#whatever. just not going to go that way. from now on.
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Everybody Knows That I'm a Good Girl, Officers...
Synopsis. You don’t know what’s faster - how fast you were speeding down the highway, or how fast you’re on your knees for the hot officers that just so happen to pull you over.
Pairing. Officer! Gojo Satoru x Reader x Officer! Toji Fushiguro
Content. MDNI, fem! reader, police! au, unprotected, being pulled over, thréesome, eiffel tower, oral (female + male receiving), manhandling, dynamics, cúmplay, marking, they lowkey make it a competition, implied dp, some HEINOUS things, pet names, swearing.
Word count. 5.0k
A/N. I don’t condone actually speeding y’all.
You were screwed. Completely and utterly screwed.
“Shit shit shit-” you hiss, eyes flitting to the flashing red and blue lights in your rearview mirror, sirens blaring behind you. The engine roared, pavement a blur beneath your tires - a stupid, spur-of-the-moment decision. You knew you were pushing your luck with your late night speeding, fueled by an empty highway and even emptier adrenaline.
And, well, it seems like your little thrill-seeking caught up with you, quite literally, as you hastily pull over on the side of the road. Heart sinking when the police car parks right behind you - the final nail in your coffin.
You heave out a steadying breath, trying to get your thoughts in order long enough to come up with an even slightly believable explanation. Why did you think this was a good idea, again?
Tap! Tap! Tap!
Shit, in the heat of the moment you’d barely heard the heavy footsteps in the distance. Immediately snapping your head up to look at-
Oh.
Whatever flimsy excuse dies in your throat with just one glance at the officer knocking at your glass - the unfairly hot officer. Your face burns as you urgently roll down the window - partly out of necessity, and partly because you really wanted to see him better. Those snowy white locks, and- shit was that a dimple at the corner of the sly little smile curling his lips?
Twinkling gaze locked with yours, he rests an arm against the roof of the car - and you almost have to look away, your looming speeding ticket being the last thing on your mind at the way his arms flex so enticingly. Leaning down to smirk, “Ya have any idea how fast you were going, sweetheart?”
His voice was playful, and deep enough that it takes a second for you to find yours. Swallowing thickly, you bat your lashes innocently up at him, “Sorry, officer. I have no idea.”
“Fast enough that’s for sure,” he huffs out a laugh, eyeing the way you squirm embarrassedly in your seat, “C’mon, license n’ registration, now.”
Fumbling through your glove compartment, heat rushes down your spine when his fingertips happen just brush against yours as you hand over the documents. While he looks them over, you take the moment to read his badge - Gojo.
“Officer Gojo-”
“Satoru, m’not one for formalities.”
“Officer Satoru,” you press, words laced with just the right amount of flirtation. “I’m terribly sorry, I promise I didn’t know the speed limit.” And if it were any other moment then you’d be almost embarrassed at how you were fawning over him - but, well, one look at him and how could you resist?
“M’sure.” Not when he dips his head infinitely closer, hot breath fanning your face. Close - too close. And especially not when he mutters lowly, “Out.”
Which is how you found yourself strutting down the highway in a straight line, trying your very best not to tumble under the pressure of a looming Satoru.
“Keep walkin’.” And by God he was enjoying this a bit too much. Leaning against your car, arms crossed, and watching your every move. Stare so intense that a stupid little part of you couldn’t help but wonder whether his eyes lingered on you a bit too long to check for signs of drunkenness or something else.
“Well,” Satoru’s voice snaps you out of your thoughts, whirling around to catch him sweeping you one last time from head to toe. “Seems you’re not under the influence.” And you’ve barely let a smug smile make its way onto your face before he’s plowing on, “But m’still gonna have to write you up for speeding.”
“Oh come on.” you drag out, slightly whiny yet not desperate - at least, not yet. Leaning ever-so-slightly closer to him, making sure that the tight top you wore lets him see a perfect view of your breasts. “I really didn’t know.”
Eyes flickering down. Once. Twice.
Success.
But Satoru only raises his brows, muscles rippling as he crosses his arms over his chest. And by the twinkle of amusement in his gaze, you knew the smug bastard was doing this on purpose. “There are consequences for breaking the law, y’know~ Even for pretty lil’ things like you.”
Inching forward, “Can’t I just be let off with a warning, please?”
“And what makes you think you deserve one?”
Something hot, and prickly coils in your stomach at his tone. “Oh I dunno…” you trail off, so close now that there was only a hair’s breadth between your two. You could feel the heat of his body at this proximity, and it was making your head spin. “I’m sure I can convince you I do.”
Satoru huffs out a laugh, grinning, “Not me, pretty girl.” And you’ve barely registered the words before the police car door slams again, and he’s nodding his head somewhere behind you. “He’s the one that’ll be writing your ticket.”
Oh? Oh, shit.
Heart stopping, you whirl around to meet a matching, sly little smirk. “Meet, Toji, sweetheart. My patrol partner, of sorts.”
And in the dim lighting, you could make out how unfairly handsome he was. A bit older, uniform hugging him so sinfully tight - all dark hair and rugged, dangerous authority as he skims over your license. “Your superior.” the rough baritone of the newcomer’s voice sent shocks right down to your core.
“Semantics.”
“What’ve we got here?” Toji asks, tilting his head, unabashedly drinking in the sight of you just as his colleague did. “Skipping out on your duties again, brat?”
“Of course not. Just that this one,” Satoru starts. And your skin burns at the way he addresses you, words dripping with a mean little tone as if you were nothing but a plaything, “Says she didn’t know the speed limit, and wants to get off easy.”
“‘Get off easy’, huh?” Toji hums thoughtfully. “Don’t know if we can do that, doll.”
“Mhm, the old man’s right for once. Can’t put our jobs at risk, y’know?”
But oh you’d never be fooled by their little act, you catch the way their eyes meet, a silent understanding stirring between the two. You bite your lips coyly, holding back a smirk as you unhurriedly reach out to pull Toji in by his collar. His knee between your legs, your back falling against Satoru’s front, strong arms steadying you by the shoulders. “Are you sure?”
You could feel his heartbeat quickening, as was the latter’s, toned chest rumbling at the way his partner grits out a hoarse, “Positive.” Shit, they make it so easy.
Sandwiched between both men now, you whisper - low enough that they have to strain their heads closer to hear, “But I promise I’ll be a good girl, officers.”
Toji’s lips are on you before you know it - so hot and just as messy as you thought the man would be. One hand around your throat, squeezing lightly as he licks at the seam of your mouth. Such a desperate clash of lips and saliva as he bullies his tongue inside to intertwine with yours.
He tastes almost minty, with the slight taste of something so intoxicating that you don’t even realize you’re pushing down on Satoru, grinding in mindless little motions. At least, not until he’s gripping tightly at your hips, shifting your ass ever-so-slightly to graze against his swollen cock.
That makes you gasp and pull apart, tiny strings of saliva snapping as you look behind at Satoru. Feeling him, so big, so hot behind you - even through his uniform.
“Is that-”
“Shh, focus on what you’re doing, pretty girl.” he chuckles darkly. Breath ghosting your ear as a hand comes up to squish your cheeks together, forcing you to face forward. “Wouldn’t wanna make my dear supervisor here mad, huh?”
And it takes everything in you to take your mind off of how massive Satoru felt underneath you. Damp, and throbbing behind you, a wet little patch right where his angry tip was.
The only thing that actually snaps you out of your little reverie is Toji’s voice, husky, and dangerously sweet. “I gotta say, m’feeling left out.” he sighs mockingly, fingers tightening around your throat. “And after I’m the one supposed to be writing you up? How rude.”
You meet his eyes, half-lidded and looking at you hungrily. He liked this - seeing you all breathless and needy, so eager to please.
“M-m’sorry-” you squirm in their iron grasp.
“Now now, ‘sorry’ won’t always cut it.” Toji gives a soft, playful little smack to your ass, before addressing the other man. “Whaddaya say we do about that, brat?”
You look up at Satoru pleadingly, only to be met with a dark chuckle. Shit, if anything, you thought that he would be the nicer of the two - but that stupid little illusion falls apart with every word that falls from his lips. And oh how he enjoyed watching your slow, dawning realization that no you weren’t going to get mercy from either of them. “Guess we should teach her some manners, huh?”
“I dunno…I don’t think her slutty lil’ pussy will learn, though.”
That felt like a slap to the face - one that had your dripping cunt quivering in- fear? Anticipation? You really couldn’t give a fuck right now, not when they’re talking over you like you’re some object. Not when Toji’s shoving his knee deeper in-between your thighs, rocking your hips lightly. You whine, “P-please. I want to.”
“Want to what? C’mon now, use your words like a big girl.” It’s Satoru now, teasing you as you hesitate in giving into what you really want.
Your voice cracks pathetically, at the embarrassing admission. Being stuck between these two men way too much for you to handle. “I want…”
“Say it, sweetheart.”
“Wan’ to be fucked by you both. Have you teach me some m-manners.”
And then it happens.
Your back hits the cushion before you even realize what’s happening, sinking into your car backseat as the two officers shut the door behind you. Satoru sits on one side, while Toji pushes down the front seats on the other. Cramped, heady - and exactly where you wanted to be right now.
Shit, when did they even open the car door? You don’t have half the mind to wonder, because neither of them waste any time. Immediately groping your tits - your waist - your thighs, everywhere and anywhere they could reach.
Satoru’s kissing you now - drinking you in like you were his favorite taste. And you just think he might be yours, so sweet, like those cheap lollipops you saw at convenience stores. Drinking in your breathless gasps as Toji begins unbuttoning your top, letting it fall to God-knows-where and-
“Fuuuck.” he lets out a low whistle, “Kid, look at this.”
With an almost-pained grunt, Satoru’s pulling away. Eyes widening as he takes in the sight of you - braless, and exposed so shamefully for the both of them, of course. “No bra?” he mutters raspily. “Always knew you were a lil’ slut, doll.” But you knew by the way his breath hitches that he liked it.
And Toji did too, if the way his fingers danced along your hardened nipples was anything to go by. “What did I tell you? Bet she’s got such a naughty pussy, too.”
Your head is spinning, both from his words and the way Satoru’s claiming your lips once again. Murmuring into your mouth, “Only one way to find out.”
And that’s all that is said before they’re all but ripping your skirt off your hips. The poor, flimsy fabric nothing against the two men that were now looking at your drenched panties in pure awe.
In fact, Toji drops to his knees onto the car interior, face to face with your pretty pussy. Greedily drinking in the way your slick beads out so sloppily, the way it glistens and clenches around nothing. Gaze heated enough that you’re embarrassed.
“Ah ah-” Satoru tuts, seeing the way your bare thighs were trying to close - not letting yourself have even some semblance of dignity. “You said you’d be a good girl f’us, isn’t that right, old man?”
“Mhm, s’what she said.”
Shit, you can do nothing but have your legs wrestled open, Satoru’s fingers sliding so delicately underneath your panties. “You heard him, pretty.” Index sliding up and down, up and down up and- grazing your swollen folds, all the way from your base, stopping just below your throbbing clit. Tease. “So why don’t we let officer Toji here get a good look at how wet your pretty lil’ cunt is?”
Neither man waits for your answer - of course, they don’t.
Rip!
Several things happen at once, you barely have the time to react before Satoru’s holding your panties in his fist, tattered and soaked with your slick. Your mouth drops open in disbelief as he dangles it like a badge of honor, holding it up, up, up, only to breathe in your scent obscenely. “Fuck, you even smell like the perfect angel.”
Toji - taking the opportunity - dives face-first into your pussy. Groaning at the taste - you were so sweet, so addictive on his tongue. Licking lazily up your swollen folds, letting your sweet sweet juices get all over his face as he buries himself nose-deep.
“Oh!” you gasp, fisting his locks in your hands, “Shit shit shit-” Toji was in eating you out, exactly as he was with kissing - sloppy. Unabashed. Letting his tongue move so messily all over your cunt, while his colleague held you still. Letting him devour you as he pleased.
“Shhh, don’t worry, sweetheart.” Satoru whispers into your ear, every cute lil’ whine of yours going straight to his painfully hard cock.
And, well, Satoru can’t just sit here and watch Toji have you all to himself, now. Can he? Which is why he begins playing with your sensitive nipples. Twirling his hot tongue around one, rolling the other between his fingers.
Drunk off your moans and the way you’re so overstimulated by both men. Unable to decide between where your body wants to focus on - grinding down on Toji’s relentless mouth or leaning towards Satoru’s. And it’s driving you mad.
“Hngh- fuck- Feel’s good.” you whine, bucking your hips wildly.
“Yeah? Ya like this?” Toji speaks first, words muffled around your clit. Sucking and rolling his tongue harshly across it. Over and over. Strangely in time with the quick, maddening little circles that Satoru licks around your nipples.
Being ruined like this from both ends was way too much - so you can only nod deliriously. Shaking, bucking your hips into his touch so desperately. Letting Toji throw your legs over his shoulders, looking so fucking gorgeous in-between your legs like he wouldn’t want to be anywhere else. Brows furrowing in bliss as he tilts his head back, back, back so that your juices slide down his throat. “Shit.” Lapping even faster at your pussy. “Could get used to this.”
And let it be known that Gojo Satoru was a jealous man, because he pulls away from your tits with a lewd pop! Grunting sulkily, “Move over. Wan’ taste her cute pussy, too.”
Either Toji doesn’t hear him over the lewd little squelches coming from down below, or he ignores it - probably the latter. Continuing to make out with your cunt so messily.
But Satoru was nothing if not persistent, snaking down a hand to gather your slick on his fingertips. Immediately shoving them in his mouth and oh- You watch blearily as his eyes roll to the back of his head, sucking his fingers clean like a man possessed.
“Oh- fuck.” his mouth drops into a soft oh! Leaning forward like he wanted to kiss you senseless, only to halt and shuffle off the carseat. Because he wanted to make out with your cunt more. Dropping to the ground beside Toji, Satoru gives him a minute shove, “Move. M’not letting you be the only one to taste this heavenly pussy.”
“Hah- ya think you can eat her out the way she deserves, brat?” Licking at your inner thigh, “Lemme show you how a real man does it.”
“Watch and learn, old man.” Both men push your legs as far apart as they’d go, spreading you so shamefully for them. You reel from the stretch and the sinful sight below you.
Because immediately, they’re making out hungrily with your cunt together. Sloppily and needy - tongues bumping into each other, intertwining, burying their faces between your legs as they eat you out like a little competition. Satoru’s licking up and down your slit, pooling your slick on his tongue, while Toji’s wrapping his pretty lips around your ravaged clit.
“Sh-shit. Satoru- Toji. Ah! M’so close.” you squirm as they moan into your wet cunt, the vibrations sending white-hot pleasure running up your spine. Drinking in your little whimpers like they were addicted.
“Like this?” Satoru groans. “Feels good being eaten out by the both of us?”
The car fills with your breathy moans, and it’s hard to speak with the way they’re alternating between flicking your clit and squeezing your tongue through your swollen folds. Stretching you out, thrusting at a frenzied pace - you don’t even know who is who at this point. Just getting off with a needy, “Ngh- fuck, yes yes yes- Feels s’good!”
“Like being our little whore, doll?”
Maybe it was Toji’s words - so filthy even when he was calling out to you sweetly. Or maybe it was the way Satoru was grinding his jaw as he plunges his soft tongue deeper into your plushy walls. Probably it was how they both looked at you - like you were their last meal.
Because you’re cumming, and cumming so messily all over their mouths. “Shit. S’too much. Ah-”
And neither man stops - almost like it was difficult to part. Letting you drag your sloppy pussy incoherently all over while they continue to flick and dip their tongues. Big, fat tears pricking at your eyes from the overstimulation.
“Heh, you’re gonna make her cry.” Satoru grins, as he finally parts. Your slick glossing so prettily all over the bottom half of his face - and his partner wasn’t any better. Rising from in-between your thighs looking very decidedly not sorry for eating you out till you cry.
You watch, speechless, as Toji swipes a thumb over his lips, watching in wonder the way it becomes sticky with your juices. “Could get used to this all over m’face, right?”
“Mhm.” the other man hums, absentmindedly fumbling with his shirt. Revealing smooth, milky skin - he was so deliciously sculpted, all toned muscled and a slutty waist that made your mouth water. Shit, he was a masterpiece.
But Satoru - that impatient bastard - doesn’t even give you the time to admire the entirety of him before he’s unbuckling his belt. “Though I think she’d look better with something else.”
You gasp as he pulls down his pants, tugging just enough that his swollen cock springs out. Absolutely massive and such an angry red, weeping tip dripping all the way down his length. He was so long - the type of long that had you knowing that won’t be walking properly tomorrow.
“How crude.” Toji titters, but shit how he loved the way you seemed so cockdrunk from the mere sight of Satoru’s dick. It almost made some tiny part of him jealous.
“Whatever, dibs on her cunt,” Satoru grunts, one hand moving to toy so messily with your dripping entrance. Pointedly ignoring the heated glare thrown his way by Toji, and the way he begins rolling your clit between two fingers. Almost like a little standoff - with you stuck in the middle.
Toji breaks first, “M’your superior, I should be the one to fuck her pretty pussy.”
“Aw come on.” the other man whines, and it would almost be comical if it wasn’t for the way his long fingers were massaging your hot core. “Think of it as a ah- learning experience. After all, who knows whether you’d hurt yourself trynna fuck her the way I can.”
“You mouthy little-”
“Now, pretty girl, let’s see if y’can walk the talk.”
And oh you should’ve known better than to think you’d be stuffed inside the backseat of a car with two police officers without them throwing you around like a rag doll.
Immediately, Toji’s manhandling you, fingers digging into your waist as he pushes you on all fours. Lining his aching bulge right in front of your soppy mouth, saliva seeping into his pants.
Well, there was no use wearing soiled clothing, right? You watch, cunt clenching in anticipation as he shoves down his pants in record speed.
Oh, the universe was playing a joke on you - because Toji was just as big. If a bit thicker where Satoru was longer. Prominent veins glistening in the dim light, precum dripping all the way down to the maintained tufts of black at his base.
Shit, your eyes flit between the intimidatingly big cocks. One in front of you, grazing his fat tip across your lips, and the other positioned right over your sloppy entrance. You weren’t going to make it out alive.
“Having second thoughts?” Toji scoffs, edging his hips closer. Greedily taking in how fucking pretty you looked with his precum glossing your mouth, messy and dripping down to your chin. “Wan’ tap out?”
You barely even have to your head “no” - because Satoru’s answering for you. Spreading your pussy lips with his thumb, taking one, long look before chuckling, “Course not. Y’should see the way her needy cunt is sucking my thumb up.”
“Well then. Guess we’ll get to the real fun.”
With that, Toji’s stuffing himself into your mouth. A low hiss leaving the back of his throat as you take him so well, lips bulging around his thick cock. Tonguing at the sensitive slit in a way that makes him lose his mind.
Not even giving your a proper warning as he pushes in inch by fucking inch, watching you choke and gag around him. Not stopping till he’s got your nose pressed all the way against his toned pelvis. “Shit, relax yer throat. Fuck, ah- just like that, doll.”
And if you thought he was mean then you weren’t prepared for Satoru at all - not with the way he was immediately squeezing his thick head into your snug cunt. Head thrown back as your heavenly walls can’t decide between pushing him out or milking the fucking soul out of him.
“S’tight, fuckin’ love this pussy.” Satoru gasps, jaw clenched, trying not to just fuck recklessly into your cunt until you’re drunk on his cock. But God is it difficult to keep his sanity when all he gets in response from you is a choked, wet gurgles. Body bowing into both of theirs as you desperately try to relax both your throat and your cunt.
“Gonna stand around waitin’ or am I gonna have to ruin her pretty pussy for you?” Toji taunts, voice strained as he begins thrusting in quick, harsh strokes into your hot mouth. “Talked big, huh, kid?”
“Fuck off.”
And Satoru’s never one to lag behind. After all, he did graduate at the top of his batch at the academy - he can’t lose face in front of you or his annoying superior either.
So he tightens his grip on your hips, hard enough that he’s pretty sure it bruises. Pushing down on your spine to arch your back deeper onto his cock. “I dunno.” he drawls, “What do you think, sweetheart? Want me to fuck into this tight lil’ pussy? Ruin you on my cock?”
Of course, the only response he gets is a low, wet moan. Luckily, both men understand it as a loud, resounding “yes”.
“Awww, look at her- hah- Cock-drunk little slut can’t even speak.” It’s the last thing that spills out of Satoru’s mouth before he’s pushing past that tight ring of resistance. No care or concern for your poor pussy because shit his thoughts were too mangled with how heavenly you felt around him.
“You got this, pretty.” he whispers, fucking into you in small, shallow little thrusts just to fit himself inside you. “Take me all like the good girl you are.”
And oh were you such a good girl for him - Satoru thinks he could almost cum on the spot as he finally bottoms out. Sucking up his cock so fucking sinfully as his heavy balls smacking your ass, already so wet with your slick and his precum.
“There ya are.” Toji hums, the image of you choking on his cock while you struggle to take Satoru’s making his head absolutely spin. He can’t stop himself from leaning down and kissing hotly down your spine, making you buck and gag deeper around his dick. In the haze of it all, he catches Satoru’s amused gaze. Spitting out, “What?”
“Softie.”
“Oh, shut up. You can’t even handle her pussy.”
And Satoru took that personally, because he’s reeling his hips back, back, back - all the way till his angry, weeping tip just kissed you sloppy holes. “M’gonna show you, softie.” Body moving before his mind, he starts fucking into your pretty cunt recklessly. Hands groping all over your body possessively, hips moving in rough, harsh thrusts fueled by pure need and the urge to ruin you. Over and over-
Toji only smiles at the little show, your garbled whines every time Satoru hits your poor cervix going straight to his cock - quite literally. And if he angled his head just right, he could see the way your cute cunt was stretching obscenely. Barely-lucidly, he wonders whether your throat would bulge around his just as much.
He taps your cheek, signaling you to blink those pretty eyes so tearily up at him. Balls squeezing painfully, he really can’t help but pump his cock into you faster, matching Satoru’s merciless cadence - ruining you from both sloppy holes. “Sorry, doll. Gotta big ego, so we can’t be outdone, now, can we?”
And then it’s like something snaps because suddenly every movement becomes sloppier, more erratic. Toji’s got a hand around your throat, feeling each thrust as he ruins your gorgeous face. Abs flexing each time he drags your lips on his cock up and down up and down up and- like some toy.
Satoru wasn’t any nicer either - becoming so fucking messy as he fucks you from behind like he was claiming his win. Faster, sloppier.
Biting his lip at the way your ass jiggles each time his hips snap into yours. Pulling you back by the hair to bounce you like some little slut from both ends. And, maybe if you were in any better state of mind you’d have said something about the way they were using you like their favorite fucktoy - but right now you were so close. Dangerously close. It was too much.
And they probably feel it because suddenly Toji’s leaning down, murmuring hotly against your ear, “S- fuck. Ngh- Close?”
“Fuck, I can feel it too.” Satoru voices from behind, so hoarse with desire, “Suckin’ me up so hah- t-tight it’s almost hard to fuck her.” It’s his cue to reach down deftly and start toying with your ravaged clit, still so sensitive and sore from before. Drawing erratic little circles on it, pinching with his fingers.
You’re letting out throaty, muffled moans of their names, making Toji’s hips stutter. Holding you still as his aching balls smack your ass. “Hngh- shit. Keep doin’ that, brat, this one here loves it.”
“What did I tell ya? S’like this pussy’s made f’me.”
And if they couldn’t feel it then they certainly could see it. They could see the way you were getting messier, pussy dripping all over the carseat now. Mascara running down your face, saliva and precum trailing down your chin. Honestly, it was fucking hard to look at you without cumming right there, too. Because you looked completely and utterly fucked out. So close that it was almost painful.
Maybe that’s why both men speed up their pace impossibly, no reason or rhyme. You feel a wolfish bite on your exposed neck - Satoru - fingers frenzied on your clit, thrusts stemming from such a carnal, depraved part of him. Falling out of sync with Toji as they get so sloppy with the goal to get you off - and get you off so hard that you can’t think about anything but them, them, them-
“Cum, doll.”
This orgasm is more obscene than the last. Far more. Because you honestly don’t even realize you’re cumming, not until you’re seeing stars behind your eyes and feeling Satoru and Toji slamming harshly into you. Once. Twice. Before spilling into you in unison.
And it’s so much that you don’t even know if you can take it.
Toji’s salty on your tongue, pumping thick, hot ropes of tongue into your mouth. Pulling out purposefully like the smug bastard he is to see his seed all messy and dribbling down your face. While Satoru’s much the opposite, keeping his twitching cock stuffed into your tight pussy while he paints your walls white. Not letting you waste a single drop.
But oh he didn’t mind when you finally pull yourself off of Toji’s dick. Cum smearing so sloppily all over your face, and shit he doesn’t think you’ve ever looked prettier.
And Satoru really doesn’t mind when you look back and pull him into a kiss - Toji, too. If you can even call it that, a messy clash of teeth and tongue and cum. So much of it. Swirling and sucking on your tongue, bumping into each other. Just pure fucking filth.
It gets Satoru’s dick so hard and throbbing all over again at how obscene it all was. Some weird little part of him is almost disappointed as Toji breaks the kiss - but not for long. Because his superior shifts, splaying himself out beneath you, while he pulls your limp body on top.
Ah. Great minds really do think alike, he thinks as Toji drags his tip lazily all over your cunt. Pooling your juices on his fat head, grazing your poor, abused clit to where your sloppy pussy was quivering and still stuffed full of Satoru’s cock. Well, not like you didn’t have room for one more. Right?
It’s all you can do to babble deliriously, “W-wha-”
“Shhh, doll. We’ll take care of it.”
“After all, sweetheart, you did say you’d be our good girl…”
A/N. This got taken down the first time I posted it LMAO.
Plagiarism not authorized.
#gojo x reader#gojo smut#gojo x you#jjk x reader#jjk smut#jjk x you#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen x you#jjk#jjk fic#jujutsu kaisen#tonywrites#toji x reader#toji smut#toji x you#toji fushiguro x reader#toji fushiguro smut
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hi!!! here for a request. can we have a imagine where reader has a wound from surgery or whatever on like in a rib and she hides to change the bandages but then spencer sees her and he’s like ‘lemme help you’ and…
you do you for the rest!
in which spencer helps BAU fem!reader change her bandages in the bathroom at work. it's intimate, and he's adorable and awkward, and it only fuels her terrible, terrible crush.
warnings/tags: fluff, talk/description of wound, brief talk of being stabbed (does not actually occur in this fic lol), reader wears a bra, spencer undoes said bra but not sexually, lots of suggestive humor and teasing, a TINY sprinkling of angst but not really, idiots in love
a/n: i'm picturing early seasons spencer and it is filling me with so much unbridled joy. I. LOVE. HIM. thank you for the request!! and lets not talk about how inconsistent my formatting for requests is pls and thanks!!
It’s not like you meant to bend down so quickly that your wound reopened—but here you are, suffering the consequences of your actions in the women’s bathroom at Quantico as you try to assess the injury before you re-bandage it. And your shoe is still untied.
Unfortunately, the fact that you had quite literally been stabbed in the back last week makes it hard to reach said injury—especially when you’re at work and so can’t take off your shirt like you normally would. And all this struggling means it’s taking longer than it should, so now you’re focused on the wound and its scabby, wet edges and all the things it’s secreting rather than hurrying to give another statement of the entire event to Hotch since the first one had apparently been too sparse on the details.
A knock sounds on the open door. Spencer calls your name.
“You in there?”
The angle of your neck has your voice slightly strained as you call back, “yeah, what’s up? Is it Hotch?” you pause to hiss as you accidentally scratch at the wound with a nail. You don’t even want to know how much bacteria you just introduced to it. “Tell him I didn’t forget our meeting, I’ll be there in—”
“It’s not Hotch. I just wanted to make sure everything was okay with your back? I know you said you were going to check on it, but you’ve been in there a while.”
You sigh, dropping your sore arm as you continue to hold up your shirt with the other and regarding the reflection of your back in the mirror.
“Actually—could you come in here?”
There’s a pause.
“You want me to come into the women’s restroom?”
“Yes, Spencer. It’s fine. There’s nobody else in here. I just… I need some help, I think.”
The last part is admitted quietly, with an air of defeat. To admit to needing help, is, by your standards, the same as failure. Spencer knows this, which is probably the only reason he puts aside his hesitations and shuffles uncertainly into the tiled room. If you’re asking for help, it’s because you really need it.
“What do you need help with?” he asks, sweeping his gaze suspiciously around the lavatory as if you were lying about there not being any other women present and this whole thing might be a trap of some sort.
“It’s gross, and you can totally say no.”
He raises his brows expectantly, before spotting the weeping wound on your back. Unconsciously he steps closer, leaning forward. It’s not your fault, and the gore is not specific to you—anyone’s body would react this way to being stabbed. But you still feel embarrassed by the close attention to such an ugly marring, which nobody besides you and your doctors has actually seen up close.
“That doesn’t look good,” he mutters. The expression on his face is irritatingly familiar—the drawn brows, tightened eyes, barely parted lips—but it takes a moment before you realize what it is.
“Reid,” you complain. He’s still stooped over slightly to examine the wound, and looks up at you through dark lashes with those infuriatingly warm puppydog eyes.
“What?”
“You’re looking at me the way you look at a dead body on the slab.”
His nose scrunches.
Some might say it scrunches adorably.
“No, I’m not. That’s just my face.”
“Okay, well stop. It’s freaking me out.”
He pouts—actually pouts. Subtle, but bottom lip jutted out and all. It’s ridiculously endearing.
“My face freaks you out?”
“Wh—no! That’s not what I said! You have—you have a great face! I didn’t mean—”
You manage to claw yourself out of the hole you’re digging when you see the dopey smile growing on his face.
Oh. He was fucking with you.
He never used to do that. It’s unnerving to be the fucked with instead of the fucker for a change. Especially when it’s Spencer.
“What did you need me for?” Spencer asks by way of peace offering. You close your eyes and sigh, attempting to collect your thoughts without his presence re-scrambling them.
“Um—I just need you to put this bandage over it. I can’t reach without taking my shirt off.”
And now you’re forced to wonder if he’s thinking about you shirtless as much as you’re thinking about you shirtless.
“Yeah—don’t do that,” he says absentmindedly, stepping again closer to get a better look before turning to the nearest sink.
For some reason, this offends you.
“Why not?”
Spencer pulls another face as he washes his hands—you love the constant flow of expressions he always seems so unconscious of. Even when they’re not pleasant and directed at you.
“Are you asking me why shouldn’t you take your shirt off?” he clarifies.
“I know why I shouldn’t take my shirt off, but I want to know why you think I shouldn’t take my shirt off.”
“Because we’re at work?” he observes astutely. You frown deeply at his completely logical reply. Spencer chuckles as he dries his hands and approaches once more, taking the square of gauze pre-lined with medical tape from your hand. “I mean, I can’t stop you. But it would be kind of a weird choice.”
“Oh, so me shirtless is weird?”
Cool fingers meet the comparatively hot skin of your back—where everything is still sensitive because the wound wreaked havoc on your nerves there. You flinch slightly.
“Sorry,” he murmurs gently. Though his touch is so incredibly light it doesn’t really hurt—it hurts much less than when you’re tending to the wound, anyway. It’s almost soothing. After a moment he continues, a bit louder. “And that is not what I was saying. But I am completely comfortable asserting that it would be weird for you to be shirtless at work.”
The gentle touches contrast with his teasing words and serve to disorient you as you’re shaken back in to your usual dynamic. Which is markedly more sarcastic.
“Well—”
Before you have to think of something to say, Spencer interrupts you.
“Your, um—I think your… brassiere… is in the way.”
As soon as he says it you burst out laughing. It echoes through the room.
“My brassiere? Are you actually 70 years old?”
His brows knit even tighter and his face gets very pink very quickly. He can’t meet your eyes over your shoulder.
“That’s what it’s called.”
“Spencer, you may be the first person to use that word since 1952. Say bra.”
“I don’t want to,” he complains. Your laughter only grows as your head tips back.
“Why? How is brassiere better than bra?”
“It’s—it’s too colloquial! I’m trying to be professional!”
“Call it a bra or I’m going to rub my dirty hands all over my back,” you threaten, adopting a poker face so he knows you mean business. His eyes widen immediately.
“Oh my god! Bra! Do you want to introduce staph and meningitis and g—do not do that!”
“See? How hard was that?”
“I hate you,” he mumbles, face still flushed and adorable. “And you still have to take it off.”
“Excuse me?” you grin, pretending to be affronted because you know he didn’t mean it like that but it’s fun to pretend he did. Fun for you, of course. Not so much for him. He's utterly flustered by this point.
“Or at least undo it! It’s in the way.”
With a deeply bored sigh, you go to unclasp your bra—but as you go to do it your shirt drops down. You grimace, humor briefly forgotten as the fabric brushes the damaged skin.
“I can’t—”
“Okay, just—I’ll do it,” Spencer says. “Just move your shirt again.”
So you do, watching his reflection as he works.
And you have not one joke to break the heavy silence with as you feel his knuckles gently pressing into the middle of your back, as he unclasps the bra with his characteristic tenderness and a surprising amount of agility. It’s quiet except for your pulse in your own ears as he carefully pushes it out of his way, holding it down with a hand to your rib cage and fingertips slipping just under the fabric of your shirt—unintentionally and certainly non-sexual, no doubt, but skimming under your heart in a way that still feels so intimate you’re realizing how touch-starved you are.
“You do that often?” you find yourself asking, because you’re stupid, and you need to cool the tension before it chokes you, and you can’t help yourself even though you don’t actually want to know the answer.
“I,” he begins, voice quiet as rustling paper, tongue darting over his lip and eyes narrowed. The sentence stalls as he focuses on placing the patch just so. “Do not think that is an appropriate workplace question.”
Something aches in the pit of your stomach.
Something resembling jealousy.
It was not the timid evasive linguistic maneuver of someone who is insecure about the thing they’re discussing. It was not the awkward fumbling no but I don’t want to tell you that which you were expecting from Spencer Reid.
Nor is it an easy yes—an admission between friends. He doesn’t want to tell you.
You swallow and try to act like yourself.
“Yet here you are, in the woman’s restroom at our place of employment, undoing my bra. I think we’re past professionalism.”
“When you decontextualize it like that it sounds like something it’s not. This is professional, because I’m helping you with a wound you sustained on the job. I’m being a good colleague.”
Your lips twist into a smile he can’t see.
“A great colleague would kiss it better.”
“It's almost like you want me to file a sexual harassment complaint with HR," he says through a little smirk as he smooths the bandage over. Before you can snip back, he steamrolls over his own teasing—you’ve both been speaking in almost reverent tones since he started but his voice loses the sarcastic edge from a second before and reverts back to concerned and sweet. “Does that feel okay?”
You rotate your shoulders best you can without letting go of your shirt or flashing the good doctor to check if it feels secure.
“It’s good. And hey—if I were going to sexually harass you I would do a lot better than that. You think that’s my best material? That’s just the tip of the iceberg. I keep so many inappropriate comments to myself. You’d be shocked by some of the things I have almost said to you.”
He laughs, secures the band of your bra and begins fitting it to the clasp you’d had it on—and at that precise moment Emily walks in.
“H—woah.”
“It’s—I’m—I was helping her!” Spencer panics, immediately removing his hands from you like his palms are burning and holding them up defensively.
“Oh, you helped me alright,” you tease, pulling your shirt back into place.
“Don’t say it like that!” And then, to Emily, “I was changing out her bandage!”
“Changing my bandage,” you emphasize, winking more than is advisable.
“That’s—this is a hostile work environment! I feel unsafe!” Spencer almost yells, half laughs, as he scampers towards the door. “I’m going to HR!”
“Shut up! You love it!”
His laughter audibly travels farther away for several moments as he presumably goes back down the hallway to do his actual job.
You have the stupidest grin on your face, but you wipe it off when you notice Emily staring.
“What?”
“Nothing,” she says, shaking her head and looking away, moving toward a stall. “You’re just… you guys are funny.”
“What do you mean funny?” You demand, standing right outside her stall as she closes it.
“Wh—I mean funny! Are you going to listen to me pee, you weirdo?”
You frown.
She makes a good point.
Unfortunately, giving Hotch a more detailed statement is just as bad as you’d thought it’d be. Despite how cheery you’ve tried to remain about the whole situation, despite the way you insisted that the wound was so shallow you didn’t need more than a few days off work, despite the jokes you make about forgetting it’s even there because it’s on your back—it’s hard not to remember exactly how the glass felt twisting under your skin, how you’d felt suddenly so hot and lightheaded and sick to your stomach and the way Morgan hollered because he didn’t know how deep it had gone after you crumpled quick from shock, when you’re asked to describe it all in excruciating detail.
It only takes ten minutes, but they seem to drag on and on and by the time you’re leaving Hotch’s office you feel utterly drained. You hurry back to your desk, covertly wiping away moisture that you refuse to allow to become tears. Once seated, and having dodged sympathetic looks and avoided any do you want to talk about its, you allow yourself a few deep breaths with your eyes shut.
When you open them, you realize there’s a fresh cup of your favorite tea on your desk, in the Snoopy mug the team is always fighting over. Now his little black nose is covered by a square of yellow paper. You’re already smiling as you peel away the sticky note and hold it closer.
On it is an adorably odd smiley-face, and a note in familiar, messy looping scrawl.
I would never report you to HR beautiful
That would be a stab in the back!
You snort loudly and clap a hand to your mouth—but you’ve already drawn the attention of almost everyone in the bullpen.
When you turn to look at Spencer, he’s not looking back. Instead, his eyes are firmly trained on his computer screen. But he’s got his chin propped on his fist over the desk, and his knuckles are doing a poor job of concealing a giant self satisfied grin. He is the only person on the team who knows you well enough to make such a distasteful joke. And he also knows you well enough to know that it would make you feel so much better after your meeting with Hotch than all the well-meaning sincerity in the world ever could.
Funny.
Maybe that is the right word for what you two are.
#spencer reid#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid fic#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid x self insert#criminal minds#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid angst#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid x you#dr spencer reid#criminal minds fandom#criminal minds fic#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds imagine#criminal minds fanfic
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My girlfriend requested this
Hazbin men trying the period simulator. Somewhat of a follow up to my period post so this is based on the reader having severe period pain due to PCOS/ENDO
Lucifer
The man is sweating before you even attach the simulator. He knows he fucked up. He only agreed to this because he loves you a lot.
He handles the first 3 levels ok. You tell him very few women experience that little pain and that usually 4-6 is the average.
Those levels make him tense. He's uncomfortable, but still pretty able to work and do normal things. 5 has him pausing to do deep breaths every now and then. (If this is the canon timeline where he birthed Charlie he compares it to bad kicks).
6-8 he's pretty much doubled over. If you tell him that's the level you experience, he will cry. Literally begs forgiveness since again, period and labor pain is technically his fault. He is so sorry. If he didn't have issues with his Dad before he does now because this is fucked up. God's fucked up for doing this.
He doesn't make it to 10, he's crying by level 9. This is labor levels of pain. He gets why all you do is sleep. Treats your period like a sacred ritual after that. Preps for weeks. He goes full Bible, sheltering you for the duration of it so you can have peace and quiet. Please never hook him up to this again.
If you wear it at anything from an 8-10 and tell him "It's close, but I've hurt worse" he's gonna sob and then try and fight his Old Man again. He'll settle for offering to have your bits removed for you.
Vox
Once again this man hates admitting he was wrong. And yeah he knows your periods are really bad, especially now he's witnessed it. But it's still a huge knowledge gap for him and he doesn’t really take the time to think about it.
He handles 1-5 well. He's mildly uncomfortable by 5, but thinks that if this is the average experience, then it's not such a big deal. Tell him the statistics on how many people with periods actually experience 6-8 because that's actually the majority, and he's just confused. How is the average pain level not the most common?
6-8 has him gritting his teeth and glitching, but he refuses to stop and keeps trying to work. Is starting to wonder how you went so long working with this level of pain without him noticing.
He makes it to 10, but by then, he's unable to move, clutching his abdomen and sparking and glitching. Tells you it feels like his entire insides are being squeezed. The fact that he can feel it in his groin. He's kind of afraid of period sex with you after that because of how much he felt it. And you said it's caused cramps from your ribs to your knees. He's like... genuinely scared of your period and pain tolerance.
He's going to snuggle the fuck out of you afterwards and apologize for not appreciating how much you still do for him when you're not feeling good. How he didn't see how hurt you were. He does a lot of research after that and not only does he spoil you by buying whatever you need for your periods and giving you time off, he looks into treatment options. Even if that means chopping the useless fucking things out. Sinners can't have kids anyway so who needs ovaries and a uterus?
He's more convinced you should just be rid of the damn things when you wear it and 8-10 is "Yeah, this is close, but it doesn't really cover how much of my body hurts".
Valentino
Is only doing this because he was dared to by Velvette. Or if this an au where he's trying to be a less toxic person. But really I think it's also to prove that you're all being dramatic. It's a perfectly normal body function and his employees are just trying to get out of work.
He gets all the way to 6 before he starts to realize he may have fucked up. Especially when it's explained that this is what most people experience.
By 10 he's gritting his teeth, chain smoking, clawing at things. He refuses to give in, but he can count on one hand the number of things in his entire life and death as a pimp and a whore that he's experienced that come close to this level of pain.
No one told him his dick was gonna hurt. Sitting hurts. Breathing hurts. He doesn't even try to eat. He won't ever admit to being wrong, but he does behave more leniently with his actors when they're on their periods.
If you put it on (and lets say he actually cares about you) and setting 8-10 is "Yeah, this an average day for my cramps. My bad days are like..5 or 6 levels worse" it's gonna rearrange his brain a little. He might be a little afraid of you and some of the other actors with periods because your pain tolerances are so high. It threatens his ability to control you and them. But on the other hand, that's kinda hot???
Alastor
Has never once doubted that people who experience periods undergo serious struggle and has nothing but respect for women (and trans people he just associates it with women more because of the time period and his mama) who work through it.
He is actually the one who heard about the simulator through Rosie and asks you to show him your experience. Just to better understand you. He knows you're the type to try and function through the pain (probably because society ingrained into you that your pain doesn't matter).
Initially, he wants to skip the lower levels and just have you set it to your pain level. You tell him that's a bad idea, and to be honest, you're not sure if this thing goes that high. He asks you to check and you set it to the highest setting and say, "It's pretty close. It's been worse, but this is a rough idea," he's a little frustrated but still tries it.
You agree to set it to 4 and tell him 4-6 is what most people report feeling. He acknowledges it, registers it as unpleasant, but otherwise is fully capable.
7-9 has his ears flat, his smile is more a snarl. This is uncomfortable. Not what he considers painful but certainly irritating. It makes sitting, stretching, and eating feel much more difficult.
10. There's static visble around him. His teeth grind. Actually painful. Not the worst pain he's experienced, but he hates it. He hates the way he feels it in his back and hips as he walks. He hates the way taking deep breaths (which for someone as dramatic as he is and with the transatlantic accent, breathing technique and posture is important) stings. He hates the way it causes his stomach to cramp and churn. He hates the ache in his thighs and groin that make sitting feel stiff and ackward. He can only picture how blood loss would make this worse. Tired, losing nutrients, the headaches, the increased moodiness. It's no wonder you sleep, so much, but he wonders how the Hell you sleep like this? He's snappy and short tempered because of the pain (and again he gets why you would be if you weren't sleeping so much).
How does this affect how he treats you?
Not much. He still expects you to know your body and your limits. He would never dare to presume otherwise. He still helps prepare whatever you need for your time of the month and still meal plans for you, though he perhaps finds ways to ensure you get all the iron and vitamins you need without cooking steak and other big, heavy meals, since he now understands how bad your stomach hurts.
The only really noticeable change is how much more protective of you he is. Your time of the month hits, and Alastor hates being more than a few moments from you. He growls, pins his ears, and his antlers grow when people get too close to you. He's more prone to letting you snuggle with him when you want, trying to comfort you.
Angel Dust
Another who volunteered. His girl besties insist he doesn't have to do this, he's got the pass. He still wants to do it though, for solidarity.
He also starts on 4 and handles it well. He handles all of the levels pretty well, even 10. By 7 it's obvious he's sore, maybe a bit more withdrawn, exhausted, trying not to move too much or eat too much. Just trying to find a comfortable way to exist. The sad problem is, Angel already has to do this after rough nights at Val's.
He's used to sitting being uncomfortable and aches in his groin and thighs, cramps in his stomach from muscles clenching constantly. 10 is the only level where he's visibly ill, hunched over, lower arms curled around his midsection protectively.
He and the girlies all curl up together and nap and chat and snack on easy to digest junk food and granola bars. He's the first one to say "I bet it's even worse for you gals, but I tried".
He gets it. He's one of the girls. Honestly, kind of becomes a favorite when the ladies have period problems. (If you're dating any of the others and Angel is openly your favorite after this it is gonna cause a lot of dramatic pouting, posturing, and tantrum throwing.)
Husk
I'm going full balls to the wall on Veteran Husk. This man has seen some shit and dealt with his fair share of pain. Like Angel he takes it the best, with very little outward reaction. He's used to stiffness and nausea. The pain in his crotch is a little off putting, but it could be worse.
He's more cautious how he moves, rests more, occasionally a cramp causes his ears to pin back or a small hiss. Overall he takes it like a champ.
Offers you endless amounts of supportive words for dealing with this as well as you do, for days on end. Also is deeply sorry you even have to put up with this shit. Offers all sorts of tips on how to do stretches that help with easing cramps and stiffness without pulling something. Tips of foods/protein drinks to keep on hand to make sure you're maximizing how much nutrition you get. Man's a whole ass survival guide.
He only offers advice if you ask, though. He's not mansplaining how to handle your own body. He genuinely wants to help you, and that's the best way he knows how.
When you're on your period and just want something soft and warm he doesn't even bitch about it, he just settles on top of you and purrs, offers a massage, maybe offers a sly grin and a "no man left behind" joke as he helps you through these dark times.
BONUS:
ADAM
Would only do this if you challenged him, he has to prove his masculinity. He is definitely nervous as fuck though because he's seen yours. You and Lute already forced him to sit through a whole PowerPoint on women's anatomy and shit. He remembers how shitty he was to Eve, even if hers were in comparison, not that bad, just scary and new.
You forcing him to learn about and acknowledge female health is making him scared of pussy. This isn't gonna help.
3 and 4 make him whiney. He's uncomfortable. His groin feels weird. This sucks. "WHAT DO YOU MEAN THIS ISN'T EVEN THE AVERAGE?!"
By 5-7 he's actually on his knees, curled over his stomach. He tells you getting stabbed hurt less. This is making him re-evaluate his entire view on women (again he knows about trans people, but because of personal history equates periods to women. Wouldn't hate if a trans person had a period, it would just take his brain a second to process). He whines that you and Lute shouldn't be more badass than him.
"I thought men were supposed to be tougher and stronger. This pain tolerance horseshit is a lie. You guys suck."
He insists on going to 10 because quitting is for losers. He may actually throw up at 10 though. Every time the stupid simulators sends out a pulse and his stomach clenches, he groans. He's in the featal position, there are tears. One hand clenches his stomach the other is cupped around his groin. He's apologizing so much and he doesn't even remember what he's apologizing for. At one point its just "I'm sorry...oh fuck this...sorry about...ugh just...just men?! I guess. Fucking shit ass. Men suck. Women are...fucking great. Aces. You do this shit every month? For like 5 days....what the fuck. What the fuck what the fuck."
You feel a little bad, but Lute is definitely filming this. Afterwards, he tells you you're a badass and any person shit talking people for bitching about period pain (Not that a lot of Winners do, but ya know, obviously they let some questionable people into Heaven if Adam and Lute got by) he's gonna beat the shit out of them. Like "Do you even fucking know, bitch? They're literally so much fucking better than you. Absolute queens. You try doing literally anything when it feels like your dick is falling off and your insides are trying to claw outside your body!"
#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel alastor#hazbin hotel vox#hazbin hotel lucifer#vox x reader#hazbin hotel valentino#lucifer x reader#hazbin hotel angel dust#hazbin hotel husk#alastor x reader#hazbin hotel adam
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Ethical dilemma
Therapist!ellie
CW: smut, MDNI, dom!ellie, bratsub!reader, sexual tension is fuckin palpable, blindfold, hypnosis, walked through orgasm, talks of masturbation, mutual pining but there’s laws oh no!, no y/n, no pdor
A/N: I fear this is so self-indulgent I will not be elaborating
X
“Highly unethical,” the auburn haired woman gives a small laugh, standing from her seat to walk you out as she always did. You’d asked about the details of the girl you see in her waiting room after you every Thursday. Dr. Williams was not privy to your sexual endeavors that came from her own hands…well her office for this manner.
She was a good therapist, best you’d ever had truly. Sure she understood all the lesbian lingo, formalities and functions that didn’t need to be gaysplaned to an unfortunate witness. But it felt as if she truly understood you, had a true knack to play out your actions before you ever thought of them. It was her job to fix your fuckups, not predict them.
She felt it, when you changed. How much thicker the air got, how she could slice it with her knife. The way your body expanded in her chair shifted, opening your chest for sight. Your gaze started to only focus on her, directed, pointed even, letting your lips open. When you started drawling out moments of your sexual endeavors down to every touch, how you tried to read her as she read you. You tried to make her crack, see any sense of appeal, to which she responded akin to a brick fucking wall.
Hell she knew your ‘new hookup’ was a sham, you were just dying to plead to her how unsatisfied ‘she’ left you. She knew the person you were, she knew you best after all, didn’t she now? You’d never stay, and she clocked it.
But she played your game, nodding along, letting you babble about all the times you had to finish yourself off afterwards.
She’d let herself have that, the pleasure of thought, the images of your panting breath, dry fingers, and cracked lips. In another life she’d agree to help you out, fix your ache. But Ellie was an ethical woman, level-headed, and morally sound, this was not her circus to corral.
She’d just remind you to focus on yourself, in whatever form that came.
‘Tell me to fuck myself’ you’d pray in your mind, begging for a mere innuendo from her, anything to use for later. You wished she’d talk you through it, and she would, in another life.
The entire time you’re rambling on she’d think of the ways she would walk you through it, praising you for how good you were doing, how beautiful you looked messy and broken down just for her. But a respected woman has limitations, rules, structures built exiling that from her will, “is there a reason you keep going back to her? Even though you don’t feel satisfied?”
“I need it,” you remark frankly, desire white hot that ate away at your skin like a bad infection.
“You need sex?” Ellie questions, her eyes forming into a squint as her head cocks. She cant seem to write this down, engulfed by your blatant admission.
“Don’t we all doctor…don’t you?” came out utterly direct, shifting your weight to your forearms that now rested on your thighs that allowed your blouse to reveal the peaks of your breasts. Maybe you were trying to intimidate her, and maybe it worked.
“This isn’t about me,” she said, but not what she thought, and you clocked it. The way her teeth drew in her bottom lip, the furrow of her brows, busying her gaze down to her blank paper. Never mustering up a reason to record your sessions, what was she to say? Lines blurring to an extent that shouldn’t allow you to still be here.
“But isn’t it?” you dart back, a grin easing up your lips, equally as maniacal as it was sensual. A pleading request for her to sink her teeth into, to rip the flesh from bone.
She should have asked you to never return, refer you to another doctor. Suddenly so aware of her surroundings, breaking herself from your delusions, “thats time, I’ll walk you out,” but she couldn’t, giving you a pitied smile, standing from her chair.
-
“Id like to try something new today,” Ellie says, an air of hesitancy rings through your ears.
“You going to reveal the skeletons in your closet Doctor?” You say in a teasing manner, crossing your legs in your usual spot, but Ellie remained standing.
A glimmer of a smirk forming on her lips, “have you heard of hypnotherapy?”
“First a doctor, now a magician what a pay drop,” you snide.
“Do you trust me?”
She had you lie on her couch, uncharted territory, too spacious for comfort, for rules and barriers, “now close your eyes for me,” Ellie remarks, seated on top of the coffee table, inches from the couch.
“what if I cant keep them closed, will I fuck up the juju?” you say peeping at her with one eye.
“I have a bandana-“ knowing you’ll cut in with your sexual advances she cuts off your process, “-for hypnosis, would you like that?”
You tie the black cloth around your eyes, cutting off the essential sense, suddenly so aware of your body. Feeling the tips of your fingers, the race of your heart, beating the blood to your veins.
“Tell me what you see,” the doctor pries, watching your open mouth, the way it releases at her words. The steady rise and fall of your chest, the control she had over your undirected weight.
“its just me.”
“Where are you?”
“I- I don’t know, it’s white everywhere,” Your senses so heightened, feeling the breath as it escapes your throat.
“What are you feeling,” Ellie says palming her hands, eager to break you down. The desire the scale the walls of your mind.
“Frustrated,” your breath beginning to shorten, that eery feeling creeping back into your bones.
“what else?”
“it hurts- hurts so bad” the burning to be satiated, body still yet so charged.
“Whats making it hurt?” Ellie could help, ease your killing wounds. Would she, or would she watch as you wilt like a flower in the beating sun?
“I cant fix it, it wont stop,” you pant out, sweat dripping down the valley of your chest.
“Are you touching yourself?” she leaps, walking the tight rope as a foot slips.
“yes-yes,” your mouth agape, fists balling into a white grip at your sides.
“You need to finish, don’t you?” she revels in your pain, the unstilted need.
“I need you,” you corrupt, breaking the thin layer of morals that stood between you and your desires.
“Im there with you, aren’t I always?” she taunts, voiding herself of her principles. Allowing herself to play into her horrors, you were merely a symbol of prey.
“Please-“ you breathe out, on the cusp of release at the expense of her mercy. Blood running hot as your cunt pulses untouched.
Bringing her mouth to the edge of your face, you feel her breathe through your body, breaking through your flesh.
Ever so softly, “let me satisfy you.”
#ellie tlou2#ellie x reader smut#ellie williams x reader#ellie williams tlou#ellie williams smut#ellie#ellie x fem reader#ellie x reader#ellie smut#ellie the last of us#ellie williams#ellie tlou#ellie x you#ellie williams x female reader#ellie williams x you#ellie williams x fem reader#ellie willams x reader#tlou x reader#tlou part 2#tlou smut#tlou#tlou fanfiction#tlou2
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- nsfw, manhandling, coming in pants
One thing Eddie wasn’t expecting when he started dating Steve is just how playful he is.
Seriously, of all the things people say about Steve Harrington, it goes really understated. Eddie asked Nancy about it to see if Steve’s always been like this or if it’s just Eddie that brings out this side of him. But even when they were together, Steve was throwing Nancy into pools and twirling her around in the hallways.
It’s different with Eddie though, of course, because Steve’s not as worried about hurting or crushing him. So Eddie’s getting thoroughly manhandled on a daily basis and, well, he loves it.
All he has to do is snatch the remote from Steve or flick him on the ear or say something a little mouthy and he gets wrestled to the ground with the man of his dreams on top of him. Eddie obviously fucking loves it.
He just didn’t realize how much.
And right now is the worst time for him to find out.
They’re at Rick’s. It’s the best place for them to hang out. Secluded. No neighbors or parents or angry townspeople sniffing around. Rick is cool, always has been. They just hang out, smoke, music, movies, business, and then Rick is fine with them doing what they do. He even lets them defile the spare room. It’s safe.
It’s not safe for Eddie at the moment, though, because he decided to steal Steve’s gum out of his mouth when he gave him a quick kiss. Well, it was supposed to be a quick kiss, but Eddie dragged Steve down on the couch, bumping into Rick as Eddie made the kiss dramatic and messy.
“Alright, love-dudes, any closer and I’m gonna be in on the action,” Rick jokes when Eddie and Steve are practically in his lap.
Eddie drags Steve up by the collar, pulling back from the kiss with a loud smack. Steve’s hair is artfully disheveled, still caught off guard from the sudden lip-locking session. His eyes are slow to focus on Eddie’s grin, chewing on the minty prize he claimed from Steve’s mouth.
“Baby, that was my last piece.” Steve reaches to cup Eddie’s face but Eddie catches his hands first.
“It’s mine now.” Eddie blows a bubble to really tease him. “Unless you’re gonna come take it back.”
Eddie can see Steve toying with the idea in his mind, his pupils widening like an animal before it pounces. Eddie’s heart rabbits in his chest, just eager for whatever Steve’s going to do to him, wanting to rile him up even more, make it worse.
Steve grabs him by the shoulders, trying to lean in for another kiss to take the gum back, but Eddie dodges his lips. Eddie’s laughing, somewhere between delighted and deranged, as all the grabbing and swaying makes them tumble onto the floor.
Steve lands on top and Eddie’s breath rushes out of him from the collision of their bodies. It gives him an exhilarating head-spin, positively reeling all over as they roll around on the carpet.
Steve is relentless, stubbornly determined and Eddie realizes how much he loves it in moments like this. Like no matter how wild and obnoxious he gets, Steve won’t give up on him, won’t let him go. Steve keeps grabbing him, trying to kiss him, flipping over on top of him, holding onto Eddie tight enough to bruise.
At one point, Eddie almost gets away but Steve rips his shirt dragging him back. It sends a hot shot of thrill through him, feeling how much Steve wants him so viscerally like that. Something in Eddie just needs Steve to have him and gives in, letting Steve pin him down.
It’s only when Steve’s body bears down and wedges between Eddie’s legs that he realizes he’s hard. It hurts in a good way, trapped inside his jeans with all of Steve’s warm weight bearing down on him. He can’t tell if Steve notices, all caught up in wrangling Eddie’s wrists, playful fire in his eyes as he pins them above Eddie’s head.
Eddie’s mouth falls open and he feels something slip out. Maybe it’s all the air from his lungs or maybe there’s a breathy moan laced in there too. He can’t tell over the blood rushing in his ears and the fog filling his mind. He doesn’t think Rick’s paying them any attention, though, watching tv.
Steve doesn’t stop and Eddie fucking loves him for that. He bends, finally able to seal his mouth to Eddie’s now, holding him down where he needs him. Eddie lets Steve lick open his lips, tongue dipping inside in search for the gum that Eddie forgot all about. He might’ve swallowed it by accident, but Steve’s kissing him deep enough to find it anywhere.
It’s so good. Eddie’s stomach is doing ecstatic little flips, just lying there letting Steve kiss him hard and squeeze his wrists and push his hips into Eddie’s.
It all collides filthily in his mind, feeling wanted and trapped and taken.
Eddie doesn’t feel all the pleasure mounting until he’s already coming, wet warmth filling his jeans. His hips are moving in shallow thrusts against Steve’s before he can help it, moaning loud and long into the kiss.
Steve pulls back, both of them heaving for breath in the awkward quiet that falls over the room. It’s deafening silence for a moment, until Rick breaks it with a laugh and mumbles something about going to smoke before the door shuts behind him.
Eddie’s still foggy from the hell of an orgasm he just had, but Steve is wide eyed and wild haired above him. He’s still holding Eddie down, maybe stuck in shock, his face is flushed and Eddie can’t tell if it's from embarrassment or something else.
“Fuck, I’m sorry, Stevie, I couldn’t—” Eddie starts to apologize but Steve cuts him off with an even rougher kiss from before.
Eddie smirks into it, feeling Steve rut against the wet spot on his jeans, feeling how hard he is too.
So, he’s not the only one finding out just how into this he is.
#late but here's eddie discovering he's into being manhandled for sub eddie week heh#steddie#eddie munson#steve harrington#steddie ficlet#steddie smut#subeddieweek#stranger things
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Kidnapped by a dragon
Dragon x fem!reader || Tail play, size difference || TW: Kidnapping
A/N: When I say dragon I’m not talking humanoid dragon here, I’m talking full on dragon. Monster from mythology that is tall as a house and you are a tiny little human against him. Also, this is a bit more “romantic” than my other filthy stores. This was inspired by the Russian movie “I am dragon”, which you all should watch if you haven’t.
You were going to marry, your husband was a bad man, but you had to pay your debt of your family in some way. You made peace with it, you weren’t happy, you didn’t like the idea of doing it, but it had to be done. Nobody, not even you, was expecting a dragon to take you away, to kidnap you and leave you in a deserted island.
You were scared for what felt like eons, he didn’t try to scare you on purpose, but every time he talked, his guttural voice made you cry out in fear. You shivered like a leaf every time he showed up, until he decided to drop whatever food he got right at the entrance of the cave you claimed as yours. He made sure you were surrounded by gold, precious gems and all the luxuries the world could offer. But you? You were one of the treasures. Or at least that’s what the dragon told you. He was patient, you were scared.
But at some point, things changed.
Little by little he started leaving little gifts for you. You ignored most of the gold and gems, what were you supposed to do with those in a desert island anyway? But every time he brought you flowers, delicious food, or luxurious clothes, you warmed a bit more to him. You started to feel compelled to him. Started to wish he didn’t fly away as soon as he left whatever he brought you that day.
So you waited, and when he arrived the next day, you talked to him. And talked. And talked. You two developed some kind of friendship, companionship. You felt drawn to him, and he treated you like the most precious treasure on his whole hoard. You felt cherished by a dragon like you never felt by humans.
It didn’t take you long before you were feeling more than friendship for the monster. He flew you around, he allowed you to lay on his back as he walked around the island. You started to feel hot in your lower belly every time he called your name or talked to you for a bit. You understood those feelings were supposed to be just between a wife and a husband, but who was he if not your captor. You shouldn’t be feeling aroused because of him, he wasn’t even human. But that didn’t change how wet his voice got you. How tempting his scales looked. You couldn’t help yourself as you touched yourself at night thinking about how his skin would feel against your tiny body.
And that was exactly what you were doing one random afternoon. You were touching yourself in what your cave, naked and sprawled on top of a rock, the sun hitting your skin in the most amazing way. And then you heard the telltale sound of his wings. Your eyes opened fast and scared for a second. Other times he left, he was away for hours, even days, you thought you had time. But apparently he didn’t go far before he was back at the island, watching you intensely as you tried to cover your naked body, the task was fruitless, you had barely a sheet to cover yourself out there.
“Go away!” You screamed, your face hot and your embarrassment fresh.
“No.” His words sounded final. “You are going to let me see you, little treasure.” It was clear what he was asking. He was ordering, and your blood ran a bit hotter because of it. He never acted so commanding to you, he always tried to accommodate your needs and your human-ness. But now? Now he looked more like a monster like ever before.
“Wh-what?” You asked, confused and turned on, the prove of your arousal still sticky on your fingers.
“You are gonna take that cloth away, or I will. And then you are going to open those pretty human legs and let me see your tiny human cunt.” His words cut deep into your body, a new wave of arousal hitting you.
“N-no!” You responded, shaking your head. You really wanted to say yes, but that would be shameful, wouldn’t it? You couldn’t be aroused by a dragon. You couldn’t touch your most vulnerable flesh in front of a monster. But a spark of interest and anticipation was igniting inside of you.
“Yes. Don’t make me ask twice.”
“You didn’t ask.” You remarked, being intentionally obtuse. He didn’t like that. He growled and took your flimsy cover away, shredding it to pieces as he liked his pointy teeth. A rush of adrenaline ran through your body as you stood there, not able to cover yourself with your arms, just watching him as he repeated: “Open those pretty human legs and let me watch.”
You complied, telling yourself he was forcing you to do it, but deep down you knew it was a lie. You wanted to do it. You wanted him to watch you touch yourself. To make him desire you the same way you desired him.
“Keep doing what you were doing before I arrived.” He instructed.
Your hand traveled down your stomach, slowly, teasing yourself with careful fingers. Torturing him just a little bit. He growled at you, your blood pumping inside your veins so hard you could barely hear it. Your right hand was playing with your nipple, rolling it between your fingers. Tiny little moans were escaping your mouth as you played your body.
When your left hand parted sightly your folds, his eyes focused on your cunt, your pussy dripping. He lowered his head until he was barely a foot away, his nostrils flaring as he took your smell in. He could see how wet you were, you knew he could. He was so close. And that excited you. Your fingers circled your clit, slowly, your eyes never leaving his face right in front of you. He was so big. His head was easily as big as your whole body. You were a tiny human compared to his giant monstrous form.
He growled again, his big tongue darting out and licking your whole pussy in a fast swipe. You screamed. The texture of his tongue was harsh against your flesh, but hot, so fucking hot.
You kept fingering yourself, every once in a while he would blow a scolding breath, heat filling you as it made contact with your exposed cunt. Your fingers disappearing inside of you over and over, making the filthiest wet sounds.
But when you whispered his name as a plea, that forbidden name that villagers gave him, he lost it. He grabbed your body like you were a doll, so tiny in his claws that you felt like he could break you like a twig. That turned you on. You knew you shouldn’t be so hot about him being a literal monster, but you couldn’t help yourself as he manhandled you, sitting you on his tail. It was so big, your legs didn’t touch the ground at each side of it. But your pussy made direct contact with his lizard like skin.
“Ride it.” He moved your body against his tail, the scales and bumps over it rubbing against your pussy in the most tantalizing way. “What a good little treasure.” He murmured, his voice so deep that made your whole body convulse, your hips moving on their own accord. His skin was hot under you, your legs caging his tail and taking your pleasure off him as he observed you. His eyes were burning as he took you in.
“Come on, treasure. Come for me.” His voice went so low it resonated against his body, making his tail vibrate under the cadence. That’s all it took. Two seconds later, you were arching your back, your clit rubbing against the scales of his tail as your juices made the most obscene sound against his skin. Your whole body convulsed for a few seconds as he grunted, his claws gracing your ass as he kept moving your hips, drawing your pleasure higher.
You almost fell off his tail when your orgasm ended, aftershocks going through your body. He caught you in his clawed hands, cradling you against his neck as he took flight. “You are the most precious treasure in all my hoard.” You blushed, completely spent, as he led you to his lair.
#dragon#dragon x human#dragon x reader#monster#monster fucker#monster x human#monster imagine#teratophillia#monster boyfriend#dragon boyfriend#monster x reader
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unlucky || alessia russo x reader ||
alessia gets sick and has to miss out on the conti cup final, bringing up some feelings for both of you.
one thing you had learned early on about alessia was that she was not as slick as she thought. you had noticed alessia coming down with whatever was going around the training grounds just a couple days before the game. the conti cup final was a big deal, and alessia wanted so badly to win with arsenal, but you knew that wasn't going to happen.
arsenal's chances were good, but there was no way that alessia was making it to the game. she had been bedridden the day before with a migrane and a fever. alessia played it off like a minor headache, but you could hear the whimpers whenever she thought you weren't paying attention.
that morning, alessia had gotten out of bed and dressed herself up for the game. she had nearly managed to make it out of the apartment without waking you up. the crash in the living room from alessia tripping over herself was more than enough to have you running into the living room. you weren't exactly surprised to find alessia sitting on the floor, but you were definitely disappointed.
"come on, back to bed with you." you reached out to help her up onto her feet. alessia looked utterly miserable as you dragged her back into the bedroom. "what were you thinking less? you're still burning up!"
"i've got a game, and it's an important one," alessia told you. "i can't miss this, it's the final."
"you don't have a choice, and neither do i. if you really want to go, we can watch and support our friends, but you aren't playing," you told her. alessia pouted as she settled back in the bed with you. as much as you wanted her to get better, you were somewhat grateful that she was still too sick to really argue with you.
alessia was fairly quick to fall back sleep, still dressed in her kit. you usually loved watching alessia sleep, but this wasn't the same. alessia tossed and turned in bed, never quite able to get comfortable. your heart ached for her, knowing that the look on her unconscious face wasn't just because of her illness.
winning with arsenal was a big deal to alessia. she wanted to hold that trophy up for the gunners alongside her team. it was all alessia had been talking about since she signed. the season had gone well, even if there had been quite a few wrenches thrown into the plan. each of those times, alessia had been the picture of optimistic, but today she seemed utterly defeated.
"hey, how are you feeling lovely?" you asked alessia as she started to wake up. she sounded a lot less congested, but you weren't going to suggest going to the game for her. if she felt up to it, you were sure that she'd say something to you.
"i feel like everything i've worked towards doesn't matter," alessia grumbled. you sighed as you turned onto your stomach. the look on alessia's face was even worse now that she was awake. you didn't think that you had seen her look so upset since the world cup final. "i don't get it. i work so hard all of the time. why can't i catch a fucking break?"
"lessi, baby," you sighed. you tried to move in to comfort her, but alessia slipped out of bed. "come back to bed, please. talk to me, i don't want you to shut down, please."
"no, i can't right now. just, please, give me a few minutes to myself. i'm going for a walk," alessia said. you watched as she put a hoodie on to cover up her jersey. it was hard to watch alessia just walk out like that, but you knew that you had to give her space. she didn't ask for it often, and you knew better than to try and get close when she resorted to that.
you tried to stay in the bedroom, but you couldn't just sit there and wait for her all afternoon. it was hard, but you managed to get through most of your afternoon with alessia gone. she had sent you a couple of texts promising that she'd be fine, but that didn't stop your worrying. it didn't help that alessia's walk out turned into a pint before she made her way to the stadium to watch the game.
a part of you wanted to go and support your club, but you stayed in the apartment. you felt like alessia's bad luck was all your fault. the only times in the decade that you'd known her that she had gotten like this was after the two of you had begun seeing each other. it was like every single loss in alessia's life was your fault. she had hit a string of bad luck, and you were at the center of it.
sometime during the game, you had pulled out a few bottles of alcohol from the fridge. by the end of the game, you were definitely way past tipsy. you laid your head down, prepared to rest for a moment before you called the girls to congratulate them. instead, you completely passed out, only to wake up to alessia carrying you back into the bedroom in the middle of the night.
"less?" you cracked your eyes open. your head was killing you already, as if the alcohol had worn off just enough to give you a taste of what you'd get in the morning. "what time is it?"
"it's just a bit past 10. sorry that i stayed out so long," alessia apologized. she laid you down in the bed and pressed a kiss to your forehead. "the girls missed you in the locker room. katie tried to facetime you, she thought something was wrong."
"something is wrong, and it's all my fault. i'm like your little bad luck charm," you mumbled. you never would have said that sober, and alessia tried not to think about how long you had felt that way. "all the bad things happen because of me, and i'm sorry. you should leave me, find yourself a lucky girl because i'm like a goddamn black cat."
"i don't want a lucky girl. i don't think you're unlucky at all, not one bit," alessia told you. she pressed a kiss to the top of your head as the two of you settled down comfortably. you knew that it'd only be for a moment, but you were happy in her arms. "you didn't get me sick. in fact, you took off from your recovery to help me get better today. any time that i need something, you practically trip over yourself to get it for me."
"excuse me, but we are not all as clumsy as you, ma'am," you joked. alessia shoved your shoulder as you laughed at your own joke. "i'd do anything for you. missing today hurt me too, but i'm glad that you went to watch the game instead of getting drunk like me."
"oh my god, i'm an idiot!" alessia exclaimed. you flinched at the sudden shouting fit, which alessia quietly apologized for as she gave you a quick squeeze.
"i don't think you're an idiot, less." you leaned up to press a kiss to her cheek.
"you're injured. you've been injured for months now, and i miss one game because of a cold and i bitch all about it. i'm so sorry, i didn't even think about your feelings. how could i be so inconsiderate?" alessia looked like she was about to cry as she came to the realization that she had moped around for most of the day with you. you had gotten used to knowing that you'd miss things because of your injury, and alessia was always painfully careful about the things she chose to celebrate.
"don't beat yourself up, it's fine. i knew when i went down that it wasn't going to be on the six weeks side of things. this was big for you, and it was your dream to win with arsenal. you had to sit out on this game, but by this time next year, you won't remember how bad it felt when you're scoring hat tricks left and right," you said. alessia smiled, and you knew that she was thinking about that feeling. "but before you can do any of that, you've got to rest and get better."
"i don't know what i'd do without you sometimes," alessia admitted. she felt a bit foolish about how she had acted earlier, even if you repeatedly let her know that her feelings were valid.
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I'm just imagining doing some vent maintenence on base and getting stuck because your hips (+ utility belt) are wider than you thought.
And of course Soap is the one who finds you struggling to get free. He tries to be a gentleman and tug you out from the sides but he can't get enough leverage. So, he has no choice but to come up from behind, make you lock your legs around his hips, and put his whole back into freeing you up.
Meanwhile, Price's office is next door. He can hear your banging and struggling echoing through the vents. Out of concern he pops his head into the room to see what all the ruckus is about.
The first thought on his mind is that he really hopes whatever he's witnessing is consensual. The second thought on his mind is:
"What in the bloody 'ell are you two doing?"
Soap's is already pink with extertion, but redness creeps up the back of his neck. He glances down at your precariously inappropriate position and releases your legs from his grip.
"M' jus' trying to help." He offers.
Price huffs and walks over. He calls out to you, fingers prdding at your panting midsection. Yeah, you're stuck alright. You're definitely going to need more help getting free than from just Soap.
"C'mere." Price commands, using his fingers to gesture at his sergeant. "You grab one leg like this. Good, now, on the count of three."
You have no idea what's going on other than the fact there are two grown men with full body grips on both of your legs. Their faces are just over the curve of your ass as you can feel Soap's panting breaths through your trousers. You're so distracted you don't even hear the start of Price's countdown.
"Three."
"Guys wai-"
Instanly, you feel your hip joints pop from the pressure of the two men. The tools in your belt scratch angrily against the metal vent as you're pulled free. Unfortunately, they really did put their full strength into saving you, and so you slip away from the vent and belly flop onto the floor.
You sit up on your knees as you catch your breath. Soap and Price let go of your legs and stand up to their full heights. They press hands against your back and shoulders to stabilize you. Without thinking, you grab the first things for support you can.
Both men are stunned into silence as you sit there, out of it, and panting between their legs with your hands digging into their trouser clad thighs.
There's a cough from the doorway. It's Gaz.
"Am I...interrupting something?"
#call of duty#cod imagines#mw2#mw2 headcanons#cod mwii#john soap mactavish#captain price#kyle gaz garrick
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εïз┊𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐋𝐈𝐏𝐒 — feat. hanma shuji, inui seishu, kokonoi hajime, haitani rindou, haitani ran, hitto kakucho
synopsis. who knew catching him staring at your lips would turn into something more
— content warnings. suggestive, some hints of violence in rindou's, mentions of ki**** in hanma's
— word count. 1319
εïз┊author's note. i rewrote most of these because i read them again and they were absolutely awful 🥰🥰
εïз┊ h. shuji
his hand gripped the steering wheel as you sat in the passenger seat of his car, looking out of the window at the streets of shibuya while they flew by. he was insistent on taking you to meet his business partner, kisaki. he'd been meaning to do it for weeks, but never found a good opportunity until now. his eyes drifted away from the road in front of him and off to the side. the first thing that caught his eye was how forced you were on the scenery of the city as it passed. your eyes so intently looking through the glass as you lips parted. your lips. he couldn't take his eyes off your lips. "hanma, stop staring it's weird." he didn't even realize you were now looking at him instead of shibuya. a smirk formed on his lips as he hummed in response, making a quick glance into his rearview mirror before placing his foot on the break and making the car come to a halt. "what are you-" his hand cupped your cheek, suddenly he was mere inches from your face. "how can i not stare when you look like that~?" he cooed, his thumb gliding over your bottom lip. he let out a chuckle at the shock and confusion that laced your features before leaning back into his seat and driving off once more.
εïз┊ i. seishu
your eyes were focused on your laptop as he sat across from you, resting his head on his hand. you had begged him to go to the library with you so you could get some assignments done for class, and you were doing just that. all while he sat there not knowing what to do. don’t get him wrong, he loves spending time with you, he just didn’t know what to do at a library. he didn’t want to read, he didn’t want to interrupt you just when you just started getting motivation to do things again. so, he thought he’d admire you, anything and everything about you, silently. your hair, your eyes, your nose, your concentrated expression, your lips. and before he knew it, he just couldn’t take his eyes off your lips. "seishu? are you okay? you were zoning out." you smiled as his eyes widened, blinking rapidly as he came out of whatever trance he was in. his face grew hot in only a few seconds as he spoke, averting his eyes anywhere else but you. “sorry.” he was glad to hear your giggles instead of your teasing this time.
εïз┊ k. hajime
he sat on your bed, writing budget things in his notepad as you sat on the other side of the room, your chair turned to face him as you read something on your phone. it was a comfortable silence that both of you enjoyed more than you’d like to admit. he finished writing a section of numbers, his eyes raised from his notepad to you. he felt his cheeks heat up as you ran your finger across you bottom lip, deep in concentration on your phone. his grip tightened on his pen between his fingers, his heart beat quickened, he couldn't understand why. "haji, what are you looking at?" his eye twitched at your question. "quite teasing me, i know what you're doing." his eyes narrowed, suspicious of your innocence. "what do you mean?" "you make it so hard to not kiss you right now." he mumbled from between his lips, a pit forming in his stomach at the realization that you heard him. "you don't have to resist, y'know." a small grin found it's way to your lips, and he couldn't stop staring at it.
εïз┊ h. rindou
the man in front of you heaved as he ran in between two building down the alleyway, making you and rindou make a sharp turn to follow him. he had said something to you on the street without knowing rindou was there, that was how the two of you started chasing this man. you simply didn't want to leave rindou's side, so you ran close behind him in the freezing cold. you did your best to keep up with him, but in the end you were not built to run as fast as him. your pace slowed, your hand finding comfort on the wall of a brick building. rindou's eyes met yours as he realized you stopped running, instantly slowing his own pace to rejoin you. in turn, the man who creeped you out got away. a frustrated sigh fell from his lips as he quickly turned on his heel, striding over to you with a fierce look in his eye. he didn't look very happy, his eye twitching every so often as they bored into you. you thought he was looking at your eyes, but he was looking at your lips. "rin, you're staring, it's freaking me out." your face grew warm as he got closer, not saying a word but not breaking his gaze. "that guy got away because of you." his hand pressed on your stomach, pushing your back against the wall. "sorry rin.." your eyes widened as he spoke. "i needed to show him that your mine." there was a growl in his voice as his thumb ran across your bottom lip.
εïз┊ h. ran
he stayed close to you as you walked down the street, the cold air making you shiver as the street lamps shined down on the two of you. he had pestered you into coming to find his brother with him. he had seen rindou had run off somewhere to beat someone up, as per usual. you wouldn’t expect anything less from him. you glanced around, hoping that maybe you’d be able to see him so you could go back home, but of course that didn’t happen. though, what you did see was a pair of eyes staring at you when they should’ve been looking for his brother. “you’re staring.” he chuckled, giving you the same lazy smile he always wears. “i know.” his smile suddenly turns into a smirk as he kicks your legs out from beneath you, making you fall backwards. a small shriek came from your throat as he caught you, one arm holding you up, not letting you fall or even move a muscle as his other hand comes up to brush against your lips. your eyes widened, your face heating up faster than it ever had as you heart began beating faster at the close proximity. “aww, are you all riled up now?” his voice quiet, but nonetheless teasing and amused at the situation. he got closer, and closer, so close that you really thought he was going to kiss you. that was until he lifted you up, now standing upright as he began walking, leaving you a shocked and embarrassed mess. “let’s find my brother first, then you can go home, alright darling?”
εïз┊ h. kakucho
he laid beside you on the couch as you got ready for the movie night he’d been promising you for a few weeks now. it was finally time for you two to spend some quality time together for the first time in a while. so, as you picked out the perfect fluffy blankets, got some snacks ready, and brought over some hot chocolate for the both of you, you had realized he was watching your every movement, and when you looked close enough, you realized he was gazing at your lips most of the time. you stopped, standing in front of him with an amused smile on your face. “kaku, i think you’re staring.” you spoke, trying not to laugh as you tapped your finger on your lips. his eyes widened before he looked away. “i wasn’t.” his face got hot as you giggled at the pout forming on his lips. and this was just one of many reasons you loved him.
#[εïз] — fluffy time#tokyo revengers x reader#tokyo revengers#tokrev x reader#tokyo rev x reader#kakucho#kakucho x reader#kakucho fluff#rindou haitani#rindou x reader#haitani rindou#tokyo revengers rindou#tokrev rindou#ran haitani#ran x reader#ran haitani x reader#hanma shuji#hanma shuji x reader#hanma x reader#hanma shuuji x reader#inui seishu#tokyo revengers inui#inui x reader#inui seishu x reader#kokonoi hajime#kokonoi x reader#tokyo revengers kokonoi#tr kokonoi
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Quick thirst idea as a specific fic has been rotting in my brain since I read it, being a tutor for the house of hearth and bent over in her office after all the children have all gone to sleep while being rewarded for doing so well today with the lessons (or being punished who knows) struggling to stay quiet due to the walls not being the most soundproof 🥂
omg hehehe this idea is so good
(nsfw utc)
her hand stays pressed tightly to your mouth, preventing any noises from escaping. it's almost as firm as the way she has you pressed flush to her desk, skirt flipped up, her strap buried in your cunt.
she'd noticed an upwards trend in multiple of the children's grades, very pleased that you had proven to be a valuable asset after all.
well, it's only natural she'd want to reward you for doing such a good job, right? and how fortunate for her, it was obvious you fantasized about her being more than just your boss. you wanted her, and as time had gone on, she reciprocated those feelings (unbeknownst to you, obviously).
it was merely a matter of finding a time where her desires matched up with the perfect moment.
and here it was.
her hips slam into yours more forcefully, hand muffling your pathetic little mewls as your nails scrape the wood. "good girl." she praises you, feeling you melt beneath her. "you did such an excellent job, didn't you?" she asks, expecting no response at all.
her fingers push at your lips, sliding two of them into your mouth. she pushes on your tongue, making you gag and cry for her as she keeps you quiet around the digits.
"you're so tight i can barely move. you're enjoying your reward, i take it?"
you let out a soft whine, head falling forward, causing her fingers to tease the back of your throat all while her strap buries itself inside of you.
such a good little tutor you were. perhaps whatever was going on between you could be extended to something more now. after all, she was also in need of a personal stress reliever.
#genshin smut#genshin impact x reader#genshin x reader#genshin impact smut#genshin impact#genshin impact x reader smut#fem reader#genshin wlw#arlecchino x you#arlecchino x y/n#arlecchino x reader#arlecchino smut#💌─𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘭! ༊*·˚#💐─𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘢𝘬𝘴#🥂 ─ 𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘯 ₊˚ෆ#🪷─𝘥𝘳𝘢𝘣𝘣𝘭𝘦𝘴 `♡´
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So I haven't written a lot of meta in a while for anything, but I feel the need to talk about this because I just have a lot of feelings about it.
I want to talk about the two kisses Buck and Tommy have shared on screen. What I like about the two kisses is that there's this wonderful difference between them.
The first one is the one Tommy initiated with Buck. There's this caution and care and easing that Tommy brings, partially because he doesn't know where Buck stands and he's taking a chance on this feeling. He gives Buck the opportunity to move away from the kiss, to not let Tommy guide him into that kiss.
And even when Buck kisses back, Tommy is still gentle; Tommy is soft and he lingers. Tommy soaks in that moment.
And Buck's kiss at the hospital?
Oh wow it's beautiful in a completely different way. Buck has seen this man not only come to a bachelor party Buck organized despite Tommy being on call, but Tommy coming to Chimney and Maddie's wedding at a random hospital as soon as he could after fighting a 24 hour forest fire. Buck has seen Tommy make him a priority when so many people don't do that for Buck.
But here Tommy is.
Rushing to the hospital.
Tommy probably had his coworkers drop him off in their station's firetruck. Tommy didn't even go back to his station to change, he rushed into that hospital with his entire uniform on, still covered in soot.
Tommy was there for Buck.
Because Buck is important to Tommy. Because this was important to Buck. And Tommy had promised he would be there.
And there's this joy Buck has in someone caring about him that much; to date someone who actually thinks about what's important to Buck. This person who keeps being there for him even when work makes it difficult.
And there's a confidence in Buck.
In how he feels about Tommy.
In what he wants.
These two have been going out for weeks, and you can see the difference in how Buck acts in public with his boyfriend now, even if he's not out to most of his loved ones (yet).
That's so clear in Buck's actions. Buck takes control of that kiss in a way that surprises Tommy, you can hear it in the surprised moan. Because Tommy wasn't putting any expectations on Buck, he was okay with whatever Buck could give him. He never pressured Buck.
And this is what Buck gives when he's comfortable and feels loved.
And part of Tommy's surprise must be that no one actually handles him like this. People see Tommy's size and assume that he would be the one who would initiate, who would take control.
And Tommy?
Tommy melts into that kiss. And Buck can tell and he keeps kissing Tommy like that.
And you know, people talk about how Tommy should have warned Buck to wipe the soot off his face, but honestly how would Tommy have the brain cells to do that after a rough 24 hour shift and that kiss? I bet Tommy could barely focus enough to apologize to Maddie and Chimney for being late.
Buck is also so pleased with himself. You can see that when he goes upstairs. He's been making out with that man long enough to where people are casually chatting while eating wedding cake and he is just energized.
I just really love both of these kisses.
#911 spoilers#911 7x04#911 7x06#evan buckley#evan buck buckely#buck buckley#bucktommy#tommy kinard#tevan#kinley#firebeast#bucktommy meta#the bucktommy kisses
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ablaze | ln
the one where your boyfriend doesn’t pay attention to you.
lando norris x fem!reader
word count: ~0.9k
warnings: pwp (MDNI), oral (m receiving), orgasm denial, edging, overstimulation, slight dacryphilia, p in v, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it)
note: based on this request. kind of short and not proofread cause i’ve been sick all week! also the paragraphs in italics are meant to be a flashback? or whatever you want to call it
the whole apartment was dead silent; that was, without taking into account the loud pants that came from your boyfriend’s lips.
one of his hands was softly cradling the back of your head as you were on your knees before him, right between his thighs. your legs were sore, lips puffy and numb from how long you had been sucking him off.
and it was cruel, when you felt him twitching inside your mouth and a soft “fuck” coming from his lips reached your ears and you immediately stopped.
a shaky sigh left his lips when you rested your cheek on his thigh and his hand let go of your head, his eyes closing at the realization that you were denying him. again.
୨୧
“give me one minute,” he softly whispered into your ear.
“you said that five minutes ago, lando,” you groaned, your face hiding in the crook of his neck. maybe a few kisses would convince him to turn his game off and give you all his attention.
but of course, he was too focused on not dying, he barely even reacted.
he clicked his tongue when you insisted and nibbled on his skin, “let me finish this one game, baby.”
you sighed at his words and climbed off his lap after murmuring a soft “okay” before disappearing into the kitchen.
what you expected to be no more than fifteen minutes, however, turned into two hours. normally, the giggles and screams coming from his gaming room as he played with his friends wouldn’t have upset you in the slightest; but this time, when you were so needy and he was so unbothered, you couldn’t help but feel annoyed.
so when he was finally done and called you, you decided he wouldn’t have his way that easily.
୨୧
“you alright?” you asked, looking up at him from where you were still between his legs, his chest heaving and a few tears rolling down his cheeks. you almost felt bad.
“s’too much,” he mumbled.
“want me to stop?” your voice was now sweet, gentle, as the tip of your fingers traced little circles on the bare skin of his thighs, soothingly.
“no,” he quickly answered, making your smirk grow wider. despite of his plea, you stood up with a last kiss to his tip.
he looked at you as you climbed onto his lap again, your legs straddling his thighs as his shaky hands quickly reached for your hips and pulled you down on him.
“why are you stopping?” he whined, his voice trembling and still teary-eyed.
“i’m not,” you whispered, grinding your hips down on his cock, making his eyes close and his head to be thrown back into the headrest of his chair.
another tear fell down his cheek accompanied with a shaky sigh; and fuck, he looked so cute like that you swore you could’ve come yourself just from the sight of him completely spent before you.
your hands rested on his neck as you attacked his lips, rocking your hips back and forth at a slow pace just to keep him on the edge.
“need to be inside you,” he uttered in between kisses, fingers squeezing your waist.
“need to?” your tone was mocking, a light chuckle leaving your lips.
“please, fuck,” he insisted, with a thin voice that almost makes you melt. and you couldn’t wait anymore, hence why your hand slid under your — his— shirt. luckily, you were just wearing your underwear, which you easily pulled to the side.
a long, breathy moan left his lips when you slowly sank down on him, hands gripping your thighs.
“feels so good, baby,” he groaned as you started rocking your hips, slowly picking up the pace of your movements.
he leaned back, hips jutting up to meet yours; your walls clenching at how full you felt. and it was a matter of seconds until he was a whiny mess under you, fingertips bruising your skin as a string of courses left his lips.
your eyes fixed on his fucked out expression when his dick twitched inside you, soon paintings your walls white.
he was breathless, looked so out of it you almost stop; but he hissed as you slowed down and held you tight against him, hands trying to guide your movements and keep you going.
his whimpers filled your ears as you slowly fucked yourself on his cock, his face hiding in the crook of your neck. his fingers found your clit, fingertips lazily rubbing the sensitive nub and soon your pussy was clenching, earning a low groan from him as you came around him.
you cupped your boyfriend’s cheek with your hand once you had caught your breath, gently pulling his head back to look at him. at the sight of the remaining tears on his face, you softly chuckled before pressing a soft kiss to the corner of his lips.
“everything good?” you mumbled, noticing how his eyes were closed once more.
he hummed, “never felt better,” a lazy smile painted his lips now. “think i should start ignoring you more often.”
at his last sentence you simply rolled your eyes, arms wrapping around his body and leaning into him again, cuddling until both of you had enough energy to drag yourselves to your shared bedroom.
#lando norris#lando norris fluff#lando norris smut#lando norris blurb#lando norris drabble#lando norris fanfic#lando norris imagine#lando norris x reader#lando norris x you#f1 x reader#ln4#ln4 smut#ln4 fluff#ln4 imagine#ln4 fic#ln4 x reader
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I can't stop thinking of Eddie as Cyrano de Bergerac.
He's in the drama club, he's known for his way with words, his ability to bring whole worlds to life with them. Few people know that he also writes poetry, poems about love and loss, society and justice, whatever comes to his mind. Many of them are about a mysterious person with gold-flecked eyes and autumn hair, constellations on his skin, and the sun in his heart.
Eddie guards his notebook full of poems like a dragon guards his hoard of gold. And yet.
And yet Susie Bowers finds it where it fell out of his pocket when that asshole Tommy Hagan pushed him against the lockers. She reads it and realizes how devastatingly beautiful Eddie's words are.
It makes her think… think about her crush on Steve Harrington, the fallen king who is still the most eligible bachelor at Hawkins High. Especially since he refuses to just take girls home to fuck them. No, he wants to date. He wants to fall in love. It's catnip for everyone, but at the same time so frustrating because no girl has managed to catch his eye yet.
Maybe this little notebook is her ticket to a relationship with Steve Harrington.
She approaches Eddie and shows him the notebook, pulling it out of his reach as he attempts to grab it. She offers him a deal: she won't spread copies of all his cute little writings all over the school, exposing his deepest secrets for everyone to see and ridicule. In exchange, Eddie will help her sweet-talk Steve Harrington.
Eddie agrees and writes love letters to the boy he's been in love with ever since he found him drunk and depressed on the side of the road after his girlfriend dumped him. He had taken him home, listened to him ramble on about what he had done wrong, why no one would want to love him, and then put Steve to bed and watched him sleep until morning to make sure he was okay.
He left before Steve woke up, and the next time they saw each other at school, Steve didn't even look at him. It had broken his heart and inspired most of his poems, because nothing inspires like heartbreak.
And now Eddie can tell Steve all the things he thinks and feels about him - just to make it seem like it's written by Susie.
It seems to work, because Steve replies to her letters. His replies are simpler, less lyrical, but just as earnest. His words are sweet, and he's funny and thoughtful.
He's everything Eddie knew he was going to be. And Susie couldn't care less, she just wants to go out with him, have him take her home, have everyone know that she's Steve Harrington's girlfriend.
They go out. After a dozen letters, he gives in and asks her out.
Eddie cries himself to sleep that night.
Someone knocks on his bedroom window. Confused and a bit nervous, because he doesn't have only friends in this town, far from it, he goes to open it.
And finds Steve Harrington standing right outside his window.
"What -"
"Did you mean them?" Steve asks and he can't tell from his tone what he's thinking.
"What?"
"Your letters, did you mean what you wrote or did you just write down what you thought I wanted to hear so I'd go out with Susie?"
His tone doesn't really change, but Eddie can see his eyes shining in the dim light coming from his bedroom. He looks upset, and Eddie wants to fix it, but he doesn't know what answer would do that.
So he chooses the truth. "Yes. I meant every single word I wrote in those letters."
"Then why didn't you send them under your own name?" When did Steve get so close? And why is the window sill digging into his stomach?
At Steve's question, Eddie can't help but laugh bitterly. "Did you look at me, Steve? I'm the town freak! A fuckup. Trailer trash. A small-time drug dealer who failed his senior year. Why would anybody - why would you want to get love letters from me?"
Steve nods, not saying a word as he turns and walks away. And okay, he deserves it, he guesses. Hanging his head in defeat, he shuffles away from the window and face plants on his bed, letting fresh tears fall from his eyes.
Until there's another knock, this time at his front door.
He's out of bed in record time, almost breaking his neck in his haste to get to the door. It can't be - it's impossible that this is -
Steve is standing on his front porch, looking devastatingly handsome in his light-washed Levi's and red sweater. His date outfit.
He walks up to him before Eddie can say anything and cups his cheek.
"I've been looking at you, Eddie. All I've done since the night you brought me home and listened to me and took care of me, I've been looking at you. Looking and waiting. Hoping. Wanting you to give me a sign, any sign, that it wasn't just chivalry that made you do this, but the fact that you cared. About me. But you never did."
"Steve," Eddie whispers, but Steve isn't finished.
"And then I get these letters, and all the words, they sound like you. I couldn't be sure, not until I read the line, 'You deserve someone who wants to love you, all of you, the good and the bad and everything in between. I want to be that person. I want to love you.' You're the only one I've ever said that to. I knew it had to be you."
"But why? Why go out with Susie?"
"Because I had to be absolutely sure that it wasn't Susie. And after ten minutes with her, I was. I drove around until I couldn't… I had to talk to you. To see if you mean it. If you want to love me."
Eddie kisses him.
There's nothing else on his mind but the need to finally kiss the boy he's been in love with for almost a year.
Steve kisses him back, soft, tender, then deeper, dirtier.
When they pull apart, both gasping, Eddie leans in closer because his next words are meant for him and Steve and no one else.
"I want to love you long after my body crumbles to dust and my soul finds yours in the afterlife. I want to love you as the ocean does the moon, forever bound, forever following its call, until the end of time."
#steddie#steddie au#steddie ficlet#eddie x steve#steve harrington x eddie munson#steve harrington#eddie munson#stranger things ficlet#my writing#don't ask me where this is coming from but it refused to go away until I wrote this down
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a promise of forever
– tales of the voracity pathstrider
✎𓂃 falling in love; promising an eternity in return. aventurine's real name, ~3k word vomit
aventurine has realized by now that he might just be in love with you.
okay, love is a strong word, let’s take a few steps back.
he isn’t too sure if he’s ready to make that commitment yet, so… at least, he wants you to always be with him. to stay by his side.
he has to make the first move because you would never
he’s terrified!! he doesn’t want to be the first one to offer his heart!!
but if he doesn’t you’d be perfectly content maintaining whatever you have right now
like… boss and assistant? friends? best friends? roommates? lovers? not yet?
aeons he hated how passive you are
it’s so damn obvious that you liked him back to a certain degree
but why aren’t you trying to hold onto him? why aren’t you trying to take up more of his life like he’s doing with you?
he wants your smiles all to himself; wants your hidden softness to only be directed at him; wants your affection for himself, all of you, including your leviathans
he loves, loves how you’ve opened up to him over time
you’ve gone from a ice cold slab of stone to a wall he trusts enough to rant at, then the highlight of his life that he doesn’t want to let go of
the way you would get upset whenever he tries to do something dangerous, even if you and he both know he’d come out fine
the way you would pick up the phone regardless of when or why he’s calling, even if you’re off duty and annoyed at him ringing you at 2am
the way you would, without considering his feelings, cringe and back away when he accidentally brings you food you hate, but ultimately feed it to your scarf because you don’t want to waste it
he loves them all. your reactions, your expressions, everything
especially when he’s probably the only one to see so much of you all the time
he wants to keep hearing you talk about yourself, keep learning more about you, even the parts of you that no one’s ever known before
he didn’t want to tell you all of that, yet he wants you to know
except you’ve made it very clear with your personality that if he doesn’t tell you, you won’t pry
and, like, you can’t read minds. neither can he.
so you’ve essentially forced him into confessing :(
if he wants your friendship (and more), he has to be the one who asks
aventurine remembers how cold you were at the beginning, so much so that he briefly wondered if working under him was amount to torture for you as it was for a few of his previous secretaries.
you never talked more than absolutely necessary, you've always had that terrifying glare, and couple these things with the fact that he rarely saw your face? yeah, you didn’t look like you wanted to be there.
he tried to transfer you elsewhere. under topaz, maybe, or even jade, or even some other department but you've never replied.
but you've replied to his texts before and after that?
you've just flat out ignored the transfer offer?
does this mean you don't want to be transferred?
that's probably when his fascination with you started
you, who's so detached and seems to dislike him, wanting to stay as his secretary?
he tried to ask you about it once, but all he got was “there's still a year before my contract expires”
which, well, yes, fair enough
but you should also know that if he's the one bringing it up, you won’t be getting into trouble for breaking the contract
he drops it, though, because he knows that there might be certain things you don't want to tell him
or perhaps you don't understand
he feels like you're very bad with emotions and expressing your thoughts
you are, honestly
it’s a different story with the permanent offer he made you a while ago, though
“are you sure?” you asked, with rare anticipation in your eyes
he chuckles, “absolutely.”
you try to hide your joy, but the speed at which you signed the paper is telltale enough
he’s also promoted you from secretary to assistant
even though you’re pretty much his assistant already
you don’t really know how to feel about that part
does this mean you’ll get even busier? not really? will you still be staring at contracts at 3am?
then comes aventurine’s offer for you to move in with him.
you’ve managed to finally notice that the dynamic between you and your boss resembles that of typical lovers in the media, but what do you know? one, aventurine is probably unused to someone else’s company so he’s compensating for it, and two, it’s not like you’re versed enough in mortal sentiments to make an accurate judgement.
he cuddles up to you in his sleep
he’ll smack your face accidentally when he wakes up and stretches
“this is the twenty-third time you’ve done this.” your scarf morphs into half a faceless snake and push his hand back down
why the hell have you been keeping count
you’ve mostly lined your morning routine up with his
efficiency, you tell yourself, it’ll be easier to keep yourselves on schedule
which means you find yourself with him at the breakfast table more often than not
he’s eating normally, while you…
you have a leviathan chewing on the entire plate, and yes that includes the ceramic
what about you? you’re preparing presentations and drafting contracts, of course!
or sometimes fighting for your life in corporate emails :/
is starting the day together really still simply “efficiency” at this point?
you’re starting to think you’re lying to yourself as the days go by
maybe you’ve been living amongst mortals for too long
because you find him so precious that you want to hold him dearly and give him everything
he’s so scared of being vulnerable, but he’s willing to lower his guard around you
what is this foreign feeling? what’s with this odd desire to protect? to hoard?
like how dragons hoard treasure, or how crows hoard shiny things
has anyone told you you’re terrible at emotions?
you’re terrible at emotions
you’ve memorized every little thing he likes and every little habit he has
and he noticed! of course he noticed!
are you absolutely sure you don’t like him even a little bit?
are you absolutely sure you have nothing to say to him?
must he make the first move when you’re so blatantly obvious?
he really, really, hates you (lovingly) for this
aventurine eventually comes to terms with it. if he wants you, officially, he’ll have to bare his innermost thoughts first.
there’s a period of distancing, and a period of overwhelming anxiety and overthinking all on his own. but even then you didn’t pull away from him, no; you were patient. you’ve asked, then left him alone when he turned his head away, then you’ve kept it professional. you didn’t question him again after, either.
it stung a little when you acted all formal with him, but it’s your little actions in-between that convinced him to finally come out and say it. getting him coffee the way he likes it, letting him find comfort in your presence at night even if he’s suddenly closed himself off, ordering his favorite takeout when it’s a slow day, covering his openings when you find yourselves locked in combat… you’ve always been looking after him, haven’t you?
finally, finally, aventurine decides to confess.
considering how little he knows about you, he (surprisingly) isn’t too worried about giving you his heart
well, of course there is the tiniest amount of doubt and fear
but mostly he thinks you wouldn’t betray his trust. mostly.
you’re a walking green flag, after all
maybe with the exception of when you’re left alone with monsters
but the way you treat him? green flag. massive green flag.
even after he’s told you a little bit about his past, you haven’t looked down on him at all
he doesn’t think you’ve ever looked down on him
though, he thought you thought him despicable when you first met because of the way you looked at him
not unreasonable with the stereotypes against his people and all
but you’ve proven his assumption wrong on your first day
you were totally cooperative and really… well, not nice, but not hard to work with, either
despite your unresponsiveness, you’ve kept everything he said in mind
that’s not how one behaves around someone they find distasteful
and after spending so much time with you, he realized that’s just how your stare is
you sort of… look down on everyone without meaning to
you have no idea how relieved he was when he could finally be certain that you’ve never disliked him
also! he can discern between your stares now
your resting neutral stare, your happy stare, your disgusted stare, they’d look the same to the average person, but not to him anymore
(he was super happy when he realized he’s got it all down)
he’s learned to read you because you’re so reserved and detached all the time
oh how he wished you’d tell him more about yourself
before anyone asks, he did try to dig up your past
imagine his surprise when he found nothing, like, literally nothing
the one time he watched you eat a monster whole was the first time he learned something deeper about you
he then realized that it wasn’t a coincidence that he couldn’t find anything about you
anyways, back to the confession
he’s come up with an entire plan in his head, but he really has no idea how to execute it
he wants to make it as memorable as possible for you!
except… would you even like a grand confession (of companionship)?
in the end, he took you out to a fancy dinner under the guise of “just another dinner date with your boss”
he’ll tell you his feelings at home
he has an inkling that you’d prefer it that way. intimate and private.
“hey…” aventurine starts, sitting down next to you on the bed after his shower, “i’ve been thinking…”
you naturally pull the towel off his shoulders and stand up to dry his hair for him. “you think?”
“stop, i’m serious,” he complains, punching your stomach playfully before burying his face in your shirt. “hear me out, you oversized snake.”
that’s the first time you’ve heard that nickname. “what?” you can’t help but be amused at the creative insults, then you let out a soft sigh and shut your mouth.
“you know how you’re now my permanent assistant?” aventurine slowly says, wrapping his arms around your waist as you work on his head, “can i… can we keep having this arrangement?”
you reply with a hum, but your tone slides up towards the end, like you’re asking a question. he chuckles, of course you’re confused, you’re so dense sometimes.
aventurine shifts around until he’s looking up at you. “this. you and i, living together, taking care of each other,” he elaborates, his eyes half-closed from how tired he is, “can you… stay?” then, with a quieter voice, he adds, “with me?”
you take some time to think about it as you toss the towel aside and bring out the hair dryer
from what you know about him, this is a very, very big request for him
he’s essentially asking if he can rely on you
even though he’s probably relied on himself most of his life
he wants to put his faith in you? you’re flattered, really
it seems like he’s also checking off a lot boxes for what people call “love”
according the the movies and books you’ve watched and read, anyway
but he’s not calling it “love”? is this something else, then?
you start blow drying his hair, carding through his blond locks with your free hand
he relaxes into your touch
“well? your answer?” aventurine asks, a slight shake in his voice as he peeks at you nervously.
“you sound like the protagonist of a romance movie,” you remark, leaning down to give him a quick peck on his head, “is this what it is?”
suddenly, it dawns on you why exactly were there flowers at dinner
roses, no less
but jeez, you did not need to call him out like that
what happened to oblivious and clueless?
then again, you’re bad with your own emotions, but you’re horribly good at reading others’
he flushes and hides his face in your stomach
he just wants to hear your answer, not hear you point out he’s probably extremely smitten with you
and it’s probably worse that you compared him to the lead actors in a romance movie
is he so obvious? is he not subtle at all?
does this mean you’ve known all along? you just didn’t want to make the first move?
or do you not feel the same way?
oh no, he’s overthinking again
“aventurine,” you call, snapping him out of his trance, “if you don’t say no, i’ll assume this is a love confession.”
man, why would you say it like that? it’s not that he can deny it, but if you’re going to be so damn straightforward…
“it… it is, i suppose, in more ways than one,” he whimpers in embarrassment, “will you, then, uh, will you say yes?”
he wants to trust you with all of himself so bad
finally he won’t have to shoulder everything alone anymore
he’ll tell you everything about his upbringing, even the ugliest parts
he’s been yearning for someone to hear him, to see him for so long
will you be his person?
he’s so excited and so scared
more scared than excited, actually
there are more issues he’ll need to work through, but for now?
he wants your promise
he doesn’t think he’ll ever come across someone as perfect as you again
so he really, really, really needs you to say yes
as the low whirr of the hair dryer comes to a stop, you set the little device on the nightstand and sit down next to aventurine. you sandwich his face between your palms and make him meet your gaze – you’ll never get used to how mystically pretty his eyes are – as you flash him a lazy smile.
“if you’re sure you want me,” you mumble; it seems that you are just as embarrassed as he is, “then… by all means.”
just as he’s going to throw himself into your arms, you stand up
?????? where are you going ??????
oh, you’re just going to put away the hair dryer and the towel
and also bring a spare scarf back with you?
did you forget that you have yours hanging on your neck
he’s so over the moon right now he’s all giddy and all over the place inside
are you perhaps the same?
when you come back, he practically throws himself into your lap
you avoid his eyes
holy shit you’re cute when you’re flustered
you’re blushing
you, who’s usually so stoic and unresponsive, is blushing!!
and trying to hide your face without resorting to your scarf!!
in the end you give up and instead pull him so close that he can’t see your expression
he doesn’t know what he’s asking out, you think, he doesn’t know what he’s trying to trust
which makes it all the more endearing to you
and it makes you want to make sure you live up to his expectations
this little mortal has you wrapped around his finger, and you don’t find yourself annoyed at all
in fact you want to shelter him and coddle him so badly that you’re tempted to act on instinct
tempted to. you can’t, because of a lot a lot of reasons
again, seriously, you’ve been hanging around mortals for far too long
you gently press his face into your shoulder. “aven-”
“kakavasha,” he corrects, “call me kakavasha. please.”
“okay, kakavasha.” you don’t hesitate, and you move to massage his scalp. “your real name?”
it seems like he’s in no mood to talk, because all he gives you is a quiet hum in affirmation; you agree with him, you don’t feel like talking much, either.
you pull away slightly to kiss right above his ear. then you did something he would’ve never expected you to do – with your nimble fingers, you wrapped the extra scarf in your hands around his neck, gave it a few loops then secured it with the same knot you use to secure yours.
what just happened
you slowly pull away with a soft pat to the piece of cloth
did you just give him…?
you did. you did, you mad danger noodle of incomprehensible mass
two faceless creatures with drool dripping from their maws stare at him
they’re connected to the scarf you put on him
he’s feeling so many things right now
even if he doesn’t quite understand what this means, he at least knows that you’ve given him a literal part of yourself
you’re very into this idea of being with him, huh…?
boy, he’s so glad he decided to confess
because he would’ve never known had he not asked
and what do you mean he would’ve missed out on something so wonderful?
this is also the first time someone outside of his family has ever given him something so precious and personal
he awkwardly reaches out to pet them
they nudge against his hand happily?
that’s weirdly adorable for a creature that has a diet of literal monsters
and much like satisfied pets, they disappear into the scarf after they’ve gotten their fill of petting
“for me?” aventurine- no, kakavasha asks, tentatively running his hands across the smooth fabric.
“proof of my loyalty to you,” you reply, taking his hand and placing kisses on his every finger.
what you don’t tell him is that your promise will last for eternity and beyond – even if you fight, or part ways, you’ll always watch over him. he doesn’t need to know that. not yet, anyway.
“you…” kakavasha feels like he’s a child all over again. he’s safe, he’s not making a wager, he’s not going to win or lose here, he can finally take a breather. “you have no idea…”
he buries his face into you, grabs your sides so he can press his body tightly against yours, and he sobs into your chest. he isn’t surprised at all that the scarf around your neck would wrap around him too, and he’s just all bundled up in you.
“shh, shh.” you pat his back and rock him back and forth. “easy now,” you whisper, “i’m here, kakavasha.”
aeons, he really, really loves the sound of your voice, especially when you say his name. when it was aventurine, you were reliable, loyal, and above all, gentle; when he finally allows you to call him kakavasha, every syllable from your lips drips with unspoken affection and a gratefulness that he’s unused to.
maybe someday he’ll finally be able to proudly profess his love to you. but at this very moment…
this is enough.
#honkai star rail#honkai star rail x reader#aventurine#aventurine x reader#ares's voracity pathstrider tales
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Okay, SO! In the category of "I think it's possible that Eddie has a brain tumor/is sick in some way":
Eddie is acting weird. Eddie has been acting weird from the beginning of the season, and I know there has been discourse about "it's just that we haven't seen him so happy before" but I respectfully submit that multiple things can be true at the same time. Eddie can be happy AND it can be out of character for him to impulsively drop everything to take a helicopter ride with his new friend he met two seconds ago to see a fight in Vegas (the last time we saw Eddie be truly impulsive I'd argue was S3, buying a truck while in the midst of a serious crisis). Eddie can be happy AND it can be out of character for him to ask his girlfriend of five minutes to move in (and I recognize that we were given an explanation from Eddie in the episode, but Eddie is an unreliable narrator and his explanation also doesn't totally square with what we've seen previously - him rushing introducing her to Christopher tracks, him jumping into moving her into his house without knowing basic information about her life does not).
Then there are the Eddie-coded calls. The guy with the alien hand who is all about rigid self control and being the master of yourself - his body turning against him not because the control failed but because of a blood clot in his brain. And now the guy with encephalitis (the same condition that ultimately caused Chim to hallucinate dead people), who has amnesia and has forgotten the marriage that ended in divorce but recalls the happy time before that when his wife was just his fiancee, the guy who was experiencing chest pains that he thought was a heart attack only for Chim to say he was having a panic attack. They had Eddie be so open about his own experiences with panic attacks and coping mechanisms in 7x01 for a reason - he's genuinely doing better with his own mental health and isn't ashamed or afraid of talking about his mental health struggles. But looking at these two calls, the underlying reason for the call (alien hand, amnesiac/presumed stalker in vent) theoretically could have had mental health explanations, but instead both resulted from physical ailments in the brain. [Tangent: I also think there's something really interesting in the potential callback to S5 and the way Eddie and Maddie were sort of mirrors - Eddie with a seemingly physical problem that was caused by a mental health issue, Maddie with a seemingly mental health issue that turned out to at least in part be the result of a physical problem]
Then there is whatever they're doing with ghosts. Shannon's ghost has lingered over the narrative and was actively put on screen in 7x01. For Chim in 7x06, the ghosts were hallucinations because there was something wrong with his brain. For Bobby, I'm guessing his arc with the burn unit nurse from his past will be more of a metaphorical haunting, bringing up any number of old ghosts (but I'm also going to guess his wife will be one). For Eddie...unclear. Ryan was filming with Devin (ostensibly for 7x09 but if they're doing anything with Shanon's ghost I'd be shocked if it wasn't introduced in 7x07, "Ghost of a Second Chance"), but she didn't exactly look like Shannon. Is she supposed to be Shannon? A dream or hallucination of a different or older her? Is she a real woman who just happens to look like her? If Eddie is hallucinating, then something is clearly very wrong. If it's a random woman and he's, idk, pursuing her in some way because he's drawn to her/the fact that she looks like his dead wife, that's still another point in the "Eddie is acting weird" column (because Eddie is a bad boyfriend and wasn't the greatest husband, but what he has never been is a cheater, even when he and Shannon were separated).
And then of course there's the will of it all. The will that Buck and Eddie haven't talked about since the shooting. Now, it's no secret I love the potential of a trapped dads experience circling back to the will, but I also think there is an argument to be made for a callback to "You're the guy who likes to fix things, maybe this isn't something you can fix." Because usually, when Eddie is in danger, Buck can do something about it, take some actionable step even if a futile one - he can dig through mud, he can drag Eddie's body out of the line of fire and into an ambulance and keep him alive. And for someone who, I would guess, still thinks of himself and the will as a backup plan/contingency, who if put in a trapped dads situation may not be able to stop himself from trying to save Eddie or, if necessary, sacrificing himself to do so, because in his mind, Eddie is Christopher's dad/who Christopher needs most, it is deeply compelling to imagine what happens if Eddie is in danger from something Buck can't fix, can't fight, can't save him from. And Eddie being sick in some capacity does that.
Anyway...I just think it would be Neat.
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Written for a @astrangersummer.
Who Wears Short Shorts?
Week #1 Prompt: Short Shorts | Word Count: 1469 | Rating: M | Pairing: Steddie | Characters: Eddie, Steve, Robin | CW: Mild Sexual Content | Tags: Post S4, Everybody Lives, Eddie POV, Platonic Stobin, Silliness, Fluff, Hair Removal, Getting Together, Blame it on Nair Fumes
Letting himself inside, Eddie looks around, and the house seems empty, even if Steve's car is in the driveway. He pauses, and he's pretty sure he hears the faint sound of music coming from upstairs.
"Hey! Steve?!" Eddie screams, and waits. Nothing.
So, he climbs the staircase, and that's when he hears that the music is coming from the bathroom. He can also hear Steve and Robin talking, arguing, laughing.
When he gets to the doorway, he's very confused.
Very, very confused.
"What exactly is going on here?" Eddie asks, looking back and forth between Steve and Robin, both standing in the bathroom, wearing short shorts, white lotion slathered all over their legs, "And what's that smell?"
Eddie pulls his shirt up over his nose. It smells like some of the chemicals that Wayne sometimes comes home smelling like after a shift at the plant.
It's caustic. Burning his eyes and nose.
Robin wiggles her leg in his direction, "Nair."
"Hold still!" Steve chides her, trying to get her to stop moving without messing up the application.
"Nair," Eddie repeats.
"Nair," Steve confirms.
"And…"
"Who wears short shorts? We wear short shorts! If you dare wear short shorts, Nair for short shorts!" Robin and Steve both sing-song together, loudly, over the already loud music, waving their arms, legs kicking up together into a kickline, the idea of not moving around, obviously long forgotten.
And, oh. Steve's limber.
Flexible, and Eddie has thoughts he's not supposed to be having right now.
He feels insane as he reaches over and turns the music down, maybe a first, in his whole lifetime. He's not supposed to be the normal one in any situation. This is wrong. So wrong.
Like, he gets it. He watches TV. He knows what Nair is. Sort of. In theory. He definitely knows the commercial jingle. But he doesn't understand why this is happening right now. He thought they were going swimming. Not, whatever this is.
"You're using Nair? Why?" Eddie asks, because it smells like something that shouldn't be used by humans without proper ventilation. Maybe gas masks.
"Robin was curious, so I'm showing her how to do it," Steve says, like that's a normal thing for him to say.
"Okay, sure. Of course. New question, why do you know how to do it?" Eddie asks, as he mourns the loss of Steve's leg hair, that Steve is currently in the process of burning off with that eye-wateringly stinky cream.
"Swim team," Steve says, like that's an explanation. It's not. It's really, really not.
"Swim team," Eddie repeats.
"Yeah, for like, all that aerodynamic shit," Steve says, and Eddie can't help it. He smiles.
The kitchen timer dings, loud and shrill, in the small room.
"Is that so?" Eddie asks, leaning against the door jam, watching as Steve wipes the cream off of Robin's legs with a washcloth. Then forces her legs into the tub, one at a time, as he rinses them off. And Eddie can't tell if it worked or not, it's not like Robin's legs were all that hairy to begin with, at least not as far as he's ever noticed.
But, Steve. Steve's legs are hairy, just like the rest of him, and Eddie's curious. Morbidly, so.
Robin is running her hand over her legs, and Eddie watches as Steve just stands there, grinning at her.
"See?!" Steve says, excited.
Then she coughs.
"I'm gonna go get some fresh air," Robin declares, and Eddie wishes she'd bring a little in for the rest of them, honestly. This bathroom needs a window, desperately.
After she goes, Eddie looks back at Steve, "What about yours?"
"Takes a little longer, my hair is way more thick and coarse than hers," Steve says.
And, yeah it is.
Eddie doesn't want to admit, even to himself, what he thinks about all that body hair Steve has. But he definitely has thoughts about it. Lots and lots of thoughts.
"I'll do you next," Steve teases.
"The hell you will. I like my leg hair right where it is, Harrington."
"Suit yourself then," Steve says dryly, and he finally starts wiping down his own legs.
And yeah, he's losing hair up to his knee. Well, some of the hair. A little of it. Honestly, it seems very hit and miss as he wipes it away. Most of his leg hair just looks a little melted, singed, curled.
Damaged, not removed.
"Is it not working?" Eddie asks, curious what the plan is here.
"Well, it's not perfect," Steve laughs, and it looks pretty bad, but Steve doesn't seem to care, as he adds onto his thought with a breezy, "Oh well."
"Are you just gonna leave it like that?" Eddie asks. Because, honestly. No.
Steve just shrugs, "I guess I could shave them."
And Eddie is pretty sure his brain short circuits, because the next thing that comes out of his mouth is totally against his will, "Can I shave them for you?"
Steve stops, looks at him, then laughs, shrugging his shoulders, "Sure. Okay."
Eddie isn't sure why he asked that, and he feels like his cheeks are on fire. Steve reaches into the medicine cabinet, producing a razor and a can of shaving cream, handing them both to Eddie. Then he plugs the tub, runs some water, and wets his legs with a washcloth, before sitting down on the closed toilet seat.
Oh shit.
Shit, shit, shit.
"You want me to…?" Eddie asks, trailing off, waving his hand holding the shaving cream towards Steve's legs.
"You're the one that asked," Steve says, teasing him.
Eddie swallows, kneeling in front of Steve, squeezing some of the shaving foam onto his palm, and then runs it up Steve's leg, applying it, stopping when he gets to the knee.
Steve pulls up on his shorts, his already very short shorts, making them even more indecent, "Might as well go on up."
Eddie's dick twitches at the idea, but he nods, getting some more shaving cream and rubbing it up onto Steve's thighs.
Then he holds the razor in a slightly shaky hand, "You sure you want me to do this?"
Steve shrugs, "It'll grow back."
Eddie nods. That's not exactly what he was asking, but he grips Steve's foot in his hand, and starts running the razor upwards, gently. Trying to be careful. One stripe in, he leans over and rinses the blade off in the tub, looking back up at Steve's face.
And then keeps shaving, getting everything off his lower legs, before pausing, then just forges ahead. In for a penny, in for a pound.
He puts Steve's heel on his shoulder, giving him access to the underside of his thigh, and he's fully hard in his own shorts now, and he really hopes Steve won't notice. He's sure this isn't supposed to be that. He's not supposed to be getting off on this.
But he is. He really, really is.
He's such a goddamn pervert.
Then he sees it. The hard line of Steve's cock, pressing against his shorts. His tight shorts.
Eddie drops the razor. It clatters to the tile, and he laughs nervously as he reaches to pick it up.
What is he doing? What are they doing right now? It's madness. It's the fumes. They've gone to their heads. They've lost critical brain function, the both of them. That must be it. It's the only explanation.
Robin turns back up in the doorway, and they both turn and look at her. It must look crazy, Eddie between Steve's thighs, his leg hoisted up, covered in shaving cream.
"Oh, ew. No," she says, and disappears just as fast as she'd arrived, slamming the door behind her as she goes.
Steve chuckles, and Eddie gets back to work. Shaving, rinsing. Over and over, until Steve's legs are both bare.
It's weird, but Eddie can't help himself, and he runs his hand up Steve's calf, slow. Exploring.
And Steve moans.
Oh, goddamn.
Eddie suddenly raises up on his knees, sending Steve backwards, off-balance, falling against the toilet tank.
"Am I reading this wrong?" Eddie asks, chest heaving. Both of his hands clutching Steve's wet, smooth thighs.
Steve shakes his head, pupils blown wide, and Eddie runs his hand up, cupping Steve through his short shorts. Leaning forward, pressing against Steve, contorting Steve's body, as Eddie leans close enough to kiss him.
And he does, lips barely brushing, lightly, and it isn't lost on Eddie that he put his hand on Steve's dick before they even kissed.
Steve leans forward, surging into him, kissing back. Hand coming up to press against the back of Eddie's head, pulling him closer.
And Eddie's sure he'll die right here, for real this time.
If not from the lingering toxic fumes, definitely from Steve.
If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @astrangersummer and follow along with the fun! 🌞
Notes: There are lots of different versions of the Nair "short shorts" commercials, but here's one from the 70s, if you're unfamiliar.
#a stranger summer#week one#prompt: short shorts#stranger things#steddie#steddie fic#platonic stobin#steve harrington#eddie munson#robin buckley#thisapplepielife: short fic#thisapplepielife: a stranger summer
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