentially the plot is ‘Eddie is Steve’s hair dummy and they fall in love about it’#happy ending#maybe some slight angst bc Dustin doesn’t think before he speaks#and also possibly miscommunication between our boys#because always. it always happens#starambles
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HIGH OFF A HONEY PACK
chris smut, i spurred this idea when I watched this yt storytime abt this girl and her man being wild off a honeypack 🙏���
dom!chris • poc!reader friendly
contains: use of honeypacks (duh), chris as your bsf (i like being messy, it shouldn’t be a surprise 😪), standing up sex, raw/unprotected sex, face riding, oral (m!recieving), THICK ASS reader (I HAVE TO), pet names, no use of y/n, use of vapes (fem)
we in boston 4 this one (you’ll need to know that in the story)
word count: 1.5k (my longest one yet 😝)
not-proofread
“Here, only have half, imma have the other half” He laid the honey on tongue, expressing a revolting face “That shit is nasty” He then passed back the honeypack.
Trying a honeypack with my friend/crush/Chris was the last thing I thought I would ever be doing on a late Saturday night. Prior to us being in Chris’ room taking these horrible tasting packets we were making cookies with Nick and Matt which we’re going back to after. “It is, but let’s go”
Chris and I got downstairs to Nick attacking Matt with his hands coated in cooke dough but instead of getting Matt he got Chris who was trying to stop them from potentially making a huger mess.
We waited a hot minute to roll, flatten and place the baked good on the tray, struggling to do the whole thing with the other two tattooed brothers fighting. We created alot of clutter in the kitchen but we had fun doing it. I was bored out since I hadn’t felt the honey kick in yet even though we took it about 30 minutes ago.
Chris had the sticky cookie dough covering his fingers, taunting me with them, “Come on eat it” He brought his fingers up to my face. “Hell no” Who the hell was he joking?
It wasn’t that his hands were dirty or anything we all washed our hands before baking, it was just that it I did it… It might just turn me on regardless of the honeypack. And might was an understatement, Chris is so fucking attractive, he has been ever since grade school and i’ve had a crush on him since grade school. I’d bend my ass over anytime of the day for him and I kept it lowkey most of the time but this honeypack was making it show.
Matt went to wash off in the bathroom and Nick followed him like a baby duck while trying to scrape the dough off his hands after their little food fight.
“Lick it off” Chris pressed his fingers to my lips as I gazed up at his glistening coloured eyes that were (un)intentionally seducing me. He split open my plush lips with his index and middle fingers applying pressure to force them into my mouth. I sucked on Chris’ fingers replacing the dough with my saliva still keeping eye contact with him as he was pleased watching me.
He shoved his fingers farther down along my tongue to push my limits until he pulled them out leaving my mouth feeling empty. “Good girl” Matt walked back into the kitchen a quick seconds after Chris made the comment “Go wash your hands, bro what are you doing?” He listened to Matt and went on his way.
“Holy shit.” Matt spun his head towards me looking confused “You good?”
“Yeah, yeah”
The timer finally went off for the oven and Nick sped to the oven taking care of the cookies and I was about to also taking a last hit of my nicotine but I felt eyes on me.
“What?” Chris was eyeing me down as I sat across from me as I was across the counter, set down on the on the chairs. “Nothing, you just look… Really good” I played around with my vape in my hands still feeling Chris’ eyes burning a hole through my head.
Never-fucking-mind this honey was flooding my brain and my pussy all at once
The cookie unfortunately came out just a little burnt and by a little I mean alot, I didn’t really care though because I couldn’t help myself feeling a type of way about how he was looking at me right now. It was entirely different than usual.
Hearing Matt and Nick bicker in the background made everything realer as I tried to block them out but they quieted cause Nick stopped replying to Matt, “K. Can you guys get a room or something, stop eye fucking” Nick complains looking at us with a disgusted face.
“Re-fucking-lax” Chris says towards him. They were all irritated at the state of the cookies and I have been there thinking of the way I was going to silently take him to a room.
Scaling up to approach him, I got close to his body, hovering him as he grabbed my waist, pulling me in. “Come upstairs to my bedroom a minute or two after me”, he refrained from my body to take himself upstairs.
“Just make another batch!” I was tired of hearing those two bicker, rolling my eyes to then walk upstairs soon after Chris did.
Reaching his bedroom, I opened his door to leap inside when Chris lifted me up with ease, slamming me into the door before locking it and leaving wet kisses on my neck. Chris’ hands found themselves gripping my ass and the other holding my waist to support me.
He then let go of my lower body, snaking his warm hands up my shirt, unclasping my bra and removing my top to admire my boobs, placing kisses on them, “You’re tits are so pretty mama”. Groping Chris’ length through his pants, I wanted to feed more into validation so I got on my knees in-front of him, dropping his sweatpants Chris’ throbbing cock instantly jumped out “No boxers?” I teased
I grabbed the base of his dick stroking him while lightly licking his leaking tip. Chris sucked his teeth growing impatient with me until I fully took in his cock filling my mouth and a loud guttural moan escaped his lips. “Yes baby— Fuckkk”
Pulling his length out from between my lips, I spit all over the head of his length using the natural lubricant to tease the slit sucking on it. “Sucking it even better than my fingers” he chuckled as I hollowed my cheeks on him as I gazed up at Chris’ face which showed an expression of lust which made me pleased. Bobbing my head relentlessly until Chris gave me the signal that he was going to release.
Chris’ cum flowed through my throat and I had no problem swallowing it all, every last drop. “You’re such a good girl for me, aren’t you?” He hoisted me to turn around and make my back face him.
My libido was stronger than ever with the honey boosting my arousal “Yes, I’m a good girl for you” I couldn’t wait any longer with Chris stroking his length at my entrance before he pushed into me with full strength making me feel completely filled up to brim and stretched out to my limit.
“Fuck!” Chris’ cock rubbed against my walls as I clenched around him, it didn’t stop him from abusing my insides, throwing deep and fast thrusts into me. Skins slapped against each others making fapping sounds shower along his bedroom walls. Pulling me back into him for my arms to fall to the door and I had to use it to support my body from the harsh thrusts I was taking.
Pressing my back for me to arch, the more he sent his length in my dripping cunt the louder my screams got and Chris spanked my ass “Shh, do you want Matt and Nick hear us?” He covered my mouth with his hands to avoid me from ratting us out even as he was hitting my g-spot at the perfect angle “Chris! Yes— Shit! I’m coming”
Chris pulled out abruptly “Chris—” I whined, “You’re gonna cum on this tongue mama” He carried me onto the edge of his bed, holding my legs up in the air, setting his tongue on my clit just nipping at it before he stopped and pulled his face from my heat “Stop teasing me”.
“You gonna sit on my face baby” Usually I would’ve been tweaking on some different shit about my weight being on him or whatever but I couldn’t give two fucks at the moment, the honey had me spiralling and I need to cum. I nodded my head yes and Chris laid straight on the bed and I climbed over him with my knees on both sides of his head hovering his face. “Sit”
He didn’t have to tell me twice and I lowered myself onto his face. Chris latched his lips to my pulsating cunt making me gasp as his tongue danced on me. I waved my hips over Chris’ face, his nose was giving me even more pleasure and my mouth fell open “Yes, yes, yes, fuck Chris”.
Riding his face continuously, I got close to my orgasm quickly from my last one, Chris used his hands to dig his face into my pussy and licking the wetness off. “I’m cumming, please Chris” I released all over Chris’ face, shuddering.
I lifted off of him to just let my body fall onto the bed.
“There’s no way they didn’t hear you”
tags: @lunariaxzz @thesturniolos @angelic-sturniolos111 @littlebookworm803 @chrissturniolosbitch @leahsbussy @luv4kozume @alinaa131 @sturniolopowers @mattslolita @sturniofilmd @sturnioloooooo @mattsneezing @muwapsturniolo @idkwhosnyla @strniohoeee @iiheartstef @nonamegirlxsturniolo @ka1nani @1800chokedathoe @fuzzycupcakebeliever @mattgirly @me4chris @mattslutt @nicksmainbitch @luhsexcbihh @hearts4chriss
#chris sturniolo#chris sturniolo x reader#chris sturniolo smut#i need him in a way that is concerning to feminism#chris sturniolo fluff#matt sturniolo#sturniolo triplets#nick sturniolo#hoesformatt#riyahspeaks#fan fic#fan fiction#sturniolo#sturniolo smut#smut
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★ GETTING INTO AN ARGUMENT WITH MHA CHARACTERS (PT. 2)
characters: midoriya, bakugo, todoroki
genre: comfort !!
notes: find part 1 here !! i’ve been busy with stuff, sorry for not getting this out sooner!
izuku midoriya
- a day had passed since he flipped out at you
- he knew he messed up but you were letting him know he messed up.
- every time he texted you he’d always end up being left on read or delivered.
- even at school when he tried to come up to you, you’d always end up running towards somebody else and joining into a conversation with them.
- he wasn’t going to give up until he finally talked to you and figured things out though
- which is how he ended up in front of your dorm room door at 9 pm at night.
izuku let out a nervous exhale before raising his fist to knock on your door. fighting his nerves, he shook his head and hit his fist against it gently. “coming!”, you chirped, pushing yourself out from your desk to answer the door. a faint smile arose on his face at the sound of your positive voice, but quickly got washed away by nerves once he saw the door begin to open. when you opened the door and saw izuku there, you rolled your eyes, beginning to shut the door, but you were quickly stopped by izuku shoving his foot into the space between the door, slipping his hand in as well so he had a hold on the door. “y/n, please talk to me”, he muttered, trying to look you in the eyes. “hasn’t enough been said? what happened to you and your “limits”?”, you sarcastically asked, putting emphasis on the limits part. he sighed, looking down at the ground. “listen, please. i really, really didn’t mean all of that. i was just so overwhelmed and exhausted but i know that doesn’t excuse me snapping on you like that. i don’t know where i’d be without you watching over me all the time”, he spoke, his voice was passionate and somewhat shaky. “i love you so much, y/n. i wouldn’t be where i am without you, and i’m so, so sorry for taking that all out on you”, he finished. only hearing silence back from you, he got nervous. slowly looking up, he was faced with the sight of you with tears glistening in your eyes. his eyes widened as he panicked. “oh no… i’m sorry, i’m sorry! was it something i said? shit-“, “no- no, you’re fine, zuku. this is perfect, actually. thank you”, you cut him off, a small tear falling down your face as you quickly wiped it away. izuku sighed as he pushed the door out of the way and pulled you into a hug. “i love you so much and i’m so sorry”, he told you again, pressing a soft kiss to your head. “it’s okay, i love you too”, you sighed, snuggling into his hold. “i thought you were gonna break up with me for a second…”, he confessed. you let out a laugh at this, causing him to laugh a bit as well. “i’d have to go crazy to break up with you”.
katsuki bakugo
- yeah… he was losing it 💀
- he expected you to get over the whole situation overnight and things would go back to normal the next day, but it was the complete opposite.
- you ignored him constantly throughout the entire day.
- even when he’d call out your name, you’d act like you didn’t hear anything.
- his final straw was when you tried to walk home without him.
- that’s when he snapped, he was tired of the hard feelings between you two and he couldn’t deal with it anymore, he wanted to fix it.
you felt a hold on your wrist that caused you let out a slight shriek, but you quickly calmed down when seeing who’s touch it was. of course, it was katsuki. “are we gonna talk about this or are you just gonna keep ignoring me?”, he asked, and surprisingly he seemed genuine too. “you made it known what place this relationship has in your life, i really don’t see what else there is to talk about”, you answered, your voice raw and harsh. he hated this side of you, and he hated being the reason for it. “i don’t- can you just listen to me?”, he somewhat begged, his voice quickly descending from annoyance to calmness. your eyes somewhat widened at his urgency. it wasn’t often that you saw him be so vulnerable in a sense, honestly you don’t ever recall seeing him like this. “i’m listening”, you muttered, crossing your arms over your chest as you stared at him, waiting to hear what he could possibly say. you had a hard time believing that he was actually about to take accountability for everything because based on previous events, he didn’t seem like the type to do so, ever. “ok… i know i fucked up. i’m not gonna stand here like a moron and act like there was a good reason for forgetting our anniversary because there wasn’t. i was just caught up with all my training that it slipped my mind, but i know that doesn’t make up for shit. and all those things i said last night, i didn’t mean it. any of it, i was being fuckin’ careless with my words. it wasn’t “just some anniversary”, it’s a big ass milestone, i know that and i wanna make it up to you. i treated you like straight shit and i regret it so, so bad. i… i’m sorry”, he spoke firmly, making sure you knew his words were genuine, and you definitely did. your eyes were blown open, shocked at the speech he just gave. you never thought you’d ever see him so apologetic or ever hear him say things like these. you could feel tears pricking your eyes, but you quickly pushed them away, letting out a soft giggle. he raised an eyebrow but quickly lost his composure when you jumped into his arms, holding onto him tightly. “t-thank you katsuki. this means the world to me, seriously. i forgive you”, you sniffled, hiding your face in his neck. he let out a chuckle, hugging you back. “yeah, yeah. and i’m serious ‘bout what i said, im gonna take my sweet girl on a proper anniversary date, alright?”, he smirked, rubbing your back. “yeah, that sounds perfect”.
shoto todoroki
- the difference between shoto and the other two is that he didn’t even wait till the next day to talk to you 😭
- he wanted to make things right between you two and fast, you knew how much he hated ending things on a bad note between you two.
- he made his way to your dorm, determined to gain your forgiveness
- it was when when he got to your dorm and heard sniffling from the outside, his heart ached. he knew how bad he messed up.
leaning against the door separating you from him, he heard soft sobs and sniffles, causing his heart to ache a bit. he never wanted to be the one responsible for your tears and sadness. he was meant to be the person to take that all away from you, but yet here he was, being the reason you were crying alone in a dark room late at night. he gently knocked against the door, and once he did the noises behind the door came to an immediate stop. “y/n, it’s me… can we talk?”, he asked, his fist still on the door as he waited for an answer. a few seconds went by, nothing. he knew you were in there, so he figured you were either ignoring him or just didn’t want to face him. “i know you’re in there, but i understand if you don’t want to talk to me right now… i’ll still say what i have to say anyway”, he started, clearing his throat. on the other side of the door, you were scooting closer to the door, wanting to hear what he had to say. you weren’t going to open the door, you couldn’t face him with how much of a mess you were in. you didn’t want him to see you in such a weak state because of him. “i’m so sorry for what i said earlier. i didn’t mean any of it. my father gave me a hard time when i visited and natsuo was also pushing it with him, it was just a mess. that’s why i was so upset, but that doesn’t matter anymore. i should’ve talked to you instead of holding it all in. it’s like you said, if i keep holding in all my problems, i’ll burst, and that’s what happened. you didn’t deserve that at all, and i’m so sorry. i didn’t mean any of it”, he confessed. he waited a couple moments, praying that you’d respond. when he heard nothing, he rested his forehead against the door, sighing. “i’m not leaving until i know you’re okay”, he muttered. little did he know on the other side of the door, you were tearing up all over again. you quickly stood up, unlocking the door and whipping it open as you jumped into his arms. he was startled but quickly wrapped his arms around you, sighing with relief. “i love you, sho… it’s all fine now, i forgive you”, you told him, your voice a bit shaky as you smiled, hiding you face in his neck. “i love you so much more”, he muttered. he took you out of his arms for a moment, taking your face into his hands. he let out a sad sigh at your bloodshot eyes and red nose, feeling so guilty. “i’m sorry, so sorry my love”, he muttered, pressing a soft kiss to your lips and then your forehead. “it’s alright now, just promise me you’ll talk to me from now on, ‘kay?”, “i promise”.
© mirkoluvs. please do not copy, modify, or repost on other platforms. thank you !!
#mha fanfiction#bakugo katuski#bakugo x reader#mha#mha scenarios#mha x reader#deku fluff#deku x reader#mha imagines#shoto todoroki#todoroki imagine#todoroki x reader#bakugo imagine#deku imagine#izuku midoriya#mha comfort#deku comfort#bakugo comfort#todoroki comfort
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ALR LEMME TWEAK MY VOX X SUB!READER SMUT RQ-
my lame ass excuse for a plot: Being bratty and annoying vox during working hours, like constantly pestering him for 0 reason and eventually he gets fed up with your shenanigans and snaps (insert whatever happens nex here)
SOUNDS HOT i'm up for it
gonna put it into bullet points to help me get it all goin cus longer stuff ain't my strong suit and i'm already workin on two longer fics
warnings: smut. spanking. reader is a goddamn brat. edging. punishment. unprotected sex (don't do this).
- "Voooox. I'm bored. Can we hang out?"
"No, I told you. I'm busy. So why don't you go keep yourself entertained while I work." Vox insisted, beginning to grow frustrated with your antics. You, however, were having none of it.
- Taking his phone out of his hand and tossing it aside, trying to get his attention, only for him to take a deep breath through clenched teeth as he veeery gently redirected you to go somewhere else, picking his phone back up. He was starting to lose his cool now.
- Sitting nearby, continuing to whine and complain about how bored you are, noticing his eye begin to twitch, before half his face is beginning to actually glitch with pure frustration.
- Eventually, he loses it, and gets up from his chair to grab you by the collar, pulling you to his desk and bending you over it.
"If you can't help but be so fucking bothersome, then I guess I'll just have to deal with you."
- His voice takes on the static effect when he's getting really riled up. And it's the sexiest fucking thing ever.
- It starts off with spanking, his sharp hands catching on your skin, making the flesh bloom a rosy shade of red. He soothingly rubs your ass after each spank, even though you both know his pity and care are fake. He's mocking you.
"Awh, poor girl. Did that hurt? Good."
- Before long, his fingers are inside you. He isn't too careful, since this is your punishment for bothering him while he works, for being such a goddamn little brat. but he isn't heartless. he knows you can't take him without some preparation.
- His fingers pick up the pace until you're just almost there, right on that edge of bliss, and then he stops.
- He lets you come down from the close edge, before replacing his fingers with his cock (and what a cock it is).
- He's got you bent over his desk, holding your head down against it as he fucks you so hard the desk's legs scrape across the floor a little.
- "Is this entertaining enough for you? Good enough for a little fucking whore like you?"
- It isn't until your hole feels raw and your body feels like it's on fire that he begins to settle down, letting you cum, and pulling out. He watches with a satisfied smirk at the mixture of yours and his cum that drips down your thigh.
- "Can I finish my work now? Yeah? Good girl."
Sorry I know it's a little short but I hope you like it!
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Flyers - Jamie Drysdale
I love him so much and I wish him all the success in the world
I’m also trying not to hate cutter gauthier
I hope you enjoy, I like this one
Request and talk to me, pls and thx
It’s late in the evening when the shrill ring of your phone cuts through the silence of your bedroom. You glance at the screen and see your boyfriend calling. It’s not a FaceTime, and it’s always a FaceTime, so you’re confused, and your heart skips a beat as you answer him.
“Hello?”
It’s silent on the other end, but you can hear him lightly breathing and shuffling around.
“Jame?”
Before he even utters a word, you feel a subtle shift in the atmosphere. There is a reason he didn’t FaceTime, and there is a reason his usual warmth and cheer is replaced by a heavy silence. As the seconds tick by, you can sense his hesitation, and an unsettling sense unfolds in your stomach.
You hear him take a shaky inhale, hold it for a second, and then he breathes out.
“They traded me.”
His voice is raw, and it trembles with unusual vulnerability. In a single second, your heart shatters into a million pieces. Before you can even fully comprehend what he said, tears are pooling in your eyes, and your hand is clasping at your mouth.
“They what?” You ask.
“They just told me. I’m going to the flyers. They want me there tomorrow.”
Finally, the news settles in. Your boyfriend was traded. Jamie was fucking traded.
A million thoughts rush through your head. Jamie has to move. He has to leave Trevor. He has to pack up his entire life in a single night and fly across the country.
Silent tears are streaming down your face, and you realize you’ve stayed quiet for way too long. You also know you need to get a fucking grip. This isn’t about you, and you need to get your shit together because he needs you right now.
So, you take a deep breath and calm the fuck down.
“Are you okay?”
You hear him shuffling around again, probably packing up all his things. He doesn’t say anything for a minute, and you patiently wait until he’s ready.
“I don’t know. It hasn’t really set in yet. Doesn’t feel real.”
A sharp pain thumps through your chest at his words. He continues.
“I’m trying not to feel anything, honestly. I’m trying not to think about everything I have here.” His voice breaks. “But it’s been my home, and I don’t want to leave.”
You finally hear him break, and you would pay any sum of money to be able to teleport to him now. It wrecks you that you can’t be there to hold him during this time. You can’t begin to imagine what he’s feeling. You know he’s thinking about everything that Anaheim has given him. You know he’s
recounting the countless memories made on and off the ice, the shared victories and losses, and the deep bonds formed with teammates.
“Jamie.” You start, then stop.
“Yeah?” He asks softly.
“This absolutely sucks, and I’m so so sorry.” You pause. “The ducks are the biggest idiots in the world, and they don’t deserve you.“
Jamie's breath catches on the other end; it’s a mixture of a chuckle and a sob escaping him. You smile a bit because your words seem to reach through the distance, a small lifeline in the whirlwind of emotions he’s currently facing. He takes a moment before responding.
“Thanks, babe. It means a lot to hear that right now.” He sighs again. “I just never expected this, you know? Everything’s changing so fast. I love it here, and it kills me that I won't be part of it anymore.”
You nod, even though he can't see it. It’s as if the very fabric of his life is unraveling, and you wish you could weave it back together. But all you can do is sit here and listen to him and try your best to be his anchor in the storm of uncertainty.
“I wish I were there with you, help you pack, give you a hug,” you say miserably.
“Me too. he admits, another sad sigh escaping him.
You sit there again for a couple of minutes, listening to him pack and offering your presence. You finally hear him close to the phone again, and he breaks the silence.
“I'm scared (Y/N). It’s a whole new team. I don't want to let anyone down, especially you,” he confesses.
You want to punch him. He knows better. Not once, ever, has Jamie let you down, and you sure as hell know that he never will.
“That's enough of that, Jame, you could never let me down. Nerves are normal, but I also know the player you are. You’ve got this, and I’ve got your back. Always.”
He lets out a quiet okay and quickly hangs up the phone. You’re confused for a brief moment before his FaceTime pops up. You answer in a heartbeat, and a wide smile takes over your features as you finally get to look at your boyfriend.
He looks tired, and his eyes are a bit red, but he has a soft smile, and you know that everything is going to be okay.
For the next couple of minutes, you talk it out. You discuss the logistics, the challenges that lie ahead, and the uncertainty of the future. You do your best to hype him up, and as the logistics conversation draws to a close, a somber calm settles over the two of you. You can finally sense a shift in his tone, a quiet acceptance mingled with some determination.
“We are gonna figure this out, won't we?” Jamie asks a trace of hope in his voice.
“Yes. Besides, I like the flyers. Way better than those losers in Anaheim,” you assure him.
Jamie chuckles a bit, and then a hilarious thought crosses your mind.
“Oh my god.” Panic laces your voice, and Jamie furrows his eyebrows.
“What?”
You start laughing, suddenly very happy.
“You’re gonna be with Gritty!”
You can’t help but roll over with laughter, knowing your shy-as-hell boyfriend is going to be on the team with the most infamous and chaotic mascot ever. You can’t even begin to explain how giddy this makes you, and Jamie lets out a small groan but begins laughing with you anyway.
After you settle down, wiping the new happy tears away, you smile a wide smile at him again.
“You know, I’m still on break. Maybe I should come down and be there for your first game?”
Just like that, your boyfriend is back, and the smile you’re so in love with takes over his features.
“Really?”
“Absolutely. I can think of no better way to end my break than being with you.“ You beam at him. “Besides, I have to scope out the team. Let em know that they have a new hotshot player who has the hottest girlfriend ever.
He barks out another laugh at you, but you know he agrees one hundred percent with your statement.
“God, I love you,” he says, the words carrying the weight of the world.
“I love you too,” you respond, “This is honestly exciting, Jame. You have great things coming. I can feel it.”
#hockey#hockey boys#imagine#nhl hockey#nhl imagine#hockey fic#hockey imagine#hockey x reader#nhl x reader#jamie drysdale imagine#jamie drysdale x reader#jamie drysdale#trevor zegras#flyers hockey#philadelphia flyers#anaheim ducks#nhl blurb#nhl24#nhl fic#nhl fanfiction#nhl players#nhl
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if we make it through december
cw: mentions of holiday celebrations, family & childhood trauma, suna is a bit thick in the head but he's trying, i love u all and am giving u a very big hug this holiday season
The floors of your apartment creak beneath light footsteps when you tiptoe into the kitchen to click the heat on.
You keep forgetting that it's December now and that your heat should be switched to automatic rather than the manual setting it's still set to. Mornings like this where your nose is a bit raw from a dry sleep and you hiss at the cold floor skimming your bare feet remind you that the year has indeed passed.
In the almost year that the two of you have been together, you've learned that Rintaro sleeps both cold and like a damn log. Crawling from his dead-weight grasp early this morning was no challenge, and while your teeth are nearly chattering, you know he's more than comfortable beneath the sheets of your bed.
While you wait for the radiator to squeal and signal that it's doing its job, you fall into the usual routine of filling your kettle and preparing a cup of tea. You don't expect your lover to be up for a while, so you plan to preoccupy (and warm) yourself for a bit before he finally stumbles down the hall.
Water quickly boils and ceramic clanks together in the cabinet. And before you know it, you're silently admiring a freshly brewed cup of tea and adding your usual like of milk to it.
While lost in a spoonwork of swirling colors, you abruptly feel two cold hands inching beneath your sleep shirt. Instinctually, you hiss at the unwelcoming feeling as palms flatten and rub themselves against your goosebump-covered skin.
Into the back of your head, you hear Rintaro chuckle at your dramatics. He pulls you closer and kneels a bit so his chin can comfortably rest in the dent of your shoulder. You loosen a bit as he places a gentle kiss on your temple.
He clears his raspy throat, "Sorry, baby."
Rintaro laughs again when he feels you sigh but relax into his nippy touch. Loosening his hold on you, he allows you to shimmy around and face him - puffy morning eyes and all.
Between his steady arms and the kitchen counter, you raise your mug to his chapped lips. He gently blows on the top before taking a small taste, humming his thanks and approval at the warm sweetness on his tongue.
Your morning is enjoyed through shared sips and quiet words, and it feels like it's always supposed to be like this. It's warm and inviting, like a home you never really had unless you were asleep and yearning for it.
With a chilled nose and slightly burnt tongue, you're grateful.
"I've been meaning to ask you," Rintaro takes one more sip and swallows before letting you cradle it between your hands. "What're your plans for the holidays?"
You feel something crack inside of you. It's a tough thing to explain, but your heart sinks at his innocent question.
Not yet having spent a holiday together, you weren't naive to the fact that this conversation was inevitable. You'd expected it eventually, maybe not so soon; but again, the feeling of your apartment's heat finally kicking in reminds you that it is December and soon isn't really soon at all.
Trying too hard to be casual, you shrug and take a drink of your own, "Uh, nothing really."
You watch the corners of his mouth twitch with amusement. "Nothing?" he dryly chuckles.
Biting the inside of your cheek and praying to whoever is listening for him to just drop it, you choose to shrug once more.
He crinkles his nose with faux mocking,
"Nothing like 'boring family holiday party' nothing? Or 'stupid traditions you need to play along with, just to say you did' nothing?"
Feigning casualty and doing your best to look at anything that's not his eyes, you shake your head.
"Nah, I was just gonna stay here. Maybe make those cheap sugar cookies I like but," you gesture to the painfully silent apartment around you and preoccupy your mouth against the rim of your cup before weakly finishing, "...yeah."
You can see the gears quickly turning in Rintaro's head as he scans your face for any sign of humor; when he doesn't find one, he realizes that you're serious.
"Oh—I guess I just figured you'd be flying back to see your parents."
"No, I—” you wince at your own voice as you stutter on an explanation before pathetically deciding on, "—don't do that."
Quizzically, Rintaro's head turns to the side in thought. He backs up a bit, and you internally frown at the loss of warmth when he leans against the opposite counter to take a good look at you.
"What do you mean, you don't do that?"
He asks and there's no sourness in his voice. He's just asking—just wants to know and understand you as best as he can. And it kind of makes you nauseous with a feeling you instantly want to rid of.
You rub your sock-covered feet together in anxiousness, "We don't really talk."
"I mean, I don't talk to most of my family either, but I still go home for the holidays and show my face, do that weird small talk thing with them."
At any other moment, you'd laugh at his casual bluntness, but you don't have it in you when you know you aren't really on the same page.
With a weak smile, you shake your head and attempt to wrap up the situation once more. "It's no big deal. I'm all set."
Quick both on and off the court, he doesn't falter when he presses. "Well, when was the last time you saw them?"
You awkwardly laugh and do that thing you do, where your nose crinkles in hesitancy, knowing that he won't like your answer. Because even if Rintaro doesn't know everything about you, he does know a hell of a lot; and he'll be damned if he doesn't keep on learning more.
"Are you telling me that your family hasn't seen you in years?" he breathes in disbelief, unable to wrap his head around not spending time with his own parents and sister.
Feeling your patience wearing a bit thin at his innocent prodding of your insecurity, you sigh.
"It's just how things are with us."
Silence overtakes the small space of kitchen between the two of you. Rintaro stares at you, not with a judgemental gaze like everyone else who eventually finds this information out about you, but with a bittersweet one, as if he's trying to sort through and rotate your fragile puzzle pieces before being confident enough to insert them into place.
His voice comes in a soft whisper after a few moments, "You're really not going?"
"I… wasn't invited," you mimic his pitch without meeting his eyes.
"You… weren't invited home?"
"It's not really a home," you mumble, eyes stuck to the ground when you reassure him, "like I said, it's just complicated. I'm good, Rin."
Another gentle staring contest ensues, one with no words being said but a whole lot of unsaid thoughts ebbing and flowing between the two of you.
Just as you begin to crumble beneath his heavy gaze, Rintaro sighs and closes the gap between the two of you again. His hands carefully find your sides like they always do, but this time with a bit more caution. He's careful when he easily lifts you onto the counter, trying to make it a bit easier for him to hold your gaze.
You feel like a child again, guilt rotting in the pit of your stomach as your eyes are glued to your feet swinging against the lower cabinets of your kitchen. You wonder if the floorboards can swallow you up, take you back to that place of stable loneliness.
"You know you can tell me these things, right?" he softly kisses into your hairline. "You don't have to, but you can."
You nod against his movements, not really wanting to explain but knowing you should. It's Rintaro, you know he'll understand, but a small part of you can't help but still errs on the side of caution.
"It's for the better, really."
Your words are muffled against his chest. You feel hum nod slowly, letting you take your time while silently encouraging you to continue if you'd like.
And you do.
"Just didn't have a great childhood. Lots of dealing with my parents' mistakes and helping out with my siblings because of it."
Tender fingers skim the soft angle of your jaw when Rintaro hums, "That was really brave of you."
You feel that wall building itself up again, but you can't stop it, don't know how to. "It was fine," you shrug off his kindness, deflecting it how you know to.
And the small, sane part of you sighs in relief because Rintaro notices. He can't help but notice.
He presses against your skin, "It wasn't. Kids aren't supposed to raise kids."
He's right, you know he is. You wish you could just say that, but all that comes out of your mouth is a detached, "Well, it's over now."
"It is," he gently agrees with your words, taking a thumb to your bottom lip and tilting your head upwards, "and I'm proud of you. You did good, baby."
You're little again, and there's suddenly no room for the praise to fit inside of you. Your body rejects it, forces it to well up in your eyes and trickle down your cheeks in a feeble attempt to rid of the uneasy feeling in your throat.
And you're crying. Wetly and awkwardly laughing, you quickly flick the tears from your cheeks as you shy away from the intimacy. "Ew, sorry. Thanks."
Rintaro sadly smiles at you--always sorry for nothing, and now he's beginning to understand why.
"C'mere," he cradles the back of your head again and lets you breathe in the scent of his hoodie.
"Sorry—"
"Stop apologizing," he firmly kisses your forehead, hoping for it to seep beneath your skin and stick itself inside of you.
He feels your smaller frame shake against him, and he's instantly relieved to know it's out of a weak laugh rather than a sob. You murmur, "I just—I'm sure you know by now that I—can't really handle nice things."
"Hey," his now warm hand rubs circles on your back, "you deserve nice things, y'know?"
No longer letting you shy away from his words, he uses his free hand to lift your jaw upwards again. Met with your teary eyes and sniffing nose, he peppers kisses against your skin with care.
"And if you'd stop being so stubborn all the time, maybe I could give you nice things more often, yeah?"
His heart flutters when you roll your eyes at his words, and he can't bite back the smile that crawls across his face at your usual attitude.
As he caresses your damp cheek with slender fingers, you speak into the side of his palm. "You give me enough nice things."
Rintaro smiles but shakes his head, "Really, I don't."
Another big shaky breath rocks your frame, and Rintaro melts at your bravery when you tell him, "No one's ever really cared for me the way you do, and I guess it freaks me out sometimes." You catch yourself almost apologizing for it, but bite your tongue; and as if he too notices it, he smiles with pride.
"We can work on it," he promises, hand heavy on your back, "I'm not goin' anywhere."
He holds you for as long as you'll let him, and in a tangle of limbs and soft kisses, you sway in one another's warmth. It's just the two of you, in your tiny kitchen apartment with shitty heating, when he says--
"So, what are our holiday plans?"
"Our?" You shoot him a weak warning glare. "I said I'm staying here. You should go home though, it'll be nice to see your sister."
"We will be going home, yeah. Mom's been annoying me about meeting in person you, anyways."
Your eyes find his and that unsettling feeling fills your heart once more, but this time, it seeps further than your throat. It's in the tips of your fingers and works its way down to your sock-clad toes. It's in your lungs, entering with every inhale and doubling with each exhale.
It's everywhere—and even though it's terrifying, you sit with it. Because it's yours.
He gently brushes some stray hairs behind your ear and sighs, "And if I'm gonna sit through a painful holiday dinner, think I'm gonna need you there to hold my hand."
#SO PERSONAL LOOK AWAY#me and reader 🤝 crying when someone say they’re proud of us#suna x reader#suna x you#suna rintaro x reader#suna rintaro x you#suna fic#suna angst#suna fluff#suna rintaro fic#suna rintaro angst#suna rintaro fluff
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hi! i hope you're having a good day<3 i was wondering if you could write a remus x fem!reader where they aren't really dating but everyone knows they like each other (them included) where r has kinda mean friends? like, they leave her out of everything and she constantly feels bad about it. and ever time she tells remus he's like "you should drop them, you deserve better" and he's just trying to get her to see that she deserves better?
Thank you <3
modern au
Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 736 words
Remus can feel a heaviness building where you sit on the couch next to him.
He lets his eyes slide subtly in your direction, and you’re frowning at your phone. Not an upset frown, no pursed lips or drawn brows, just a slight downturn of the corners of your mouth. You look defeated, and Remus can’t abide it.
“Everything alright, love?”
Predictably, you soften like butter at the endearment, and your expression as you turn to him is kind if not happy. “Yeah, I’m good,” you say, and Remus pretends not to know it’s a lie. He waits. Your eyes drop to his shoulder, one thumbnail picking at the other distractedly. “I just wish…I wish that if my friends were going to hang out without me, they’d at least not post so much about it.”
A familiar ache starts up in his chest. “Oh no. What’ve they done?”
You shrug like it’s little to you, but he sees the way you press your lips together, the faint redness creeping up from your neck. He hopes you don’t cry, if only to spare his delicate heart.
“They’re all at Hannah’s place, I guess. Going to go see the new movie premiere.” You laugh. It sounds raw. “I actually asked them if they wanted to go do that tonight, and they all said they were busy.”
The frailty of your voice works like glass shards, cleaving Remus clean open. “Darling,” he says, and he doesn’t care that you’re not official enough to acknowledge the endearment in its full capacity. You both know he means it well enough. His hand slides atop yours the way one tempers one ingredient by adding a tiny bit of another before the rest. You soften at his touch, and Remus goes all the way, curling his arms under yours to give your back a firm squeeze. “I know you’re sick of hearing it from me, but they really don’t deserve you.”
A tiny drop of warm wetness slides from your face to his shirt. His own fault, really, but if a good cry is what you need he’s ready to indulge you. “I just want to know what it is about me that makes me so terrible to be around,” you weep, and Remus crushes you to his front unthinkingly, a protective ire swelling within him. He wishes he could go to your friend’s house and give these girls a talking-to right now, but you probably wouldn’t thank him for it. He settles for dragging his palm up and down your back, hip to shoulder and back again.
“Don’t say that,” he pleads with you.
“I know, I’m sorry.” Your sigh is a stilted, shuddering thing. “I’m putting you in an awful position. I don’t mean to fish for compliments.”
“I know,” he promises, his hand stopping where Remus can feel your heart beating through the material of your shirt. “And I’m not saying it out of any sense of obligation, but you really are lovely to be around. I mean” —he pulls back so you can see his face, hoping the sincerity in it will make some headway against your self-doubt— “would I be here if you weren’t?”
You give him a small smile, thin-lipped. “You’re very nice.”
Remus laughs, wrapping his fingers around your upper arms and barely restraining himself from trying to shake some sense into you. “I’m not that nice. But okay, Sirius would never hang around anyone he didn’t actually like, can we agree there?” He takes your silence for acquiescence, and, with a gentle smile, goes on. “Every one of our friends sees how kind, and smart, and lovely you are. They” —he shoots a pointed look at your phone— “are the only ones who don’t. That’s how I know you’re not the problem, sweetheart,” he says, softer now. “They are.”
You look him in the eyes as you take a deep breath. This one goes in and out steadier than the last, and some of the tension in his own chest eases. “Thank you,” you tell him.
Remus can’t help himself; he pulls you in for another hug, selfish to his core. “No thanks necessary,” he says firmly.
“I guess the only thing to do,” you say, voice muffled against his shoulder, “is to stop trying to make plans with them and hang out exclusively with you.”
Remus laughs. He doesn’t hate the sound of that.
#remus lupin#remus lupin x reader#remus lupin x fem!reader#remus lupin x you#remus lupin x y/n#remus lupin x self insert#remus lupin fanfiction#remus lupin fanfic#remus lupin fic#remus lupin drabble#remus lupin scenario#remus lupin imagine#remus lupin oneshot#remus lupin one shot#remus lupin fluff#the marauders#marauders era#marauders#marauders fanfic#marauders fic#the marauders era#marauders fanfiction#marauders fandom#hp marauders
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