#you can't convince me that it wouldn't feel exactly like that
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"you should move in with me" Art's voice echoes off the bathroom walls, it's all so relaxing: the heat of the water around your bodies, his chest pressed against your back and his arms wrapped around you are so comfortable that it takes a while for you to realize what he just said.
"what?"
"you heard me" he murmurs against your neck "come live with me" an incredulous laugh leaves your mouth and you try to turn completely towards him, but his arms clench tighter around you and prevent you from moving enough to do so.
"may I ask why you are asking this now?" you move slightly to the side to see his face emerging from the hollow of your neck.
"I feel like we're ready to do it" his eyes avoid yours and focus instead on his fingers as they start caressing your shoulder "and it's also the next logical step in our relationship."
"You think so?" this time, despite Art's protests, you turn towards him: your breasts press against the boy's chest and his eyes fall down quickly before being brought back to yours by the hand under his chin. The tease is evident on your face and Art feels his ears warm up quickly to the realization of being caught in the act.
"I know so" and kisses the smile off your lips to distract you.
"My answer is not a no, but how do we know that our relationship is ready for this?" you ask him and, without realizing it, the agitation inside you rises: how did you know if you were ready for this step? and if you break up because you went too fast?
The tennis player frowns "what do you mean?" and the sight in front of you distracts you for a second: Art sits back against the back of the tub to stand more upright and listen to you better, his arms, after moving his curly damp hair out of his face, leans on the edges of the tub, his wet and smooth chest shines and his legs are open and bent to the sides to give you more space between them. If you weren't so determined to finish the topic you were having, you'd kiss him to death, but you're a woman on a mission and you can't get distracted.
"I mean, some of my behaviors might irritate you or we might fight about serious things and then we wouldn't be able to run away from our problems by going back to our apartment, we'd have to deal with these situations and be mature about what bothers us and-"
"love, you're getting worked up over nothing" he says and his expression relaxes into a smile: now that he understood that your reasons are motivated only by insecurity and not by the fact that you don't want to take the next step with him, he feels it will be easier to convince you otherwise.
"You see? this is exactly what I'm talking about! if we move in together we can't belittle each other's feelings and concerns like this. It wouldn't be healthy and-"
"love," he interrupts you again, and your hands that were gesturing in the air fall on his chest, your eyes avoid his.
Out of your mouth comes a small "…yes?" that makes the man in front of you chuckle.
"we're ready" his calm tone makes its way into your chest "we're 24 years old and we've been together since we were 19, we both have a steady job and we already know everything about each other, there's nothing you can tell me that will change my mind".
"what if we fight?"
"I can't promise you we won't fight, we fight even now that we don't live together, but it seems to me that we are pretty good at making up, if we fight we will solve it as always" it's true, you never went beyond a day without talking to each other, even if you were angry.
"what if we break up?"
"It won't happen," he answers immediately, his fingers move the locks of hair behind your ears and then rest his hands on your face, his thumbs gently caressing your cheeks.
His head lowers to chain your eyes together and you look up to facilitate his task "I won't let it happen", the security in his eyes makes you exhale a breath you didn't know you were holding.
Your eyes move around to look at the bathroom, "but I wouldn't be able to pay half the rent of this apartment"
"I don't care about that".
"but-"
"If you really want to pay something, we can split the bills," he answers hastily, at the moment Art doesn't care about how to split the expenses, he would pay everything if it meant he could spend the rest of his life next to you… he just needs your 'yes'.
Your face gets close to his, your lips a few inches away.
"okay" his eyes still fixed in yours
"'ok' what?" his smile gets brighter, he wants to hear you say it.
"I'll move in with you" you smile too.
"that's what I like to ear" he kisses you again.
Now he only had to ask you to marry him… but that will have to wait a little longer.
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Hope you guys will like it as much as I liked writing it! 🩷
(in this fic he still has long hair cause I said so)
#long-haired art dondalson supremacy#art donaldson x reader#art donaldson x you#art donaldson fluff#art donaldson imagine#art donaldson#challengers fic#challengers#tashi doesn't exist here... again lol
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I don't know what this is, but I woke up in the middle of the night with this in my head and it wouldn't leave me alone. I think it's my first attempt at buddietommy? I don't know, but I may continue it somehow. I'd love to hear thoughts!
•••
It's the first thing he thinks, when he comes to and realizes exactly where he is.
Not again.
It started feeling like the universe has a target on his back approximately three hospital stays ago, and Buck fights the hysteria-laced laugh that threatens to bubble out of him as he tracks the steady, annoying beep of his own heart. It's nearly impossible to take stock of what hurts this time, what with the pain medication undoubtedly hooked to his IV that's making his stomach churn, like it always does.
But there's no questioning the feeling of two hands wrapped tight around one of his own, or the low murmur of two tired voices speaking over his prone form. Buck doesn't bother moving, focusing more on reaching through that discomfiting haze that clouds his mind to identify who is there.
"... never get used to it," one of them sighs, and Buck can just about imagine him rubbing a hand over his eyes as he says it.
"I hope not," the other confesses, the callused pad of a thumb rubbing over the back of Buck's hand. "Could do without seeing him like this ever again."
"You figure out how to make that happen and I'll buy you a lifetime supply of your favorite beer."
"Careful now," Tommy, because Buck now knows that it's Tommy holding his hand, says with a teasing tone. "You'll go broke spoiling me, if you're not careful."
"Yeah, yeah, you and my son both," Eddie grumbles back.
Seconds pass in silence as his surroundings become more tangible. He doesn't move, doesn't do a thing to let either man know that he's awake. Buck simply breathes evenly, in and out, even when he feels a dull twinge of pain each times his lungs expand. There's a quiet rustle to his right, and a deep sigh reaches his ears.
"I hate this," Eddie says, his voice laden with something like grief. "Seeing him like this, after the last time. I know it's not the same. He's banged up but he'll be fine."
It sounds like Eddie is trying to convince himself more than anything, and Buck hates the way his voice trembles ever so slightly.
"Doesn't make it any easier," Tommy says, a hint of understanding in his voice.
"No, it doesn't."
A few more moments pass in near silence, and Buck feels himself drifting when Tommy speaks up again.
"You really love him."
His exhaustion fades as quickly as it came, and it takes all he has to stay still and silent when he hears Eddie's sharp intake of breath.
"Tommy, I..."
"It's okay," Tommy says, his voice gentle. "Eddie, it's okay."
"But-"
"But nothing. Do you really think I didn't see it from the start?"
Eddie doesn't say anything. Buck can't blame him. He wouldn't know what to say either, if he wasn't hyper focused on maintaining his illusion of unconsciousness while trying to remember how to breathe.
"I'm sorry," Eddie finally says, and there's a wound there that Buck aches to heal.
"Don't be," Tommy says with a laugh. "He makes it easy, doesn't he?"
"He doesn't think he does. He doesn't... he doesn't see it," Eddie says, and Buck feels the barest brush of fingers over his cheek that he knows for a fact don't belong to Tommy. "I wish he did."
"I know."
A thumb brushes over his birthmark, Tommy's this time, and Buck has to force himself not to lean into the touch.
"Maybe we can change that," Tommy says.
There's a beat of stunned silence, then...
"We?" Eddie asks.
"Yeah," Tommy says, an underlying uncertainty in his voice now. "I think that sounds pretty good, don't you?"
Silence falls over the room again, and Buck thinks that they might just all be holding their breath now.
"I do," Eddie says, his voice just barely above a whisper as if he's afraid of what might happen if he says it too loud.
"Good," Tommy says.
Buck doesn't know what to think. There's a part of him that's convinced it's all some elaborate hallucination or another hyper realistic coma dream, and Buck isn't quite sure how to combat that so he doesn't try. Neither of them say anything else, but the quiet isn't entirely uncomfortable. It isn't long before he feels someone take his free hand, and he knows that it has to be Eddie.
It isn't long before he's lulled back to sleep, and Buck's last thought before he slips away is that he really, really hopes that it's not a dream.
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Random Paladin Danse HC's That Make Me Smile
not that any of my minions know this, but i’m back into fallout and Paladin Danse’ ass is grass which only means one thing
fuckin
HEADCANONS
let the brain rot commence.
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He obviously loves that education, and is always, ALWAYS, searching for an excuse to learn more about dead America. And who better to learn from than a relic of the past? You!
On the other hand, my Sole was never a vault dweller, so she knows next to nothing about those broken gizmos other than what scrap they'll produce.
So in one scenario you have big bulk man exhausting you with curiosity, and in another he's literally brimming with information to teach you. Both work well in my opinion.
Literal big brother energy. That kind of changes if or when you admit to him that his ass is literally bigger than a star, but throughout your time serving with him it's very clear that he works well with a sibling-like relationship. You may see him as an older brother, or maybe you just hate him. I dunno man. But all-in-all, he's always the first one there. Always at your side ready to defend you from whatever your postapocalyptic world launches at you.
He's almost as loyal as Dogmeat. Almost.
This man stands CLOSE. Sometimes he doesn't even realize it; he just feels at ease being near you (especially if you don't use power armor). He's real caught on that savior mentality. Somehow he's only convinced that you're safe if he's just feet from where you're standing.
And don't get me started on firefights. This big booty military man will jump in front of you with no shits to give. You even land a couple shots on him by accident, but that's alright. He doesn't really feel it. He really should prioritize his own safety sometimes.
He never drinks if he can help it, but that's only because alcohol makes him giggly. He'll relax with a couple beers, but anything past that is dangerous for him. He simply doesn't like the embarrassment of completely switching personalities in front of his subordinates. Even you, believe it or not. He likes things "clean, by the book," blah blah. So many people are convinced that he lacks personality, but truthfully he just prefers to act tough. It makes him feel 10 ft tall.
He sleeps with a body pillow. 100% I will live by that statement. Think about it: he practically lives within a wall of steel and cushioned padding. He's more touch deprived than a goldfish. He probably can't recall the last time he genuinely felt a person, which isn't something he dislikes. There's moments when even a pat on the shoulder is too overwhelming for him. He wishes he enjoyed having that closeness with someone. There're many occasions where he longs for your arms to be encased around him or vice versa. He wants to love, but he doesn't exactly know how. So instead of touching you, he spams you with uplifting compliments and hugs his pillow in Dansey bliss.
He complains about rain and bodies of water enough to convince everyone he hates it, but what's interesting is when he's in your company. Walking around like a transformer all the time, he's always prepared for stormy weather. You however... ehhh. He doesn't like it when you get drenched (😫) so he'll immediately scan the surrounding area for shelter. If there is none, and depending on the direction of the wind, he'll situate himself to where you get wet (😫) to a minimum. He's like your personal hunky umbrella.
Every once in a while, you grow confused over the fuss. You may enjoy rain, or at least tolerate it, but he still wouldn't give a damn.
"It would be irresponsible of me, as your mentor, to allow you to catch a cold under these conditions." In other words, he's a big worrywart over your wellbeing. And he's more used to patching up battle wounds. A sickly fever? Not so much.
You'd think he would be better at knowing your whereabouts, but he definitely isn't. With his suit having so many blind spots and you being so low to the ground, he's constantly losing track of you; hence why he chooses to walk behind you. When you stop in Diamond City, you like to prank him a bit by slipping away and making him go in big brother panic mode. You've tried it in Goodneighbor once or twice, but it never works there. Once you're behind those walls, his eyes never leave you. Not once. He scolds you more harshly when you play games in that town.
He loves to feel useful, even with something mundane like reaching something up high for you or even hoisting you up through a broken ceiling or over a wall. He additionally likes to show off strength. He smashes through walls and doors like cardboard, and crushes just about anything under his gauntlets with ease.
On the other hand, he loves it when you feel useful as well. Sure, he can count back dozens of times when he could've dislodged a safe door or tore the wires from a terminal to deactivate turrets, but instead he chose to step back and admire your handiwork. And when you succeed, he always boosts you with praise.
The only hack he uses to style his hair is mud, sweat, and grease. And it still looks flawless every damn time.
There's no way in hell he walks around with all that cake and authority and NOT have an aggressive fanbase on the Prydwen. That just ain't so. There's a whole line of women in their baldheaded glory begging for him to notice them, and the hilarious part is he never does. Heroic actions and deeds in honor of the Brotherhood are what yanks his immediate attention. He's also trained enough soldiers to tell the difference between talent, potential, and kissing up. He hates those sorts most of all.
Keep in mind what I said about his awkwardness with physical touch, because when he's actually starting out in a relationship, it is so over for him. At first he almost wishes you'd remain friends just so you wouldn't give him heart murmurs every 5 fucking minutes. He also grows more protective over you than ever before, but that isn't surprising.
Give him a few weeks to settle into this new territory and he'll gradually adapt. You do your best to go at his pace, so instead of downright kissing him you peck him sweetly on the cheek. The more you do it the more he realizes just how much he adores it. Even now he still has a hard time expressing his feelings, so you have to study close for any cues he may give you. Somehow if you're just not skilled at reading him, he'll eventually get persistent enough to lean towards your level and sit jagged and redfaced for a while until you deliver.
It's funny to watch him try and squeeze into an elevator. He'll go the extra mile to search for an intact flight of stairs just so he won't look like a Jack in the Box. Watching him squeeze back out is even sillier. He has to position his shoulders and knees just right so that his pauldrons or helm won't get caught in the narrow doorframe. It mostly works, though only because of all the trial and error he's had to endure.
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alright folks it's 3am which means i have very pressing matters to attend to like sleeping
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Moon using his claws as head massager and making you feel like this thing makes you feel
#xit shh#yes i was using it a second ago and every time i do i think about that guy's claws#you can't convince me that it wouldn't feel exactly like that
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Thinking about that "If K*ylo R*n were a woman everything would be better and this character would have worked" post, but after some consideration...I genuinely would have still hated this character.
Like...Idk maybe there's something to be said for the still-subversive nature of characters like this being allowed to be horrible women, but I don't hate this character because he's horrible, or even because he exemplifies a bunch of things in fiction I'm tired of seeing, I hate him because he doesn't feel fully-formed as a character to me and I don't think the movies know what they're trying to accomplish with him from a narrative standpoint (which are, imo, the biggest Story Sins a writer can commit). All of which would still hold true if this character were a woman.
#I WILL say. this character wouldn't be as popular as they are (and they ARE popular. fandom is not just limited to pockets of tumblr) if#they were a woman. nor would The Popular Ship be r*ylo. that's not me scaremongering about misogyny that's just. true.#we have SEEN that be true again and again and again#the OTHER thing about this character is that...I feel like he was MEANT to come across as#'he's so tortured and pained and complicated' but then they never did anything to SHOW ME THAT COMPLEXITY#if I look at like...(idk using another Tortured Male Character Who Did Bad Things) Theon. I can get from point a to point b with him.#I SEE the things that influenced him and I SEE how he got to a point where he thought acting the way he did was the only way forward.#I do not see that with. the other guy (sorry I am trying SO hard to make sure this doesn't accidentally end up in the character tag)#you either need to show me where the 'horrible'-ness comes from or you need to commit to the character just choosing to be horrible#not every character needs to have some Deep Reason Why they do what they do (like they can literally just be evil it's fine) but you can't#try to convince me there IS a Deep Reason Why and then NOT EVER SHOW ME THAT REASON#they (meaning sequel trilogy) like...sort of tried? a little? I guess? but the 'trying' was...barely anything and then they#didn't ever fully COMMIT to it.#THAT'S the problem I have.#(the 'not following through on alleged complexity' is also one of the big problems I have with [character I also hate but whose#name I'm not saying for reasons of self-preservation])#and yeah maybe because of Subconscious Bias they WOULDN'T have been so wishy-washy on how Deep or sympathetic™ this character's#motivations were if they'd been a woman maybe they really WOULD have just made her straight-up evil with no Underlying Reason#(which yeah that WOULD have worked better for me I think?) but if we are saying 'this character is exactly the same but a woman'#.......no sorry. unfortunately a female character I can't defend this time.#(and I DID think about this. like 'do I hate this character due to a knee-jerk reaction toward men--even fictional ones--I consider to be#threatening/because he reminds me of people I don't like irl' or 'do I prioritize Hating Men' but...no I truly would just#hate this character regardless)#like I really do think my biggest pet peeve is when the story/creator themselves tries to hit me over the head with 'this character is#so COMPLICATED and DEEP and PSYCHOLOGICALLY INTRICATE' and then not ever actually PROVING that to me
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wanna crawl off to a dark corner and never leave
#sabi's words#I was. Such. a social disaster today like oh my GOD how many times can a person embarrass themselves in the span of 10 hours#first. in analytical history class I said a technical term wrong while I was convinced I was right and got corrected by not only the prof#but half the class also and. it was my first session. like. way to go girl. way to go. Great first impression#then. in the process of ordering a birthday cake. I got told that the baker wouldn't take my order#but the phrasing in my mother tongue was something like 'he won't work'#and I mistook it for him taking some time off and asked exactly that and got told that no I had entirely understood it wrong.#then. speaking to a colleague. she was quoting saying 'thank you' to someone. and. I thought she was thanking me. and said 'you're welcome'#and then. got offered hot chocolate and cupcake and refused and then accepted in one breath and then knocked amother cup of hot drink over#thank god only a few drops spilled.#oh god oh god I can't rememeber the last time I had been such a disaster and I do not think I will ever forget today#I've been cringing at myself every five minutes like pls let me forget let me FORGET#on the topside? im depression numb so I can't feel anything beside cringe or else I'd have had a heart attack by now from all i did today#yeah this was definitely tmi I hope no one actually reads the tags here
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It never gets any fucking easier does it
#bitch bout to do smth very stupid here#i've kept my distance for what already feels like forever n i really thought by now i'd be. at least on the way to functioning on my own#i can ignore it when i'm doin ok but the pull never goes away it's always there#then i get low n i just. can't think of a reason to fight it anymore#i feel like i got sold just another lie. that if i just stay strong n don't go back then i'll start learning how to live w/o him but#did anyone actually tell me that? did i just lie to myself? he makes me feel awful most of the time but if i feel awful anyway then why not#sometimes it helps for a moment or two#that's if he even wants me around anyway. could you go either way#cause i'm sick n weak n suicidal just the way he likes me but also he might be too focused on doll to feel like playin w/ me rn#i feel like everyone told me it'd get easier but maybe they didn't. or maybe i'm doin smth wrong.#honestly it might be my fault he's gettin worse again in the first place cause maybe he was right n i just need a villain in my life#someone to blame when everything's too hard#i guess i wouldn't know what to do w/ myself if he really changed like we supposedly want him to so.....#i hate how i'm realizing he was right about more n more things all the fucking time#i can't do this on my own. i need someone to go to someone i can rely on someone to hold me#others in this system got someone who actually cares about em n what do i get? fucking val#i try not to go there cause it's not healthy but lately it's been hard to convince myself this life isn't a punishment#hell was too cozy so they put me here instead. i don't deserve to be looked after. i only deserve to be used#i don't know what exactly it was i did that was so awful but. i can't make sense of it any other way#so there must be something. this is just me gettin my due.#why else would i have been made like this? wired wrong for this world in so many ways always needin too much#so stop bitching n whining about it n just take it like a good boy#i'm still a good boy if i rly put myself into it right?#spdrvent
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tw - non/con, manipulation, mentions of breeding, and unbalanced power dynamics.
Snow Leopard!Satoru, who's ecstatic the day his owner, Suguru, brings you home. He's the pinnacle of a spoiled pet, constantly showered in toys and treats and affection, but his owner's a busy man, and he tends to sulk when left home alone. He's had other companions before, another leopard hybrid who nearly killed him before being released back into the wild and a black panther who somehow proved to be a worse influence on Satoru than Satoru was on her, but you're supposed to be more permanent solution, another hosuepet to keep him company when Suguru can't. You're a sweet little housecat, all wide-eyes and raised ears, but still, Suguru wouldn't be surprised if you're begging to go back to the shelter less than an hour after meeting your new roommate.
Snow Leopard!Satoru, who falls in love with you immediately. Suguru practically has to keep him in a chokehold while you explore your new home, eventually curling up on your new bed. Satoru's on top of you as soon as he gets loose, purring obnoxiously while he runs his bristled tongue over your cheek. Suguru's half-convinced that your first day's going to end with bloody claws and bandages, but you only nuzzle into his chest and knead at the blankets underneath you. Satoru's a difficult cat to put up with, and Suguru's relieved that you, at least, find him tolerable.
Snow Leopard!Satoru, who's absolutely massive compared to you. The tips of your pointed ears barely reach his collarbones, and your wrist is only as thick as his fluffy tail. His favorite hobby quickly becomes carrying you from room to room despite your softly mewled protests, and he's not happy unless he's pressed against you as closely as possible. He used to force himself into Suguru's lap whenever possible, but now, he's unbearable unless you're sitting pretty in his. He doesn't even complain when you lose your temper and dig your little fangs (barely half the size of his - a poor imitation of a real predator's) into his arm, just grinning as he tugs at your ears and pinches your cheeks. He's not exactly a wild animal, but he's still at the top of his food chain. You're not quite a mouse, but you might as well be, compared to him.
Snow Leopard!Satoru, who's calling you his mate after less than a full month. You don't know what it means, often parroting it back as more of a question than a term of endearment, and Suguru just brushes it off as Satoru being deliberately irritating. He keeps it up, though. even after you start refusing to respond to it.
Snow Leopard!Satoru, who starts introducing you to new "games". You know you don't stand a chance against him, but somehow, he always manages to goad you into roughhousing, into squirming as he pins you under his full weight. He likes to dangle things above your head, to see how long it takes your instincts to get the best of you before your chest is pressed against his and you're pouting so adorably as you jump and bat at his hand. Sometimes, when you fall asleep mid-grooming session, he'll let his mouth wander lower than it should, and you'll wake up to his tongue lapping over your chest, his face buried between your thighs in a way that leaves you teary-eyed and warm. You've tried to tell Suguru, but you always get embarrassed and end up mumbling something as vague as 'Satoru's being mean to me, again.' In the end, Satoru only ever gets a slap on the wrist and a new reason to tease you, next time Suguru turns his back.
Snow Leopard!Satoru, who fucks you whenever Suguru isn't home. He planned on waiting for your first heat (delayed by your shelter suppressants and the stress of a new home), and he knows he's not supposed to, but he just can't get enough of having your smaller body curled up underneath his, your tail thrashing from side to side as he lazily rolls his hips against yours. You tend to whine, at first, to go on and on about how weird it feels and how much it hurts, but as soon he gets his cock inside of you, all those complaints tend to go away. It's almost funny, how easily your stupid little kitty mind gets all hazy and cockdrunk. He always loves you, but he loves you most when you're drooling and purring for his cum, begging him to breed you properly between hitched moans.
Snow Leopard!Satoru, who's not even mad when Suguru catches him bouncing your half-conscious, fucked-out body on his cock. He wants to be the best possible mate for you, and he couldn't do that if he wasn't willing to show you off <3
#yandere#yandere x reader#yandere imagines#hybrid au#yandere jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen imagines#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk x reader#jjk imagines#yandere jjk#yandere gojo#yandere gojo satoru#gojo x reader#gojo satoru x reader#yanderecore#yancore
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jealousy, jealousy...
- nanami kento x reader
your husband seems to be immune to jealousy, and you've pretty much convinced yourself that he just doesn't have it in him... or does he?
genre/warnings:
crack, fluff, jealous!nanami (he is in denial), implied suggestive content, mentions of pregnancy, gojo cameo (i just can't pass up the chance of him annoying the heck out of nanami ahaha)
note:
based on this ask, this is a little continuation to the secret wife! and this is in the same universe as love entries so gojo is married to the love entries reader! :)
series masterlist | oneshot masterlist
By all means, Nanami Kento is not a jealous man.
He knows his worth. And he knows you. Out of all people, you wouldn't try anything with anyone.
Even more so with Ino. He knows him too, and there is just no way.
So... he really shouldn't get riled up, especially when it was his shitty senior who tried to set him on fire—
"It's still beyond me, how you managed to bag her," Gojo remarked with a bark of snort. Both of them shared the same table in this high-end bar, an afterparty for the school's graduation, but Nanami was seriously considering to move after Yaga left earlier until this clown came. "And keep her a secret too. I mean, that's so foul! If I were your wife, I'd divorce you on the spot."
Nanami threw him a pointed look. "The feeling is mutual. I feel bad for her for putting up with you too. And please don't be gross and say things like you being my wife. It's appalling."
Gojo's wife being his close friend and former classmate was what foul, Nanami thought. Sure, he would acknowledge Gojo's relentless efforts, but still, anyone willing to be this shameless paintbrush's wife must lead a really daring life.
The strongest sorcerer rolled his eyes. "Nah, I'll have you know that my married life is full of bliss. I have a proof, look at my—"
"If you want to show me hickeys, I'll seriously report you for harassing me."
And to that, Gojo merely whined and pursed his lips, and Nanami finally had some peace. He really entertained the thought of going back, because Gojo wasn't exactly a fun company, and this was getting late, until…
"Hey, Ino—the one who always follows you around," Gojo suddenly said. "Whoa, you're letting him close to your wife too, huh?"
Nanami whipped his head to where you were, and true to what Gojo said, you were indeed there, talking animatedly to his junior.
You were all smiles, and Ino was every bit as excited as you were. There was nothing remotely wrong with how you were conversing. You two looked like a pair of really, really good friends.
Ever since word of your marriage got out and became common knowledge, you've been receiving the kind of attention that Nanami wasn't sure he preferred. While he hadn't intended to keep it a secret, he certainly felt that a more private life was preferable.
But the thing was… weren't you too close with him? If it were up to him, Ino could've had at least two steps back. What were you discussing anyway?
"You're a lax husband, Nanamin, heh," Gojo whistled, totally grinning because he won this fight. "I know you probably think it's harmless, but a puppy is still a dog, you know~"
A puppy... is what?
That night, that phrase was what going through in his mind over and over as he chugged down his drinks.
No way, no way... It must have been because he had too much to drink. He couldn't possibly!
The next time he felt that unpleasant feeling, it was on one night, at the comfort of your home.
Both of you had just finished watching a movie, still lounging on the sofa. You were blissfully humming, texting away on your phone at—Nanami looked at the clock—11 p.m.
Now, now, he wasn't one who would be checking your phone or such, but he couldn't deny the curiosity within him, because you weren't usually texting anyone this late at night.
"Hehe~" suddenly, you giggled and Nanami glanced at you in wonder. You seemed to be having fun.
Who... are you texting?
Despite telling himself he wouldn't meddle in your affairs, he gruffly cleared his throat. "Dear, it's late."
"Oh?" you whipped your head to him. "Oh, yeah..."
You were genuinely confused, your husband was folding his face as if he was sour of something. "Kento? What's wrong?"
But suddenly, his face lit up into a smile, kind of forced though. "Ah, nothing..." And suddenly he lifted you up from the sofa, making you almost yelp as you dropped your phone and wrapped your arms around his neck. "Time for bed."
However, what you didn't realize was that your phone's screen lit up just as the sender replied to your message, and Nanami caught a glimpse of it.
Ino.
A puppy is still a dog, you know~
The heck?
"Kento?" you asked again, and he immediately turned to you, unable to read the message. Still, his mind was reeling in many ways, and when he looked into your innocent, round eyes, suddenly he clicked his tongue, eyes slitting in dissatisfaction.
"Time for bed, dear."
Long story short, that night, your husband was somehow a little more aggressive than usual... even as he fondled you ever so softly at the end.
The third time, Nanami had enough.
He had just finished a mission when he got that call from Ino, informing him that you were at a clinic after nearly passing out.
Out of anyone else... how could you not call him first?!
He may be vexed, but worry was what clouded his mind the most. You were almost five months pregnant now, and to have this happening to you—
He walked in to find you lying on the small bed, your eyes lighting up when you saw him. "Kento..."
"What happened to you? Why didn't you call me?" his voice was rough, and your smile fell. You felt him gripping your hand tightly. "How can you—"
Ino, sensing his apprehension, suddenly intervened, "Uh, Nanami-san, it's not—"
Nanami turned to him sharply, causing him to gulp.
"We were... in a bakery when Y/N-san suddenly felt faint," the younger man explained. "Please don't be too hard on her."
"And why are you with my wife in broad daylight?"
"Kento, it's not what it looks like!" you squeezed his hand urgently. "We were just... trying to find a cake, you know..."
"...what?"
And that day, everything Nanami thought he knew was turned on its axis. Perhaps, if he wasn't thinking too much—if Gojo's words hadn't taken his mind, he wouldn't jump into conclusions this easily.
Your first wedding anniversary was just in a couple of weeks, and you had enlisted in Ino's help to find this one bakery that he swore sold only the best goods. Your texts to each other were solely about that—nothing more, nothing less.
"Aww, Kento~" you cooed as Nanami helped you into your shared bed once you got back home. "You got jealous, it's cute, and I'm happy~"
He huffed. "I was not jealous."
"Ehh, didn't look like that to me though~"
"Listen," he said, taking hold of your shoulders once he had seated you on the bed, looking straight into your eyes. "From now on, whatever you do... you have to contact me first, alright?"
"Oh—?"
"When you need something, when you don't feel well, when you feel like you might be in some kind of danger..." his tone was serious, emphasizing each word. "You have to reach out to me first. You don't go to Ino, Gojo, or anyone else—me. You go to me. I'm your husband, and I intend to fulfill that role well for you."
And he placed a hand on your tummy, gently caressing it. "And of course the father role for the baby too."
You clamped up, totally speechless. This unexpected development made your heart soar with a heap of giddiness.
"Yes!" Your smile was so wide and radiant that Nanami was sure he had started to blush too. Then you flung yourself at him, wrapping your arms around his neck in a hug. "And you know... you're already the best husband and soon-to-be father ever! So you don't have anything to worry about, okay?"
Ah, how nice. Nanami chuckled as he placed his hand on the small of your back.
"Mhm, and from now on, I'll take charge of our anniversary. You only have to take it easy, alright?"
And when you giggled, he thought having you in his embrace like this was enough to satisfy him—after all, he was a simple man.
Epilogue
"I know even Nanami gets jealous! Heh, heh, heh~"
Gojo laughed crisply, and Shoko snorted as they listened to Ino recount the story, with the latter scratching his head uncomfortably.
"I really didn't mean anything, and now I feel kinda bad," the younger man said, his head dropping. "Nanami-san seemed upset too..."
"Not many things can get under his skin," Shoko remarked. "I really thought he'd be more rational, but having an expecting wife must've taken quite a toll on him too."
"Nah, don't find more excuses, Shoko! Now is time to pay up~!"
As Shoko grumbled and Ino was lost in his own thoughts, a loud cough suddenly echoed behind them.
"Gojo-san... Ieiri-san..." Nanami leveled his unamused gaze on them, his glasses glinting in the light, causing the two gulp. "What are you two doing?"
#nanami kento x reader#jjk fluff#nanami x reader#jjk x reader#jjk x reader fluff#kento nanami x reader#nanami x reader fluff#nanami kento#kento x reader#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen x reader#nanami kento fluff#kento nanami#kento nanami x you#nanami fluff#jujutsu kaisen fluff#jjk imagines#jjk drabbles#nanami x you
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FREE USE WITH MIGUEL? LIKE ANYWHERE ANYTIME?
a/n: YES NONNIE, ANY--FUCKING--TIME. AND HERES ONE OF THOSE TIMES :^) idk if this is free-use or feral!reader or both. anyway, just enjoy it lol. like every time, this got away from me
special thanks to mona (@whatthefishh) for letting me scream this shit to her over discord + for helping me figure out exactly what 'free use' is lol
cw: smut (18+), free use kink, small very small bit of somnophilia (CAN'T ESCAPE IT), non-explicit oral (m-receiving), afab!reader, mentions of ovulation (+ period) horniness, fingering, cockwarming, fucking w/ multiple orgasms, the same Spanish pet name used over and over, reader is basically a bothersome cat, writer is so all over the place it's confusing.
wc: 2.4k (this was supposed to be a quick thot but wtvr)
---
miguel is a gracious boyfriend, he practically lives to please you. so when you approach him in the middle of the day with nothing but his shirt draped over your figure, he has a hard time rejecting your advances.
sure, he tries, but every time he gives you what he wants.
you're spoiled, really.
miguel works at home as much as possible. he hates having to leave you before the sun rises, walking away from a perfectly cozy bed and wet cunt (😳).
miguel convinces himself that Spider HQ can survive a day or two without him on site. he has several capable Spiders that do most of the heavy lifting for him and LYLA isn't afraid to take charge, sitting her holographic ass in the boss' chair.
he can set up mission plans and keep track of everything from his laptop, and he's always on call if he is needed for anything. the only issue is that working remotely doesn't work when he can't get anything done.
he's trying to go over notes from a meeting that was held earlier this morning.
he was supposed to be there, but you physically wouldn't let him out of bed. he swears you're a Spider yourself with the strength you have when you're especially needy and sleepy.
he smelled it when he woke up in the middle of the night to you mouthing over his boxers, that decadent sweetness that indicates you're ovulating.
you were desperate to get a taste of him, to fill that unbearable emptiness inside of you, whimpering with relief when you finally feel his fingers bury themselves in your hair to push your further against his bulge.
he learned early in your relationship that your insatiable appetite for him increases tenfold during your window of fertility (don't even mention your period). and so does your need for sleep. so he caters to your needs accordingly.
you passed out after convincing him to fuck the heat out of you, to snuff out the fire until your neediness recedes. apparently, the only time you aren't horny is when you're sleeping (though that isn't true... you wake up horny all the time??).
you've been sleeping soundly ever since, utterly exhausted by his thorough support, but he knows that once you wake up, you'll be crying for him again.
he crawled back into bed with you after telling LYLA to take over for the day, but after a few hours of almost suffocating because of the way you curl up on his chest like a cat, he got up to get some coffee and finish some computer work.
as soon as his warmth left you, you fussed. eyes still closed as you whined and moaned for his body. he shushed you, gently smoothing down your bedhead until you settled.
it didn't last for long.
you padded out of bed with bleary eyes, clearly looking for him when you walked into the living room. he offered you a quick "morning, cariño." before focusing back on his computer. he had to limit as much contact with you as possible if he wanted to finish his work.
just a few more pages and a couple of emails, and then he can give you all the attention you need.
his shirt brushes against your thigh like a summer dress as you make your way through the room.
he looked adorable with his loose white long sleeve on and black dad-glasses. his hair is still curly and fluffed, telling you he wasn't planning on leaving you anytime soon.
you shuffle over to the couch, sitting next to him with a sigh.
he doesn't react.
somehow, the minimal recognition that you're there, his adamant refusal to look at you, turns you on as much as it irritates you.
he's really trying his best to be a good boss, hm? trying to resist a temptation that's barely a foot away from him.
it makes you feel dirty and deprived. you blatantly rub your legs together, urging him to look. your gaze washes over his sharp jawline watching as it clenches at your soft coos.
"...baby."
"'m working, amor." his voice is still soft, despite the efforts he's taking to ignore you.
you huff.
"but--"
"not right now."
you scoot closer to him, strategically allowing the hem of his shirt to ride up on your thighs. so he's really going to make you do it...
you tug at his sleeve, taking his arm away from his work (though it doesn't look like he was working on much at all, he's been sitting on that exact page for 5 minutes now).
"not right now, mi vida..." he protests lightly, but he doesn't move away. he's not even trying, you think.
you smirk at his empty words. you can see the way he's looking at you: your messy hair, bare legs, the shadow of his shirt hiding away your most sensitive spot. his breathing grows heavier and so does his stare.
"i have work--" miguel is always so soft and sweet to you, melting in your hand though he has all the power to stop it.
"please, miguel? just one, for me?" his lips part as you place his hand against your bare thigh, slowly dragging it upwards until it meets your center.
he doesn't take his hand away, doesn't even pull back a single inch, instead, he instantly complies, cupping his warm hand over its entirety. he chokes out a low groan. you're not wearing anything underneath.
"ok, i guess if it's only once..." he whispers, already breathy. he's leaning over you, almost on top of you, forcing your legs to spread impossibly wide.
he watches as his finger rubs against your slick center, spreading your wetness until you're glistening for him under the late morning light. he pushes in slowly, so slowly, eyes flicking up to your face to witness the small o your mouth makes as he presses in deeper.
his mouth waters as he fingers you, he wishes he had enough time to go down on you, and taste your slick straight from the source. he knows how much you love it when he fucks you with his tongue and suckles on your clit. but no, he has work to do. he needs to get you off so he can finally focus.
"this what you needed, cariño?" it's all but growled into your space, his voice low and taunting. all you can do is nod with bleary eyes as your hands grip onto his thick bicep for support.
he adds another finger and thrusts them into you quicker, angling them just so his palm can gently nudge at your clit. he can feel you tightening around him already, fluttering with each pass that he makes against your g spot. he presses harder, drinking in your choked gasp and shaking thighs.
you're so wet, spilling over his fingers and dripping against his hand. the noises between you are deafening. a mixture of sopping thrusts, heavy breathing, and quiet mewls fill the still silence of the living room.
he's so good at this, too good at this.
how can he make you fall apart with just his hands, caress every sensitive nerve with a single stroke?
you're at the cusp of euphoria. your body, filled to the brim with pleasure, urges you to let go, to take what you want. but you don't want to. you want to stay at the edge forever with his hands on you, to be at the center of his affections, always just one breath away from transcendence.
you're not ready for him to stop touching you anytime soon, you realize. you still need it and after you'll need it again. you need him.
his glasses start sliding as he looks down at you, dropping until they're barely at the tip of his nose. he's focused, eyes locked on how he fills you again and again.
his fingers speed up, expertly aiming against that special spot inside of you. your hips rise from the couch, needing him as deep as possible. then it all falls apart.
you cry out, back arching and eyes rolling. your body is barely touching the couch under you and it feels like you're being lifted up by unknown forces as you reach your climax. white fills your vision and heat thrums through your limbs. you can't hide your one orgasm from him, it's too intense.
before you could recover, he slips his fingers out of you.
"alright, honey, we're done." he casually sucks your essence off of his fingers before propping his glasses back to the arch of his nose.
"ok, ok, i get it. you're busy." you pant, still pulsing from your high. and...he's already back to work. he wasn't kidding when he said he had stuff to do. "i'll just...be sitting here."
so you watch him get back to work, or you try to. the incessant scrolling, typing, reading, and muttering thoughts that accompany his work is usually enough to put you to sleep. it's an unusual lullaby that's attached to him. one that brings you the comfort of knowing he's near.
but he's hard.
he seems so relaxed, so content to work, but his erection presses so desperately against his sweats, outlined perfectly by the grey fabric.
so how could you not touch him? he clearly needs your help... and if he doesn't, then you need it.
you want to be good, you do, but when he types so effortlessly like that with the fingers that were just stuffed in your cunt, or when he looks over his dad-glasses to look at something like a hot fucking nerd, you can't help it.
it's been, what, 12 minutes? that's enough work for the day in your opinion.
you start slow, hesitantly, watching to make sure he's not looking at you (though he can clearly see you from his peripheral vision). you stand up on the couch right next to him. you're a bit unstable on the squishy cushions so you use his shoulder for support.
he looks over at you, confused as to why you decided to walk all over the furniture like a toddler.
you carefully maneuver over his arms to settle yourself on his lap. you're a koala around him, holding your torso to his, looping your arms around his neck and sharing your shimmering lustful body heat. he grunts when you scoot even closer to him, your bare pussy pressing entirely against his covered cock.
but he ignores it.
he doesn't say anything, barely even moves, and just continues to work. you pout a bit, but let him. you convince yourself that you're content with just sitting here and enjoying his company (despite the large distraction that pulses against your pussy, pressing so sweetly under your needy clit).
you listen to his steady heartbeat and slow breaths, the occasional sound of tapping keys. you nuzzle against the soft shirt that stretches over his chest. you're fine.
it's not like you're leaking all over his sweatpants, leaving a puddle at the apex of the fabric. you're not crying on the inside, so empty and fluttering around nothing. you're fine.
until you arent.
you lazily lift your hips above his, nearly head-butting his chin in the process. his arms lift to help you get settled, hands resting on your waist, as patient as ever.
you reach below you and he stiffens. he wasn't expecting you to--
your hand buries itself under his sweats, delicate fingers brushing over his erection. he breathes out your name when you squeeze him teasingly before pulling him out.
"what did i say?" he grunts, hand swiftly wrapping around your wrist. the words are lost on your ears as you caress the silky steel in your fist. it pulses at your touch. he needs this.
he says your name once more.
"you're working."
"then why are you trying to fuck me?!"
"i'm only going to sit on it." you give him an innocent look. you slowly lower yourself so your dripping center meets his before sliding your glistening lips over his hardness. "won't move or say a thing, promise!"
"cariño..."
"just wanna warm you, baby." you position him right against your entrance. "is that so wrong?" you lower yourself before he can say anything else.
you take him easily with how wet you are, and he fills you perfectly. he sucks in a breath at the feeling then growls out, "don't move."
well, you do move (is anyone surprised). you move a lot. but he moves too. harsher and more competitive. who the hell fucks competitively?
you moan over him, bouncing on his cock eagerly. his hands hold your waist, guiding your movements just how he likes it: fast and hard. his laptop, somewhere on the other side of the couch, is forgotten and probably long dead by now. so much for working at home.
you've cum at least four times already, but who's keeping count (you're not. you're so fucked out, you have to manually breathe now.)
he won't let up anymore. you asked for it and you're getting it.
"do i gotta fuck you to sleep, hm? is that the only way you'll leave me the fuck alone and let me work?"
you only admit now that you're eyes were definitely bigger than your stomach. you're practically drooling as he takes control once again, snapping his hips from under you, harsh and punishing. as if this is a punishment.
he has to carry you back to bed that afternoon. he couldn't just leave you on the couch, naked and shivering. plus you'd be a distraction with your bruised hips and fucked out cunt.
you murmur adorably in your sleep as your body unconsciously nuzzles further into his arms. he places you lovingly on the bed and you immediately curl up. he sighs, brushing your hair out of your face because he knows how much you hate it when it gets in your eyes or tickles at your nose during the night.
you look so cozy and comfortable. but so alone in this huge bed.
he debates laying down with you, only until you're in a deeper sleep.
maybe just a few minutes?
LYLA had a few choice words when he woke up in the morning....
#anon#miguel o'hara#miguel o’hara#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel o’hara x reader#miguel o'hara smut#atsv#2099
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Delicious | LN4
pairing: fem sainz!reader x lando norris
genre: SMUTTTTT, 18+ MINORS DNI, p in v, fingering, light choking, use of pet names (darling, baby, sweetheart, good girl, etc), cream pie, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it y'all!!!!), language, hold the moan vibes, dirty talk, Lando being a hoe
requested: yes!
word count: 3.9k
author's note: i LOVE me some brother's best friend trope
When your older brother first joined McLaren, you were unbelievably proud of him, so, naturally, you moved heaven and earth to make it to his first race with the team. Meeting Lando, you finally understood why all of Carlos' stories from before the season started were about his new teammate, and how much he made him laugh. He was friendly to you, and kind, and had a knack for making sure you never felt out of place. He also made your chest go a little tight, but you chose to ignore that feeling. Best not to complicate things for your brother.
It's been years since you first met Lando, and you can't quite use that excuse to convince yourself you need to avoid Lando. You still try, certainly, but it doesn't really carry the weight it used to, not with Carlos at Ferrari now. Would it still be messy? Maybe. Would it be a complete shit show? ...Probably not, right?
That little tendril of doubt created just enough space for that weird feeling Lando elicited to bloom. And now, with the Summer break giving Carlos time off, he's invited Lando to your family's home, for an entire week.
"Morning," the sound of Lando's voice snapped you out of your thoughts. As if it wasn't already bad enough that he was staying in your house, now Lando had the audacity to show up in the kitchen, voice gravely from sleep, with a pair of gray sweatpants hanging low enough on his hips to show the V-line of his muscles there. Your eyes trailed up his torso, allowing yourself to indulge in his tan skin and taut muscles for just a moment, before your gaze met his. A knowing look danced across his face, eyes glinting with mischief, as he smirked at you over his mug of coffee.
"Oh, um, good morning," you coughed out, embarrassed at having been caught. "How'd you sleep?" you managed to force out.
Lando took his time, finishing his sip of coffee before answering, "Slept alright. Couldn't fall asleep for a while, for some reason, though." You couldn't quite decipher the look on his face while he said it, but he didn't give you enough time to overthink it. "You?"
Your face heated immediately at the reminder of what exactly you'd been doing last night, instead of sleeping. "F-fine, thanks." It had been four long days where Lando had made himself seemingly unavoidable. Even at night, when you could close your door to the rest of the house, and lock yourself away, your thoughts strayed back to Lando no matter what you did. Last night, the ache in your core had gotten so unbearable that you'd touched yourself to the thought of him. It seemed that even the walls of your room couldn't quite keep Lando out.
"What's got you thinking so hard over there, Sainz?"
You schooled your expression, refusing to let him throw you off balance again. "Wouldn't you like to know, Norris." The coffee mug in your hands hid your face rather well as you lifted it to take a sip, leveling him with a look that you hoped seemed like a challenge.
Pushing off the counter he'd been leaning against, Lando took a step closer to you. "I really, really would, actually."
You allowed yourself to lean in for just a moment, inhaling the smell of him, before pulling back. "Too bad." Chair legs scraping against the floor as you pushed away from the table, standing and taking your mug and book with you.
"Oh, come on! You're really gonna tease me like that?" he whined, shouting at your back as you headed up the stairs.
"Gotta make you work for it, Norris!" you called back, retreating into your room once again, giddier than you'd care to admit, and telling yourself that you'd only left because you had work to do. Certainly not because you weren't sure how much longer you'd be able to hold on with Lando under the same roof.
Just three more days.
The loud splashes and laughter from outside drew your attention away from your book, for what felt like the hundredth time in two minutes. Sighing exasperatedly, you rolled over on your bed, craning your neck up to look out of your window.
Carlos and Lando were in the pool in the backyard below you, squealing like little kids as they hit each other with water balloons. You rolled your eyes at the childish behavior, even as you fought (and failed) to keep a smile off of your lips. You heard your father's voice ring throughout the house, and Carlos and Lando must've heard it too, because they quickly dropped their makeshift weapons at the call that they needed to get cleaned up for dinner. Your parents weren't terribly strict, but even they preferred for everyone at their dinner table to be fully clothed and not dripping everywhere.
Just as you'd made your way out of your room to head downstairs, you froze, finding a sopping wet Lando Norris in the hallway. Even after you (accidentally) ogled him this morning, you couldn't manage to keep your eyes on his as you watched the way the droplets of water fell off the ridges of his chiseled chest and torso. You hadn't quite noticed how close you'd come to running into each other, barely a foot of space between you, that seemed to shrink more and more the longer you stared. And you weren't the only one. The sundress you wore hung off your body in a way that made Lando want to memorize every line and curve of it himself. Looking wasn't enough - he'd always been more of a hands-on learner, anyways. And the way the gentle breeze swirled the skirt of it around your hips and legs made him want to find out if you were wearing anything underneath it. Made him want to rip anything he found there off with his teeth.
"Hermanita! Lando! Dinner in twenty minutes!" Carlos shouted up, from the sound of it in the kitchen, most likely helping your parents like the doting son he was. Helping, unlike you. Standing in the hallway, now only inches from Lando, chest rising and falling erratically as you tried to convince yourself that you should not fuck your brother's friend and former teammate in your parents' house with your entire family downstairs.
"Twenty minutes," Lando breathed, barely above a whisper. He took a final step forward, mouth painfully close to touching yours as his spread into a mischievous grin. "I can work with that."
His lips crashed into yours, hands gripping your face delicately as he did so, moving only after yours landed in his hair. Lando finally, finally, got his hands on those hips that had been torturing him, tempting him, for years, squeezing as he pulled you into him. Your fingers raked through his curls, tugging gently as you pushed him backwards into your room. He went willingly, grinning into the kiss at your enthusiasm as you kicked the door shut behind you, letting you take charge for the time being and falling to the bed when the backs of his knees hit it, hands dragging down your thighs as he went. For a moment, you paused, taking in the way Lando was looking up at you. Adoring. Reverent. Hungry.
His hands on your thighs urged you forward to straddle him, sliding his grip up your back to pull your torso flush with his. "God, these fucking tits," he groaned, squeezing you harder into his chest before sliding his hands around to your front, cupping them harshly. Through lidded eyes, you watched his hands, large, nimble, and veiny, knead your breasts while he hummed appreciatively, unable to look away from your chest for even a moment. "Been waiting to get my hands on you for so long, sweetheart," he heaved, speaking into your skin as his lips trailed over your exposed chest, just under your collarbone, punctuating the statement with a final, firm squeeze of your tits.
Before you could finish the whine building in you at the loss of his hands, Lando had yanked down the flimsy straps of your sundress, allowing your tits to spill out over the neckline. Lando swears he could come from that sight alone. "You're so gorgeous," he muttered, more to himself than to you, before looking back into your eyes, "so fucking gorgeous." His lips found yours again, stealing your breath as one hand reached up to ghost over your nipple, already sensitive and hardening from the cool air in your room, while the other lowered to rest on your waist, gently urging you to rock your hips against him at your own pace. "So," his kisses now landed on your jaw, "so," your neck, "beautiful. I think it might actually kill me," gently nipping at your pulse point before soothing the tender skin with his tongue.
Your breath had grown shallow from the attention he paid to your neck and chest, hitching as he tweaked your nipple just right, almost harsh enough to be painful but light enough to make you crave more. But what caused your breath to quicken was the feeling of Lando under you. Those strong, muscled thighs, bracketed by your own, felt so firm you couldn't stop your mind from wondering how they would feel if you ground yourself against them. The way they tensed as he moved, or restrained himself from moving as he tried to let you set the pace, felt so delicious against your thighs and through layers of fabric, you can't imagine how they would feel flexing against your core. Delicious as those thoughts were, they would have to wait for another time, because nothing was more tempting than the press of his hard cock against you, straining at the material of his swim trunks, the remaining water of the pool dampening your already wet panties.
"Shh, sweetheart, we've got to be careful," Lando startles you, the hand that had been on your tits gently closing over your mouth, and only then did you realize just how much noise you'd been making. Your cheeks heated at the realization, feeling your breath catching in your throat, rapid and uneven, whimpers and whines and a whole host of other, embarrassing sounds trapped beneath the firm press of Lando's large hand. You were so worked up that even that thought, the sheer size of his palm against you, how those thick, nimble fingers would feel between your thighs, made you whine louder, hips speeding up as you sought some kind of friction. Lando's eyes darkened as you ground yourself onto him, harder, faster, hand tightening around your waist and thighs flexing underneath you. He was holding back, you could tell, his restraint hanging by a thread, and every move you made threatened to fray that thread to its breaking point.
You wanted to make him snap.
There would be another time to savor this, to take your time, to memorize every inch of him, later.
You raised one of your hands from his broad shoulders, gripping the hand that covered your mouth and tapping twice. Immediately, Lando removed his hand, eyes filling with concern that he'd done something wrong, but before he could ask you were already whining again.
"Please, Lan," you begged, hips pressing down as harshly as you could manage. "Need you so bad, please, please," your voice was thin and breathy, and if you weren't nearly delirious from finally having this, having him, within your grasp, you might've been embarrassed by it. "Don't tease me, I c - can't take it."
Lando's head fell back with a groan, making no effort to silence himself as he did with you. "Fuck, darling, you want me that much, huh?" You nodded eagerly, hips continuing their grind as you felt Lando's cock twitch beneath you. "Such a desperate little thing, aren't you?" he asked, latching his mouth on the flesh of your breast, sucking a harsh mark into the delicate skin. Low enough that your family wouldn't be able to see, you realized, but dark enough that you'd have a reminder of him on your skin for the next few days. The thought made you flush with heat. The sudden bite of Lando's teeth on your tit shocked you out of your haze. "I asked you a question, sweetheart."
You blinked down at him, bleary eyed, "W-what?"
His grin was wicked as he looked up at you, "Aw, poor baby's already going cock dumb and I haven't even fucked you yet." Your cheeks heated, and he didn't give you the time to gather yourself enough to formulate a comeback. "I asked if you were a desperate little thing for me? You desperate for me to fuck you stupid, darling?"
A whine escaped your lips, unbidden, at his words, and the look in his eyes told you he wouldn't let you deny its cause. "God, yes, Lan, yes I'm so desperate for you, want you to fuck me so bad, I - fuck -"
The sensation of his fingers sliding your thong to the side scrambled your brains again, scattering any thoughts you'd managed to gather. The rough, calloused pad of his thumb brushed over your clit, and your body rocked violently into his hold, chasing the pleasure. "Keep talking to me, sweetheart, tell me what you want. Tell me all the filthy things my pretty little girl wants me to do to her," he whispered into your ear, lips going back to attacking your neck.
"W-want - want you to - ah- fuck me with your fingers, think about those p-perfect hands all the - fuck - t-time, want your thick fingers in me before you fuck me, Lando," you moaned out, pushing through even though your whines threatened to interrupt you.
"Good girl," he purred, sliding his middle finger through your folds, moaning into your neck at the feel of you. "So fucking wet f'me, darling, fuck," his left hand tweaked your nipple, as his right slowly sank a finger into you. The sound he let out was almost animalistic as he felt you clenching around him, reacting to the stretch that even one of his fingers made you feel. "Holy shit, you're so tight, baby," he lifted his head to be level with yours, wanting to watch your face as he touched you. "How am I gonna fit my cock into this tight little pussy of yours if you can barely take one of my fingers?"
The only answer you could give him was a needy moan, one that had his left hand going back up, not to cover your mouth, but to rest on your throat. "Shh, remember, sweetheart, you don't want your parents to hear us, do you?"
You shook your head fiercely, but immediately lost your train of thought again as Lando began to pump his finger in and out of you, slowly to let you adjust. His thumb landed firmly back on your clit, and the way he curled his long, thick fingers had him reaching a spot inside of you you'd never managed to reach before.
"What else do you want me to do, darling? Don't tell me you've already gone brainless? I've barely gotten started with you."
"Want more, Lan, want you to stretch me with your fingers so you can fuck me, want to feel you - oh, god," you barely managed to catch yourself before you screamed at the feeling of Lando pushing another finger into you. Even though he was aided by your wetness, Lando slowed his pace as he let you adjust again, easing into you as gently as possible as he maintained his circles on your clit.
"Want to feel me what, sweetheart?" he encouraged, curling his fingers to that same spot, this time hitting it hit his index and middle fingers and making your brain short circuit.
"Want to - Lan - w-want, I, fuck," you babbled, head falling to the crook of Lando's shoulder as you struggled for words.
"Come on, now, darling, be a good girl and tell me what you want. You do want to be a good girl f'me, don't you?" He chuckled lightly at how quickly you nodded, head staying buried in his neck.
"I- I want t-to feel you in me, feel your cock in me, feel you stretch me out with it, f-feel you fill me up - stuff me full with you, with your cum, leave me dripping with it."
The hand on your throat tightened harshly, briefly, before both of Lando's hands were off you and working on his swim trunks. "Jesus christ, baby, you've got a dirty little mouth on you. Such a perfect fucking girl for me, darling, such a dirty little thing, god you're perfect," he mumbled the praises into your mouth, stopping every so often to kiss you tenderly, hungrily, as his hands made quick work of the tie on his swim trunks, pulling them down enough to let his cock spring free. Your eyes widened involuntarily at the sight of it slapping against his stomach, the hard muscles of his abs and the red, leaking tip of his cock mesmerizing you.
You lifted your hips, allowing Lando to yank you closer to him until you hovered just over his cock, both of your hands bracing against his shoulders as one of his went under your dress to guide his cock through your folds.
"You want me to fuck you, sweetheart?"
"Yes, please Lan, please, ple-"
You had to cover your mouth with your own hand this time, the stretch of his cock making your eyes water, tears springing from them. Lando stared straight into your eyes as he sank you down onto his cock, bottom lip trapped between his teeth in a feeble attempt to silence himself. Both of his hands landed on your hips, gripping harshly as he held himself back from fucking up into you right away.
"God, baby you're so tight, you have such a perfect little cunt," he panted, eyes fixed on yours, not wanting to miss a single expression on your face. Finally, he bottomed out, the slow glide of his cock in you heavenly, fingers flexing against you as he forced himself to be patient.
A weak whimper left you despite the hand over your mouth as you slowly rose up, dropping harshly back onto Lando's cock and digging in your fingers at the sensation.
"Fuuuuuuuck," Lando ground out, hips bucking slightly up into you as you sank back down on him again.
It didn't take long for your legs to begin to shake, pace faltering as you grew tired. "Lando," you breathed out, head nestled in the crook of his neck again.
"Yes, darling?" His voice was thin, reedy, telling you he was just as affected as you were, even if he was better at hiding it.
"Can't - can't," your own gasp interrupted you as the head of Lando's cock hit a particularly sensitive spot inside you. "Too tired, need you to - god."
Lando chuckled, chest rumbling underneath your forehead, "You need me to do it for you, baby? You already too fucked out to move?"
"Please," you whined, unable to muster any embarrassment at the desperation in your voice. He knew he did this to you. Why bother trying to hide it?
Something in your neediness got to him, hands sliding up to your waist and squeezing as he gave himself a better hold on you. "That's a good girl. Don't worry, sweetheart, I've got you."
He lifted you off his cock, before slamming you back down onto him, hips fucking up into you harshly. The feeling of him manhandling you with ease was nearly enough to make you come on its own, but that combined with the way he kept hitting that spot inside of you, over, and over, and over again? You were so close you felt like you were going to explode.
And Lando knew it, too. Could tell from the way your hands scrabbled for purchase on his muscular shoulders, the way your head went limp on his shoulder as you gave him complete control over your body, from the way you clenched around him, and when he dropped one of his hands to graze a thumb over your clit as he fucked up into you, you were helpless to do anything but collapse into his embrace as you rode out your high.
Lando continued to hold you up by your waist, limbs sluggish and heavy, as he chased his own high, spurred on by your whimpers of overstimulation. But what finally pushed him over the edge was the sound of your voice, wrecked and fucked out, whispering weakly in his ear, "Please, Lando, please fill me up."
He came with a groan that he tried to bury in your neck, nipping lightly at the skin as he came down, chest heaving and moving you with it since you still hadn't managed to regain control of your own body just yet. The feeling of him painting your walls made you whimper, unintentionally clenching around him again, which elicited a deep groan from him.
"You keep squeezing me like that, darling, and you're gonna get me hard again."
You giggled, which earned you a playful swat on the ass from Lando, chuckling along with you as he stroked your cheek tenderly, admiring you in your post-orgasm haze.
"Lan-"
"Dinner is ready! Hurry up and get down here, we're starving!" The sound of your brother's voice jolted both of you out of your stupor, matching looks of panic on your faces.
Before you could say anything else, Lando whispers, "We're talking about this later tonight, sweetheart." Placing a kiss on your cheek, Lando lifts you off of him, hissing at the feeling, and setting you on your bed next to him before getting up and running across the hall to his room.
After you managed to muster the strength to move, you quickly fixed your dress, trying to make sure that your face and hair weren't dead giveaways for just having had the best sex of your life. You rushed downstairs, blaming your breathlessness on having run to dispel your mother's concern, and sat down quickly, trying to avoid any questions about what had taken you so long.
A few seconds later, Lando joined you, sitting across from you, eyes burning into you in a way that made you shift in your seat. That turned out to be a huge mistake, because just as your brother passed you the salad, Lando's cum leaked out of you as you realized belatedly that not only had you not cleaned up, but you hadn't even put your panties back on. You froze, quickly shifting back and squeezing your thighs together in an effort to stop him from seeping out of you, and miraculously, none of your family seemed to notice.
But the way your eyes widened told Lando exactly what had happened.
When your parents asked how the dinner was, you stammered out some poor excuse of a response, not really knowing how to speak to your family with Lando's cum dripping out of you.
Lando shot you a wicked grin, winking quickly enough that no one else saw it, and stared right into your eyes as he answered.
"Delicious."
#lando norris x reader#lando norris#f1 smut#f1#lando norris fanfic#lando norris imagine#lando norris smut#formula 1 x reader#formula 1 smut#formula one smut#formula 1 imagine#formula 1 fanfic#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#f1 fanfic#lando norris x you#lando norris x y/n#lando norris blurb#ln4#formula 1#formula one#lando norris f1#mclaren f1#lando norris x oc#formula 1 x you#formula 1 fic#formula 1 x y/n#formula 1 x female reader
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Hair Care
T | 1,749 words
Prompt for @steddielovemonth: Love is what makes you brave
Steve learnt early on that if he makes his hair all soft, fluffy and big, then girls would play with his hair. He's always loved having people touching his hair.
But after the Demogorgon, after he gets his act together? Suddenly, no one wants to touch his hair. No one comments on it, or even looks at it like they're so much as thinking about it.
And it is driving Steve insane.
"I can't just ask for it!" He complains. "That's weird and- and what if they take it the wrong way? What if I sound too weird or desperate?"
"I'm the wrong person for the weird complaint," Eddie points out. "And I still don't get the problem. What about Robin?"
Robin is convinced that all his little lines, trying to encourage attention towards his hair as subtly as he can, are all pick-up lines.
To be fair to her, she has only ever seen him using said lines when he's flirting. But they're supposed to be little hints, a nudge and a wink. Friendly- playful even.
But, because of that, he has a nasty feeling that she would take any hint or request about his hair as romantic. And the last thing Steve wants to do is make Robin uncomfortable.
"Ok, yeah, I see the problem there," Eddie hums, considering. "What about the kids? El and Max. They adore you and love playing with each others hair."
El had asked to play with his hair once.
She'd heard, somehow, that his hair is 'famous' in Hawkins and had wanted to see why. She encouraged Max to join her, even though she mostly ended up petting him like a dog.
Max had seemed to enjoy it more than El, but not by much, and the snickers from the other kids had been enough for him to refuse to let them "go again".
He's the babysitter, he needs at least some dignity.
"But did you like it?" Eddie presses.
"Well, yeah," Steve mumbles, snuffing his slipper on the carpet. "It was nice or whatever. Not worth the jabs though."
"Why not?"
"I don't know. Didn't feel worth it."
"Hmm..." Eddie pauses again, frowning as he looks him over. "Well... what was it specifically about what they did that was so nice? Has anyone else done that for you?"
Tommy used to play with his hair constantly. He was a quick learner and, with how much Carol visibly and vocally enjoyed watching them, there wasn't any shame.
They both seemed to enjoy themselves more whenever they could convince Steve to sit on the floor, so Tommy could scratch at his head more effectively.
"Which..." Steve pauses, frowning. "In retrospect was probably some weird power play thing. Like, I was the king at school but a dog at home."
"Yikes."
"Yeah."
But they knew exactly what he liked and they were good at it.
Tommy knew that he loves the back of his ears scratched, likes the small strands at his neck tugged. He knew that Steve loved the feeling of fingers brushing his fringe back, especially when he'd get rough and push his head back a little with the motion.
They knew what he needed.
"Well... I could do that," Eddie suggests. "I mean... if you want. It's not like it would be a hardship."
"Really? You wouldn't be uncomfortable?"
"Not at all. As long as you're ok with it, it's all good."
"That- yeah. Yeah, I'm on with that."
That's how it starts.
Steve had sat on the floor, in front of the sofa where Eddie was sat. It reminded him of Tommy for a moment, but Eddie quickly brought him back to the moment with a hand on his shoulder.
"This alright for you?" He asked, squeezing gently when Steve nodded. "Alright. Just let me know if it's bad, too much or you want to stop."
"Okay."
He had thought that would be it, though. Moments when they hung out in private, a thing for them that no one else was allowed in on.
But Eddie starts playing with his hair. All the time.
If he can find an excuse, he abuses it. Even in Family Video, busy with people and customers lining up in front of Robin, right next to them. Eddie just... leans forward, reaches out and pushes his hair back.
He does it so casual, so out in the open, that- somehow- Robin is the only one who gives them a strange look.
On movie nights, he's started putting a pillow down on the floor between his feet. When Steve comes in with popcorn, Eddie gives it a pointed look and raises an eyebrow at him.
It's so much, so often. Steve loves it, has never been so happy for so long. It leaves him feeling high sometimes.
All good things, for him, come to an end though. And his comes in the form of Robin Buckley.
"I'm not saying I have a problem with any of it!" She clarifies, right off the bat. "If it's just a friendship thing, that's amazing. I love how happy you are, really, and I don't want that to go away, and I know-"
"Robs," Steve interrupts. "Slow down. I don't know what you're trying to say."
She stood, staring at him for a moment, seeming to vibrate with her need to speak, before finally blurting out-
"Are you and Eddie dating?"
"Wh- what? No, that's... no. Why do you, uhm, think that?"
"Steve," she whines. "I know about your hair lines, remember? One of them must have worked with how addicted he's got to yours."
"Oh, that... no, that's not what's happened. Those aren't lines, I just... I really like people playing with my hair."
"Oh."
"Yeah."
"Wait, that still sounds suspicious. He plays with your hair all the time because he knows how much you like it?"
"No one else was going to."
"Oh my god," she rolls her eyes, stepping closer so she lightly tug at his hair. "I would have been doing this all the time if I knew it was ok!"
"Oh, uh, sorry?"
"No apologies, just tell me when you started crushing on Munson."
"How-?"
"I know you, dingus. Apparently not as well as I had hoped I did, but I do. And you're gone on him. When. Did it start?"
The first time Steve realized that he was feeling more than 'friendship feelings' for Eddie was when he was eating at his new trailer.
Wayne had come home early and was surprised to see that Eddie had a guest over.
But Eddie was too busy jumping up, excited to introduce them, to notice.
"Wayne! This is Steve, I've told you about Steve, he's great," Eddie said. "Steve, this is my uncle, Wayne. He's amazing, don't worry, he doesn't bite."
Steve had quickly stood extending an arm, and introduced him properly. He made sure to add a quick 'sir' at the end.
Wayne had quickly dismissed the title, turning to Eddie with a fond look, and said, "what was it you called him? Pr-"
"Shut up," Eddie was fast to interrupt, hands waving around.
And Steve realized that he was feeling hope. He was filled with hope that Eddie had said what his uncle seemed to about to say.
He realized that he wanted Eddie to think of him as pretty. He wanted Eddie to find him so pretty that he told his uncle.
It was a warm feeling, fluttering through his stomach- a feeling that he is all too familiar with.
"I'm gagging," Robin says, monotone. "But that does help."
"Help? How?"
"Uh, because he's obviously into you too!"
"Robs, I don't know..."
"Come on, it'll be easy. He already likes you, so you don't have to try so hard. Just a little thing that lets him know you like him. One of your moves-"
"No, Robs... I'm sure that he likes me too, at least a little, that's not the problem."
"What is them?"
"I... I've never, like... been with a guy. What if I do it wrong?"
"Steve," Robin grabs both of his shoulders. "He likes you. All you have to be is yourself."
"I don't know if I c-"
"You can, and you will. We'll think of a plan that cannot fail, you'll put on your brave pants, and we'll kick this problems ass."
"My brave pants? It's brave face."
"No, I mean those pants that you're always saying make your ass look good. Those are your brave pants."
"... Ok, yeah, they are."
It doesn't take them long to settle in a plan. It's simple, easy. It shouldn't give Steve enough time to doubt himself.
Eddie arrives on time, knocking on the door at the exact time it turns four p.m.
"Hi!" Steve greets, wincing at how overenthusiastic he is. "Come in."
"You alright?"
"Yeah, fine, just... slow day. Too much energy. Come on, I made too much food earlier if you want some."
"You know I'll never turn down free food, Stevie."
Over dinner, Steve starts to finally relax. Eddie is, as always, easy to talk too.
When they step into the living room, Steve snatches the pillow off Eddie before he can put it on the floor and places it in Eddies lap instead.
"Oh, uh," Eddie stutters, eyebrows high, staring down at Steve who did not hesitate to rest his head on the pillow in his lap. "You- yeah?"
"Yeah," Steve agrees. "You alright with this?"
"Yes- yeah, this- of course."
"Great!"
Steve stretches to the coffee table, handing Eddie the remote.
He doesn't pay attention to whatever Eddie puts on though. He can't stop thinking about how he's laying, how Eddie's hand feels so much more gentle in his hair.
Eventually, he turns so he's on his back. He catches Eddie's hand before he can pull away, waiting until Eddie looks him in the eye before pulling his hand close enough to kiss his palm.
But, instead of surprise, Eddie sighs. His shoulders drop, smiling wide- relieved.
"You're so pretty," Steve says, pushing through the confusion he feels at Eddies reaction. "And I, uh... I really like you, Ed."
"Yeah?" Eddies eyes scrunch with how wide his smile is, shifting his hand out of Steves hold so he can brush the back of his knuckles along his cheek. "Little ol' me?"
"Yeah. I'm- I mean, you're funny and you care... you're just... it's too soon to say love, I know, but-"
"I love you too."
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🎃⭐️Texas Chainsaw Massacre x reader⭐️🎃
Art by: Minilev
Premise: You go hiking with a friend and this bitch has the audacity to leave you alone. You end up hitchhiking with some hippies, but their van gets a flat! Oh no! Good thing there's a farmhouse nearby. Maybe they can help
Note: I had this in the drafts for awhile. I decided to whip it out for halloween. Enjoy. Say one thing bad thats not constructive criticism and its a block. Tired of these fucking kids smh. Also, imagine everyone with a soulthern accent
-Dr. Smut
Minors DNI
Warning: Non-Con, side charicter death, mentions of gore, kidnapping, fem reader
"So uh..thanks for picking me up." You say with a nervous smile. You refrain from coughing as the strong smell of marijuana floods your nose. Right now, you're in a classic 70s Volkswagen van, hitchhiking through Texas. Your friend convinced you to go backpacking with her, but a quarterway through, she ditched you to continue the trip with her new boyfriend. Some junky she met at a gas station. You can't exactly turn tail and go home because she took the car, and stranded you in the middle of nowhere so, you had no choice, but to catch a ride with some hippies.
"No prob, sweet cheeks. Anything for a pretty lil' lady like yourself." The driver looks back at you for a moment and winks. You think he may like you. You cringe slightly. "Eddy has a crush on you! Ain't that right, Ed?" A girl next to you wearing a tie-dye crop top pokes Edds back a couple of times. "Well, who wouldn't?" He chuckles. You play with your fingers nervously. You've been driving along a dusty, desolate path through some empty part of Texas for a while now. You've always been perturbed by the idea of Texas. Americans and with their guns and hot temper and all. It seems you may have watched too many scary movies. You haven't seen a soul for miles, let alone a house, just tall grass and more tall grass.
The car suddenly jolts and you're all jostled around. The girl sitting next to you clings to you as the driver slams the brakes. You gasp for air, your heart pounding a mile a minute. "Huh!? W-what the!?" Edd shouts before hopping out to investigate. You cautiously slip out the back and join him. Edd lifts a spiked wire. It's still stuck in the now flat tire. "Some asshole must'a dropped it here while delivering somethin'," he says as he drops it back on the ground. It popped the back tires. You pull out your phone. No service. Of course.
"Do you have any spares?" You ask, hoping to get out of this creepy place. "Unfortunately these are the spares, sweet cheeks." He sighs. "Weren't you supposed to buy more, Ed?" Ann shouts from the window. "This is no time to argue! We have to get help!… Look, There's a farmhouse right there. Let's hope someone's home." He says, walking towards it.
You hesitantly follow them to the creepy house. "I'm gonna check the farm, you two knock on the door." Edd doesn't give anyone time to respond before he walks off. You walk up to the front door and Ann knocks. You feel like you're being watched. You shift from foot to foot nervously. A few minutes pass and no word. Not even a sound. "What the? Where's Edd? If no one was home, he should be back by now!" Ann looks around. You begin feeling incredibly anxious. "Let's go find that idiot," she says and walks off quickly, you follow behind her. You can't leave her to do it by herself so you agree. You walk over to the farm and see…the gate open.
"H..hello?" You call. "E-Edd?"…No response. The two of you cautiously walk into the house. It smells like wood and iron. You see a red smudge on the wall…weird. This is getting scary. "Ann…I think we sh-" You're cut off by a blood-curdling scream from Ann. You quickly go over to the open doorway she's looking at to see a horrific sight. Edd has been cut to pieces. You hold back bile in your throat and grab Ann. "Let's go!" You shout. She snaps out of her trance and follows you to the entryway, only for the two of you to halt in your tracks.
Standing there is a giant, his hulking frame filling the doorway. He's the scariest thing you've ever seen in your life. A mask covers half his face, and in his arms is a chainsaw. You make eye contact with the beast and scream. Ann yanks you deeper into the house, hoping to find an exit. The man follows you, hot on your trail. You see a back door and try to open it, but it's locked. Cassie then barely avoids losing her arm as she dodges the giant.
He hasn't tried to attack you yet. You grab a chair and smash it through a window. You pick up a plant and throw it at the man, who cornered Ann. He's completely unphased, but pauses and looks at you as if to warn you. You toss his warning to the wind and jump on his back. "Ann, go!" You scream. Ann runs towards the window but stops when another man shorter than the man you're currently on top of, smashes a hammer onto her head.
You hear a crack and she falls to the floor, limp. "Ann!" You cry. Your body was then slammed to the floor by the hulking, chainsaw-wielding psychopath. You whimper and crawl backwards. You hit a wall and he lifts his chainsaw towards you. You're thankful It's turned off. You close your eyes and wait for death. You feel the blade lightly touch your collarbone…and then gently move down between your breasts and to the junction between your spread legs…he rubs your thigh with the chainsaw lightly, as if thinking. You look up at him in confusion. He tosses the saw to the side and grabs your face in his large hand. He tilts your head from side to side, examining you.
"Think she's pretty, Tommy?" The man who just attacked Ann asked.
'Tommy', the giant holding your face grunts and nods. You're horrified. Does this monster think you're pretty? "Yeah, I agree, Tommy. Good thing you didn't turn her into dinner… though, I don't think you were gonna. You had your eye on her since their car landed in our road trap." He laughed. Trap!? This was all a setup!? Did he say dinner!? Your head is spinning.
Tommy looped his bur waist arm around your waist and hoisted you up, placing you on his shoulder like you weighed a small sack of potatoes. "H-hey! What are you doing? Put me down!" You shout, pounding your hands on his back, but it doesn't even look like he knows you're hitting him. You hear footsteps and look up to see an old woman looking over at you. “P-please help me” you whimper. She smiles down at you sweetly.
"Well, I do say, you sure found yourself a sweet little thing. Ain't that right, Thomas.” The hulking figure above you grunts in agreement. You cry as you realize she has no intention of helping you in the least. “She has a pretty voice too…Take care of my Tommy, girl!” She warns, glaring down at you. “Tommy. Get'er to pop out a few farmhands, will you?" All blood drains from your face. They…want you to…what? Tommy carries you down into a dark, creepy basement. You almost puke. You see dead bodies hanging from hooks and dismembered limbs and bones strewn about….is that Edd? You're carried down a hallway and into a room. The room is empty besides a dirty mattress in a corner. He throws you on the mattress and begins to undress you immediately.
You scream and try to stop him, but he's just too strong. "P-Please stop!" You cry. Tears flow down your cheeks and you hiccup. Tommy leans down and wipes away your tears, not calming you in the slightest. He strips you down to your bra and panties and takes a good look at you, drinking up your body. You can see the lust in his eyes. He grunts in excitement and removes his bloody apron. You curl your body up and hide yourself from him. He softly strokes your cheek and hugs you like you're a teddy bear. He's oddly gentle, but you feel he's losing patience. He taps your shoulder a few times, silently urging you to show yourself to him. when you don't, his taps become a little harder. He grunts in annoyance. He presses himself into you, trying to get closer. You feel his hard cock through his pants and try to shuffle back.
He grunts in frustration, yanking your arm and knees apart, forcing your body to reveal. You need to do something!…" Please,… don't hurt me, Tommy" He only stares into your eyes. You can see emotions swirl in his eyes before he lets go of you and stomps out of the room. Looks like he's giving you time to cooperate. You bring your hands to your face and sob. You look up. You have to get out of here! You hope to god you can do this. You get up and tip-toe towards the door as quietly as you can. You slowly open it and slide it open just enough for you to fit through, which proves to be quite difficult as it's very heavy. You don't know how the monster did it before.
You continue to quietly make your way down the dark hallway, missing the dark shadow to your side. You try not to look around too much at the carnage before making your way up the stairs. You find the window you previously broke now boarded up. You take a deep breath, preparing to make a run for the front door. You haven't heard anyone yet so you think you're still in the clear. You make it to the front door and just as you're about to try and open it, your body is slammed against the wall, your breath knocked out of you. You cough and groan. You feel dizzy. You look up to see Tommy staring down at you with a look of anger. Was he waiting for you to try to escape?
You grit your teeth before lifting your knee to knee him in the crotch, but he anticipates it and grabs your leg, lifting it. He makes space for himself between your legs and lets his large hands roam your bare midriff and up to your breasts where he proceeds to rip off your bra, revealing your chest to him. You whimper in pain and try to hide yourself, earning yourself a shove into the wall, banging your head slightly.
The corners of your eyes go dark for a few moments. Your head stops spinning when he leans down and slides his tongue up your cheek. His other hand reaches down and roughly grabs at your clothed cunt. He makes sounds of excitement once again. Saying you're terrified would be an understatement. You feel his fingers cup and wiggle around down there, not knowing what to do, but liking the feeling of doing it.
You again try to shove him off as best you can. He grunts in annoyance and moves the hand previously on your chest up to your throat. Your whimpers and please turn into choked gasps and gurgles as he squeezes. He gets even closer and you can feel something hard rub against your lower stomach. "Get her, Tommy, get her!" You hear from behind him. He grunts in response and tears off your underwear. He brings it to his nose and inhales. His eyes roll back a bit as if smelling the most heavenly scent imaginable.
You now realize he's probably never held a woman before and he's completely deprived of any sort of warm human touch. "Common, Tommy, gimme that! You get to have her, the least I should get is her undies!" His brother pleads. Tommy contemplates holding the small bit of cloth in front of him before tossing it back, which his brother catches and desperately presses to his face, moaning into the fabric like it's an oxygen mask.
Tommy grabs your hair and begins dragging you back down to the basement. You scream in pain and grab onto his hand for any relief as you're forced to the ground. "No! Please! Ahh Stop!" You cry out. He drags your naked body down the blood-crusted steps and makes his way back to the room you dread. He tosses you onto the mattress once again. By the time you manage to get up on your knees, you hear a clinking sound and turn to see him undoing his belt.
You crawl into the corner as he gets on his knees before you, his shadow casting over you. He unbuttons his shirt and lets it fall off. You now know that trying to inflict pain on him is futile. Muscles that scream he could crush you like a soda can. Not only is he as big as a fridge, but he also looks like an off-season pro wrestler. You can see a very prominent bulge struggling to free itself. The size of the tent itself is intimidating.
His eyes lock on yours as he slowly unzips his belt and frees his aching cock. You look away and feel his weight settle on the bed closer to you. You can feel his heavy breathing on the side of your face. He grabs your legs and yanks you beneath him, positioning himself at your entrance. You feel his bulbous tip rub up and down your folds. "Please…" Your eyes widen and you trail off as your eyes lower to what's prodding at your cunt. You want to look away, but morbid curiosity wins. It's almost unbelievable. His cock like himself, is too big. It's long, very thick and veiny. It looks like a beer can. You can just tell he's smiling under his mask.
He slowly pushes the tip in. You try to scoot back, but he grips your hips with his massive hands and pushes forward, but fails entry, seeming too big. He grunts in frustration. He tries again, this time managing to push the tip in. You scream. It hurts so bad. "No, y-you're too big!" you gasp, squirming in place. He holds your hips tighter and continues pushing forward, impaling you on his cock, all the way to the base.
Your mind blanks. You're unable to think cohesively. You're in so much pain. He lets out a groan of pleasure and doesn't wait for you to adjust to his size and just starts moving. It feels like your organs are moving around to accommodate his massive size. You look down to see a large bulge in your lower stomach. You whimper and groan as he thrusts. "W-why?" You croak. He looks up at you before lifting your knees, pressing them to your chest and leaning on you. Your eyes roll into the back of your head as you feel him push deeper into your womb, the tip of his cock threatening to push through your cervix. He nuzzles his face into the side of your neck, cooing softly to you affectionately while playing with your hair as if to say 'I love you'.
You cry beneath him, moans being forced from your lips as his hips plow into yours. Tommy grabs your breast, rolling the nipple between his fingers. You can hear him making happy sounds of some sort between grunts. He suddenly picks you up and gets off the bed with you in his arms, skewering you on his cock. He raises you up and down like a human fleshlight. You uncontrollably moan into his shoulder. His hands grope your ass as he starts to force you up and down faster. It feels good. You can't help but feel shame.
He grunts loudly and forces himself as deep as he can. You whine as you feel a rush of hot cum flow into you. Rope after rope, he fills you up. You feel so hot inside. Your stomach bloats from the sheer volume he fucked into you. He pants and looks at you, rubbing your cheek with his. He slowly lifts you off his cock, cum pouring from your abused cunt before setting you down on the mattress. He covers you with a thick warm blanket and brushes your hair from your face, stroking it with his thumb lovingly. If you knew this was gonna be a one-way trip, you would've brought some pillows.
#lemon#non con#x reader#yandere#yandere x reader#dead dove do not eat#male yandere#yandere noncon#texas chainsaw massacre#bubba sawyer#thomas hewitt#slashers#fem reader
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𝐒𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐔𝐓𝐄𝐒 𝐈𝐍 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐍, chris sturniolo !
summary: (fem oc!) avoids chris for a full week after having a sex dream about him. chris cant take it anymore and convinces matt and nick to help him get her alone at a party.
contains: soft / kinda rough dom!chris, slightt mommy & daddy kink if you squint, mentions of sex dream, riding & fingering.
requested: yes. irl bsf requested this one so this one’s for u bff 😘
"where the fuck are we going?"
"don’t you trust us, b?"
matt’s faux-exasperated tone had bianca throwing him a side-eye. nick, who stood to the left of bianca, chuckled, "i don't think she does matt."
it wasn't that bianca didn't trust them. she’s known the triplets literally her whole life, and matt and nick are like the older brothers she's never had. on a normal day, she would literally follow them blindly because that’s exactly what the trio were: the blind leading the blind. but with the current circumstances and the fact that she has been avoiding their brother like the literal plague, bianca can’t help but feel a little bit suspicious.
matt and nick had found bianca hiding—or at least trying to. it was always easy to find bianca at a party, considering after two drinks she was close to literally getting on top of a table and singing out of tune. anyway, she had been hiding with a group of her college friends that none of the triplets could even remember the names of, considering she didn’t hang out with them much. the fact that bianca was even at a party with them in the first place was weird; she always found it boring, but she needed an escape, and cheap beer with some questionable company had to do it.
bianca was sitting with one of her college friends, pouring another drink for herself, when matt and nick appeared out of literally nowhere, which confused bianca because why would matt and nick ever be at a party one of her college friends were throwing? grabbed her plastic cup from her hands, ignored her protests, and started dragging her out of the living room.
dragging bianca along, each one linked to her arms from both sides, passing in between the crowd of bodies gathered in the living room, occasionally having to push a drunk jock out of the way, and guiding her up the stairs into the upstairs hallway. they moved fast, and the people around her passed by like a sea of blurred faces.
bianca was suddenly thrusted forward when she reached one of the doors and were pushed inside by matt, who flashed her an apologetic smile, shrugging, "i’m sorry!" he said though he didn’t seem apologetic at all.
bianca glared at the door; she didn’t even need to turn around; she already knew who was sitting on the bed, as who else would convince their equally idiotic brothers to do this?
she sighed as she turned around, reasoning with herself that as much as she tried, she unfortunately couldn't avoid her best friend forever. sitting on the neatly made bed of some stranger's room was chris sturniolo, looking like a kicked puppy as he followed bianca’s eyes, watching as they averted around the room as she still stood at the door, unsure of what to do.
chris happily broke the silence, though. “so now i have to literally kidnap my best friend just to talk to her?”
leaning back into the cold wooden surface of the door, bianca tried to sound as unbothered as possible, knowing very well she was about to crack. "i wouldn't call that much of a kidnapping. matt and nick were giggling like literal idiots.”
when chris didn't answer, merely raising an eyebrow, unamused, she tried again. "so, uh... what is this, exactly? christopher. seven minutes in heaven? you know this isn't seventh grade anymore, right?"
“no, if it were seventh grade, you wouldn’t be ignoring me and acting weird.”
"i’m not acting weird.”
"then why can't you just look at me?" chris asked, frustration creeping into his voice.
"i-"
but as soon as chris opened his mouth, he couldn’t stop talking. “you’ve been avoiding me like the fucking plague all week, and i need to know why."
bianca wasn’t avoiding chris.
or at least that’s what bianca has been telling him ever since he first confronted her about it. he showed up at her house a week ago, climbing through her window as he refused to use the door like a normal person, planning to stay up all night with her because og fortnite had just dropped, though she made an excuse about being sick and ushered him out of her house, causing him to be very confused because she looked fine at school earlier.
he brushed it off and didn’t text her the next day. when bianca was sick, she liked to be left alone; she hated people being around her when she was sick. but when three days had passed and she still hadn’t contacted him once, he attempted to call her, asking her what was wrong and why she was avoiding him. she couldn’t bear to tell him the truth, so she said she was still sick, and then hastily hung up the phone, avoiding his texts afterwards.
in school, when he attempted to approach bianca at her locker in hopes of talking to his best friend, whom he hadn’t seen or spoken to in four days, she rushed towards her class, pretending she didn’t notice him; she was running out of excuses.
the truth was, bianca couldn’t look her best friend in the eye anymore, let alone be in his presence, after the dream she had of him.
she sighed and looked down at the floor. “it’s nothing, chris; i’m just confused, okay? you didn’t do anything wrong; i promise it’s just...” she trailed off awkwardly.
there was a shift in the air, and the tension dropped as chris’s face lightened. hearing that bianca wasn’t mad at him was a relief. he rose from his place on the bed and walked over to her, stopping right in front of her.
“hey b?” he gently lifted her chin up, looking deeply into her eyes. “i’m not mad at you, okay? i was just worried; we used to tell each other everything, and then you started acting like this, and it’s been driving me crazy because i didn’t know what to think," he admitted.
"i know; i’m sorry." bianca finally mustered up the courage to meet his gaze. her eyes softened slightly at his concern. "it’s just... well, you know how crazy dreams can be sometimes," she added sheepishly.
"bianca..." chris sighed softly before wrapping his arms around her waist, pulling her close against his chest. he rested his chin on top of her head, savouring the familiar scent of her hair. "i promise i won't judge you for whatever it was. just, please, talk to me about it." he pleaded softly, hoping she would finally break down and tell him what had been bothering her all week.
bianca sighed, her body leaning into his warmth. "okay, fine," she muttered reluctantly. taking a deep breath, she began to explain, "it’s just that... well, i had this weird dream about us... you know?" she stuttered, her cheeks turning crimson red.
chris raised an eyebrow. “oh yeah?” he asked. his sweet tone started to fade away as he smirked slightly.
bianca just nodded her head, missing the smirk in his tone as he asked, “what happened in the dream?" though he kind of had an idea already, and he’d be lying if he said the images weren’t going straight to his dick.
"in the dream, we were both, you know..." bianca managed to choke out, her voice barely above a whisper.
“oh, i think i know.” chris’s smirk grew wider at her discomfort, his eyes glittering with excitement. "and what happened next?" he prompted, eagerly waiting for her reaction.
bianca swallowed hard, her heart racing faster than normal. "uh, i was riding you.” she admitted weakly.
“that sounds hot."
bianca’s eyes widened as she pulled away from chris. “what?” she asked in shock. she couldn’t believe she was even admitting this to him.
“you heard me.” chris smirked.
bianca’s face reddened slightly, and chris smirked. “what do you say we make your little dream come true, hm?"
bianca bit her lower lip, her eyes darting around the room nervously. "chris, we can't!" she protested weakly.
"no?” chris raised his eyebrows. “if i pulled your panties aside, you’re telling me you wouldn’t be dripping?” he asked, noting how her thighs were pressed together.
"i... i..." stuttering, bianca couldn't find the words to argue anymore. her body was betraying her, and the warmth between her legs confirmed it all too well.
"come on, ma,” chris said as his hands trailed down towards her ass, squeezing them tightly. “made you feel good in your dream, hm? let me make you feel good in real life.”
unable to resist any longer, bianca nodded, and chris grinned triumphantly. he pulled her closer, pressing his lips to hers and kissing her hungrily, their tongues tangling together in a messy dance. chris suddenly motioned for her to jump, and she instantly complied, jumping and wrapping her legs around chris’s waist as he kissed her harder, walking towards the bed and pushing her onto it. he pulled apart from her lips, his lips covered in her lipstick, though he didn’t seem to care as he said, “tell me what i did to you in your dream, ma.”
"y-you were kissing my neck, and then you started to undress me slowly,” she gasped as chris’s lips attached to her neck, bitting, licking, and kissing her skin. his hands trailed down her body, making their way to her back as he unzipped her dress effortlessly while still kissing her. she gasped as the dress fell and his hands started to cup her breasts over her bra.
“like this, ma?” he asked.
"mmm..." bianca groaned, enjoying the sensation of his hands on her breasts. "yes, just like that," she managed to croak out between moans.
"good girl," chris praised, pulling away from her neck long enough to whisper into her ear, "now tell me what happened next." he nibbled lightly on her earlobe before sucking it softly, causing goosebumps to rise on her skin.
he continued to tease her nipples through her bra, making them harden further. "come on, mommy,” he teased, knowing that was a secret kink of hers that he heard her overshare one time. “don’t be shy; tell me what i did next."
she couldn’t help it. the use of the word mommy always made her feel some type of way, so she no longer held back. "you pulled my panties down, and you fingered me."
"that’s a good girl," chris praised as he finally took her lacy bra off and sucked on her nipple harshly before turning his attention to her wetness. he began to rub slow circles around her clit through her underwear, creating waves of pleasure that radiated throughout her body. "tell me how bad you want me to touch you there, ma," he demanded huskily.
bianca moaned loudly, her body arching into his touch. "please, chris. i need you to touch me." she begged, her voice hoarse with desire.
chris grinned triumphantly, his eyes glittering with satisfaction. he hooked his fingers underneath her underwear and pulled them down slowly, revealing her smooth, shaven pussy to him. "just like that," he praised before lowering his head and sucking her clit between his lips, his tongue flicking it teasingly.
bianca moaned so loudly that chris had to place his hand over her mouth. "you need to be quiet, b. don’t want people to hear us, do you?” he asked as he inserted a finger and wasted no time in moving it quickly in and out of her, smirking as she threw her head back.
"after all, that would mean i’d have to stop, and you don’t want me to stop now, do you, baby?”
bianca nodded frantically, her breath coming in ragged gasps. "no, please don't stop." she begged, her body trembling with desire.
chris chuckled darkly, his finger moving faster inside of her, hitting her g-spot just right. "you’re such a naughty girl, bianca," he teased before suddenly stopping, leaving her hanging on edge. "but i’ll reward you for being so good." with that, he slowly inserted another finger alongside the first one, stretching her tight entrance as he began to thrust them in and out of her wet pussy.
bianca whimpered softly, her nails digging into chris’s back for support. "more, please, give me more," she begged, her voice shaking with need.
"mhm, i don’t know, ma,” chris teased. "is this better than your dream?” he asked.
"yes, yes, it's better," bianca panted, her voice barely above a whisper.
chris chuckled again, his fingers picking up the pace inside of her and hitting her g-spot harder and faster. "that’s a good girl," he praised, his voice husky with desire. "now, spread your legs wider for me."
bianca complied, spreading her legs apart as wide as they could go, exposing her sensitive folds to him. her body trembled in anticipation, begging for more.
chris didn't disappoint her. he added another finger, stretching her tight pussy even further. "do you like that?" he asked, his voice gruff with lust.
bianca nodded. “yes, chris, i love it,” she moaned, her eyes rolling back as she felt her legs start to shake. “chris, fuck, i’m-“
"cum for me, baby."
with one final push, bianca’s body convulsed violently, and she cried out his name as waves of pure ecstasy washed over her. her juices coated his hand and arm, leaving a sticky mess on the sheets.
chris smirked and lowered his head to kiss her sweetly on the lips. “you did so well, you know that?" he told her, his voice husky with satisfaction. as bianca caught her breath, he undressed himself quickly, revealing his hardened dick, which was dripping with pre-cum. "we’re not done yet, though, ma."
bianca moaned at the sight; she didn’t expect him to be that big. chris chuckled at her reaction and attached their lips together again. bianca moaned into the kiss sucking on his tongue as chris flipped them over so she was on top. she broke away from the kiss and looked at him in confusion.
“wha-“
he stopped her. "if i remember correctly, you said you rode me in your dream, hm?” he asked as she nodded her head.
chris grinned. "well, it’s also my dream for you to ride me. wanna see those tits bounce for me, ma.”
she nodded nervously, her hands shaking as she reached down to guide his cock into her tight entrance. slowly at first, bianca began to lower herself onto him, groaning softly as the head of his cock brushed against her sensitive spot.
“oh fuck," she gasped, her eyes wide with surprise and pleasure. "chris, you're huge."
“that’s it, ma,” he moaned back, his hands on her hips, guiding her up and down his length. "take it all."
bianca moaned and sank right down onto his lap, the pair both groaning as they looked down and realised their bodies were perfectly aligned. she slowly rode him up and down, her breasts swaying enticingly with each thrust.
his hands gripped her hips tightly, guiding her movements while his tongue traced along her neck and collarbone.
“that’s it baby," he panted, "ride me like you mean it."
bianca moved even faster, throwing her head back. “feels so good, daddy,” she moaned, and chris’s eyes darkened.
"that’s it, ma," he growled, his hands moving to cup her ass firmly, encouraging her to ride him harder.
bianca picked up the pace, her breasts slapping against his chest with each thrust. the rhythmic motion of their bodies created a symphony of sounds that filled the room—moans, gasps, and the wet slapping of flesh against flesh. their combined moans echoed off the walls, making them both lose themselves.
"i’m so close, chris." bianca gasped as he sucked on her nipple harshly.
"me too, baby," chris groaned, his own climax nearing. he increased the speed of his thrusts, matching her rhythm perfectly. their bodies slapped against each other in sync, creating a perfect rhythm of pleasure and desire.
bianca’s orgasm built up quickly, and she cried out his name as another powerful wave of ecstasy washed over her. her tight pussy contracted around his cock, milking him dry. when she finally came down from her high, she collapsed on top of him, panting heavily.
chris followed suit moments later, his own release filling her up completely. they lay there for a moment, their breathing gradually returning to normal.
“fuck that was.” bianca stuttered to out of it to even form a sentence.
chris chuckled and slowly pulled out of her. he headed towards the bathroom in the room, returned a moment later with a warm washcloth, and began gently wiping the mess they made off her thighs. bianca smiled softly, and once he was done, he helped her put her panties and bra back on.
he pecked her lips softly. "you okay?” he asked.
“never been better," she replied.
“good.” chris smiled. “but next time something happens, promise you’ll tell me instead of avoiding me?”
“if this is what happens afterwards, then I'll be telling you about every dream i have.”
｡°✩
not a chris girl but this could of single handedly converted me
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Steve and Nancy's relationship didn't work out because they had different wants and needs so when Steve starts dating Eddie he tries really hard not to have wants and needs of his own. Knowing that Eddie didn't reschedule Hellfire for Lucas doesn't help with this.
He goes to a few metal concerts even though he always gets migraines the next day from the volume, he lets Eddie talks about all kinds of nerd stuff even if it makes him feel stupid when he can't keep up.
It's not even like he's dragging Steve into things that are actively detrimental to him all that often. Just a couple activities things a week. But Steve also feels the need to hide some of his own interests, knowing that Eddie hates them.
Not that he doesn't love being around Eddie, but now that they're dating he's hardly not around, and it's hard to find time to keep up on the teams that Steve roots for. But it's... it's fine. He's happy with Eddie, so he can make the sacrifice to hide these parts of himself. It's fine.
Eddie doesn't realize this is going on because he's aware that he's pushing Steve out of his comfort zone, what he isn't aware of is how Steve far out of his comfort zone he really is, and how he doesn't want to bother Eddie with it, afraid they'll break up over it.
Then he slips up, just a little bit, when Eddie invites him to a concert on the same day he plans on watching a game. This isn't even the first time this has happened, but Eddie usually gives him more of a heads up for this kind of thing. He thought he was close enough to the date that he wouldn't have to worry about it getting disrupted, and it was a pretty big game, so his disappointment is higher than usual.
Eddie is talking about a metal band and is going on a small ramble explaining the context of where they sit in the metal scene.
"And they have a concert in Indy tomorrow," he grins, "and I really want to take you."
"Oh, I was gonna... Yeah, we can do that."
"You were gonna what?"
"It doesn't matter. It's stupid."
"Steve, it's not a big deal. It's not like I'm taking you to a Dio concert. These guys are actually pretty small and relatively local. I'm sure we could catch another one, it would just be kind of down the road."
"Eddie it's fine. We can go to your concert. Whatever you want."
Eddie gives him a look. "I don't want it to be 'my concert.' If you wouldn't enjoy it, I wouldn't want to just be dragging you with me. And I don't want it to be 'fine' I want it to be enjoyable!"
"I enjoy spending time with you."
"Ok, so what were you going to do tomorrow?"
"It doesn't matter."
"Obviously it does!"
They're fighting and this was exactly what Steve was worried about. If Steve could have just gotten over himself, cut the bullshit, they wouldn't be fighting right now.
"Eddie, it really doesn't. Can we just go to the concert and forget about this?"
"No. If you don't want to go, you don't have to."
"If I don't go, will you go without me?"
"Unless you don't want me to."
"I want to go with you, wherever."
"Ok, you know what, I just remembered I actually have to help Wayne with something on tomorrow."
"No you don't. Look, I wasn't gonna do anything. Can we please just go to this concert you want to go to?"
"Look, I have to go to school. I'm already over 2 hours late." With that, he's out the door.
↞⬡+¤+⬡↠
Steve's not sure what time the concert was even meant to be at, but if he could just get a hold of Eddie and convince him he wants to go, maybe they won't miss it. It's already fairly well into the afternoon and he hasn't heard from Eddie all day.
The first few times he calls, there's no answer, but when he finally gets an answer it's Wayne that picks up.
"You almost missed me," he says. "Make it quick, I gotta to get to work."
"Is Eddie there?"
"Nah, he should be in Indy by now. Did he not tell you? There's some concert down there."
"Yeah, I, uh... Thank you Mr. Munson."
So Eddie went by himself even though Steve told him he wanted to come, and he'd pretended that he didn't even want to go.
Steve watches his game that night, kind of miserable and guilty. He debated not watching it, almost as a point of honor, since he lied to Eddie and told him that he didn't really have anything planned today. They'd both lied about their plans last night and Steve is so ready for Eddie to come back and say that he had a much better time without Steve and it's time they go they're separate ways.
His team loses and he falls asleep on the couch soon after, the tv still playing in the background.
He wakes up in the morning to a knock at the door. Eddie stands on the other side.
"Hey, baby. Did I wake you up?"
"Um... yeah." He wants to bring up what happened yesterday, that Eddie went without him, but he's afraid it will just make things worse. He obviously wanted to go without him if he did so, and bringing it up might just start an argument about how Eddie doesn't need Steve's permission to do things (and he doesn't) reinforcing why he didn't want Steve to come in the first place. He wants to stay with Eddie forever and he's worried the relationship is starting to fall apart. "It's fine. I should be up by now anyway."
Eddie hums almost suspiciously. "Can I come in?"
"Of course." He moves out of the way.
"'Whatever I want,' huh?" he asks, as he walks through the doorway.
"What?"
"Nothing. We'll talk about it in a minute. A few things first. Come on." He drags Steve over to the couch. "So what did you do yesterday?"
"Tried getting a hold of you, mostly."
Eddie chuckles nervously. "Sorry. But did you do whatever it was you planned on doing before?" Steve tenses just a little bit. Is Eddie going to accuse him of choosing baseball over their relationship? He kind of almost did when he first opened his mouth after Eddie first suggest the concert. Is he going to call him out for that. "Relax baby, you don't even need to tell me what it was, as long as whatever it was you were doing wasn't a person."
"No, never!"
"I know, Stevie. I know you're history; I know you would never do that. So I'm not upset. So did you carry out your plans, whatever they were?"
"Yeah. It was disappointing."
"Well, I'm glad you did what you wanted anyway. And since you were busy and couldn't come to the concert, I went and brought you back a tape." He pulls a cassette tape out of his pocket. "You obviously weren't going to admit you didn't want to go, but I still wanted to share this with you, so here. This is yours."
Eddie's more attentive to when Steve seems hesitant to do something after that. Eventually Steve gets comfortable enough to bring up where his reservations stand regarding a lot of these things. Eddie switches up how he talks about his interests, trying to make it more coherent and gets Steve earplugs for concerts. He encourages Steve to talk about his own interests, even when Eddie doesn't fully get the appeal himself. He can go a little outside of his comfort zone too. For Steve, it's always worth it.
#They have a lot of talks about this as time goes on which eventually leads to Eddie apologizing to Lucas btw#about the hellfire campaign#steddie#stranger things#steve harrington#eddie munson#steddie ficlet#ficlet#fandsart
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only you
note: him. that is all.
pairing: kyle 'gaz' garrick x gn!reader
wc: 1.8k
summary: you and soap get to talking about your love life. gaz gets jealous.
warnings: little bit of miscommunication, jealousy, you and gaz make out, the mildest of spice
ao3
sleepless nights were not a rarity for you. it comes with the territory in this line of work, unfortunately, something you and your fellow sergeants have in common. it also wasn't out of place for the three of you to find each other in the rec room well into the early hours of the morning, which is exactly where you'd ended up tonight.
perhaps it was the result of the insomnia that had kept you up far later than your mind could handle, but you'd foolishly divulged that you hadn't been on an actual date in a depressingly long time – soap seemed to find that far more amusing than you would've liked, and quickly took it upon himself to demonstrate his unique ability to make you wish you'd kept your mouth shut.
"c'mon, you cannae be serious," soap wears a shit-eating grin as he leans forward in the armchair, leaning his elbows on his knees as you roll your eyes. gaz stays quiet beside you, which you're silently grateful for, but you do feel his eyes on the side of your head.
"i just don't have the time for it," you sigh, resting your elbow on the arm of the sofa and dropping your hand into your palm.
it's true, your job didn't allow room for much of a social life, what with being sent all over the world for months at a time– really, it was a miracle you did anything except work.
that wasn't the main reason, he was sitting on your other side, but you'd be damned before you revealed that to soap, of all people.
"well, if you can't get any, then there's nae hope for the rest of us." soap chuckles, reaching over and playfully nudging your arm.
you let out a groan, shoving his hand away and dragging your own down your face. "shut up, soap, that's not how it is…"
he laughs again at your reaction, still showing no signs of relenting. "maybe i'll have to take you out, then."
"on what? a pipe-bomb masterclass?" you scoff, the grin on your lips betraying your attempt at looking unimpressed. both of them laugh at that, soap raising his hands in a gesture that says 'so what?'.
"dinnae try'n tell me that wouldn't be an excitin' date." he reasons, tilting his head and quirking his brow at you. you narrow your eyes, humming in faux-consideration and playfully tapping a finger on your chin.
"for a pyromaniac, maybe…" gaz grumbles from beside you. the sofa moves under you as he shifts his weight around, and if you weren't so tired you would've noticed the way his voice trailed off in such an uncharacteristic manner.
"maybe," you laugh, shaking your head at the very idea of it, and the fact that soap definitely would if he could convince someone to go along with it. "that's if i don't wind up dead by the end of it."
"i wouldn't let anythin' happen to ya, bonnie, cross my heart." he grins, making an x over his chest with one finger.
"but you'd still make a homemade bomb right in front of me?" you lift an eyebrow at his teasing expression.
"my two favourite things; a good explosive and a good view,"
"oh god, shut the fuck up." you groan, reaching to swat the back of his head as you stand up. "that's enough for tonight, i need sleep."
"think i'll call it a night too." gaz mumbles half-heartedly from his spot beside you, quickly standing and making his way to the door without another word. you frown, confused by his sudden coldness, waving to soap and calling a quiet 'goodnight' before you step out into the hallway after him.
"night, bonnie, i'll pick you up at eight!" soap calls, loud enough for you to hear in the corridor, earning a soft chuckle and another shake of your head as you catch up to gaz.
he doesn’t even spare you a glance as you trail behind him, marching ahead with a tension in his shoulders that hadn’t been there before. his abrupt switch in attitude concerned you; he was fine not even five minutes ago, what could’ve happened to change that?
"you okay, gaz?" you ask with a hesitance that feels strange directed at him, someone you’re usually so confident around. for a moment there's no response, but he does slow down slightly, taking a right into a corner of the building with the lights shut off. you follow still, growing more concerned with every second that passes.
you’re about to ask again, but a few paces into the shadows gaz turns sharply on his heel, catching you off guard with how suddenly he stops walking and causing you to bump into his chest.
"gaz…?" you utter, your quiet voice a ripple in the stillness of the empty corridor. he meets your eye as you look quizzically back at him, a conflicted expression taking over his features.
you open your mouth to say something more, but before you can get the words out he's laying a hand on your shoulder and gently pushing you against the wall. the hand on you shifts to rest in the crook of your neck and shoulder, while he leans the other on the wall with his hand next to your head.
your breath catches in your throat, and your previous exhaustion is completely forgotten. the way he's looking at you, staring straight through you with that deep brown gaze and right into your soul, it's like a spell has fallen over you.
kyle leans even closer, caging you in with his broad shoulders and blocking out the world around him, so he's the only thing you can focus on– as if you could possibly think about anything else when he's touching you so tenderly.
"don't go out with him…" he utters, his eyes flickering back and forth as they search yours. the pause between you hangs heavy in the air. when your questioning expression doesn't change, he takes his bottom lip between his teeth and drops his gaze, letting his eyes fall shut as he continues. "don't fuckin' go out with him, please…"
"wh…" you stutter, trailing off as you wonder inwardly what the hell he's talking about; and then it hits you.
there's another pause, and you swallow thickly at the realisation that he was talking about your earlier conversation with soap; that he was reacting like this because he thought you would actually take johnny seriously. "kyle… he was joking."
"i'm not." he mutters in response, shifting closer again by resting his forearm against the wall instead of his hand. he's looking at you again, with heavy eyes that keep you entranced by him. you can't help the uneven breath that escapes you under his intense gaze and the way his thumb begins to stroke your jaw. "let me take you out, i'll give you anything you want if you'll have me, love."
it's hard to concentrate on anything other than the sparks his touch creates as he caresses your skin. you're sure he can feel the way your pulse is racing under his fingertips. there's no one but him in this moment, the minimal distance between you still somehow feeling too great as you subconsciously lean your face closer to his.
the silence and your heartbeat are so loud in your ears, you almost don’t hear his next words.
"can i kiss you?" he asks, little more than a whisper, tilting his head so his lips ghost over yours. you breath another shuddering sigh, letting your eyes flutter closed as you nod almost imperceptibly.
"please."
time seems to slow as the word hangs in the air, the warmth radiating from him seeps into your skin as he closes the final distance and presses his lips against yours.
the hand on your neck travels up to your face, cradling your cheek with a touch so soft, almost disbelieving, like he expected you to disappear at any moment.
"i'm yours, love," he mumbles against you, never straying too far from your lips as he caresses your cheek, "i'm all yours…"
you loop your arms around his neck, knocking his hat loose in the process, but neither of you pay it any mind as it lands on the floor at your feet – too lost in yourselves to care. in the brief moment you part for air, a breathy whisper of his name escapes you, and as if a switch has flipped, his mouth is back against yours with a fervour that you struggle to keep up with.
he's running his hand up and down the length of your waist, your hip, hiking your leg up and around his side, dragging his touch over your thigh, like he can't get enough of you. it's intoxicating, the way you pant into each other, flush against one another yet still itching to get closer.
your lungs burn as he pulls away again, just enough to whisper, his voice low and needy, "god– the things you do to me, sweetheart,"
his touch is reverent as he takes you in; your touch, your skin, your taste, the sounds he pulls from you as he kneads the flesh of your waist under your shirt. it sends your head spinning, the blood rushing in your ears stopping you from thinking about anything other than the feel of his lips on yours.
you trail one of your hands down his body, over his chest and down to the hem of his shirt, where you slip your fingers under to rest against his toned stomach. his skin is hot under your hand, drawing another groan of your name from him, and he slowly moves his hands up your own abdomen, leaving a trail of goosebumps in the wake of his fingers–
"awh, c'mon!"
the sound of soap's voice startles you into knocking your head against the wall behind you, both yours and kyle's hands darting back from their less than appropriate positions.
you look over to the scott, a sheepish grin on your face at his disapproving face. kyle buries his face into your shoulder, a groan of both embarrassment and annoyance escaping his chest. you resist the urge to laugh, instead running your hands up and down his back in an attempt to comfort him.
"fucks sake, soap…" kyle grumbles, wrapping his arms back around your waist. he doesn't look up at your friend, opting to keep his undoubtedly embarrassed expression hidden by your neck.
"think i'll have to cancel that date after all." you cant keep the amusement off your face when you speak, earning a dramatic eye roll from soap.
"too right, ye animals…" he mutters, shaking his head in exasperation as he disappears around the corner again. neither of you move as you listen to his footsteps retreating down the corridor, staying frozen in place until it's quiet once more.
only once you're sure johnny's gone does the laugh you've been stifling bubble up from your chest, escaping into the otherwise quiet night as kyle finally lifts his head to meet your gaze.
he eyes the bashful smile pulling at your lips and lets out a laugh of his own, pressing his forehead back to yours and letting his eyes fall closed again.
killing soap could wait until tomorrow; right now, it was just you and him, and that's how you want to keep it.
#gaz x reader#kyle garrick x reader#kyle gaz garrick x reader#mw2 x reader#cod x reader#141 x reader#call of duty x reader#mw2#cod mw2#call of duty#kyle gaz garrick#mw2 gaz#roosterr writes
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