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jksprincess10 · 1 year ago

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You just leave it up to me, we could have a good time || Eddie Munson x f!reader

A/N: Thank you to the discord server friends who helped me out with this !!!

Summary: You reunite with Eddie at the hideout, and he confesses that he's still a virgin. You're more than willing to help.

CW: No y/n, no physical descriptions of reader, sub!eddie, virgin!eddie, mentions of drinking, implied small age gap (reader is around 2 years older) awkward idiots, bad DND jokes, oral sex (f receiving), protected p in v, premature ejaculation.

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

"That's it Eddie, you're being such a good boy." You slur, drunk on pleasure as you hold up his hair in a ponytail to keep it from getting wet. Eddie slurps energetically on your pussy, encouraged by your kind praises.

It had all started when you reunited with Eddie at The Hideout. After you had graduated - and he had been held back again, you found yourself busy with college life and you rarely saw him, albeit living in a small town.

But a night in a shitty small-town bar led to so much more.

You had forgotten how beautiful he was. And on the stage, guitar in hands, he simply looked in control. You wanted to make him loose it.

"That was really good." You said as you offered him a drink after he went off stage.

He looked at you, and it took a few seconds until he recognized you, his gaze lighting up as he found your name.

"Oh shit! You were at my school, right? One year ahead of me?" He took the drink in his hand, and you couldn't help but notice the rings on his hand. Your eyes slipped from his fingers, then to his big, brown eyes before he caught you staring.

"Yup."

You got to talking and a few drinks later, your tongues had gone loose.

"Did you finally graduate?" You asked, eyebrow raised.

"I did. I'm just... figuring things out right now. Still a virgin loser, though." He chuckled and lifted his drink for a toast.

"You'd think being a guitarist would help." You laughed and hit your glass against his for a mock-toast. "I can help, though."

"... what?"

"I can fix this." Your fingers grazed his, and his gaze darkened as he looked at you.

"Fuck it, let's go."

"This is my humble apartment." You said as you welcomed him in.

Eddie looked around with a smile on his face.

"Nice. D'you mind if I... freshen up?"

" 'Course not. I like my men clean."

You pointed him to the bathroom, and you waited in your bedroom, undressing to your underwear and your bra. You felt giddy and nervous as you waited for him. When Eddie came out, he was only clad in his boxers, black with a dungeon and dragons log printed a few times.

"Hi." He said awkwardly.

You rose and walked towards him, placing your hands against his chest.

"Hi." You smiled at him, big and sincere. "Can I kiss you?"

Eddie nodded enthusiastically, and you wrapped your hands around his neck to angle his face towards your mouth. He tasted like cheap beer and Chapstick. His lips were surprisingly soft and when he held your waist, you could feel his confidence building. You licked and tugged at his bottom lip until he let you in, you glided your tongue into his mouth. His moans vibrating in your mouth went straight to your core. You pushed him to your unmade, messy bed, and he supported his upper body with his forearms as he looked at you, astounded.

"It's my fucking lucky day, damn." He said, voice rough as he wrapped a hand around your neck, bringing you down to him. You felt his cold rings on your warm skin. Eddie looked you up and down, taking you in, like you were some kind of beautiful dream or perhaps, the type of hallucination he would have on drugs.

"You know, I always thought you were cute." You confessed as you kissed the corner of his lips.

"You don't have to flatter my ego."

"It's true." You pulled back his hair to look at his face, then your fingers trailed down his chest, lean, with sparse hair and faded tattoos that looked like they were made with a single needle and pen ink.

"Now Eddie, do you know how to please a lady?" You asked in a sultry voice, the pad of your fingers tracing the vague shape of a tattoo that had blown out.

"In... theory." He responded, unsure.

"Do you want me to show you?"

The boy nodded his head a few times, and kissed your forehead as you swapped your positions, pulling him on top of you.

"Just take your time." You took his hands in yours and guided them to the back of your bra. He unclasped it with surprising ease and pulled it down your arms, after tossing it on the floor. "Hey! This shit's expensive, Munson." You joked, falsely offended.

"I'll buy you a new one." He seemed hypnotized by the sight of your breasts. You leaded his hands on your skin, letting him touch, pinch and explore. "Beautiful." He muttered to himself.

"You're cute." You let out without really thinking. You shouldn't get too attached. He smiled shyly, his cheeks red.

"Can you show me how to eat you out? Please?"

"Asking so nicely, like a good boy."

Your words stirred something unknown inside of him and went right to his cock. You could see the online of it through his thin boxers, and you unconsciously licked your lips.

You slid down your panties and opened up your legs for him.

"Go ahead. Spread my lips, lick around until you find my clit."

Eddie's fingers followed your lead, spreading you open. His tongue explored your slit, shyly at first, and when the tip of the wet muscle found your bundle of nerves, he became more confident. You encouraged him with soft praises and moans.

He looked up at you with big, innocent eyes, watching each and every one of your expressions.

"You can suck, graze your teeth... you can be messy. Can you hear how wet you're making me? Do you wanna feel it too?"

“Y-Yes, I hear it.” Eddie whispered against your soaked cunt, the warmth of his mouth heightening with your sensitivity.

Eddie's tongue circled your clit, fast, then slow, before sucking it into your mouth, sending shocks of pleasure through you.

Slowly, two of his digits breach your hole, stopping at his rings. He looks up at you for approval, and you nod with a fucked-out smirk.

"P-Push them in and out while you keep eating my pussy. Curl your fingers until… you feel something spongey." It was getting difficult to give him instructions as you were blinded by your own pleasure.

As he follows your directions, you arch your back and you gasp when he found the right spot, pulling on his hair tightly.

"R-Right there, oh god Eddie. "

He doubles in fervor and enthusiasm until your legs are shaking and you're gushing on his fingers. You let his hair go, and he sits back on his knees as if to look at a beautiful painting; pussy glistening with your come and his spit.

"You did so fucking good, Eddie." You look up at him as he overs over your body, biting your lip. When you looked down at his crotch, you can see the wetness in his boxers, until you meet his glazed eyes.

"Take this off. I wanna please you."

He lowers his boxers until they rest under his balls. Eddie's cock is red and leaking, his balls, tight. When you wrap your hand around him, he almost looks startled.

"Hey... I'm sorry baby."

"N-No it's just. I might fucking come on the spot if you touch me. Shit."

"It's okay. Tell me what you need." You caress the light stubble on his cheek.

"I-I want to fuck you. If that's okay." Eddie stutters as he pulls his underwear all the way down.

"Of course." Your hand finds a condom in your side table drawer, and you hand it to him. Eddie tears it open with his teeth and unwraps it on his erect cock.

"I'm not... really sure how to do this or-"

You lay a hand on his torso and push him against the bed. "Let me take over." You sit on his lap, and he looks up at you in pure wonder. You wrap your hand around the base of his cock, and you descend on him slowly. He takes in a sharp, shaky breath.

"So fucking tight. Fuck." He curses, his hands taking place on your waist. When your thighs are flush with his, you give him a few seconds to adjust to the new feeling. "Kiss me. Please." He says needily. You could never refuse anything to this man. You bend down and latch your lips onto his, taking the opportunity to move your hips slowly. He groans into your mouth.

You use your hands to support your upper body, laying your palms against his chest as you jump up and down on his cock, faster. Eddie is a babbling mess under you, thrusting his hips against yours. When you feel him unintentionally hitting that deep spot inside of you, you cry out his name.

"I'm s-sorry... I- I can't last."

"S'okay baby boy. You can come. It's normal on the first time." You say between heavy breaths. Eddie's hips keeps thrusting in a disorganized rhythm, until he stops, deep inside of you. He moans as he comes, so hard until he sees stars.

"Well, that was a fucking NAT 1 on performance." He says as you pull off him. His forearm lays against his forehead as he catches his breath. You snort as you get off him.

"You made me come, so that's better than 90% of dudes. You need anything?"

"Water. Please."

You nod and go to the bathroom, before coming back with two glasses of fresh water that you leave on your bedside table.

Eddie has already discarded the condom and is back in his boxers. "Huh I should... go."

"You can stay. If... if you want."

You watch him drink the water, the way his throat bobs when he swallows.

"Sure. And... I can bring you on a date tomorrow? If you want." He repeats.

You lay on the bed and smile at him. "Yes. Of course Eddie. Let's go on a date."

#stranger things #stranger things fic #eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x f reader #eddie munson x yn #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fic #eddie munson oneshot #joseph quinn #joseph quinn smut #joseph quinn fic #eddie munson x reader

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ilovefictionmen · 15 days ago

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Giving the nerd an erection (1st part)

○o。..。..o○○o。gojosatoru x reader 🔞 .. o○○o。..。o○○

ctto of the pic

🔞○o。..。o○○o..。o○○o。..。🔞o○○o。..。o○○o。..🔞

Gojo Satoru was not the kind of boy who get flustered.

His days were predictable: school, study, manga, rinse, repeat. He liked it that way. People were chaotic. Girls were confusing. And real-life romance? Meh. His heart only sped up for two things: ranking S-tier waifus and finishing his physics homework a week early.

He liked things in control.

–———————————

Gojo had just finished his physics homework, stretching his arms lazily above his head. The clock read 4 PM. His classes ended at 3, and he never waited until the evening to finish assignments. If anything, he liked knocking them out the moment he got home—or sometimes even during a quiet vacant period at school. Now that the academic part of his day was over, boredom crept in.

The house was silent. His parents weren’t home yet. With nothing better to do, he rolled over to his desk, woke up his computer, and clicked open Discord. His usual server popped up—a group chat full of anime-obsessed degenerates, just like him. They were already deep in conversation about the latest manga release of their favourite series.

Gojo smiled as he joined in, typing fast and keeping up with the chaos. The familiar back-and-forth was comforting. But just as the mood was hitting its peak, one of his friends dropped a message that broke the flow:

“Yo, check this out 👀”

[https://onlyfans.com/softlynsinful]

Gojo blinked at the screen.

OnlyFans?

Now that was unexpected.

Gojo squinted at the Discord message as it pinged again, followed by an explosion of laughing emojis and thirst comments from his friends.

“Bro she’s top tier.”

“This the baddie I was telling y’all about—premium content fr.”

“Try checking it out Gojo.”

He adjusted his glasses, unimpressed. His fingers hovered over the keyboard before typing back.

“Lmao why are y’all so down bad. That site’s gross.”

He sat back, mildly annoyed—well he does watch hentai but watching people exposing their bodies? Hell nah. The soft hum of his PC fan filled the room, mixing with the fading golden glow of late afternoon filtering through his curtains. Outside, birds chirped lazily and the occasional sound of a distant car passed. Everything felt normal. Chill. Boring, even.

And yet… he stared at the message again.

The link just sat there. Glowing blue. Mocking him.

He exhaled sharply, spinning in his chair and muttering under his breath, “Degenerates.”

Still… his curiosity stirred. Not about the link. Of course not. Just… purely academic. Maybe he wanted to see how cringe people could get. That was all.

With that extremely flimsy excuse in mind, he clicked.

His screen dimmed slightly as the page loaded. A soft white background faded into view, and there it was:

onlyfans.com/softlysinful

At first, all he saw was a locked profile—blurred teaser thumbnails and rows of locked posts. He was ready to exit out and feel smug about being above it all…

Until he saw the profile picture.

His cursor froze.

A close-up cosplay shot—cropped tightly. The unmistakable outfit of his favorite waifu: the signature red ribbon choker, black lace gloves, and that dangerously familiar low-cut corset.

Except the photo was zoomed in… and only the chest was visible.

Tasteful. Subtle. Just enough to recognize the character—but framed in a way that made his brain buffer.

His heart skipped.

“…No way.”

He leaned forward. Squinted. There was something oddly perfect about it. The stitching. The detail. Even the ribbon looked like it was hand-tied, not a cheap factory knockoff and the way the boobs were pushed-up making it sit so perfectly.

His screen cast a pale glow across his face as he leaned even closer, now genuinely intrigued. The username hit differently now too—"softlynsinful ". Cute… but with a bite..haha..

He clicked on the “About” section.

"For the boys who like their waifus soft-spoken and a little wicked."

He blinked. His throat went dry.

That line felt… weirdly targeted.

He pulled away from the screen and rubbed the back of his neck, glancing around his room like someone might be watching. The silence felt thicker now. The birds had stopped chirping, and all he could hear was the slight creak of his gaming chair as he leaned back, dazed.

“Okay, that’s weird…” he muttered. “No way it’s just coincidence.”

He swallowed, then slowly leaned forward again, eyes scanning every line of the photo, every tease of shadow and curve. The blurred thumbnails below only made it worse—more cosplay sets, hints of lace and silky stockings, but nothing clear without subscribing.

His finger hovered over the

Purchase for $9.99 button.

He sat there.

Silent.

Frozen.

Then closed the tab.

Hard.

He leaned back in his chair, dragged his fingers through his silver-white hair, and exhaled slowly.

“Nope,” he muttered, eyes squeezed shut. “I’m not doing this.”

Even if she cosplayed his favorite waifu to near perfection, even if her voice was as hypnotic as it was sinful—he couldn’t bear watching people get naked on screen. Real people.

Too much. Too intimate. Too human.

He wanted to stay where it was safe—where no one reached through the screen and looked back at him.

He shut his laptop, grabbed his manga, and buried himself back in his world of panels and printed ink.

—–——————————

Gojo’s life went on like clockwork.

He sat in his usual corner seat near the window, glasses slightly crooked, notes colour-coded to absurd precision. His pencil case had exact measurements for every pen. His binder had tabs. He had tabs for his tabs.

His classmates gossiped, flirted, slacked off. He just tuned them out.

But during science class, everything shifted with a single announcement.

“For your partner projects, I’ll be pairing you up randomly.”

He barely looked up, too busy finishing a sketch of a Gundam unit in the margins of his notebook.

“Gojo Satoru and (Y/N). You’re together.”

His pencil snapped.

He looked up.

Across the room, she glanced back at him.

(Y/N). The girl with the honey-glossed lips. The school's silent storm. Elegant, sharp, unapproachable—yet somehow always at the center of attention.

Everyone liked her. He didn’t care. At least, he thought he didn’t.

She approached his desk, graceful like always, her hair tucked perfectly behind her ear. “Looks like we’re partners,” she said with a soft, almost bored smile.

He blinked. “Oh. Cool.”

You raised a brow. “Cool?”

“Yeah, you know… it’s fine.”

She nodded. “We should probably meet up this week to plan the layout.”

He hesitated.

He really didn’t want her seeing his room—posters, figures, limited-edition body pillow (still in the box, but… it was there). The idea alone made him want to drop out.

“Uh… I mean—would it be okay if we met at your place?” he asked, almost too quickly. “Not because I don’t want you at mine, I just—mine’s a bit… cluttered. Like… aggressively cluttered.”

She gave him a strange look. Not quite surprised. Almost amused.

“Sure,” she replied. “My place works.”

He blinked again. “Really?”

“You thought I’d say no?”

“I mean, a little…”

She tilted her head. “Well, lucky for you—I’m curious what a nerd like you is like outside the classroom.”

———————————

Her house was quiet, set in one of the nicer neighborhoods. Gojo stood on the porch holding a folder, trying not to psych himself out. He’d worn his cleanest hoodie, sprayed a little cologne—not too much—and debated for five minutes on whether to bring snacks (he didn’t).

The door opened before he could knock twice.

“Hey,” she said, stepping aside.

Gojo stepped in and froze.

The scent hit first—vanilla, tea, and something like sweet incense. Her room was upstairs, and when she led him in, he felt… disoriented. The walls were soft beige, the curtains a plush maroon. Blue LED strips lined the ceiling, bathing the room in a gentle, atmospheric glow. The shelves were lined with books, makeup palettes, and tiny decorative fox statues. A folded tripod leaned in the corner beside a ring light, both tucked away neatly. Her desk was clear, laptop open. The bed was made with crisp black sheets and an oversized plushie resting near the pillows.

It was clean. Meticulously clean. Everything in its place.

And yet…

Something about it felt… familiar.

His eyes lingered on the way the light hit the wall. The way her blanket was folded. The faint shimmer of the curtains.

“Your room’s really… clean,” he said carefully, voice soft.

“You sound surprised.”

“No—no, it’s just… kinda impressive. It’s like… studio-level clean.”

She smiled at him, eyes glinting. “Studio, huh?”

He nodded slowly. “Yeah. Like something you’d see in a… uh, lifestyle vlog.”

He didn’t know why that word felt like a lie in his throat.

She sat down cross-legged on the floor and motioned for him to join her. “Come on. Let's start.”

They went through the data, working side by side on the graphs. She leaned over sometimes—just close enough for her perfume to sneak into his senses. Her voice was low, soft, and confident as she explained her half of the research.

But the whole time, he couldn’t shake the strange feeling in his chest. Her room. The lights. The scent. The mood. It all pulled at something tucked in the back of his brain.

Something unspoken.

Familiar, but not quite real.

He didn’t question it.

Not yet.

Gojo tried brushing it off. That sense of familiarity clinging to him like static the entire time he was in her room. The lighting. The furniture placement. The curtains. Even the colour of the LED glow on her ceiling—blue, soft, but almost… too familiar.

He didn’t say anything.

Didn’t ask.

He told himself it was just déjà vu. He’d probably seen something similar in an anime, right? Or maybe in a vlog setup tour or one of those bedroom aesthetic Tumblr pages. Yeah. That was it.

Right?

Still, the itch at the back of his mind wouldn’t leave.

Eventually, they finished going over the last bit of the project. She stretched, arms above her head, hoodie riding up slightly as she let out a soft sigh. Gojo quickly looked away, pretending to adjust the charts on his laptop even though they were already perfect.

“You did a good job,” she said, watching him. “You’re a lot less awkward once you start explaining stuff.”

“Thanks,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s easier to talk when it’s about data, not people.”

She smiled at that, and it made his stomach twist.

“You want to stay for dinner?” she asked. “My parents won’t be home until later. I was just going to order something.”

His throat went dry.

Stay?

In this room?

With that feeling still scratching at the back of his skull?

He shook his head, a bit too fast. “Uh—no, thank you. I should probably head home. My parents are probably wondering where I am. I said I’d be home by seven.”

It was a lie. His parents never asked. But he needed to get out of there. Not because of her. She was… well, she was intimidating, yes—but kind. Gentle. And he liked being around her.

It was the room.

The way it haunted the edges of his memory like a dream he was almost remembering.

“Alright,” she said simply, walking him to the door. “Another time, then.”

He muttered something like “Yeah,” and waved awkwardly before making a half-jog down her steps and out to the street. The evening breeze was cool, but his palms were clammy, and his heartbeat didn’t settle until he was halfway home.

At home, things were normal. Comfortably so.

“Hey, kiddo,” his dad called from the kitchen as Gojo stepped inside.

“Hey,” he replied, slipping his shoes off. “I ate already.”

He hadn’t.

He just didn’t want to sit at the dinner table with that buzzing in his brain. He grabbed an apple on the way to his room, mumbled a “Thanks,” and shut the door behind him.

Silence.

His room smelled faintly of paper and instant coffee. His posters were right where he left them. His action figures, perfectly arranged. His laptop hummed to life as he flipped it open. Familiar. Grounding.

He sat at his desk, opened a textbook, and stared at it blankly for fifteen minutes before giving up and tabbing over to Discord.

His usual group chat was buzzing—

The Waifu Wars server.

"YO SOFTLYSINFUL DROPPED AGAIN"

" bro this one… this one did things to me "

" the second pic? NASTY. i’m unwell "

" she’s not even real how is she killing me like this "

Gojo’s fingers hovered over the keyboard.

He hadn't even looked since that night when he saw her thumbnail and immediately closed the tab.

But now… curiosity flickered.

"link for science"

"🔥🔥🔥 onlyfans.com/sftlysinful//I’ve been such a good girl today... don’t I deserve to be ruined just a little?💋// "

There it was again.

That name.

sftlysinful

Taunting him.

He stared at the link. His cursor hovered.

“Just a peek,” he muttered under his breath. “One peek. Just to see what they’re freaking out about.”

Click.

The page loaded with a soft, dark theme. Purple and black. Elegant, not trashy. And there, dead center, was her profile photo.

No face. Just a cropped photo—cleavage framed in silky black cosplay fabric, red-painted lips visible in the corner. But Gojo’s eyes weren’t on the body.

They were locked on the background.

The glint of the curtain behind her.

The faint edge of a blue LED glow curling around the ceiling.

His stomach dropped.

Wait.

No way.

He clicked the photo, enlarged it.

Same. Damn. Curtains.

His mind started sprinting.

No face. But the same curtains. The same glow. Even that tiny fox figurine tucked in the corner of the desk.

It was Y/N’s room.

His blood ran cold.

Y/N… had an OnlyFans?

It didn’t make sense. She was popular. Perfect. Reserved. Elegant. Why would she need to do something like that?

He leaned back in his chair, mouth dry.

“Maybe… she rented the room?” he whispered.

He knew how dumb that sounded.

There was only one way to find out.

He scrolled.

One photo had a paywall. The caption read:

“For my favorite silent boy. You know who you are.”

Gojo hesitated.

Everything inside him screamed not to—

He made an account. It wasn’t like he was going to buy the pics every day. Just…curious. Like only now.

So he made an anonymous one. BlindfoldOtaku.

He clicked.

The charge processed. Instantly, three photos appeared.

His breath caught in his throat.

The first:

Her. In full cosplay. That same tight red-and-black bodysuit from a certain fighting anime. She was leaning against her desk, one leg crossed over the other, lips parted, eyes hidden under her bangs. Fully clothed—but suggestive. Her fingers brushing the zipper near her chest.

The second:

Same outfit—but now the suit peeled off halfway. Her undergarments matched the character’s palette. Her pose was lazy, lounging on the bed, hand on her thigh, lips slightly smudged from the gloss.

Gojo’s face turned crimson.

And the third—

He stared.

Same makeup. Same wig.

But this time, her body was bare beneath the cosplay details. Every inch of her exposed, posed carefully, strategically, but with nothing left to the imagination. The costume accessories still clung to her arms and neck—those iconic gauntlets, those perfect twin buns—boobs.

She wasn’t looking at the camera.

She was looking through it.

Like she knew exactly who was watching.

Gojo didn’t move.

Couldn’t.

His hands trembled on the mouse. His brain short-circuited. That feeling of familiarity bloomed inside him again—but now, it was in full bloom.

It was her.

His partner. The girl who sat beside him in class, who had just offered him dinner like it was nothing.

He leaned back, exhaled like he’d been holding his breath for an hour.

He felt dizzy.

Not disgusted.

Not disappointed.

Just… completely, absolutely stunned.

“…Holy shit.”

He didn’t even process it.

He turned off his pc immediately, like it had burned him. Like the screen was cursed. His breath caught in his throat, chest tight.

"What the hell did I just look at?"

He sat frozen for a full ten seconds.

Then ten more.

Blank. Flushed. Absolutely wrecked.

He pushed his gaming chair back—hard—wheeling it across the room with a sharp screech. He stared at his desk like it was tainted. Like it had become something unholy.

Because it had.

Because she was on it.

Not some random cosplayer. Not some faceless girl behind a blurred lens.

Her.

Y/N.

He stood up too fast, legs shaking. Every nerve in his body was electric, skin too hot, brain malfunctioning. He ran a hand down his face, and it came away clammy. He looked at it like it had betrayed him.

He needed to cool down. Literally.

He grabbed a towel and bolted for the bathroom, not saying a word as he passed his parents’ room. Not thinking. Not breathing right. The door shut behind him, and he stood under the sterile bathroom light, chest rising and falling like he’d just finished sprinting a mile.

He turned on the shower.

Freezing.

Water hissed from the faucet, crashing into the tub with a violent rhythm. He stripped down fast, trying not to think—but everything he saw came back in vivid detail.

That final photo.

The third one.

The one that felt like it had rewired his nervous system.

She had been fully made up. Cosplayed. Styled. Perfect. Every detail sharp and intentional—like she was acting out someone else’s fantasy.

But the pose? That was hers.

The way she looked through the camera like she knew exactly who was on the other side.

Like she was staring into him.

Gojo stepped into the shower, and the shock of the cold water hit like a slap.

“Shit—” he gasped, grabbing the tile wall for balance.

Goosebumps bloomed across his arms. His hair stuck to his face as the freezing water crashed down his neck, across his back, down his spine.

He let it.

He wanted it.

Anything to erase what was now seared into the folds of his memory.

But it didn’t work.

Even under ice-cold pressure, the image didn’t fade. It came back sharper. Her thighs, the tilt of her hips, the subtle arch of her back as the accessories of her cosplay clung to her wrists like restraints, her boobs flashed and the hint of her pussy showing.

His jaw clenched.

“No, no, no—come on—” he muttered, eyes squeezed shut, head resting against the cold tile.

But his body was already betraying him.

That slow, warm ache low in his gut. The rush of heat pooling even against the icy water. His hands stayed braced against the wall, muscles tense.

He opened his eyes and stared at the drain below him.

This wasn’t happening.

Not to him.

Not to the guy who literally turned red if a girl even complimented his penmanship.

But his body had made the call for him.

He was hard.

Under freezing water.

From a single image.

Of her.

He let out a shaky exhale, water streaming down his chest, throat dry, mind spinning.

How could something feel so wrong and so unreal at the same time?

Was it the taboo? The secret? The fact that she was untouchable in real life—graceful, flawless, unreachable—and yet bared herself so openly behind a screen?

No… it wasn’t just that.

It was her.

The way she teased. The way she knew.

The way she looked at the lens like she’d planned the exact effect it would have on him.

He shut his eyes again and whispered to no one:

“…What the hell are you doing to me?”

The cold water hit his back like a slap.

"Be normal. Be normal. Be normal."

He stood in the shower, eyes wide, body stiff—in more ways than one.

“Why—why the hell did I click it?” he muttered to himself, voice echoing against the tile.

He’d just wanted a peek.

A harmless glance at what his Discord friends were screaming about. One little view. Just curiosity.

But now?

Now his brain was fried and his—

"Oh god."

He looked down.

Still hard.

Still throbbing.

Rock hard cock wanting to be touch.

He cupped his hands over his face. “Please, for the love of all things holy, calm down,” he whispered like he was bargaining with a wild animal. He tried reasoning with it—thinking about physics equations, balancing chemical formulas, how bad Bakugo’s wig looked in season three.

Nope.

Nothing worked.

In fact, he made the mistake of brushing it downward while rinsing shampoo from his chest.

That was it.

That was the final boss mistake.

“Shit—shit—shiiit.”

He slapped his hand against the tile and let out a pained breath, shoulders hunched forward like he was trying to hide from God.

His mind said no, but his body was, his dick was staging a rebellion. The third photo of her—Y/N, in nothing but styled hair, fox ears, a choker, and soft lighting—was burned behind his eyelids. Every time he blinked, it flashed back in 4K.

His lip twitched. He looked at the drain.

The silence in the bathroom was almost religious.

“… I can’t,” he groaned.

But he could.

And he did.

Well, the bathroom was far from his parent's room and the running shower blocks the sound he could possibly make won't be heard. Because he was going to explode. Because it wasn’t just the pic—it was her.

Her voice. Her smirk. Her scent still clinging to his nose from earlier.

His back pressed against the shower wall as his hand slipped down, like he was committing an unforgivable sin in a sacred temple of shame and steam. He shut his eyes tight, heat curling low in his stomach, hips jerking before he could stop it.

He started stroking his hard cock slowly, up and down. He moaned quietly, imagining that it was your hand wrapped around his cock instead of his own. He was getting insane. He wasn't supposed to think about this shit, not you, not him having the thought of you getting pound by him with your boobs bouncing on top of him... but his mind betrayed him—his dick too

As he stroked faster and harder, he pictured you naked in front of him, begging for him to take you right then and there

”Yes baby… take my cock… you feel so good around me… I'm going to fill you up with my cum…” he whispered with heavy breaths.

He rubbed his sensitive shaft, he imagined you moaning and begging for more as he thrust deep inside your tight pulsing pussy. It was fast. Too fast. Embarrassingly fast.

He's eager.

"Fuckk..." he groaned speeding up his strokes as his mind blurred out with just you. You on top of him bouncing along with your big tits as if they were jumping on some trampoline.

He grunted, stroking faster and harder. His balls tightened as he neared another orgasm, the intensity of his arousal overwhelming him. He's gonna cum..

Because of her

"I'm gonna cum..." He cried out whisperingly as he finally reached his climax, spurting thick ropes of cum all over his abdomen and fingers.

When it was over, he just stood there… stunned. Chest heaving. Eyes unfocused.

Water still pouring down over him.

Like he needed to be baptized.

He stared at the ceiling.

“…I’m going to hell.”

———————————

The next morning felt like a moral hangover.

Gojo Satoru walked into school with his head high, tie slightly crooked, and soul completely fractured.

He had seen things.

Unholy, perfect, dangerously addicting things.

And those things had come from none other than the girl currently taking her seat two rows ahead of him in homeroom.

Y/N.

Not just any classmate.

Not just the silent, unreachable school goddess.

But sftlysinful.

The reason he had to take two showers last night.

His jaw clenched as he kept his gaze strictly forward. He would not look at her. Nope. Not at the glossed lips that looked too familiar. Not at the sway in her walk that matched the teasing clips online.

Definitely not at her thighs.

He was strong. He was composed. He was—

“Hey,” she said, sliding into the seat beside him in science class.

System rebooting. Please wait.

“Uh—hey,” he croaked, pretending to flip through his notes when in reality he couldn’t read a single word on the page.

She smelled good.

No, not good—sinful.

Soft vanilla and something he couldn’t place. Something dangerous. The kind of scent that stayed in your hoodie and haunted you at 2AM.

She crossed her legs under the table and—god have mercy—her thigh brushed up against his jeans.

Barely. Just a little touch. Probably not even on purpose.

But to Gojo?

It might as well have been a full-on lap dance.

His spine stiffened instantly, the tiniest shiver shooting down his back. He felt the betrayal in his own body before he even had a chance to think.

"No no no, not now. Not here!" He thought

He shifted in his seat slightly, praying it looked casual. But the tightening in his jeans was undeniable.

He was hard. In class.

In freaking science class.

Because of her thighs brushing his jeans slightly.

He gulped, palms starting to sweat.

Y/N leaned in a little, pointing at something in the lab packet. Her hair fell over her shoulder, grazing his arm. Her voice? Soft. Low. Just for him.

"You're not reading anything, Gojo."

His eyes flicked to hers.

Her eyes Innocently meet his.

He swore his heart stopped for a full two seconds.

“I—I am,” he lied, clearing his throat and trying to subtly adjust himself under the table.

No good.

It was still there. Loud. Proud. Hard as a steel beam behind his binder.

Her knee bumped his again. This time, it felt… intentional.

He tensed.

Y/N tilted her head. “You okay? You look a little… warm.”

Warm?

He was on fire.

Brain fried. Dignity gone.

Sanity evaporating with every second she breathed in his direction.

He tried focusing on the whiteboard. The teacher was explaining something about molecules. Or atoms. Or explosions.

Which was ironic, because Gojo was about to explode if she didn’t stop looking at him like that.

He pulled his hoodie down slightly, letting it drape over his lap. Just in case.

"J-Just tired," he mumbled.

“Hmm.” She leaned in again, her lips way too close to his ear.

“Maybe you need a release.”

He froze.

His pen dropped.

She smiled sweetly and picked it up for him, brushing her fingers along his.

“From stress,” she added innocently. “Obviously.”

He stared at her, speechless.

She turned back to her worksheet like she didn’t just nearly give him a full-body malfunction.

Gojo looked up at the ceiling.

“God, if you're watching... I swear I'll stop watching anime girls in bikinis if you just get me through this class without dying.”

He mentally ranted.

But he already knew.

He was doomed.

And the worst part?

He liked it.

The second the final bell rang, Gojo was gone.

He didn’t even bother saying goodbye to his friends—wait he doesn't have school friends. No casual anime banter. No manga store detours. He walked home like a man possessed, gripping his backpack like it was the only thing keeping him tethered to Earth.

The moment his front door closed—

BAM.

Shoes off. Bag dropped. Straight to his PC.

He slammed the power button, monitor flickering to life as he breathlessly dropped into his gaming chair. His hand twitched above the mouse.

Not for Discord. Not for homework.

For her.

Sftlysinful.

Y/N.

The girl who sat beside him in class not even an hour ago like nothing was wrong—like she wasn’t driving him to insanity.

He opened his bookmarks. Clicked her OF profile.

No new post.

His heart sank a little.

Why was he so desperate? He didn’t even understand it himself. But it was like some chemical reaction had gone off inside him ever since he figured it out. And now, every second without content felt like withdrawal.

His gaze drifted down the page.

Private photos. Locked. Dozens of them.

Different price tags. Some high. Some very high.

And then he saw one.

The title was vague. Just a smirking emoji and a flame.

But the price? Insane.

He hesitated.

Only for two seconds.

Then clicked “Purchase.”

His heart thundered in his chest. The kind of rhythm you get when you open a final boss door before you’re fully leveled.

And then they appeared.

Five photos.

Cosplay. Makeup. Her.

So much skin, but not just that. It was the details. The way she posed—confident but playful. Like she knew exactly who was watching. The way she tilted her head, the color on her lips, the props in the background…

And then—his throat dried.

The fifth photo.

Her legs were wide spread showing her exposed pinkish plump pussy, her fingers were inserted on her walls—she was touching herself

He made a sound. Some mix between a choke and a whimper. His brain was melting.

His hand gripped the desk, trying to ground himself.

Why did he do this? Why couldn’t he look away?

His thoughts were spiraling until—

Ping.

A message.

No.

No way.

He clicked it with trembling fingers.

sftlysinful: "Thanks for purchasing 💋 hope you liked it ;)"

BOOM.

His soul left his body.

He stared at the message. Then at the screen. Then back at the message. His cursor hovered above it like it could erase the entire situation.

His inner monologue was screaming.

“SHE MESSAGED ME. SHE—OH MY GOD SHE MESSAGED ME.”

He was frozen. Completely blank. Five minutes passed. Maybe ten.

Gojo sat there, motionless in his chair, staring at her message with the color drained from his face and blood rushing everywhere else.

He couldn’t even type a reply.

Did she know?

Did she recognize his username? Was it the blindfold I keep bringing to school and use whenever I feel like sleeping for a while?

Was this bait?

Was this… a trap?

He swiveled in his chair. Got up. Sat back down. Got up again. Started typing. Deleted it. Wrote something else. Deleted that too.

He wanted to scream.

She knows.

I’m gonna pass away.

He covered his face with both hands, trying not to combust. But every time he shut his eyes, he saw her—in full cosplay—posing like she could read his thoughts.

And now?

Now she was messaging him directly.

And all he could do was whisper to himself, like a haunted anime protagonist slowly losing grip on reality.

“…I’m so screwed.”

Gojo sat frozen, bathed in the cold white glow of his monitor. His gaming chair creaked beneath him as he slowly, slowly rolled back like he was trying to escape the screen.

His heart was hammering.

Like full-on JoJo battle music in his chest.

His mind was short-circuiting.

Okay. Okay, breathe. He could handle this.

She didn’t know it was him. Right? Right?

He had used his backup email. No profile picture. No username that connected to him. Just a vague, generic display name: "BlindfoldOtaku." Totally anonymous.

Totally… right?

He hoped.

With shaky fingers, he clicked the reply box.

"Your work is amazing! Really like the detail in the cosplay 👏 Big fan."

There. Simple. Vague. Respectful. Totally Not Gojo Satoru if she knows him truly.

He hit send, then immediately leaned back, staring at the ceiling as if divine judgment would beam down through the roof.

But then—

Ping.

sftlysinful : Aww, thank you! That means a lot, especially coming from someone who notices details. Most people just stare at... well, you know 🤫

God help him.

Gojo’s soul evaporated.

His ears were hot. His hands clammy. His thigh was bouncing so fast he could’ve started a small earthquake under his desk. The way she messaged… it was exactly like how she talked in real life. Kind. Warm. With that teasing edge that made him want to simultaneously hide in a locker and marry her.

He gulped, eyes skimming back to the set he’d paid for. Five photos. Her makeup was flawless. The wig was styled just like that character he definitely shouldn’t be associating with right now. Her eyes, half-lidded. Her smirk? Criminal. The light catching on her skin? Her pussy flashed? Fuck he needs it so bad right now Her big ass tits? Fuck he wanna bounce it.

Fatal.

He shut his eyes. Big mistake.

Because now all he could see was her. The real her. Smiling beside him in class. Laughing softly when he accidentally dropped his pen. Her smell when he entered her room–

Gojo sat up suddenly, smacking his cheeks with both hands. “No. NOPE. Not doing this again.”

He stood, pacing his room in slow, awkward circles, muttering equations under his breath.

Force equals mass times acceleration. Oxygen atomic number is 8. The mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell—

He paused mid-step.

Oh no.

It was happening again.

He looked down. Yep. There it was. His cock twitching like it had a mind of its own, pulsing for her name in morse code.

"Bro…” he groaned into his hands. “I need a lobotomy. Or an exorcism. Maybe both.”

He collapsed onto his bed dramatically, staring up at the ceiling fan like it might have answers. It didn't.

Thank god tomorrow was Saturday. No school. No Y/N. No sitting next to her with his entire soul screaming.

He curled up under his blanket, half-praying for mercy, feeling his throbbing cock wanting to be freed again. He stressfully ran his fingers through his hair.

"She's making me go insane" he groaned burying his face on his pillow.

There was a long pause when he slowly reached out for his waistband and inserted his hands touching his hard erection.

He winced, still face buried to his pillow. He slowly rubbed a finger against his swollen pink tip feeling his precum.

He's feeling stars right now as he begins to ejaculate again the image of her legs spread filled his mind.

Only her.

And the worst part?

He didn’t even know if he wanted to stop.

Using his precum to lube himself up before fully wrapping his fingers around the base of his throbbing length, strong and pulsing in his grip. He groaned burying his face even deeper on his pillow as he shifted his position sideways to properly stroke himself.

He started pumping his cock slowly just in the right pace knowing he'll probably cum right away based on his situation.

He could see you.

Through his vision.

Even if his eyes closed

It's you was there.

Whimpering while he fuck your brains out.

Marking you up entirely as his.

Fingering you till you squirt out your juices and cum all over his mouth and fingers.

Filling you up in your tight wet throbbing pussy.

And oh god how he wanted to be inside you right now. He wants you to bounce on top of him while staring at each other lovingly.

His stomach started twitching forming into knots forcing his abdomen to flex, he wanted to speed up he had to—he sped up stroking his cock. He could definitely see stars right now.

" fuck....." he groaned voice muffled against his pillow as sweats built up around his forehead despite the AC being on.

The mix of his precum and his palm sweats—well disgusting but it mixes well how much wetness he needed to lubricate his dick. The sound of his hand slapping against his skin filled the room. He let out a messy moan as he started to drool from thirst he feels right now.

"S-shit..." He hissed feeling his heartbeat in sync with the pace of his stroke. He's gonna cum.

The image of you flashed through his mind again, wide legs spread hole pulsating begging to be filled up by his cock.

With a few hard pumps he groaned thick strands of his cum splashed out of him, decorating his fingers and his sheets. He panted heavily shifting his head to look up at the ceiling.

It was fantastic.

He slowed down his stroking motions around his cock the throbbingness slowly subsided.

Ping.

His phone got a notification

He blinked. A new message.

His entire soul jumped like he’d been caught stealing from a shrine. Sitting up he immediately snatched his phone from his nightstand checking who messaged him at this hour.

Shit.

Y/n:

Hey Gojo! I know tomorrow is Saturday, but I was thinking we could finalize the experiment write-up tomorrow? Just to get it out of the way. If you’re free, you can swing by.

He stared at the message.

The silence in his room? Gone.

Replaced with loud, dramatic mental violins.

Not again, Satan.

Of course she’d message tonight. Of course she was being responsible and kind and thoughtful like the goddess she was.

And of course... Gojo’s brain betrayed him instantly with a flash of those photos.

He physically slapped the side of his head.

“GET IT TOGETHER, SATORU.”

He typed back quickly, forcing himself to breathe through his nose.

“Yeah sure! Sounds good. I’ll bring the rough draft.”

She replied instantly:

“Perfect! Bring snacks too. We need some snacks when we're stressed.”

Gojo let his phone drop onto his chest.

How.

How was she this effortlessly cute and casually ruining his life at the same time?

———————————

END OF Pt.1

tw: #masturbation

|had to make the continuation cuz I can't reach 10000 words.

#gojo satoru #gojo x reader #imagine #jjk #jjk gojo #jjk x reader #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #oneshot #gojo smut #18 + content #jjk satoru #satoru gojo x reader #jujutsu gojo #jujutsu satoru #anime #jjk smut #x reader #nerdjo

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radioactivatedspider · 1 month ago

Text

You Should've Told Me

Main Masterlist Mark Meachum Masterlist

My Wattpad📖

Radio's Café☆ - my official discord server!

Want to be added to my taglist? Just a few clicks away! -> Taglist Form

Pairings; Mark Meachum x daughter!reader

Genre; Drama, Hurt/Comfort, Protective Parent, Mild Thriller

Warnings; drugging, attempted assault (non-graphic), protective father, hospital care, comfort, implied consequences for the perpetrator

Summary: can you do a marc meachum x daughter reader? the reader is 16-17 years old, she sneaks out to a party one night when her father isn't home, gets drugged and sexually assaulted, and she gets scared and hides in the bathroom and calls her father.

request: can you do a marc meachum x daughter reader? the reader is 16-17 years old, she sneaks out to a party one night when her father isn't home, gets drugged and sexually assaulted, and she gets scared and hides in the bathroom and calls her father.

983 words

The night had barely started when things started going wrong.

Y/N had snuck out with her two best friends—figuring she’d be back before her dad even realized she was gone. He was out of town on business, and for once, she thought she could enjoy one night of being normal. Just a stupid party. Nothing crazy.

But the second drink she had tasted weird. Her head started swimming, and her legs stopped listening to her. She was blinking slow, panicked, as the music blurred and one guy kept trying to get her to come upstairs.

Her friends noticed something was off. They tried to pull her away, but the guy—some senior she didn’t even know—was persistent. Too persistent.

One of the girls snuck away with her phone and called the one person they all knew wouldn’t hesitate to come.

Mark Meachum.

The house was loud. Packed. Drunk teenagers everywhere. It took one hard look from Mark Meachum to part the crowd like the damn Red Sea.

“Where is she?” he snapped at one of the girls who recognized him.

“In the back… upstairs—bedroom—her friend’s trying to stop some guy—”

That was all he needed.

Mark shoved his way through, his mind already spiraling. You were supposed to be home. Asleep. Safe. He never got the call that said, “Hey Dad, I’m going out tonight.” Because you never made it.

And now he was tearing through a stranger’s house, hunting for his daughter.

He heard you before he saw you.

“No—get off—stop—!”

Then a crash.

Mark’s rage exploded.

He kicked open the bedroom door just as your friend was yanking some frat-boy-looking bastard off of you. The guy stumbled backward, grabbing at you again until Mark was there—faster than he could blink.

Mark slammed him against the wall with such force the drywall cracked.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“Wha—who are you—?!”

“I’m her father.” Mark’s voice dropped low. Dangerous. “And you’ve got five seconds to pray the cops get here before I shove you through the wall.”

The kid froze.

Mark didn’t care about the noise. The crowd. The gasps.

He let the bastard go with a shove that sent him sprawling. Then he turned, breathing hard, and finally saw you—

Sitting on the bed, legs drawn up, shaking. Tear-streaked face. Your mascara smeared. Your hands trembling.

“Dad…”

You whispered it like you weren’t sure if you were allowed.

Mark was at your side in a heartbeat, kneeling in front of you, gently checking you over. “Did he hurt you? Did he touch you?”

“No,” you breathed, tears falling again. “He tried. I—I drank something and everything started spinning and I couldn’t say no loud enough—”

“I got you,” he whispered, wrapping his arms around you like you were five years old again. “You’re safe now. You hear me?”

Her body sagged into him, dazed. Her friends rushed over, equally panicked.

“He gave her something—she’s not drunk, she’s like... fading in and out—”

Mark scooped her into his arms without hesitation. “We’re going to the hospital. Get in the car. All of you.”

The guy groaned on the ground. Mark paused, glaring down at him with ice in his eyes.

“You’re lucky she’s breathing.”

And then he was gone.

The ER was cold and fluorescent-lit. They took Y/N back the moment they heard the words “possibly drugged”.

Mark sat in a hard chair, elbows on his knees, head in his hands.

Her two friends were curled up on the bench next to him, shaken and scared. He kept his voice steady for their sake.

“You girls did the right thing. Calling me. Staying with her.”

They nodded.

One of them whispered, “I’m sorry... we shouldn’t have gone. We thought it’d be safe.”

Mark looked up, eyes bloodshot but steady. “Teenagers do dumb shit. I did, too. Hell, I snuck into worse places at your age.”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair.

“I’m not mad that she went. I’m mad she didn’t tell me. She didn’t think she could. That’s on me.”

They stayed silent for a long moment.

Then a nurse came out. “Mr. Meachum? She’s stable. Coherent. She’s asking for you.”

He was on his feet before she finished the sentence.

Y/N was in a hospital bed, hooked to an IV, her face pale, her hands trembling slightly. But her eyes lit up the moment she saw him.

“Dad…”

Mark didn’t hesitate. He sat beside her and pulled her into a careful hug.

“I’m here. I’m here, sweetheart. I’m not going anywhere.”

She swallowed hard. “I didn’t mean to... I just wanted to feel normal.”

His voice broke. “You don’t ever have to apologize for being a kid. But you have to call me. If something ever feels wrong. If someone scares you. Even if it’s just a hunch.”

She nodded quickly, eyes welling up.

“I didn’t want you to be mad.”

“I’m not mad at you.” His eyes darkened. “But I am going to make sure that boy never sees the outside of a courtroom again.”

She blinked. “You’re not... gonna kill him, are you?”

Mark smirked bitterly. “Not unless I get really bored waiting for the system to do its job.”

That got a weak laugh out of her, even if it turned into a sob halfway through.

Later, after she’d fallen asleep in the bed, Mark stepped back out to the waiting room. Her friends’ parents had just arrived, rushing to comfort them.

“Thank you,” one of the mothers said to Mark, tears in her eyes. “For taking care of them.”

Mark nodded, but his eyes never left the hallway where his daughter was.

“She’s a tough one,” he muttered. “Gets it from her mom.”

As the sun started to rise, Mark sat beside her hospital bed, her hand in his, still wrapped in his jacket.

He wasn’t letting go.

Not tonight.

Not ever.

Taglist: @globetrotter28 @star-yawnznn

#x oc #x reader #x you #jensen ackles x reader #jensen ackles x you #jensen ackles x oc #mark meachum x you #mark meachum x daughter reader #mark meachum x oc

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freyito · 10 months ago

Text

ᴛʀɪᴄᴋ ᴏʀ ᴛʀᴇᴀᴛ! ⨟ ʙᴏᴏᴛʜɪʟʟ

✭ pairing(s): boothill x gn reader

✩ in which: he celebrates halloween with you.

✧ a/n: i wanna do a nice little short series for a select few characters for halloween... basically the idea is . trick is the silly and annoying things they'd do on halloween and treat is the stupidly sweet and sappy things theyd do on halloween. no promise on which characters will be a part of this series! it could range from twisted wonderland to elden ring el oh el

✦ taglist: @fffrost, @shinysora

→ trick or treat masterlist

🗒 cw: gn reader, just fluff :P, DAD BOOTHILL!!!, not proofread

✎ wc: 610

Trick

Boothill is a little shit during Halloween. If he’s able to settle down with you, you’re in for a lot of stupid scares. If you’re afraid of horror but still in the mood for some scary movies, he’s making sure you’ve got nothing to hold on to aside from him. He’s poking at your sides, trying to make you take your hands away from your eyes or look at the screen when a particularly scary scene plays. Ain’t no fun in watchin’ it alone!

He’ll find a way to drag you off to some sort of haunted house, or festival with scare actors. He’s seen so much, a few actors jumping out at him and screaming doesn’t get to him. But if it makes you flinch, even a little bit, you’re subjected to such torture. He laughs whenever you jump or swear or cover your mouth, and it makes you want to punch him in the gut right then and there. Don’t think about trying to wiggle your way out of it, he acts all sad and defeated if you don’t go out with him.

At home, he is equally annoying. Hiding around corners, staring at you from said corners until you notice, cackling when you scream, and many more. One time you woke up to him standing over you, his eye emitting an eerie red hue. Though, you still don’t know if it was because he was charging, or if he was actually messing with you.

Treat

With all that being said… if you were to scold him for all he’s done, he’s genuinely remorseful. Boothill sulks a little, but his apology is genuine. He does all the chores he can before he sets off, even takes you out to a nice dinner before Halloween, maybe a couple of drinks (but those are mainly for him). The unfortunate thing is it happens every year, but the pay off (the pampering) is just wonderful.

On Halloween night, he’s absolutely jubilant. He can’t sit still for a minute. He’s practically waiting at the door like a dog waiting for its owner to come home. He’s practically begging you for him to be the one to pass out candy to the kids. He just adores them dressed up in their little costumes, it’s like he’s a whole new man when he closes the door. All mushy over the little pirate who took one too many pieces of candy, or the princess who did a little bow before she left.

If you two have kids, he’s dressing up with them, no questions asked. Even if he ends up as a tree or a trash bag, he could care less. He loves it. He makes you take a couple photos with your phone, then like a thousand more on an old polaroid camera, so he can at least keep one with him. He also makes sure to hit all the houses. Twice. Doesn’t matter if the people at the door recognize them, Boothill’s got a way of persuasion none can beat. If he knows there’s any house giving out full-sized candy bars, he’s probably raided the bowl. He’ll leave some extra for other kids of course (while he adores his own, he’s not cruel), but his kiddos deserve the best, so they’re getting the best.

Even though exhaustion is non-existent to him now, by the end of the night, he’s all tuckered out. Crashed on the couch with your kids, a few stray wrappers he forgot to pick up before ushering the kids off to bed. Trick or treating is hard work, you know! Don’t be mad when he’s tired, he worked his behind off!

#⁺◟freyito #⁺◟trick or treat!#boothill x reader #boothill hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #boothill x gn reader #honkai star rail x gn reader #hsr x gn reader

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lynxgriffin · 7 months ago

Note

I saw a dude who sent an ask to akaemon about some aholes will post child gore on people ask boxes

Take care

Hey so, I didn't respond to these when posted since I was kind of heading out the door for my holiday break at the time, but I just want to point this out for anytime this comes up in the future:

These things are pretty much always hoaxes. I am certain I've seen variations of the "They're going to flood this fandom tag/inboxes with gore!" warnings circulating for almost a decade at this point. I've seen it be adapted to Discord servers, too. I got a bunch of messages from people warning me of it, and while I'm sure the intent was in good faith, literally the only proof of such was another tumblr post that gave next to no specifics, so my first thought was that it was a hoax.

So, the next time you see these sorts of warnings, before reblogging, stop and ask yourself:

Is there a real sense of urgency attached to the warning? Is it encouraging you to not stop and ask questions?

Is there some moral or disgust-based component to the warning? This will also encourage you to not think, but instead to react emotionally.

Does the warning say at all who "they" are? Is there a specific group or person with any intent to do harm? Is there any proof provided of this?

Is this warning corroborated by multiple reliable sources, or is it only coming from one source?

Next time this inevitably comes up in the future, don't panic, but stop, think, and ask questions. It's important to be able to recognize such hoaxes not just on places like tumblr, but anywhere on the internet!

#ask lynx stuff

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suevi-if · 1 month ago

Note

"I'd like to think it's the same for other creators, but maybe my views are a little naive in that regard."

No it's not, I'm sorry 😄 You've had it pretty well. I didn't know there was a discord, it's not advertised anywhere visible. Many creators drop a demo and are met with silence and no community support, if you go to forum there is even an active thread about that. I think because you were there for a lot of anon drama, that could boost visibility, but it's not the usual experience with having a new demo.

Hi anons, thank you for your messages. <3

The discord is not official, it's privately made and hosted by a fellow IF author. I got invited through another writer, hence why I stated to message me. We're always happy about new members, and in the past, I've already went out of my way to invite people I saw struggling.

So again, if you're a writer, no matter if you're established or just starting out, if you want to connect with others, shoot me a message. I'll invite you.

I just don't want to officially post the invite link because, quite frankly, I know what the internet is like and I know if I post it, there's a chance it will get swamped by non-authors - and that's not the purpose of the server.

As I said in this previous post:

I understand how tough it can be; there are IFs that I really like, but the blogs just seem to have very low traffic on them, and I try to help them in some ways. And there are people who don't seem to recognize how well they are actually doing - I've come across those, too.

I fully recognize that I've gained more traction than normal because of the drama that went on - but I also lost followers because of it; not everyone wants to see all the drama unfold on their timelines, and that's totally fair.

At the beginning of my blog, before the drama hit, it was just like the others - to be honest, looking at other, "younger" blogs, I even had less traction than a lot of them did until my main post was reblogged by some bigger names. I probably just was lucky enough to get recognized by the right people at the right time, and I acknowledge that.

Many creators drop a demo and are met with silence and no community support, if you go to forum there is even an active thread about that.

I'm not a lot on the forums tbh, I probably should check them out more often. I simply prefer tumblr. :)

I did look for that thread but couldn't find it, which is probably because I'm so inexperienced with the forums and at navigating them.

I did however find the monthly writer support threads, and Harris (@hpowellsmith) does their best to continuously highlight new and updated IFs.

I understand that the beginning is really tough, I've been there. But you can always reach out and ask for help or advice; not just me, other authors are also there for you. We all want to see the IF community thrive, we're part of it.

#answers #personal #off topic

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oh-no-its-bird · 1 month ago

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I love your fic, Tsist the knife. I've been diligently following the tag since you got infected with the brain worms for it!!! As horrible as it sounds the timing was really great for his return to consciousness. Trauma really can be a great excuse for *drastic personality shift*. Im holding Uchiha Houha close to my heart, I love him. But also I cant wait to see him just, baffle, everyone around him! Loved the fic so far!!!

Im ngl, 'Twist the Knife' would have been a really cool alt title to Working for the Knife. Pretty aptly describes the first 2 chapters too <3

IM SO GLAD YOU LIKE IT THO AND IM SO HAPPY TO HEAR YOUVE BEEN FOLLOWING ALONG !!!! It honestly makes me really really happy to know that there are some people who got excited and invested in the AU by the original posts, then got to read it once the first chapters came out.

I also totally recognize ur name and pfp tbh, you've been hanging around for a while so I'll see u in my comments or reblogs and go "You. 🫵"

Houhua and Itachi's relationship is gonna be so important to like, literally every aspect of the story going forward tbh, so I wanna shine a big light on it and take my time with how it builds. It's such an important building block for both Houhua and Itachi as characters and where their stories will take them !!

Houhua knows that his dad was a Senju, but like. He does not actually have the provided context for why that's important. He just knows that that was his dad's last name before he married his mom, and even then it's like a very vague knowledge bc what kid actually pays attention to that.

As Shang Houhua, he dropped Naruto after Wave arc. He never met Tsunade. He never got Senju lore. He doesn't know who the fuck the Senju are or what their deal is. He knows of Tsunade only from the rare Naruto meme he'd run into as 'big titty gambler lady from the ninja anime.' Bro is NOT prepared in the SLIGHTEST for anything Senju related that may or may not be coming his way.

Kakashi and Houhua's dynamic cracks me up to think ab tbh. Houhua is gonna live in Kakashi's sideview for a long time, just kind of there around Itachi occasionally. I still have to plan if they're gonna get to interact 1 on 1 before the massacre at all, but if they do it'll still be with Kakashi looking at him as 'Itachi's buddy, that kid I babysat once or twice with Rin and Obito.'

I honestly cant wait for the after-massacre interactions between them. They're going to be SO fucking painful for Kakashi, he wants to run away and hide under his bed. I wonder tho, if he can bond with Houhua as two people who were close to Itachi before he appeared to go off the deep end...?

We'll just have to see, I guess!!

THANK U SM THO FOR UR ASK IM REALLY HAPPY THAT YOU'RE ENJOYING THE FIC !!!! Please take this snippet of chapter 3 as additional thanks as I try to fight through my writers block to finish it

(I don't think I've posted this yet ?? But I have an itch that I have? So maybe I have on the discord server, but I think I'm safe on tumblr)

#Uchiha Houhua #at this point I should change the tag for that to working for the knife but the tumblr tag system would probably revolt against me for it #and also that sounds like work. so.#immmm not gonnaaaaa #birds asks #naruto #svsss #THANK YOU FOR UR ASK THO IM ALWAYS HAPPY TO RECIEVE ASKS #ESPECIALLY AB MY FICS #YIPPIE !!!!!

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jemiswumbo · 1 year ago

Text

you be tails, i’ll be sonic (18+)

twitch streamer!luke x reader

part one

authors note: hi hi i’m back with a highly requested part two!! i loved making the graphics for this chapter lol. hope you all enjoy!!!

title is from you be tails, i’ll be sonic by a day to remember. lyrics have no relation to the fanfic, but it IS an absolute banger. anthem. bop. classic.

tags/warnings: smau elements. nsfw elements - MDNI. not proofread. use of y/n.

Over on the desk, Luke’s phone would not stop vibrating.

For the last hour, you’d managed to ignore it, as you were too preoccupied by Luke fucking you with no remorse. Now, as you lay spent and naked and cuddled together until the blankets, the sound was driving you insane.

“Luke,” you whined, burying your face into the crook of his neck (which was now littered with red and purple hickies). “Please shut your phone off.”

Luke chuckled beside you, running a hand through your messy hair. “I will in a minute, I’ll probably have to tweet an explanation for why I shut off my stream so suddenly.”

“Okay. That’s fair,” You decided. Luke leaned over and stretched out his arm, grasping the phone from his desk. He snuggled back in beside you and you watched as he scrolled through a flood of notifications.

The first app he opened was discord, where his gamer friends were chatting in their private server about Luke’s random disconnection.

“Thank god one of my friends was able to figure it out.” Luke murmured, causing you to giggling. Annabeth was, by far, the smartest of the group. Most days it seemed like she was the only one with a working brain cell. You and her got along great, as you worked to keep the boys and thalia in check. They loved to cause a scene or do some dumb shit no matter where they went. It was tons of fun and always entertaining, but also nerve wracking. If they ever caused too big of a scene, someone could takes pictures or videos, upload them… as some of the most popular twitch streamers, everyone would be recognized instantly.

Except for you.

You (by choice) remained out of the spotlight. You loved Luke dearly and desperately wanted to make your relationship public, but the thought of having hundreds of thousands of eyes watching you, loving you, hating you…. it was scary. And you weren’t delusional — you knew, one day, you’d have to step into the public eye. You just didn’t know when you’d be ready.

Luke wrapped up the Discord conversation with his friends and switched over to Twitter, where tons of his fans were talking about his disconnection. You took a deep breath to clear your head, and read some of the tweets on his phone screen.

“Your fans are so goofy,” You said, pressing a kiss to Luke’s cheek. “So… what’s the move? Wifi crashed? Rage quit? Oh my god, what if you confirm Boner Theory?!”

“Jesus, never in my life,” Luke groaned. “I’ll just say it was my wifi. Unless….”

Your eyes widened. You sat up, not caring that the bed sheet fell to your lap, exposing your naked chest. Your heartbeat was definitely exceeding a normal BPM reading. “Baby.. I love you. So much. And I would love to be public. I would love to be your date to the Streamer Awards, and support you at Twitch Con, and cheer you on during your Fortnite tournaments…. But I just don’t think I’m ready.”

“Hey, hey,” Luke sat up, too, enveloping you in his strong, muscled arms and squeezing you tight. “It’s okay, it’s okay. I just thought it wouldn’t hurt to ask. But you know I respect your choices and would never pressure you to do anything you don’t want to do.”

“I know,” You sighed, relishing in the warm embrace, and the feeling of your bare chest pressed against his. You swore he could feel how fast your heart was racing. “But also, you can’t say we’re dating now. Boner Theory is a thing, babe. Surely, at least one of your fans would connect the dots.”

Luke laughed and pulled away from the hug, taking a moment to press and long and loving kiss to your head. He smiled at you, his brown eyes sparkling. “You’re so perfect, you know that?”

You shoved him away. “Okay. Tweet something, so we can go watch a movie and smoke and have more sex.”

“Okay, okay,” Luke said, kissing you again and sending some half assed tweet out to his fans. He shut off his phone and grinned. “Let’s order take out, too.”

*************************************

A few weeks later…

*************************************

It was, officially, your one year anniversary of dating Luke Castellan.

You were beyond happy, and over the moon excited for the special dinner you had both planned for the evening. Luke had surprised you with reservations to your all time favourite restaurant. You were going to surprise him afterwards with a brand new lingerie set. It was going to be perfect.

The only, only thing that was making you nervous was the fact that you’d decided today was the day.

You were going to tell Luke, tonight at dinner, that you were ready to go public.

After the whole Boner Theory ordeal, you’d spent countless nights and hours debating your previous decision to keep your relationship private. You knew it was going to have to happen eventually. You also didn’t mind his fan girls; but deep down you got giddy over the thought of showing them all he was taken and he was yours. It would feel so good. And you wouldn’t have to stay out of photos when you hung out with Luke, Percy, Annabeth, Grover, and Thalia. You could go to events with him. You could come up behind him while he was streaming to drop off a coffee or food or kiss his cheek without worrying about it.

There were cons, of course. Most of the debating revolved around the cons, and whether or not it was truly worth it. After all these weeks, you decided it was worth it. You were one hundred percent ready.

You spent the few hours before dinner having an everything shower, doing your best makeup, curling your hair, and choosing an outfit. It helped keep your mind occupied and the stress at bay.

Around 7pm, Luke texted saying he was outside of your apartment. You grabbed your purse and slid on a pair of black heels before racing out the door.

Luke’s car was not hard to miss. He had chosen to pick you up in his bright red McLaren, since it was a super special occasion. He typically never took it out of his garage as it was insanely expensive and just downright beautiful.

You gave him a little twirl on your walk over to the passenger seat, not missing the impressed grin he flashed at your from inside. You hopped in the car and didn’t hesitate to lean over and place a kiss to his lips. He presented you a huge bouquet of fresh, dark red roses. You gasped and clutched the bouquet in your arms, kissing his cheek and expressing your gratitude.

“You look stunning,” Luke said, eyeing you up, clearly in awe. You laughed and blushed, enjoying the praise. “Seriously. I don’t know what I did to deserve you.”

“What did I do to deserve you?” You retorted, heart racing at the sight of his gorgeous features. He was dressed up, wearing a sharp grey suit with a dark with a black button up beneath. He was so good looking, you simply swooned just from his smile alone. The smell of the roses made you feel like you were on cloud nine.

The drive to the restaurant was quick. The waiter showed you to your table, which was secluded in the back corner and shrouded by a wall and some pretty plants. The lights were dimmed and candles were lit. Luke ordered an expensive bottle of wine, which you both shared and sipped on while waiting for the food to arrive. It was now or never.

“Okay, baby,” You started, dabbing your napkin to your lips. “I’ve thought long and hard about this. But I think I’m ready to go public with our relationship.”

Across the table, Luke’s eyes widened and he spluttered, mid sip. He coughed into the back of his hand and you bit your lip nervously, waiting for his response.

“Are you sure, angel?” Luke asked, reaching out to take your hand in his. He rubbed his thumb against your skin in comfort. “Once we go public we can never go back. My fans will know who you are.”

“I know,” You said, firmly. You offered him a warm smile. “Like I said, I’ve been thinking about this for a while. And I’m ready. Definitely, totally ready.”

“Well in that case, I’ve had an Instagram post drafted for like, the last three months. I can finally post it!” Luke said, picking his phone up from the corner of the table.

You smacked his arm in playful angry, failing to suppress the smile making it way to your cheeks. “You are so dumb. They better be cute pictures, at least.”

“They are, I swear!” Luke laughed. “Cute caption, too. You promise you’re okay with me posting it?”

“Yes, Luke. I promise.” You took his hand again, letting out a shaky breath and trying to muster some courage. “I know it’s only been a year of dating, but I can whole heartedly say you are my best friend in the whole world. I love you. I truly do see us being together forever. So I want to make it public now, on our terms.”

“I love you, too, baby.” Luke said with an attractive grin. You blushed and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear shyly, whilst he set up his Instagram post. After a few silent moments, he flashed you a triumphant thumbs up. “There, it’s posted. I tagged you, too.”

You ignored the buzzing of your own phone, choosing to flip it to silent mode. “Happy Anniversary, my love.”

Luke smiled at you, once again taking your hand in his. With utmost sincerity and his heart of gold, he replied, “Happy Anniversary to you too, angel.”

a/n: thank you all for reading, hope you enjoy!! again this is not proofread. part 3 with the streamer awards??? 👀👀

taglist: @augustiscoquette

click here to read part three!

#jemiswriting #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x you #percy jackson #requests are open <3 #thank you all for the positive response to part one it truly means a lot!!!#twitch streamer luke x reader

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