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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 2 days

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the girl next door 13

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as age gap, manipulation, chronic illness, noncon/dubcon, coercion, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: A new neighbour moves in and upends your already disarrayed life.

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself.

This lewk but silverfox

You sit on the other end of the long sectional as your mother continues to rumble. You’re happy at least that she’s getting rest, more relieved that she isn’t cognizant enough to track your every misstep. You choose a movie you’ve heard of; the synopsis seems okay. You only really watch the old DVDs your mother bought a decade ago.

You lean into the armrest as Steve reappears and puts down a large bowl of popcorn on the low coffee table, along with two bottles of clear soda. The very stuff your mom tried to forbid you. It’s the one thing you can say for him, he doesn’t let her ruin his fun. You wish you could be that strong.

“Let me get the lights,” he goes to shut off the lamp and you blink as the screen blares bright in the sudden dim. “Better.”

He surprises you as he comes back and sits between you and your mom’s snoring form. You press yourself tighter to the arm rest. The couch is pretty big but next to him, it’s cramped. He sighs contentedly and he reaches forward for the bowl of popcorn. He offers you some and not wanting to be impolite, you take a few kernels off the top.

You stare at the television as you nibble. You try to block out the room around you as the opening credits give way to the intro. You flinch as Steve nudges you, offering the bottle of cane soda. You thank him and sip slowly, nursing it as you make sense of the dialogue on screen. You don’t think the movie is very good, you’re almost embarrassed you chose it.

The barely established meet-cute brews to sudden culmination in a bed, shot with flowery music and slow-down shots that stretch out the manufactured intimacy. Steve clears his throat as you shift, pressing your mouth to the bottle to hide your discomfort. You should have checked the rating before you hit play.

Well, you are an adult. These things are normal right. Sex might be a mystery to you but he’s old enough to know a lot more. It’s probably nothing to him. You lean forward to put the half-finished soda on the coaster and sit back, wiping your slightly damp hand on your tee shirt.

As the scene ends, you exhale in relief, squeezing your legs tightly together as you keep them bent beside you. God. This is really boring. You lay your head down on your arm as you lean into the armrest. Your eyes barely cling to the television as the colours blur to fuzzy orbs.

You yawn, the effect of the sun setting in as the windows darken completely. The day of standing outside in the heat, sweeping and mopping, and scrubbing, it all gathers over your eyelids. No wonder your mother was so quick to pass out; she had better reason for it too.

You yawn quietly as you sense the shadow next to your stir. You glance over and see how Steve’s arm extends over the back of the couch. The glow of the television limns his features as he watches intently. You’re slumped down, almost sideways, well away from his thick bicep resting over the back cushion.

You drop your head back down and blink long and hard. The itchiness in your eyes is too much to resist. You sink down into a foggy haze, tinted softly by the hue of the television, the voices droning to low murmurs.

As you drift on the tides of your unconscious, there’s sudden rolls in the water. A wave rolls over you, leaving you dizzy as the world moves around you. You groggily grumble as your eyelids slit and you catch sight of the large screen. You descend back into sleep, nape thrumming with unease but too tired to rouse.

The abrupt change in tone jars you. Your eyes snap open as the credits roll white on black. You snort and rub your cheek, taking in your bearings little by little. You’re on your side, a pillow under your head, your legs slightly bent and lifted. A coolness settles on your stomach and you tug down your rumble shirt as it exposes your midriff.

You babble as you raise your head and peek over with a flutter of lashes.

A soothing sensation runs up and down your pajama pants. You see Steve’s silhouette cast against the greater darkness. His hands move up and down your legs, rubbing and kneading your thighs, fingertips edging along the crease between them. You whimper and straighten your legs stiffly, turning to drag yourself up.

His touch falls away almost immediately. He seems to jerk awake himself and shakes his head. He sniffs and rubs his cheek.

You bend your legs to your chest and gape at him. What was he doing?

“Movie’s over,” he proclaims, his voice gritty, unlike you’ve heard before, “you were sleeping so sound... didn’t wanna wake you.”

You look at your knees and hug them. You’re not crazy. He was touching you, but maybe it was innocent. Maybe that’s just how he is. Touchy-feely. Your mom’s not the type so you’re just not used to it.

He sits forward and grabs the remote. He turns of the TV, sending you into bleak blackness. You sift through the shadows until you can make out the undefined shapes of furniture around you. Steve stands, the couch shifting with his weight, and a light blooms from his grasp. He shines his phone around, first at you, then your mother.

“Better get her to bed. She’ll be sore,” he nears and holds out his phone, directing the light away from you, “wanna get this? Lead the way?”

You take it and nod, standing with effort as your muscles rack across your back, though your legs feel noodle-ish. You aim the light towards the doorway as Steve bends over your mother and lifts her up with a grunt. He pauses and turns back, waiting for you to go ahead of him.

“Upstairs,” he directs you in a grizzly whisper.

You obey, going forward as you hold the phone high, making certain to illuminate the way ahead clearly. You turn up the stairs and when you get to the stop, you pause again. Steve lingers behind you.

“Down towards the studio and across the hall from that,” he says.

You go forward as he tells you and stop out the bedroom, shining the light inside but not breaking the threshold. He pauses, as if waiting for you to enter, then passes you and uses his elbow to hit the light switch. You lower the phone and watch him lay your mother down on the large bed.

You don’t know what to do as you stand awkwardly in the hall. You watch his muscular back as he props your mother’s head on a pillow and covers her up. She’s still snoring, louder than you’ve ever heard. You're surprised she hasn’t woken up.

“I could take the couch,” you offer. “Or go home.”

“And sleep in that house all alone,” he faces you, crossing the room. He reaches for you and you shy away. You look down as he grasps at your hand and you give him the phone.

“Sorry,” you mutter.

“Thanks,” he taps the screen and the light shuts off. “I can’t let you take the couch. I got a guest bed.” He points you to the room beside his studio, “just in there.”

You retreat and stop by the closed door, waiting for him to open it. He twists the knob and pushes inside. He goes in ahead of you as he reveals the interior, flipping another switch to spark the overhead light. You peek around him as he enters.

The room is gorgeous. It reminds you of one of those you saw in your mom’s home magazines. It’s a bit girlier than you would expect of its owner but it’s pretty. The white quilt on the bed is white, speckled in bunches of purple petals, and the four posts drape with sheer lilac coloured canopy. The white night tables have an antique style to their feet and handles, and a matching vanity stands against the wall. The velvet stool before it has a back that resembles a clamshell.

“I ordered the bedding online but they sent the wrong pattern,” he approaches the bed and touches his forehead, “but it doesn’t really matter, I guess.”

“It’s nice,” you rub your arm as you inch inside. “Thanks, er, it’s fine.”

The bed is much bigger than your twin. It’s too much space just for you. The room itself must be double your own.

“Yeah, no problem, let me know if you need anything,” he backs away from the bed.

“Thanks,” you mumble again, biting your thumb.

“Did you enjoy the movie?” He asks as he hovers close to the door.

“Er,” you shrug.

“Yeah, kinda cheesy,” he chuckles. “But I can’t complain for good company.”

You stare at the bed. You’re tired. Your scratch your eye and try not to yawn.

“Go on, tuck in, I’ll get the light.”

He stands by the door, waiting and watching.

You lift the corner of the covers and carefully slip in, staying on the edge. As you lay back, the light flicks off.

“Night, sweetie,” he says before he pulls the door shut.

The door doesn’t catch and as he walks away, you hear the creak as it opens just an inch. You pull the blankets snug around you and turn onto your side. You just want to sleep so the morning comes sooner.

#steve rogers #dark steve rogers #dark!steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #drabble #au #silverfox au #the girl next door #captain america #mcu #marvel #series

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bleedingichorhearts · 2 days

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𝕮𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖙𝖔𝖗 XVII

𝕬𝖚𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖗: This is the ending chapter of this story. I hope I made this an enjoyable read for those who were willing to read this confusing yet… silly creation I have made with my brain cells. It has been fun to write and to see people love my characters. I thank you for your encouragement to write more and improve my skills.

𝕿𝖆𝖌𝖌𝖊𝖉: @kit-williams, @egrets-not-regrets, @bispecsual, @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan, @sleepyfan-blog.

TW // Angst, Death, Violence, Body Horror.

Screeching upon metal wakes up my foggy filled brain. A groan leaving my lips as I move slowly around on the makeshift bed. Filling too weak still to actually make any bigger moves myself. The ache on my neck throbbing painfully like I was infected with a sickness or something similar.

Dragging my hand up through the fabric of the makeshift bed, I carefully placed my hand on my aching neck. Feeling a burning bump there, a sealed wound. What the hell did Dacre do to me? Did Dark Angels have some weird poison in their fangs?

With a low whine, I slowly shuffled on the bed. My muscles burning the moment I sat myself up on the bed. An exhausted huff leaving me at the effort to keep myself steady on top of the bed. My brain, far too woozy to do anything bigger than just trying to right myself on the bed.

Lightly rubbing my forehead with my fingers. Touching my skin felt like fire, like I was boiling my brain from the inside. My forehead burning up, my body shaking like I have a severe case of the flu. It felt like I was leaning left and right to keep myself steady.

A quiet chuff has me quickly looking around me dizzily. My body occasionally failing on me as I try to keep myself up right on the bed. My dizzy eyes looking all around the dark corners of the room for the rumbling sound. Hoping that it wasn’t Dacre returning from whatever he does when he is gone. I didn’t want to encounter him after his… bite.

A glint of silver shines in the dark for a split second. My eyes trying to focus on this appearance. Was this Dacre? Hiding in the shadows, just watching me? No, his armor didn’t have any silver in it. Was this some object I didn’t know of before in this room then?

The object glints again before coming forward, another chuff coming out from the armor, my eyes widening in the realization of the armor color and insignia of the Gray Knight.

The same Gray Knight that killed Clyde, cut him right in half.

I shuffle back on the makeshift bed when the Knight takes another step forward, a low whine-like sound coming from him. His bright blue visor never moving away from my panicking figure. His steps unnaturally quiet for someone so bulked up in heavy looking armor. Yet I notice his steps to be more slower from the first time I saw him, like he was trying to show he wasn’t a threat.

That had to be a trick. No Gray Knight were ever to be so… “kind.” This one only wanted to get my guard down so he can quite literally stab me in the back. To feel me struggle in his arms—

A hiss of his helmet disconnecting from his armor disrupts my thoughts. His hands lifting up the helmet from his head, a strong and chiseled jawline appearing before his pure white eyes glowed from behind his helmet, staring back at me. Long, untouched, white hair falling out from his helmet, making it look staticky.

Just like Salems.

“Where is Salem?” I couldn't help but immediately ask the Knight, looking away from his enticing eyes and at a random wall. His presence commanding: authoritative. This was a trick, this was a trick, this was a trick—

“Our son? He is with the Alpha Legionnaires, little maiden.” The Knight spoke, his voice deep, dominate sounding. His gauntlet placing his helmet on the edge of the makeshift bed.

“Our son?” I question, my eyebrows scrunching together in confusion, looking back up at him. How in the hell could I have a child with him? He was way bigger than me!

“Throne, what did they do to you?” He questions back, gently taking my jawline in the palm of his gauntlet. His form leaning down a bit to my level. My heart beating quickly at his sudden closeness.

“What do you mean?” I respond quietly.

“They took you from me. They took you from us.” The Knight growls lowly, his eyes roaming over my face, almost like he was calculating me. “Four years, I never stopped looking for you.”

Four years? I don’t remember anything then. Is this what they were hiding from me? That I was somehow connected to a Gray Knight out of all the Astartes possible? Apparently Alpha Legionnaires as well?

“They kept moving you away from me.” He reveals, his hand lightly thumbing at my cheek, making my bottom lip bounce every time he traced over it. His eyes tracing over every detail he could. “From my son.”

“I could sense our son’s birth and your demise then.” He continues, his hand gently moving down to my stomach making me shiver as he wraps his gauntlet around it and thumbs at it. His lips very close to my own. “It- it pained me when I couldn’t feel you anymore. I lashed out at one of the Legionnaires in response, just nicking their armor.”

“Throne, I wanted to do so much more.” He hisses through his teeth. “Yet, I knew they were yours just as you are mine. You would never forgive me if I did.”

“…Throne, I miss you.” He suddenly admits with a barely audible whine, placing his lips on mine, a little confused sound escaping me as my chest constricts at his words. His lips kissing down my face, his nose nuzzling into my skin as he inhales. “I miss you so much.”

I whine quietly when he tips my head gently back, attacking my neck with ever growing impatience. Leaving not an inch of exposed skin untouched. Then, he suddenly stops and growls. His tongue swirling in his mouth before he laps it over the bite wound skin on my neck as I wince in his hold. Feeling the ungrateful stinging of the wound as the Knight coated it in his saliva. Purring when he seemed satisfied with his work.

I wanted to whine out his name after such a declaration, but I didn’t know his name. It’s like I have it on the tip of my tongue, but nothing ever pops into mind. My mind going blank with any outcomes.

Though, I remember his name, just… from where?

The Knight quickly lifts his head up and growls at a dark corner of the room. His sound echoing through the room before the knight is body slammed. Armor sparking off armor as the two Astartes snarl and fight one another. Growling things in their gothic I never truly understood.

I sat there on the bed for a moment; stunned at the sudden brawl. Never have seen such a thing happen before. Gauntlets sparking at armor, sounding like they were shattering bones. Inhuman sounds coming from their throats while they both try and get the higher advantage. Their hits growing ever harsher the more they circle one another.

In an attempt to get away from the growing aggression. I slipped out of the bed despite my protesting muscles. The Dark Angel bite having a lot more effect to it than what I had thought it did. I had nearly fell over my own to legs, shaking with each step, my eyes getting dizzy.

I yelped when I felt a hand take me by the hair and shoved me into the ground. My hands reacting quickly to save myself a broken nose on the concrete before my hair was gripped at again, pulling my head back up to meet the unreadable white gaze of the Gray Knight.

“Such a sweet little thing.” Dacre purred; English I didn’t know he had spilling from behind his helmet. My hands struggling with his tightening gauntlet in my hair.

“Dark Angel.” The Knight warns, shifting in his place.

“She tasted sweet too.” Dacre continues, rumbling at the memory. “Had me fuck her while you were unavailable for four years! I thought Gray Knights were better than that?”

“…This ancient Terra is... different to navigate.” He growls lowly, his eyes flickering from me to Dacre.

“Is that so?” Dacre taunts, gripping my hair back as I clench my teeth at the burning pain of it being pulled. “Well, if you were ever more late, I would have fucked her again myself. Provided her with another son; another bond, since you killed my other one.”

I whine at the pain of his grip on my hair and the admission of his unholy plan he wanted to do with me. How could he do such a thing to me? I known him to be kind and gentle, not this… psycho! Perhaps it was all a ruse from him?

“Let her go and I might spare your own life, Dark Angel.” The Knight threatens, his gauntlet twitching. His aura turning cold around him. I would have shrunk away from him if I was able to.

“You killed my bonded! What makes you think I’ll keep yours alive?” Dacre snarls, tugging at my hair. Staining my neck as I cry out. Fuck, do I want to cry right now.

“…You can always get another.” The knight counters.

“Oh, but it isn’t the same.” Dacre huffs. “Perhaps you can find another?”

I choke while an sicking crack fills my ears. My body feeling weirdly weightless. Void of any nerve to feel as I watched myself drop to the ground. Unable to feel the pain of feeling the concrete underneath me. It didn’t feel cold or warm, just… nothing but ringing roars and Salem calling out my name.

“Mother!” I could hear him yell. “Mother! Mother!”

Oh, he sounds happy, giggling in delight. Such a little cheery child of mine. Always running around with a smile on his face. Always there to help me out. Oh, my sweet little one.

Salem is there, crying on his mother shoulder begging his mother to awaken. Please be awake. You’re not really dead, are you? You’re just playing right? You’re just playing! But not matter how many times he begs; she never wakes up.

Not matter how many times Solor had sliced away at the Dark Angel. No matter how many times Solor had flattened the Dark Angels armor beneath him with his gauntlets. The body blood and body matter splatting against his armor as he roars out in anguish.

The only ones that were keeping it together were the Alpha Legionnaires. Asclepius carefully going to work to pull their son away from their little serpent. His own heart weeping at the sight of their unmoving serpent as Salem snuggles into his armor. His breath stuttering while Asclepius himself tries to purr out to their little son. Watching as Hydra gently picks up the limp body of their little serpent in his arms. Hydra’s helmet giving her a little nudge on her cheek and a saddened coo he has never heard from his brother.

Leviathan was tasked to pull Solor out of his rage for just a moment, being the bigger and stronger one out of the other two. He successfully gets Solor to behave he mentions their son as Leviathan suggests cleaning himself off first before reuniting with their son. Not wanting to terrorize their little one any further.

Once remotely in a better position, a few days pass as the four of them take turns properly raising their little son while they try to find somewhere, someone to resurrect their little serpent. Their hearts still clenching, weeping at the death of their little serpent, their little maiden. Yet, they find nothing so far.

So, in the meantime they place her body into a coffin, crafted beautifully by a Blood Angel. Silky flowers lining inside of her coffin. Handpicked by their son and them. Ranging between rose's, camellias, blue iris's, daffodil's, gladiolus, and hyacinths. All perfectly surrounding her body like she was laying in a field of flowers herself.

They let her body rest in that coffin, occasionally revisiting while they search for someone to resurrect their little maiden as Salem is taught the ways of the Gray Knights, being far too similar of being one besides his eyes being off his mother. His height way bigger than an average human. His strength and durability different as well as they hunt down every last remaining human and Astartes associated with her death.

They will have their little bonded and mother once more.

ℙ𝕣𝕖𝕧𝕚𝕠𝕦𝕤 ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣: 𝕮𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖙𝖔𝖗 XVI

ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕃𝕚𝕤𝕥: “𝕮𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖙𝖔𝖗” 𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝕷𝖎𝖘𝖙

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journey-to-the-attic · 8 months

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for the anon and @aomiaocao who requested it, and anyone else who might want them - transparent gifs of the gang rolling!

procreate's done something weird with some of the dust clouds but idk how to fix it so... hopefully it's not too much of an issue ^^;

original animation here

#art #animation #obey me #staring at this for too long makes me kind of dizzy #i can't get them to sync up but i wish i could... imagine how satisfying it would look #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #jtta ik #jtta mephisto #it was also while cleaning these up that i realised mammon's keychain is on the wrong side DAMMIT #well nothing is ever perfect #i'm also realising that there are size discrepancies and stuff but WHATEVER #now you can send them rolling wherever you want!

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mcflymemes · 6 months

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"OOPS... I HAVE A CRUSH ON YOU" PROMPTS * assorted dialogue, adjust as necessary

maybe i've developed feelings.

did you just expect me to keep my distance?

i'm afraid you'll break my heart.

i've had feelings for you all this time.

consider it a crush. just a crush.

i've been meaning to tell you the truth about my feelings.

i can't really help how i feel, now can i?

have you noticed the way i stare at you?

i can't keep lying to myself about my feelings.

it's all right if you don't feel the same.

it's difficult to be around you and not feel this way.

you make it easy to catch feelings.

you showed me kindness when no one else would.

how long have you felt this way about me?

i'm not very good at concealing a crush.

would you consider it a crush, or would you consider it... more?

i knew you had feelings for me.

why did you lie about how you felt?

you make me dizzy just by looking at me.

i can't keep myself together when you're near me.

i didn't think you'd ever feel the same way about me.

it's only a crush. it's harmless. it'll go away.

we're not supposed to feel this way.

from the moment we met, i knew.

you're rather cute, you know.

i can't exactly control my heart!

this isn't some thing i can just turn on and off at whim!

these are feelings! real feelings!

do you feel the same or not?

do i even have a chance with you?

could you ever see me as more than a friend?

do you feel anything when you look at me?

i've had a crush on you ever since i can remember.

i'm not blushing!

that was really sweet of you.

no wonder everyone gets so flustered around you.

i don't blame them for staring. i mean, look at you!

you're a very beautiful person.

anyone would be lucky to have you in their life.

was that kiss too much?

maybe i never should have told you how i feel.

forget i said anything to you at all.

you're not like the others. you're special.

you just made my heart skip a beat.

am i blushing?

you have a tendency to make things more difficult... yet more fun.

i'm at quite a loss for words.

you really don't know your effect on people, do you?

i think of you very fondly.

if it were possible, yes. i'd be with you.

if only we could make this work between us.

i'm afraid to feel more than just an innocent crush.

who told you i had a crush?

you're still trying to make me blush.

i'm really infatuated with you.

#romantic prompts #rp prompt #rp meme #rp memes #roleplay memes #roleplay prompt #rp starters #ask meme #roleplay meme #ask memes #roleplay inbox prompts #rp inbox meme #inbox prompt #inbox meme #sentence starter prompt #sentence starter #sentence starters #mcflymemes #been a LITTLE WHILE SINCE I MADE A FREEHAND SORT OF PROMPT LIST......

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mitsies · 7 months

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❊ shootin' hoops! - childe . . ajax can't get enough of you. meanwhile, you've definetely had it with him.

ajax is 19 when he falls in love with you.

he meets you in his second year of college, in a stupid, annoying, lame sociology class which he's only in because it's a requirement to his major. why else would he be in a dank room at 8 in the morning? oh, he hates it. the class is slow-paced. his professor is even slower. an old, little man. ajax bets that he could bench his weight. and maybe a little more than that, too, without breaking a sweat.

the class sucks, and it's not even hard, and he would probably skip every single one and pass with a hundred and ten percent. and he really, really considers this course of action, too. until, he sees you in the back of the classroom. he doesn't think he's seen you before. he'd remember if he did.

wow, you look pretty. wow, you're cool. and wow, maybe he'll stick around for the lecture tomorrow after all. ajax grins to himself. and maybe he'll bench his professor, too, if you'd think that was cool. would that make him look strong, and show off his muscles? then he might really try.

after the class lets out (which takes light years, he's convinced) he makes a beeline to where you're packing up your notebook and stationary. "lame class, huh?"

you turn at his words, eyes wide as you take him in. ajax smiles with his teeth, and he can imagine all the girls and guys in the class swooning, he can practically hear their thoughts; 'oh, who's that cute guy? his dimples are so adorable! oh, wow, i should ask his number. he looks like he would be the star player of our college's basketball team! so muscular, and cool!'

and if they're all thinking that, oh, he can't even conceptualise what you must be thinking. he feels butterflies, and a little dizzy, and a lot anxious— but in a cool way, of course— when you open your mouth to respond.

"i thought it was cool, actually."

he's breathless for a second because wow, woah, oh god, your voice is just as nice— no, it's better, than he'd imagined it. and then he registers what you'd just said and it takes everything in him to stay composed as his brain short-circuits looking for something to say in response. so-long to his ingenious plan of bonding over mutual hatred of your professor. hm. he's kind of backed himself in a corner. oh, well, it seems like he'll have to rely on his massive charm to get him through to you. not a problem!

"really? you've got awful taste."

your face sours. his heart thunders— oh, you're so, so cute. he likes it when you look at him like that. actually, he likes it when you look at him in general. he likes the way your eyes crinkle at the corners when you're irritated. the way you look like you've tasted something bitter makes him think— would your lips taste sour, too? like lemons, and limes? like biting into a cardamom pod?

before he can think about it too much, you speak again, and he's entranced— again. "just my thoughts."

"well clearly, you don't think much."

you blink at him. your eyelashes frame your eyes so nicely, too. he wonders if there's a colour that encapsulates the shade of them. ajax thinks that your eyes are like the rest of you— indescribable. and then you scoff, and walk away with your bag slung over a shoulder, and he can't wait to see you tomorrow.

three weeks go by. ajax doesn't think he could be more in love.

he's showed up to sociology every single day, just for the sake of seeing you. lighting up like a match the second you show up in the doorframe, and going out in a similar fashion once you're gone. he relishes every single second in your company. he carves every half-smile and every grimace, and every time you purse your lips in confusion and every time you nod along to the professor when you understand. oh, he's in love. and it's bad. it's so bad.

"don't tell me you're actually doing the extra credit work," he says, staring at open laptop on your desk. it's work time, and while ajax could hypothetically leave, you're staying, so he's staying too.

you glance up at him. lord knows how you've put up with him for so long. he's annoying, he's bothersome, he does not leave you alone, not for a second. the only time he sees you is sociology so he's got to make the most of it. "i've got nothing better to do, ajax."

oh, he loves, loves, loves it when he says your name. it might be his favourite sound in the world. "you could leave. it's a free class."

you raise a brow— "you could leave too."

"i could. but what'd you do without me?"

you laugh the littlest bit, and he feels a dozen times lighter. maybe your laugh is actually his favourite sound, he can't decide. "probably be a lot more productive."

he likes what you have. he likes this friendship-ish kind of thing. he likes that you only hate him sometimes, and that you can stand to be around him other times. that's not to say he's satisfied. oh, not even close. 3 weeks were enough for ajax to imagine it— a lifetime. he imagines holding your hand at graduation. and he imagines movie nights turned sleepovers, and he imagines what colours you'd choose for the bedsheets of your first house together. he imagines lists of names. he imagines forever. but this is a good start. you're 50-50 now, he's just got to work on that hundred percent.

and, in his opinion, 3 weeks is a long, long time. that's 7 whole days of 24 whole hours. and only god knows how many minutes are in those hours. way too many, he thinks. he's smart enough to know that good things take time, but he doesn't think that he can be only your classmate-sometimes-friend for any longer. he wants more. needs it.

you speak before he can reply, "you really have nothing to be working on?"

he probably does. a lot of business homework, something math related undoubtedly. but that wouldn't take him too long. so he opens his mouth to say as much when he remembers— he likely wouldn't have time later tonight. oh, but he's already not been doing his work— would it be embarrassing to start now? would you think he's stupid? he's so cool, and he'd hate if you didn't agree. in any other situation, he'd pop open his notebooks and get to work. but you make him all conscious, and nervous, and hot in the face. and how long has it been since you asked? he should probably respond. you stare expectantly and he feels warm all over, maybe almost as hot as he looks. (you'd agree. right? you would.)

"maybe just a few small things," he grins at you, "but i can squeeze them in before my game tonight."

you hum in response. "i forgot there was one tonight. against our rivals, right?"

his heart warms— you remembered who it was against. you might've forgotten about it in general, but you remembered it. that must be a good sign. oh, he's got this in the bag.

"yeah. at 7."

you smile at him. he thinks he might die right there. "well, good luck. i'm sure you'll do great."

he beams at the compliment, heart thundering like a caged bird between his ribs. compliments always meant more from you. he could probably definitely recall every single one you've ever spoken to him, if he tried. (and probably even if he didn't.)

ajax doesn't miss a beat, this time. "i'd probably do a lot better if you were there cheering me on."

he doesn't miss it. he doesn't miss the way your mouth twists a little bit in surprise, because this was really not what you were expecting. and he definitely, doesn't miss the way your eyes slide over to your hands, and your fingers which are suddenly all too fidgety. he's embarrassed you. his boyish grin grows tenfold. "don't tell me i've got you going shy on me."

you roll your eyes in mock annoyance, and he knows you well enough at this point to know you're trying to hide your bashfulness. "oh, you wish."

"you're right. i do."

you freeze. he doesn't think he could hide his joy at your embarrassment even if he wanted to, even if he tried. it's hard for ajax to pinpoint his favourite one of your feelings— he thinks you're cute all the time. he thinks it's funny when you're disgusted, or annoyed. he thinks you're adorable when you're happy, and especially so when you're sleepy. but he's beginning to suspect that he's especially fond of you when you're flustered like this.

the professor speaks. ajax's mood is instantly a little more sour because god, even the man's voice is slow and boring. the free class was officially dismissed, and students were free to go. under any other circumstances, ajax would be happy about this. but he really does have to go. he wishes you could come with him. he wishes you could come with him everywhere, really.

"are you serious?"

your question catches him off guard. you're looking at him again, with those pretty eyes, and you have a familiar expression on— it's one he recognises as confusion. you're confused. he softens, more than he thought possible. it takes everything in him to resist pressing a kiss to the apple of your cheek, the crease of your furrowed brows, the corner of your lip where an unconscious pout makes itself known. and he realises he might've been unclear with his advances. so he meets your eyes and says, "of course i am. i'm serious about you if you are about me, yeah?"

it's some kind of consent, or acknowledgment. that what you both have can and probably will evolve. you're smart enough to know that he knows, and he's smart enough to know that you know. and you nod softly, and smile like flower petals, and he decides he'll never get over you. he'll never need another.

"i'll see if i can go tonight. but if not, i'll text you."

he thinks he's the happiest person alive. he could kiss you right then, right there, but your wrinkly old dustbag of a professor is still in the room and he won't entertain the geezer. "i'll see you."

he doesn't see you until the final quarter of the game, but you've been there the whole time.

his team is winning, of course, because they have him, but he's been out of it all game. any moment he can, he's scanning the stands with a watchful eye. it's one of the biggest games of the season. he knows he should be laser-focused, but he's not and it's all your fault. there must be hundreds of faces pressed together and he can't seem to find yours. until he does.

you're closer to the ground than he thought you'd be. hiding in plain sight. and when he sees you, he swears he might start floating. there are flowers in his chest, blooming an ache deep inside. something so disgustingly sweet, so addictingly sickening is awoken at the sight of you in his team's colour. he thinks you'd look beautiful in his spare jersey. he smiles, and it's all teeth. a vicious kind of adrenaline fills him as the next play is called to begin. he thinks he'll give it to you after he wins.

and wins he does. with flying colours, really— the other team didn't really stand a chance to begin with, not as soon as he saw you there cheering him on. his teammates flock to him like sheep, piling on him and shouting things he can't really hear over the general public's applause of the home team's victory. and everything is happening; his coach is slapping his back, his teammate is dragging him somewhere, someone's handing him water, people are screaming his name, yelling about his winning shot, and all he hears is his breathing, and all he sees is you, standing with your hands clasped and lips pressed together in a smile. all he sees is you, so you're the first person he runs to.

since you're in the first stand to the bottom, it's easy for him to clear the guard rail and get to your side. someone in the background shouts his name. he doesn't care. the people who were previously next to you are shoved aside— he doesn't care at all. he's right there with you.

"you came," his breath comes raspy, dry. "you came to see me."

you shrug nervously, "i guess i did."

so he kisses you. ajax is 19 when he falls in love, for the first and last time. ajax is 19 when he kisses you, and he's young, and he's stupid, and he will never regret this, not ever, not when you kiss him back almost instantly, pulling him close by his jersey. it feels so right, it feels too real to be true. he's got to be dreaming. any second now, he expects his daft old professor's voice to scold him for falling asleep during a lecture. but the voice never comes, and you really do taste like lemons and spice, and he hears phone cameras clicking and cheering grow tenfold and he doesn't care because he gets to kiss you.

at some point, you break away. your face is red-hot and he can feel the warm blood flooding your cheeks with how close your faces remain. he ikes it when your lips are swollen because of his. he likes it when your eyes are fixed on him. he likes you. he thinks he was doomed to like you from the start.

when the background finally fades back in, he sees his teammates cheering and ooh-ing like stupid junior high boys. you seem a little disoriented, so he laughs and pulls you away from the stands, helping you climb down the safety rail with a hand in yours and another on the small of your back.

ajax hates his sociology class. he hates the lectures, his professor, the subject— but something good came of it. because he really loves you. with your cardamom tongue and smile lines, and the crease of your eyebrows when you're annoyed, and all of it, and more. he loves you the most. more than anything.

flowers chosen: small sunflower & pink camellia . . adoration & longing for you

❊ send a request! ❊ 5k masterlist ❊ event info ❊

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upsidedownwithsteve · 8 months

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Steve Harrington x fem!reader

requested by anon 18+

You were so close. So close.

Your legs were burning, thighs shaking as you did your best to keep your hips moving, an almost frantic up, down, up, down, up, down. Steve was grabbing at your waist, hands roaming and gripping almost too tightly at the fat of your ass and he was making the prettiest sounds underneath you, breathy and gasping, eyes hooded and pink lips parted as he stared.

His cock was nudging up into that spot, over and over as you rode him, the slick sounds of skin on skin filling his bedroom and the dim glow of his bedside lamp made everything the colour of blush, a rosy hue that turned the boy into shades of gold and peach. It was dizzying, to look down at him, it was almost too much.

You whined, hips stuttering, legs aching, desperate to come after being fucked for so long. The air in the room was heavy, smelling like sex and Steve’s cologne, your clothes messy on his floor, the sheets tangled by your feet. Your brows scrunched, mouth falling into a pout and Steve groaned when your eyes turned glassy.

“Whassa’ matter, honey?” Steve sounded gone, that lovesick kind of way he got when you rode him into his mattress, cheeks pink and his hair falling into his eyes, his hands too busy on you to push it back. “What d’you need, huh? Tell me, baby.”

You squirmed, either too far gone or too embarrassed, Steve deduced but he shifted anyway, one strong arm curled around your waist to anchor you to him while he sat up, sitting you in the cradle of his thighs, his cock kicking up as you clenched around him. You groaned, clutching at his shoulders, hands slipping into the mess of his hair and tugging, needy and gasping.

“I know, I know,” the boy murmured gently. His voice was soft, placating. “C’mere, baby, lemme help.”

You were still pouting, rocking your hips as best as you could even whilst Steve had you pinned against his chest but you did as he said and leaned in. You expected a kiss, lips parting, still swollen and glossy from all the other ones he’d given you before but your breath left you in a gasp when Steve used his free hand to curl around your throat.

Your cunt throbbed, clenching around him and making him hiss through a smile as Steve applied a little pressure. Just on the sides of your neck, his big hand spanning wide across the column of your throat and the feeling made you free fall, head emptying, concentration gone. All you could feel was Steve, eyes fluttering shut until the sensation of his cock rocking against the walls of your cunt was the only thing that mattered. You felt him lean in, lips brushing yours, not even a kiss, just the skim of his mouth over your open one, sharing the same breath as he spoke to you.

“There she is, that’s better, huh?” Steve cooed. He nosed at your cheek, nuzzling at you as his fingers pressed down. You squeaked, the slick sound of your pussy getting louder. “Oh, I know it is. S’okay, honey, I know what you need, don’t I?”

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington smut #Steve harrington fanfic #Steve harrington fanfiction #Steve harrington x reader smut #Steve harrington blurb #Steve harrington oneshot #Steve baby blurb

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osachiyo · 2 months

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𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 & 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 — fem!reader, aphrodisiac, masturbation, unprotected sex, begging, insatiable reader, honorifics (sir), dom! dottore • this is for @dazaisslave !! so sorry for getting to it this late, tysm for being patient with me ichika :3 apologies if he's ooc, this is my first time writing for him :) happy reading and i hope you enjoy !! minors dni

DOTTORE never expected to see such an.. interesting spectacle when he walked into his lab. There you were, perched on top of his table — some of the vials of who-knows-what knocked over to the ground. Small whines and moans of his name escaped your glossy lips, while two of your fingers plunged in and out of your drooling cunt in a rapid pace, the small digits seemingly not enough to fulfill your craving.

"and what do we have here..?" the masked man smirked, clearly amused by the alluring view you had to offer. your head snapped up in dottore's direction, clearly shocked to see your lover standing in the doorway.

"don't tell me you're shocked to see me, pet — what do you think you're doing in my lab, hm?" his lips parted to reveal a sinister grin, teeth glinting from the dim lighting of the room. "dottore, i —" you struggled to find the right words. what the hell were you supposed to say? that you sneaked in his lab to see what he was working on, then accidentally knocked over a vial with bright pink substance in it and suddenly started feeling dizzy and hot? like hell he'd buy that.

as if the man could read your mind, he stepped closer to the broken glass on the floor — a sigh leaving his thin lips, "what you knocked over, my darling, was a vial of aphrodisiac," he grumbled with slight annoyance, now looking up at you through his mask. "a very strong kind, to be clear."

oh.

well that explained why you were feeling so.. hot all of a sudden — but that didn't make it much better. the aphrodisiac was strong indeed, so strong that even the doctor himself could feel himself succumb to it, pale face flushing as his breaths get heavier, it didn't help that you looked to damn ravishing too — staring up at him through those pretty tear-soaked lashes, a pout settled on your lips — it made him want to bend you over his table and —

"f-fuck, hold still, pet —" dottore groaned, hips slamming against your plush ass from behind, gloved fingers digging deep into your hips to keep you in place. but how could he blame you? you were practically buzzing with arousal — hearts floating in your eyes as you drooled all over his desk.

"feels — mmh-! s'good," you slurred, a dumb smile finding it's way to your swollen lips when dottore sped up his pace, landing cruel slaps on your ass while you both get closer to your highs.

fuck, the damn aphrodisiac was taking its affect on him too — making his cock extra leaky and sensitive than usual, causing him to go even harder, and groan even louder into your ear. both of your bodies were covered in a sheen of sweat, dottore's hands finding your tits to pull and tweak at your nipples, before landing a mean slap on them, making you cry out in pained pleasure.

"f-faster — sir, please —!" dottore let out a guttural groan at the honorific, speeding his hips up at your request — broken moans leaving the both of you as he did.

"cum f'me, girl," dottore growled against your skin, palm of his gloved hand pushing your back further down into a mean arch — your ass bouncing with each thrust. as if right on cue, you squirted all over his cock, and the harbinger followed not long after — muttering curses in the snezhnayian language whilst spilling his load inside of you.

you two stayed like that, dottore's face buried in your neck — breathing in your sweet smell, pants leaving each other.

"..ain.."

dottore quirked an eyebrow, moving his face away — "come again?"

you looked back at him, eyes glazed over with lust and lashes clumping with dried tears, voice breathless as you let out a pitiful whimper — "again, fuck me again! — fill me up."

#𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖ 𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐒... ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 #genshin impact #genshin #genshin smut #genshin impact smut #genshin x reader #genshin x reader smut #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x reader smut #dottore smut #dottore x reader #dottore x reader smut #dottore #il dottore #il dottore smut #il dottore x reader #il dottore x reader smut

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eddiessluttywaist · 2 months

Text

the boy is mine (eddiessluttywaist's edition)

AGELESS/BLANK/UNDER 18 BLOGS ARE NOT WELCOME TO INTERACT. PLEASE RESPECT MY RULES AND BOUNDARIES.

summary: romantic night at the trailer, based off of this prompt!

pairing: bf!eddie x gf!reader

word count: 1, 944 words

content/warnings: MDNI, fluff, kissing, lots of touchy feels, a lil smutty?

a/n: creds to whoever owns and posted those ^ photos! they’re not mine, i just made the collage! also would like to credit @carolmunson for this prompt and @mrsjellymunson for tagging me! I haven’t written for eddie in so long, and this was a great way to get back into it <3 thank you! hope you enjoy my contribution <3

You basked in the scent of Eddie’s bedding, how he was ingrained into each and every fiber. Every motion, every shift of the sheets, you could smell him. He had foolishly left you to your own devices in his bedroom (which was surprising since the last time he did that, you almost dared touch his Sweetheart) so you indulged.

You curled up in the sprawling mess of blankets and sheets then grabbed the small throw pillow you had embroidered for him and buried your face in it. It was a delicate, pretty, little thing that stood out in his room even with its DnD theme, but he loved it. He loved that you made it, that you put so much effort into it just for him, so he slept with it every night. Unfamiliar with the concept of purely decorative pillows, he didn’t realize most people tucked such things off to the side before getting into bed each night. So, it smelled like cigarettes, convenience store aftershave, and his shampoo. The scent filled you with dizzying affection, only pulling it away from your face to then hug it to your chest as he walked back into his room.

“I ran out of, like, nice cups. This okay?” he asked as he blew into one of the mugs and then used the bottom of his shirt to wipe it down. He was planning on cleaning those cartoon-themed cups properly for some absurdly fancy hot chocolate you had brought back from your family vacation. He was even planning on making another case for not wasting it on him, but, of course, his attention strayed easily when you were in his bed.

When his gaze finally fell on you, a lazy smile quirked up one side of his mouth. The handles of the mugs hung off the curl of his fingers which rested against his hips now as he took in the sight of you. He tilted his head to put it at the same angle as yours, his favorite pillow in your arms. You were an unbelievably endearing sight. The love that filled him was fluttery and overwhelming.

“And who said you could hold my favorite pillow?” He teased, sauntering over to the bed.

“I made it,” you scoffed with a smile.

He hums lazily in response, that crooked grin still hanging around as he shoved at the clutter on his bedside table. He picked up a small notebook, brow furrowed as he observed it only to haphazardly toss it towards his dresser to make more room. It was that or your tub of Betty Crocker, and he knew better.

You stared at his forearms, drinking in the movement of the musculature underneath. The warmth of his bedside lamp made it even better to watch the lines and curves of his tattoos beneath its comforting, golden light. How could something so simple be so beautiful? Your focus then trailed to the perfect structure of his hands as the mugs slid down his fingers. The ceramic cups clinked against the surface of the old table.

“I think as the creator, I have some right to hold it too,” you continued to make your case while he crawled into bed with you, giving you that subtle mischievous look he always got when he was toying with you.

His strong arms wrapped around you to secure you closer to him.

“I worked very hard on it, y’know.”

Eddie let out an “Is that right?” kind of sound, the texture of his jeans scratching against the bedding. He pulled you into him with such a desperate need to squish you as close as possible as if he thought you might be leaving soon. Those brown curls tickled your jaw while he nuzzled the side of your neck, audibly breathing you in.

“And it wasn’t the easiest thing in the world to embroider all that Dungeons and—”

He finally pulled back to cut you off, smushing his face against yours in a way that made you giggle. Eddie’s kisses were always lazy and sloppy this late at night, but you loved them that way. His lips were warm albeit a bit rough from all the anxious biting that he abused them with. A pleased hum left him and vibrated deep in his throat, his large hands encasing the sides of your face and his fingers tangling in your hair. His rings would probably tug a strand or two when he pulled them away, but you couldn’t be bothered to care.

The way your body relaxed reassured him, and he slid his arms down to pull you in again so your stomach could be flat against his own. Then, he let out a small chuckle when he had to separate from you to pluck the throw pillow out from between you. Eddie placed it elsewhere with emphasized tenderness while you stared at those ruddy lips that you missed already.

“Pillow was in the way,” he murmured in a low tone, kissing you back as you pulled him in for a few more pecks.

“And here I was thinking you were starting to love it more than me.”

“Aw, now don’t be like that. You know that’s not true,” Eddie drawled, grinning over that unconvincing little pout you gave him.

He sat back on his legs to move the bedding out of his way, then pulled you forward by your thighs which he readily settled in between. There was nothing he wanted more than to be thoroughly pressed against you. It wasn’t even about sex, at least not always. He just loved the feeling of you being so close to him. The softness of your stomach against his taut abdomen. The plushness of your chest pressed against the flat planes of his own. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t love the way your bodies fit together too, but he’d melt into you if he could.

Eddie was the type to lean into you while you were walking together, ending up so close that his wallet chain would keep bumping against you. He always sought out your hand to hold or your shoulders for him to drape his arm across (which of course always ended up with him folding you into him so your face would press against a Hellfire symbol or band name, and he could settle his chin on the top of your head).

“I don’t think I believe you.”

You crossed your arms, failing to keep up with your façade, especially with that smile and those dimples.

“Well then, my dramatic lil lady,” He spoke with that same theatrical cadence that he used during campaigns, his brow furrowed with determination. You groaned over the incoming mawkishness, rolling your gaze up to the ceiling and smiling to the point that the apples of your cheeks ached.

“I suppose I must convince you.”

His hand settled on the side of your neck, thumb brushing against the center of your throat as he dipped down for another kiss.

“You’re so corny,” you laughed against his lips.

“And you… taste like vanilla,” he sighed, laughing with you after.

“Mm, well, that is the work of Ms. Betty Crocker,” you smiled up at him, gently tapping his nose. “Speaking of…”

Eddie groaned, mentally cursing himself for even bringing it up as you squirmed out from underneath him to grab the container from behind the abandoned mugs. He watched you intently while you sucked a scoop of frosting off your finger. When you met his gaze, he gave you a cheeky grin that he failed to conceal by biting his lip and then wiggled his eyebrows at you.

“You’re a child,” you snorted, reaching out to tap some frosting onto the tip of his nose.

“And you’re devastating,” he countered in a voice so sickeningly saccharine with love that you wiped the frosting right back off. He caught your hand and sucked the sugar from the pad of your thumb before you could fully pull back.

“Who knew the local bad boy could be such a softie,” you teased softly, scooping some more frosting to feed it to him. Eddie playfully bit down just enough to make you laugh.

“I believe you mean ‘the local freak.’”

“Mm, tomato, tomahto,” you shrugged, lapping up some more frosting off your finger. His rich umber eyes seemed to glitter in the dull lighting, his pupils dilating. You looked up at him through your lashes when you felt his stare.

“We’re gonna have a problem if you keep doing that,” Eddie’s voice was rough even as he smiled over you.

“What?” you laughed, full of faux innocence. He just smirked. “No, what?”

“You know what.”

“I have no clue what you’re talking about,” you shrug, going to scoop some more frosting out when he snags the tub from you.

“Wh— hey!”

You already missed his warmth when he sank back onto folded legs, dipping his forefinger into the tub.

“You’re gonna get your rings all sticky,”

You blushed when that made him cackle, but you at least got the comfort of his body again as he hunched over you. His smile was tangible against the side of your neck, his hair tickling you again.

“Not the only thing that—”

“Eddie, shu-u-ush,” you laughed, and he flattened himself on top of you again, leaving tacky, sugary kisses on your neck while you pried the vanilla frosting from his hand. He gave up on keeping it from you, happy to have a free hand again to seek out your waist with.

Holding the container with one hand, you arched your other arm over him to scoop just one more—you swore just one more! —fingertip of frosting, but he was pulling back before you could even dip into it.

“Gimme that—”

“So rude taking things from me today,” you tutted, watching with a pout as he fed himself some of your treat.

“Have to have you all to myself,” he mimicked some toxic-alpha-dude-type bravado, but he couldn’t even get through it without chuckling at the end.

Eddie prodded at the dwindling supply of Betty Crocker’s then tossed the container back onto his bedside table. But you reached out to catch his wrist and brought his index finger to your mouth before he could bring it to his own.

He groaned, leaning onto one elbow while he gawked at you. His full lips parted at the sight of you, his thumb brushing against your cheek as you sucked on his finger. Damn.

“You never play fair.”

“And you like that,” you stated proudly once he slid his finger back out of your mouth.

“Course I do,” he grunted, sliding the pad of his thumb over your lower lip. “May have taken a few attempts to graduate, but I’m not that dumb.”

Your following giggle was breathy and fleeting as you sunk into the tension filling the room. You took in the growing heat in his gaze that tracked his thumb while it hooked your bottom lip. He mimicked opening his own mouth as you did so without even being asked, making him smile and drag his tongue over his lip. He slid his pointer finger down your tongue again, letting it trail down until he was holding your chin between his curled finger and thumb. Keeping your chin down and lips parted, he leaned in. The kiss was firmer—more determined—and desperate. He was putting every ounce of his desire into you, and this time you were the one melting. You felt like you were sinking deeper into that old mattress, and you wrapped your arms around his neck to keep him with you.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie stranger things #stranger things #eddiemunson #eddie munson imagine #stranger things x reader #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson ficlet #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfic #bf!eddie munson #the boy is mine eddie munson #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson smut

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hanjisick · 2 months

Text

yandere!stray kids reaction to … your confession.

warning. this is not how i portray the members of stray kids or how you should either. this is purely for entertainment purposes.

cw. alcohol. implied murder. stalking. kidnapping. manipulation.

bang chan.

it was late at night. he had just taken you out on an ice cream date, and now you both were lingering on the doorstep of your home, trying to make the last few moments last forever.

“i think that i might like you, no, i think this is love, chan.”

his heart raced at the confession, but he didn’t hesitate to reply.

“i love you too, y/n.”

he would go home thinking about this moment, his stomach full of nervous butterflies.

the first thing he would do is clutch the tank top that he had stolen from you in his hands, sniffing the material and thinking back to that beautiful moment.

this was all part of the plan. once you finally loved him, it would be so easy to just take you.

and that’s exactly what he planned to do.

lee know

you would’ve been minho’s girl for long before falling in love with the monster. i mean, how could you love this man? even if he was obsessed with you, to the point of being more than willing to spill blood for you, the thought of loving him was terrifying.

but slowly, through months upon months of losing your mind, it would’ve been while he was cooking dinner for the two of you.

his back was facing you as you sat on top of the counter, swinging your legs back and forth.

something about the way his eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he measured ingredients, or the knife in his hand as he crushed the garlic.

minho caught you staring eventually. “what are you looking at, my love?”

a blush dusted across your cheeks. “you look handsome like this.”

his chopping halted. it would’ve been the first time that you’ve seen him truly flustered since meeting him. “i do?”

“i think i love you.”

changbin

it would be hard to not fall for the only man that you were ever allowed to see.

every day, like a mantra, you were told the same thing: you only need changbin. friends don’t compare to changbin. your family is changbin.

eventually it would’ve been hard to not give into the conditioning.

it was late at night and changbin still wasn’t home. you caught yourself feeling disappointed, looking forward to the one person that you saw in the day.

so when he arrived back home, you couldn’t help but jump up, greeting him at the door.

“i missed you.”

he stood in place for a moment before slowly wrapping his arms around you too. “what’s gotten into you, my darling?”

“why were you out so late?”

“i had to take care of some things,” he pulled away, nervously, “and you missed me?”

“of course i did. i love you.”

a wide smile spread across his face. “you love me? really?”

hyunjin

“i can’t believe he’s gone. i loved him so much, i don’t even know what to do with myself now.”

hyunjin rubbed your back soothingly, rocking you back and forth as you let out deep sobs into his shoulder. “i know you loved your friend, he was very kind to you.”

too kind. but you wouldn’t understand that— which is why he had to eliminate him.

“who’s gonna be there for me now? he always knew what to say and do.”

“i will always be right here. always. i can promise that to you.”

after a moment of sniffles, you pulled away slightly, staring at him with your puffy eyes that broke his heart. “i love you, hyunjin.”

“what do you mean?”

“i think i’m in love with you.” you were hysterical from the loss of your friend, not having slept for over 24 hours, and your head fuzzy from crying all day.

he was going to take advantage of that. “i love you too, y/n.”

jisung

the boy had been stalking you for ages. following you to classes, work, home— he knew everything about you at this point.

his first thought when you walked towards him, before he could even process your confession, was that you were so close to him. you had never been this close. he had only seen you from a distance.

the smell of you made him dizzy. he had sniffed your shampoos before, sure, stolen your underwear, bought your perfumes to spray around his house— but this was a whole new level and—

“hello? excuse me?”

he was brought back into reality as you waved your hands in front of his face, the butterflies replaced themselves with shock once you had asked for his number, admitting your feelings for him.

“a crush? me? you?” he stammered.

“i’ve seen you around and i think that you’re very attractive.”

felix

you were drunk out of your mind, right on his lap, dozing off on his shoulder. he was already losing it.

“felix, i think i have a crush on you.”

“what?” he pulled you up to look him in the eyes.

you giggled. “you’re so handsome. i’m so in love with you.”

he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

perhaps you wouldn’t feel the same if you knew how many times his hands have gotten bloody for you, exactly how far his infatuation with you went.

“i don’t know what you’re thinking, lix. tell me.”

instead of telling you his feelings, he decided to show them.

his hand met the back of your neck, leaning in to meet your lips.

seungmin

“i need to be honest.”

“yes?” your friend turned towards you on the couch, “you can tell me anything, y/n.”

“i think i’m in love with you.”

it was like the world had stopped for him.

no, this wasn’t how it was supposed to go. he was supposed to confess to you once the time was right. he needed to be confident and ready with your favorite flowers and a speech.

“seungmin?”

he couldn’t even respond, his entire face hot from your confession.

“you can tell me if you don’t feel the same way, i hope it doesn’t ruin things between us.”

“no! no!” he stammered out, “i love you too. i’ve loved you forever.”

it took him a moment to gather his thoughts together, “you’re beautiful. i’d love for you to be my girlfriend. i would treat you like a princess, every day of my life.”

now it was your turn to become a mess.

jeongin

it was all an accident.

you meant to send that text to one of your friends.

‘jeongin was so cute today. u should’ve seen him. it took everything in me to not kiss him’

within minutes, he was knocking on your door with the wind knocked out of him.

“you weren’t supposed to see that,” your face was red, not even trying to excuse your actions.

“what about me was cute?”

“your hair. it was messy— and your jacket. i loved it. and fuck— i just love you. i have a crush on you, jeongin, you caught me.”

“i’ll wear that damn jacket every single day for you to say that about me.”

“what?” your eyes widened.

“i love you too, y/n.”

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mrwavellswaps · 2 months

Text

Noticing The Difference

I never should’ve bought that fucking statue.

Two months ago I was, dare I say, an absolute hunk. I’d been working out for years on end. Always pushing my limits at every opportunity I could to grow better and stronger. I had a great diet which I made sure to always stick to and plenty of mates I could hit up the gym with. I was in the best shape of my life. Both looking and feeling bigger than ever with muscles that always managed to get me compliments from other dudes at the gym. Not to mention my genetics doing the absolute most by blessing me with a height of 6’1, a handsome face, a perfect hairline and an incredible beard. Looks that, needless to say, got me into bed with plenty of other hot dudes. Daddies, hunks, twinks. You name it. I’d been with them all.

I had everything going for me. I had a great job at my local gym. I’d been approached by multiple modelling agencies. I’d even amassed a fairly large following across my social media with my comment sections always full of thirsty people who ranged from leaving playful compliments to begging me for an onlyfans. Something I’d honestly begun to consider.

But then the statue happened. I found it at a small antique shop in town. I’m not even sure why I went in there. It was like something was drawing me in. Yet as soon as I was in the door I was greeted by an older man who wasted not time in offering his assistance. He whisked me around the shop, showing me everything he had to offer but I could tell he seemed particularly keen on selling me that one statue. I had no idea why at the time but in the end he won me over. It was fairly cheap and looked nice I supposed so before I knew it the shopkeeper was grinning as he took my money and handed me a receipt.

I found a spot for it at home on one of my bedroom shelves. But it was shortly after this that weird things began to happen. I found myself staring at it constantly. My eyes always drawn to the statue. I’d find myself thinking about it when I was at work. But things only started getting really weird when I began to get erections while looking at it. I had no idea why but my cock couldn’t help stiffening whenever my eyes met that of the statue. It very quickly got worse until soon enough I was standing in the middle of the room unable to break eye contact with the statue while jerking my fat dick. I wanted to stop but I couldn’t. It had some kind of hold over me. It wasn’t long then before I could feel my load rising up and getting ready to erupt until suddenly… I couldn’t move.

Everything around me spun and blurred in a dizzying fashion. When my vision cleared I was no longer staring at the statue, but rather I was staring at my own face! It didn’t make any sense! Somehow I was now looking at my muscular body from the outside as if I were a mere spectator. I had no idea what was going on but I couldn’t help feeling a wave of dread wash over me as my former face grinned maliciously at me. Seconds later however that grin twisted into a look of sheer pleasure as he drained my balls completely, groaning in my voice as he did.

“Fuuuuuuckk! It’s been too long since I’ve busted a nut!” He moaned while wiping some of my cum off his hand. Soon after he went on explain what just happened. Apparently the statue I’d bought was cursed. Every few years it starts to lure in a new victim. Making them want to take it home with them and soon become so entranced by it that they end up jerking off to it. In the process making their minds weak enough that the statue can steal their soul and trap them within itself. The side effect to this however is that the soul of the statue’s previous victim gets to take the newly vacant body in return. “Bro you have no idea how excited I was the second I saw you walking into the shop.”

I couldn’t believe it at first. I didn’t want to! But the reality of the situation was impossible to ignore as I watched this stranger begin to flex my muscles with a stupid smirk on what should’ve been my face. All while I was frozen in place. Unable to move or speak. Only capable of seeing and hearing. Completely powerless to stop this stranger from exploring the body he’d effectively stolen from me. And to make it even worse…

“Fuck. I’m gonna pull so many hot chicks with this body! Their pussies are gonna be dripping for this dick!”

He was straight.

Since then I’ve been unable to do anything but watch from a shelf in my bedroom as this guy took over my life completely. At first he really tried to act as much like me as possible. Shortly after taking my place, he looked through pretty much all my personal belongings much to my unheard protests. Learning every bit of information he could that he hadn’t already figured out in the time he’d been watching me from the statue. He must’ve scrolled through my phone for hours, looking through all my apps and messages. All the while playfully taunting me about it.

And after that he soon started going out. Dressing exactly as I would to meet with family and friends. And as soon as he got home he’d immediately come and tell me everything. Describing to me how hardly any of the people I knew even noticed a difference besides giving him an odd look here and there. It was both infuriating and terrifying at the same time. But I honestly couldn’t blame them. With my body’s muscle memory he already had most of my mannerisms down and could talk almost exactly like I did. And that’s how I thought things were going to stay. This imposter becoming my perfect replacement. That is until about a month in when something began to change…

He came into the bedroom one day and groaned as he threw off one of my now sweaty tank tops after what I can only assume was a jog home after a tough gym session to keep that body in shape. He finally allowed himself to catch his breath while placing his hands on those impressive hips I used to own. As he did his gaze shifted towards me; Initially with a glance before then turning to a smile which wouldn’t have seemed nearly as mocking if he didn’t follow it up with that annoying peace sign.

I rolled my metaphorical eyes at the gesture as he jumped on my bed and pulled out my laptop. Unfortunately I already knew what he was doing as he scrolled through some tabs he had saved while tugging down his shorts and unleashing that thick cock I used to own. I couldn’t help cringing like always as I watched him pull up a video and start jerking off to some girl bouncing her tits. He might’ve copied me in many ways but that definitely wasn’t one of them. It was always so unnerving to see my body and cock get horny over women. I usually just try my best to ignore it and hope he finishes quickly… but today wasn’t one of those days. It felt like hours before he finally tossed his head back and moaned with my voice as he spurted my load everywhere while a chick on the laptop was getting her pussy pounded.

“Ohhh gooddd!” He slurred his words coming off the high of orgasm. “I can’t take it anymore!” I had no idea what he meant at first but in hindsight if I’d known I would’ve wished for anything to stop him.

After cleaning himself up, that imposter trudged over towards me and looked me dead in the eyes. “Look man. I know I’ve been a bit of a dick to you this last month. Taking your body and what not. And I promise it wasn’t personal… not that I’m complaining.” A line he’d said to me many times by now as he flexed one of my biceps yet again. “I’ve tried to keep up this act of being you to be respectful I guess but I just can’t do it anymore bro! I wanna act like me!” I couldn’t help but find that last line somewhat ironic. “No offence dude but I'm not into half the stuff your friends and family expect me to be into and I'm not gay either. And I don’t wanna hide that anymore.” I could already feel my nightmare about this whole situation coming true at this point. “Sorry but I'm doing things my way now. I know you’re probably not gonna like it but I promise I’ll make it up to you bro. As soon as that statue you’re trapped in is ready to do its crazy magic shit again, I’ll make sure you get a sick new body. Maybe then we could hang out sometime as bros. No homo though.” He chuckled. And if that last joke wasn’t warning enough for what was to come, I didn’t know what was.

Immediately I could see the shift in his behaviour. Whenever he spoke he began to sound less like me and more like a douchey straight guy who can’t help saying ‘bro’ every other sentence. Things like the way he carried himself began to change and become more characteristic of the man who’d taken my identity. Next were the clothes as he quickly stopped wearing a lot of the tighter looking clothes I owned and pretty much threw out most of the clothes he considered to be ‘too gay’. Quickly replacing them with new clothes he’d bought which just made my former body look so painfully straight. But I guess that’s what he was aiming for.

But it didn’t stop there. I’d already figured out he was a football guy before now with how I could always hear him shouting and cheering at the TV whenever there was a match on. So it wasn’t long before he’d bought a bunch of football related shit as well to put up around my place. After which he told me all about how my friends thought it was so weird that he was so into football now. I wasn’t surprised considering I’d always said before how much the sport bored me.

Now he’d turned my former self into one of the straightest looking and acting guys on the planet. And this couldn’t have been more apparent as I heard him come home with what sounded like two other dudes he’d made friends with at the gym. Straight gym bros I assumed who I’d probably never spoken to before. I could hear them all getting settled on the couch with beers as they hung out. Doing weird shit like chugging their beer and seeing who could belch the loudest. Eugh. I tried to ignore it but my ears couldn’t help perking up when they started having a conversation about my former self’s sexuality…

“Yeah I dunno guys. I used to think I was gay but recently I’ve been thinking of experimenting you know? I’ve always been curious as to what fucking pussy feels like.” I heard him say. Fuck. Up until now he hadn’t actually had sex with a woman since taking my body despite how much he talked about wanting to do it. I figured at least a part of him still felt bad for stealing my body and he probably figured I’d hate it. So when I heard one of his new bros offering to call up a lady friend of his who apparently had a crush on my imposter. I’d have screamed for him not to take the offer if I could. But there was nothing I could do.

“Call her bro.”

Before I know it I have to bear witness as my own body stumbles into the bedroom with a busty chick wrapped around his waist. As they kissed their way over towards the bed, he looked up at me with a what seemed to be a somewhat guilty look. However that look was quickly wiped away as the chick grabbed his bulge, coaxing a satisfactory grunt out from my former voice. Now I found myself cringing a hundred times harder than I ever did before as she started going on about how she knew I wasn’t really gay and that I just needed the right woman.

What came after seemed like torture to me. Having to watch as my imposter got his dick sucked by a woman I didn’t know. Staring on helplessly as he reached down and grabbed at her tits, causing my old dick to buck with excitement as he squeezed them. And even worse so as he moved on to sliding my cock between her tits and fucking them! It felt so wrong to watch but I couldn’t look away as he eventually stopping fucking her tits only to start eating out her pussy instead! God… seeing my own face between a woman’s legs just looked wrong. And yet he was having the time of his life.

But eventually my worst fear came true as I watched him line my cock up with the entrance to her pussy. I could swear he looked up at me again just for a second to mouth the words ‘sorry bro’ before suddenly plunging inside her. And once he did he was like an animal. A beast even! Slamming my formerly gay cock as deep into her pussy as it would go, causing them both to wail out in pleasure. After that he must’ve pounded her for what seemed like hours to me. Stuffing that big titted bimbo full with my dick as the only sound that could be heard over all the moaning was my balls slapping against her taint. Torture didn’t even sound like a strong enough word at this point.

They switched positions a couple of times before they finally reached the climax. Across which time the chick complimented my former cock multiple times on how perfect it was for her pussy and how it made her cum faster than any other guy could. But eventually my imposter reached his limit. There were a few uneven thrusts before finally he let out a long loud groan just as I always did when I came. Immediately his cock began to spasm as it filled the pussy below him with an enormous load, much to this chick’s desire by the look of it. And he wasn’t even wearing a fucking condom…

A few minutes later I had the displeasure of watching him slowly dislodge from her pussy with a dumb grin. He wiped off his sticky cock and pulled on a pair of baggy shorts as the chick continued to bask in the afterglow of it all. I watched as he headed towards the door where his new bros were waiting for him on the other side.

“How was it man? You still think you’re gay?” One of them asked.

That body snatcher of mine grinned. “Nope. I’m as straight as an arrow bros. Tits and pussy only from now on.” He claimed, having to make it all sound somewhat believable before the other two men wrapped their arms around him in a celebratory manner before grabbing him another beer.

I can already tell these are gonna be a looooong few years before he’s finally able to keep that promise and put me in a new body. At this rate by the time I get out of this curse statue, he’ll have knocked up enough bimbo’s to have his own soccer team. Hopefully he’ll start using a condom before then…

#male body theft #male body swap #magic #curse #gay to straight #identity theft #jock #male hypno #permanent #male possession #muscle theft #male muscle growth

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simpjaes · 28 days

Note

JAKE... SLEEVELESS... IN THE POOL... pls write something i beg u

wc: 952 warnings: public fingering, ex boyfriend jake, he's kind of a dick [he didn't wanna be seen w u previously] [visual stimulation]

Water vs. wet.

You thought they were the same thing. Really, you didn't think anyone would be able to tell the difference while floating around trying not to ogle your ex boyfriend from too long ago.

It's not even that you want to fuck him, it's just that it's...him. Seeing him brings back the memories of all the wild and sleepless nights, hungover mornings, and messy afternoons.

Sure, he's not exactly a green flag, but in the moment he doesn't look so red either. Not with the way his arms flex when he wades around with that stupid snide smile on his face, stealing glances at you just to see if you're looking at him.

The difference between this water and the difference between being wet is that...well. You're wet in more ways than one. Sure, there's cool droplets running down your shoulders, just like the ones dipping and sliding down the lines of Jake's muscles, but there's also the other wet.

You feel it between your legs. Thicker than water, slipping down your folds in these bikini bottoms in an embarrassing reminder of who it is that does this to you, warmer than the water. If anyone were to walk up behind you and cup their hands over your core, they'd know. But no one would do that.

Except, someone definitely would. You stay in the pool as long as Jake does, wading around and pretending you're not dripping. Anyone else in this water would be horrified, surely, but not Jake. Not you.

It was always fun to be messy, dirty, and unashamed of it. Behind closed doors of course.

By the time night begins to take hold and you're still wading around, across the pool from Jake and being caught in the act of staring far too many times in the past hour and half since you've dipped in, he appears to be fed up with gawking.

Fed up with putting on a show. Fed up with pretending he doesn't miss fucking around with you. The pool lights shine from under him as the sun fades, still enough light from above to give him a warm glow. His hair half dry, the ends of his strands dripping, his muscles protruding and smile glistening and wide. You can't just look away, your mind racing in the realization that he's coming up to you. Like so many times before, when it was normal and expected for him to come up to you. It feels familiar when it shouldn't, thrusting you into the mindset of the smart-girl persona you had during that first year of college. Perhaps you haven't grown as much as you thought you had, especially when he's just as bold as he's always been. He touches you before he says anything, wading around you until his chest is to your back and his arms wrap around your waist as if the two of you never broke up in the first place. "You're not very subtle about it." You can hear his smile against your ear when he says it, dropping his head to prop on your shoulder. "You miss me?" You nod to him, all while breathing out a small "no." The feeling of his arms, bigger than before, making you feel the same comfort and intense need to cling to him. "Always were so bad at communicating too." He chuckles against you, pulling you closer against him and intentionally pressing his hips up, lining his length up with your ass. He's wearing shorts, hell, he's wearing a shirt too, goddamn him. But ah, that. That's still the same delicious size. You remember how hard he'd get himself for you, letting you ride him til he's dizzy and drowsy like he had no power to stop you. He was always bold, but never this confident. You remain silent against him, trying to ignore the people all around the pool and wandering in and out of the house. These things are expected at a senior college party, but still, you and Jake never were too crazy out in the open like this. In fact, you and Jake were never even supposed to be seen as an item at all. "Oh, suddenly you're okay with being seen with me?" You bite back at him, your body still betraying you in the way you hold his arms against you like you used to do in bed when he'd cuddle you. "Mhm." He smiles, walking backwards in the water with you in his grasp, up until his back is against the pool wall. "I was still thinking like a high schooler back then, not sure why I ever broke up with you." Ouch, your heart. You'd managed you get over him months ago, still took far too long though. "And you still stare at me like you could punch me in the face." Jake laughs this time, shaking one arm from your grip to trail down, cupping his hand to the seat of your bikini bottoms. "We always fucked instead, remember?" You can only nod at his boastful reminders. All those times where he'd blow you off in the hallways that first year of college. He needed a new image after all, one that you weren't part of. But goddamn, his hands are the only ones that know how to work you, especially when he's gently slipping a finger under your bikini and sliding only slightly. "Always got so wet too, just like this." He laughs almost as if he's mocking you for being so turned on by him. "You still want me?" You shake your head, ultimately trying to pull from him now, but he slips his finger in quickly, moaning against your ear with a tighter grip. "C'mon," He encourages your deep inhale to release in any sort of sound. "I'm letting everyone see now, aren't I?"

#enhypen smut #jake smut #jake sim smut #jaeyun smut #sim jaeyun smut #ask #anon #hardthots

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teyums · 1 year

Note

love realization #10 with “you’re so pretty...” “and you are drunk.” for Neteyam I just know you’ll EAT

stoppp you’re gonna make me blush omg!! i was so excited for someone to request this one eeee 🤭 first commission for the party! wc: 873

Neteyam x fem!na’vi reader

prompt: “you’re so pretty” “and you’re drunk” drunk flirty prompts #4

warnings: none!

Neteyam knew better. Honesty, he did. What kind of idiot challenges Lo’ak, of all people, to a drinking contest?

“Loser does the other’s chores for two weeks.”

“Oh, you’re on baby bro.”

It was lighthearted, at first. Realization quickly setting in that a celebration within the village like this was something that didn’t come around often; a chance for them to kick their feet up with zero worries of responsibility even rarer. And the large bonfire roaring in the middle of the common grounds, embers crackling amidst the steady hum of cheerfully sparked conversations, solidified that fact.

Couples, brothers, sisters, all sat around, enjoying each other’s company while the children had long ran off with their peers, eagerly urged by their parents to wear themselves out for the night with repetitive games of tag.

It was clear this was a time to relax, something that was usually unknown to the eldest sully. But a quick glance over at his parents, giggling and huddled up, served as ample reassurance. And with each swig from the leather bota bag Lo’ak had shoved into his hands just moments prior, he felt himself relaxing more and more.

You’re seated on a fallen log beside the swaying figures of the two sully boys, a little ways in the distance from the lively dancing bodies of fellow na’vi. It’s probably been going on for fifteen minutes now, the repetitive shoving and roughhousing between the brothers as they place their bets higher and higher on who can drink the most of the strong liquid. Your forehead almost aches from the amount of times your palm has smacked it.

Neteyam holds a weary hand up, nodding deeply and laggardly waving the limb in his brother’s direction as he urges himself to continue. “Alright, *hiccup* I… I got this. Just *hiccup* give me a second.” The statement comes out slurred and choppy, his free hand balanced on his knee to keep himself from falling over as he reaches out with the other to take the flask from Lo’ak’s hands— or struggles to, rather.

“Alright, that’s enough.” You quickly chime in at the sight of Neteyam’s dizzied state, leisurely leaning forward to snatch the bottle of fermented fruit from the hands of his challenger. Your movements were far from rushed, but Neteyam couldn’t have caught up with you even if he wanted to. “Congratulations, Lo’ak. You win.”

It’s painfully delayed, Neteyam’s reaction, that is.

“Wait, wait-“

But it’s too late, you’ve already dumped the remains of the liquid out in the bush behind you, and Neteyam tosses his hands up in the air in regards to you waving his white flag before he could even agree to it.

“Fuck yeah!” Lo’ak is quick to shoot up on his feet, a little too quickly, seeing as he stumbles a bit before catching himself. “Have fun scooping ikran shit, big bro.” His words are spoken at a teylu’s pace, a heavy hand lifting to his forehead as he signs a mock salute to his tipsy sibling.

You watch Lo’ak wobble away with a shake of your head, knowing he’s probably off to go challenge yet another victim to a game he’s never lost. A laugh was set to leave your lips, until you heard Neteyam groan and felt his body slump over into your lap.

His unfiltered weight is heavy in your hold, but you let him, nonetheless. He lazily shifts from his side to lay on his back, his head cradled in your open palm as you stare down at him with a quirked brow.

“God, why is everything spinning?” His eyes pinch shut and he drags his hands down his face before they move to rest over the steady rise and fall of his stomach.

“Maybe because you’re an idiot and tried to out drink your brother. Do you not remember how badly you lost to him last time? You couldn’t get out of bed for two days.” You tease.

His lids peel open and they narrow to glare at you for as long as he can keep up the offended act.

But with the way your hair cascades over your shoulders and frames your face, your eyes twinkling with amusement as you look down at him, he can’t pretend for long. His resolve crumbles in seconds, the slightly fuzzy image of you causing a goofy smile to spread along his flushed lips.

Your head tilts quizzically at his sudden change in expression and you go to tuck a strand behind your ear. “What are you smiling at?”

His lashes flutter and he gives you a sluggish shrug of his shoulders, pearly canines peeking through his boyish grin as his fingers reach to twirl a lock of your hair. And when he speaks, his words drag on much longer than they’re supposed to.

“You’re so pretty… Have I ever told you that?”

The sound of a hiccup cutting through his confession has your eyes rolling towards the stars, possibly to distract you from the fact that your face is heating up.

“And you’re drunk. Very, very drunk.” You giggle, gently brushing your fingers over the wispy baby hairs that peek from his hairline.

He hums, though it’s clear he’s not listening with the way his heavy eyelids fall closed in response to your touch. With a turn of his cheek, his head nuzzles against your thighs and closer to you, the soft graze of the tip of his nose below your navel nearly ticklish.

“I want you… want you, to be my girlfriend. Will you be my girlfriend?” He drawls with a smack of his lips.

His arms wind around your waist, letting you know that he’s definitely about to pass out and trap you where you’re sat until he stirs from the drunken coma.

You sigh at that, and your forehead thanks you for showing mercy when you restrain yourself from smacking your palm to it again as you respond to the dozing man in your lap.

“We’ve been mated for two years, Neteyam.”

Likes + Comments + Reblogs are much appreciated 💗

©teyums 2023

#— teyums’ 2k party #neteyam sully #neteyam x reader #neteyam x you #neteyam fanfiction #neteyam fic #neteyam imagine #neteyam oneshot #avatar way of water #avatar twow #avatar 2 #neteyam

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ravenromanova · 5 months

Text

Just one night

Pairings: Natasha x Ex girlfriend reader

Warnings: SMUT SMUT SMUT SMUT!!!!!!! Mommy kink, fingering, oral, thigh riding, squirting, clit play, nipple play. DO NOT READ IF YOURE UNDER 18+!!!!!!!!!!! (Fluff, Smut, Happy ending)

Masterlist - Send me requests!!!

From the moment you walked into the room her emerald eyes were on you. She drank in the way you looked in the black dress that clung to your body in all the right ways. You were obviously oblivious to her staring as you sauntered your way across the event. Luckily for her you both were forced to come to this event tonight since it was for the avengers.

Stark held a fundraiser for the team once a year so the team can get funding and make nice with the government officials. So fortunately for the redheaded assassin you were forced to be in close proximity to her for the evening. She watched as you walked to the bar chatting up one of the senators of new york. You smiled brightly at the older woman who was talking your ear off about god knows what.

Natasha waited a few minutes for the senator to leave before she walked up next you. “A vodka martini please” She said to the bartender causing you to turn your head in her direction.

”Hi darling“ Her smooth voice echoes through your ears. You could tell by the look on her face she had some kind of mischievous plan for the night.

“Hi tasha” You said as you took a sip from your cocktail and raised your brow to her. The sound of your voice instantly brought a smile to her face.

“Did you come here with someone?” She asked a little hesitantly as she sipped her drink.

“Do you really think id subject someone else to this craziness?” You motion to around the room that’s filled with your drunk teammates.

Natasha laughed a little at your statement. “Well i guess that’s true” She shrugged. “But at least we ran into each other”

“I have a very strong feeling that you planned to run into me” You responded with a smirk causing her to let out a breathy chuckle.

“Well i guess thats somewhat true. Maybe i just wanted to see my girl” Nat said taking a long sip from her drink.

“Last time i checked we broke up” Your words made her frown slightly. She recalled the day you two broke up and it made her heart break even more.

“Doesn’t mean you aren’t mine.” The words sent a chill down your spine and you softly smiled at her.

“Ever the charmer tasha. But im assuming you have something up your sleeve?” You asked and the redhead just smiled her devilish smile.

“More so a proposition” She started as she tapped her finger against the bar. “It’s been a while since i’ve uh been with someone. And i know from my many sources that you haven’t either. So my proposal is that for just tonight me and you forget about the reasons we broke up and just be together again.” Her words make you feel a a little dizzy as she speaks.

You take a few moments to process her words before you finally make a decision. “Just one night?” You asked raising your eyebrow at her before sipping your drink and then ordering another one.

“Just one night” She said sticking out her pinky so you know she’s serious. You smiled at her before you wrapped your pinky around hers.

That’s how you ended up here. Splayed out on her mattress in her room at the compound. Your clothes are partially removed as Natasha is leaving red marks on your neck and chest.

“God i’ve missed you” She admits kissing below your ear making you moan a little.

“Ive missed you too” You confess breathlessly as she moves to unclasp your bra. When her eyes land on your exposed chest her mouth instantly waters. Her lips them circle around your nipple and she starts to suck harshly loving the way you moan for her.

Natasha spends an ungodly amount of time playing with your nipples like she’s never played with them before… granted it’s been six months but it felt like a lifetime to her. So she spent extra time tweaking, pinching and sucking on them like she’s done many times before.

“Please mommy… i-i need you” You beg clawing at her smooth pale skin. Natasha chuckles at your lack of patience before she kisses down your stomach and stops and the hem of your panties.

“Oh kotenok how i’ve missed your begging” She says kissing along the hem of your panties before she slides them down your legs. Once she removes them she takes a moment to appreciate your dripping pussy thats on display for her.

“Fuck i’ve missed you” She continues her words of affirmation as she kisses you inner thighs lightly before diving into your core. Her tongue darts out passed her lips and she licks a stripe along your pussy causing you to mewl in response.

Natasha laps at you like woman starved and gets lost in the way you taste. Your hands fly to her hair and you hold onto her with a strong grip feeling the coil in your stomach build.

“Oh fuck yes mommy” You moan out feeling yourself get closer by the second. Natasha takes your moans as her sign to stick two of her thick and long fingers into you.

“OH FUCK!” You scream out as you feel her fingers fill you up. She smirks she sets a medium pace being careful not to hurt you. Her fingers graze the sweet spot inside and you end up on her fingers and tongue.

“God i love the way you taste baby” She praises bringing her fingers to her mouth and licking off your juices with a delighted moan. Natasha wasnt done with you yet though after she licked her fingers she went back to eat your pussy again.

Your back arched off the bed when she wrapped her lips around your clit and started sucking again. “OH MY GOD” You moaned gripping the sheets for support. Natasha just hummed in response getting lost in your sounds and taste. As she was eating you all you could think about was how much you missed her and never wanted this to end.

You two broke up amicably for multiple reasons the main one being the fact that there just wasnt enough communication. And with you two being Avengers the non communication turned into sloppy missions and arguments which led to the end. But in the end you both missed each other more than either of you wanted to admit.

“Cum for me detka” She said harshly sucking on your clit bringing you out of your thoughts. Her words along with a particularly harsh suck you ended up squirting all over the bed.

“O-Oh my god” You whisper breathlessly as you move the hair from your face. Natasha made her way back up to your face and gently cupped your cheek.

“Ive missed you so much” She whispers pulling you in for a passionate kiss. “I lied… I dont want this to be just for one night”

“Me neither” You confessed moving your hands to her waist and positioning her on your thigh. She raised an eyebrow at you before she got the hint and removed her clothes and sat back down in your thigh.

Your hands gripped her hips and you locked eyes with her and pushed her dripping core onto your thigh. She let out a breathy moan at the contact of your cool thigh against her warm core. Her hands went straight to your chest so she could have something to hold onto as she slowly lost her composure.

Natasha could feel her orgasm creep up on her as she grinded against your thigh. And when you tensed up your thigh under her she let go all over your thigh making you smile.

“Ive missed that” You say chuckling a little making her smile. She slowly got off your thigh and you marveled at the sight of her juices on your thigh. Once she laid down on the bed you laid on her chest as you tried to catch your breath.

“I want us to try again” She whispered in your ear as she kissed your head.

“We were already back together from the second you made your proposition” You confessed. Natasha smiled and kissed you again before she grabbed a towel to clean the both of you off. When she returned she cleaned you and then herself off before laying back down next to you.

“Sleep now my love” She whispered in your ear as well as wrapping her arms around you and bringing you closer to her as much as possible.

Soon you booth drifted off into a peaceful sleep. Yes there was still a lot to talk about but as for now you were going to relish in the bliss that is Natasha Romanoff.

~The end~

A/n i know this was kinda rushed but i really wanted to post something for yall so i hope you liked it :)

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gremlingottoosilly · 6 months

Text

Your ride is here (dark!Ghoap x fem!Reader)

CW and tags: Non-con, poly, group sex, size kink, daddy kink, power imbalance, kidnapping, dead dove do not eat, forced orgasms, praise, humiliation I really really adore @ohbo-ohno and @ceilidho for their amazing takes on writing dark fics with Ghoap and fem!Readers Word count: 3794 AO3

You were already way too drunk when you got out of the bar. It was an annoyingly loud party, too many people you never even knew – you thought that it would be nice since it’s a nice bar and not some weird tech music club, but it didn’t really matter in the end. You were still wasted, head spinning around and headache already forming with bile in your throat every time you opened your eyes. Your phone is dead, your brain is barely working, and the only thing you wish to do right now is to curl down in a small ball and cry.

You barely managed to call for an Uber before your phone blinked one last time and turned off – and judging by the fact that the somewhat kinda, big-ish car was the only one in the dim alleyway, you assumed it was your ride. Hopefully, you’ll get home as soon as possible, get a shower, clear your stomach from alcohol slowly brewing into nausea, and fall asleep.

You’re far too drunk to notice that the driver didn’t even ask for your name when you got inside.

— H…hey there. You’re my driver, yea?

You force the words out of your mouth as you slowly duck your head into the car and settle on the backseat before the guy even says anything. He is pretty, somewhat – a weird fucking haircut for sure, but has a roguish charm of a boy you might meet at the nearest gas station shop. You’re way too buzzed to think of him in any romantic way, but he is nice to look at, and you’re staring to the point of being inappropriate.

He smiles, and you feel your cheeks heating up – probably just alcohol working its way up your system. But he looks nice and probably would feel nice in bed, too – he clearly forgot about shaving for a few days, and you almost think about the way it would feel on your face. Or between your legs. Or just right on your…

— Aye, it’s me.

You can see his cheeks getting flushed as he stares back at you. The situation becomes slightly more weird with each passing moment, but he taps on his phone, probably searching for a map. You turn your head to look at the blurry image – not like you have any knowledge of the area, transferring here for your big girl job and trying to make your way in the city that couldn’t care less about you or your feelings.

You press your cheek against the car seat, leaning over to help him.

— It’s on…yeah, um, Maple 37-12. I think I might have typed the address incorrectly on the app.

— Thank ye, lassie.

He quickly turns on the map to head over to your house, and you smile, happy about your management skills even as you’re still drunk as hell. You allow your head to fall on the backseat headrest again, closing your eyes just for a second. It’s a long ride home, and you already regret every decision that made you go to this fucking party.

The driver is chatty.

Really fucking chatty.

— So, where do you work? Ye shouldn’t be up in that hour.

You grumble something in the answer, not wanting to speak too much. Your brain isn’t built for this kind of pressure right now.

— Yer boyfriend goin’ to pick ye up?

You slightly wince at the words, another reminder of how utterly alone you were. Of course, if you had a boyfriend or even some close, responsible friends, you would ask them to help you with a ride home – you never trusted public transport at this hour, and uber is often varies between a last resort and a stranger danger on wheels.

— Don’t have any.

Your brain is far too drunk to even comprehend why you didn’t just lie that a mysterious boyfriend will meet you. Somehow, the expression of the driver – he called himself Johnny with such a beautiful boyish smile that it made your toes curl – made you feel dizzy and light in the head. God, you don’t want to act like a high school sweetheart, but all of those drinks made you feel lonely.

— No way. A wee bonnie like ye shouldnae be alone.

You lick your lips, trying not to sound too miserable. You’re failing.

— I’m focusing on my career.

He actually laughs at that, and you feel even more embarrassed.

— Career? How does that work out for ye?

You just grumble at the answer, not wanting to bury yourself even deeper. Truth be told, it’s not what you expected when moving to a new city – you don’t know anyone, don’t have any friends here, your life has started from a blank point, and there is really nothing for you to do besides trying to connect with some uptight work buddies in a grimy bar.

Driver says something else – just general questions, something about the weather. Silly jokes that make you snort and reconsider your sense of humor – he is really nice for a cab driver, and you kinda want to just listen to him talk over and over again. You kinda just want to close your eyes and sleep, but you suddenly realize that you need to charge your phone in order to check the payment – you don’t think you have enough cash in your purse, and you don’t want to make the driver’s life even more miserable. He must be low on money to work at this hour, and you kinda feel bad enough to leave him a big tip after all of this, especially if you would end up throwing up all over his nice, big car. It's suited for some brutal man from war movies, not an Uber driver.

— Hey, sorry. Can I charge my phone for a bit?

He smiles even more, getting you the required cable – you plug your phone finally, for the first time in the past few minutes, seeing your home screen again. God, this is late hours – you never got home at this time before.

The car takes an unexpected turn, and you swing your head to look at the window – you don’t recognize the area. Of course, the road was dark, and you lived far away, but even with your blurry mind and hazy memories of the street you moved to, you knew this wasn’t right. The driver is nice and all, but you feel like he made a mistake by relying only on Google Maps. You hope he made a genuine mistake, at least.

— Um, sir?

— Aye, lassie?

He looks so innocent it immediately drops you off guard. You lean closer to him, a phone still in your hand – you were trying to refresh the Uber app quite a few times already, but it somehow never showed you the price you were supposed to pay for the trip – and try to sound as chill as possible. No use in making a scene, you both are tired, and he probably wants to get done with you as soon as possible.

— I think you took a wrong turn. My street should be on the right side.

— Didnae think I did.

— What do you mean? My home isn’t…

The app blinks, and you look at it, trying to concentrate on the obscenely bright screen, punishing your eyes for simply having those. You lick your lips, blood running cold.

You stare at the “Your driver will be here in 5 minutes”. With a description of a car that couldn’t be more different than the car you were in.

With the driver, whose name wasn’t even remotely “Johnny”.

***

Soap wasn’t intending to bring a girl home. What he intends is to find a nice chip place near the bar he and Simon used to go to together and then bring something home to eat because, of course, Lt came home before him, and his cooking skills are almost as bad as his jokes. Simon is a mad dog that will probably eat anything provided and isn’t against chewing on his shoes in case of an emergency, but he doesn’t want him to do this off-deployment.

Johnny literally just wanted to buy some grub, get it home warm, and take off drinking beer and watching some mindless shit on the TV. Preferably with Simon by his side because their relationship cannot be defined by any labels, and he as a nice fucking ass.

Well, turns out random drunk girls who slammed into his car just when he got the takeout bag securely on the front seat have nice asses too. And Soap can’t think of the last time he had his dick smothered by a woman’s lips and not his fist or, somehow, Simon’s hand.

You’re pretty, drunk, and kinda dumb – just like he loves them. Silly girl, really, what did you expect when your phone is dead and you have no other means of contacting safety. He saw you approaching the car, not even looking at his plate – you probably wouldn’t remember when he would dump you in the morning. Not that he would, of course, pretty dumb girls like you should be protected, and his job is, well, protection itself – he can drag you to his and Ghost’s apartment like a trophy in his teeth.

He licks his lips, enjoying the expression of fear slowly creeping on your face. You’re so drowsy, so adorable, he can’t help but smile widely when you’re panicking. You try to open the door, but, of course, it’s child-locked. Fitting for someone who behaves like one.

The last time he tried to convince a girl to have a threesome with him and Simon, she preferred to just watch them awkwardly jerk each other off. The last time he tried to convince a guy for a threesome with him and Simon, Johnny spent the whole night in the corner, blue-balled and lonely, as the twink preferred to suck Lt until he’d cum like two times in a row.

Johnny knows that if he wants a chance for something other than a sloppy seconds, he will have to accept a quick car fuck, possible kidnapping, and forging marriage documents for a pretty girl he just locked in his car because why the hell not, why can’t a handsome Scotsman just kidnap a drunk girl who mistook him for an Uber driver.

He stops the car in a more or less secluded area – poor bird, you’re still trying to bump your way out of the door with your shoulder, only risking dislocating it. The car was a fucking tank in disguise, the only thing that could survive Ghost’s driving skills – there is no way you would be able to get it to open without the owner wanting you to. Soap licks his lips, turning to you. Hell bells, you look divine.

Tears in your eyes, panicked expression, hands curling into fists as you’re trying to get out of your personal nightmare, no matter how drunk you are. Poor baby, he really feels bad for you – you’re so sweet, so trusting, there is no way he was the first guy to ever try to harm you like this. Sergeant might like to think of himself as being more or less in touch with normal people, but when he sees a pretty girl in trouble, he wants nothing more but to become her trouble.

He opens the car just for a second from the driver’s seat – he needs to get to you, after all, just looking at you, trapped in the backseat, won’t be enough for the throbbing erection he has in his pants. You try to fight him as he heavily lingers on you, almost crushing you under his weight. Car isn’t nearly big enough for someone like him to comfortably sit in normal position on top of you, so Johnny uses one hand to drag you back, deeper into the seat, and the other hand – to unbuckle his belt, proving to be fucking beautiful with his fingers.

You look so pretty, he can’t help but snap a few pictures for the group chat – dumb idea at first, as he thought, but now he can’t wait for the Captain to see what a pretty catch he has on his arms. The last mission was pretty rough, and they all deserve a pretty thing to cover themselves in fear and tremble under them after they fuck her, one after one. Might even bring you to Captain’s house, show you what a good girl you can be for your daddy if given a chance.

Soap smirks as he drags his hard cock out of his pants. Your eyes are wide in shock – he might not be the biggest of the group, Lt has the crown rightfully and deservingly, but it doesn’t mean that the Scot is small. Thicker than average, leaking pre-cum already – has been since you first got into the car, all cute and disoriented. He had to waste quite a few minutes driving you as far from civilization as possible without alarming your pretty, dazed head about anything – now he can reap his prize. A part of it, anyway.

You cry and squirm, trying to fight him off when he pushes his hand into your hair and tugs angrily – you’re simply too fucking weak to be a reasonable challenge, so Johnny only laughs when he can put your fight with a single press on your windpipe. You cough, struggling again – soon enough, you learn to just stop and allow him to lead. Good girl, can be trained so well – you’d make a good soldier if you weren’t so pretty and so vulnerable.

— Don’t make me break yer nose, lassie. Open up, aye?

He smiles, too warm for the situation – you don’t understand what you did to deserve this, his hand presses your throat in a tight embrace, and you can’t do anything but squirm and try somehow to use your legs to fight – but oh, you’re far too drunk to do this. You whimper, and your head spins and aches with each hiccup, leaving your lips. Such a pathetic sight to see, you could almost feel bile in your throat as he pressed his cock closer to your lips, smearing bitter liquid all over your closed mouth.

— Pl…please, don’t do this, don’t… what do you want? Money? I will give you money, or my phone, or…

He groans, the waiting time for this pretty girl is far too long already. He doesn’t want to hurt you, you’re too soft for this – a thought of slapping your face lingers in his mind, but ruining your pretty cheeks won’t be efficient in this case. Johnny tugs on your hair, hoping it will be enough to set you straight – he doesn’t want you to pass out from pain, after all. Already too merciful with just using your throat and now that tight ass hiding underneath your dress.

Your words are slurred, hazed, your tongue can’t move quite right enough – still too drunk, and lack of fresh air only makes you go dumber by each second. Soap only lets go of you when he is sure you’re far too gone to try and bite him – still, he pushes his two hands in your mouth, opening you wide as you gag and cough.

— Don’t worry yer pretty head ‘bout it. Just take me, and then we’ll go home.

He will ride you home, make you ride him, and make you some really nice breakfast later. He will carefully wipe away the damp makeup from your face – poor girl, you’re crying too much and ruined all of your hard work on this skin – and send some pretty pictures to the group. But, hey, he can snap a couple right now.

With one hand still in your mouth, he awkwardly moves his hips so his cock can point right against your lips – and presses down, making you gag more and more as he slowly but surely pushes his cock inside of your tight, warm mouth. God, this is the heavens – he can’t remember the last time he had such an amazing blowjob from such a cutie. Gaz would fucking love you.

You’re so pretty from this angle, coughing on his cock, tears streaming down your cheeks – Johnny tells you to smile for the camera and snaps a couple of pictures. Group chat was an amazing idea, after all – he can’t wait to share some more cute videos once you’ve settled it. The feeling of your warm mouth on his cock is absolutely divine – you’re tight, probably inexperienced, and he relishes in the fact he might be the biggest cock you ever took in your pretty lips.

You try your hardest to pull away, but he keeps you close, a hand tugs on your hair again, making you cry harder. Soap is so sorry, bonnie, he will make it up to you later – will eat your pretty cunt sloppily, maybe mess with your ass a bit, making sure you’re all wet and open for the members of his team and their members. He snorts at the thought. smiling as you’re still fighting the urge to puke.

— Like this, aye? Don’t fuckin’ try to bite me, I don’t want to prick yer teeth off.

Threat lingers in your panicked mind as he drags his hips back before slamming in your mouth again, his balls slapping your chin with an obscene sound. The drool is leaking down your lips, creating a mess on the car seat – it’s not a problem, really, he will clean it later. Maybe would have to change the fabric of the seating for something less damp if he plans to fuck you in the car more. And oh, aren’t they all planning to do this?

His phone rings when he was least expecting it – skull emoji on the display. No name, no photo – of course. He must have predicted that Lt would like some of the fun beforehand. Well, Soap isn’t the one to hoard every trophy to himself – even if he really wants to be the first with a pretty girl.

He loves his team – and they will love you as much.

He picks up with a smug grin on his face, staring at the screen. His moans become louder, grunts that make your cheeks burn as you just know he is faking it for more theatrics – pressing his phone between his cheek and a shoulder, leaving his friend to listen to his pleasure. Licking his lips as Ghost groans, a familiar sound of an unbuckled belt clanging somewhere in the background. You sob, trying to trash out of his hold again – he only presses you deeper, your nose flattening against his pubic bone.

— Couldn’t fuckin’ wait, Jonny? Simon sounds tired, angry, jealous even – his sergeant smiles wider, slowly removing the phone from under his cheek and going into video call instead – showing your pretty face, all smothered with pre-cum, ruined makeup, and tears. You look so pretty, so perfect, he moves his hips more to remind you to suck on his cock and not just stare at him like a pretty kitten. He loves you like this, of course, but his dick twitches without proper movement, and Johnny was never the one for patience. Only for bombs, maybe.

Well, you’re a freaking bombshell, aren’t ye.

— Sorry, Lt. Dumb thing thought I was her ride.

The other man snorts. They both laugh – a cruel sound, taunting your ears. You whine and cry, feeling the cock in your mouth pulsating. You try to turn away from the camera, but it’s impossible with a hand still pressing down on your head – you can only close your eyes, poor attempt at saving your dignity. God, you feel absolutely trashed. Soap adores that defeated look in your eyes.

— And you aren’t?

— Still a better driver than you, sir. But no, not this time. Can give her a ride, though.

You hate their laughing, hate the way he is gently caressing your head like you’re a threatened animal and not a living, breathing being. He is being soft with you, like he isn’t forcing his way into your mouth – like he isn’t showing your fucked face to his friend. You hate the way your pussy burns, wet from humiliation, and the soft retirement you’re receiving. Bastard isn’t even thinking of your pleasure, and maybe that’s good. You don’t want to like it.

— Goin’ bring her home?

— Aye. Would look bloody adorable on our bed.

They both snort while your blood runs cold. You hoped, you prayed he would let you go after this – traumatized, but mostly alive and well. You have a job, you have a life, and you can’t be fucking “taken home” to some bastard’s bed while he is using you like a sex toy. You try to squeeze your teeth on his dick, maybe do at least something to make him let you go – but Soap strikes your cheek with unknown anger, making you squirm in his grasp. You sob.

— Don’t break her yet, Johnny.

— Sorry. Dumb thing tried to bite me.

— Doesn’t know any better. Gaz had a special muzzle for dumb girls.

— Too tight for my dick.

— Bloody hell, Mactavish. Don’t get too cocky.

— Never intended to, sir.

He pushes his dick deeper into your mouth. Your cheek burns from the slap, you can almost feel the bruise forming – and the bastard just tugs on your hair, filling your throat with sticky, disgusting cum. You drink it all, no use in trying to choke yourself on his seed when you’re already set in his hold.

— How is her mouth?

— Fuckin’ heaven, Lt.

— I noticed. You finished fast, even for you, Johnny.

— I’ll try better next time. Maybe get our dollie off after.

— Selfish, Mactavish.

— We all deserve to be selfish.

Soap has the fucking audacity to wipe your mouth after you finish drinking it all, pushing the remaining cum and drool back on your tongue. He gently patted on your head, then made a small apology for being too rough. Was never his intention.

— Sorry, bonnie. Don’t try to fight again, aye? You’re too tired to answer, and he just cradles your head against his chest. You whimper and cry, pleading senselessly for him to leave you – he only snaps even more photos of your tear-stained face. God, he can’t wait to bring you home. You’ll look heavenly as a fucktoy for the whole team.

— L..let me…

— Naw, lassie. Shut up and let me take you where you belong. You’ll love it, promise.

He kisses your forehead before moving to the front seat again.

You clutch to the seat in silence, bitter taste of his cum still lingering on your tongue.

#cod #cod x reader #call of duty #cod x you #yandere cod #yandere ghost #yandere soap #yandere #ghoap x reader #tw: noncon #tw: dark content

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gogh-with-the-flow · 2 months

Text

Another Kind of Pleasure (Gaz x Ghost)

I caved. Here's Ghost sounding Gaz.

Warnings: sounding (duh), BDSM themes, dom/sub dynamics, sadism/masichism, bondage

---

"Will it hurt?" Kyle asked, a slight tremble in his voice. His chest rose and fell with heavy, steady breaths. His arms were spread out on either side of him tied to the bedposts as he reclined against the headboard, pillows behind his back to add support. Ghost glanced up at him through his mask where he knelt on the bed between Kyle's spread legs.

"That's the whole point, Kyle." He had forgone his skull mask and donned a plain black balaclava with a slit over the mouth. No need to scare the poor boy more than necessary with a death-mask, he was already nervous enough. He slowly pumped Kyle's length, hand and cock both heavily smothered in lube. It wasn't enough stimulation to get Kyle off, just enough to keep him nice and hard for his Lieutenant. "But it'll feel good, too." Ghost's eyes flicked back down to the cock in his hand.

Gaz's dick was as pretty as the rest of him. Dark tan, long, and pleasantly thick; uncut, but when he grew to full hardness, the foreskin pulled itself back to reveal a plump, dark red cockhead. Ghost rubbed his thumb over it, admiring the slit in the center of it, pushing the tip of his lubricated finger just slightly into it, making the man below him grunt. The corner of his lip twitched upward at the sound.

"You trust me, Kyle?" Ghost asked

"Yes, sir," Kyle answered with out even a second of hesitation. He trusted his lieutenant with his very life, of course he trusted him with his pleasure as well. Kyle's eyes dropped to Ghost's cock, then, each man studying the other.

If Gaz was big, then Ghost was huge. Ghost's cock was hard as a rock, but it couldn't stand straight up due to the sheer weight of the thing, instead drooping slightly between hs thighs. The girth alone was enough to make Gaz dizzy, and he was sure the length would reach his stomach once he was inside. The skin of the shaft was mildly darker than the rest of Ghost's pale skin, and the head was a lovely bright pink, almost magenta, partly hidden by the uncut skin. And, best of all, it was pierced. Nine lovely silver rungs of a Jacob's Laddar lined the underside, and at the crown was a Prince Albert hoop.

It was clear that Ghost was no stranger to pain-as-pleasure, but Gaz was still new to the concept of masochism, at least to this degree. He was a fan of nails scratching down his back and deep bite marks on his shoulder, he'd even been slapped a handful of times and was surprised at his own enjoyment.

But when he'd seen his Liutenant's pierced cock in the showers one day, his curiosity peaked. Ghost caught him staring, and the conversation started. Gaz had all sorts of questions, and Ghost had as many answers and more. When Ghost, under his breath, lest anyone else overhear, asked Kyle if he'd like his help with exploring this side of him, Kyle had to hold himself back from cumming in his pants.

The two of them arranged for a weekend together and Ghost met Kyle at his flat with a suitcase full of wonderful toys and instruments. The first day they had started easy, a bit of impact play with paddles and floggers that left Kyle's ass and thighs raw. Now on day two, each time Kyle's hips shifted from Ghost's touches, his tender skin chafed against the sheets below him, and Gaz found that the sensation only excited him more.

"You've done this before, right?" Kyle asked. His voice was low and gravelly, thick with restraint as his breath hitched from Ghost prodding at his cock slit again.

"Yes, several times. On myself and someone else." Ghost looked up at Gaz again and, upon seeing the trepidation on his face, leaned over him and kissed him through the horizontal slit in the mask. "If you don't like it, then we'll stop and try something else. Just say the word. Alright?" Gaz took a deep, quivering breath to steady himself.

"Alright," he answered. And with that, Ghost pulled back and picked up the silver instrument beside him, rubbing his lubricated hand over it, coating it thoroughly in the slippery substance.

The sounding rod was long and narrow, as long as Gaz's cock and then a little more. It was ridged, resembling a string of beads, but it was all one piece, straight and rigid. It was only a few millimeters in diameter and very smooth. Ghost held it up to Gaz's face for him to observe. At the very end was the shape of a skull.

"How fitting," Gaz joked with a shiver, trying to lighten his own mood. Ghost huffed lightly through his nose.

"Are you ready?" Ghost asked, rubbing circles around Gaz's tight cock hole.

Gaz's eyes were fixated on his own dick, and with one last deep, calming breath, he swallowed and said, "Yes, Sir." Ghost moved slowly, positioning the blunt tip of the rod at Gaz's opening, and then pushed. Gaz let out a loud, shuddering moan at the new sensation. It truly was like nothing he'd ever felt. It stung, it burned, it stretched him out, but it was so delicious he knew right away he'd become addicted to this feeling. The soft, squishy flesh of his head popped back up from the tension of the sounding rod as his dick swallowed up the first bead.

Neither Gaz nor Ghost could tear their eyes away from the way each little bead popped into Gaz's cock. About halfway inside him, it became too much for Gaz and he threw his head back, chest heaving with short, sharp breaths.

"Hey," Ghost interrupted gently but firmly, stopping his penetration of Gaz's cock. "Don't hold your breath. Come on, look at me, Kyle." The younger man opened his eyes wide and stared down at him.

"Hurts," was all he could say.

"I know. Just breath through it. Come on." Ghost took a deep breath and Kyle followed. "There you go. Again." They repeated twice more, and on the last exhale, Ghost resumed pushing the rod inside, making Gaz moan loudly, the sound barreling out of his chest. "Almost there, just a couple inches to go."

"It's- it's too- it's too much-"

"You can take it, Kyle. This is the hardest part. You can take it just breathe." And finally, the last couple beads disappeared inside Gaz as he let out a shout. He stared down at his throbbing, twitching dick, the little metal skull bobbing in the center of it.

For a moment they both stared at the rod perfectly inside. Fuck, Kyle could feel it going all the way down to his balls. It was a stretch like no other. The burn made his thighs shake, and he came to the realization that he loved it. He met Ghost's eyes and his lips twitched.

"Fuck," he moaned.

"You like that, Kyle?"

"Fuck... yes sir..." Kyle's throat bobbed as he swallowed hard. Then, Ghost tapped the end of the rod, and the sound Kyle made sounded more like he'd been punched in the gut. The muscles of his arms bulged as he pulled on the restraints. "Lieutenant!" He cried. Ghost only smiled and did it again, then held it in place with one hand as the other started stoking up and down. His thumb pressed against the underside of Kyle's cock, feeling through the skin each bump and divot of the rod inside.

"You feel that, Kyle?" He asked, but Kyle could only moan in response, already out of his mind at the feelings his Lieutenant gave him. Ghost moved his hand tightly, painfully up and down the length, and Kyle writhed and yanked on the ropes around his wrists. But not once did he ever ask to stop.

Ghost started to move the rod in and out of Kyle's cock hole, and was pleased at the tears that began to roll down Kyle's pretty cheeks. His plush lips were parted, his jaw dropped in a mix of pain and mindless pleasure, his misty eyes focused on how Ghost's hands worked the rod in and out, fucking his urethra with it. He did this for some time, until Kyle was just about to cum, and then he pushed the rod all the way in again, and removed his hands completely.

"Please, please, lieutenant, please let me cum, please," Kyle bumbled out, begging, pleading for release.

"Shut the fuck up, Kyle, you'll take what I give you," Ghost said, not quite snapping, but not quite gentle either.

"Yes sir, sorry sir," Kyle quickly responded to his Commanding Officer.

Ghost left Kyle's cock untouched for a moment, letting him stew in the pain and discomfort, and he finally touched his own cock. He had neglected himself the whole night, letting himself hang hard and throbbing in anticipation. Now, though, he stroked himself with his lubed-up hand, adding a few more drops for extra measure. Kyle moaned at the sight and sound of his Lieutenant touching himself.

When he found himself thoroughly lubricated, he reached down to spread Gaz's ass cheeks, grabbing a handful of the plush fat, and then pushing his slippery fingers inside. Gaz moaned loudly at the intrusion, at being penetrated at both ends. Ghost fingered him open quickly, but still left his hole fairly tight. He wanted it to burn when he finally shoved his girth inside the man below him.

Ghost shuffled forward on his knees and brought Kyle's ass onto his lap. He lined the tip of his cock up with Kyle's other hole and made sure to lock eyes with him.

"You ready for this?" He asked him.

"Yes, fuck, yes sir- ruin me, sir!" And then Ghost pushed in. Gaz's eyes rolled back in his head with every pop-pop-pop of Ghosts piercings catching on the rim of his ass. Ghost set a hard rhythm, and the angle had his pierced tip hitting Gaz's prostate each time. The poor man's whole body was shaking in pleasure.

Ghost grabbed hold of Kyle's dick when he noticed the rod rising out of it, and shoved it back in to a scream from Kyle's lips. The man below him babbled nonsense, please for release, for more, to slow down, none of it making any sense. Kyle was completely out of his mind on pleasure.

And then he felt the wave about to crash. He looked up at the Ghost who hammered into him with wild, terrified eyes, and then looked down at his own dick. And when it hit, he could only watch as his cock swelled with the cum trapped inside. His ears rang, he couldn't even hear his own strangled yell. Finally, Ghost pulled the rod out and let Gaz's cum escape. The sticky white fluid erupted from his stretched hole, coating both their abdomens.

Ghost shuddered as his own orgasm approached, watching as Gaz convulsed and then went limp. With a few more rough thrusts, he emptied himself into Gaz's asshole. Both holes were thoroughly abused at the end. Ghost caught his breath as he softened inside Kyle.

"Sergeant, how copy?" He asked from above. Slowly, Kyle opened his pretty brown eyes, and when he answered, his voice sounded thin and exhausted.

"Solid, sir."

"Are you sure about that?" Ghost asked, picking up Kyle's soft dick, making him flinch.

"Very funny, sir," he mumbled.

Finally, Ghost pulled out and got to work untying Gaz from the bed. He had warm, damp towels ready and waiting to wipe them both off while they waited for the tub to fill.

"Need me to carry you, or do you think you can make it?"

"Huh?" Kyle wondered, laying boneless and brainless on the bed. Ghost decided to carry him. He let Gaz lay in the hot bath as he changed the sheets and got him water to drink. He finally removed the mask as he settled into the water behind him.

After they were washed and dried, they lay in the clean bed, Kyle's head resting on Simon's shoulder.

"So..." Kyle said, sleep heavy in his voice, "What do you have planned for tomorrow?"

---

This was very much inspired but @/HotSatans sounding art on Twitter, but I changed the ship from Ghoap to Ghaz to make my own story. I definitely totally did not have a sounding kink already...

@greatstormcat enjoy pookie

#kyle gaz garrick #simon ghost riley #ghaz #gaz x ghost #gaz smut #ghost smut #kyle gaz garrick smut #simon ghost riley smut

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bettysupremacy · 2 years

Text

Who could be a more doting boyfriend?

Eddie Munson x Fem! Reader

Based off this request

Summary: 10 times Eddie Munson showed just how down bad he was.

Warnings: mentions of weed, food is brought up too, very very fluffy, Eddie down bad, sick! Reader for one, reader only in towel at one point, reader eats bacon in one, fem! Reader, tell me if I’ve forgotten any.

3.7k words because I luv u

Saccharine kisses were her favorite. The kind of kisses where he would ghost his lips over her skin, hovering, before planting a long sweet kiss to wherever he deemed most kissable at the moment.

She loved the way it never failed to make her stomach flip. The way it never failed to make her dizzy in the head and weak in the knees.

She loved that when it made her exhale wonky he’d look at her with this lovesick smile, before pressing more kisses around the area. Quicker, but non less full of love.

That’s why now, laying in bed, sick as a dog, she doesn’t have the strength to push him away. Thats why pawing at him uselessly, the only strength she’d managed earlier, had ceased.

“I’m gonna get you sick.” She whines.

They’re laying in her bed, intertwined like these are her last moments, like Eddie needs to get the most out of them.

Like a sad Victorian painting.

“I don’t care, Juliet, this world is a place I cannot live in without you.”

She scoffs, it coming out more like a cough than anything else. He pats her back as she coughs, letting her sit up to cover her mouth, and frowning when she shakes her head at the Gatorade he holds up for her.

“I’ve got the flu, you dolt. I’m not dying.” He pulls her back down, rubbing at the arm she’s wrapped around his stomach.

She didn’t know wether she was cold or hot, but the goosebumps that rose on her arms, from his fingers dancing over her skin, chilled her deliciously.

“He says that though, right?” He asks.

“Romeo?”

“Yeah.”

“I’ve never read the play.”

He ponders this for a moment, tilting his head up, further into the faded grey of his old pillow case.

“What are you think-“

“Shh.”

She gives him an incredulous look, she could be dying for gods sake! Treat her with a little respect-

“O Romeo, Romeo, where..fore art thou Romeo?”

She looks up at him, head not lifting from its position on his chest, but a confused smile is playing on her lips.

“You’ve read it?”

“Well when you take senior year three times..”

“Oh, right.” She tilts her head back down, ear press into the warm skin above his steadily beating heart, as she curls around him.

He stops his fingers dance over her arms, only letting her frown momentarily, before they card their way through her wet hair. They work out small knots and kinks they hadn’t brushed out. He cranes his neck to press a long kiss on the top of her head.

“Did the shower make you feel better?” He murmurs against her hair.

“I don’t know.”

He sighs, knowing her too well to think that she’d admit his suggestion didn’t work. “I’ll go get the tv from the living room and wheel it in here, Kay?”

She nods, nasally voice making him frown. “Mkay.”

He gently removes himself from under her, making sure to pull the blankets back up before completely retracting.

“And the vapor rub. I’ll grab the vapor rub too.” His palms dig into his mattress as he hovers over her.

“God bless.”

He smiles at her, lips coming down to kiss hers affectionally. She kisses back before she realizes what she’s done.

“Do not kiss me, Edward, I know you’re not vaccinated.”

A deep groan leaves his lips as he walks away, into the living room for the TV and vapor rub.

“What is a desperate man to do?”

She can’t help but smile as she tucks herself into his freshly clean, for the first time in 2 years, sheets.

—

She rummages through his drawers, fingers making quick work of the unfolded clothes thrown in them.

“Eddie?” her voice drifts through his bedroom door, and into the kitchen, where he’s staring intently at the microwave.

He pushes his door open, weary as to where to put his eyes while his girlfriend is in nothing but a towel.

“Yes?”

“Do you know where my clothes are? I thought I left them in this drawer but..”

“Oh! Hold on!”

He goes back though his door, returning with a basket of laundry. It’s not fresh, nor warm to the touch, but it was definitely recently that it had been washed.

“You washed my clothes?”

“It was after you got sick,” he shrugs nonchalantly, cheeks tinging a shade, due to the way she smiles at him.

The smell of them wafting up into her face only deepens her already bright smile. She picks up her shirt, bringing it to her nose and inhaling.

“And you used-?”

The look on his face is downright bashful. “I remembered it was your favorite, so I picked you up some when I went shopping with Wayne.” He scratched his neck, “S’no big deal really.”

Her arms wrap around his neck, towel hanging on for its life.

“No, it is. Thank you, baby.”

Her fingers scratch his scalp lightly, digging into his curls and tugging gently. He feels like a dog being pet. Is this what they feel like? Lucky bastards.

He fears his leg may start kicking.

“You’re welcome.” He muffles into her neck, arms wrapped around her waist so that the towel doesn’t fall, “I’m glad you’re happy.”

—

She had called him from work, voice full of tears.

“My sweet girl, can’t you come home early?”

“Janie was supposed to come in today, but she flaked, so now I’m alone.”

“Come home, leave Austin and Marie to close today. No baby, we don’t need that money for the rent, enough cars needed fixing this week. I promise, come home- my home.”

So she did.

But trudging through Eddie and Wayne’s front door, he was nowhere to be found. His van was outside where it normally was, his shoes were haphazardly thrown in the direction of the front door - like they normally were, but he was nowhere to be seen.

Each shoe is toed off quietly, as she softly calls his name, not wanting to disturb Wayne’s weird sleep schedule. “Eddie?”

She’s scrubbing at her face, trying to get the tear tracks off.

“Eddie?”

She pads through the hall, into the bathroom where she can hear water running.

“What’s this?”

He looks up, panic stricken through his face.

“No, no, no. Go sit on the couch real quick.”

Nothing but hurt is read on her face. “What, why?”

He rushes up, cupping the back of her neck with his wet hand, while the other slides around her waist, pulling her closer.

“I did something for you.”

“You did?”

She peaks behind him into the dingy bathroom. He’s got the water running and her favorite soaps out displayed on the tub.

“No peaking!”

He uses the hand around her neck to push her face in his chest.

“You ran me a bath?” It’s muffled in his Megadeth shirt.

“Do you like it?”

“Is that your way of telling me I’m dirty?”

“What? No, no, no. I just thought that you might- uh, I thought that you might like it-?”

She laughs and he basks in it. Letting it cleanse and settle over him.

“I was joking, honey.”

He smiles, teeth poking through has he lets out breathless - relieved laughs.

“Go,” he skews his head toward the bathroom.

“But-“

“Go, I’m making dinner.”

“You’re making dinner? Baby.”

“I’m ordering from that Chinese place, the one across the street from the library,” He lets out another breathless laugh. “Go.”

“Oh, okay then.”

—

Something is stirring inside of her chest. Something warm and light. It muddles around, making her heart flutter and palms sweaty.

She’s never gotten a love letter before.

It’s not the most put together thing she’s ever seen, but it’s got to be her favorite. It’s small, but pink, and she could tell Eddie used his best handwriting for this. At the very end he signed it off with -E and a poorly drawn version of his guitar.

Where did he get pink paper?

She holds it in her hands like it’s gold, like it could tear at any moment, but two fingers pluck it out before she has the chance to read it a third time.

“Who wrote you up?” Rob asks suspiciously, eyeing the pink referral slip between her index and middle finger.

“No one-?”

Oh, that’s where he got it.

She tugs it from Robins fingers, flipping it so she could see the back - or what is actually known as the front of the paper.

Eddie Munson Grade 12 10/3/86

REASON FOR REFERRAL

-Cutting Class

-Lack of Cooperation

-Restless, Inattentive

ACTIONS TAKEN PRIOR TO REFERRAL

-Detained Student After School

PRESENT ACTION AND RECOMMENDATION(S)

-Student Regrets Incident, Cooperative

Robin reads the back as Y/N reads the front. He wrote her a love letter on the back of a referral slip?

“He wrote you a love letter on the back of a referral slip? What’s next? A receipt from a drug deal?” She ignores the instant, drug deals don’t have receipts dipshit, thought that pops up.

“That’s so sweet! He wrote me a love letter on pink paper!” Robin can’t help the twitch of a smile on her lips. “You think he’ll write me more?”

“If he doesn’t I’ll jeopardize his business.” She slings her arm around Y/N’s shoulder.

“What are best friends for?”

—

“It’s too early, it’s too early.” She whines as Eddie pushes back her hair, pressing light kisses into it, while she wraps her arms tighter around his chest.

“I know, I know.”

The sun shines in through Eddie’s open windows, the red sheet nailed above the larger one casting a crimson hue over them.

They tangle in the bed sheets, languidly and lethargic, similar to the way they held each other when she had the flu.

“C’mon, baby you gotta wake up.”

She grumbles, hands snaking under his back, desperate to feel the warmth of his skin as his box fan blows on them. They settle and he smiles as she opens her eyes.

“Why’s your shirt on?” Her sleep raspy voice tugs multiple strings in his heart.

Eddie always slept shirtless.

“I’ve already been up, sweetheart.”

“You’ve already been up?”

He smiles down at her, pushing some hair from where it sticks to her forehead. “Mhm.”

She pushes up, arms caging Eddie’s chest, as she hovers over him.

“You’re wearing your kiss the mechanic apron.” she points out, like he wouldn’t have known.

“I am.”

“Did you make breakfast?”

He shrugs, “Get up and see.”

She whines, shaking her head, laying back down on him. “Carry me?”

He thinks about it for a moment, looking down at her droopy eyes and tapping her thigh. She wraps her legs around him and he sits up, letting her be carried in his arms to the kitchen.

She smiles, resting her head on his shoulder, as he murmurs “Needy, needy, girl.”, shuffling to get a better grip on her.

“You hungry?” He softly asks.

“I’m tired.”

“Oh, I know.”

The counter is cold against her thighs as he sets her down. She squirms sadly, and he can do nothing but smile affectionately at her.

The plate he hands her is paper and warm. He sets a napkin on her lap, before the plate, so it doesn’t burn her poor thighs. Though, her eyes are closed as he does this, hands messily wiping the sleep from her eyes, so she doesn’t see the food.

“Warm.”

“Very warm,” He nods. “Eat, baby.”

Pressing a fork into her hands, he gently tugs her hands away from the cruel work they were doing to her eyes.

“Bacon? You got me bacon?”

“Benny was giving slabs away for free, down at the diner.” He bends over and kisses her jaw.

“I love bacon.”

“I know.” His voice is nothing but teasing, though, she doesn’t mind.

“You cooked the bacon by yourself?” She sets her fork down, grabbing his hands, and inspecting his arms. “And you didn’t get popped by the oil?”

He flushes, “Wayne helped me. But I made everything else by myself!”

She looks down at the food fondly. Eggs cooked like she taught him when they first started dating. Toast unburnt. Wayne’s bacon.

Wayne’s bacon was so good.

“Go get a plate, I’m not eating without you.”

“On it.”

—

“Okay, hands like this.” He grips her fingers, smiling as she lets him bend them in the right places. “Yeah! Okay, now pluck the third string.”

She plucks it, and it comes out sounding significantly better then 10 minutes ago. “You’re doing it! I’m so proud of you.”

He attacks her cheek with kisses and she scrunches her nose, pulling away in feigned annoyance.

“Teach me to play I Have a Dream.”

“What?” He pulls back agast. “I’m teaching you to play guitar on sweetheart, and you want me to teach you to play ABBA?”

She giggles, laying her head in his neck. “Yes, please.”

“No, baby, I’m teaching you to play 2 Minutes to Midnight.”

“No,” There’s a whiny edge to her voice. “That song is so hard.”

“You could do it.”

“Only if you helped me.”

“Deal.”

He lifts the guitar back up, twisting her fingers to the right frets.

“This is going to be so metal.”

He laughs out loud.

—

“-and I told Robs to go to the front of the class and tell the teacher, but she didn’t wanna embarrass herself In front of the Nancy.”

Eddie nods along, leaning against the lockers. This isn’t a conversation he’s particularly interested in, but-

“I think they’d make a good couple, don’t you?”

“Who?”

“Robin and Nancy!”

“Rob and Nance? Totally.” He waves his hand, as if dismissing any thought that they wouldn’t be.

“I knew you’d think so.”

The halls are almost empty, dismissal bell rang 5 minutes ago, but when you don’t have a bus to catch you always have a little extra time to put your stuff away.

“Are you ready?” Eddie asks, watching her shove books in her locker that she refuses to take home.

“Almost,” She turns to Eddie, looking behind him. “I just thought I heard Rob and Nances voice. I guess I’m going cra-“

She stumbles, having slipped on something, even though she could’ve sworn there was nothing on the ground a minute ago.

“Woah baby, woah baby.” Eddie grips her arms tightly, but not cruelly. Just tight enough to keep her upright. “What was that?”

“Slipped on,” She looks down at the floor “My shoelace, I guess.”

“You guess? Baby, you gotta be careful.” He bends down to one knee, patting it lightly for her to put her foot on.

Her left hand is flat against the lockers for balance as he ties her shoe for her.

“You can’t have untied shoes, sweetheart. Y’could trip and hurt yourself.” She watches fondly as he shakes his head.

“I’m sorry.”

“You’re fine, I just don’t want an injured girlfriend.” He finishes, patting her foot in approval.

“You wouldn’t love me if I was injured?”

He stands up, “Who said that?”

“You did!”

“I love you so much I wouldn’t be able to look at you, cause seeing you injured would make me so sad.”

“You wouldn’t take care of me?”

“I’d call mama Steve, I can’t stand to see you hurt.”

“Gee, thanks.”

He grabs her cheeks and presses a hard kiss to her mouth. “You’re welcome.”

—

Eddie’s room is dark like it normally is. His bong is next to him and his guitar is on his knee resting.

He loves nights like these.

He taps his knee rhythmically, slow, unlike his other songs. A power ballad if you will.

He’s been at this for hours. Strumming, tapping, and scribbling lyrics into a blank page of his math notebook.

Just as he pulls his pick out of his mouth again he hears a soft knock on his door. It’s probably just Wayne.

“Hey, boy.” Wayne cracks the door open, checking to see if Eddie is decent. “I’m leavin now.”

Eddie checks his watch, humming in confirmation.

“I’ll see you tomorrow morning?”

Wayne nods. “You writing a new song?”

Eddie smiles at his uncles effort to make conversation.

“Yeah, for Y/N.”

Now it’s Wayne’s turn to smile. “She’ll like it.”

He could hear it through the walls? Eddie flushes.

“You think?”

“Yup.” Wayne puts a baseball cap on. “I like ‘er.”

He turns to leave, closing the door behind him, leaving Eddie in shock.

“I’m out!” He hears Wayne yell, before locking the door behind him.

“Bye!”

That was.. strange.

—

Her eyes hurt from reading, her back hurts from hunching over her bedroom desk, and her heart hurts from not accepting Eddie’s kisses.

This is one of the rare nights that she isn’t sleeping at Eddie’s, having to study for the math test tomorrow, but 20 minutes ago Eddie came in through the window, and she’s gotten no work done since.

It doesn’t really matter, due to the three hours of studying she got in before he came, but it’s still stressful nonetheless.

“Cmon baby, let’s go to bed.” Eddie’s Laying on her bed, flipping through a magazine.

“I can’t, I’ve gotta study.”

“Baby, you‘ve been studying since 9:30.”

“So? What time is it now?” She doesn’t look up from the equation.

“12:43? You gotta sleep at some point.”

Startled, she checks her watch, eyes widening when she realizes he’s right.

He’s getting up, tossing the magazine, and pulling her up outta the chair. He wraps his arms around her neck, kissing the top of her head a generous amount of times.

She whines pulling away, causing him to gasp in offense.

“What could I have possibly have done?”

“Want it on my lips.”

“Only if you promise to go to bed with me.” He bargains.

“Fine.”

He grabs her face and kisses her just the way she likes. Saccharine and sweet.

“Will you come to bed now?”

“Only because I love you.” She nods glumly.

He smiles playfully down at her. “Oh, but I love you more.”

—

They had been watching a movie.

A newer one, starring Micheal J. fox. It wasn’t wasn’t usually Eddie’s thing, but he had agreed for Steve.

He’d insisted that they watch it. “No! You don’t understand! He goes back in time to-“

“Don’t spoil it for them!” Robin rasps.

“I’m not, Rob, I’ve just gotta get them hooked.”

“You don’t hook someone by spoiling a major plot point?”

So here they were, under warm covers, watching a movie that neither of them particularly wanted to watch.

Candy was splayed out In front of them. Red vines, runts, nerds, and sour patch kids, getting dug into every couple minutes. And though Eddie had whined about Steve making them choose this, after the first opening scene he was hooked.

“Goddamn, did you see the way he flung into the wall?”

She had, but she also had seen the rope tied to his stomach.

“Did you see the rope around his stomach?”

Eddie laughs, his chest shaking under her as he looks away from the tv. “No, can we rewind?”

She was content with this. Even though she didn’t particularly enjoy the movie, Eddie did, and that was enough for her.

“Damn,” Eddie mumbles, staring intently at the screen. He’s got one arm hanging off the couch, joint between fingers, and the other rubbing up and down her spine.

They’d been in this position since the movie started, utterly comfortable.

Eddie’s trailer had the worst insulation, and even worse ac and heating, so this was nice. Eddie was always warm, a natural heater, so this was always nice.

Nothing strikes in his head as unusual, they lay like this every night, but something about the way her breathing was so even gave it away.

“Hey doc, you better back up, we don’t have any road to get up 88.” The pretty Lea Thompson is perched on Micheals lap as he gives his line.

“Roads? Where we’re going we don’t need roads.” He drops his aluminum glasses over his eyes, starting the car.

Eddie’s hand lazily rises from her back and up to her head, hovering. “Sweetheart?” No answer, “Are you sleepy? Are you asleep?” still, no answer.

He cranes his neck to the side, trying to get any glimpse of his tired girl sleeping, stuffing out his joint in the process.

“The movie ended,” He whispers. “I think there’ll be a second one.”

No reaction. He sighs, letting his hand move back down and continue the work it was doing to her back. He can’t move or wake her, it would do too much to his poor heart.

She shuffles in her sleep, head leaning up towards Eddie. He holds his breath until she’s done, then he lets his nimble fingers work over her hairline. Brushing away stray hairs gently, letting his middle finger swoop down her nose, cupping her face gently, just to look at her.

He loves moments like these. Moments where he gets to stare at her so unapologetically. Moments where he gets to memorize every detail about her face, without her looking over and asking What are you looking at baby?

The slope of her nose, the way her eyelashes curl, the tilt of her mouth, the way her eyebrows furrow at something in her dream.

“You’re so pretty.” Is whispered from his mouth absentmindedly.

She can’t hear him, stuck in dreamland slaying monsters dutifully, traveling the world with Eddie, shopping with Max, or swinging bats with Steve.

He knows she can’t hear him, but it still feels necessary to say. It’s something he needs to say.

Her breathing intakes, it’s something sharp and shallow. For a moment he thinks she’s woken, but her pretty eyes haven’t opened.

“Sweetheart?” He whispers, but the quick breathing doesn’t stop. “Bad dream, hmm?”

He bends his neck down, holding her in his arms, and scattering multiple kisses over her hairline, trying to calm her.

Slowly her breathing calms again, and he lets sweet relief wash over him. He needs to get them to their bed.

Once he’s fixed her in his arms, he carry’s her to the room, gently setting her down in her spot and pulling up the covers.

He gets up to take his shirt off, but a warm hand stops him.

“Don’t leave.”

He frowns, ache dwelling in his chest at the thought. Climbing under the covers with her, he lets her cling onto him, “I’m not.”

Guess he’s sleeping with his shirt on tonight

#stranger things #eddie munson #stranger things 4 #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson x reader fluff #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie x you

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