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rinhaler · 7 months

Note

assuming ur reqs are still open, can we please get younger stepbro!megumi watching you get off through a peephole in the wall? and like you know he's watching so you call him a little perv and he gets harder 👀

i'm sorry if it's too specific sdjsdjsjjls ofc u don't have to do this, have a lovely day!!

-a follower who's too shy to come off anon

I hope this is okay for you! I've never really thought about writing a younger step brother thing before since I'm not into younger guys myself but I hope I made it fun for you to read, enjoy my angel!

warnings: 18+ MDNI, fem!reader, masturbation (m+f), voyeurism, vibrator use, stepcest ofc.

words: 1.1k

Going from being an only child to having a little brother was always going to be a big adjustment. It’s not like you’re that much older, but moving into a new home to accommodate a four person and two dog household was a big change. You had your own room on the ground floor of your old home. Your mother didn’t stop you from coming and going as you pleased.

But now, you have a room directly next door to Megumi.

You’re always butting heads and even your stepdad has been giving you trouble since your family merged. You have a curfew for the first time in your life. You aren’t allowed boys over and you haven’t been able to party in months. You’re frustrated. Constantly pent up from the lack of excitement in your life.

Megumi hasn’t helped the situation in the least. He’s a quiet introvert with a wicked tongue when he starts. You argue a lot, and he always gets you into trouble. You’re the wayward party girl. Whereas he’s the studious quiet guy that couldn’t ever put a foot wrong.

You’re going stir crazy.

And it’s been weeks since you got laid.

You took a risk when you decided to order a new vibrator to alleviate your tension. If you can’t satiate it with sex, a big pink wand will have to do. You didn’t want to get caught by a stupid mistake like your parents or your brother opening the parcel. So you ordered it to a friend’s house. She didn’t judge, but she dropped it off the very next day for you, winking and telling you not to have too much fun.

Fingers aren’t enough, they haven’t been for years.

The only thing that can relieve your growing tension is the buzz of a vibrator. You have small bullets and they do just fine, but if your stepdad is insisting on you having no life and no hook ups, you knew you had to up the ante.

The only other person home right now is Megumi. Your parents are at work and you quite frankly can’t wait to watch some porn and cum all over your toy. You hurry up the stairs and take it out of the packaging. You test to see if it has any charge, it does, and decide to forgo charging. You don’t care about a lengthy edging session. You just want to cum.

And you’ve known about the sick little hole Megumi drilled between your bedrooms for weeks now. He thought you weren’t home when he did it, opting to hide when he started peeping through. It’s behind a Weezer poster adjacent to his bed. You’ve seen the familiar green eye numerous times and opted not to say anything. Not because you want him to leer at you. But because you’re holding it to use as ammunition next time he really pisses you off.

You hear the indiscreet sound of his poster moving after you test the buzz of your vibrator. And you smirk, hearing how he carefully tries to unzip his pants and groans softly the second his hand holds his cock.

It’s an all too familiar sound, now. Him wanking over you at any given chance. It’s weird considering he has zero interest in you as a human being, doing anything he can to hinder your life. But watching you undress slowly everyday multiple times leaves him spent. And the intimate moments after dark that you have to yourself and the quietly playing porn you choose to watch on your phone are the highlights of his day.

He strokes himself slowly as you strip down to nothing, you’re teasing him as you fondle your breasts before getting comfortable on your bed. You settle for some lewd ASMR. A random man with a deep voice telling you what a good girl you are among other things. You do exaggerate a few moans, pretending that you have no idea that your brother is home and playing with himself over you.

It feels incredible.

You knew a wand would be powerful, but you had no idea to this extent.

“O-Oh, fuck, shit—” you gasp, cumming almost instantly as you up the speed to full. You’re shaking and shivering as your orgasm rips through you, and the sheer quickness of it all makes you burst into laughter. You cover your mouth, giggling, in a state of disbelief of how amazing this pink silicone toy is.

Megumi licks his lips, beating himself off quicker after realising you’ve came already. He hadn’t expected you to finish so quickly, but he keeps replaying the sound of your moans in his mind as he tries to chase you in your release. But he slows, again, when he hears you restart the wand. He grunts, too loudly, as he watches your hips roll into the wand, chasing the feeling of that release again.

“Such a little perv, Megumi.” you moan… not stopping the buzzing against your clit as you talk to him. “W-What would dad think? If he knew you were getting hard and cumming over me?”

He bites his lips, unable to believe you knew he was doing this. And even more shocked that you aren’t stopping, letting him watch you. Maybe even getting off on it? If he’s a perv, what does that make you?

But he knows he’s a perv. He’s had a thing for you since the minute he set eyes on you. Unable to believe how brazen you were with bringing boys home and making out with them without a care in front of your parents. Toji hated it, and so did Megumi. But he couldn’t deny it turned him on. And seeing how riled up you were getting after Toji’s boy ban was when he knew he had to take the plunge and make a little peephole for himself.

Spying on you every chance he got whenever you felt particularly needy or just wanted to change your outfit. He’s had so many jerk-off sessions to you thinking you were clueless.

But you’ve known… the whole time. It’s too much for him. It’s going to bring him to his fucking end.

“You’re such a slut…” he pants, his teeth piercing the skin on his lip enough to draw blood.

“I-I’d rather be a- a slut. Meg-umi. Than a gross little perv like you. Watchin’ me cum everyday… watchin’ me change… such a sicko. Hnng—!” you tense up, trying to hold back your orgasm while taunting your brother.

He cums, spurting white globs all over his fist and up the wall. You hear him hissing and grunting as he finishes, you even hear the sticky fisting sound over the buzz of your vibrator. He begins to pant, deep and heavy as a bead of sweat runs down his forehead.

“I hate you.” he mutters, putting his poster back down and moving away to clean himself up.

“Awe, come back Megs!” you giggle. “Don’t you wanna watch me cum?”

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supernovafics · 8 months

Text

𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐈𝐒 𝐀 𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐄

"i'll be there for you" universe masterlist

pairing: bestfriend!roommate!steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: 5.6k words

warnings: explicit language, alcohol consumption, mentions of weed, “the beatles” slander (sorry?), just a lil bit of angst

summary: in which you force you and steve to have a housewarming party

general note: everything in this universe/series can be read as standalone oneshots but to understand the full “lore” it would prob be best to read the other stuff too<333

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Fall 1985

“Oh no, you’re playing The Beatles at full volume... On a scale of one to ten, how worried should I be for you right now?”

Hearing Steve’s voice right then put a timestamp on how long you’d been in your current position— lying in the dark on the couch in the living room of your shared apartment, an oversized hoodie, which just so happened to be Steve’s, covering your body; even the hood was pulled over your head because you wanted to feel completely cocooned.

He finished his shift at Family Video at seven and the drive usually took no more than twenty minutes, and you’d gotten home from your last class around five. That meant you’d been sulking for over two hours. A part of you felt a bit disappointed in yourself.

Not enough to stop sulking and get up from the couch, though.

Steve flicked on the light, which made you groan and pull on the strings of the hoodie so that your eyes were covered too, and then he walked over to where the record player sat atop a low shelf that was full of books, magazines, and random trinkets including a pink piggy bank that contained stray arcade tokens rather than actual money. He turned off the record player, putting a stop to the Abbey Road vinyl that you had been playing on repeat for hours. You absolutely detested The Beatles so whenever you were in a melancholic mood, it felt only right to play their music.

“Our neighbors probably hate us now,” Steve said as he joined you on the couch, moving your legs for a moment so that he could sit down and then placing them over his lap. “If we don’t get the cookie basket from Miss Johnson for Christmas, I fully blame you.”

He expected that to get a laugh or at least a smile out of you. The mention of the sweet old woman a few doors down who had given you two a welcome basket full of freshly baked muffins when you moved in and then promised to bring you the cookies that she always made and gave to people in the building during the holidays.

You didn’t do either of those things though. Your mouth felt too stuck in a straight line to even think about smiling. Therefore, you instead disregarded everything Steve had said since he’d entered the apartment and mumbled, “Why are guys such idiots?”

He placed a hand over his heart as if he’d just been wounded. “Ouch.”

You pulled the hood off your head and then propped yourself up by your elbows to finally look at him. “Obviously, you’re the exception.” You then thought about your words for a brief moment. “Well, sometimes.”

“Double ouch,” He said. “But yes, guys are idiots. Which one are you talking about, in particular? Charlie?”

You sighed and looked away. “Sadly.”

“He’s lasted longer than I expected,” Steve told you. He fully thought that the crush you had on this guy from your early morning Statistics class wouldn’t stem past a few weeks.

“At this point, I wish I didn’t like him anymore,” You responded and then looked at Steve again, a small amused smile gracing your lips as you thought of something. “Any hot people come into Family Video lately?”

Steve simply laughed and shook his head at you.

It was almost too easy for you to develop a crush on someone. So much so that many of them you wouldn’t even mention to Steve or your other friends because of how fast they’d come and go.

Most of the time, the inevitable abrupt ending of the crushes would leave you feeling something adjacent to heartbreak because most of the guys you’d ended up liking were, in fact, idiots, or you’d feel disappointment because your feelings never lived up to how they were at the beginning of the crush. But there was always still something about the idea of liking someone that was surprisingly fun to you. You wouldn’t necessarily call yourself a hopeless romantic, but it sometimes felt as if you were exactly that.

You finally sat up from the couch and moved close to Steve. “Okay, spare me the supportive best friend ‘we’ve known each other since we were ten and I only want the best for you’ spiel for a few moments and just answer a quick question for me, okay?”

Although he was completely confused and would’ve killed for more context, Steve nodded at your current antics. “Okay.”

“If we had just finished a really hard test, and you were worried about how you did on it, and I did this,” You grabbed his hand, linking it with yours and giving him the sweetest smile that was typically only reserved for when you were hardcore flirting with someone. “While saying ‘I’m sure you did great,’ you would understand that I have a massive crush on you, right?”

He glanced down at your intertwined hands for a brief moment before ultimately nodding. “Yeah. Yeah, I would.”

“Exactly,” You said as you dropped Steve’s hand and then slumped back against the couch. “So Charlie pulling away— no smile back or anything— and simply saying, ‘Thanks. You probably did good too,’ in response to that means either he can’t read my stupidly obvious flirting cues, or he’s not into me. And, honestly, I’m almost certain it’s the second one.” Suddenly you were hit with a fresh wave of sadness and you pulled the hood over your head once again. “Please put back on The Beatles and let me wallow in peace for the rest of the night. I promise I’ll be better by the morning.”

“I’d rather hear Harold running on his squeaky wheel all night than The Beatles on repeat,” He said and you actually perked up at the mention of the pet you two had gotten only a few months ago, barely a week after you’d fully moved into the apartment, the brown and white furry creature formally known as “Harold the Hamster.”

Currently, he was sleeping only a few feet away in his cage that sat on the coffee table. Somehow he managed to be completely unbothered by the music you’d been loudly playing.

“Okay, how about this,” Steve started. “Let’s order a pizza from that place close by. I’ll even suffer and let you put olives on it.”

You pushed the hood off your head again so that you could look at your best friend, only slightly intrigued by what he was saying. “Keep talking…”

“And then we’ll watch The Breakfast Club because you love it and you immediately rented it out from Family Video when we got it in,” He continued and you perked up even more at the mention of one of your favorite movies. “Which, by the way, is a copy that is weeks overdue and has probably racked up an insane amount of late fees at this point.”

You smiled at him. “Good thing I know someone who works there. And he would never let me pay any late fees.”

“Wow, he sounds like a great guy.”

You shrugged as you looked away from Steve. “Meh, he’s alright.”

He immediately poked your side, causing you to laugh loudly. “I’m gonna make you pay all of the late fees now.”

“That’s very evil,” You said with a shake of your head, but you were still laughing because you knew that he wasn’t being serious.

Steve ordered the pizza as you put the Breakfast Club tape in and then you both settled on the couch again. You had probably watched the movie five times since you rented it, but somehow you hadn’t grown tired of it yet. Instead, it managed to effectively take your mind off of Charlie and the entire situation with him, at least for the time being.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Steve may have been the one who worked at Family Video, but you knew that place so well it was almost as if you worked there too. His almost never-changing schedule was practically seared into your brain, and you knew the exact times the place was always busy and the moments when it was pretty much dead aside from a handful of random customers.

Somehow Fridays at noon were one of the store’s emptiest times.

Steve was standing behind the counter sorting through movies on a cart when you walked in.

“Hello,” You smiled at him. “I come bearing one not-at-all overdue copy of The Breakfast Club and very fun news.”

Steve was quick to smile back when he saw you, but it dropped when it seemed as if he remembered something. “Shouldn’t you be in your Psychology class right now?” Just like you knew his schedule like the back of your hand, he knew yours. “Your parents will find a way to blame me if you’ve dropped out of school, y’know.”

“My professor canceled last minute; her sister went into labor. So, don’t worry, you won’t be hearing any sort of lecture from my parents,” You answered as you dug in your bag for the movie.

Steve grabbed it from your outstretched hand and placed it on the cart before looking back at you. “What's your news?”

“Okay, so remember when we were ten and on that cruise, and you liked this random girl from New Jersey— Rebecca, I’m pretty sure her name was?” You said. “She was sixteen, completely unattainable, but I still tried to help you talk to her.”

That cruise was actually when you and Steve met. It was a very weird serendipitous kind of moment where your parents bumped into his at the buffet one of the first few days and found out that they not only lived in Indiana, but in a town that was two over from yours, and they even had a son that was the same age as you.

You had been somewhere sitting by the pool when this romcom-esque “meet cute” happened, but when your parents found you, they introduced you to Steve. Although at first, it felt like a friendship that was being forced upon you both, it was still nice to have someone other than your parents— actually, someone better than your parents— to hang out with on the ten-day trip.

You beat him countless times at air hockey at the arcade onboard and the two of you spent most of the nights successfully sneaking into the “club” that was only meant for kids fifteen and up— which was where his crush on Rebecca began and subsequently ended.

“Yes, I remember that, not my finest moment. But, I also don’t blame her, it probably would’ve been weirder if she wanted to flirt back to a ten-year-old,” Steve responded and then furrowed his eyebrows. “Wait, I’m confused, though. Is your news that you found her or something?”

You immediately shook your head at his question. “No, what I’m gonna say actually has nothing to do with that, but I wanted to remind you of how supportive I was of you during that time, and how supportive you should be of me right now with what I’m about to say.”

“I’ll always support you,” He didn’t hesitate to tell you. “Unless you’re pitching the matching tattoos idea again. And then, in that case, I guess our decade-long friendship will have to end here.”

“One day I’ll eventually convince you to do it; mark my words. And the tattoo will be one of those stupidly cringey ones where we each get a flower with the other person’s name blooming out of it.”

Steve did nothing but groan and shake his head at you, which only made you laugh.

“But, anyway, my actual news is that we’re having a party tonight,” You said and then continued before he could say anything in response just yet. “Kind of like a housewarming party. I realized that we never really had one.”

“We did have one.”

You shook your head and let out a sound that was a cross between a scoff and a laugh. “Robin and Eddie coming over on our first night and all of us smoking weed on the fire escape and then falling asleep on our mattresses in the living room because we didn’t have any furniture yet did not count as our housewarming party.”

Steve laughed a bit. “It was very fun, though.”

“It was great,” You agreed with a nod. “But, not an actual party, so that's why we're having one tonight.”

Steve only looked at you for a moment and you knew that he was trying to read you. He was the only person that you were certain could completely see through you— he could tell what you were feeling even when it was too hard for you to put those muddled thoughts into words, and he could see right through all of the bullshit you’d spew at times. Sometimes it annoyed you, but most times it felt nice to be so completely seen and understood.

It only took a second for things to seemingly click into place for him. “Is all of this about Charlie?”

“No,” You immediately answered, but you didn’t even sound convincing to yourself.

Of course, Steve didn’t believe you at all and he didn’t have to verbally say that for you to know, the unspoken words were clear in the deadpan look he gave you.

“Okay, fine. Yes, it is,” You said and then sighed as you leaned against the counter. “I saw him today and he said that he was planning to go to this party tonight and he wasn’t that excited about it, but it’s better than doing nothing on a Friday. And then for some insane reason, I blurted out that he should come to my party tonight instead. In hindsight, I probably should’ve immediately backtracked when I said that, but I didn’t and instead, this whole “housewarming party” plan was born.”

“Is there any way I can say no to this?” Steve asked and you quickly shook your head.

“Sorry, but no. Remember what happened on the cruise. Remember how I tried to be helpful with Rebecca,” You told him as you walked around so that you were behind the counter with him. You began sifting through the cart which was full of movies that people had just returned. “And honestly, I just wanna use this party as a last-ditch effort to see if he likes me, and if not then I’ll just make out with someone else at the party to get over him. So, actually, this is a win-win situation no matter what, and this party needs to happen.”

Steve only sighed in response at first, which made you look at him again. He then was quiet for a moment before ultimately nodding and plastering on the brightest and fakest smile you’d probably ever seen from him. “Okay, fine, let’s throw the best two months late housewarming party ever.”

You smiled back at him. “Thank you.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

There were a lot of things Steve wanted to tell you.

One of the main things being how even though he hadn’t met him yet, he knew that Charlie definitely didn’t deserve you basically throwing a whole party for him just for you to see if he liked you back. Also, how actually most of the guys you ended up crushing on didn’t deserve your attention for a second.

However, he knew that he couldn’t tell you any of that. Not when you’d been there through his ups and downs when it came to dating, and not when you were always supportive; even though a lot of the time it was easy to tell that you weren’t the biggest fan of the girls he went out with.

Early on in your friendship, it was unspokenly decided that bearing through each other’s plethora of shitty relationships just came with the territory of being best friends, and whenever things inevitably went downhill you’d both just be there for each other to pick up the metaphoric pieces.

However, that didn’t mean he couldn’t internally roll his eyes when about an hour into the party he finally did meet Charlie. It was a brief interaction where you introduced them when he entered the apartment and then Steve almost immediately walked away because he knew that you wanted to be alone with Charlie. Well, as “alone” as you two could be with a party that was in full swing around you.

Your shared apartment quickly became full of at least forty people. It was a mix of people from your classes, the small handful of people from high school that you still sometimes talked to, a bunch of people that Steve knew, and anyone else that Robin and Eddie also wanted to invite. For a party thrown together at the last possible second, you both had to admit that it was a pretty solid turnout.

And also for a party that Steve hadn’t really wanted to have in the first place, he was actually having a good time. He was playing a drinking game version of Uno with Robin and a few others circled around the coffee table; Harold’s cage was placed next to him on the couch for the time being.

After a second round in a row where Robin won— she was always crazy good at the game— Steve wanted to ask you to join because he knew how much you loved the game, even though you were very bad at it. He was even tipsy enough that he would’ve been fine with Charlie joining in as well.

He looked around, trying to find you, and it was something that should’ve happened in seconds. No matter what, it was always somehow easy to spot each other in any sort of crowded room— how effortless it always was almost felt equivalent to some weird kind of party trick. However, this time, Steve couldn’t find you.

At first, he thought that that meant that things were going well with Charlie, but when he eventually spotted him standing in the kitchen talking and smiling at a girl who was definitely not you, he had a feeling that things had probably gone the opposite.

“I’m gonna sit out this round,” Steve said to Robin as he got up from the couch.

The short walk to your bedroom was more difficult than expected because maneuvering through all of the people in the apartment proved to be a battle in itself. He ignored the sign on your door that said “Keep Out!” which you put up right before the party started to discourage people from going into your room and using it as a place to make out or have sex; Steve also had a sign on his door.

When he walked in, he didn’t see you on your bed or sitting at your desk, or even lying on the floor, so he headed to the door right next to your closet that led to your bathroom.

“Hey, you in there?”

Twenty minutes ago, when you went into your bathroom, you had initially thought that you didn’t want to talk to or see anyone— you wanted to wallow alone and in silence. But, it turned out that hearing Steve’s voice right then didn’t annoy you or make you upset. Instead, it was the exact voice you wanted to hear in that moment— because, of course, Steve never counted as just anyone.

You were sitting in your empty white tub. The cool porcelain felt nice against the exposed parts of your skin that the dress you were wearing didn’t cover, and you thought that the small confines of your bathroom would be the perfect place to spend the rest of your night; a night that had gone downhill almost too fast.

“Yes,” You mumbled, but it was loud enough for Steve to hear.

“Can I come in?”

You nodded even though he couldn’t see you. “Yes. But, please don’t turn on the light.”

“Okay.”

You heard the door open then close and then the sound of the shower curtain being pushed to the side caught your attention and you looked up at Steve.

“What happened?” He asked. Your eyes had long adjusted to the darkness so you could make out his face fairly well and you could see the concerned look on it.

“I don’t wanna lie and say nothing, but I also don’t really wanna talk about it right now.”

“That’s okay,” He said with a small nod. “Can I sit?”

You didn’t verbally answer and instead simply pulled your knees up to make room in the tub for him. He got in, pulling his knees up as well, and for a few moments, it was quiet. You could faintly hear the sound of music coming from the living room, but you couldn’t fully make out whatever vinyl Eddie decided to play on the record player.

“Someone gave us a plant,” Steve told you, breaking the silence. “Housewarming gift.”

“Oh, no,” You responded with a small sigh. You and Steve were probably the least “green thumb” people ever. “It’s gonna be dead in a week.”

“She said it’s a low-maintenance one so we’ll see how true that is,” He said as he shrugged. “Now that I’m thinking about it, though, is it weird that we can easily take care of a hamster, but a plant will barely last a week with us?”

You shook your head. “Harold provides us constant love and affection— even when he’s running on his squeaky wheel at three in the morning, it’s somehow still adorable— a plant does not do that. So, which one are we gonna remember to care for?”

“Very, very true.”

“At least one person gave us a gift, though,” You said. “Now that I’m remembering that we called this a housewarming party, I’m actually kinda upset that we didn’t get any more presents. Where’s our fancy plates and cookware, or even a nice throw blanket?”

You were only slightly joking with your statement, you would’ve actually loved getting a blanket.

Steve laughed a bit. “If that’s what you wanted then we should’ve invited our moms and their friends.”

“Fuck, we really should’ve done that when we moved in. Such a missed opportunity.”

“I fully think that if we did do that our apartment would look eerily similar to Miss Johnson’s,” Steve said and you could imagine it completely. Frilly white curtains in the living room instead of the black ones that were currently up that blocked out the sun perfectly, and flowery pillows on the gray couch instead of the sage green ones that you found on sale a few weeks ago.

You inwardly shuddered at the thought. “Okay, yes, that’s probably true, but at least we would be using nice plates and not the Mickey Mouse ones we got from that thrift shop.”

Steve jokingly gasped, offended. “I love those Mickey plates, actually.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at that. Just for a moment, it was nice to completely forget about what happened not even an hour ago and what led you to essentially hide away in your bathroom in the first place.

Things got quiet again and it was the kind of silence that you liked; the kind that made you feel completely comfortable with spending the rest of the night avoiding everything and staying right there in your tub with Steve, and you knew that he would’ve been okay with that too. Even though your bodies would’ve probably started aching after just thirty minutes of being in this position, and he was taller so it would be worse for him, he wouldn’t have complained.

You focused on the muffled sound of the music playing in the living room. This time you managed to make out the familiar beat of the song; Somebody to Love by Queen. You let out a sigh because that song playing right then somehow felt way too on the nose.

Steve reached over and lightly poked your knee. “You okay?”

You were so close to pushing the question away again, avoiding the topic and bringing up something else completely— maybe saying that you actually loved those damn Mickey Mouse plates too— but you actually didn’t feel like brushing the topic away anymore.

“He doesn’t like me,” You abruptly said, voice quiet. “I was tired of trying to read between lines and shit, so I just asked him, and he said no.”

You noticed the sad look cross Steve’s face, which only made a fresh wave of embarrassment and sadness wash over you, but you kept going before he could say anything just yet. “And then to make that whole moment even more embarrassing for me, after he said no he pointed at this girl— I don’t know her name, I think Robin invited her— and asked if I knew if she was single or not.”

Steve’s response of “What the fuck,” was immediate and it was really nice hearing how angry he was on your behalf and it made you smile a bit.

“This past hour has been extremely humbling for me. And I know I said I’d find someone to make out with if things didn’t work out with Charlie, but I’m not even in the mood to do that,” You told him as you leaned back against the cool tub and closed your eyes. “And you wanna know what the worst part of all of this is?”

“What?” “I’m not even drunk right now, so I’ll sadly remember all of this tomorrow.”

You weren’t entirely sure what you expected Steve to say in response to that, but you fully did not expect him to laugh. You opened your eyes and lightly kicked his leg. “Wow, thank you for laughing at my pain.”

“I’m sorry. I am a little drunk right now, so you saying that you’re not is kind of funny because it feels like the roles are reversed,” He said and you slightly hated how right he was. At any party you went to, he was usually the sober-ish one helping you out whenever you drank too much. “Robin and I were playing the Uno drinking game with some people.”

“What? I can’t believe I missed that.”

“We can go play it now. You’d honestly probably win for once since you’re the only one of us who isn’t drunk.”

“Ha ha,” You said with a roll of your eyes as you reached forward so that you could playfully hit him. “I know I’m the worst at that game, but it doesn’t make it any less fun.”

“Okay, come on, let’s go play,” Steve said before standing up, and then reaching his hands out toward you so that he could help you up.

He was trying to cheer you up, you could clearly see that, and you almost took him up on his suggestion. But, the thought of leaving your bathroom or even the comfort of the tub didn’t sit well with you. Mainly since you were unsure if Charlie was still out there and you didn’t want to see him or what he was doing because you knew you’d only feel embarrassed all over again. Yes, it was your apartment and you could’ve easily kicked him out if he was still there, but it felt so much easier to simply stay right where you were.

You looked up at Steve and shook your head. “I don’t really wanna play, actually.”

Steve sat back down with you. “Okay, I haven’t seen you this upset over a guy in a long time. What is it about Charlie? Why is he so special?”

It only took a second for an answer to come to your mind because it was something that you had actually been thinking about a lot lately but had yet to verbalize it.

“I don’t– I don’t even think it’s really about him specifically. It’s just, I’m so tired of having crushes— of liking a guy and it going absolutely nowhere… I want something real. It’s been what feels like forever, and the last time was with that guy whose name we will never say in this house. And we both know how that horrific relationship ended.” It was rare that you ever talked about that relationship anymore, so hearing you mention it right then— even in just a minor way— actually surprised Steve, it even surprised you a little bit. That relationship was something that went on from the end of your Sophomore year of high school to the middle of Junior year; close to a year of your life that you really wished you could get back because you put up with a lot of shit that you now knew you shouldn’t have.

“I want something good for once, and I thought that maybe I could have that with Charlie. I thought maybe he wasn’t an asshole. But, now I’m back at fucking square one, and it’s just so…” You trailed off with a sigh, not bothering to finish your statement.

“It’ll happen. You’ll find someone. Someone actually good,” Steve told you, his voice was soft and you could hear the sincerity behind his words.

You let out a sigh and leaned your head back against the wall. “Sometimes I hate talking about relationship stuff with you.”

“What? Why?” Steve asked. He sounded genuinely confused and for a second you felt bad because there wasn’t supposed to be anything you didn’t like talking about with him— you were best friends.

“Because you can get a date with any girl ever, and you could probably easily be in a committed, serious thing if you wanted to. Meanwhile, I’m getting rejected left and right or falling for complete idiots,” You answered, letting the words fall out and not really thinking about them too much because they just felt way too true. However, once they fully registered in your head, you could feel yourself inwardly cringing. “Ew. Oh, God, I sound pathetic. Please forget I said anything.”

“It’s not true,” Steve told you with an immediate shake of his head. You almost said “Which part?” but he continued before you could ask that question. “I go on dates, yeah. But, none of them are close to, or are even leading to, something real. Even if I wanted it to, the girls I date don’t want something real with me.”

You considered his words for a second. “Well, in that case, they’re idiots.”

“Charlie’s an idiot too.”

“Cheers to that,” You responded. “God, I wish I was drunk right now.”

Steve laughed at your words and then opened his mouth to say something. For some reason, you had a feeling that he was going to try and coax you out of the bathroom again, and you were still unsure if you wanted to get up just yet, so you decided to say something before he could. “Do you ever want something serious?”

He was quiet for a second, as if really thinking about your question. “I don’t know… It changes a lot.” You nodded at that before he continued. “Most of the time I think I do, though.”

“Well, with what you just said about the girls you date and with what happened to me tonight, I think you and I are just gonna be alone together forever.”

He let out a small laugh. “I think so too.”

You smiled at him. “And I know that should sound at least a little bit sad, but right now, it honestly doesn’t.”

He smiled back at you. “Yeah, that actually sounds okay.”

Neither of you got the chance to say anything else because the sound of the door opening caught both of your attention.

“Okay, two things,” You both recognized Robin’s voice before she pulled back the curtain to look down at you two. “One, I really need to pee so I need you both to get out of here, please. And two, Eddie pulled Harold out of his cage and is trying to teach him to do tricks.”

You groaned as you started standing up. “Oh, God. Not again.”

Steve followed suit, standing up as well, as he rolled his eyes. “Why is that always his go-to thing to do when he’s high?”

Robin laughed, you easily noticed how tipsy she was. “And what makes it even funnier is that he does this all the time but Harold has not actually learned any “trick” yet.”

“The day that Eddie somehow teaches him how to “roll over,” I will pass away in shock,” You said as you adjusted your dress, fixing how much it had ridden up while you were sitting in the tub.

You and Steve stepped out of your bathroom to let Robin use it. But, you hesitated to open your bedroom door and let you two step back into the party happening in the rest of the apartment.

Steve easily noticed your hesitation and his hand found yours, giving it a light reassuring squeeze. “You handle Eddie, and if Charlie is still here, I’ll tell him to leave, okay?”

You inwardly sighed in relief hearing him say that because, of course, he knew the exact thing you had been worried about.

“Thanks.” There was so much more said in the simple one-word— thank you for reading my mind, thank you for always being able to do so, thank you for being the best goddamn person in my life.

Steve nodded and gave your hand another squeeze, hearing all of those underlying words and then some. “I have been waiting all night to do this, actually, so thank you. And we’re playing the Uno drinking game after.”

You smiled at that and gave him a quick nod. “Okay.”

You then opened your door and stepped out, giving Steve’s hand a squeeze of your own before pulling away as you started making your way toward Eddie, who was sitting on the couch with Harold in his lap. You pretended as if you were completely unaffected when you briefly noticed Charlie standing in your kitchen and talking to the same girl he had pointed out to you earlier.

“Edward Munson put Harold back in his cage right now.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

let me know ur thoughts<333

(also requests are open for stuff you wanna see in the universe/series!🫶🏾)

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x fem!reader #stranger things fluff #steve harrington #steve harrington fanfiction #stranger things fic #stranger things imagine

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izanazqueen · 10 months

Text

bonten manjiro x fem reader

warnings: smut. cursing. physical stuff. finishing inside. fluff. angst. timeskip - bonten mikey.

an: after finally forever i am finished w the bonten mikey fic that was request from way back and now it is here in existence - hope you enjoy / are pleased with it love! 💙

bonten mikey never took it easy on your body. especially after not seeing you. tonight was possibly the worst of all. after accidentally and absent-minded you forgot to turn on your ringtone when he tried calling you suddenly after one of his bonten discussions to check in on you. bad mistake. he had busted through your front entrance with beyond intense rage when you flew out the shower -quickly covering yourself with a white linen fast when you darted through the door to see him standing in front of you in what almost resembled madman. ' manjiro- w ..wha - ' he cut you off instantly with his sweaty rough palm against your trembling face in fear unknowing of what would happen. 'what.. the fck !.. - is wrong with you?! ' he screamed as he slammed his free hand balled furiously against the wall adjacent to your body making you boil in panic. 'manjiro. please. calm down, it is ok .. - ' speaking quitely to him you tried to attempt to cradle his shaking cheeks in your hands. you knew what this was. he was scared. manjiro acted usually so calm and composed but there were few moments when you witnessed his complete and total breakdowns - his times where he just let out everything and let the anxiety win strongly against his full will. you knew damn well he was in a panic over you and couldn't be angry for his actions in that moment even if would mean having to plaster the wall the next morning. 'babe- its alright. i'm here.. i did not mean - to not to answer your calls ..i just was in the shower- nn ! -' before you knew it he was kissing your lips with love filled hypnotic passion. you were here. nothing could go wrong - not with him around. he hated leaving you sometimes even for multiple days on end when he'd have to leave the country for bonten work and other such things and the thought alone sickened his stomach. sure - he always had sanzu always posted outside your apt whenever he was out if town, much to his pink haired partners dismay- there was never a moment that he wasn't thinking about what could be going wrong whenever he stepped foot away from your presence and -at least in this moment .. right now there was not a damn thing that could take him away - from being with you -

manjiro fucking your body like like he's possessed. i mean - he is insane. he forced your hands back pinning them above your head obviously avoiding your whines and whimpers for him and pushing himself in your wet cunt before any words could form in your mind he went feral when heard you moaning from him ' unh .. babee-! 'making his way much further inside you than he should be doing making you cry out his name loudly. ' fck- me manjiro - ah! .' nothing would hold this man from bringing the devil out when he was forcing his cock over and over again until the warmth of that place he needed took over and stole him from reality. it was an abyss one you only could deliver him into - manjiro wanted it all. making you only his was the best decision he could have had ever made in his life. grabbing onto your waist he placed his mouth over your neck biting down almost as if he was in need of your sweet nectare pushing himself further into his abyss making you cum so dmn fast you swore it was the first time. ' - babe! - ah ! ' swelling around him your vagina drenched his belly and was dripping all down your own legs from whatever magic he was working your pussy into and you pleaded with him so hard not to stop - 'babyy ..! ah! .. manjiro! - ' mikey cut you off with his tender lips in a sharp embrace to your moaning mouth. 'nnngh .. unh-nghh ..' you heard him groan wildly as he began fucking you harder and harder sighing into you with his sexy voice - all the way pressed in your hair from how close he was about to orgasm and the motions rocking the bed of how he was pleasuring himself with you with such force and strength from his biceps and toned build so chaoticly when you felt yourself starting to cum all over again before the feeling of the wood snapping beneath you giving out completely with the mattress folded in half against the floor as he went on relentlessly aggressively pounding his hard cock in you in a murderous fixation, thrashing your throbbing cumming core with such fine work you did not give no cares .. at all. 'manjiro- .. ah!- fck .. yess! - ' your voice sounded so beautiful and pleasing to him and he could not stand to pull himself out when in some dream like state he gave out to your serene voice against him like a melody to his body. the sweat from your panting chest against his skin mixing into his felt like a drug and he grabbed your chin into a hungry lip lock- manjiro needed you. every last part of you. your body. your lips. your voice. your smile. your comfort. your embrace. you were his life - the perfect person for him that he could have imagined in a partner and to his surpise you offered it happily he had thought to a piece of shit like him - without question. he had to do better for you. for your future. and maybe even his own.

please do not copy / repost my work

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savorypink · 5 days

Text

buckle bunny

you've taken a liking to someone next door.

contains smut. + cowboy!alex.

It’s not wrong, right?

It’s just looking—observing. You aren’t hurting anyone. Well, the potential relationship with your neighbour could damage a few things. Ugh, that word. Potential. It makes your stomach swirl with nausea; potential.

You want something more permanent than ‘potential’. Right now, it seems farfetched, almost out of your grasp. But until permanence occurs, you can at least enjoy the view.

You draw back the curtains to your window, the mobile home adjacent to yours now in vision.

He’s home today.

The plastic encasing your popsicle bursts opens with a soft ‘pop’, though the emptiness of your trailer makes it seem louder than usual. The bitter Red 40 hits your tongue before the tart cherry flavour washes it away. It reminds you of something. You recall the fleeting feeling of your heart drumming against your chest the first time you did this—your bitter Red 40.

Then relief covers you in warmth like a blanket, but your stomach still churns, partly in butterflies, the other…disgust? It isn’t your fault. Alex is just that excellent of a specimen. Your microscope will forever fix on him.

It’s like watching a sculpture in motion. But your time in the museum has well passed. Alex is dripping sweat from the damp hair shielding his face to his lean, sun-kissed arms. He isn’t too bulky but shows no signs of fragility, either. Rugged. Masculine. Sharp edges you don’t mind cutting yourself on. Replace the dumbbell in his hand with your neck, and it could leave an attractive bruise. Your body and brain melt at the thought while your thighs come together pathetically. He could crush you like a bug.

Your lips fall agape as you watch him curl the dumbbell for another repetition. As he curls the dumbbell, your grip on the popsicle grows tighter, mirroring the contracting muscles in his arms. Your peep show is beginning to feel like a workout, with the underarms of your shirt dampening and soreness in your knees from digging them harshly into the mattress.

Your chest burns a fiery red hot as if he’s placed a boot there. Your feeble wheezing congests your ears while the savoury sound of your bones snapping sends a jolt of heat through your core. He could crush you like a bug. He could crush you like a bug.

A pink tongue laps away at the sweat forming across his upper lip. Bumps and edges your body wants to get familiar with. You’d look good on him, and you don’t doubt that, but he’d look delectable between your folds. Your ache could use easing, and he could be your painkiller.

The weight gradually comes up his chest for what you presume is his final set of curls. The strain on his sweaty face softens once the dumbbell is at his side again. With what you think is a hearty grunt, he sets the weight at his feet. His large, gloved hands sit at his hips as he triumphs over the weight. You catch him trying to fight the smirk threatening to paint his features, but eventually, he caves. Shit-eating. Sexy. Belittling.

He’s such a man.

His chocolate eyes study the ceiling, dizzy with power. When his eyes tear away from above, they meet the window beside him.

The window you’re across from.

Your heart falls from where it once was and into your churning guts. This is real, is it? The hot guy from next door watching you is merely a vision trick. Correct? Closing your curtains makes you as cowardly as it does guilty; you remain statue-esque under his gaze regardless. The heat rushing to your neck and face tells you it’s terrible, but something else tells you to embrace it.

Alex drinks in your stunned state, amused. It’s almost a repeat of the same grin from when his workout finished. Smug. Proud that he’s gained an audience of you. Only you. He reaches for the string of his blinds before swiftly closing them, your beloved show ending on a cliffhanger.

The reality of what happened has yet to smack you in the face. Your mattress hasn’t swallowed you yet. Your underwear is still uncomfortably wet. The trailer is empty; no camera crew tells you you’ve been Punk’d. The quiet is deafening, but a buzz in your pocket quickly follows before allowing you to wallow in your silent shame.

It’s from your neighbour.

Change your shirt.

You look down at the splotches of red and blue staining your work polo. A warm, sticky puddle of popsicle soaks your skirt’s denim, dying your thighs and fingertips. Groaning, you leave the bed and gather nearby tissues to blot away the pesky Red 40 and Blue 1 splattering your skirt. Before you can angrily toss the empty popsicle in the garbage, you read the text on the stick’s end.

How do you warm up a frozen cowboy?

Yee-thaw!

—

“You still tryin’ to fuck that old dude next door?”

Your head comes up from your magazine to look at your friend. “He’s not old.”

She waits for your protest but smiles when you respond with silence. “Then that means yes.”

The trailer park folk are friendly; it’s something that comes with living in the South. You’ve shaken hands and exchanged hellos, but your only real friend sits beside you. Two trailers away and a bit gossipy, though you felt comfortable updating her on your staring rituals. She ensured your secret was safe with her; surprisingly, she’s incredibly supportive of your efforts. Or lack thereof.

“You two would make excellent babies.”

The summer sun isn’t responsible for the heat rushing to your face. You roll up the magazine and smack her thighs, but her infectious giggling alleviates your embarrassment.

“I don’t just want to fuck him,” the lawn chair squeaks as your back sinks further into the plastic. “Do you think he likes to cuddle? We can cuddle.”

“Naked, probably.” She sighs, about to leave her chair. “Want me to find out for you?”

You hold her wrist in a vice grip. “Don’t.”

She snatches her wrist from you, returning to your side. “You’re strong. You’ve been flicking the bean much more since Al’s been here, huh?”

You shield the magazine over your flushing face. Your friend isn’t wrong. “Leave. Please.”

“You have his number. Send him some nudes or something.” You allow her to get up this time, peeking at her through the glossy pages. “It’ll be more fun than watching him smoke.”

Her flip-flops clap along the pavement as she leaves. Groaning, you toss the magazine at your feet. You hate it when she’s right.

Nudes are a bit extreme, but you’ve made your interest clear. It’s not that Alex isn’t entirely interested, either. If you remember correctly, he quite literally smiled when he caught you. In some roundabout way, Alex opened Pandora’s Box between you two and left the rest in your hands. Your phone can be used to communicate. Did you know this? Alex practically gave you an opening. Enter the door.

Alex is having a cigarette. Double-denim clad. Large silver belt buckle around his hips. His worn hat sits beside him on the stairs leading to his trailer. He’s returned from the ranch. You recognise the exhaustion from your prior viewings. In sunlight, his dark circles are prominent, and so are the tan lines along the collar of his shirt.

A single bead of sweat trickles down his neck, glimmering in the sun before disappearing into the valley of his chest. Your toes curl into your flip-flops as your core tightens around your slick walls.

Stop staring. Stop staring. Stop staring.

Does he even know you’re alive over there?

You admire and envy his blase. He could sit in front of you and not say anything, let alone give you a glance. Instead, he taps away at the keyboard on his phone, one letter at a time. Looking absolutely adorable in the process. It definitely shows his age, but your heart flips and bends all the same.

His nonchalance might be a blessing in disguise. He can’t see the imaginary hearts floating above your head.

What does his search history look like? Who is he texting? Does he prefer Candy Crush or Bejeweled?

Your dumb questions halt once you hear his door shut. The loneliness isn’t as deafening as the night prior. You’ve gotten used to it. In fact, you’d call it a loop of the day before, the way your phone buzzes again.

The next show is tonight at 12. Dress to impress.

You’re alive. And Alex is aware.

Confirmed. See you then.

—

11:59.

Time doesn’t move the way you want it. 60 seconds shouldn’t feel like forever, but tonight, it does. You’re in your usual spot by the window, waiting for something to happen. But rather than silence, it’s your heart hammering your eardrums. Instead of just sitting there, your fingers twiddle with the lace hem of your nightgown. A lump sits in your throat, sour and hot, and you find it hard to swallow with each tick of the clock.

Where is he?

Could you blame him if he bailed? Not entirely. This is weird; strangers don’t wait by the window for one another. They don’t invite the other to watch them either—you don’t know him. Close the curtains. You can have a good cry about it later.

12:00.

Alex opens the blinds.

The towel wrapped around his hips is oddly thick. You want to kick yourself for letting your eyes land there first. He must’ve noticed. Alex is going for the towel. You ball up your nightgown and wiggle in your seat; your heart is the only echo in your ears.

Thwip!

There’s another towel underneath.

The air feels less thick as you laugh, the bricks on your shoulders tumbling to the ground. His lightheartedness is endearing; it makes your palms less sweaty. It’s a quality lacking in the boys your age: pure charm. You wonder what else he can do to fuzzy your chest. Make you laugh. Make you feel wanted. The skin on your arms raises at the thought. Butterflies flap wildly around in your belly. He could be yours.

Your phone lights up.

Show me something.

You’re unsure of what he means for a moment, but your body understands it clearly. You slip the nightgown straps down your arms, wincing as the cold air hits your bare skin. The blood rushes precisely where Alex wants it, frigid air and arousal stiffening your nipples. Your glazed eyes notice an inviting and prominent dent in the towel.

Another text.

Beautiful.

Wetness damps the pillow underneath you, and shamelessly, you rut against it. Your fingers swirl your nipples in circles, closing in on them with a hard pinch as Alex finally removes the towel. The strong arms you watched him work hard for get their chance to shine. He spits into his hand and begins pumping, almost in tune with your twist on your breasts. His fists, hefty, veiny, and what you’d picture as calloused, nearly eclipse his cock.

Already leaking out of the fat head, looking heavy in his hands, you don’t doubt he can fill you to the brim. You wouldn’t have it any other way. Your bodies demand to collide; the hunger between you two is almost never-ending.

You get a firm grip on the pillow and start grinding. A breeze wicks away the sweat forming on your brow, and you grind harder, the fabric painfully rubbing at your unnerving ache. Alex has an idea of what you’re doing and what you’re doing it with, and he knows it should be him instead.

Captivated with your breasts dancing and your slack jaw, he can’t tell if his new speed is out of anger or lust. You’ll be so good to him. Good for him. You’re worth the trouble.

A heat rises in your belly as your hips follow his hand’s maddening pace. The friction between your core and the pillow hurt all so good. Your folds will probably be a puffy, burning mess afterwards, but Alex makes it worthwhile. His body shines with sweat, defining his v-line and biceps, glowing him in the dark. He mouths what you think is your name but finishes with an audible “Oh.”

White stripes spurt out of his cock and onto his knuckles and bedsheets, but his movements continue as he waits for your arrival. You mewl and rock against the pillow until your legs tire. You hold your tongue when the heat in your stomach rushes through you, but you’ve made him aware of what you need.

The ceiling looks as if it’s made of stars with your head thrown back as you ride out your bliss, though you feel your movements becoming desperate again. When you dip your head back, Alex closes the blinds, leaving you alone again. The wet spot in the pillow grows cold quickly, and you prepare for silence again.

Until your phone goes off.

You wish it was your hand, don’t you?

You type out your message, hitting send with your eyes shut.

You wish you were the pillow, don’t you?

—

Ask him for a cup of sugar.

You’ve had dumber ideas.

It seems innocent enough. It’s more tasteful than just showing up and asking Alex: “What are we?” You even went out of your way to buy ingredients for a cookie recipe, knowing that a bag of sugar exists in your cupboard. Typically, you would hate lying, but this one could have an enormous payoff. Maybe you’ll finally figure out if he likes to cuddle. Your teeth ache at the sweetness of it all.

His door seems more menacing up close. It’s easier for you to turn heel, return to your house and act like the past few days never happened. You’d be better off that way. But the actions from your home are what lead you here. You’ll have to face that silence if you go back. Your skin will ache from unfulfillment, touch-starved and bone dry. Desires will continue to pound in your ears, and you’ll have no one to share them with. It’ll be you like it’s always been. You’re bored of it.

You knock firmly on the door, your heart halting as his footsteps approach.

The door swings open to reveal Alex draped in worn pyjamas and an equally worn shirt. Warmth wells in his eyes at your form. He smiles. “Hi.”

“It’s you.” Your voice is barely a whisper.

“In the flesh.”

“Can I…do you have sugar? I need a cup.”

He moves out of the way of the door, the scent of air conditioning pungent. “Come. Can’t have you waiting out here.”

You could pinch yourself a million times, but this will still be your reality. This isn’t a dream. You’re here. He gestures for you to sit at the kitchen table, and you sit statue-esque with your hands in your lap. Nervousness and curiosity keep your eyes bouncing from one thing to another.

The TV is playing some western on low volume. Kung-fu movies on VHS sit in a quiet corner. Playboys and painkillers sit on the end table next to the yellow couch, guitar picks scattered in the mix. There are no family photos; he wears no ring. There isn’t a life you could ruin. You can breathe a little easier. The silence still has you wheezing, though.

“Your spice cabinet is pretty full for a white guy.”

Alex closes the cupboard, turning to you with furrowed brows. “Thank you?”

All the blood in your body goes to your face. “Uh-huh.”

It might be best if you didn’t say anything.

He sets the sugar in front of you and then pulls out the chair across from you. “What other activities do you like besides peeping?”

It feels like more of an interrogation than an ice-breaker. You twiddle your thumbs. “Baking. Daydreaming. Long walks on the beach.” You force the last part, needing to be lighthearted; your arms can’t hold something this heavy.

“You like cowboys?”

You’re not picky, but you like this cowpoke specifically. “They’re fine, I guess.”

He clutches at his shirt dramatically, letting his head fall back. Acting as if you’ve shot him at point-blank range. He’d be as good as an actor as a lover.

“Woman, you wound me.”

You giggle, and he yearns to hear more of your laughter. “There’s a ranch not too far out from here.” Alex begins. “It’s where I work. Beautiful. All the acres you could want. Family’sThe family’s filthy rich, too. I can sneak you in if you want. Teach you how to ride—a horse.”

The invitation is enticing and as charming as he is. It’s got those butterflies flapping about in your stomach. Without a thought, you slide out of your flip-flops and let your skin graze his ankle. Gooseflesh forms immediately at your contact.

“What else can you teach me?”

When your toe hits his calf, he takes your ankle. “We can get a head start on riding. You pick the place.”

His hands feel the way you pictured them. Calloused and rough—the hands of a working man. You look around the trailer. The couch is inviting. The kitchen counter won’t work. You’ve seen his bedroom, and your presence makes sense, but a question slithers into your head when your eyes meet again. What’s wrong with right here?

Alex releases your leg, allowing you to stand before him - albeit a nervous wreck. He embraces you regardless, the same calloused hands seemingly lightweight around your hips, grazing the bone with his thumbs. His nose pokes at your own, and Alex nudges it cutely, wanting your approval for a kiss. He doesn’t need to ask, but you tilt your head, and you two collide.

Finally.

It’s better than what you pictured. The fizz of Coke on his skilled tongue, his beard etching burns into your skin. Your failure to catch up with your tongue makes him clutch you tighter, the seams of your sundress nearly coming apart in his grasp. He bucks into your clothed core, and you mewl, returning the gesture with movements of your own.

A hand finds your breasts and squeezes possessively, another pathetic moan leaving your mouth. He drinks your sounds like water, rewarding you with noises from his gut. You steady yourself by placing your hands on his shoulder, but to your dismay, it breaks the kiss. Alex pulls back with a grimace, hissing through his teeth painfully. Your heart drops into your gut immediately.

“What…happened?” Concern shrills your voice.” Did I do something?”

He kisses you in assurance that he’s fine, albeit timidly. It has you second-guessing if he’s truly at his best. “I had a fall on the ranch. It’s unimportant.”

You begin tracing shapes along his shirt. “It’s important to me,” your lips curl into a pout, and you can feel his legs tremble. “I don’t wanna hurt you, Alex.”

His hand palms the lacy material of your panties, already sticky and damp to the touch. “You couldn’t hurt me even. Not even if I begged for it.”

You grind against the ridges and lines of his hand, but softly enough to reduce any damage you could do to his arm. His palm is hot under your core, and the lace of your underwear begins to burn at your ache. Your wetness spills out of his fingers in excess, adding to the stains you already stamped on his pants with your needy grinding. You claw at the waistband of his pyjamas, his bulge more prominent than before.

“Can I…? Please?” Your fingertips hook the elastic.

Alex withdraws his hand, pulling your panties to the side. “Take what’s yours.”

You slide him out of his pyjamas and boxers hurriedly. Your core tightens around itself as the tip already leaks precum. With a teasing finger, you smear the substance along his slit, another hiss leaves his lips, but it’s not out of pain. Alex retaliates by sliding two fingers into your leaking core, grinning when your finger spasms.

“Tight.” His fingers scruff the spongey part of your bits. You moan. “You’re gonna be so good for me. I know it.”

The wet squelching sound at the expense of your core is louder than your heart in your ears. Alex’s fingers curve and swirl, pumping mercilessly in and out of you. The moment heat pools in your lower belly is when his fingers withdraw from you. You whine.

“Don’t whine.” Alex lazily drags his tip along your folds before slipping inside you. “I got ‘cha.”

The bulbous tip is enough burning on its own, effective in stretching you out and making your toes curl painfully inward. With Alex fully seated inside you, your core is scorching, the burn is too harsh, and it is too delightful to ignore. Instead of his shoulders, your hands grip the neckline of his shirt, looking up at him with watery lenses.

“Like I said, I got you.” Alex guides up his cock, stilling at the base, then resuming, bringing you all the way to the tip. Your hot slick runs down each thick, lengthy inch of his cock, your wall’s usual grip uncomfortably wet and slippery. Alex has your hips coming down at a moderate pace, and you’re sure his shoulder is to blame. You try not to apply too much weight but let your head rest there, pressing kisses.

He wants more of you, and it’ll hurt him to do it, but he brings you down faster on his cock. His shoulder screams in agony, groaning in lust and in pain. He needs you to talk him through it. You’ll make it more bearable.

“No boyfriend, right?” He pants in your ear. “Besides your pillow, I mean.”

If he weren’t already in pain, you’d hit him. “Leave him out of this. He’s just a friend. Promise. Mmm, so good, Al. Close.”

You feel him twitch inside you. “Can’t wait to meet ’im.”

Another hotness spills from you again, but it’s stickier than you’d produce. Alex spills into your walls with a primal grunt. Everything but his hands go limp as he paints your core a hot, gluey white, his bouncing off your body slowing down.

Unlike that time in your room, his name comes out of your mouth with confidence as you succumb to the burning heat in your belly, clutching him tightly as your vision turns to pink haze. Both of your pants bounce off the walls of the trailer, the scent of sex breezing away from the air conditioning.

Alex shifts the chair, giving you room to stand. Your footing is shaky on the way up, your knees nearly buckling as you rise from his lap. He brings your underwear back to its original position, plugging the release and threatening to slip out of you. He gives your core an affirming smack, smoothing out the wrinkles in your dress.

You twiddle your thumbs and watch as he tucks himself back into his pants, the silence you know all too well blanketing the room.

“...So?”

“So.” Alex drums his fingers against the table.

You give two clammy thumbs up. “We’re good?”

“More than good.”

You take the cup of sugar, grinning. “Cool. Um, do you like cookies? I’ll bring you some when they’re done.”

He takes your hand and grazes your knuckles, kissing them tenderly. “You don’t need cookies to come see me. Visit anytime. You know where I stay.”

You'll be back. Cookies or not.

Guaranteed.

#mickey is typing…#alex turner fanfic #alex turner smut #alex turner x reader #alex turner x you #yeehaw!alex

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sanjisjuul · 5 months

Text

Therapist Law!

Summary: Law is a kinky therapist

Cw: fem reader, cursing, spanking, fingering

Note: if you've seen this before it's because its from my old account! i'm working on recovering all my fics and thanks to @pileofmush this one has been located in its entirety!

Word count: 3.2k

Mdni 18+

the ticking of the clock on the sad beige walls reverberates through your eardrums as you bounce your leg up and down in anticipation. a metallic taste tingles your taste buds as you draw blood from how hard you're chewing on your lip.

therapy. something you've wanted to do, but simultaneously put off for years. a recent break up that you initiated caused you to finally seek a doctor. your past lover, while a good person, didn't provide the affection you so much craved. you felt ignored, a bother almost, everything you put in was almost consumed rather than given back. not to mention sexually you were more than less satisfied, your partner always getting their needs met and not bothering to give yours any attention.

now you're sat in an uncomfortable leather chair, the squeaking making you cringe internally as you shift around. you try to search the walls for any distraction to calm your nerves, but the barren office offers absolutely nothing.

"y/n?" the soft voice of the receptionist breaks you from your inner thoughts. you look up at her and hum in question as she smiles softly at you. "dr. trafalgar is ready to see you, he's in room 5 whenever you're ready."

you stand slowly, the crack of your joints causing a jolt of pain to run through your body. you pull the sleeves of your sweater over your hands before heading down the hall in search of the room. blank white doors stare back at you as you trudge down the hall. each door with a large black number plastered on it. you come to a halt when seeing the door with a number five. you reach your hand to knock, but the creak of the door causes you to jump in place.

"come in," a deep man's voice speaks, quietly, but enough for the entire hallway to echo around you. without looking up you push past the door before closing it softly behind you. you turn around slowly, getting a glimpse of the room. Dr. Trafalgar's back is turned to you, he sits at a dark wooden desk adjacent to the door typing something rapidly on his computer. floating shelves litter the walls, filled with books, fidget toys, and what seemed to be action figures. a few posters hang from old movies and comic books which contrasts the sterility of the rest of the building, giving you a sense of comfort. there's a black leather chair sitting in the corner which rests next to a large monstera plant to which you take a seat.

"you must be miss y/n." the doctor speaks his large back still turned to you. you fidget with sleeves, "yes," you smile although he still cannot see you. "alright then," he presses enter on his keyboard before swiveling around in his chair to face you. you almost choke on air upon his front side coming into view. piercing grey eyes bore into yours, a raven mop of hair sits atop his head styled a bit messily. his cheekbones and jawline defined with pretty pink lips and a black goatee resting on his chin. your eyes shamelessly trail down his body as yours heats up. he's dressed business casual, black slacks, black loafers, and long sleeved black button down. he wears two gold hoops on each ear, but what you least expected are the two large tattoos covering each hand, surprising to say the least, but you certainly aren't complaining.

"so tell me," he breaks your trance, spreading his long legs to rest his elbows on each thigh, holding his face in his knuckles as he leans forward, eyes never leaving yours, "what brings you in?" he licks his lips, almost as if he's reading your mind. you could have sworn you saw a ghost of a smirk before you start speaking. "well um basically i just want to better myself. i just left a long relationship and want to understand why i stayed so long, why i put myself through so much mental anguish."

dr. trafalgar nods his head, eyebrows furrowed as he actively listens to what you have to say, "well let's start with this. tell me about your last relationship. what occurred, and how it ended." he reaches for a notepad, pen and reading glasses on his desk, before sliding the glasses on and reassuming his previous position.

you stumble a bit before starting your sentence, the glasses on his handsome face distracting you as you try to recall your memories. "um.. well yeah, i basically felt ignored, almost an afterthought," you start. you go on a long rant recalling all of your frustrating memories, the times you felt like a bother, the constant effort you put in to get none in return, and the way this affected you which ultimately led you to leave.

dr. trafalgar takes notes as you go, looking up every so often to give you a look of understanding, not one of pity which you've received far too many times as of late. you catch your breath as you finish, feeling a sense of relief as you finish your recollection.

"well, if i'm going to be honest, he sounds like a complete idiot." dr. trafalgar starts, before leaning back in his chair. "i'm glad you were able to leave without many complications. it takes a lot of courage to leave something long term as you just have."

you smile at his statement before continuing, "to me it should have ended long ago, being with him was more of a past time, i was just scared of being lonely. which in hindsight was a bit stupid because i have friends who have been there for me more than he ever was."

your doctor smiles at you, "that isn't stupid miss y/n. many people fear being alone, it's completely normal. i am very glad to hear you have friends that support you"

"i don't know,' you start. "it just feels like my life was on halt for such a long period of time. if anything i'm glad to be single now so i can actually explore other options."

he cocks an eyebrow, "options?"

you feel the blood rush to your cheeks upon answering, "options... as in other sexual partners, romantic or not." you close your eyes momentarily as you feel embarrassment creep it's way through your body.

"were you not satisfied sexually?" he sets his notepad on the desk besides him, and removes his glasses, running a large hand through his raven locks. you try not to linger your stare on his long fingers, each digit tattooed, making you feel... things.

"well to be completely honest no." you advert your gaze from your sexy ass therapist and chew on your lip before continuing. "it's just going back to effort. he didn't make effort for me emotionally, physically, nor sexually. i always made sure that he was taken care of.. if you know what i mean."

dr. trafalgar pauses for a moment, "well if you're comfortable we can go through that aspect of the relationship as well. just remember, this is all on your terms miss y/n." he locks eyes with yours once again, his face stern as he speaks.

your face heats up as you look down. you planned on talking about this with your doctor, but didn't expect him to be so... attractive. you feel his gaze on your face before you sigh. you lift your head to meet dr. trafalgars gaze, to which he stares intently back at you.

his silence makes you continue, "in two years how do you not make somebody cum?" you question frustratedly. "he didn't even try, he even blamed me at one point, can you fucking believe that?" you sigh in anger. "i used to excuse myself into another room to take care of myself," you laugh in disbelief, "it was just so frustrating." you finish, if you were in a cartoon steam would be seeping out from your ears.

"may i ask?" dr. trafalgar moves his chair a few inches closer, "when was the last time somebody besides yourself made you cum?" you're taken aback at his question, but not uncomfortable in the slightest. you lean forward resting your chin in your hands before pondering, "s' been years, i can't even remember to be honest with you."

your doctor bites his lip before speaking, "and would you say, that has caused some sexual frustration on your end?" you nod, too distracted to vocalize an answer as you watch him chew on his lip.

"while in that relationship did you ever consider pursuing any other sexual partners?" he shifts in his chair crossing his legs.

you pause in thought, "yeah, i honestly did. i never acted on those thoughts though, i would have felt terrible."

dr. trafalgar clenches his jaw, "how about now? do you have any desire to fulfill your needs as of late?" he leans back in his chair, legs still crossed as if he's hiding something.

you feel feverish at this point, his line of questioning mixed with the pure aura of sex he exudes is too much for you to handle. "i-i... um yeah. i'm just waiting to find someone who is willing to do the same with me."

"can i be honest miss y/n?" he questions, his icy eyes trained on your lips before darting back to your face. you nod once again as you stare back in awe, nodding.

"i find you to be incredibly attractive," he rolls up his sleeves, revealing more ink along his forearms. "fuck professionality, i want to make you feel good."

you stare back in shock, your lips part slightly and your thighs clench together as you feel the heat in your body settle at your core, dampening your panties. you can't form a sentence even if you try as he stares back at you in dead seriousness.

he rests his hands on his knees before standing, his stature making you feel small as he approaches you, bending down face level with you. . "let me repeat myself," he brushes your hair back, goosebumps forming at the warmth of his large hands. "i want to make you feel good, could i do that for you?" you shudder as his lips meet the shell of your ear, his hand resting on the nape of your neck, other in his pocket as he leans over you.

"please," you squeak, eyes trained on the floor in embarrassment. you feel his other hand reach for your chin to which he tilts up, forcing you to look him in the eyes. his half lidded eyes meet yours as he bites his lip, "look at me when you speak miss y/n." your chest heaves at the proximity, his hand leaves the nape of your neck to grab a fistfull of your hair, holding it firmly to keep your gaze on his.

"please," you whisper, your eyes darting down to his pretty lips, "make me feel good." he smirks, tugging your hair softly, "good girl."

he closes the distance by pressing his lips onto yours. the kiss is soft and passionate. his hand stays wrapped in your hair as his lips dance on yours. he softly prods his tongue to tease your bottom lip. you open your mouth to accept his offering to which he presses his tongue fully in, savoring your taste.

you sigh at the intrusion, the feeling of being kissed correctly felt so foreign to you yet so fucking amazing. your tongues collide as you feverishly make out in his office. you gain the courage to grab the collar of his shirt, pulling him closer to you, however you didn't realize your strength as the first two buttons of his shirt ripped off completely.

you break the kiss to marvel at his bare collar bones, also littered with tattoos, you groan at the view to which he smirks. "miss y/n," he says in fake surprise, "didn't know you were so eager." you fake pout at his response and he chuckles before removing his hands from you to slowly undo the buttons of his shirt. as each button pops open, your gaze goes further down his body, taking in as much as you could. every muscle, every speck of ink prominent in your eyes as his shirt dropped to the floor.

you reach your shaky hands up slowly to rest on his ab muscles, to which he grabs your wrists, planting them on his torso. you curiously glide your hands up and down, feeling the taut and warm flesh as your slick starts to seep through your yoga pants.

abruptly, he steps back from you, returning back to his chair and taking a seat, reassuming his manspread position. you now understand why his legs were crossed earlier, his cock is painfully erect through the fabric of his slacks.

"cmere," he grunts, and you do as you're told, stepping closer until you're stood directly in front of him. he reaches his hands up to you, wrapping his arms around your torso, bringing you closer. "miss y/n," he speaks, causing you to look down at him. his face is yet again serious, his eyebrows furrowed. "we can stop at any moment you'd like, tell me if it's too much."

you nod your head at his statement, smiling softly, "okay," you whisper. Dr. Trafalgar starts to kiss your stomach through your sweater, his hands raking down your back before reaching dangerously close to your ass. he suddenly halts, "want you bent over on my lap," he grunts, removing his face from your sweater to look up at you. "mhm," you hum as you position yourself over his lap before laying down. your ass is directly below his face, and your face almost touches the floor, but he holds your hair back to prevent that from happening.

"i'm going to start now, tell me if this is okay," Dr. Trafalgar speaks before you feel his hand start to slide up the back of your thighs. he squeezes every so often, causing jolts of electricity to run through your body. once he reaches the crest of your ass he pauses, "this ok?" he questions.

"yes, please continue," you pant out. he hums as his hand slides over your ass, he grips the flesh in his hand squeezing softly before letting go. "such a nice fuckin' ass," he growls before placing a soft slap on your right cheek. you moan in pleasure as he repeats the action to your other cheek. "hmm whats this?" he questions, moving his hand in between your legs, "this wet already miss y/n?" he starts to rub you through your pants collecting the juices that leaked through, humming in the process.

you twitch as his hand makes contact with your clothed cunt. he rubs softly, the teasing driving you mad as your body slightly vibrates under his control. "so sensitive for me yeah?" he questions, before slapping your ass again, harder this time, causing you to moan loudly. "feels s'good doctor," you whine as he places another harsh slap on your ass, causing you to clench around nothing. "you can call me law sweetness," he sounds before spanking you again, this time leaving a stinging sensation behind.

your clit starts to pulsate through your panties, your juices start to coat not only your opening, but now your thighs as well to which law notices, "you like it when i spank you miss y/n?" you yelp as another slap is placed on your behind, "fuck-law yes i love it." he chuckles above you, "good girl."

you feel his hands move up your ass and hook around the waist band of your yoga pants, "ass up," he commands to which you oblige. you arch your back as he slides your pants down your legs, revealing your soaked panties. he hums as his fingers come in contact with your cunt, rubbing circles around the area around your entrance, before slipping one finger inside the fabric.

you shudder as he swipes his finger up and down, collecting as much wetness as he can while creating a delicious friction on your clit. "you like that huh?" he questions as he slips one finger inside of you. you twitch at the feeling, his long and slender finger moves in and out of you, pumping slowly as to warm you up. "y-yes," you pant out as you clench around his finger.

before speeding up any further he slips another finger past your panties and into your entrance, stretching you out so good as you wail out. his grip on your hair tightens as you lose composure, your eyes screw shut in pleasure as his fingers work in and out of you.

when his fingers hook over one particular spot, you twitch involuntarily causing him to chuckle, "so that's the spot huh?" he continues to hit the same spot, his fingers repeatedly hooking in and out of your hole as pressure builds in your lower stomach. curses and moans leave your mouth as you feel yourself losing complete composure. drool seeps from your lips as your body vibrates under his touch.

just when you think it can't get any better he slips his thumb through your panties and onto your clit, rubbing circles as he continues the pace of his fingers. "f-fuck law," you cry out as a tingling sensation overtakes your senses. "yeah? tell me how good it feels," he groans. "feels so fucking good, keep going g-gonna cum," you whine out between breaths. he keeps the pace he set, not speeding up nor slowing down. he releases your hair as your head falls limp he reaches his forearm to catch you, hand moving down to your chest and flicking your nipple through your shirt adding a third point of stimulation.

"say my name," law commands as your climax approaches. your body spasms atop him, "wanna hear you fuckin' say it." you manage to choke out his name, "l-law oh fuck law gonna cum, please please please," you wail your legs shaking harshly.

"that's it baby, cum for me," he grunts as your cunt flutters around his fingers. you cry out as your orgasm washes over you, the triple stimulation giving you the most astounding feeling ever. fire erupts all over your body as your juices coat his hand. his hands keep working you, making sure you ride out your climax fully, as your whole body shudders underneath him. chants of his name leave your mouth as a mantra as you pant for air.

he slows down his movement slowly but surely until he completely stills. your body lays limp on top of him almost collapsing on the floor before he catches you in his arms, pulling you to sit on his lap, wrapping his strong arms around you. you bury your head in the crook of his neck, gasping as you catch your breath. "how was that miss y/n?" law questions, his voice muffled by your shoulder, you feel the rasp of his voice rumble through your spent body. "so. fucking. amazing." you sigh becoming almost limp in his arms.

"i'm glad to hear that," you can feel his smile through the fabric of your sweater which causes you to reciprocate. he pulls you off his shoulder to look you in the eyes, smirking, "so, let's schedule your next appointment."

love, bia ૮ • ﻌ - ა

#love bia ૮ • ﻌ - ა⁩#law smut #trafalgar law #trafalgardwaterlaw #trafalgar one piece #trafalgar d law x reader #trafalgar law smut #trafalgar d water law #one piece fan fiction #one piece law #one piece x you #one piece x y/n #one piece x reader #trafalgar op

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i-literally-cant-with-this · 3 months

Text

A/N ::: This is mostly SFW with a few little NSFW's at the end. I'll put a cut there for those of you that don't wanna see that part.

Breakup HC's

SFW mostly

When you break up with Draken, he's a hot mess for a minute. He stops eating.

Starts sleeping anywhere but his bed because it still smells like you. Mikey's house. Takashi's couch. Anywhere he can catch a minute of peace and drift off into an unconscious bliss.

He can't look anywhere without seeing your face.

Can't listen to anything without hearing your sweet, pretty voice singing along.

He stops showering for a while.

Stops braiding his hair, settling for a top knot instead. It doesn't matter, anyway, if you're not there to play with it. He might even just shave the shit off. What's the point of having hair if no one is going to run their fingers through it while you’re watching a movie together or if they play with it while you’re out on a midnight bike ride/fun run.

Doesn't eat much anymore. Nothing tastes as good if you don't make it.

Quits watching tv. He seems to always find himself flipping through channels around the same time of the day (when your favorite shows were on).

Promises that he's going to wash all of his clothes "soon" to get the last remaining fibers of your being off of them.

Can't bring himself to change his sheets just yet, despite him avoiding them like the plague.

Doesn't bitch about how sad he is to many people. Just his really close friends. Mostly Takemichi because no one he knows is more in touch with their feelings than he is. Takemichi just gets it.

(NSFW-adjacent under the cut)

When he does shower, either from being able to smell himself or the guys literally dragging him kicking and screaming into his bathroom, he tries to but fails at jerking off. Thinking about your pretty mouth wrapped around the head of his cock. Licking and sucking on him. It just makes him more sad.

One of the guys would take him out one night to a stripclub. But not anyone that is close to him like Mikey, Mitsuya. They would understand the hurt he's feeling and probably respect that. For a little while, at least.

They'd buy him a lapdance with a stripper that looks the exact opposite of you to help him forget about you. But while she's shaking her bare ass in his face and rubbing her tits, making that slutty face at him trying to get a reaction, Draken can't even feel his dick twitch.

When Draken finally musters up enough ... life force (? cuz we all know that's what it takes sometimes to get off your ass after a bad break up) to do laundry, he fuckin' finds a pair of your panties. His favorites on you. There was nothing special about them. They were white cotton with lace around the waistband and tiny pink hearts scattered all around. He just always thought they were cute. Mikey walked in and yanked them from his hand and threw them in the toilet and flushed them.

"The fuck, Mikey!" Draken said. He was so worn out that he couldn't even find the energy to yell about it.

"You'll thank me later, Kenchin. You'll thank me later."

Taglist ::: @arlerts-angel @darkstarlight82

#draken headcanons #tokrev #tokyo revengers #tokyo rev x you #tokrev x you #tokrev x reader #tokyo rev x reader #draken #ken ryuguji #ryuguji ken

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misssakuramochi · 3 months

Text

NOT QUITE REQUITED

In which the reader confesses to Alastor, not quite knowing what to expect

Fandom; Hazbin Hotel

Genre; Fluff (I guess)

Characters; Alastor, Reader

Pairing; One sided!ReaderxAlastor

a/n; I did my best on aroace!Alastor, but please feel free to give me any feedback you may have on writing an aroace person more accurately ❤️

---

Demonic ears perked, twitching ever so slightly as they picked up on the sound of soft footsteps coming their way. Each step was careful, near silent, as the demon behind them tried oh so desperately not to interrupt.

Normally this would alarm Alastor - he didn't become the ever famed (or perhaps innfamous) radio demon without pushing a few buttons. But, between the sound of the footsteps and the soft whispering that became apparent as it got closer, it wasn't difficult for Alastor to figure out just who was sneaking up behind him.

"Hello there, my dear." Head turning fully a moment before the rest of his body swung to match, Alastor met your surprised expression with his usual ear-to-ear grin. It made you jump, just a little, and yet you couldn't help but find the uncanny nature of the demon before you charming.

"Hi! Um, that is to say good evening. I was hoping you might have a quick moment to chat?" Alastor fed on the anxiety in your voice. It was pathetic in a way he found delictibly adorable, in his own way. Meek as you had begun, this was perhaps the boldest you'd been in your 5 attempts to tell the overlord of your feelings. At least, it was until you opened your mouth again.

"Unless you're busy! Of course that's fine, if you're busy I can come back later--" Alastor's smile twitched upwards, shifting for a moment from friendly to uncanny valley as he resisted the urge to chuckle. It was amusing, really, how shy you were-- how you thought for even a moment that he hadn't long since seen through you and your intentions.

"Too busy? For you?" The way you stopped dead, already pink, made Alastor want to eat you right up, "Never! Come now, tell me what it is you need." Speaking as if he didnt already know, Alastor's arm wrapped around your shoulder. He could feel you turn to lead under even the simplest of his touches, and he allowed himself to relish in the feeling of power for just a moment.

Leading you with a little more difficulty than anticipated towards the office he'd taken use of while in the hotel, you moved stiffly.

You found yourself almost unable to breathe this close to Alastor. About to confess in a way that you had imagined a thousand times, each another way it could go spectacularly wrong, your heart had fallen into your stomach. It sat like a lump, making you nauseous.

You'd tried this already, more times than yoy cared to count. Each time you'd found a reason not to confess. Each time, you'd scolded yourself for your cowardice. You couldn't let yourself down like that again.

"Now," you'd arrived at the office before you knew it, Alastor quickly ushering you onto one of the stools adjacent his desk before finding his place at the almost regal chair behind the desk, "What was it thay you needed from me?"

The way his voice lowered, eyes narrowed, made the lump in your throat almost impossible to speak around. He was trying to read you, discern out your real intentions. You knew him well enough to know when those eyes eyes were calculating.

It was strange to say the least that you had seemingly fallen so innocently for him. At least, Alastor thought so. After all, you, loathe as he was to admit it, knew him better than most. But, he supposed that strange as people often saw him as, you were... well, rather quirky yourself. That, and Alastor knew you - being able to read you like a book was one of the reasons he'd let you get so close.

Ego and caution battled in Alastors brain as he half-listened to you ramble on, thanking him for his time as you tried to work up the nerve to say what you really meant.

"What I mean to say is... I kind of... well, really like you Alastor." There it was. Part of Alastor was relieved-- after all, on the one hand, he had been waiting nearly a month now for you to finally make your confession plainly rather than dancing around him like a sore subject. The other part, however, couldn't help but tense: because on the other hand, he had been dreading this encounter in equal measure to his expectation of it.

It wasn't that Alastor didn't like you, exactly - at least, in his own way. But love... well, even if he particularly wanted to he couldn't love you quite the way you would him. Or course, there was no way you could know this - personal facts were something Alastor kept close to his chest.

The way Alastor chucked, deep and less malicious than usual, set butterflies in your stomach. Their dance made you feel all the sicker, heart racing in an anticipatory fluster as clawed hands ruffled your hair.

"I am the beloved radio demon after all." Alastor could tell he hadn't quite nailed that landing when he felt you cringe at his words. Undeterred, his smile remained unchanged as he took back his hand and clasped it together with the other behind his back.

"So? What is it you're looking for then my dear?" The way Alastor sat across from you, leaning back and letting his hands rest into a steepled position made you feel like you were in a business deal.

"Um, I guess..." It was a question you didn't really know how to answer. What did you want out of this interaction? Of course, in your wildest fantasies you knew what you wanted -- to form a relationship. But this was Alastor, enigma extraordinaire. You had no idea how the man truly felt about anything let alone the idea of being in a romantic partnership. You could dream, perhaps, of a future by the demons side, but what did you realistically expect?

"I guess I just wanted to tell you. I've been thinking about it a lot, and I thought you deserved to know." Alastor blinked slowly, oke eye before the other. You'd done something extrodinsrially rare in this moment - you'd surprised him.

Unused to genuine connection, to kindness, especially whilst literally in hell with the actual worst of people, Alastor hadn't expected your reasoning to be so... selfless. Or benign. It was strange, and yet he couldn't help but feel his smile tug upwards, just a little. It was... amusing. It reminded him why he'd helped you find your way to the hotel in the first place.

"Well then thank you for telling me!" It would be a lie to say the lack of response didn't stirr a pot of disappointment in your gut. But, the way Alastor smiled at you, judgement free and unchanged, made you smile, "Now was there anything else?"

You couldn't help but laugh at how casual Alastor sounded, as if you hadn't just taken perhaps the biggest risk in your afterlife. Even as he tilted his head, not quite understanding your joviality, you simply smiled.

"Never change, Alastor."

#headcanon #imagine #oneshot #alastor #hazbin hotel #alastor x reader #x reader #reader insert #fluff

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gingerjolover · 2 months

Note

I need jb riding my strap for Valentine’s Day 🫠❤️💗

OOOOOH BABY

this one is SO highly requested, and ive got some opinions

shall we take a blurb-esque journey together?

RPF smut under da cut, minors gtfo<3

there was no specification for reader but i think this could be soft!gf reader or even masc!reader bc realistically i think you're getting treated like a princess on valentines day

i do think jules has certain feelings about v-day like maybe the capitalistic affects on holidays riddled with consumerism

but she also will use ANY excuse to spoil you

so vday could be a day where jb literally just does whatever you want, like you wanna go to the aquarium? you bet your ass she's taking you to the aquarium. movie marathon? oh babe, she's on it and has snacks and drinks and the living room all cozy and decked out

depending on how long your relationship has been going on for or even if its relatively new but maybe it' your first vday together, its clear that jb is a GIVER

like she would literally rip the moon from the sky and give it to you kneeling down holding it on a silver platter for your taking

but the one thing that you really want is to give back to her

and there are plenty of things that you can do for jules, she strikes me as a "just wanna be in the same room and breathe the same air" kind of lover

like after a long day you washing her hair, giving her tense muscles a massage, rubbing cuticle oil on her nails and giving her hands a massage with some nice lotion, "coloring" in her tattoos, or even just giving her a long hug or cuddling and pressing kisses to her skin are all acceptable physical means of compensation for what she does for you

but she doesn't ask for things, especially during sex

she strikes me as someone who isn't quite stone, but maybe somewhere adjacent where like yes of course she wants to get off but she finds SO much pleasure in making you feel good that sometimes she doesn't NEED to

but you want to spoil her so after a really nice dinner or maybe a fun day at home, you're both snuggled up and on the couch or the bed and i think the approach might be a little different

soft!gf is definitely more timid when initiating sex, not like timid like shy but more passive? like jb knows your body better than you do practically and she knows by the way you squirm that you want her to fuck you

regardless, i think jb's perfect starting point is her being able to make you cum at least once with her mouth/fingers OR a combo

like thats a starting point, it can only build up from there but to her that is the best way for her to gauge where you're at and its a good spot for her to be (girlie LOVES to be between your thighs, she eats like she's never eaten before i will die on this hill)

and jb will usually kiss up your body afterwards, her wet chin and lips smacking kisses on every part of your skin

the little fucker loves to press her lips to yours, mumbling against your mouth, usually along the lines of "tastes good, hm?", moving away from your lips and pressing kisses on your face, her brown eyes twinkling mischievously

and usually your hands in her hair as she makes her way down, tongue and teeth teasing a nipple, sucking hickeys into your chest but tonight you tug on her hair gently

she looks up, lips all puffy and pink, baby cow eyes blown out with lust, "what're ya rushin' me for?" or something comes out of her mouth, her lil southern twang making an appearance

and you're like, "the strap," and she's smirking, thinking you're being needy and she tries to dive back in, "be patient..."

"no i- i wanna use it on you," tumbles out of your mouth, confidence skyrocketing from your first orgasm

and she looks like a deer in headlights being like, "huh- w-what?"

and all it really takes is you whining a please, before she's helping you adjust it on your body

i feel like soft!gf has very little experience actually wearing the strap, maybe masc!gf has more experience despite jb being the giver in the relationship

either way jb is sitting lowkey awkwardly, her cheeks are a pink mess or she's doing that eye thing where it's kinda giving side eye

"we don't- i don't have to do this jay, i can just use my mouth," you say, making sure she knows she has full control

and she's stammering like, "what?! no i just-"

"what baby?" you ask her so sweetly, running a hand through her hair, and she's shaking like a fucking leaf

"if you keep looking at me like that with that, thing, on you i'm gonna cum," she says quickly, hella embarrassed that just you kneeling on the bed with it is doing something to her

it's honestly a blur but next thing you know jb is on top, riding the strap, your hands on her hips

and she talks about you being whiny.... biiiiitch she is the WHINIEST mf ever on the strap okay

she literally can't form coherent words, her forehead is glued to your shoulder, her breathing heavy as her hands press on the bed next to your head

you have to encourage her to keep going, truthfully she doesn't have a ton of rhythm, like the way she moves her hips is sloppy because she's feeling more than just the base of the strap on her clit like she would normally feel

i think you'd adjust slightly, pushing her up gently and thrusting upwards and she would damn near shriek

it takes a lot to get her worked up sexually, she's the dirty talker when she's domming you but she has no words, just little mumbles and whines and whimpers and they sound so pretty you can't help but patronize her just a bit because she does the same to you but a million times worse casually

"doing so good jay," you'd breathe out and she's about to lose it

poor jb's literally leaking all over the base of the strap like she can't help it

and when she cums she literally squeals and you have to stifle a giggle because her face is buried into your neck

she moves in to overstim territory pretty quickly so you kinda move her off of it and pull out which she does not like and she kinda huffs when you do

and then you pull out all the stops

lots of kisses, warm cloth, ice water through a silicon straw (she likes to bite them this is my hc another hill i will die on), words of affirmation and praise and then a nice soak in the tub

i wouldn't say she's in subspace but she is kind of in a haze until she's laying with her back against your front in the tub and its almost like she sobers up

"you're in my spot," she grumbles, the grumpiness in her voice a result of absolute vulnerability

you just giggle, pushing her hair out of her face and kissing her cheeks

"we can switch" before she's scoffing like of course you were going to switch

there is definitely a debrief about how she felt, i think she can't quite articulate how much she likes it but its not going to be an everyday thing because as much as it felt good she feels more pleasure getting you off

*insert cheesy "happy valentine's day" exchange here* which julien engages in with an eye roll and a small smile before going into the history of western consumer driven holidays

and of course when engaging in pillowtalk, she does spitball some "new positions" that you could try if "you ever want to ya know, wear the strap again," and you're like.... "so you liked it?" with a smirk, and she's kinda playing it off before being like, "maybe for my birthday we could..."

#anon cutie #julien baker x reader #boygenius x reader #julien baker smut #julien baker blurb #gingy's cupid shuffle #gingy's blurb night #sorry this is so late y'all!#posting a lot the next few days #love u<3

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ataraxiaspainting · 2 months

Text

Secrets of Wisteria.

Yan (Serial Killer) ??? x GN Reader.

Synopsis: They don't know what to do with you.

Warnings: Yandere themes, kidnapping, gender-neutral yandere, violence/mentions of gore, thoughts of murdering the reader, manipulation, implications of sex work, mentions of starvation, drugging/alcohol, stalking, and dehumanization.

Word Count: 1.3k.

insert your fav!

*~*~*~*

It is said that everything in the universe has its place as a part of a side of a never-tipping scale.

A shining star provides warmth but also burns the flesh of those who get too close. The moon resembles that of an Earth erased of all life, a planet in all but name to some, promising to be a guiding light, but in reality is just a cold, desolate land.

Do such beautiful stars ever scorch the adjacent moons? Do such pale, blue moons ever cause the brightness of adjacent stars to die with a shallow, husky breath? Do they simply stay with one another, because despite being able to hurt one another, the chain of space forces them to stay together?

Questions that, because of you and because of them, may finally be answered. It hurts them but also entices them.

Despite everything you had been through together, you had hurt them in ways no others have ever done.

They suffer whenever they are near enough to smell your perfume, wanting to close up their nostrils, throat, and mouth before they go down in a flame of their own making.

The perfume is mixed with the scent of others’ sweat and pleasure, staining it in what feels to be shades of a dirty, dark black. If only you could see it, the blind fool you always were and still are.

They suffer whenever they hear your voice, see the way your lips move, your moans and little gasps. It sounds more tempting than that of a siren’s call.

Your face, the way you bat your eyelashes to get what you want. Your eyes are brighter than any supernova.

Their entire being is a black hole that wants nothing more than to swallow you.

You hurt them whenever they think of you, never wanting to burn an image of you so deeply into their brain. But, like a parasite, you unknowingly persisted. Now it is so rooted, that it has replaced some of their nerves and has left them wanting so much more. They are addicted to this poison you have created and forced down their throat. It is only fair that they get to do the same to you.

They put something in your drink to make everything down the road that much easier.

Being a blind fool, you didn’t notice that your wine turned into a deep shade of pink.

Pink in your cup, and red in theirs. The colors of love.

They didn’t have it in themselves, despite all of the unfortunate souls they have banished to hell, to put cyanide in your glass.

It would have been a much more merciful death in their opinion, though. It was fitting for a rat like you. But also will give you so much less pain than those who have met their end by a torturous blade.

You gulped it down with such ease. They were, to say the least, your favorite patron, giving you no reason to doubt them.

It was so hard to make money these days, especially in a town like this. You were grateful for them.

But still, you decided to hurt them.

It’s your fault, honestly—all of it. You are the sole reason that their kills aren’t as sharp as they used to be, so much more impulsive than they used to be.

They almost got caught just the other day. They had sprung into action without a thought in their mind to go for a person who looked just like you from behind, down to the clothes they wore.

It's all your fault. It's all your fault.

Whore.

That is what they want to say.

But they cannot, not yet at least.

…

“Come, we are almost there.” With each step down the stone stairs, a water droplet falls from above, the underground tunnel’s top.

These walls are older than some dynasties if their memory recalls. Made of the bones of traitors and peasants who have passed on from much more painful pains.

It was easy to sneak some of their victims’ bodies in here and place them in such a way that no one would ever know the truth.

“Why here, my dear sponsor?” Your eyes follow the lantern in their left hand, swinging left and right like a pendulum.

They don’t answer.

You don’t ask any more questions, your limbs feeling heavy from all of the walking and the alcohol.

“You trust me, don’t you?”

The rocks below you feel like they are moving. “Sure.”

You must have gone so deep into the earth by now that you can practically see the gates of hell. The lantern’s light is almost out, and the air feels heavy and damp.

“We are almost there.”

You feel so dizzy.

They feel so elated.

Not a word is said until they suddenly stop. A split path.

They point to the left.

You wait, but they do not move.

A second. Two. Three.

Is that uncertainty they see in your eyes?

That is new. It makes them excited for what is to come next.

“Simply go down that hall and you will see the cellar… I will be right behind you.” They added that last part to quell your questioning gaze.

They have never lured anyone here alive before. But like everyone else who has seen these catacombs and their cellar, you won’t leave them alive.

They can’t leave you as much as they try.

It is only natural that they use the chain that holds you two together to their advantage for once.

Their truth works. Your second thoughts vanish like the trapdoor and the ladder down the hall, to the beginning, an entrance to a hell you will never be able to open again.

It is quite fortunate to them that you are such a blind fool.

It is quite fortunate to them that you overlooked that skeleton that looked a little too fresh.

It is quite fortunate that they are such a good planner. They didn’t starve the man for nothing, it seems.

“...Alright. But… I will get my pay after this, won’t I?”

They nod.

“Of course.” They reply. “What sort of patron would I be if I did not give you what is due?”

Such a blind fool you are.

They’ll keep you. You are simply too stupid and too tempting to be free. “...Thank you.”

Along with the words of genuine gratitude, the flame finally extinguishes.

“...Huh?”

A swift chop is the last thing you hear, your body collapsing is the last thing you feel and see before you go unconscious.

“For everything.”

They don’t drag you like they do the others, instead putting in the effort to pick you up and curl your head into their chest.

“...”

This brings back memories both bitter and sweet for them. The first time you laid on the bed. The first time you kissed them. The first time they managed to drag someone else unconscious down here, although with much less care.

“...I mean it.”

They cleaned up everything in the cellar just for you, all of the gore disposed of. Though their trophies will remain. The brain of a doctor in a jar. The eyes of a photographer. The left hand of a young widow, the ring still on the rotting finger.

It will serve as a warning to you to behave, hopefully, for your sake. Making them angry is a bad idea for everyone involved. They would hate to bandage your broken limbs and stitch you back together like some stuffed toy.

As they hum a tune only you have heard, they think of what collar to place on that pretty neck of yours. It is an important decision. That collar will stay on you far past when you are mounted on their wall, after all. But that is years if not decades away.

“...Thank you. You made everything so much easier.”

The scale tips in favor of the pale blue moons.

*~*~*~*

Hunter x Hunter - Feitan, Hisoka, Illumi.

My Hero Academia - Dabi, Bakugou, Shigaraki, Overhaul, Enji.

Jujutsu Kaisen - Geto, Sukuna, Toji, Kenjaku, Mahito, Mei Mei.

Genshin Impact - (Fatui Harbinger/Fake Archon) Scaramouche, Arlecchino, Columbina, Dottore.

Honkai Star Rail - Sparkle, (Mara Struck) Jingliu, (Mara Stuck) Blade, Kafka, Dr. Ratio.

Bungou Stray Dogs - Fyodor Dostoevsky.

Final Fantasy VII - Sephiroth.

Demon Slayer - Muzan, Sanemi.

Hazbin Hotel - Alastor, Valentino, Vox.

Twisted Wonderland - Jade, Floyd, Leona, Rook, Lilia, Vil, Jamil.

Chainsaw Man - Makima, Barem.

Baldur's Gate III - (Ascended) Astarion, Cazador, Shar, Rapheal, Minthara, Mizora, Zariel.

*~*~*~*

free pdf of the cask of amontillado if anyone's interested!

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missmaywemeetagain · 3 months

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Got a Lotta Lovin' to Do (A Scarf Universe Story) ❤️‍🔥

Okay, sooooo...this just came to me in a strange fit of inspiration this week. It's naughty but also a little sweet in concept. It may not be for everyone, so let's say it's currently canon adjacent for the Pink Scarf Universe...

This takes place a few months post A Pink Scarf Thanksgiving, in February of 1978. Yes, I know, we make it to '78 and there is something both heart wrenching but also wonderful in that, isn't there?

I wanted something that felt real but also a bit indulgent, and also wanted to bring our spitfire Sandy back into play. In fact, I made it from Sandy's perspective, which was a bit challenging considering the use of second person, but hopefully it makes sense!!

Premise is that Reader is in a fix, desperate to coax a very nervous Elvis back into her bed, and enlists her best friend Sandy to help in an unorthodox way.

Anyway, I'm a bit nervous about this one 😬 and am just sort of testing the waters as a preview, so let me know if you like it and want me to continue it! (Also, the turnaround was fast, so please excuse the semi-rough edit/revision! 🙏🏼)

xoxoxox, Madi 💗

(listen, I know this pic is much earlier than '78, but the vibe is right and the hint of silver at his roots seems applicable and has me in a chokehold, so bear with me here...)

TW: sexy smutty stuff, heading towards a threesome (mff/fmf), mention of medical issues/trauma, sassy Sandy, silver fox Elvis!!🦊

Got a Lotta Lovin’ to Do

February 1978

“Darlin’, you sayin’ what I think you’re sayin’?” he asks you. Elvis’ eyebrow is halfway to his hairline and he sounds more incredulous than hopeful, but Sandy can see the twinkle in his eyes when they slide over to her. It’s more than a cursory glance, one filled with questions and a latent heat. She wrestles with the urge to fidget under his gaze, clenching and unclenching her fists instead of looking away from his scrutiny.

She’s certainly never been one to back down from a fight, not even with the enigma that is Elvis Presley.

Especially not with him, she thinks.

But Elvis has never looked at her like this before and even knowing him as long as she has, she isn’t unaffected. Despite everything he’s been through this past year, he still has the ability to level a woman with a look, she’ll give him that.

His eyes slide back over to you, and Sandy can breathe again. It’s gonna be a long night, she thinks, if a mere glance has her feeling so exposed.

You nod, biting your lip, and she knows how nervous you are, how desperate you are for this to work. She grabs your hand in solidarity and you squeeze it in return.

If it were anyone but you, she wouldn’t have agreed to this. It is much too messy, but extraordinary people and circumstances call for extraordinary measures, and being in Elvis’ world has always meant living in shades of gray.

Sandy knows she’s the only one you’ll trust with this. For as much shit as she gives Elvis, she loves and cares about you both deeply, more than she might voice in mixed company. And you know she understands why this is so important.

Now the two of you just need to convince Elvis of it, too. Though by the increasing level of tension in the room and the way he adjusts himself in his seat, Sandy doesn’t think it’ll take much persuading.

He cuts quite the figure, sitting there in the plush, golden, velvet chair with his bejeweled fingers tapping a slow and steady rhythm out on the arms. After what happened last summer, he’d finally let his hair grow out to its natural color, the salt-and-pepper combined with glinting silvery streaks. It’s incredibly striking, giving him an even more handsome and regal air than before, if that’s possible. With his new post-recovery regime, he is looking good and, according to you, feeling healthier than he had in years. The result is attractive, to say the least.

But while that side of things improved, the sexual piece apparently has not.

Sandy and you perch on the edge of the bed, sitting so close you are pressed against each other, facing him, waiting for his verdict. Elvis takes in the two of you closely before sliding his eyes back over to her.

“And you, Sandra? You agreed to this?” His voice is laden with curiosity and surprise. She doesn’t blame him.

“Yes, with conditions,” she says, willing her voice to stay steady and calm when she’s feeling anything but.

He chuckles darkly. “Of course. I’d expect nothin’ less from you, honey.”

The endearment, one he’s used with her a million times over the years, now comes out laden and warm, sliding through her veins like liquid heat. She’s not sure how she feels about it, to be honest, but it’s a little late to turn back now.

Sandy looks at you for permission to continue. You nod.

“Okay, first, this is a one-time deal,” she begins, forcing herself to look him straight in those endlessly blue eyes.

His lips curve up with the beginning of a smirk and it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to know what he’s thinking. She thinks it’s funny how he’s posturing, considering the whole reason she is here is to help bolster his confidence, but she supposes over twenty years of adoration from females makes his response a habit.

Honestly, it’s the stipulation she’s the least worried about, it being there more for your sake than hers, and it gives you all an out if this goes south. But boundaries are good for Elvis. So she quirks a brow back at him until he nods.

“Second, no one hears about this. It’s a nonstarter. No bragging to the guys, ever. No one outside this room can ever know…especially not Jerry.”

This is the one she is most worried about. While her marriage to Jerry ended over half a decade ago, on relatively decent terms considering the circumstances, she knows this would cut Jer to the core, and that is not why she’s here. Jerry isn’t in Elvis’ employ anymore, but they are still good friends, brothers even, and she doesn’t want to ruin their relationship.

A cloud of seriousness falls over Elvis’ face, banishing his earlier mirth, and that lets her know they are on the same page with this one, despite his terrible track record of secret keeping. “Done,” he says with finality.

“Good. Third, I reserve the right to bow out at any time,” she adds.

“Honey, I’d never force you to do somethin’ you din’t want to do. Ain’t never been like that and ain’t startin’ now,” he says with surprising gentleness.

She nods, expecting as much. Taking a deep breath, she pauses before the last request, mainly because she can’t believe she’s actually saying it out loud. Might as well just get it done.

“Finally, your dick stays out of my pussy.”

He chuckles at your frankness while you choke, coughing wildly—she hadn’t warned you about this one. It’s more the principle of the thing, really. She is along for the ride, sure, but in the end, she’s mostly here for your wellbeing. And by the way he looks at Sandy with something akin to respect and nods as she rubs his wife’s back, she knows he understands.

You eventually recover from Sandy’s bluntness, turning your attention back to your husband with a hopeful look in your eyes. “So, is this…I mean…do you want to do this, baby?”

For the first time, you see his trepidation, his overwhelm of the situation only barely covered by his mask of humor. This is what you’d been talking about, this reluctance and lack of self-assurance. When you’d come to her about the fact that Elvis hadn’t been intimate with you since the medical crisis that nearly killed him, it made perfect sense. Not only had he gone through something terrifying, but his surgeries also changed his body in ways that must have been uncomfortable. Coupled with extensive recovery and weaning off old medications and starting new ones, it was a recipe for disaster in the bedroom.

Sandy knew you had to be desperate for you to ask her for this kind of help. You knew it wasn’t because Elvis found you unattractive or didn’t love you anymore—he was afraid he couldn’t perform, afraid he couldn’t satisfy you, and you were afraid you’d hurt him somehow. It was obvious your sex life had been amazing in the past, though according to you, it had dwindled the sicker and more in denial about things he’d gotten. But for you to invite her into the bedroom to put the spark back in their marriage wasn’t something Sandy had expected.

Apparently, Elvis loved some girl-on-girl threesome action and had indulged in such things back before you and he had finally gotten together. You were never entirely comfortable with the idea when Elvis brought it up in the past—the idea of sharing him didn’t sit well and knowing Elvis, he’d make some poor woman fall in love with him or someone would talk and you’d be in a fix, so the idea had been nixed before it could take root.

But now you were frantic and willing to try almost anything, which apparently included asking your best friend to fool around with you and your husband.

It’s a matter of trust, you’d said, twiddling your fingers uncomfortably in Sandy’s kitchen, tears pooled in your eyes. You knew she’d never talk, knew she’d never betray you, and most importantly, knew she could separate sex from emotion and would never fall in love with your husband.

It was all true. How could she say no to you when you needed her help so badly? So, here she was, apprehensive but intrigued, waiting for Elvis to decide all of your fates.

“You can just watch, baby, if you want to, or whatever, it’s fine,” you encourage him when he seems frozen and unable to respond. Sandy can see you both floundering in indecision and fear and can’t stand it anymore. She’s never been one for patience or inaction, after all, so without further ado, she silences your pleas for your husband’s attention with her lips.

“Oh!” you exclaim in quiet surprise against her mouth, your hands flailing a bit in resistance.

Talking about something like this and doing it are two different things, Sandy knows, but she persists, kissing you gently, hands cupping your cheeks, until you relax enough to kiss her back. She can’t help but feel a little gratification when you sigh softly and yield to her, your hands flitting to the curve of her hips.

It would be stupid to say she didn’t find both you and Elvis attractive, but never in her wildest dreams had it been in the cards to have either of you, so she’d never dwelled much on it. But now, feeling the weight of his gaze as she laps her tongue between your lips, testing your willingness to do this, her body lights on fire.

She pushes through the foreign feeling of being watched so intimately, knowing this is just as much about putting on a good show than anything else, but she didn’t expect it to be quite so tantalizing. Something about being the one to take charge sends a thrill down her spine. Dragging her lips down your neck to your collarbone, she knows she’s not imagining the rapid fluttering of your pulse under her lips or the way you lean back to give her more access.

You’ve never been with a woman, but she knows it’s been a long time since you’ve had attention of this sort from your man, either so when Sandy trails her fingers down over your breast, she feels the jolt go through you. Her moves are deliberate but slow, allowing you to acclimate, allowing Elvis to take in every movement.

She can’t help the warmth pooling in her belly when she palms the heaviness of your breast, pinching your clothed nipple and you gasp, arching into her with genuine willingness.

“Lord have mercy,” Elvis huffs quietly, and you both know you have him.

It’s much too easy, then, to unbutton your blouse, exposing the white lace bra underneath before pulling hers up over her head to reveal her own. You’d been clear about the white—apparently he gets all kinds of excited about little white underthings—and far be it for her to ignore such a titillating detail.

Sandy takes it upon herself to continue the play, pressing her lips to the soft skin of your décolletage, following the soft rise of your breasts before nuzzling and nipping at the dusky areola peek-a-booing through the lace. Mewling and pawing at her head, you are strung so tight Sandy thinks you’re not acting in the least.

It’s a little strange, this softness of your curves against her own, but pleasant. Moreover is the deep satisfaction in her belly at drawing little whimpers out of you as she kisses and reveals more of your skin. Even more surprising is the gratification of bringing something out of both you and your husband that has been out of reach for much too long.

Your fingers cart through her hair, manicured nails tickling her scalp in a way that makes her vibrate. She arches at the contact and looks up at you with a coy smile, sliding a hand up your smooth leg and under the hem of your skirt.

Elvis clears his throat, interrupting them. “Be good lil’ girls f’me and s-strip down to your panties,” he says in a gravelly voice Sandy has never been privy to hearing. A shiver runs down her spine, melting and churning with all the new feelings the evening is bringing. His tone is halfway between a need and a command and neither of you need to be asked twice.

Her inhibitions fall to the floor in a heap along with pants and skirts and bras. Never once in her life did she expect to feel Elvis’ heavy, heated gaze turned on her nearly naked form but now that it’s happening, she can’t help but squirm a little. She has nothing to prove and is usually confident in her skin, but she’s certainly not a young woman anymore, her body soft and curvy with the changes age brings. Her only consolation is at least the three of you are in relatively the same boat in that regard.

Sneaking a glance at Elvis, she is bit relieved to find his examination admiring rather than turned off. Though, considering he has two naked women ready to do his bidding, it seems the natural response.

“Don’t be shy, Satnin. I’m sure Sandra won’t bite toohard if you touch her,” he muses, those bedroom eyes of his flickering with lust. You giggle nervously and then look to Sandy for permission, which she gives with a nod and a reassuring smile.

Your caress is timid at first, then more exploratory of her body than she expects. Maybe it’s the resounding hum of encouragement from your husband giving you more confidence or just pure sexual energy and curiosity, but whatever it is has Sandy feeling delightful. A tweak of a nipple here. A soft tongue there. Hands and mouths finding a rhythm of pleasure.

Sandy palms your bottom, running her fingertips down along the seam of your white underwear, when Elvis cuts in, his voice thick with desire:

“Play with her an’ make her feel good, Sandra.”

Tingles erupt over her skin. She follows orders, sliding her hand down into your panties and through your soft curls until she reaches your hooded clit. She rubs gently, like she would do to herself, and you gasp in her mouth, body bowing to get more friction.

After a few moments, the unmistakable sound of a zipper clicks through the air. Her body suddenly burns with the scandalous nature of it all, and her excitement surprises her.

“Is she wet?” he asks Sandy.

Sliding her fingers down, she can feel the slick of your arousal on her fingertips.

“Yes,” she says unabashedly.

A pause.

“Are you?” His voice is low and dripping with honey.

A pulse of heat starts throbbing in her core, and for the first time tonight, she stumbles over her words, suddenly breathless. “I…I think so?”

“Honey, see if you’re makin’ Sandra excited,” he commands you, then with humor adds, “She apparently doesn’t know.”

Sandy throws a glare Elvis’ way but then your fingers are cold against the blazing heat of her muff, a sensation which makes her jump as you glide your fingers over sensitive, slick skin.

“She’s soaked,” you relay demurely, and all at once Sandy feels like the tables have turned in this little tableau.

“Show me. Both of you.”

His demand makes her stomach drop, like she’s on a roller coaster.

She feels disappointed when you pull your hand away, and the sentiment feels mutual. Both of you display your shining fingers in the dim light.

Elvis crooks his finger and beckons you both closer.

There’s no helping the curious way her eyes drift down and land on his dusky pink cock, the head peeking out from his foreskin, dripping and standing at full attention now he’s been released from the confines of his black pants. Sandy’s mouth goes dry when she realizes just how much nature has blessed him in ways other than his talent.

Is it wrong that she wants to touch it, to feel the heavy heat of him in her palm? To make him shudder underneath her touch? Perhaps so. The itch to torture him with her body just a little for every cunning remark and every dumbass selfish move he’s made in the last 15 years is strong and it makes her tingle just to think of.

He must read the look on her face because his eyes go a bit wide with something unreadable before narrowing with laser focus.

Her heart starts thudding against her ribcage, all the blood rushing out of her head when he wraps his large hand around her wrist, dwarfing it, and pulls her between his spread muscular thighs. Then he draws those glistening fingers of hers right into his mouth.

She gasps. Every nerve in her body is set alight with fireworks as he sucks her fingers clean of his wife’s arousal, his tongue warm and soft and oh-so thorough.

It’s her whimpering now as he pins her with his flaming eyes. Her breath catches. His mouth pops off her digits.

“Mmm…sweet as a sundae. You’ll see, Sandra Dee.” A slow, sly grin spreads across his handsome face as he releases her wrist.

Being on the other end of that devastating smile, especially in a situation like this, has her trembling. It pisses her off a little, actually, that he’s having this effect, and by the glint in his eye, he knows it.

Like he’s saying, Game on.

Then, he looks to you, pulling you close. His mischievousness softens slightly. Sandy is glad to see under the red flush of pleasure on your cheeks there is also a look of relief on your face, as if you are thinking, “Oh, thank heavens, it’s working.”

Sandy steps back, happy to give the couple space, but Elvis’ hand shoots out, latching onto her arm.

“Nuh uh, now where d’ya think you’re goin’?” It’s husky and playful but also fraught with an undercurrent of tension, as though he’s not quite ready and maybe a little nervous about being alone with his wife. He keeps his hand on her arm but turns his attention to you.

“Haven’t sampled another pussy in a loooong time, lil’ mama,” he drawls up at you, “Ya sure you wanna give daddy a taste?” His brow quirks, asking for permission, making sure you’re still comfortable with this arrangement you’ve surprised him with. The words are confident, but Sandy can hear the gravity behind them.

You nod encouragingly. “Yes.”

“Mm’kay then,” and then he sucks your fingers right into his mouth.

Sandy can’t help but blush wildly as she watches him savor her off his wife’s hand. And it’s positively obscene the way he opens his eyes and stares into hers brazenly as he does it.

Never has she felt quite so exposed. Arousal swirls in her core, betraying all her sensibilities.

Elvis runs his tongue under his upper lip after he’s done, where he lets it peek out at the corner of his mouth with a smirk. “Now ain’t that jus’ the cherry on top,” he purrs, eyes sparkling.

Sandy hates how she goes a bit weak in the knees at that. God, this man infuriates her, always has in that loving way of his, but this is a whole different level of understanding and intimacy she’s not accustomed to with him.

But whether she likes it or not, her body is absolutely buzzing with anticipation for the both of you, as evidenced by the way she clenches her thighs and the way her panties get just a little bit more ruined.

The motion doesn’t go unnoticed by Elvis, and his gaze darkens.

Oh, it’s gonna be a long night, alright.

A long night, indeed.

As always, I love and live for your reactions, comments, asks, and reblogs, so thank you in advance for both reading and giving another one of my stories a chance!

Taglist Pt 1

@eliseinmemphis@russian-soft-bitch@tattywood

@sassanoe@thella @suspiciousmidge @hiddlepiddlediddlewiddle@carolinesbookworld @juggernort @aesthetic-lyss @stitchattacks @donnamarie23

@littlebitofgreen@paigevis@bugg06@xhannahbananax03@artlover8992

@18lkpeters@frozenhuntress67@girlblogger2002@kendralavon7@misspresley

@be-my-ally @whositmcwhatsit @vintageshanny @ellie-24 @thatbanditqueen @powerofelvis @from-memphis-with-love

@precious-lil-scoundrel @stylespresleyhearted @prompted-wordsmith @crash-and-cure @elvisgf @lookingforrainbows @fic-over-cannon @godlypresley @ab4eva @whatstruthgottodowithit @elvisabutler @amydarcimarie@idontwanttoputanything @callieselvisobsessed @captainamerica1235-blog @xenaspace3-blog

@simplyamberj@claire-elvisgirl@everythingelvispresley@louisejoy86@deniseinmn @madelynpresley

#got a lotta lovin' to do #a scarf universe story #pink scarf #pink scarf universe #elvis presley #elvis #if you’re looking for trouble #you came to the right place #elvis presley x reader #elvis x reader #elvis smut #elvis fanfiction #elvis presley fanfic #elvis presely smut

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mamawasatesttube · 6 months

Text

other timkonbart-adjacent thoughts that i entertain myself with: the specific vibe of romantic timkon + queerplatonic konbart (who simply don't label it bc they don't feel the need. kon is bart's favorite jungle gym and bart is kon's silly rabbit. what else is there to say?)

kon and bart are just at each other's houses and homes constantly. max loves to talk gardening and farm life with kon, who passes on ma's recipes and tips for his kitchen garden. bart offloads chives (and cucumbers. and zucchini. and eggplants. max for the love of god don't you dare plant that mint) onto kon, who is more than happy to bring by some offerings from the kent family farmer's market stall. bart shows up at the farm all the time just to hang out with kon when he's bored. ma loves to feed him and he loves to eat. it works out incredibly well for the both of them. bart will help himself to kon's closet and sleep in his bed even if kon himself isn't there. this tickles ma pink. at least once kon has made what he calls "the most bitchin' peach cobbler of all time", courtesy of ma's recipe, and bart takes one bite and his entire face lights up and he just launches himself across the room like "bro this is so good i am kissing you on the mouth" and then he does. he's so very aroace but physical affection is good and great and frankly, the peach cobbler is just really that bitchin.

all of which is to say: when kon finally is like soooo ma. im uh. dating one of my friends now :> she's So confused when it's not bart. like... oh, it's... it's not? oh i just thought-- no no tim is very sweet, he fixed the tractor up so well for us, of course i love him! i just, well, i thought you and bart... i've certainly never seen bart perched strangely on the rooftop at half past four in the morning, is all. but you should definitely bring tim around more! that boy is too thin we need to feed him--

#extremely affectionate clingy qpr konbart very important to me #also important to me is ma being like timothy you need to eat more. (scoops more pot pie onto his plate)#he's like um thank you but i--oh. well. okay #what's he gonna do? he can't disappoint ma kent.#he eats the extra helping of pot pie.#kon and bart are both laughing at him.#idiot trio <3 #tim #kon #bart #timkon #konbart

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glowingbadger · 2 years

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Sorry for making two requests but can I also request the mirror sex kink for Elliot and a fem!SO?

Y'know what, I'll allow it, since at least you're asking for characters I adore and don't get the chance to write for often lol (I say as if I'm not 100% in charge of what I write and am not just a slave to positive feedback and attention whoop)

This one kinda just feels... a little different, stylistically than my usual? Idk it's probably not even noticeable, I don't even know if I have a style lmao

Omg I wrote this whole fucking thing spelling "Elliott" with one T and now I have to go through and correct it so I can post it uuuuugh

Elliott (Stardew) x AFAB Reader

Kink prompt list #48 - Mirror sex

NSFW 18+ V

You've finally managed to arrange things so you could join Elliott on his latest book tour- and he's been so thrilled by this development that, a week and several cities into the trip, he's made love to you in nearly every hotel you'd patronized. Something about having you by his side as he pursued his dream in this thrilling new way had stirred his emotions, and in turn, his libido. Still, tonight's hotel has some... quirks.

He'd assured you that his agent had made all of the travel arrangements, that it was just as much a surprise to him. Still, you couldn't help but note a wide range of 'mood lighting' options, the open view into the shower, and not least of all, mirrors spanning both the ceiling and bed-adjacent wall.

"Well," Elliott had chuckled, an arm around your waist and his lips grazing your ear, "best not to squander such an unexpected opportunity, no?"

Soon enough, you're on his lap with your back to his chest and your legs spread, slung over his thighs. He's positioned you both at the edge of the bed facing the mirror, where he can bask in the feeling of your body against his, and the sight of you mewing and trembling in his arms. In the reflection, you see Elliott's golden-red hair spilling elegantly over your shoulder as his lips trail up towards your neck and his hands run tenderly up your sides. His touch is warm, his whole body flush with lust. Briefly, his teeth graze your neck, just as his hands reach your chest, cupping your breasts.

"Mmh, darling..." he sighs against your skin, pulling you more firmly to him while he watches you in the mirror, "You can't imagine how entranced I am by your body. I wonder if seeing yourself like this will communicate even a fraction of your beauty to your own eyes."

"Elliott..." you whimper softly, face tinged pink at the excessive attention. His gaze is fixed on your reflection, watching with obsessive adoration as his hands squeeze and grope your breasts, fingertips briefly brushing over your stiffened nipples. You jump slightly at the sudden pleasure, arching against him, yet this only encourages his hungry touch. Still decorating your neck with lavish kisses, a hand runs slowly down your front until those long fingers press firm between your lower lips. Gasping out his name, you watch him part your folds, see how soft and responsive they are, how obvious your slick arousal is as he touches you with utter reverence.

"Absolutely breathtaking," Elliott says into the crook of your neck, even as his eyes remain transfixed by your reflection, "Your body is so open to me- so receptive. You were made to be adored, my love."

"Ohh-!"

His fingers stroke gently across your clit, teasing it stiff, prompting you to moan aloud and lean into him. You notice his cock steadily growing harder, rising between your thighs, stirred by your obvious pleasure. Never one to neglect your body, his spare hand is still occupied at your chest, rolling your nipple between his fingertips, only stopping occasionally to caress some part of you and relish in the sight of your flesh beneath his touch. Soon, the fingers at your drooling pussy are rolling firm circles around your clit, shocks of pleasure setting your thighs trembling, climax already building. In the mirror, you see his fingers glisten with your overflowing wetness, briefly hypnotized by the loving and yet intensely erotic way they move. Elliott's handsome brow is deeply furrowed as he loses himself in servicing you, and as your breath quickens and your body burns to your core, you know you're nearly at your limit.

"Watch," he whispers, nuzzling against your hair as you tremble in his arms, "You're so beautiful when you cum- watch for me, please?"

Through the haze of white-hot pleasure pulsing through your center, you force your eyes to the mirror before you. It's embarrassing at first, seeing yourself in such a state- bright red and panting with your hair tossed out of place. But then you see the way Elliott looks at you. It's warm and tender, yes, but also blatantly lustful.

It's that gaze that breaks you; in an instant, your body runs hot as you gasp and pleasure rushes up from your over-sensitive pussy through your entire frame. Elliott urges you through your climax, the firm and steady massaging of his fingers sending new ripples through you with each pass, pulling breathless whimpers from you one after another. You bring a shaking hand to cradle his face behind you, yet you force yourself to watch the mirror all the while. Your lover wants you to see yourself how he sees you. When you meet the half-lidded eyes and panting lips of your own reflection, you think that perhaps you understand what he meant.

#god idk if this is any good lmao #stardew valley #elliott stardew valley #elliott x reader #sdv x reader #stardew valley x reader #stardew valley smut #not sfw #sdv smut #kink prompts

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telleroftime · 1 year

Text

Small Comfort ||| Chishiya x Reader

You and Chishiya have been grouped together for a game and you didn’t anticipate the amount of people there. You’re panicking, but Chishiya grounds and comforts you in his own way.

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Request - Anonymous

Pairing: Chishiya Shuntarō x Female ! Reader

Relationship: Romantic

Tone: Angst to Fluff

Word Count: 1k

Warnings: Reader has Social Anxiety, Light Panic Attack (?)

Oneshot Masterlist

A/N: "It should be posted within the next few days" I said. It has been nearly three weeks. I may have forgotten to work on this.

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Tonight was the last night of your visa, a fearful "zero days remaining" bright on the phone's screen, and you had to leave the ironic, stone walls of the hotel. The foe utopia hidden behind the title of the Beach demanded obedience, and with it the order that you could not leave unless the timer struck zero. You were to remain lost within the sickening party of alcohol and deception until the very last second, and you were to be a servant to Hatter until your very last breath. That way they ensured your total 'loyalty'.

And, because of that loyalty, tonight you had to leave. This night you had to participate in the death games, and, no matter the risks, you were happy that Chishiya chose to come with you.

He was wordless when he approached you within the packed lobby, only cocking his head with a knowing smirk before his expression fell back to a mask of cold neutrality.

He was worldless when Hatter announced the beginning of the night's entertainment and when each pre-decided group made its way to the old vehicles prepared by the iron gates of the hotel.

He was wordless when he entered the van and claimed the very back seats for the two of you.

There weren't a lot of you in the van the Beach's scouts managed to get their hands on. There were only five people if you counted both you and Chishiya: the driver who sat with thinly lined lips and wrinkles highlighting his frown; two women who huddled up in the seats in front of you, wrapped in each other's arms with scared eyes; Chishiya who leaned his chin on his fist and looked silently out of the window; and you.

To your surprise, the ride towards the site of the rising white light was a silent and pleasant one. Other than the hushed murmur of the two women, everyone seemed to mind their own business. The driver was diligently following the red line on the paper map, and Chishiya spared a few quiet glances at you. It was a comfortable atmosphere.

At least for however long it lasted.

You knew that it was going too well when you left the confines of the van, Chishiya aiding your dismount with a tentative hand that slipped back into the safety of its pocket the second you let go.

You followed him and the rest of the group up and into the bright building, seemingly a shorter office block, holding onto Chishiya by the fabric of his jumper. Step after step you made your way following the “Game” signs until you reached the table adorned with a variety of phones. Before you could grab one, you spared a glance at your surroundings.

There were too many people.

You tried to remain focussed as dark and cold eyes stared at you and your group. The two women quickly diffused into the corner and the driver stood with a hulking figure adjacent to the entrance. Noticing their actions only brought your attention ever so closer to the crowd of people. There were men in suits and women in matching garments. A high-schooler stood by the distant wall, seemingly staring you down as one finger coiled around the pink strands in her hair.

You felt like the world slowed around you. There were maybe twelve - no… thirteen strangers there that mixed with your group’s five. Seventeen people in the confines of one empty room.

You didn't know how it was possible. Other than the Beach, people didn’t tend to crowd together. Of course you didn’t doubt the luck in some cases. You’ve seen a lot of people participate in these games before; you've seen plenty of people walk towards different lights. Added up there realistically had to be this many people stuck within the Borderlands.

Another person entered, and you struggled to breathe. Eighteen.

There were eighteen people in one room. There were seventeen sets of eyes staring you down. Studying you. Judging you.

It didn’t matter if that was actually the case, but it felt like their eyes were digging into your skin. The space was suffocating. The walls felt like they were shrinking and spinning and warping and you couldn’t help but wrap your arms around yourself. Your body shook and your blood ran cold. It felt as if a large stone lodged itself in the base of your throat.

Your ears were ringing and your mind felt numb.

There were seventeen other people in one room.

You could hear their voices singing in your head:

‘Have you seen what she’s wearing?’

‘Look at how small she looks right now.’

‘Is she scared? Pathetic.’

‘Ha! Look at her hands. She's trembling.’

‘She-‘

Chishiya’s body gently pressed into you, his upper arm bumping against yours. The motion acted as a means of grounding that caused you to swallow down the terror as you were brought back to reality.

The room was still and none of the people were even remotely looking at you. Most were chatting amongst each other. The rest were looking down. Other than Chishiya’s, there was not a single pair of eyes looking you down.

You tried your best to breathe steadily as you noticed the room was bigger than you previously thought. The walls were no longer a predatory trap. You were safe enough, and you inhaled a shaky breath, almost missing the shuffle of fabric next to you.

What you didn’t miss was Chishiya’s outstretched hand in the corner of your eye, presenting you with one side of his Sony earphones.

Gingerly, you took it from his hand and looked at it before your eyes glanced up at the blonde's face. There was a quirk to his lips, but it wasn't a mocking one - it never was a mocking one. It was a silent invitation of comfort that acted as a substitute to his eyes that didn't dare to look at you.

He had noticed your panic straight away and he cared enough to intervene.

And you let out a breath, putting in the earbud.

The sound of the music was a pleasant distraction and a temporary remedy to your anxieties. It melted away the weight that was heavy on your chest mere moments ago, and it allowed you to breathe steady.

It was a comfort that you loved from him, and it was a comfort that allowed you to stand there beside him, waiting for the registration to close.

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Oneshot Masterlist

#chishiya x reader #chishiya shuntaro #chishiya imagine #chishiya oneshot #chishiya alice in borderland #chishiya x y/n #chishiya fanfic #chishiya fanfiction #alice in borderland #alice in boderland x reader #chishiya headcanons

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