#uhhh what other tags can i throw on here | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sttoru · 11 months

Text

“YOUR LAUGHTER IS THE SWEETEST SOUND.”

༄ sypnosis. you’re giving your boyfriend the silent treatment and he doesn’t have a clue why. thus he decides to find out in a rather special way.

༄ note. uhhh.. satoru’s been on my mind since forever and the fic ideas just keep coming so heres another one.

༄ tags. satoru x reader. female reader. just pure, tooth rotting fluff. satoru loves u sm. nicknames such as ‘sweets, babe(-y).’

“satoru. i’m counting to three.”

you stand in front of your boyfriend, hands on your hips and a frown on your face; satoru had taken your phone from you and is now holding it up out of reach.

“woah, ‘m so scared.” satoru mocks with a grin like the absolute menace he is, whistling a tune as he waits for you to do something about it.

you stood no chance since that man was above 6’3. that’s exactly what annoyed you most about the situation.

the reason he grabbed your phone from you was because you had given him the silent treatment ever since the early morning. for no apparent reason— or at least— one that satoru himself couldn’t figure out.

“satoru.” you sigh, clearly trying not to lose your temper with the guy.

“you have to tell me why you’re not talkin’ to me first.” the white-haired man shrugs nonchalantly, waving your phone back and forth in the air above.

you click your tongue and grab a pillow before throwing it at your boyfriend.

to your surprise, he lets the object hit him. it doesn’t faze him after all— he’s still steadily keeping your phone up with one hand.

satoru shakes his head and lets out a deep, over exaggerated sigh, “i would’ve given it back a looong time ago if you weren’t just so stubborn.”

that was a lie. he wouldn’t have.

the way satoru stood there with one hand in his pocket and the other hand holding up your phone way above his head, pissed you off so much more than you thought.

especially due to that little sly smirk that lingered on his face the entire time he taunted you.

“you’re extremely annoying.” you scoff.

after avoiding any close contact with your boyfriend for the entire day, you finally decide to get as close to him as possible. this was done with only one goal in mind: getting your phone back.

“got’cha.”

suddenly, you were lifted up and pinned down on the nearby couch— satoru hovering right on top of you while pinning both of your wrists above your head using one hand.

he had waited patiently for you to get close to him like that so he could pull such a cheap trick.

“now,” satoru starts, looking straight into your eyes as his warm breath slightly hits your face in the current state of close proximity, “tell me, baby.”

a second huff escapes your lips and you roll your eyes, “no can do.”

“aww— well, guess you left me no choice.” satoru sighs, his expression changing into a serious one.

he retreats from above you ever so slightly. you couldn’t see his eyes since his bangs covered them for the most part, though you could sense a certain shift in his aura.

“you have yourself to blame for this.”

his tone sounded like he wasn’t playing around either.

…

you were a second too late to react before satoru did. his hands moved at the speed of the light— landing right beneath your shirt. your eyes widened as you realised what he was doing;

satoru was going to torture the information out of you. with non-stop tickles.

“hey! s-stop!” you try to keep your expression stoic and devoid of emotion, but fail miserably at that task the moment you felt him tickling you.

“hmm? can’t hear ya.” satoru teases while his fingers kept moving quickly and repeatedly over the exposed skin under your shirt.

“you!” you try to warn the white-haired man seriously, though you burst into a fit of laughter instead.

satoru’s face lights up the moment he hears the sweet sound of your laughter. he’s grinning from ear to ear like he’s just won the best prize there was, “my baby’s so pretty when she’s smiling like this.”

neither his affectionate words nor his loving gaze had been noticed by you. the only thing you were capable of doing was laugh and try to get his hands off you.

“satoru! i swear—”

it’s like both of you were in your own worlds, focused on two entirely different things: you were trying so hard to stop your boyfriend from tickling you while he was lost in your beauty beneath him.

“tha’s not my name,” satoru pouted, increasing the intensity of his tickles.

he didn’t like it whenever you’d purposely avoid referring to him with affectionate nicknames.

you did that whenever you were upset with him and that’s why he always tries his best to not get on your nerves (keyword: tries. satoru somehow always manages to annoy you, though sometimes it’s on purpose since your reactions were adorable).

“i can’t anymore!” there’s tears welling up in your eyes due to you laughing and giggling non-stop. your stomach was also reaching its limit.

“i’ll stop if you say it,” satoru chuckles along, his blue eyes staring at you over the rims of his pitch-black lenses, “say ‘pleaaase, baby.’”

his fingers continued to ruthlessly tickle your sides while you tried to escape his grasp.

“c’mon, i know you can do it.” your boyfriend adds with a small smirk on his face.

“no way!” you shake your head while giggling uncontrollably. even in this state, you were somehow holding onto that avoidant attitude of yours.

“that’s no good, sweets.”

satoru decided to use his trump card: tickling your armpits. he’ll have you begging him to stop in no time.

as expected, you squeal and squirm around underneath the snowy-haired male, your breathing unstable due to the amount of laughter leaving your lips.

“w-wait—,” you manage to get out between giggles, “please, baby, i give up!”

satoru was content with your answer and rested his hands on either side of your body.

“wasn’t that hard, ey?”

you could see that victorious expression on his face which beamed of confidence. it made you roll your eyes.

“shut up.” you breathe out deeply as you try to regain your composure.

satoru’s thumb gently brushed your tears of joy away while he looked down at you fondly. you looked extremely precious like that; teary eyed, hair messy and a slight pout on your lips.

he doesn’t want this moment to end.

and thus he starts to act dumb.

“hmm.. what did i say again just now?” satoru scratches his head with his index finger like he was thinking deeply about something.

“nu-uh. don’t you dare.” you knew that whenever satoru feigned innocence in situations like these, chaos was going to unfold a moment later.

“that i’d stop if you said ple— eh, whatever. i don’t remember.”

satoru shrugs, that fake innocent expression turning into a mischievous one in under a split second.

before you could escape, satoru started to tickle you again. you really should’ve expected him to pull another cheap trick like that; it’s the gojo satoru after all.

“you just wait, satoru, i swear i’ll kick your ass!”

“i’d like to see you try, babe.”

your laughter fills satoru’s ears once more and it’s then that he realises for the umpteenth time how grateful he is.

he’s indebted to the heavens for granting him the chance to live at the same time as you.

at this point, satoru wasn’t even concentrated on getting information out of you. seeing you all giggly and happy like this was enough for him.

he didn’t want to pressure you too much into telling him your reason for the silent treatment earlier.

he’ll find out one way or another. just like he usually does.

#sttoru writes.#jjk x reader #gojo x reader #jjk fluff #jjk x you #gojo x you #gojo fluff #jjk fic #banner by cafekitsune

5K notes · View notes

strang3lov3 · 24 days

Text

Raise

Roman Roy x f!reader (6.1k)

Summary - Roman will increase your raise substantially, so long as you don't lose his game.

Tags - 18+ smut mdni, harassment, manipulation, coercion, dubcon, blowjobs, fingering, oral, brief ass eating and play, unprotected piv, rough sex, creampie, reader has a bush but is otherwise not described, roman is dominant because i like him that way, reader has a sick cat.

A/N - hello Roman readers!! it's been a while, but I hope to write a little more of him for you this summer. Thank you for being patient with me and for all of the love and support on Invisible Line . Enjoy the smut my friends

Graciously edited by my love @noxturnalpascal <3

You’re sitting at Roman’s desk, staring at the back of his monitor, counting the number of pens in his cup. You wonder how much he actually writes with them, if he has a favorite and which one it could be. Roman’s making you wait on him, just because he can. He likes to watch you squirm. He’s got an analog clock on the wall that ticks loudly, something he probably hand picked himself. Obnoxious, just like him.

It’s been about a year of you working at Waystar, a year of putting up with Roman’s antics. It started with some light hazing, as others called it. Roman would humiliate you in meetings, going out of his way to make your day worse. He’d stick a leg out in the aisle of his jet to trip your feet, scuff your pretty heels you worked so hard saving up for. Most bullies get a rise out of their victim’s reaction, but Roman always seemed equally amused by your lack of one. He was relentless, and his tormenting only escalated as time went on. Pinching your ass cheek in a crowded elevator, groping you on the jet, whispering vulgar things in your ear. Roman, ever the walking sexual harassment lawsuit, but nothing you can’t handle. He seems to know this too.

He’s harmless, after all. Gossip is rich at Waystar Royco, especially when it comes to the family. Kendall went on another bender, Logan’s pissing in closets and losing it, Roman can’t get it up - scared of pussy, always has been, always will be. You’d heard it all before, so you know that all of his touching, inappropriate sexual remarks, they’re just a façade. But yet, you’re not immune to the anxiety he invokes within you. Your heart pounds when Roman enters the room, pounds harder when he locks the door behind him. You feel the pulse between your thighs.

Roman takes a seat across from you at his desk, papers in hand, and taps the edge of them on the wood to line them up. Your legs are crossed, you’re wiggling your ankle. Anxious tic. “Are you nervous?” he asks. “You don’t have to be. It’s just me and you, you and me. Nothing to be nervous about.”

“I know,” you reply quietly.

“Cool. So I’m gonna start us off. You’ve been here for uhhh….” Roman hums, thinking, “Little over a year now, so congratulations are in order. So congrats,” he says, motioning to you with the papers in his hand.

“Thank you,” you say.

Roman continues, “It’s been nice having you here, for a number of reasons. Number of reasons,” he smirks, his voice a little lower. You shift uncomfortably in your seat when he glances at you through his eyebrows, still mostly looking down at his papers. “I like having you here, a lot. I do,” Roman says. He’s throwing you off though, and you know he’s trying to make you second guess yourself, walk on eggshells around him. And it works. “It’s just…I don’t know. Not that impressed with your performance lately.”

“Okay…Why, exactly?”

“You tell me.”

Roman’s good at what he’s doing. He knows exactly the kind of inflection in his tone he needs to take to really get under your skin, make you pick at your nails a little more urgently, tug at that loose string in your skirt until it breaks. Roman likes you - really, he does. You’re quiet, you do as you’re told, you’re maybe a little meek for his taste, but there’s worse things than that. He had a conversation with you recently on the plane and got to know you a little better.

During the flight he’d noticed the cat photo on your phone’s lock screen and asked about it. “Who’s this?”

“Artie,” you replied. “He’s my baby. He’s a sick old man, but he’s my baby.”

“Sick? How sick?”

You shrugged, not really wanting to get into it entirely. It’s difficult to think about. “He’s getting uncomfortable. He’s got a few years left in him, I think, but he’s got some stuff going on. I take him in for these treatments every two weeks, and they’re getting too expensive. And he’s got teeth issues, so he’s in pain. And just - none of it’s affordable, so I’m considering…I don’t know. You know.”

Roman nodded sympathetically, then asked what vet’s office you take Artie to. You stifled your laugh when he told you that he always considered himself a cat person. Roman, a cat person. It’s hard to think of him as an actual human at times, bizarre to think of him as a human that could identify with any sort of animal. If anything, you would have guessed he’d associate with a snake. Bearded dragon, maybe. You don’t know.

“Seriously, I love ‘em,” he explained, “Dogs are just so in your face, you know? I don’t know. They’re fine, I guess. One of god’s creatures. I’ve just always liked cats.”

“Didn’t know that,” you replied with a small smile.

“You do now,” he said. He was a little too close for comfort, sitting next to you bicep to bicep, thigh to thigh. Roman whispered, “I can help you, if you ask for it.”

“Ask for what?”

“You know. You’ve got an anniversary coming up, yeah? Usually means a raise. What do you think, would five percent be enough? Take care of your kitty cat and a little extra for you?” Your eyes lit up at that and you nodded excitedly. “I need you to ask.”

“Can I have…” Nervous it might be a trap, you trail off, but Roman raised his eyebrows and nodded, encouraged to go on. It felt less like a trap than normal, though. “Five percent?”

“Oh, it’d be my pleasure. We’ll have a performance meeting here soon, we’ll bang it all out,” Roman squeezes your thigh a couple of times, you don’t even jump like you usually do when he touches you and flirts. “Yeah?”

You tell me.

You’re caught off guard, zero clue what Roman could be referring to. “I don’t - you - what did I do?” your voice comes out shakier, more defensive than you intended.

“Hey, relax. Just you and me, like I said. It’ll be fine.” Roman waits for you to reply, but you’re silent. “It’s not a big deal, really, and it’s fixable. You know, with discipline and all that. I’ve just noticed you’ve got quite the habit of sneaking off to the supply closet? Hours at a time, sometimes, and always when I need you most. What is it you’re doing in there?”

Still silent. Moreso now, as if that’s even possible, because you know exactly what Roman’s talking about. You wonder how much he knows, if he’s heard or - god forbid - seen anything. You’re not going to talk about it.

“That’s fine,” Roman says, “Don’t tell me. Anyway, I see here you’re asking for a five percent raise, the best I can do is one and a half. Insulting, I know, but - well - you know, keep up the hard work. I’m sure you’ll get there.”

“But the plane,” you argue, “Roman, you told me to ask for five.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not - ugh -” he groans then, an exaggerated groan, like he’s really trying to sell it. You shouldn’t have trusted him on the plane, you should’ve known he’d fuck you. He always fucks you, he fucks everyone. “I’m not happy about this either. I think you deserve your five percent. Fuck it, I think you deserve ten. But my hands are tied.”

“But they’re not, Roman, you said–”

“I know what I said, but I told you: you’re dropping the ball, and I just don’t feel that you deserve that five percent anymore. Don’t think it’s representative of the kind of work you’ve been doing here.”

Roman stares at you from across his desk, putting on his own pouty face to mock yours. You feel disappointed, both in him and in yourself. Dejected. It’s your own fault, for two reasons: A, trusting Roman to throw you a bone and B, getting called out for the closet thing. He stands up, tapping fingers on his desk as he rounds it to sit in the chair next to you and puts a hand on your thigh, always with the hand on your thigh. You’re almost used to it. He says, “You’re upset. I know. I’m sorry. But some raise is better than no raise, right?” with a squeeze to your flesh.

“Yeah. I guess. Was just excited, you and I…we talked about this,” you whisper. Poor Artie. You had told him excitedly that he’s gonna start having good days again. Good thing cats don’t speak English.

“I know. I don’t - yeah, I don’t know. That was before though, wasn’t it? Maybe if you tell me what you’ve been doing in that supply closet I’ll wiggle a bit.” Roman looks at you quietly, a sly smirk on his lips, still drumming his fingers against the top of his desk as he allows you time to explain yourself. When the silence hangs long enough, he decides to switch gears. He bends down and lifts your leg up onto his lap, escalating those touches of his again. “Nice heels. I like these on you,” he says.

“Thank you,” you mumble cautiously. Is that it? Is the meeting over? He brought you in here just to tell you that your raise might as well be nothing at all, and then what? He’s turning your foot in his hand, now, and you’re tensing up with his touch.

“Sure.” Roman says. He doesn’t ask permission when he pulls the shoe off, exposing your foot - he’d never ask permission. With his pointer finger, he traces your skin, starting at your heel, tracing up, up, he watches your toes curl as he follows the curve of each one. He tells you he likes the way your toes are pedicured.

“Roman,” you protest, trying to pull your foot from his grip. Roman ignores you and squeezes your ankle tightly with his other hand as he continues to touch your skin.

“You’re ticklish,” he says, now tracing the length of the bottom of your foot. You’re wiggling and fighting not to kick him but you do, accidentally. You kick harder than you expected, certainly harder than Roman expected as well. This much is evident when he lets out a surprised noise, a groan of pain, and chuckles at that. “Alright, alright, don’t hurt me. I’ll stop.”

Stop tickling you, maybe. But he’s not done touching you, oh not at all. He pulls on your other leg and brings it to his lap, rolls your chair until it’s as close as can be, flush with his legs. He sits your feet on top of the arm rests of his chair and his hands are traveling up your legs now, fingers skating over your kneecaps and you jolt again, one of your shins hit the hardwood of his desk and you suck a sharp breath through your teeth. “You’re ticklish here, too?” Roman asks, circling your knee with his middle and forefingers. His question is answered when you squirm and shimmy in your seat, reaching to pry his hands away as you bite down on your lip to hide the smile that betrays you. “Wow. Sensitive, very sensitive. Are you sensitive everywhere?”

One of his hands is climbing up your thigh now, his fingertips hidden beneath the fabric of your skirt. You look over her shoulder, then hear the click of Roman hitting a button on his remote. Shades descend down the vast planes of his indoor windows, concealing you and Roman in privacy.

Not that there’s many people in the office, anyway. Your stomach drops and your heart pounds loudly, loud enough that Roman might hear if it weren’t for your heavy breathing, made up of fear, arousal, anticipation. You face Roman again and the sun is setting behind him, there’s not much light on his face and he looks almost like a movie in black and white. Fuck, he’s so sexy like this, sleeves rolled up and his small, crooked smirk. He’s gorgeous, with his longish strands of dark hair, his eyes that flicker between colors of hazel and green, now darkened nearly black. He taps you, “Hey, you. I asked you something.”

“Y-yeah, I’m ticklish,” you stutter.

“Well duh, I know you’re ticklish, look–” Roman reaches behind himself to tickle your foot again, and he catches your ankle when you try to kick him away. Your foot goes right back where he wants it. “I asked if you’re sensitive. Sensitive like, what’re you gonna do if my hand goes up your skirt?”

“Roman, what are you–”

“Nothing you don’t want me to do.” he interrupts. Roman continues, “Maybe my hands aren’t as tied as we thought. I could get you that ten percent, if you’d let me.”

With one hand drawing lazy patterns on your bare thigh, the other is unbuckling his belt, the sound is unmistakable. He’s palming his bulge through his Calvin Klein briefs, groaning as he does so. Then he pulls his cock out, where it springs up against his tummy. You must look shocked or scared by this, because Roman tells you to relax. “I’m not doing anything. You don’t have to suck me off, I don’t even have to fuck you. I probably will, though. It’s easy.”

“What’s easy?”

“What I’m gonna do to you,” he says plainly. He continues, “If you let me have my way with you, toy with you for as long as I’d like, however I like, I’ll get you your ten percent. Promise. I know it’s like, super off the books, but…more fun this way, I think. And you’d agree too, wouldn’t you?”

“Roman, we’re gonna…we’re gonna get in trouble, Roman,” you caution.

“But you don’t disagree, though.”

“We’re going to get in trouble,” you repeat.

“Only if you tattle. And you’re not gonna tattle on me, are you? ‘Cause that would be stupid. You know what’d happen - they’d ask if I harassed you, and you’d say yes, of course, because you know I love to. They’d ask you how long it’s been going on for, da da da. You know. But then–” Roman pushes your knees apart, opening you up wide for him and your skirt bunches up at the top of your thighs, “I’ll tell them how you spread your legs for me, how you moaned for me - ‘cause you will. Oh, I’ll make you. And I’ll tell them how you wanted it this way. Always wanted it this way, didn’t you?” he asks. “You can be honest.”

Your body will do nothing if not betray you. You nod, because you’ve fantasized about this. Oh, you’ve fantasized about all of this, about Roman. And they’re never normal fantasies, always the dirtiest and most shameful. Roman fucking you against a window he masturbates on, people below could watch if they wanted. Roman hitting you, hurting you. Teasing you. Making you cry, then kissing away your tears. You’ll squeeze your legs together on the plane when you think of these things, often sitting across from Roman or right next to him. Slip away when you need relief, desperately dance your fingers around your clit. Roman always watches you after you emerge from your hiding place, like he knows, like he can smell it on you.“Yeah, I know. This’ll be fun then. Lotta fun.”

Roman brings one of your feet to his lips and kisses it, kisses up your ankle and your leg, his stubble brushing and scratching against your skin. Remembering his rule, that he’ll do as he pleases and that you just have to take it, you ask him, “What are you, oh fuck–” you gasp and moan when he sucks on a spot near your inner knee, an area you didn’t even know could feel that way. “What are you gonna do to me?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” he taunts. He kisses your other leg, swirling his tongue in circles on your skin. “Whatever I want, that’s what I’m gonna do to you. Does that answer your question?”

Roman bends forward, wriggles his hands beneath your skirt and paws at your hips until he hooks his fingers into the fabric of your panties, then pulls them down and off your legs. He admires his work, seeing as they’re already slick with your arousal. “Wet for me already,” he comments, sniffing your panties before tucking them away. You’re embarrassed by that, heat creeps up your neck and paints your cheeks. Roman continues, “But yeah, I don’t know, though, to answer your question. What do you think I’m gonna do to you?”

“Touch me,” you breathe. You’re not sure if it’s an answer to his question or a demand. Roman smiles at your desperation.

“Well yeah, of course I’m gonna touch you. I’ll touch you more than I touch myself, and you know that’s a lot. You should probably be scared.”

Roman inches closer, placing one of his hands on top of the back of your chair, caging you in. He has such a way of making you feel so small. A hand sneaks between your thighs, where he first toys with your tuft of curls, dampened by your arousal. “How nice. You shaved for me.”

He dips his fingers between your lips, dragging them through your slickened folds. You’re sighing, your head falling back against your chair as you finally feel him where you’ve been needing him most. You’re so wet, he notices, parting your flesh. Wet enough that as he touches you lightly, just teasing, your cunt makes sticky, lewd noises for him. He dips a finger inside you, circles your clit with his thumb to see what he’s working with. He wants to know how easily you moan, how he can make you whimper. He wants to find out just how sensitive you are really. You’re loud, despite your fighting to keep quiet. Roman hushes you, “Shhhh. Are you always this loud? Or is it just for me?”

You’re already close and he knows this by the way your clit twitches under his thumb, how your cunt is beginning to pulse and squeeze his knuckles. “Just for me,” he mumbles under his breath. He clears his throat before speaking, “One - one little caveat though, sweetheart, and I think you’ll wanna listen.”

“I’m listening,” you rasp. Roman’s movements never falter, but you’re not even conscious of the way you’re frantically holding his wrist. Don’t stop, don’t stop.

“If you come, you’re not getting a raise.”

You lift your head to look at Roman. “What?”

“What?” He mocks you. “Yeah,” he says, “Double or nothing. I’ll double your ask if you’re good and if you don’t come. Or - er…I mean, you’re getting one and a half percent, and a jump to ten would be…” Roman does the math in his head, “Like, six point six repeating. So technically, sextuple or nothing but fucking…whatever. Isn’t that fitting, sextuple?”

“Roman–”

“You come on my fingers, tongue, cock and you get…nothing at all. It’s a game, it’s a fun game. Fun for me, at least.”

Roman continues to tease you. You stare at him for a moment, when the eye contact becomes too intense you drop your eyes to your lap, staring at the fabric of your skirt that dances with his movements.

“Look–” he says, “You can tap out if you want. Take your one and a half percent and be on your way. You know I’m not gonna force you to do anything.”

Roman changes the angle a bit, curls his fingers until he finds that spot that makes you gasp and shudder. He hums in amusement as you squirm and bite back a moan. “Roman, I’m gonna, I’m gonna,” you pant, “I need a second, Roman.”

Roman stops, to your surprise. You didn’t really expect him to. “Works out, actually, because I need a moment to think about what I’m gonna do to you. On your knees for me, sweetheart, come on,” He reaches to help you move, your slick on his fingertips now on your legs. Once you’re on your knees for him, just how he wanted. He pumps his cock a couple of times and reaches with his free hand to take you by the chin, guiding you to where he wants you. “There you go - good girl. Good girl.”

He keeps a hand on your head, urging you lower until the tip of his cock breaches your lips. You swirl your tongue around the head a couple of times to tease him, but Roman doesn’t have it. “Nuh-uh, cut that out. No teasing, down you go,” he says, pushing your head down on his cock. “Down. Hand goes here,” Roman reaches for one of your hands and spits in it before guiding it to the base of his cock where he wraps his fingers around yours. He twists your hand for you as he keeps a firm pressure on your scalp, encouraging you to take him deep. You whimper and sputter on his cock, it’s too much yet. He’s thick and long, filling your mouth entirely. “Can’t, Roman, it’s too much,” you whine.

“Oh, come on. Yes you can,” Roman pushes himself into your mouth once more, controlling the pace to his liking though it’s still too much for you and he knows it, he can feel it when he bucks his hips, cock hitting the back of your throat and you gag. “I think you’ll get used to it.”

But you don’t. Roman fucks himself deep into your mouth and your eyes prick with tears, your jaw is so sore already. You wonder if he’s even thinking about what he’s gonna do to you, like he said he would. He doesn’t appear to be, not with the way his eyes are rolling back and his brows are furrowed together as he moans softly. He squeezes your hand, reminding you to put it to use. “Look at you,” he says, holding the side of your face and skating his thumb over your cheekbone, you’d almost call it tender. “God, you’re good at this. I think you’re made for this, don’t you?” You bob your head, trace your tongue along the veins of his shaft and Roman answers his own question, “You are.”

Your jaw is still sore with the newness of it all, but you’re finally about used to the feeling when Roman pulls you off of his cock. His eyes are bright and excited, he wears a mischievous smirk as he pulls on your swollen, wet lips with his thumb. Roman takes your hands and pulls you to your feet at the same time as he stands up from his chair, he leads you to his couch and sits you on the armrest as he unbuttons your shirt, unhooks your bra. He holds your torso in both of his hands, breathing heavily as they travel up, up, where he cups your breasts, teasing your nipples with his fingers. Pinching and rolling one, flicking the other. “You are sensitive, aren’t you? I bet I could make you come like this. Maybe I’ll try.”

“Roman, please don’t.”

Roman tilts his head in amusement. “Really not your call, but I won’t, sweetheart. Maybe next time. Open your mouth for me.”

“Rome–”

Roman reaches into his pocket and pulls out your worn panties. He stuffs them in your mouth, the cotton is rough on your tongue but you can still taste your own arousal. “I guess you’re not always so quiet, huh? Didn’t know you could make so much noise. Just had to wiggle it out of you. I’ll keep it in mind,” he comments, loosening his necktie now. Once loosened, he turns you around and presses a kiss to the blade of your shoulder. “This–” he says, tying the silk around your wrists, “Is so you can’t cheat and push me away. You are going to lie here and you are going to take what I give you, and you’re playing by the rules. No coming, I mean - not unless you wanna lose your raise. It is all up to you, my darling.” Roman pushes you down then, your face in the cushions of the couch as he pulls your hips back, putting you right where he wants you. “And don’t try lying to me, either, telling me you didn’t come. I’ll know. I know the noises you make, and I’ve watched you come. You’re very obvious.”

You let out a muffled noise of surprise at that. Roman chuckles.

“Yeah, I was waiting to see if you’d fess up to what you do on your little supply runs. Been getting off to it actually, you know? Cameras everywhere. You put on a nice little show for me.”

Well, fuck. Cat’s out of the bag. Has been actually, if Roman’s telling the truth, and you know he is.

“Yeah, no. It was odd. It was last week, and you were in my office doing whatever it is that you do. And then I came in all sweaty from my workout, I don’t know. You gave me this sort of deer in the headlights look and ran off, something about needing new Sharpies. And I just found it odd for just a…just a couple of reasons, you know? Like one, I like Sharpies, those slutty little pens. So I keep them around, and two, you have an iPad. You don’t use Sharpies.” Roman finds the zipper on the side of your skirt, pulls it down slowly before pulling the skirt off of you entirely, tossing it behind him. You’re bare for him now, all exposed and your arms tied tightly behind you. “So I mosey on down to security, and I’m just curious. Naturally, of course. I take a seat and I flip through the channels until I find you in your closet and sure as shit, you’re fucking yourself. And those cameras have mics too, so I hear everything. Roman, oh Roman,” he mocks. “That was my favorite part. All pathetic and desperate for me, music to my ears. I must really do it for you, don’t I? When I’m all sweaty and gross. You’re a freak, huh? My favorite little pornstar, and you didn’t even know it.”

You feel him move behind you, anticipating the feeling of his cock breaching your entrance. But the feeling never comes. Instead, you hear the small crack of his joints as Roman kneels behind you. You let out a muffled gasp when you finally feel him touch you, his big hands squeezing your ass cheeks before he spreads you apart, spitting on your hole. How vulnerable you must feel, Roman wonders. He wonders how much you trust him, if at all. Now you’re gonna have to.

You first feel his tongue circling your tight hole, then he presses a few kisses there, all wet and sloppy. He dips his tongue inside you and you squirm a bit at the unfamiliar sensation. It’s different and unexpected, especially coming from Roman.

He pulls away from you momentarily, “I know. I promise I’ll get you off soon,” and you feel him smirking against you before swirling his tongue one last time around your hole, and then his lips travel lower. He’s kissing at your slick folds now, dipping his tongue inside your wet heat as he inhales you, your sweet arousal. He traces you with his tongue, just for fun, just for a moment before finding your clit, sucking and licking at the sensitive bud.

He doesn’t eat you the way he should. He doesn’t savor you, there’s no love in it. Passion, determination, sure - but no love. His tongue and lips on your clit is not something he’s doing for you, it’s something he’s doing to you, for his own amusement. It’s all aggression, all fingernails cutting into your skin under his bruising grip, a relentless assault on your sex. His scruff scratches your inner thighs and rubs you raw, you’ll be feeling him for days after, skin burning under the lather of your lavender scented soap in the shower. And worst of all, you fucking love it. There’s nothing you can do about it, and you fucking love it. Even in your fantasies, all those midday supply closet visits, you always knew it’d be like this. No tenderness or adoration, not from broken Roman and certainly not like this. You wouldn’t have it any other way.

You’re moaning something but you don’t know what, not with your own panties shoved down your throat. Roman thinks it’s his name, he thinks he can hear the two syllables. He keeps you still, held tight in his grip so that you can’t writhe and grind against his mouth and take control of your pleasure like he knows you’re trying to do. Like Roman said, you’re gonna take it. You’re gonna feel his perfect, pointed nose tease that space he just fucked with his tongue. Feel his lips lap at your poor, swollen clit. He eats you voraciously, consumes you whole and you’re beginning to see stars.

Roman intently listens to all those different noises you’re making. Muffled cries and those wet, lewd sounds of your cunt being licked, sucked, kissed, lapped. And he can feel your thighs twitching with your impending release, “Don’t come,” he reminds you in a singsong tone. “I’m not gonna stop this time. Don’t come.”

Your groan of frustration is muffled too, but unmistakable all the same. Only when Roman’s jaw and his tongue begin to tire does he finally relent, pulling away from your body but not before he kisses and bites your ass cheek right where it meets your thigh. Roman stands then, pumps his cock a couple of times with his fist before he lines up with your entrance, notching himself inside you. He offers no warning before burying himself in you unceremoniously, splitting you in two. You cry out, balling your bound fists. In a small gesture of kindness, Roman reaches for your hands and squeezes, rubs his thumb comfortingly over your palm as he allows you just a moment to get used to the stretch and the ache. When the tension dissipates and your fingers relax, he pulls out of you all the way and pushes himself right back in, even harder and faster than before. “God, you’re fuckin’ tight.”

He fucks you slow at first, searching for the right pace and angle to make you squirm. You arch your back and keen into the sensation, then quickly pull away as you realize you’ve given him another tell. But Roman’s attentive. With your sweet spot now in mind, he sets a quick pace with a zealous snapping of his hips, his neatly trimmed tuft of pubic hair rubs against your ass. He works a hand between you and his couch, pressing his fingertips against your clit and using his thrusts to stimulate it. He gives you his all and you can do nothing but take it, take him. “Fuck,” he pants, circling your asshole with his thumb before pressing it inside. “Oh, fuck. Tough nut to crack, aren’t you? I’ll get there. I’ll break you, just you wait.”

It’s not easy, and knowing what you’re not supposed to do. And it’s what Roman’s not trying to do that makes it all the more impossible. He’s fucking loud, all whines and groans and swears. And you’ve heard it all before from his mouth, but the way he strings it together has you dizzy. ‘Oh, fuck’ followed by a moan and another ‘Fuck’. Heavy breathing, ‘Such a good girl’ and a sharp inhale. Your panties feel extra obnoxious in your mouth now, knowing how much noise he makes himself. Glass houses, you think. Roman pulls out of you and flips you over so you’re face to face with him and then he’s right back at it, entering you once more and thumbing your clit just like he did in the chair. He’s glad he did so, learned what kind of tight circles to paint your clit with to make you moan loudest.

It’s sensitive and you’re right there, aching for release you know you shouldn’t allow yourself. It’s a constant fight, a push and pull between indulging in your pleasure and trying your hardest to block it out. You can’t quite read his expression when Roman notices your tear stained eyes, but he pulls your spit-soaked panties from your mouth and wipes your wet cheeks.

“You’re fine. You can take it,” he encourages. He pulls you closer so that you’re face to face, chest to chest, holding you tightly against himself. “It’s a lot, I know. You’re doing good.”

“Oh, Roman,” you moan, your eyes knit shut as you lean forward and bite into his neck to subdue your cries of pleasure. It helps to stave off your impending release.

“Oh, you bite hard,” Roman taunts, “Do what you need to do, whatever you think will work.”

It doesn’t work. He continues to round your clit with his thumb as he rolls his hips into yours and you know it and he knows it. Your breaths are shallow, your moans are strangled and you’re squirming. You’re so fucking close.

“It’s gonna happen, isn’t it? And you can’t do a fucking thing about it, can you?” Roman goads, “You gonna come for me?”

“No,” you whimper.

“Oh, come on. Just let go. You know I’m gonna get it out of you, one way or another. So quit torturing yourself, just let go for me. Hey–” he pulls back to look you in the eyes, stroking your back with one of his hands and his voice is kind, saccharine. “Just let go.” Roman nods, eyebrows raised as he searches for your confirmation. When you nod back, Roman smiles. He’s got you in the palm of his hand.

It’s a just few seconds of Roman teasing your clit with those tight, steadied circles as he fucks you deeply. And then you’re there, and god is it intense. You shake and stutter in Roman’s arms, and you’re certain you’re breaking into pieces, he’s just holding you together and thank god for that. Roman’s jaw twitches and he’s about to come undone with you, but he never loses focus on you. You’re gonna give him everything you have and he’s gonna make sure of it.

“Roman, Roman, Roman,” you cry. “Oh my god, Roman, please.”

“Fuck me,” he hisses. It’s too much and too sensitive as he fucks you through it, chasing his own release. He comes with a whine, painting your insides with his hot come before his thrusts slow to a still. Roman pulls out of you slowly, groaning as he does so. His come spills onto the expensive upholstery of his couch, but he doesn’t seem bothered. He’s still close to you as he fumbles with the knot of his necktie holding your wrists together. You can smell him, the fresh sweat and faint cologne. When he unties you, you rub your irritated wrists in your hands, doing your best to process what just happened. You dress yourselves silently, the rustling and swishing of your clothes, the clinking of Roman’s belt buckle are the only sounds in the room.

The ripping up of papers startles you. Roman crumples the shredded papers that discussed your raise and tosses them in his trash can. Dramatic. You watch as he does so, your heart dropping. “Don’t start with the waterworks. You came on my cock, you knew the rules. This is on you,” he says, “Hey, don’t look at me like that. You’re fucking fine. Everything’s fine, okay?”

It’s been about two weeks since your encounter with Roman. You’ve avoided him as much as one in your position can do, though it’s not easy. You use a variety of techniques, grey rocking, silent treatment. It doesn’t seem to deter him much.

Artie sits in his carrier as you pull out your wallet to pay for what’s probably his last treatment. You can’t help but feel so selfish, so consumed by guilt.

“Oh–” the vet’s office receptionist says, “It’s been paid for already. You guys are good to go.”

“Oh no, that can’t be right. Here–” you hand her your card.

But the receptionist doesn’t take it. “It is, actually. There’s a credit on your account.”

“What?”

“Yeah, someone called a couple of weeks ago and put a substantial credit on your account. You’re good for a long time.”

“Who?”

The receptionist shrugs, “Anonymous donor. They left a message though, if that helps.”

“What’d they say?”

“Uhmm,” the receptionist blushes and stutters. Instead of answering you verbally, she turns her monitor around to show you.

“For my favorite pornstar and her cat. Take care of him. -R”

If you enjoyed, please reblog, leave me a nice comment <3 your words keep me motivated.

#strang3lov3 #roman roy x reader smut #roman roy smut #Roman Roy x reader #roman roy x you #Roman Roy #succession x reader #succession fic #succession #kieran culkin

181 notes · View notes

sharkorok · 5 months

Text

knight in shining armor!

or where ZB1 helps you out against unwanted advances!

requested: nooo

cw/genre: reader inferred to be fem on various occasions, fluff, humor, uncomfortable comments, unwanted flirting, no yujin because if they’re younger than me u know that’s crazy, cursing, established relationship w/ zb1, tell me if anything else shud be tagged yay

a/n: I’m working on all the situationship requests but it’s getting a little redundant so I decided to try writing some other ideas I had :] hope it’s ok and u enjoy!

•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•

jiwoong

-tbh I don’t think he’ll be super duper confrontational unless necessary, mainly cuz he doesn’t want to put you in an uncomfortable position :((

-you two were just out setting up for a picnic and he left for a second to grab something from the car, and some random guy strolled you to you ready to spit game but honestly you were already thinking of the right time to call the police

-“heyyy are u a fire hydrant because i’d bump into you on the street and stare” was the guy’s opening line which made you audibly laugh, mainly in shock and not flattery because genuinely what the fuck

-“uhhh??”

-you were very thankful for the return of your boyfriend who just shot the guy a confused glance and was like “who r u…?”

-jiwoong was genuinely appalled that this guy thought he had a chance w u, so just calmly explained you two were dating while staring at the stranger

-would really only get pressed if he noticed the guy getting more pushy and aggressive, but once he was gone he’d mainly he focused on trying to take your mind off the situation rather than comforting u :) you guys came here for a cute picnic date and he didn’t want you stuck ruminating over someone like that

-not really jealous, just mad that you were forced in such a weird situation

-u get tons of kisses and he’ll definitely be joking about this in the car

zhanghao

-you and ur lovely boyfie hao were at a new cafe trying out the seasonal menu, both of you knew the place would be bumping so you decided to just place your orders online in advance :)

-being the wonderful person you are you went to pick up the drinks while he got you two a table, and the barista stopped you with a smile

-“hey, I think you’re really beautiful, here’s a pastry on the house!” and you just smile and thank him, but he’s gone before you can even add the fact you have a boyfriend

-free food is free food so u take it back and tell hao what happened who’s gigglin because he’s very comfortable in ur guys’ relationship and this is more silly if anything, is glad other people recognizes ur beauty too <3

-however, the barista comes back to “check up on you” and is a little crestfallen at the sight of zhanghao but brushes it off

-“hey gorgeous, just wondering if everything’s alright? can I get you anything else?”

-“awww thank you, but my girlfriend and I are alright! I think you’re pretty gorgeous as well though :)” hao responded with the most witty smirk you’ve seen in ages, as you fight the urge to snicker at the barista’s seemingly annoyed reaction

-“yes…thanks” was all the barista could mutter out before leaving, causing the two of you to burst out laughing

-expect hao to be milking the joke that the barista was hitting on him instead of you for the rest of the day lolz

hanbin

-is so calm and gentle about the whole situation but takes it very seriously that you feel safe and comfortable

-it was just a waiter throwing some off-handed remarks about how nice your hair looked, or how the dress fit you so well or how your makeup looked great, and it didn’t make hanbin insecure, more worried you would feel awkward during your two’s little date :(

-neither of you want to explicitly stay anything in case the waiter was just being very nice, so hanbin would sort of up the outward affection by holding your hand over the table, brushing your hair out of your face while you talked, smiling with extra-sweet puppy dog eyes, if anything it was just giving you butterflies

-“you alright pretty girl? we can find somewhere else if the waiter is making you uncomfortable” and you wanna scream and kiss him all over because hanbin is a walking green flag !!!

-at some point the waiter gave up but you didn’t really notice because of how your heart was doing backflips over hanbin’s displays of affection and how much he evidently cared about ur comfort throughout the whole date I’m bawling my eyes out

-on the way home he admits he did get a little insecure but he was mainly worried about you so plz give him lots and lots of kisses and promise him that you are literally madly in love w him cuz u R!!

-wants to take good care of you but is extra appreciative if you remind him that you’re very thankful for his efforts I’m sobbing now bye

matthew

-“bro what” is what matthew very loudly says when a random guy walks up to you and asks for your number

-is genuinely baffled because he thought it was pretty clear with his arm wrapped around your waist as the two of you walked down the street

-also a sense of pride that you’re so hot that someone’s willing to stop you in the middle of the street for your number, but the pride is damaged once he remembered this guy seemed to completely ignore *the* matthew?? who was evidently holding you close and wearing your initial around his neck?? like hello???

-the conversation doesn’t feel real because you say, “oh I have a boyfriend!” while gesturing towards matthew and the guy literally just brushes it off??

-“dude, I’m right here, can you get the hint? go homewreck another relationship,” matthew interrupted after an unbearable minute or two of this man trying to convince you to slide ur digits ;P

-is all grumpy while muttering about how you two need to be more LOUD about ur relationship

-probably tries to convince you to buy those “I <3 MY BOYFRIEND” shirts and even thinks about getting you two more matching clothing

-“maybe I should wife you up?? the ring should be a pretty convincing hint…”

-just doesn’t want random people to get in the way of you two :(( in the least toxic way possible :((

taerae

-audibly laughs the second he sees some random guy stumbling over his words trying to talk to you at the grocery store

-he went to go grab you two some snacks and came back to this poor boy just frantically trying his best to convince you for your number while you awkwardly nod and sheepishly smile, eyes flickering around to try and see where the hell your boyfriend is

-if he notices you’re genuinely weirded out by the guy he’ll step in, but I feel like he would let you endure the awkwardness for just a moment before arriving by your side and being like “heyyy baby”

-makes a big show of kissing your temple and wrapping his arms around your waist, giving the guy a disgusted look and a sassy, “who’s this, sweetheart?”

-you’re trying not to laugh at taerae’s snide demeanor, making you immediately feel all giggly and okay again knowing he’s right here by your side

-the guy scurries off pretty fast, which made the two of you giggle

-“I can’t even leave my girlfriend alone in a grocery store,” taerae jokingly sighed, shaking his head solemnly. “Maybe I should switch to DoorDash or something, I don’t want you getting swarmed every time I go to the chips aisle.”

-makes sure to hang closely around you, not in a jealous way or anything, but he doesn’t want random guys walking up to u and making u all uncomfortable :(

-holds your hand all the way until the two of u get home!! <3

ricky

-he can shy up but he’s mainly just worried about you, gets a little protective but feels very awkward about it, doesn’t want to seem possessive or over bearing but also just wants to take care of u and makes sure ur safe :(

-but also like wtf no one gets to mess w his girl that’s just weird

-you two were clothes shopping when you wandered off to look at a pretty jacket you saw when a random guy you’re very sure you never met casually greeted you like you were an old friend, making weird remarks about how pretty you were and not so subtly asking questions that insinuated if you were single or not

-ricky comes back to see if ur doing alright and finds u very uncomfortably scooting away from this random guy, and he immediately comes to ur rescue!

-“hey baby, who’s this?”

-now we all know ricky is a sweetheart but he can also come off as very intimidating 😰😰 , so he’s sorta just straightening out his posture and staring at the guy in disgust

-once the guy leaves because…yknow ricky is seemingly a force to be reckoned with ricky gets all shy and awkward

-“was that corny? should I have even stepped in? r u okay…?” and he’s just shyly hiding ur face in his shoulder and getting all embarrassed and flustered, and u reassure him u appreciate his efforts very very much <3

gyuvin

-gyuvin can be very protective over you sometimes so the idea of you being forced into an uncomfortable situation by some random guy made him very upset

-honestly he was kinda more upset than you, and not in an insecure way but just in the way he was upset *for* you

-guys imma be fr I’m out of ideas for a random dude being creepy so let’s just cut to gyuvin confronting this dude

-he’s not really confrontational or aggressive, but just makes it very clear to leave his little baby y/n alone </3, afterwards he definitely lightens the mood to the best of his ability

-he’s more worried the entire time about your safety over his, even if the guy making advances towards you is getting agitated gyu is entirely concerned about ur well-being :(( my angel

-“baby don’t worry…ur alpha is here for u 😚😜🐺…” “gyuvin shut the FUCK up”

-obviously if ur feeling seriously upset he makes sure everything’s ok, asks if you need anything, gets you some snacks and gives u a big hug

-is unnecessarily clingy the rest of the way home tho <3 might even bark at any guy who looks at you funny depends on how shameless he’s feeling

gunwook

-he isn’t too hasty to jump in just in case he’s overestimating the entire situation, because poor guy doesn’t wanna come off as overbearing and freak you out by randomly swooping in for no apparent reason </3

-does his absolute best to be assertive but also not overly aggressive in order to avoid causing a scene and put both of you in an even worse situation

-once he’s sure there’s no more need for intimidating wook he’s all over u!!

-“are you ok? do you want me to tell authorities about that? can’t fight but I will if necessary trust”

-if u reassure him that he did good and you’re alright, he’ll be very very pleased w himself

-gives you a kiss every time you take a step and has his arms wrapped around your shoulders, he wants everyone to know that ur his and he’s yours and no way will he let any random guy ruin ur little outing!!

-does your best to make you feel safe the rest of the entire day

-has the biggest smile on his face if you tell him he did a good job, it’s not in a weird way where he’s putting himself above you but sorta in the way he feels like a proud dog for being able to take care of you?? if that makes sense?? at all??

-gives you a big hug when u gets home and does everything to make sure that rando didn’t ruin ur twos’ day :,)

#zb1 fluff #zb1 scenarios #zb1 drabbles #zb1 x reader #zb1 reactions #zerobaseone x reader #zb1 imagines #zerobaseone imagines #zerobaseone reactions #zerobaseone scenarios

396 notes · View notes

sushiwriterhere · 1 year

Text

right where i want you

summary: "Standing there, staring at the cotton balls in the trash, some part deep inside of you decides that it’s now or never with Rhett." rating: explicit (18+ mdni) pairing: rhett abbott x f!reader word count: 6.1k warnings: sub!rhett, pseudo enemies-to-lovers!, mentions of violence, choking, dry humping, overstimulation, aftercare, potentially ooc, no use of y/n. notes: uhhh walk him like a dog bitch walk him like a dog🗣😼 i'm not even gonna lie to y'all i've never seen outer range but lewis pullman is in my brain. pls let me know what u think! thank you to @sebsxphia for encouraging my rhett brainworms and to @rhettabbotts for reading a snippet ! my other works are here tagging: @lewmagoo @wkndwlff @bobfloyds @sometimesanalice @bradshawsbitch @roosterbruiser @withahappyrefrain @theharddeck - pls let me know if you'd like to be added or removed!

You work a comb in steady, circular motions over your horse’s coat, watching as the dust and pollen raises into the soft afternoon light. Just under the background noise of the stable, you hear boots crunching and you immediately know who it is. All your time away hasn’t changed a thing, it seems.

“Rhett Abbott you leave me alone or I’ll yell at the top of my lungs, I swear.” You don’t even turn around to look at him, as if not making eye contact would mean he’ll leave. He won’t. And he never does.

“How’d ‘ya know it was me?” You hear the way he kicks at the dirt of the barn floor with his boots absentmindedly, and you try to not let his presence rile you up too much since you know that’s what he wants.

You still don’t turn around to face him. “Because y’never leave me alone.”

“I’m jus’ sweet on ‘ya. Couldn’t help it if I tried. Besides, missed ‘ya while ‘ya were away at that fancy east coast school o’ yours.”

“Well, have you tried?” You ignore the second part of what he said–you’re back for the summer, and you really haven’t been gone all that long even if your parents act like you’ve come back from the dead.

That pulls a laugh from him.

For as long as you can remember, Rhett Abbott has been a pain in your ass. You were slightly younger than him but that somehow never stopped him from always finding a way to be in your presence. Your dad being Wabang’s sheriff didn’t seem to deter him either, especially when your dad started getting real prickly about having boys around.

“Nope,” He lets his lips pop dramatically on the ‘p’ sound, then pauses as if to consider his next words, “Plus, you’re real cute when you’re mad.”

All you want is to turn around and throw the rubber brush you’ve got clenched in your fingers at his stupid, smug, face. You know the exact expression he’s wearing in that moment because it’s the same one he’s had every other time he’s taunted you.

“Decide if you love me or hate me, Rhett Abbott. Quit wastin’ my time.” You hiss, and this time you do turn around. You refrain from throwing anything at him, though.

“Aw, don’t get too upset now,” He pushes himself off the stall door he’d been leaning against and makes his way into your personal space.

You level him with a scathing glare before going back to grooming. Even the way he breathes around you seems to raise your hackles and you wonder if all this tension is ever going to resolve itself. If he’s ever going to leave you alone.

“I didn’t come by to bother ‘ya, honest.” He murmurs.

You don’t grant him a response, but he stays where he is, undeterred.

“I wanted to see if you’d come out tonight, everyone’s been missin’ ‘ya. Whole town’s in uproar that you’re back.”

“I’ll think about it.”

That seems to satisfy him as a grin spreads across his face and he spins on his heel, whistling jauntily as he strolls out of the stable.

You’re loathe to admit it, but it makes something twist in your stomach at the thought that Rhett came by to invite you out, to tell you he missed you. That everyone missed you. You shove that feeling down, though. Rhett’s always just been a nuisance and the fact that he seems to have gotten far handsomer while you’d been away is not part of your calculus.

For all his insistence that he actually likes you, has been thinking about you this whole time, Rhett sure is more than happy to let some buckle bunny cuddle up to him. You swallow something down, not jealousy, but what feels like a lump in your throat. He’s a liar and you’re a fool. Rhett Abbott will never be anything but a good for nothing, sonofa—

You storm out of the bar in a huff, not noticing the way Rhett’s eyes follow you over the head of the bleach blonde who’s grasping the collar of his flannel.

In missing Rhett’s gaze, you also miss the way James Earl follows you out. By the time you’re in the parking lot, it’s too late to turn around. James is between you and the door.

He calls your name and it makes all the hair on the back of your neck stand up, “Wait up!”

“Leave me alone, James.” You really don’t want to deal with him right now, you don’t want to deal with any men, for that matter.

“I said wait.” His voice turns acidic and you pause before turning around slowly. There’s nowhere else for you to go but back into the bar, and you’re certain he won’t just let you walk off while you try to call your dad.

“Now that you’re back, I’m going to take you out to dinner.” James looks almost like he has good intentions, but you haven’t lost touch with the way news travels in Wabang just because you were separated by a few states.

You know what the girls who stayed behind say about him. You heard the stories in high school about how he treated his girlfriends–always holding their arms too tight, a little too possessive. There’s nothing about him that you like, or even want to tolerate, at all.

“No, thank you, James. I really should get going.” You try to sound sweet, try to turn on the charm in hopes that he’ll change his mind.

You turn your phone over in your hands, unlock it, and try to act nonchalant. You remember the Swiss army knife tucked in your bra if things get rough.

His demeanor switches in an instant.

“You think just ‘cause you’re the sheriff's daughter you can just walk around like you own this place, huh? Too good for us with your fancy college? All of Wabang swoonin’ over a stuck up, prissy, little bitch.” The words are like poison, but you try to stand your ground, “Why I ought’a teach you a lesson.”

When James stalks your way, one hand starting to reach for you as you reel back in fear, you realize just what he intends. The world slows to a molasses, you’re outside your body as you freeze, unable to do much but witness what you know is about to happen to you.

Instead of James’ hand around your wrist or in your hair, Rhett’s voice breaks the moment, “Earl, I’ll make ‘ya sorry ‘ya ever look’d at ‘er if ‘ya don’t step away right now.”

There he is, illuminated by the bar deck lights, one hand on his belt as he stalks into the parking lot. You’d call him your savior if you don’t blame him somehow; if he hadn’t been so wrapped up in whatever girl was giving him attention in that moment maybe you wouldn’t be here.

“Like hell you will, Abbott. Leave us alone, this is none of your business.” James whirls around, his attention momentarily off you.

You think you can make your escape, make it back inside the bar where there are more eyes and call your dad to get him to pick you up. Instead, you watch as Rhett and James come face to face, both acting like macho idiots.

They soil your plan for a hasty escape. It’s Rhett who makes the first move and shoves James, hard. In a split second they’re yelling obscenities at each other as Rhett grabs him by the collar to shake him and clock him across the face. His knuckles split open on James’ face and you aren’t sure if his nose is broken from the blow or not.

“Stop it!” You try to at least get Rhett’s attention, maybe use his feelings for you for good, but it does little as James tries to gain the upper hand. “Rhett Abbott you fool, get off’a him!”

All at once, a few other patrons spill out of the bar doors at the commotion. You’re standing a few feet back from the pair as they tussle; there’s blood strewn in the dirt and you hope not too much of it is Rhett’s. Suddenly they’re being pulled apart.

You march up to James and stick a finger in his face as he struggles against the men holding his arms, “You ever try that shit with me again I’ll make sure my daddy gives you exactly what you deserve.”

His face is twisted up in a snarl, and he looks like he’s considering spitting in your face, “Still hiding behind your daddy? Figures.”

He’s hauled off in a moment before you can respond, no doubt to get cleaned up and have someone take a look at his nose. Maybe even to face your dad. You whirl around to start shouting at Rhett next, but he’s simply standing there, hands hanging loosely by his sides. No one’s restraining him anymore, they’re all dealing with James you guess, and you realize that it’s just the two of you in the parking lot at that point.

You make your decision in an instant, “Give me your keys.”

You don’t get closer to him, you just hold a hand out and look at him expectantly. Rhett doesn’t move.

“Rhett Abbott, you damned fool, give me your keys so I can take your stupid ass home.”

He has the audacity to smile wolfishly at you, cheek bruising, and say lowly as he walks to you, “Tryin’ to take me home, sugar?”

Snatching his keys from his fist, you turn around without responding. You don’t check if he’s following you, some part of you knows you don’t need to.

You climb into the drivers side of his truck and start it, only barely waiting for him to get in and buckle up. Switching it into gear, you start driving. It’s deathly silent in the cab as you drive, ignoring far too many traffic laws along the way for someone who was raised by the sheriff. Rhett fidgets in his seat next to you.

As you weave down the back country roads to his place, you distantly recall the time during high school when he’d bought the truck. All week, girls had flocked to him, begging him to teach them to drive stick (they all already knew) or even just sit in the back. Trucks were a dime a dozen, but Rhett Abbott’s was special in the eyes of all the future buckle bunnies.

You’d watched the chaos from afar until he’d lifted his gaze from the girl tugging at his flannel to look at you. You’d looked away quickly, too embarrassed to be caught staring at him despite your continued insistence you didn’t like him in the slightest and that he never crossed your mind.

He never did end up giving any of the girls a chance. He wouldn’t even let them touch the keys.

Now here you are, driving his truck like it’s your own without a single complaint from him.

When you pull up to his house, you get out the same way you’d gotten in–without a word and barely waiting for him to catch up to you. It’s almost instinctual, the way you grab the house key from next to the truck one, unlock the door and shove inside, only knowing that he’s inside too because of the way the door slides shut softly instead of slamming.

Once inside, you flick on the kitchen light and round on him, “Now why’d ‘ya have to go and start shit with James Earl, huh?”

Rhett looks like he’s just been scolded by his mother for leaving his socks on the floor at his ripe age, and he scoffs harshly. You don’t miss the way his knuckles are split and crusted in blood. There’s a bruise blooming high on one of his cheeks.

“I’m the one startin’ shit? He was tryin’ somethin’ with you!” He takes a step toward you but you don’t move, “Earl’s a piece of shit and he got what was comin’ to him. I don’t regret a goddamn thing.”

“I had it handled.” Your defense is instinctual–knee jerk, even—everyone wants you to be fragile, to be something that needs protecting, and you’re sick of it.

“Did ‘ya?” You’re toe to toe now, and his shoulders are heaving. “‘Cause what I saw said somethin’ else.”

For a moment, you think he might kiss you. It takes all of your mental effort not to shove him and start shouting at him for how stupid he is, so instead you raise a single eyebrow and plaster on your most disapproving expression possible.

“I’m not arguin’ with you, Rhett Abbott. Get your damn first-aid kit and lemme clean ‘ya up.”

For once in his life, he listens to you. Eventually you find yourself kneeling in front of him as he sinks into the couch. You’ve turned on one of the living room lights, but there’s still just barely enough light to make out the details of his face and the way he tore up his knuckles on James Earl’s nose and cheeks.

“Now keep bein’ all tough, I better not hear ‘ya bitchin’ about the antiseptic hurtin’.” You don’t have it in you to actually hurt him though, so you keep the press of the rubbing alcohol-soaked cotton balls gentle.

He draws his shoulders up by his ears regardless, hissing lightly when it stings. Thankfully, only his pinky knuckle is actually split open on his right hand, so he won’t be entirely useless at work. His left hand is in worse shape, with three of his knuckles bubbling blood where he managed to cut them open. Both hands are bruised.

He doesn’t comment on your position at his knees.

“Earl’s nose better be fuckin’ broken.” Rhett finally breaks the silence as you finish cleaning his hands.

You don’t grant him with a response. Instead you stand to your full height and make your way to the kitchen to throw away the cotton balls now soaked with his blood. Standing there, staring at the cotton balls in the trash, some part deep inside of you decides that it’s now or never with Rhett.

When you return to him, he hasn’t moved a muscle. He simply tips his head back to look at you. Slowly, you put one knee up on the couch next to his thighs, then the other, and all of a sudden you’re kneeling over his lap. The hem of your dress just barely brushes his jeans. He looks like he’s holding his breath and he barely exhales when you let your full weight rest on him.

“I need to make sure he didn’t break yours.” It’s a lame excuse and you both know it, but you know he won’t call you on it, not when your bare thighs are warm against his denim-clad ones.

He smells like outside, like the evening sun, and something that tickles your nose; it’s uniquely Rhett. Privately, you wonder if all his clothes smell like him, and if they carry that scent even when he hasn’t worn them in a long while.

Shifting in his lap, you cradle his face and turn it toward the light. As if he’s trying not to spook a wild horse, he very delicately places his hands on your thighs. He doesn’t grip them, doesn’t let his fingertips twitch, just rests his calloused palms against your bare skin.

“Looks fine to me.” You breathe out, realizing how close your faces are.

“I’ll pretend that was a compliment.” He’s trying to sound flirtatious, trying to sound like the casanova his reputation makes him out to be, only he’s breathless and his face is flushed and you can feel his pulse racing.

You hate when men think they can just take control of you in bed because they’re a man and you’re not. But with Rhett, you can tell you’ve got him right where you want him by the way his Adam's apple bobs in his throat and the way his hands rest on your thighs, fingertips just barely brushing the hem of your dress.

Letting go of his face, you brush imaginary dust off his shoulders before letting one hand rest flat on his chest, and threading the other up into his hair. It’s silkier than you ever imagined despite the way you know you can safely assume he does jack all to take care of it. He’s so damn pretty it makes your chest ache.

Both of you are silent, only the sounds of your breathing barely audible. Ever so gently, you slide your hand from his hair to the base of his neck. He’s like a foal in the way you’re unsure of how he’ll react to your hand placement, a new sort of touch. His heart hammers in his chest beneath your palm.

He doesn’t bolt or react strongly. Instead, he swallows thickly against your hand, blinking slowly at the sensation of your fingers tucked neatly around his throat. You’re not squeezing in the slightest, just letting your fingers rest around the warm, tanned, skin of his neck.

“Are you going to behave, Rhett?” Your voice is low over the sounds of the night outside.

He nods as you flex your fingers gently, testing the waters, and his eyes flutter shut. Rocking your hips experimentally, you feel the way his grip tightens on your thighs and the way he’s hard against you.

He likes it. He likes the way you’ve got a hand around his throat, the other resting gently on his chest. He isn’t fighting you, he isn’t arguing–for once in his life, he’s quiet in your presence.

The realization of how obedient he’s being sends a skittering sort of arousal through you. You see yourself pulling on jeans tomorrow and finding his fingerprints on you. You see him staring at himself in the mirror in the morning, lost at how to cover up the evidence of what you’d done to him the night before.

“You’ve spent all this time pullin’ my pigtails, and now that I’m here you can’t even form words.” He keeps his eyes closed and nods ever so slightly.

You want to hate him.

Oh how you want to hate Rhett Abbott. You want to hate the way he’s spent the last however many years following you around like a stray dog, poking fun at you and riling you up, just to have your attention. You want to hate the way he probably spent more time chasing boys off than your dad did. More than anything else you want to find it in you to feel something other than the way he’s burrowed himself under your skin.

“Whatever,” His voice is strained and he clears his throat before opening his eyes again, “Whatever you want, sugar. I’ll do whatever you want.”

“And if I want to get up right now, and never see you again?” You aren’t going to make this easy on him.

Yelling at James Earl is one thing, almost beating him to a pulp is another. You can protect yourself, you’re not a damsel in distress, and above all Rhett needs to learn his place. You’re grateful he was there, you are. But you didn’t need him to go and get in trouble on your behalf.

“Now, sugar, I find it hard to believe—”

You move as if to stand up, going to remove the hand from his neck to use one of his shoulders as leverage. Before you can get far, really even one inch away from him, one of his hands is flying from your thighs to clutch at the wrist of the hand that’s leaving his throat. He holds you there, and you can feel the way his pulse is racing. He maintains the way he stares into your eyes, but this time his are wide, almost as if in fear that you’d actually get up and leave.

“Try again.” You don’t change the way half your weight is off him, but you let him hold your wrist.

“Whatever you want, goes.” He swallows slowly before speaking again, “Will you just–Will you please sit back down?”

He doesn’t let go of your wrist.

You ease yourself back into his lap and run your free hand in between you till you reach his erection. It sends a thrill through you to feel just how excited he is by all of this. You want to hear him say please again, you want to see how far you can push your luck with him in the palm of your hand. You want him to beg.

You laugh lightly, if not a bit cruelly, as you squeeze his cock over his jeans, “Does this turn you on, Rhett?” You pause to watch how his pupils dilate at your tone before pressing on, “Not much of a big, bad, man now, are ‘ya?”

To your surprise, that doesn’t set him off. Most men wouldn’t let you put your hand around their throat, much less question just how much of a man they are. But he barely reacts beyond his chest rising and falling, his hands moving back to fully settle on your thighs and this time, gripping tightly.

“Like I said, whatever you want, sugar–I just want ‘ya to use me. Be good for something,” He licks his lips and exhales shakily, “Be good for you.”

Jesus. His sincerity bleeds through in the way his face is flushed and he maintains steady eye contact. He doesn’t waver for a single moment.

Something sick twists in your chest. Never before has a man been so willing, so pliant, for you. They’ve always tried to take what they want from you, always tried to make you submit. But what you actually wanted was this, Rhett’s eyes gazing pleadingly up at you while you sit in his lap.

“So this is what you wanted all along, huh? Always following me around, playing pranks on me, just wanted me to get my hand around your throat and use you?” You’re goading him on, trying to discern exactly what he wants you to say, what he’ll let you get away with.

With that, you lean close as if to kiss him and he closes his eyes lightly in anticipation, but at the last second turn your head so you can drag the tip of your nose across his cheek. The shudder that runs through him at the feather-light sensation is delicious; it makes you laugh lightly at how affected he is. His breaths are starting to come heavier, already betraying him if he tried to hide how badly he wants this. But he isn’t hiding, not in the slightest.

Now that you’re this close to him, the scent of him is overwhelming. It floods your mind and makes you almost lightheaded as you realize just how badly you want him. Part of it is that he’s so pliant, so willing, but the other part is the truth of the matter that you finally have to admit to yourself: you don’t hate Rhett Abbott.

In fact, his whole years-long performance has only meant that his constant presence is lingering somewhere at the forefront of your mind regardless of whether he’s around or not. When you’d gone off to college, those nine months had been odd without him around. You’d half expected him to show up to walk you between lecture halls or push some frat boy off you at a party.

(What you don’t know is that Rhett did almost go out to visit you. He’d looked at plane tickets, at how long it might take him to drive. He decided against it when he remembered every time you’d rejected him or told him to, very unkindly, “fuck off”.)

“Can I kiss ‘ya?” His voice is rough and he licks his lips again, like it’s a nervous habit.

You press a gentle kiss to his cheek and giggle softly to yourself when he whines and says, “That’s not what I meant and y’know it.”

Finally, you press your lips to his. They’re soft and warm and he’s so much better of a kisser than everyone else you’ve been with that it almost knocks the wind out of you. But he keeps you grounded, especially when his hand moves up to your jaw so he can coax it open. The way he licks into your mouth makes you let out a startled gasp.

You don’t expect it to feel so good. It’s one thing to sit in his lap and flirt, it’s a whole other to taste him and understand why girls chase him endlessly. You can’t stop the way your hips move against his and he keeps one hand on your thigh while the other goes to your tits. His hand dwarfs your chest and he gropes you haphazardly.

“Fuck, you’re even better than I imagined,” He sighs, pushing up against the hand that’s still around his throat.

“I haven’t even taken my clothes off, Rhett.” You tease, wanting to see how far you can push him, see if you can still get a rise out of him.

But it seems he’s given up the fight now that you’re right where he wants you. He smiles gently as he pulls back to look you in the eyes, “I could finish in my pants like a damned teenager with you like this, sugar, doesn’t matter.”

Rhett Abbott, womanizer, absolute menace in your life, admitting that he’s got it so bad for you that he could come in his pants just from having you near him? You could’ve guessed that he wanted to fuck you, but you always thought it would be more of him getting his rocks off and letting you fend for yourself. It never would’ve occurred to you that this is how he’d be in the moment. Him admitting how weak he is for you makes your head spin.

You press yourself ever closer to him, licking into his mouth and trapping his hand between the two of you where it had been stroking your nipples through the thin fabric of your sundress. He manages to free it, though, and slides it down your side to where your thigh creases. He wraps it around you there and the the sheer size difference between his hand and your hip makes a twisted sort of want course in your veins.

The first press of his thumb against your clit through your panties sends a jolt through you. He keeps your hips moving in a steady rhythm against his as he works steady circles over your clit. His other hand won’t stay still as it runs up and down your back, rubs your nipples, yanks on the tips of your hair ever so slightly. It’s mind-numbingly filthy, the quiet of his house filled with both of your gasps and moans, your hand still on his neck.

“Cum for me, sugar,” Then, as if he’s anticipating your chastisement, he adds, “Please.”

Your orgasm rips through you like white hot lighting as you gasp into his open mouth and he moans right along with you. You realize you’re chanting his name over and over like a prayer, completely unwittingly. He doesn’t let up with any of his movements, prolonging your pleasure til it folds into something more biting, just on the edge of overstimulating.

“Fuck, Jesus,” He gasps, and after a moment, “I’ll be thinking ‘bout that til I die,” He rasps out, settling both of his hands on your hips and leaning his forehead against yours.

You want to tease him about taking the Lord’s name in vain but you hold back. For a moment, it’s quiet. Your hips are still against his as you take in what just happened. It begins to dawn on you that he’s still hard under you, but he isn’t making any moves to change that.

He starts to shift under you like he’s considering standing up but you stop him by leaning into him.

“Ah ah, I’m not finished with you yet,” His eyes snap to yours in surprise.

“Rhett Abbott. Tellin’ me I could make you cum in your pants like a teen boy?” You lean back ever so slightly with a light snarl on your face, finally tightening your fingers to a tight grip in a way that makes his eyes glaze over, “Prove it.”

Pressing the heel of your palm into his crotch, you watch as he eyes scrunch shut and he grinds up once, twice, three times before a he releases a shaky exhale. You watch as he comes, as he pants and whines through his orgasm, the denim under your hand growing warm and wet. He doesn’t stop grinding and thrusting up against your hand til it draws a pained moan from him.

“Can I–Can I keep going?” He tries to make eye contact but his eyes are too unfocused from pleasure, “Like it when it, ah, when it hurts.”

God, this is what you’ve been missing out on the whole time? You let yourself rock steadily in his lap as he grinds up against your hand and leans forward to kiss you messily. You wonder if he let the other girls he’s been with do this to him. But something tells you that isn’t the case–you really don’t want it to be.

The whines and gasps he’s letting out as he’s writhing below you are something from your most far-fetched fantasies. You’re only slightly stunned as you feel him get hard again below you, though it seems to draw out the pain more than the pleasure given the way his face twists up and the hiss he lets out. All at once he settles; and then he goes to lift your wrist away from his crotch.

It’s terribly tender, the way he pulls away from you to press a kiss to the palm of your hand and smile widely at you. You almost get whiplash.

“What are you playin’ at?” You can’t help but settle back into your old ways–the Rhett Abbott you’ve known for so long has only really been around to aggravate you, the heartfelt way he’s looking at you sets you off kilter.

When he laughs at the way you’re starting to get irritated, you try to pull your hand from his to no avail and it makes the heat rise in your face, “Knock it off, Rhett. You’re bein’ an asshole.”

But he just keeps smiling at you as he pulls your other hand off his neck so that he can place both on his shoulders and cradle your face, “You’re so beautiful.”

As if anticipating the way you’re going to react to his words, he pulls your face to his so that he can press your lips together once again. It’s nothing like before. Before it was all tongue and your lips barely meeting through the gasps and moans being pulled out of you. This time it’s something so warm, so delicate, it makes your chest hurt in a different way.

“I hate you, Rhett Abbott,” You manage to gasp out once he pulls away fully, a sparkle in his eyes. It doesn’t have any heat to it, lacks all the rage it used to–this time, it just sounds like you might be trying to tell him you love him.

He ignores you in favor of standing with you still in his arms and declaring, “Come on, let’s go get cleaned up and go to bed.”

Somewhere between your orgasm and when he kissed you that final time, you think he might’ve figured it out too–that you don’t hate him and maybe you never have. Because you let him carry you through his dark home without protest. You let him undress you wordlessly, without fanfare and without ogling your naked form. He simply drops your soiled clothing into a laundry hamper and starts undressing himself.

You watch him strip as he turns on the shower and gestures for you to follow him in when he steps in. For just a second you stare at him, halfway in and halfway out from under the stream of water, the way he’s staring at you expectantly.

He still has that bruise on his cheek from where James Earl hit him what feels like a lifetime ago. His knuckles are still split in some places, just turning that particular shade of red in others. He’s a goddamn vision under the yellow and white fluorescent lights of his bathroom. It makes you want to hold your breath for fear that you’ll disturb the moment somehow.

The shower proceeds without a hitch. It’s oddly lacking sexual tension, though you notice that he’s still half hard. You have half a mind to sink to your knees and suck him off, just to prove your point, just to show him you mean business. But the way he gently washes you as if he’d done it a million times before stops you. You let him clean you up between your legs without a protest.

When he opens the bathroom cabinet to reveal various creams and lotions after you’ve both stepped out and wrapped yourselves in towels, you feel yourself start to get angry. Is he seriously showing you all the products he buys for all the other girls he brings home?

Instead, he smiles sheepishly at you and rubs the back of his neck, “You always smell so good, I spent ages tryin’ to figure out which one you were usin’. Just bought all of ‘em at some point.”

You feel floored as the fight leaves your body. You don’t have a way to be upset about that. Wordlessly, you pick up one of the bottles tucked in the second row and hand it to him.

“It’s this one.”

The grin that spreads over his face is one of such genuine happiness it makes you want to squeal and run for the hills at the same time. You wonder distantly if he’ll ever stop making you feel like that–simultaneously like a trapped animal and like you’re the only girl he’s ever seen. You wonder if this (there’s a ‘this’?) will last long enough for you to find out.

He lends you one of his shirts and you’re pleased to find out that it does hold his smell. It sits long on you, settling around your knees, making you feel just a bit like a sexy ghost with the way it hugs your chest. He pulls on a pair of briefs before flicking off the overhead light and then throwing back the covers and patting the space next to him.

“You’re a vision for a blind man, sugar,” His voice carries through the otherwise silent room, “Now come to bed.”

It’s something out of a daydream, climbing into bed with Rhett Abbott. You’re immediately enveloped in his scent, the way his arm lays heavy around your waist and pulls you close to him. For once, you don’t fight him.

“You okay there, sugar? Been awfully quiet.” His voice is low right next to your ear before he turns away momentarily to turn off the bedside table light. His arm is back around you in an instant.

Wiggling yourself around in his arms, you turn so that the two of you are nose to nose. He smiles that smile again, the one that fills you with warmth and makes your stomach twist. There’s barely enough light from outside to really see him as your eyes adjust to the dark, but you know his face.

“I don’t think I hate you.”

He starts laughing. It shakes his shoulders and makes the bed creak. His eyes screw up and you can feel the way his stomach moves against yours. You feel your shoulders go up by your ears and you try to pull away, embarrassed that he’s laughing.

“I’m sorry, sugar, c’mere,” He tugs you even closer to him than before, if possible, “I’m not laughin’ at you, I’m laughin’ only ‘cause I never hated you. I don’t really think you hated me either.”

“Hey!” You’re indignant, “Rhett Abbott, who’re you to tell me how I feel?”

“Alright, alright, sugar, I’ll take ‘yer word for it. My heroics do it for ‘ya?” You barely catch the way he winks at you in the dark, but it makes you want to bite him in retaliation.

“The way you almost got the snot beat outta ‘ya? Sure.” Scoffing, you turn yourself over so you’re facing away from him again, only you don’t move out of his arms.

He huffs lightly in protest, but lets it go in favor of nuzzling into your hair and pressing his lips to the crown of your head. It sends a warm sort of heat through you. You’re not ready to fully give in to him yet, but you think he might be growing on you. You’ll just have to see.

#walk him like a dog bitch walk him like a dog #rhett abbott #outer range #rhett abbott x reader #rhett abbott fanfiction #rhett abbot smut #rhett abbott x you #outer range fic #outer range fanfic #outer range fanfiction #no use of y/n

433 notes · View notes

bubuslutty · 10 months

Text

hc: witch!reader x 141 (+ Ale, Rudy, König, Horangi) as monsters

A monster's high

word count: 1.5k

tags: they/them pronouns, poc friendly, 3rd person pov, proof read by me so sorry for any mistakes, nsfw, fluff

warnings: a bit of body horror

a/n: i initially meant for this to be fluffy but uhhh I guess I'm a whore 🥰 enjoy either way!!! 💙 pls if u wanna see anything pls let me know, cuz I just want more excuses to talk abt monster cod mw2 guys!!

Soap (werewolf):

Johnny has a habit of scenting his witch when they have to go somewhere without him, and he claims it's to keep them safe from other monsters. but does he really need to rub his face all over their tummy and ass??

Johnny's witch takes care of him during his ruts by brewing him teas for his stomach aches. and provides him with their worn clothes so he can have familiar and comforting scents around him when he's rutting.

Soap also likes to hang out with his witch during nights on a full moon, so he can turn and run in the forest. and sometimes they even play catch with him, by throwing a stick and he runs after it, getting it for her, for pets and praises, tail wagging and all.

Ghost (symbiote):

Simon Riley is pretty cool, kind and pleasant to hang out with, Ghost on the other hand is dark in a weirdly attractive way (monster fucker alert). Ghost doesn't really have a form, they're just a mass of black matter that merges and melts into Simon's pores, but also has a voice of its own.

Reader has gotten used to Ghost jumping in on conversations when they're talking with Simon. And has even gotten used to Ghost threathening (flirting) to eat them (??). While Simon always apologises about Ghost, reader hasn't figured out if Ghost wants to eat them literally or sexually.

Reader has also gotten used to walking around Simon's place and being suddenly pulled into a dark corner by a cold tentacle attached to Simon's symbiote. Then asked in a very ominous voice "Can you get orange juice from the corner store? Simon can't, too tired."

Reader shrugs and nods, "Okay." while being held up in the air by dark matter.

"Thank you." Ghost whispers, their voice raising all the hairs in reader's body.

Price (Dragon hybrid):

he can breathe fire, but doesn't allow himself to so he satiates the urge with cigars. Breathing fire is a hazard and can put others around him in danger, and he can accidentally destroy his belongings by allowing the tickle of a flame leave his throat.

But sometimes he slips up, for example when he's balls deep in reader (don't ask me how we got here). They were curious about what it'd be like fucking a dragon hybrid and how can Price say no to those pretty eyes?

It happens when he's about to orgasm, and he feels fire tickle his throat, and when he can't swallow the urge back, he throws his head back and let's out fire escape his lips, blowing it upward so it doesn't catch on anything.

And then when reader realises what he just did, he gets shy about it. Usually he doesn't spit fire when he fucks someone, but reader doesn't need to know that.

Gaz (Crow harpy hybrid):

first of all, Gaz has the prettiest, softest feathers. They're black but Show different colours when lights hit them in different angles. And reader spends a lot of time just admiring them and caressing them while he plays his favourite video game.

And when they accidentally press on the feathers a bit too hard, he jumps and grabs their wrist, "Don't do that again, please."

"Did I hurt you? I'm sorry." Reader apologises

"You didn't, they're just a bit sensitive… That's all." Gaz mumbles and they nod, resuming caressing his feathers in the gentlest way possible as Gaz resumes his game and tries to ignore the tingle at the base of his spine, making him shudder and heat up.

Horangi (Tiger shifter):

at first he scared reader because when they first met him, he was in his tiger form napping in the living room when reader walked in, completely clueless with a bunch of ingredients for a potion in their arms, "I got the-"

They used all of their strenght not to drop everything in their arms because the ingredients are expensive while they stood, facing a sleeping tiger, taking up the whole couch.

The tiger quickly noticed their presence and woke up, lazily blinking and letting out a big yawn, revealing a sharp set of teeth and reader readied themselves to cast a spell if the tiger was to ever attack or try anything.

The tiger kept staring at reader until they got bored and stood up on the couch, and shifted just like that, fur flipped into pink soft skin and bones reshaping themselves in real time.

And so reader was face to face with a naked man in the middle of Soap's living room.

König (eldritch):

König wears a huge diy'ed mask on his head, covering red and black smooth salty skin and tentacles. Sometimes he lets them hang outside the mask, poking and prodding this and that when he's comfortable, but most of the time they're hidden, out of sight.

Reader has yet to figure out where all of his tentacles come from, they know they come from his head, from the area that would be considered his chin and jaw if he had one, like a beard that has a mind of its own.

They've seen peeks of König shirtless a couple of times, but couldn't see any extra limbs or tentacles coming out of his skin, so how earth does he manages to wrap them in huge long tentacles? Where do they come from??

They've asked König of course, but all he did was smile, his eyes shaping half moons, patt their head and walked off without a word.

Alejandro (werewolf):

The only other werewolf in the bunch apart from Johnny. This man has also an obsession with scenting reader after Johnny scented them just to get a rise out of him.

He's territorial of course, very protective and loves to bite and nip at reader when they let him. Be it their hips, waist, tummy or ass, he'll happily sink his teeth in any part of their body as long as they let him.

He's also allergic to wearing clothes when the sun shines, if Alejandro senses that summer is very near, he'll strip to his boxers and hang around in all of his tan and hairy glory.

And reader is only human, when they see him like that, their heart skips a beat and they quickly leave the room Alejandro or otherwise he'll somehow smell them getting aroused.

And Alejandro doesn't even need to smell their arousal to know they're affected, because he can hear their thumping heart when he focuses his hearing.

They also try to avoid him when they've had their back blown by a local resident monster (only Soap's pack tho, no one else or they'll (141 & Co.) have a mental breakdown lmao) because he can smell the cum plugged inside them. and even when they've showered, washed away all traces of sex, he still can smell it underneath all the soap, lotion and body mist. And when he does smell it, he corners them and bullies them into telling him how it went down while they whine and beg him to let them go (they actually love it dw guys, ale would let them go as soon as they express real discomfort)

Rudy (human):

The second human in the pack after reader. While reader is a witch and in tune with the spiritual and supernatural world, Rudy can't feel shit. like nothing at all. everyone might be on edge because they can smell someone's heat and he'd be sitting there absolutely oblivious, at least reader is knowledgeable enough to know the signs of a heat or rut without smelling it.

Reader might be reluctant to go somewhere because they feel like the vibes are off, or the place is cursed and haunted, and Rudy would shrug and go in to retrieve whatever must be retrieved.

Rudy could be checking himself out in a mirror while a spirit would be looking right back at him and reader is just standing there, uncomfortable while he hums and fixes his hair and the spirit is highly confused because how the fuck isn't he being seen by the dumb very handsome human?

He's the type of guy who'd brush off any attempt at scaring him or cursing him without a second thought, a witch would try to curse him by planting a little pouch under his door matt and Rudy would absolutely have no idea and would never step on the matt at his doorstep because his legs are long and he never needed to step on it in the first place, he even has another one inside his house as well, it's just there to look nice really, so the curse never took effect in the first place until reader shows up and hisses in disgust, immediately finding the pouch for Rudy and throwing it away.

Even when a demon is actively trying to cause him nightmares, Rudy doesn't even notice because every night our boy passes out on werewolf knot, brain melted out of his ears, he barely has the energy to open one eye so it's impossible for his brain to conjure up dreams or be active enough so the demon can plant nightmares into his head.

I imagine Rudy getting his organs rearranged in the nastiest way possible while the invisible demon is just standing there like 🧍‍♀️😐 waiting for Rudy and the werewolf, who is probably Ale to be done so he can give him nightmares.

He's our unbothered King and I love him very much.

tag list (pls ask to be added or removed): @canadianmilkbag @angryandreadytokill @obiwankenobis-lap @goapgrim @smalldemonlover @silviafantin15 @reveluving @bobastayhigh @originalsimp @h-leigh @gxldyjess @msdrpreist @chaoticevilbakugo @Lacunaanonymoused @whore4dilfs @canadianmilkbag @ahoeformando @ray-rook

237 notes · View notes

russett-pots · 1 year

Note

tennis club senior dom minju in nothing but her sports bra and running shorts, post workout with her attire soaked in her sweat, reprimanding you for your poor performance but instead of listening you keep getting distracted by her sweaty thighjus, pitjus, and absjus, and it shows in your shorts, now dom minju is even angrier and you are gonna get punished

Special Changing Room

Kim Minju

Words: 1.5k

Tags: Pet-play, anal, humiliation kink

Happy Minju day!!! Part 2

You swing your racket then you hit the ball and it lands on the other side of the court. But then the machine shoots the next one in the far end of your side. Since you aren’t the best player you failed to hit it. Instead, you run and fall to the concrete ground. But at least that’s your set done.

You lay there exhausted. Three hours of tennis club is tiring for you and that just added to your stress from school.

“Okay, I guess that’s it for today.” Club president Eunbi says.

You stand up before you can head to your bag. Eunbi stops you. “Uhhh…is it alright if you and Minju pack up the equipment?”

“Yes, Sunbae.” You salute her.

Minju looks at you. Her expression is pissed.

“Ya! Hurry up. I have a drama to watch when I get home. Start packing up.”

You pick up the balls around the court. But you see that you are the only one doing it.

“Sunbaenim, aren’t you suppose to do something?”

“Me? I’m just here to make sure that you aren’t slacking off.”

“Yeah right! I’m always doing this.” You mumble to yourself. You have always been by yourself packing up the equipment especially if you and Minju are assigned together.

Once you are done you look around, everyone has left and probably even left the changing room. It is empty except for the one other person in the court, Minju. She is still on her phone doing whatever she is doing. You head to her and get down to your knees.

“Master. Please…I’m horny.”

“Horny? You have to do more than that…do more pet.”

You bow to her. All the way to the floor, hands on the ground. “Please master.”

“Say ‘please master’ again.”

“Please master. I want to have an orgasm.”

“Hmmm…no.”

“What?!” You look up at her. “Please master. I want your touch. Your thighs. Yours pits. Your abs.”

She takes a deep breath. It seems like she is getting turned on. “Pet. I can’t just give you whenever you want. I should be the one to tell you when we should have sex.”

You bow back then again. “Please master I want sex. I want a release.”

“What if I give you what will you give me?”

“Anything! I’ll give anything!”

“Really then.”

“Yes!”

“Strip naked.”

“Naked?”

“Yes.”

“Completely?”

“Did I stutter?”

You start undressing. First with your sweaty shirt then your drenched shorts and underwear. Now you are bare to the elements, you are wearing nothing but your shoes which Minju graciously allows you to wear.

“How are you horny if you’re soft?” Minju pouts.

“Please master. I want sex.”

“Come with me. Bring my stuff as well.”

You shuffle your way with Minju, trying to cover your private parts. But then Minju turns around and takes a picture.

“Master! What are you doing?!”

“Insurance, plus maybe I want some material at home. You looking like a tasty snack.”

Finally, you’re able to get indoors, with less chance for someone random to spot you naked. You are in the locker rooms. Minju looks at you as you instinctively head to the male showers. But Minju stops you.

“Don’t you want sex?” She leans up and whispers to your ear then licks inside.

She drags your inside and throws you to the changing room. You fall to the floor, embarrassed.

“Come on, aren’t you horny?”

“Yes, master.” You crawl your way up to her.

Minju removes her shirt, exposing her sports bra and in all its glory, her abs and pits. She removes her skirt as well. Now her thighs are presented to you as well. All sweaty and juicy.

“You know what to do.” Minju looks down at you.

You start to lick between her thighs. It is a very familiar feeling. It isn’t something you haven’t done before. You have all the experience you need to please Minju.

You lick her under her thighs then around the top. Your hands grab her legs and push it upwards.

Minju leans back and enjoys everything.

You poke your tongue at her panties. But you feel a huge slap on your face. “Not there, pet.” Minju punishes you.

You leave the already wet panties and head up to her abs. It isn’t as defined as the other club members like Hitomi or Hyewon but you’ll still enjoy this. There is a small eleven that you can see and that’s where you first go. Your taste buds lick the valley between her strong muscles. She flexes them and wiggles her body as she receives a bit of pleasure.

Then you move to her lips, kissing them. Her lips are soft. The kiss is amazing. It is ravenous and rough. But somehow very pleasurable. Minju directs your hand to her encased breasts. It may be stuck in her sports bra but you can still feel the delicate mounds.

Minju’s hand is now on your cock. She strokes it roughly and furiously. It is slightly painful but it is the sensation that you have been yearning for all day. Her hand is better than what you can ever do in your own bedroom.

“Pet, do you want pussy?”

“Yes, master. I want your pussy.”

“Very good. I’ll give you my pussy. Lie down.” She commands.

You lay on the floor, perfectly flat. Minju removes her panties. The action is seductive. Then she stuffs her panties in your mouth.

“Don’t make a single sound. I’m going to moan and you’re going to be jealous. Okay?”

You nod.

Then she impales herself with your cock. The pleasure is insane. Even if you have been in her walls several times each moment is still tight. You can feel her walls constrict your shaft.

Then Minju moves up and down. First slowly then she starts to move faster and faster. She moves up, down, forwards, and backward then left and right. Things is that still tingle you. Your tip is reaching as far as it can. Every inch going as deep as it can.

“Fuck, pet. Your cock is amazing. Why is it so good?”

You cannot answer. Her sports bra is still in your mouth. You cannot spit it out in fear that it is just going to go back in but deeper.

Suddenly Minju removes her panties from your mouth. You can take a deep breath as you are free. But it doesn’t last long as her finger goes inside your mouth. You try to keep your gag reflexes in. Her fingers are at the back of your throat.

She removes her fingers from your mouth then she grabs your hands and makes them grope her breasts. You massage them and play with them so soft and perfect that you do not want to let go.

But you let go of her breasts as she dives to your lips and kisses them. Your hand leads to her back and massages it. This isn’t a passionate kiss but since it is rough you try to keep it in.

“Pet…” Minju breaks the kiss.

“Yes?”

“Do you want anal?”

“Anal? We haven’t done that before.”

“There is always a first time.”

Minju readjust. This time her puckered asshole is now on top of your tip. It is difficult at first. Each inch going down your shaft is painful. It is even tighter than her pussy. It is like you can feel her inside get torn apart.

Finally, you are fully inside Minju’s asshole. But she doesn’t move instead she shows a face of pain. So what you do is that you carry her, still with you cocky inside her, and move her to the benches. Now you can use your own movements to thrust inside Minju. It is much easier for you to move instead to Minju. She has tried all her might be on top of you and now she is tired.

Now, you are in control. You are the one that is dictating the pace. As you are still yet to adjust to the small size, you go slowly. Each movement slowly goes deeper and deeper. But you gently increase speed. You try your best to go faster and faster. You can see Minju’s eyes show pleasure. You never thought such pain on a girl would bring delight.

Then you can feel it. Your legs grow weak. Your cock is throbbing. You are going to release your cum.

“Fuck, Master. I’m going to cum.”

Minju starts playing with her clit.

“Cum faster, pet. Cum faster.”

Now you are at full speed. You thrust as fast as you can, going at speeds you haven’t done before. All of the juices inside Minju’s body allow you to go such.

Then you shoot. All of your cum shoots inside Minju’s rectum. Your legs give way and you lay there on the floor again. Ropes and ropes of cum are now inside Minju’s ass.

You and Minju breathe heavily. You are both tired from the session.

“Sunbae…”

“Yes?”

“That was amazing…”

“Yes that was.” Minju sits up and feels the cum oozing out of her hole. “You came a lot.”

Your turn you head and see your white liquid leak out of Minju. “I did?”

“Now, let’s shower.”

You stand up and walk to the door.

Minju looks at you. “Not there silly. Let’s shower together.”

#kpop smut #izone smut #kim minju #minju smut

479 notes · View notes

thedreamsofgods · 16 days

Text

I have some uhhh, grievances. With how Hephaestus looks in Hades 2. And I'm trying to find the best way to phrase this, but I make no promises that I'll manage, because I just flat out don't know how to say what I'm trying to say. In short, I think Hephaestus should've been given facial differences.

So theres a lot of different versions of Hephaestus like with any greek god, and as such, there's a lot of different takes on how different parts of his life ago, including his birth. In some myths, he's born a healthy baby and thrown off Olympus when he's older, which injures him and leaves him permanently disabled, and that seems to be the version of events Supergiant went with, and I'm actually mad that they did? Because in the other versions, Hephaestus is born visibly disabled. Some versions refer to him as "lame"(he walks with a noticable limp, he was possibly born with clubfoot which would mean the limp was assumed at birth, though some myths suggest the limp was gained later in life), others call him "ugly", a lot of the terminology is either outdated or completely avoided because asking people to confront disability without being rude about it is too much I guess. Upon seeing the way her child looks, Hera throws him off of Olympus for being born visibly disabled. The landing further disables him in most versions of the story.

And talking around the unpleasant parts of the subject is what bugs me about his Hades 2 design.

Yes, he is visibly disabled, as in he lost his leg at some point, probably in the fall from Olympus, and he uses a wheelchair because of his prosthetic leg. But... that's it. Supergiant had a genuine good chance to depict someone with visible differences that are often looked down on and to make a character just as gorgeous as everyone else. They had the opportunity to make a very handsome man with any sort of facial differences, and they didn't for seemingly no reason. No cleft palate, no cranial differences, no vitiligo, no birthmarks, no asymmetries at all? Not even visible back problems, something many myths specify him having? They didn't even give him any scars or burns when he's the god of the forge???

There was so much room to represent a group of disabled people that rarely if ever get to see themselves depicted as attractive in the game series known for having attractive people. It's hard to not feel like Hephaestus was designed the way he is because of the developer's reputation as the attractive characters game studio. The leg and the wheelchair are well done and he represents that particular disability very well but... that's not the only disability he should represent, and it feels downright cowardly that that's the only disability he represents? I get not wanting to make Hera out to be as terrible as the myths make her out to be, but I just feel deeply disappointed with this Hephaestus design. For as careful as they were with all the gods in the first game and with all the little details and obscure touches they've paid attention to previously, they either didn't do nearly enough here, or they willingly left out so much.

If anyone in this fandom knows of a way to reach out to the developers privately with this sort of feedback, I'd appreciate it. I don't feel even remotely comfortable trying to leave this sort of feedback on a public platform outside of tumblr, and I'm really trusting yall on here to be normal about this on here. I'm putting this in the tags in the hopes that it'll reach someone who can either help me contact Supergiant or who is willing to brave the public forums and feedback locations in my stead.

[Here's a link] to a post talking about the positives of his wheelchair and leg design as a palate cleanser.

#hades game #hades 2 #hades supergiant #hades ii #hephaestus #hephaestus hades #hades 2 spoilers #because of the hephaestus pic. just in case

27 notes · View notes

thehistoriangirl · 9 months

Text

Not Just a Summer Affair [Final]

Oooof this was a hard one

Speaking of which! Do you know who else is going to get har--

Uhhh

Viktor x Fem! Reader---------4.2K----NSFW | MDNI |

> First Part > Second Part

Summary: Assisting to this planned vacation by the beach wasn’t the best idea Viktor has had, but at least he can have an excuse to spend time with you. Hoping that, maybe, he can gather the courage to confess the feelings he’s been trying so hard to bury.

Viktor was used to waking up early, when the sun barely peeked over the horizon, making the whole world a misty grey.

Though ever since you two had to share a room, he had forced himself to lay in bed until seven or eight o’clock, when Viktor could hear the faint voices of Jayce and Mel talking at the end of the hallway, the shower running against the marble tiles.

He would tiptoe out of bed and into the bathroom, carrying his clothes for the days enveloped on his towel. Sometimes, when he got out of the shower you would still be sleeping, your back turned toward him as if you knew he wasn’t fully dressed yet. On other occasions he would find the room alone, with you already downstairs helping to prepare breakfast.

This morning was different.

The sun had started hitting the light blue curtains hours ago, illuminating the whole room as if it had been reflected by the water in the backyard pool. He was lying with his gaze toward the ceiling, the usual pillow supporting his back, yet Viktor didn’t move. Too cocooned in your warmth as your body had curled up against him last night, when you told him shyly if you could sleep with him, shifting as you needed to do every time he had to accommodate his posture to avoid cramps.

Viktor patted your head, fingers grazing your cheek to wake you up as gently as he could manage.

You grumbled under your breath, eyes pressed close against Viktor’s side, taking in the aroma of his skin mixed with the smell of your shampoo, hair scattered all over.

His fingers fiddled with your hair, feeling the rich texture under his fingers. You cooed, and he chuckled, leaning to kiss your forehead. “Aren’t you a sleepyhead? I’m surprised you’re always arriving early to work.”

“That way I could be alone with you for a bit,” you mumbled, just slightly embarrassed. You liked to hear his morning voice as his answers became longer sentences instead of monosyllabic.

Viktor’s eyes were like twin morning suns gazing down at you, lips curled in the sweetest of smiles. “Very naughty of you,” he said nonchalantly, not finding it ironic in the slightest that his hand went down toward the swell of your breast, fingers already getting familiar with all the sensitive spots along your body, loving to trap your coos and moans with his lips.

He shushed you, his tongue matching the cadent rhythm of his thumb brushing around the peak of your nipple, hard and needy against your night clothes. “You wouldn’t like our friends to know what we’re doing here, would you, beautiful?" he muttered, pinching the little bud under his fingers.

You hissed, your teeth nibbling not-so-kindly over his bottom lip as Viktor tried to soothe your lewd noises with his mouth.

He hummed, his hand traveling along the curves of your breast down your waist and hip, where his hands grasped the sensible skin. “Wait here. I’ll come back in a bit.”

“No,” you whined, taking his hand to stop him from sliding away from your embrace. “Didn’t you tell me we were going to be very busy today?”

Viktor laughed, poking your sides so he could wiggle away, the sound of your laughter flooding the room, lightening it up brighter than the sun ever could. "I don't recall having to tell you doing what, though. What that dirty mind of yours had pictured, hmm?”

You frowned, throwing him a pillow. “You were very handsy last night.”

“I’d say you were the handsy one, malý zajíček. I used... other, eh, parts,” Viktor added, golden eyes with a mischievous twinkle. “Have you forgotten already?”

You blinked, feeling warm pooling down into your belly by remembering the last as if it hadn’t been circling in your brain even in your dreams. “What did you call me?”

He sneered, putting in a baggy shirt and some shorts. His cane thumped toward the door. "You'll figure it out soon enough, my love."

“If you leave now, I won’t be having sex with you!” Today, at least. It wasn’t at all fair that he had stopped you twice by now, so you couldn’t help but get grumpy. But you also knew it was a lie. You were completely at his mercy.

Viktor chuckled, the door opening to show the yellow wallpaper of the hallway. “I’m sure I’ll be able to change your mind.”

*~*~*~*

By 9 a.m. the room felt too hot to keep on the sheets you had thrown over yourself by dawn, the slight chill from last night's rain gone. You were napping, the heat making your brain fuzzy, limps drained from energy.

You didn't hear the door opening not Viktor's weight dipping the mattress until he brushed your cheek with his finger. Peeking between your half-closed eyes, you saw him sitting against the headboard.

“What?” you mumbled. “Regretting your decision already?”

“I brought us breakfast, actually," Viktor smiled, gesturing to a tray left on the night table. "I need you well-fed if you wish to have such… strenuous activities."

You bit the inside of your cheek, looking at the food that was still hot enough to leave a grey trace of mist rising toward the ceiling. Freshly cut fruit and warm bread filled the air with a succulent aroma.

Viktor took his slippers off, opening his legs and patting the mattress in space between them. “Come here.”

You pouted, sliding toward him feeling the smooth cotton of the bedsheets against the back of your thighs. His hands quickly found purchase on your hips, hugging you closer to his chest. Gentle fingers guided your chin up so he could soothe your pout with his lips.

Humming, you leaned in even closer, wiggling your hips against him, a smile curling your lips when you felt him starting to get hard and eager poking at your back.

He laughed between kisses. “You can’t get away with being so misbehaved, my love,” he muttered, his lips traveling to the beautiful curve of your neck.

Viktor grazed his teeth in the crook of your neck, there were it descended on your shoulder. The mark got red, a mewl parting your lips.

He took a bowl, porcelain clicking against his fingers when he settled it between your legs, his fingers slowly traveling down there where you wanted him, only to retrieve slices of apple that he then put against your lips, the cool fruit against your skin boiling with desire.

"Open up," Viktor whispered, his soft tone moving the hairs around your ear. The apple was green still, the juice filling your tongue. "Good girl."

You took another slice, raising it toward him. With a giggle, you repeated the command back at him.

From the corner of your eye, you saw him smiling, nibbling your fingers while biting the fruit. Humming approbatory, he squeezed your hips.

“Is it good?” you mumbled, feeding each other in a natural rhythm, with your back flushed against his chest, sensing every little move he made while chewing.

“The fruit it's sour, but you're sweet enough to compensate for it.”

You laughed. “That’s so cheesy of you.”

His eyes twinkled. “I was referring that I can still taste you in my mouth,” Viktor muttered, nuzzling his nose against your ear. “Growing fainter at each moment. I think I’ll need a reminder soon.”

It was so hard to keep eating, feeling your hands starting to shake as you took your cup of coffee mixed with sweet milk, twin to his.

“I thought you wanted to wait?” You told him, trying to muster an annoyed tone, though your voice broke in the middle of the sentence when Viktor looked at your tongue sheepishly licking the remnants of the beverage out your lips. You felt him twitch against your back, becoming harder by the second.

Your hand burned, memories of his size and the texture now tickling your fingers, pleading you to take him in your palm again.

“A professional scientist knows when to admit faulty.”

“Hmmm, and you want to be rewarded?” You said, his hand traveling from the plush skin of your hips toward the most sensible curve of one of your thighs.

He squeezed, fingertips entering where the fabric of your panties had started to feel wet. “Mmhmm,” Viktor said, his mind absent from his words and focused on the spot that was craving him, pressing against the fabric so the texture could arouse that pretty little button he liked so much.

You bit your lips to keep your mewls trapped, neck tilted to the left to let Viktor kiss the enticing curve down your shoulders.

“They’re not home,” he commented, leaving bites all over. “You can scream if you want to. And I would very much like so."

“Vik—Viktor,” you said, the fabric of your panties sticking to your flesh when his fingers peeked inside, dragging it to the side.

Just like last night, his fingers danced masterfully around your clit, so tense and aching from him already, coating his fingers on your essence before rubbing it around the bundle of nerves. You writhed against him, feeling him poking mercilessly at your back, he, too, was desperate to have you.

Viktor nibbled his way into your orgasm, painting red marks on your neck that would be impossible to hide under clothes with the boiling hot weather around the beach. Oh well, it was only a question of time for Jayce and Mel to notice that he couldn't keep his hands away from you, so inviting and loving.

The morning sun painted the scene in gold and white, heavenly; sending hues to your hair and the beads of sweat on your forehead, soaking into the neckline of your shirt, nipples pressed against the cotton. Your legs shook, back collapsing against him as your hips slowed down your sways.

Playfully, he circled your clit in the contrary direction, delighted to hear your scream echoing in the room that had only been graced with the melody of your intertwined pants.

Your hand found the hem of his shorts, slipping the palm inside of them to grasp his length, which made him stop for a moment.

A laugh rumbled through his chest, echoing in yours.

“So clever, moje láska.” He kissed your cheek. “My love.”

You matched your strokes with the circles drawn on your clit, tongues dancing in a sloppy kiss; the kind that made your core soaked, easing Viktor the entrance of his two dexterous fingers, his other hand diligently paying attention to your hard nipples, rubbing, and pinching once the skin became soft again.

Your palms became wet, too, a less sticky liquid coating your fingers once you brushed them against his tip.

Viktor grunted, pulling apart to breathe.

“Let me take care of you,” you mumbled, nails grazing his length. “Please.”

He leaned in to kiss you again. "You don't have to plead with me. Not today, at least.”

You smiled, missing his fingers inside of you when you bent on your elbows, helping him take off his shorts to expose him, his tip red and gleaming, inviting to your salivating mouth. Eyes cast upon him made him twitch, happy for the attention.

Your core was melting, feeling your essence sticking to your thighs at seeing his size when you grasped him.

Viktor breathed deeply, eyes fluttering close with each slow stroke of your hand.

“Vitya, look at me,” you told him, golden eyes blinking open to glue you there, your hips up, the small mirror of the vanity showing him how the morning light hit on your pussy, shining and swollen, aching for him.

You parted your lips, taking in his head, tasting bitter precum, your tongue circling the fat skin. Viktor groaned, the muscles of his neck tightened when you tested his size on your mouth, gagging when he hit the back of your throat.

“S-slowly,” Viktor panted. “Do it slowly, my love. I don’t… I don’t want to hurt you,” he cooed, cupping your cheek.

Obedient, you took him in and out your mouth a couple of times, each try deepening the distance you could take inside of him. Viktor grabbed the bedsheets and your hair, hips pressed against the headboard in a constant reminder not to buckle them against your mouth. Not yet, at least.

Finally, you took him as deep as you were capable of, tears brimming, tracing a wobbly path down your cheeks. But you hummed, the vibrating movement eluding an unfiltered moan out of Viktor’s lips.

Looking up at him, you started to move your head far and close. Viktor took the hint, grabbing your hair as he started moving his hips in slow motion, half-grunting, half-moaning at sensing the wet and terse texture of your mouth, eyes heavy-lidded but never closed, too focused on them observing how well you were taking him; lips soaked in your saliva just as his shaft.

How your torso was swaying too, so your hard nipples would brush the bedsheets.

“My, what did you to do me?” Viktor hissed through gritted teeth, one hand embracing your throat just enough to feel the swell form of his cock enveloped inside your throat, the other grabbing your hair. He paused, feeling the wet trail of saliva falling toward his balls. “I was a gentleman before you.”

You gagged, nails scratching his chest while your other hand found the puffy and wet folds of your cunt, matching the rhythm of his thrusts. Teary eyes looked up at him with blown-out pupils.

You were looking at him as if saying that’s a lie.

Taking your head with one hand, Viktor took your hand out your core to put your glistening fingers inside his mouth, tongue swirling in animated circles around them, nibbling and sucking while his hips buckled against your face, the tip of your nose brushing thick that you had seen peeking from his swim shorts ever since days ago.

His body shivered, every movement jerking in a broken rhythm that made your pussy clench into nothing. Viktor rumbled your name, an accent so thick you almost couldn't recognize it, and yet, you wished him to call you like that every day.

Your hand ran down his abdomen, grasping tense and heavy balls, scratching them playfully as he thrust deep into you, cocooned into your warm as he came, the grasp on your hair a strange mix between pleasure and pain.

Warm, bitter, thick liquid flooded your throat. Your hand grasped his thigh, tears running down your cheeks that Viktor hastily soothed with his thumb.

He pulled out, and you gasped, your mouth filled with the taste of him. Some of his cum had fallen out your lips, and you felt Viktor’s thumb wiping it out your cheek, the slender digit in front of your mouth for you to lick it clean.

You took it, your tongue taking in his digit, letting your tastebuds soak into his essence before he took it away with a lewd plop.

Viktor patted the side next to his body, your body crawling toward the spot. You gazed at his blushed form, a red tint that crawled from his chest up his ears. He took his pajama shirt, wiping the sweat and tears away from your cheeks as he peppered them with kisses, cooing words that you didn’t understand, though all of them were coated in love, all twinkling eyes and gentle hands soothing your still tense muscles.

You crawled next to him, still lying on the bed. Your hands around his waist.

His lips kissed your forehead. “Remember to use a hat today, alright? We’re going to the pier to have lunch in a boat. Does that sound good to you?”

You chuckled. “Don’t you think it’s too late to take me on a cute first date? One may think we’ve passed the stage already.”

Viktor frowned slightly, trying to make a coherent thought, distracted by the way you looked with the morning light illuminating your swollen lips and sleepy eyes, a vision so ethereal yet real. Just for him.

“It’s not that. You always deserve these kinds of dates.” He called your name, his thumb holding your chin gently. "You're my love—and I've wanted to do this with you ever since… well," Viktor said. “Since a long time.”

You feigned shock. "You've wanted to fuck me for a long time?"

He clicked his tongue. “Tsk. That language." But Viktor was smiling when he captured your lips, amazed at the mixing taste of him and you in your tongue. “I meant the dates.” His finger poked your forehead. “This dirty mind of yours must be punished, though.”

You beamed. “And I’m sure you’re more than eager to oblige.”

Viktor smirked. “Once around here has to put order, don’t you agree, my love?” His hands massaged your neck in gentle circles, giving you a smile that could eclipse the sun. “Now let’s go, our day has only started.”

*~*~*~*

The historical pier became your favorite spot, taking walks around the historical site near the beach, mossy rocks hit by the waves in a lulling rhythm when you two sat on the edge, feet dangling on the edge, watching the sun hide under the waves.

Sometimes your clothes would get in the rock, keeping them dry while you slid into the water, toward Viktor’s inviting embrace. His swimming lessons had nourished the courage to accompany him to soak into the cool shallow waters, a shelter from the unforgiving sun.

Today, he wanted a more tranquil activity.

Lounging in a beach chair with a book about mechanics open against his chest, though he could barely focus, while seeing you from the corner of his eyes, reading one of your questionable romance novels (he had seen some of the covers) before the sun disappeared for the day, your free hand taking his—a gesture he would've rolled his eyes to if seeing them outside his role as a participant—but it all changed when it was your hand gently taking his.

You were still wearing one of those short summer dresses, loose sleeves that make it fall from your shoulders, short enough he could peek under once his resolution to be a gentleman had worn thin and find the straps that maintained your bottom bikini tied together.

The waves lulled you enough to let your book aside once you couldn’t pay attention to the last ten pages’ contents.

“Vitya,” you told him, his eyes shooting from the book back to you. Even with the dusk almost setting, his eyes still shone bright like the morning sun. You stood up, remembering your cuddling session in bed these last days.

“Hmmm?”

He observed you, gaze low and framed by his thick eyebrows tilted in an almost amused arch when you approached him, sitting at the edge of his lounging chair like a shameless cat asking for pets, your legs carefully straddling his hips.

An automatic response overcame it, opening his arms to receive your body leaning toward him, arms tangling around his shoulders with your face nuzzled in the crook of his neck to take in his essence mixed with the sunscreen and the salty marine breeze.

Viktor chuckled, the deep rumble creating a tiny, swirling pool of hotness in your lower belly that only increased with feeling the outline of him beneath the black swimming shorts, getting half-hard from the pressure of your soft rear already.

You swallowed, your body memory starting to wiggle your hips against him, knowing that if you kept doing it, you would hear shameless sounds escaping his mouth.

“Aren’t you a little rabbit, hmm?” He tried to frown, though his mouth remained agape, wishing for another kiss. “Always so needy and shameless for me.”

You hugged him closer, your bare nipples brushing his chest. “Do you want me?” you muttered, putting on your best doe-eyed expression.

He kissed your forehead. “All the time, moje láska.” Fingers pulled the knots of your swimsuit open, pulling the fabric away altogether so it could brush your folds with the minimum of force. Your hips buckled, a happy coo music to his ears. Taking the little part of fabric between his fingers, he loved to see the wet streaks of your arouse tinting the cloth a darker shade of purple.

Viktor dipped his head toward your breasts, his tongue swirling against one little peak that was begging for his attention. You bit your lip, his golden gaze burned unholy at your exposed skin.

You took his cock out of his shorts, giving him a few strokes until you felt his precum coating the shaft.

Viktor whispered your name, feeling himself burn with the marks of his kisses and bites poured on your neck and shoulders.

Your thighs burned when you straightened, your hands guiding his head between your soaked folds, a mewl escaping your lips at the pressure. Viktor hissed, capturing your lips into a kiss, tongues dancing and his teeth nibbling your bottom lip.

It burned in a delicious, ravenous way. He filled you perfectly, walls squeezing against him, inviting him deeper into your sanctuary. Walls that will keep squeezing to take everything once he finished inside of you.

Viktor grunted, a myriad of words going through his teeth that sounded like foreign curses; fingers marking their outline on your hips.

You whimpered once you felt him hitting that spot, deeply burrowed in your wet warmth.

Distracted from your breasts, Viktor kissed your lips, a fleeting brush that ended with him nuzzling his face on the crook of your neck as you picked your rhythm, riding him until you felt your thighs burn, and then even further, muscles numb as your mind got fogged with pleasure.

Viktor shifted his posture a little, his folded towel at his back so his hips could tilt slightly, your rides hitting the point that made you moan against his ear.

You flushed your chest against his, hard nipples brushing his chest with each bounce of your pretty body. Viktor hugged you, his tongue flat against a nipple he licked each time you rode his cock. You were swaying in a rhythm of your own, like the waves crashing against the beach, your hips meeting his as the sun started to dip over the horizon.

“Moje láska,” he said, licking his lips when he noticed his mother language that had slipped through his lips.“You’re so beautiful,” Viktor muttered. Your legs had started to shake, your posture collapsing into his lap as an orgasm tampered with your rhythm.

“Viktor—," you said in a strained voice that meant to be a scream. A ripple of pure bliss enveloped you, walls tightening around his length as you came, Viktor’s teeth grazing your collarbone with lovely, yet rough kisses.

Your core pulsed, inviting, and lewd, squelchy sounds echoed through the empty coast, almost muffled by the growing force of the ocean now that the moon had started peeking between some clouds as the only witness, sending silver hues over the outlines of your bodies.

Viktor kissed your shoulder, buckling his hips against yours once he could move inside you, the gentleness of his lips contrasting with the merciless encounters of his cock against the swelled walls of your pussy.

Taking the back of the chair, you helped him to continue such a torturous pace.

Your gentle coos had become screams and curses that only made him more aroused. Feeling himself close, Viktor started playing with your nipples the way you enjoyed it, teeth barely brushing and tongue swirling, golden gaze burned into your eyes, a mischievous shimmer in them.

His free hand went from grabbing your hips to pampering your clit with his masterful circles, matching the contrary tempo of his thrusts, when his tip was the only part of him inside of you.

You screamed with no further notice, thighs shivering against his waist.

Viktor grunted, taking in your mouth when he cum, painting your rosy walls white. He nestled deep inside of you with each throb of his cock, welcoming your pulses hugging him greedily, wanting to milk his essence dry.

“Viktor?” you said, voice hoarse when you plopped on his chest. He merely hummed, the adrenaline still coursing through his veins against the placid seascape at night. “I love you.”

He turned, brushing the rebel locks of hair that had glued to your forehead. “I love you, too, my little bunny. More than anything.”

You smiled. “Stop calling me that.”

Viktor shook his head, a smartass smile curving his lips swollen from your kisses. “I’m afraid I won’t be able to, my love. You’re just as eager.”

“Hmm. Only me?”

He chuckled, his lips meeting yours again in a softer gesture filled with as much love as there was water in the sea in front of you. The moon was glowing, framing you like a goddess that had graced him with your love; the sand felt still warm against his feet. He couldn’t deny that this moment was perfect.

“Let’s stay like this forever, shall we?” he whispered, still burrowed inside of you, his cum dripping from out of you into your thighs and his. “Just you and me, on this beach, in this moment.”

You smiled, kissing his neck. “Our little eternity.”

Viktor nuzzled his nose against your neck, taking in the musky essence of your skin after having sex, mixed with his. “Our little eternity.” One he was looking forward to replicating back in the city.

#arcane viktor x reader #viktor arcane x reader #viktor x reader #arcane viktor x you #viktor arcane x you #viktor arcane smut

121 notes · View notes

mercurialmalcontent · 2 months

Text

It's Six Sentence... uhhh, Tuesday??

@lizardlicks was kind enough to tag me, it just took me a hot minute to get around to it.

How about something... original?

“All the way to the Misery Coast? What are we going to do if we get cornered, drive into the sea?” Sascha huffed a laugh. “We can throw that damned box in if we get desperate.” It didn’t sound like he was joking. “But yes, all the way here. No one in their right mind comes into an active upheaval zone, after all.”

Or from a different original story:

James settled down with his laptop and picked at his meal as he skimmed the NC Investigators forum. The thread about the recent murders was busy, but frustratingly everyone seemed to be talking around the actual details of the show. After scrolling past a handful of gross troll posts and what felt like the hundredth post about how these were just copycat murders because only children thought a ten-year anniversary held any supernatural significance, he made a snippy post of his own. I hate to interrupt your fun burying your heads in this dead horse you’re beating, but does anyone have a transcript or summary of tonight’s show? I want to form my own conclusions, not join the chorus of “Nothing to see here.” The resulting flame war ate an entire hour and only ended when a moderator locked the thread and issued warnings to everyone, except the trolls saying that ‘culling the population’ was good, actually.

Or... perhaps some fanfic?

It always goes like this: You wake up on a nautiloid, trapped in a pod, and witness a room full of other trapped people having disgusting worms forced into their eyes by bizarre, squid-like beings (mindflayers, one of the few intact parts of your brain provides). At some point they land and let you out -- confused commoners, monsters, and yourself. You fight although you don't understand why, you fail, you're brought back to a woman who smells of meat and rot who you hate even though you don't know why, she brutalizes you, and you die in a sickening room in a crumbling temple that is familiar for reasons your ruined brain can't place before your life slips away in anguish and fear. You wake up on a nautiloid. You wake up on a nautiloid, trapped in a pod. You wake up on a nautiloid, trapped in a pod, and witness a weird-looking green skinned girl having a worm forced into her eye by a mindflayer. This is new, you think. She wasn't there before.

(I cheated, that one is seven sentences.)

I tag anyone who wants to do this (and if you're thinking "Gee I wish they'd tag me in something" then TAG YOU'RE IT! Give me the goods!!)

#memes #absolution (novel)#the dreaming dark (setting)#setting i have yet to find a name for #baldur's gate 3

8 notes · View notes

oraclebabsday · 5 months

Note

um hello!! im very new to comics, but of the characters I’ve seen so far, I really like Barbara and I was just wondering if you had any comic recommendations on where to start..? its very confusing trying to get into it all, but I’d like to be able to hold a conversation about someone I find interesting with my boyfriend so I can hear him info dump on me more cus he’s deep into dc so :)

Hi!!! That is so sweet omg 😭 Welcome to the weird wonderful world of comics!!! and also i’m so sorry for what I’m abt to throw at you lmao

Since you’ve sent this ask into an Oracle-centric blog, I’m gonna keep this rec list Oracle!Babs-centric (& also encourage my fellow mods to add on if they also have some recs!) I actually don’t have a whole lot of recs for Batgirl!Babs anyways, but I’ll be tagging my gen dc blog at the end in case you’d like to talk abt those or any other characters!

Also before I get Into the recs, I wanna give you some words of encouragement: there’s no right or wrong way to read! You’re also likely gonna have some well a lot of confusion at the beginning, esp bc there will be Events™️ that have ramifications™️ and you’re not always given full context of what’s come before or what’s happening concurrently with what you’re reading. I’ve been doing this for awhile and if I’ve learned anything, it’s that the more that you read & explore, the more fun you’ll have & the more things will usually start to make sense! But it’s all gotta start somewhere first! :D and you’ve def chosen a great character to be your launching point!

Im gonna be hopping around a bit in my recs here but I’ll try to keep it mostly in chronological order. That said, first up:

Suicide Squad (1987) - she appeared semi-regularly starting in #23! This was also her debut as Oracle! I really enjoyed the overall run & would normally highly recommend it, but also want to warn that it’s a pretty heavy read in terms of content itself (canon-typical violence ofc esp for a SuiSq comic, discussions of suicide ideation, period typical stereotyping/‘subversion’ of said stereotypes, but that’s a deeper discussion for a different blog) For that reason, I don’t necessarily recommend it for a first-time reader, esp if you’re wanting to solely focus on Babs. Team books usually aren’t super great when you’re reading for an individual character, in my experience, esp in a case like this where the character isn’t always necessarily part of the team or appears sporadically enough to disrupt the flow of following a storyline.

Birds of Prey (1999) - This team book breaks that prev rule tho, bc Babs is the leader & is in Damn near every issue of this run 😂 There’s several smaller team-ups before the main ‘99 run (BoP:Manhunt, BoP:Wolves, etc), which are also good as a prelude before the main run itself. This will be the longest thing that will give you a LOT to parse through & ymmv with a lot of it. (Dixon & Simone are the most prominent writers for it & without getting Into It they each have their Issues™️ & Crimes™️) It also crosses over with a few events/references others. Imo it’s a good window into what comics are like overall, esp when you get into a longer run with multiple writers at the helm. But it has an added bonus of keeping a pretty small cast at its forefront (for about half the run, it’s solely Babs n Dinah!) It also has a follow-up run in 2010 which is broken up by-

Oracle: The Cure - (technically a 3-issue mini-series but!!!) this one’s a culmination of Oracle & Calculator’s (it’s not rivalry? That can’t be the right word… Uhhh, nemesis-sitch?) from BoP & leads right into bringing Babs back to Gotham in Steph’s Batgirl run as well as the next BoP run I mentioned just a sec ago. It’s what I like to call connective (t)issues lol. Ymmv I think depending on if you’ve read BoP ‘99/TT ‘03 beforehand, but I hadn’t read a lot of TT before reading it at the time, and I enjoyed it a lot!

A couple individual issues I wanna suggest:

Batman Chronicles #5 - Oracle: Year One!!!!! Cannot rec this one enough!!! In lieu of reading Killing Joke (which really only serves Bruce, Joker, Jim Gordon’s characters) read this!!! LICHERALLY her origin in coming into her own as Oracle!!! This one is THE place to start, actually, before you read anything start here 😂

Batman: Gotham Knights #6 - okay, this one is admittedly a self-indulgent rec. Without spoiling the plot, it’s CLASSIC soap-opera level shit. The TENSION at play & the layers of Bruce & Babs dynamic, the messiness of the batfam!!! 👌 *chefs kiss* GK as a run in general too was a LOT of fun for me & Babs is a pretty prominent player in much of it, but this issue rlly takes the cake for me ngl

And to tie it all together for an extra couple of Important Event recs that you’ll run into esp if you pick up BoP first:

Batman: No Man’s Land - okay, this event was a Behemoth. It’s a LOT to read, but it is REALLY good imo as a launching point for where Bat-comics were at the start of the millennium. Babs takes the narrative role SO many times throughout & she rlly comes into her own by becoming a linchpin for the info system she builds for the batfam. Again, I don’t wanna discourage you when I say it’s a Long read, bc it’s well worth it imo, but also 100% okay to skip when you’re just starting out! It’s a big time sink!

Batman: Officer Down - okay put away the meme forJUST A SEC, our old friend Jim Gordon’s been shot & it’s up to Batma- oh wait bruce sulks by Jim’s bedside while Babs rallies the troops and GETS SHIT DONE to find who shot her dad? INTERESTING 🧐 In all seriousness tho, & compared to NML, this is a much easier bite-sized event that can give you a taste of what Event/crossoverComics™️ are generally like 👍

Bruce Wayne: Murderer?/Fugitive - okay so, take that same energy of the batfam having to Put In The Work to help Bruce out & flip it around bc now Bruce is the Main Suspect. The drama, the Intrigue™️. Pretty much everyone in the fam gets a moment to shine & this is def peak of how Babs fits into the fam during this era. This one runs a bit on the longer side & babs is again, more of a support role here, but god damn I loved it a lot!

I feel like I’m obligated to at least Mention Batman: War Games, mostly to note that it finally shakes the foundation of Oracle being the batfam’s main support (her CLOCKTOWER gets nerfed in this event 😭) If you read all of BoP and skip over this event & then are confused abt why Babs is suddenly being ejected from Gotham, just remember that her clocktower gets blown up, Steph dies, Bruce n Babs have a falling out & that’s basically why Babs starts flying around the country & settles in Metropolis for a bit instead of going back to Gotham. I reread this event at least once a year bc it gave me brainworms, I can not in good conscience recommend it to anyone bc no one understands her (War Games) like i do 💕 Godspeed if you decide to read it o7

Other recs/mentions:

Batgirl (2000) - okay if you end up reading NML, you’ll be introduced to Cass in it, & this run picks up with her. Babs is in it a LOT at the beginning as supporting cast to Cass (up to War Games ofc, but I won’t say much more abt that lol) I’m ngl, when I was trying to get more into comics, this run was what HOOKED me

Batgirl (2009) - so in a similar vein, Babs also features as a support for Steph too in her batgirl run. It’s… different from Cass’ run, but I also rlly love this one too. And also am forever bitter that the Batgirls run didn’t realize their potential BUT WE’RE NOT GETTING INTO THAT HERE.

Gonna mention Batman: Gotham Knights one more time bc again, while Babs isn’t a main focus, I think it’s rlly good at tying the batfam together during that era & giving a reader glimpses into other characters/dynamics. I think I got more out of it after I had read a few other runs from this time period (namely Robin, Azrael & some prominent stuff with Huntress), but can also see it as a potential launching point for new readers too 👍 if you wanna get more into the batfam/Batman but are intimidated by the Big Runs, this can potentially be a good bridge!

Gonna rapid fire mention that Babs as Oracle has a lot of appearances in Robin (93), Nightwing (96), JLA (96), Azrael (95) and obvsly Batman/Detective Comics from the 90s into 00s. I’ve read a few of these runs, and ymmv depending on how attached you may get to certain characters. But that’s what comics is all about! Getting attached and exploring other characters n teams n stuff!

A Gen note that I wanna end on: I wasn’t exaggerating when I said earlier abt how the more you read the more you’ll have fun. I can’t even begin to count the number of times that I’ve read something from a 90s/00s comic & was essentially jumpscared by a sudden Oracle cameo that I wasn’t expecting! She pops up in so many things throughout the universe at the time!!! She was THE info broker for all the supers!!! It makes me so insane that DC threw that all away to magi-cure her and demote her back to batgirl when she had grown so much 😭

anyways I hope you have fun!!! And again if you’re ever looking for other recs my more Gen dc blog is @dyketectivecomics! If my fellow mods or anyone else have some recs to add or to dispute haha, I’ll be tagging this so others can see/rb/reply to add their recs too 👍

Okay! \o/ that’s all I got for now! Happy reading anon!!!!

#barbara gordon #oracle #oracle day #birds of prey #reading rec #~randy #added a cut bc length 👍 and to add a warning that this isn’t just a list #I wanted to include some commentary bc having a reading list is good sometimes #but also having a Guide™️ is what I’m ultimately aiming for when I’m curating my lists now in 2024 #esp bc I’m gonna be revamping the duke list soon but THATS a convo for the duke blog 😂#okay enough tag rambles. I hope this helps anon! sorry it took a Hot Sec!#you sent this right as the holidays were swinging at me full force 😭

14 notes · View notes

serenanymph · 7 months

Text

find the word tag

tagged by @space-writes over here, with the words gentle, subtle, ample, and substantial. gonna tag uhhh @halfbit, @faytelumos, @writingamongther0ses, @lyssa-ink and @reneesbooks with the words silence, section, shallow and shatter!

gentle

Iri drops the man back onto the ground, and Beatriz stares at the spike dissolving into the soil with a hiss, turning it black and gooey. There’s a layer of dust hovering above the ground, kicked up from all of the commotion, and she barely has the presence of mind to guide in a gentle breeze, clearing the area so they won’t launch into a coughing fit mid-battle. Any moment now, the Noxx will be coming, but all she can do is stare at the man. The man who had just used the same kind of magic Noxx possess.

subtle (surprisingly this came from the most recent paragraph, though written when I was half-asleep so it makes less sense than usual. does this count as a last line tag I have way too many of those in my drafts)

She plunks the sole chunk of lirstone they have left in the center. The light throws stretching, malformed shadows onto the surrounding walls, paints everyone’s faces in pale, washed-out grey that almost makes them look ghostly. The tunnel stretches before them, winding and dark and no different from every other tunnel they’d passed through. They’d been sticking to the larger ones, the ones that sloped upwards, in the hopes of finding another exit, but she can barely notice any change. She hopes it’s just because of how subtle the transition had been; not because they’ve been going in circles.

no ample, but I did find one instance of plenty

“He’s a kid,” Icarus says. “He’s the same age as us,” she retorts. “That’s plenty old enough to make a decision like this, especially when you’re half Beast. Hell, look at Crys – he’s had anti-Beast values drilled into him since he was a kid. Didn’t stop him from seeing you like an actual person and helping you,” Rhyme points out, though her expression is a little sour. “But the Witchhunter’s Mutt? You saw what went down just now. He hates your bloody guts.”

substantial

Around her, magic flares – Icarus – tugging at the wind, too panicked to actually do anything substantial save for generate a weak breeze, grip dulled by his scattered focus and the fact that he’s currently struggling not to start flipping head over heels.

taglist (lmk if you want to be +/-): @deer-in-headlights-stare, @allianaavelinjackson, @arctic-oceans, @space-writes, @reneesbooks

11 notes · View notes

mysterypond · 7 months

Text

20 Questions for Fic Writers

Tagged by @hxhhasmysoul and @subdee

Going to do a hxh specific one here since that's what y'all are here for, then I'll do a more general one on 98

1. How many works do you have on ao3?

69- hxh

98-total

2. What’s your total ao3 word count? 340,320 total

3. What fandoms do you write for?

HxH - 2021-2023

Ensemble stars - 2023

Everything else is just one-offs

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

5) There Were Two Beds -killugon fluff

4) AITA for asking my fiancé not to sleep in dirt? -hisoillu crack

3) Time x Goes x On -killugon fluff

2) From Me x To You - my killugon letters fic

1) Would Kira have gay sex? - with a whopping 15,103 kudos this fic blows everything else out of the water and contributes to more than 50% of any of my overall fic statistics except for word count. I call it Fics Georg. It is an outlier and should not be counted.

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Always. I appreciate the effort people put into commenting, so typically I try to respond with the same effort level as they put in.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Probably Re x Do or Judgement x Day tbh

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Uhhh From Me x To You is probably a good one,

8. Do you get hate on fic?

All the time lol. If you ever see comment moderation on one of my fics just assume something bad happened there.

9. Do you write smut?

Yes and no, I usually use nsfw fics on this account for nsfw humor or as a backdrop for introspection. I don't expect anyone to get off reading them but if you can, more power to ya.

10. Do you write crossovers?

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Yep! Multiple times lmfao

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yep

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

@amagiis and I wrote this one :3 written in the moonlight and painted on the stars

14. What’s your all-time favourite ship?

For hxh.... probably Paridling. @jyuanka has a chokehold on me for this ot3 xD if you want an introduction go read A History

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but probably won’t?

Actually if y'all are curious I'll just drop two here

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1gY8AqF9L7O6vCunl-r5HLLZ6Vv6XF5u8F6aDzDmIWHo/edit?usp=sharing - Pre-canon Ging/Cheadle meeting

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1QCG2tmuK2D_6skO261llt4H2ihisC9H2QpXPat2vd8c/edit?usp=sharing - this was going to be my hxhbb23 fic before I got nuked by irl stuff and then took an indefinite hiatus from writing hxh fic, I'm just like togashi lol maybe I'll finish this one in 4 years

16. What are your writing strengths?

Tbh I feel I'm skilled at most aspects of writing but the ones I would stay outshine the others are my wordplay and my dialogue.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Biting off more than I can chew. I seldom finish the multichapters I plan, which is why I usually wait until I finish writing it to post.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

I do it all the time if applicable idc. I'm trilingual, and know bits and pieces of like another 4, I'll throw translations into the notes but I don't see why people get annoyed with it. There's plenty of fics on ao3 lol.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

pokémon... in like, 2007....

20. Favourite fic you’ve written?

Five x Star x Service - pariging coffee shop au.

I usually only like "aus" (excluding canon divergence stuff, I typically enjoy that) if I write them xD

Anyhow, I tag.... the people I mentioned earlier lol @amagiis & @jyuanka and anyone else who wants to do this :3 y'all can @ me and say I tagged if u feel awkward about it

#wil x wil

10 notes · View notes

longeyelashedtragedy · 4 months

Note

For the send a character ask: Granit Xhaka XD

@perfectpiety here you go!!!

favorite thing about them: HOW to even answer this??? i think granit might be as close to "perfect" as a human can get. first of all let's get out of the way how stupid gorgeous he is and has been for basically his entire adult life--my personal favorite granit aesthetic era is his early bratty twink time at arsenal (if he's wearing 29, you know he's extra fine) but he's stunning in any era. his cheekbones should probably be arrested. the side dish to this is how fucking awful he looks in his selfies 😂 he's way too young to take such bad photos of himself. there's some legend that quilters would purposely make a mistake in their quilt to show humility--that only god can be perfect--while i don't know if this is a true story, maybe granit's selfies are the contemporary version of this 😂

as for the REST of it...

who the fuck is this man? he's so strong and solid while not being an asshole, toxic man with no emotions. he operates on a value system that feels almost archaic sometimes, but in a good way, like he'd probably lie his nice coat over a puddle for mikel to step on in the rain. he truly seems to have the most golden heart. But he has a heart of molten gold—more lethal than the hard form. More alive. Overtaking everything it touches. His natural leadership and charisma are truly insane. My sister is a little like him in this way, and it's always truly fascinating to watch--someone who just naturally commands the attention, leads a conversation, even the most experienced and hardened team captain seems to defer to granit for the team talks. while "taking over everything and commanding the attention" is often a really annoying and unlikeable quality, for people for whom it comes that naturally you can't even hate them for it because they're not trying to be pushy or an asshole. they're just a born leader.

i also used to think he was kind of a himbo, but i feel like i owe him an apology because he actually seems quite intelligent and serious. he's one of those footballers who can give an actual academic subject answer for "what was your favorite subject in school" (math lol)

least favorite thing about them: that he DOESN'T PLAY FOR ARSENAL ANYMORE

favorite line: anytime he calls mikel a "freak, in a positive way"? in his open mic video during covid season, where someone scores and he goes "FUCK ME! THAT'S FOOTBALL GUYS!" uhhh...his entire "if you don't have the balls to play, stay home" speech in 2022? when he told alex iwobi "i only listen albanian music" in his #29 days cause that was such a lie lmao. in terms of international duty: when he was hyping up the team before the penalties vs france in euro 2020 and yelled "WE ARE CLEARLY THE BETTER TEAM HERE". or...most iconically...looking at the serbian bench and mouthing "Ta qifsha nonen ne pidh"...thanks to my scholarly pursuits of albanian i did not need a translator for that ;). or wait...in colney carpool...whatever the fuck that weird thing he said about giraffes was 😂

brotp: well...granit and his actual brother taulant? hahaha. i love him with anyone he was friends with at arsenal (gabby j modelling his clothing line, anyone?) with carlos cuesta, with ricci rodriguez, xherdan shaqiri, and breel embolo (always ready to throw down with vs the serbian nt). his history with yann sommer...i love granit's Friendships

notp: ok...please don't hate me. i don't mean "notp" as in like, eww, i hate this, i'd never read about it, i'd block the tags, etc. i just don't personally ship granit and martin. i think they were a great influence on each other as like...captain and vice-captain, and i loved seeing their interactions there. i just didn't really see sexual chemistry between them, if that makes sense. i certainly have read some granit and martin fics and enjoyed them! i just don't ship it really.

otp: i mean...

X H A K A R T E T A

do i need to stay more? two hearts that beat as one. one's heart is the other's home. mikel saving granit, shaping and transforming him, understanding him...sometimes it makes me think of the story in plato's symposium (don't worry everyone--i got a C+ in classical philosophy this is the only thing i remember or understood) from aristophanes where he talks about how zeus cut ppl in two and they have to roam around looking to find their "other half" so they could be complete...Xhakarteta be like that.

and also. how they both own each other, dominate each other, submit to the other. granit in charge in bed yet all in service of mikel. granit's utter, wide-eyed devotion to mikel in interviews. the way mikel saw the beast and the angel within, and loved the beast and showed the world the angel. UGHGHGGHGGHGGHG

random headcanon: i don't think granit would like, label his sexuality as anything? i think he just does what feels right.

unpopular opinion: i've definitely expressed this before but i do not--sincerely do not--agree with the popular view that granit would "lose control" when he got physical. for example (sorry veronika hahaha) when he chokes ashley westwood. if you look at his body language there--or even in like november 2022 vs chelsea where he kind of flung chalobah around--it's honestly a body that is very IN control of itself. he just came at these games from a very different mindset. he's naturally aggressive, goal-oriented, here to both win but also defend the honor of both himself and the team, so-- confident in his value system, he didn't care what he had to do to make it happen.

i've genuinely never seen granit appear "out of control," and i've watched a lot of aggressive granit compilations hahaha. i think mikel did help him find maturity about this, and i think putting him in a less defensive role really helped. granit defending = license to Murder

(frivolous bonus: i think he looked hot with the bleached hair! like he looked kind of deranged and so it grew on me...it definitely doesn't suit him hahaha)

song i associate with them: i don't really have one...maybe kangë e shahirav by mc kresha/lyrical son, and/or future lovers by madonna, but only bc i've listened to these songs a lot when writing fics about him lol

favorite picture of them: hOW do u expect me to do the impossible!!!!! how about these 2, the first with granit in my two favorite colors of course (and i love the 2nd one because he looks like he just woke up lol)

#colorsofmyseason #answered #THANK YOU!!!#gx #👁️#palate cleanser at the half

6 notes · View notes

juiceinpanties · 2 years

Text

10 Things You Hate About Eddie Munson, pt 4

Pairing: Eddie Munson/afab!reader

Rating(s): Chapter: E; Fic: E

Tags: eventual smut, penetrative sex, oral sex (both m and f receiving), fingering, subbie!Eddie, masturbation (m and f), fake dating, van sex, secret relationship, antagonistic relationship to friendship to lovers, casual sex, not-so-casual sex, phone sex, drunk reader

Summary: Your best friend, Nancy Wheeler, is absolutely dying to date Steve Harrington, but her parents have the weirdest rule: Nancy can't date until her friends (e.g., you) do. Nancy begs you to date someone, anyone, and eventually you agree. Meanwhile Steve offers to pay Eddie "the freak" Munson to ask you out. What could possibly go wrong??

Notes: This is, quite obviously, a 10 Things I Hate About You au, with a slight twist. Throw in some fake dating, a 90s setting, and here we are. Thanks to @tonybourdain for dragging me in and continuing to enable me. She helped me entirely rewrite the pone scene because it WAS NOT WORKING as it was.

Please note the tags. Smut ahoy!!

Feedback is always welcome and appreciated and PLEASE reblog! Completely blank blogs that just like will be blocked because I'm gonna assume you're a bot. I've been here a long time.

In case you wanna read on Ao3 instead

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4

You can’t stop thinking about Eddie.

It’s nearly 10pm. Homework is done, dinner is eaten, excuse is made to parents about why you left school after lunch. And you can’t stop thinking about Eddie Munson and his wide cow eyes and his soft, yummy lips and his big, gentle hands.

It’s like freshman year all over again. At least this time you’re not scribbling his name in your notebook with little hearts everywhere.

You change into your usual sleep uniform of panties and a t shirt and fall back into bed. Maybe you can read for a while, get him off your mind so that you can sleep.

That lasts about 20 minutes. Ugh. This is exactly why you don’t date! You’re far too busy to worry about dumb boys! You toss your book aside and run downstairs for a snack.

You’re on your way back to your room, granola bar in one hand and glass of milk in the other, when you head your private line ringing. You mutter a curse and run to catch it.

“Hello!” you say, breathlessly.

“Hello, did I interrupt something?” It’s Eddie.

You roll your eyes. “Me, running away from you.”

“Haha. Geez you’re so mean.”

“Uh huh. Hang on.” You put the phone down and shut your bedroom door, then climb back into bed and grab the phone again. “Okay, hi. What’s up?”

He grins and plops down on his bed. “I wanted to ask about tomorrow.”

“Hm?” You unwrap your granola bar, but then realize you can’t eat it while talking to him, so you set it aside and sip your milk instead.

“Tutoring? Did you forget?”

“Of course not. I’m just wondering what questions you have.”

He fiddles with the blanket. Maybe this was a mistake. He doesn’t actually have any questions about tomorrow; he just couldn’t stop thinking about you and wanted to hear your voice.

“Uhhh oh! What should I bring?”

You make a face. “Your chem book. Pens and paper. Your brain.”

“Cool, glad you mentioned the last one. Probably woulda forgot.”

You giggle just a little. “Blood flow issues again?”

“Ha,” he says on a breath. “Not right this second, but it’s definitely possible.” He pauses and drums his fingers against his thigh. “So, uh. How’s your evening been?”

“Fine,” you say. “My parents got a call from the school, but I think I calmed them down.”

“Oh shit that’s good. Can’t believe you ruined your perfect attendance record for me.”

“Uh huh, I’m turning into a juvenile delinquent. Cutting class to make out with Eddie Munson in the back of his van.”

"Hey, I just invited you for fries! You kissed me first."

"So I did," you say. "I guess I'm a sucker for pouty lips and big brown eyes."

"My lips are not pouty!"

"Mhmm, sure they are."

"Hmmph," he snorts. "If mine are yours are too. Big, soft, pretty lips. Big, bright eyes." He lets out a long breath. “I can’t stop thinking about you, pretty girl.”

You blush and shift in your seat. Pull the sheet up over your bare legs. His voice is a little low and rougher than usual and it makes you go warm all over. “I was—struggling with something similar,” you admit.

“Oh yeah?” He glances down as a bulge starts to grow in his boxers. Oh geez. Just your voice is doing this! He’s in trouble. He gives it the tiniest stroke with his fingertips.

"Eddie? What was that?" you say as he makes a soft, breathy noise.

"Huh? Oh, uh, nothing." Shit. He's gotta be more careful.

"Hmm." Your bed creaks as you finish off your milk and set the glass aside.

"What was that?" he says with a grin.

"Nothing! I was putting my empty glass on the nightstand."

"Ohhh, I see. Just being a good girl, all tucked in to your bed with your little snack," he says, his voice going rough as he talks. The image is Too Much. He bites off a groan as he rubs his bulge again.

"You okay?" you say. You maybe sort of suspect what that noise was, but surely you're wrong.

"Yeah, yup. I'm good. You?"

You lick your lips. “I want—to kiss you again,” you say. "I mean, if you—would like that. You seemed to like it."

“I’d love that,” he murmurs. “I’d love to be kissing you right now.”

You muffle another giggle. “You could sneak in. You were so good at it last time.”

"That's true! Sneak up to your room, crawl in your bed with you, and...study for chem!"

You laugh and grab your favorite bear from the pile by your bed. Rub your cheek against its soft fur. "Study, huh? What a responsible young man!"

"That's me! Eddie Munson, responsible—young—man." His voice stutters a little as he grips his erection and squeezes.

"Eddie Munson, clearly up to something. What are you doing?"

"I'm—shit. You're suspicious, huh?"

"Mhmm." You run your hand over your chest, across your pebbled nipples. The cotton of your shirt rubs the sensitive skin and you let out a tiny breath.

"Havin' another drink?" he says with a smirk.

"Oh, shut up."

He laughs and pulls his shorts down enough to free his cock. He grips the shaft and runs his thumb over the swollen head. This time he openly lets out a rough breath. "I'll just be quiet," he mumbles. "Just listen to you talk."

"Uh huh," you say. You tug one of your nipples, and then shove your shirt up with an impatient little growl. "As you do what?"

"Nothing. Why, what're you doing?"

"Nothing." You bite your lip around a breath as you continue to play with your extra-sensitive nipples. "What are you working on in chem right now?" you say, trying to keep your voice steady.

"Mmmm." He rubs his thumb up and down against the vein on the underside of his cock. Presses against the spot where the head meets the shaft and circles. "Covalent bonds," he manages.

"Oh good." You give up and press a hand between your thighs. You can feel how wet you are through your cotton panties. "I'm fantastic at covalent bonds."

"Uh huh. I just bet you are." He grinds his palm against the tip of his cock and grips it again to stroke the entire length. "What else are you good at, princess?"

You shiver at his tone, the roughness of it. "Lots of things," you breathe.

"God I bet you are."

You give the tiniest moan and shove your panties aside. You run your fingers up and down your dripping slit, over your slick labia. Then you push your fingers into your mouth and suck the taste of yourself off of them.

"What's in your mouth, baby?" he murmurs. "Don't lie."

"My fingers," you whisper.

"Oh? They get all sticky? Something nice and sweet on them?"

"Uh huh!" You feel drunk, dizzy, and if you don't come soon you're going to lose your mind.

He licks his hand and grips his cock again. Gives it several rough tugs before settling in for a slow, easy stroke. "I'd love to taste something sticky and sweet," he says. "Something soft and pink."

He smirks at the sound of your little whimper. Fuckin A he wants you. "Bet you have somethin' like that," he murmurs. "Bet it's just for me."

"Uh huh. A nice yummy snack." You circle your fingers around your clit and bite hard on your lip. "You have anything for me?"

"Oh yeah," he breathes. He strokes faster. "God do I have somethin' for you."

"Good," you say as you wiggle your hips and thrust two fingers into your cunt. "I want it, Eddie. Want to—want—to help you with your—bonds."

"Yeah," he grunts. "Molecules and shit."

"Periodic table!" you gasp as you fuck yourself. You squeeze the phone between your shoulder and chin so you can use your other hand on your clit.

"Gonna study so hard," he says. He's bucking his hips, fucking up into his hand, squeezing his shaft and stroking over the head in desperation. "So fuckin' hard, princess."

"Good! That's so good, so good, Eddie! Love it when you study hard, love it when you're such a good student for me!" You can't hold back a whine as you circle your clit. You're close, so fucking close.

"Gonna ace that test just for you. Make a big fat A just for my pretty little tutor." He's gonna explode any second. "Gonna—fuck—you're so fuckin' good!"

"Eddie! Love that, so proud, so good!!" You come hard, nearly drop the phone, moaning and whimpering with shaking thighs and throbbing cunt.

"Fuck!" he gasps and can't hold back another second. He makes a mess, painting his tummy with hot, thick come and whimpering your name over and over.

You're both quiet except for your rough panting. You lick your fingers clean and clear your throat. He grabs a towel and dabs at his stomach.

"So," you finally say. "See you at school tomorrow?"

"Yep. You want a ride?"

"No, Nancy'll take me. But if I could get a ride to your place?"

"Sure, no prob. Then I'll run you home in time for dinner. After the tutoring."

"Such a nice boy. Goodnight, Eddie."

"Night, princess. Sweet dreams."

"You too," you say, then hang up. You fall back against your pillows with a soft groan. Okay well THAT was a thing. An incredibly hot, delicious, amazing thing. You get up to grab fresh panties and head to the bathroom. You think maybe now you'll be able to sleep like a baby.

You only see Eddie in passing until school's over the next day. You're standing outside talking to Nancy when he cruises up. He stubs out his cigarette and grins. "Hey, Nancy. Hey, you ready to go?" he says to you.

"Yep. Got your chem book?"

He pulls his book bag around and pats it. "Plus a notebook and THREE pens. I'm as prepared as a goddamn Boy Scout!"

You can't help but giggle. "Come on, Foz. Let's see how much covalent bond info we can shove into that brain of yours before the clock strikes 6:30." You wave at Nancy, who's grinning like the cat who ate the canary, and follow Eddie to his van.

He opens the door for you, as always, then hurries around to his side and jumps in. "I picked up some Diet Coke," he says. "I know that's your drink."

"Yeah, it is. Thanks."

"Sure. I also, uh. Cleaned up a little. Wayne and I aren't the neatest pair."

He seems nervous. You reach over and give his skinny thigh a little squeeze. "It's okay, Grove. I'm sure you did great. I'll be there to tutor you, not critique your interior decor."

"Right!" he says. He gives you a quick grin. "And I really do need to pass this test."

"You will," you say. You pat his leg and pull your hand back. "It's next week, right? We can study today and maybe sometime over the weekend. I know you've got Hellfire tomorrow."

"You know I wasn't bullshitting when I asked you to join. You can, if you want. We'd love another member."

"Seriously?"

"Seriously."

Your mouth quirks. "Do I get a shirt?"

"I've got one at my place I can give you. It's clean and everything!"

"Oooo, you spoil me!" You grin at each other before his eyes flick back to the road. "Sure, I'll come check it out," you say. "I play a high elf healer. Rhiannon. After the Fleetwood Mac song."

You wait for some judgmental or snide comment, but he just nods. "Pretty good band," he finally says.

"Wow. How much did that cost you?"

He lets out a rusty breath. "A lot, babe. Not gonna lie. That one was hard. Though it coulda been worse."

You giggle and settle back in your seat. "I'm proud of you."

You chat casually the rest of the ride, almost like friends. Neither of you mentions last night. It's like it never happened. Part of you wonders if he regrets it, but you decide that no, he's just waiting for you to bring it up first. He doesn't want to pressure you since you made "no touching, no kissing, no bullshit" your very clear rule for this thing you two have going.

Last night definitely counts as "bullshit."

You get to his place and he grabs a can of root beer and a can of Diet Coke from the fridge before leading you back to his room. You take a moment to study his posters (it's only fair; he's seen yours) and notice the fact that there are clean sheets on his bed. Wow, he really did clean up.

"Have a seat," he says. "Sorry I don't have a desk or anything."

"It's okay," you say and drop down onto his bed. "I think I can handle it." You kick off your shoes and scoot back, dragging your backpack with you.

He hesitates a moment before climbing up next to you so that you're sitting side by side against the headboard. "Okay, um. Chapter 3," he says as he pulls out his textbook.

You grab your book and notebook and flip open to the relevant chemistry notes. "Okay, first you explain to me what covalent bonds are."

His forehead creases and he haltingly explains the concept. He actually has it down pretty well.

You get through bonds quickly and move on to other topics on the test, and before you know it two hours have passed.

"Shit," he says with a glance at his watch. He scrubs his face with both hands. "My brain hurts."

You pat his head, grinning. "Poor brain. Needs a break, I think."

"Uh huh. Want a snack? I can make some popcorn."

"Yeah, that'd be good. We can quit for the day, if you want. Put a movie on for our last few hours. There's a point of diminishing returns with all this."

His eyes crinkle as he smiles at you. "You were readin' my mind, princess. Movies are stored under there," he says, pointing. "Pick one out while I go make the popcorn."

He hops up and you crawl off the bed to check out his movie collection. Slashers and porn. Porn and slashers. Hm. Nothing super surprising, except maybe The Never-Ending Story. But that's a classic.

Since it's only a few weeks away, you decide on Halloween and push the tape into the VCR. You pause it and put your books away before settling back on his bed.

He comes back with a huge bowl of popcorn and two fresh sodas. "Hey," he says. "What'd you pick?"

"Debbie Does Dallas," you say, straight-faced.

"What? That's not even—" He scowls as he catches on. "Very funny. Jerk."

"That's a lot of porn, Munson."

He shrugs and plops down beside you. "I'm a growing boy. I have needs."

"Uh huh. For tits and serial killers, apparently."

"Nothin' wrong with tits. And serial killers are built into the fabric of American society. Did you know there's something like 50 serial killers active in the US at any given time?"

You look at him, wide-eyed. "Are you serious?"

"Yep. And, I mean, Hawkins is...well."

"Weird," you say.

"To put it mildly. Anyway, the horror movies are kind of an escape. They're so ridiculous." He hits play on the remote. "Take this one, for instance," he says, recognizing the opening credits. "How many different ways does Michael Myers die in just this one movie? But he always comes back."

You reach for some popcorn and munch on it thoughtfully. "The futility of fighting against the inevitable existential pull of 20th-century ennui?" you say.

"Yeah, that, and also you can't trust in institutions. The cops are rarely helpful in slasher movies. The government or anyone like that never is."

"Adults aren't usually at all. Kids and teenagers have to fight the monster."

"Exactly. Kids at summer camp, kids having nightmares, kids babysitting. At the end of the day you can only trust your friends to have your back, and even then they might get stabbed," he says. His expression is intense, his eyes big and bright, and you realize you could sit here and talk movies with him all afternoon.

You lean over, grab his shirt, and pull him in for a kiss. He sits back in surprise. "What was that for?"

"Nothing. Continue."

His mouth opens. Closes. Opens again. "I lost my train of thought."

"Oh," you say. You take the bowl of popcorn and set it aside. "Oops." You crawl into his lap and push him back against the headboard with one hand and grip his hair with the other. He stares up at you, astounded, and his big eyes flutter closed as you lean down to kiss him again.

"So," you murmur between kisses. "Do anything fun last night?"

His hands run up and down your back and he nips at your lips with his. "Chatted on the phone with this hot girl I know."

"Lucky girl." You pull his chin up and kiss him hungrily, your tongue sliding into his mouth. He moans and moves his to meet it. His hands go still as he hangs onto you and you slowly start to rock against him.

"Don't get hard," you breathe against his mouth.

He lets out a stuttering laugh. "I'm only human, babe. You doing—that—is gonna lead to a hard dick every time."

"Mmmm I should stop, then. We have a movie to watch."

He bites your lower lip. Tugs. "Whatever you want, princess. I am at your service."

Oh. You like that. "Hm," you say as you slide off his lap. "Maybe if you're a good boy I'll suck your cock during the movie."

He sits up. "I'll be good! I swear! So good! The best!"

You giggle and kiss his cheek. "Watch the movie, sweet boy. I guarantee you'll enjoy it."

#eddie munson #eddie munson/reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #stfic #fic #emfic #meg wrote this

117 notes · View notes