#but reader is canonically fem

[wordsbymae]

The Fisherman Pt. 1

Continues from the prologue that you can find on my masterlist. I actually really struggled with this one, I have so many ideas of where to take it, that I couldn't really choose one consistent way of bridging it to where I want it.

The fog curled around the bay, seeping into the cracks and crevices of the island. You imagined the fog being devoured by the land itself, nourishing the barren, desolate rock you were forced to call home. The sky was near black, the sun suffocated by dark clouds. Rain pelted down, leaving harsh lines along the window you looked out from. You shivered in slight fear as the small house shook from a powerful burst of wind. The storm was frightening in its power, the lighthouse overlooking the bay failing to make a difference.

You felt nothing but disappointment.

Disappointed the fisherman was not amongst the waves. You had hoped his boat would have been dashed across the jagged rocks lining the cliffs. Instead, he made his presence known by the sound of his heavy footfalls up the old wooden stairs. He pauses for a brief moment at the last step, his weight shifting slightly. An audible creak lifting into the air. Your eyes were still trained solely on the waves crashing against the rocks. Even above the rain and wind, you could still hear the constant sound of the bay in all its chaos. You shifted your gaze from the bay to the fisherman's reflection. His sad, lonely eyes staring back at you. Almost as if he was willing you to turn around.

His mouth opens.

Then shuts.

He looks down back the stairs, weighing his options. He shifts his weight onto his back foot, the decision of leaving you alone silently on his mind.

You begin to left out a breath you'd been holding.

His weight shifts again, the creaking of the wood signalling your fate.

He begins to walk to you. You suck back in a breath, straighten your back and close your eyes.

He stops mere inches away from you. You can smell the salt on his skin and feel the heat he provides. In this cold, decaying house he felt like hell fire.

Your eyes remained shut, your ears listening to his shallow, frantic breaths, almost in time with the waves breaking on the rocks.

You open your eyes slowly, willing him to be gone. He stood silently behind you, eyes fixated on yours in the reflection.

"Will you come for supper?" he croaks, struggling to articulate each word. You struggle to remember a time you've heard his voice. Even before he took you kicking and screaming from your small village by the sea, you could hardly say you've ever heard anything from his mouth. Not even a whisper.

You turn to face him, eyes dull and lifeless. You could feel a dull ache in your belly, you imagined it was hunger. Though in the week you have been trapped within these walls, you failed to feel anything but despair. Not even the pains of hunger or the dryness of your throat for the want of water could compare to the growing emptiness within you.

You stare into his eyes. They unnerve you. So bright and cold. You remarked to yourself that they seem to be mimicking humanity rather than being of it. Looking into his eyes filled you with dread. You turned your attention back to the window, away from his soulless eyes.

"No thank you" you answer, keeping your voice level. His shoulders sag at the reply, you had been sitting at this window in the attic for hours now. Before that, the window in the kitchen. Before that, your eyes were focused on the ceilings rafters in your bedroom, counting each strand of the spiders webs swaying like flags in the breeze that floated into the house.

He sighs, disappointment flows across his face, before a dull spark of emotion makes its home on his face. You think for a second it is guilt or maybe just the way the rain on the window muddles his reflection.

You watch as his hand ruffles into his pocket, the same time another gust of wind pushes against the house. You don't fear it this time round.

His hand removes itself from the abyss it found itself in. You can't see what is inside his hand, only catching a bright glimmer of gold. It blinds you for a moment, until you blink, and the glimmer turns to nothing. He ponders for a moment, a finger plays around the edges of the small object in your hand.

"I have this for you" his voice is smoother this time, still harsh, but mellowed in its little usage. His face still looking upon the object. Eyes becoming focused purely on the motions he conducts with his finger.

He blinks slowly and lifts his gaze towards you.

You turn to face him, eyes slowly falling upon his open palm. He reaches it towards you in a silent offering. He needs not to say a word, the action screams loudly at you instead.

'Please, Please, Please, Please, Please'

Asking for what you don't know. You've tried to ponder his motives, his desires, but he never made them known.

A small golden ring laid upon his palm, a dark lilac gem sat amongst vines of gold, the gem catches the light with ease, another bright glimmer catches your gaze.

There is something about it, the craftmanship, the way light seemed to bend itself away from it, the cold that radiated from it. Without thought your hand inches towards it, hesitating just as you begin to grasp the metal.

You doubt his intentions, his motive behind gifting you this strange yet beautiful artifact. He stole you from your home, ripped you from your family, marooned you amongst a decaying house upon a desolate island. But as you gazed into the gem, the specks of gold, silver and lilac dancing in the light, the worries amongst your mind floated away, devoured like fog into the cracks of the island.

Before you truly comprehended what was occurring, the ring was slipped onto your left ring finger. You weren't even sure if it was you who did it.

Now nestled on your hand, it was warm, it felt like it had been there for years. But of course it does, because it had been there for years. Hadden it? The feeling of emptiness and despair lifted from you in a second, collected with your worries and floated away to be consumed. In fact, what exactly were you upset about? You know you had felt something, or maybe the absence of something. But it was gone, as if you were waking from a strange and unsettling dream. You admired the ring upon your finger, just as you lifted your gaze to admire your husband. He was so good to you, providing for you, protecting you. Because that is what husbands do, right?

The rain continued, even falling harder, the clouds finally succeeded in diminishing the last of the suns light, and darkness descended upon the bay. Yet, it was all perfect. The chaos and the violence of nature was so so so perfect. Everything was. Because of cause it was. You had your husband, your love, right in front of you. Everything would forever be perfect with him.

A bright smile broke across your face. You wondered for a brief second why it felt so unnatural. Oh well, these feelings come and go.

Your husband's face shone with delight at your display of emotion. A dry, flustered laugh began to emerge from his mouth.

"Do you love me?" he urged, hands rough from work gripping onto yours, thumb playing with your wedding band.

"Of course I do...um...husband!" you giggled back, stopping only to realise you have forgotten his name. How could you forget your husband's name? How embarrassing! Oh well, these things happen.

He allowed himself to finally laugh, a desperate, ugly display of pure joy. You laughed along side him, not understanding why he felt the need to display such a sight.

A feeling began creeping over you as he continued, you couldn't quite place it. It wasn't very nice though, it was harsh and almost wet in feeling, like your heart was being drowned under a roaring current. Your laughs began to mutate, from those of joy to laughs of fear, what was this growing inside you? It felt slimy and ugly, pushing out from within, like a creature desperate to be released. Tears began to flood your eyes. The pain of this feeling encompassed your body. Your husband still laughed, why couldn't he see your tears? Why didn't he feel this grip of dread that overwhelmed you?

Sobs began to rack your frame, breaths came out if huffs and gasps for breath, you didn't understand anything. Who was this man? Surely if you were married you would know him by name? Surely you would feel safe with him, but instead fear and sorrow encompassed the air you shared between you.

You looked down to your joined hands and a gleam of purple stopped your questions. The gleam grows, pulsating in beat with your heart, your cries softened, the feeling of dread and fear slowly slithered away, back down deep deep deep deep inside you.

You looked up. Oh! Your husband was looking at you, with...fear?

"Is everything okay husband?" you ask. Head tilting, tears drying upon your face. Had you been crying? Surely not.

"Yes, yes of course my love. Everything is absolutely perfect” he rushes, a smile lifting the corners of his mouth.

You smile back.

Everything is perfect.

[stursweet]

PLAY

pairing : matt sturniolo x f!reader

warnings : sexual content - the usual 😊 fuck off if u ain’t fuckin!!! (subish matt?)

an: hi sexies💖 take this as my apology for taking so long of a break. i’m back and y’all bout to be real sick of me and my dumb ass ALL OVER AGAIN!🤗🤗🤗 i love you guys! send me some new reqs!! also PLEASE recognize i fist fought my fuckin demons and wrote some matt instead of babygirlchris because all y’all fuckin matt girls.. IM PUTTIN YALL FIRST!😔

his room is dim, though bright enough to illuminate him perfectly - hair wild and messy beneath his headset, hips sunk low in his chair, fingers fidgeting wildly with his controller.

it’s been two hours since he’d sat down and begun to play - your patience dwindling rapidly. from your spot on his bed, he looked sinful : so focused, so tantalizing..

his tongue pressed to the inside of his cheek. the veins that danced throughout his arms and hands. his lips and their taunting tone of pink. the small pepper of color across his cheeks-

temptation wins and you’re padding over to him without much thought. his eyes don’t leave the screen, though, even with your new sudden placement - standing alongside his chair, clad in his shirt and a thong.

“you okay?” he questions without looking at you, his voice dripping with rasp and honey. you don’t respond - only lowering onto your knees in front of him, in between his legs. he looks down at that- eyes widening, blood traveling to rest in his cheeks.

“i- what are y-?” he stammers, hands fidgeting against the controller aimlessly with sudden nerve. you look up, meeting his gaze, taking note of the intense pink of his cheeks.

“nothing. keep playing,” you reply blandly, peering up from your spot below him. he swallows, evidently flustered. reluctantly, he nods- hesitantly tearing his eyes away from you to look back at the screen.

watching in amusement as his hands shake slightly with his controller, you bring a slow hand up and place it on his thigh : dragging your palm up the surface of his sweatpants slowly.

his eyes shoot down to you once again, focused on your hand inching farther up his thigh. he attempts to put his controller down; intending to direct his full attention to you, but- he’s interrupted by your voice below him :

“keep playing or i’ll stop.” you spit, voice unrelenting. he shudders, scanning your features for a moment, inhaling shakily before nodding.

he forces his eyes to dart to the screen in front of him, the light emanating a soft blue light onto his features. he swallows, adams apple bopping beneath the skin in his throat.

you continue the slow hike of your hand, suddenly reaching to palm him over his sweats. you watch as his face contorts in pleasure - eyes fluttering closed, eyebrows gently crinkling. he does his best to recover quickly, thumbing at a few buttons on his controller.

sliding your hand up some more, you play your fingertips at the waistband of his boxers, dipping a finger beneath the fabric and tracing a single, slow line against his skin. his breathing has become more erratic, his fingers fumbling against the controller.

“please- don’t tease- ” he whispers, eyes trained onto your hand at his waistband. his voice is small and raspy, laced with need.

“doesn’t look like you’re playing, baby..” you reply, retracting your hand from its spot, “i’m gonna have to stop.” you pout, voice teasing and low. you watch amused as he begins to frantically shake his head “no” -

“no-no, i’ll play, i-i’m playing, swear, i’m playing. keep going, please?” he chokes, small cracks in his tone. after a few seconds of no touch or reaction from you, he speaks again -

“please, i’ll b-be so good, so good for you. promise-“

he’s cut off by your hand returning to its previous spot, only now reaching further underneath the fabric, swiping your thumb against his tip and collecting his precum. a shaky exhale escapes his lips. you take note of his eyes staying attached to the screen - he’s listening.

“gonna stay quiet?” you question, watching as he nods his head in desperation. stroking him slowly, you tug off his boxers and sweats in a swift motion.

he looks down at you, eyes hooded and cheeks flushed, his breathing sporadic and wild. your eyes flicker to the screen, cocking your head towards it, signaling for him to focus.

“sorry, sorr-“ he whines, a whimper catching in his throat. he directs his attention to the screen again, pleasure etched into his features. you watch his hands struggle with the controller, pressing your tongue flat against him and licking a long stripe up his length.

he swallows, closing his eyes. you watch him fight to keep his composure, trying his hardest to concentrate on the screen, to listen to you- struggling wildly.

his eyes open again and on the screen, you slip his tip into your mouth - pushing yourself farther to take him the whole way down your throat, and back up. quiet whines whines escape his lips, fighting to stay quiet. you repeat the slow action a few times, pulling off with a pop.

“fuck-“ he stutters, mouth falling agape and eyes closing when you take him back into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks.

his fingertips are suddenly in your hair, grabbing a fistful - in need of something to grab on to. pulling off, you’re quick to remind him -

“play,” you whisper, a trail of saliva connected from his tip to your lips. he throws his head back in frustration, a sinful whine escaping his throat.

“can’t,” he whispers, voice cracking. he retracts his hand from your hair and rests it aimlessly on the controller - only to not entirely disobey your wishes. his game has already been lost, though - his eyes tightly shut and head rested on the back of his chair.

“thought you were going to be good?” you question, but only to hear him plead his case - the game has been pushed from your mind. you want his hands in your hair, his begs and cries to release into your mouth.

“look at me,” you coo, tongue swirling around his tip, stroking him quickly with your hand. he’s slick with your saliva. his eyes dart down to you, quickly tossing the controller onto the desk in front of him.

his eyes are dark, his pupils blown out - lips a dark, wet pink. blood dances underneath his cheeks, his breathing heavy and erratic. he looks perfect- deliciously desperate and absolutely ruined.

“want it all over my face,” you tell him, sliding your tongue over his slit. a sinful moan slips from his throat, his eyes falling shut.

“i’m- im so close, so cl-“ he fights to speak, cut off by you taking him entirely into your mouth again, bopping your head at quickly.

his fingertips tangle into your hair once again, a large handful beneath his palm - he tightens his grip, a few more whimpers and cries escaping his lips before letting go:

“i’m cumming, i’m-“

the words spill from his mouth so sweet, tone quiet and cracking, entirely at your mercy. you pull off of him quickly, stroking him with your hand as his release shoots out in hot, white spurts : covering your cheeks, lips, and chin.

you watch as he catches his breath, chest heaving and mouth agape. after a few moments, he gains a bit of composure, and looks down at you.

you smile at him, wiping your face clean with your fingers and popping them into your mouth. he watches with his lip between his teeth, cheeks impossibly redder.

you stand up, giving him a few small, soft kisses on the lips.

“come to bed?”

[luv4fushi]

do you want kids?

jjk - gojo satoru, nanami kento, fushiguro megumi, itadori yuji, inumaki toge, yuta okkotsu

how your jjk boyfriend would react to you wanting children with them

fem!reader, super quick & unorganized because i need to get rid of these (I HAVE NO STORAGE LOL)

a/n: none of this is canon at all but idc i love all of them and this is how they’d respond in my head T-T

[k-4-ni]

JASON TODD who has every single allergy engraved into his brain, you ordered a sandwich with something you are allergic to? Nope, He's giving it back. He finds out that he keeps something you're allergic to in his place. Nope, he's throwing it away. He always checks the ingredients on chips, packets of biscuits, and food, He never wants to see you in pain or swollen from something that could been effortlessly avoided.

JASON TODD who is an absolute whore for cuddles, it doesn't matter what you're doing or where you are, whether you're cooking or studying, fixing a broken object— he's going to drag you back to bed and smother you with his muscly arms and sloppy kisses, saying something along the lines of:

"Please, Just five more minutes... Breakfast can wait."

JASON TODD t keep his hands or eyes off you, he can't help it— He treasures the way your hair sways back and forth, the way it shines and curls and kisses his fingers whenever he twirls it in his hands, or the way you cook away a feast in the kitchen, keeping an eye on you in case you needed a hand, keeping an eye on the way you tugged at your bottom lip with your teeth, the way your apron hugged and embraced your curves like you were carved out of roses and silk, God he would've trembled to his knees if you asked him to.

JASON TODD who can't control his hands whenever he's around you— cuddling you— devouring you, savouring you, his hand squeezing, kneading, touching and massaging... From the soft, plush flesh of your thighs to the curves and dents of your hips, the way his fingers glide over your skin sends his brain into a frenzy, the things he would do just to have your thick thighs cage his head in are unbelievable.

"You're so soft, angel... So soft and squishy, C'mere lemme hold you."

[chrollohearttags]

Armin giving you those sad puppy dog eyes and little boyish charm looking like the human equivalent of 🥺 but asking you some neck ass shit like “when are you gonna let me get you pregnant?”

[rougecreator1]

Beauty is Pain

|| Regina George x female reader

|| Warnings: gossip talk, hookup mention, Regina's got an attitude, light swearing, y/n use

|| Sumary: Regina's high heels have been hurting her all day. Reader notices and offers that they switch shoes.

Requests open!

~~~~

Regina would never admit it out loud, but she was exhausted. Walking around school all day in heels was never easy. Sometimes she might sneak a break in the bathroom and take them off for a few minutes. But she hasn't had the chance to do that yet. Well, beauty is pain. Isn't that what they say?

At the sound of last period bell, Regina headed for the cafeteria. Her and the rest of the plastics (including you) had planned on skipping and going shopping. Karen, Gretchen and Y/N were already seated at their usual table. Talking about any and all things gossip related as they waited for Regina.

"Oh my God! Did you hear that a jock hooked up with an art freak?" Gretchen asks, grinning as she talks about the latest gossip.

"Ew, seriously?" Regina makes her presence known as she joins them at the table, taking a seat next to Y/N who smiles and gives the blonde's cheek a kiss.

"Yes! Oh my God! It's been like all over snapchat private stories." Gretchen nods, taking out her phone to show Regina the stories," seriously not fetch."

"Gretchen! Stop trying to make fetch happen." Regina rolled her eyes, Y/N would raise an eyebrow at the blonde. Noticing how she seemed to be in a mood. Not wanting to ask out right with the girls there, she takes out her phone to text Regina.

Y/N: 'Are you okay?'

Regina glanced down at her phone in her hands when she felt it buzz. Looking back at Y/N who was watching her with a concerned gaze. The blonde scoffed and texted back.

Regina: 'Fine. Obviously 🙄 shut up'

Y/N read the text and sighed. She knew Regina well enough to know she wasn't actually fine and that her attitude was the result of something. She just didn't know what; Regina's attitude was not going to scare her away from finding out.

After chatting a little more, the girls all got up and started heading towards the front doors of the school to go shopping. That's when Y/N noticed Regina was walking slightly different. Almost like she had a slight limp? Everything fell into place and made sense.

Without warning, Y/N grabbed Regina by her arm and pulled her off to the side as Gretchen and Karen went to Regina's jeep. Too busy chatting with each other to notice Y/N and Regina stopped following.

"The hell are you doing?" Regina snapped, looking at her with a look mixed with frustration and confusion.

"Switch shoes." Y/N replied, in a tone that wasn't quite asking or demanding. It was somewhere between the two.

"Excuse me? No, I'm not wearing your sneakers." Regina folded her arms as she stared down Y/N. Y/N, however, wasn't intimidated. Something Regina found awfully annoying." Plus, you can't even fucking walk in heels. You'll just embarrass both of us."

"I wasn't asking, Gina." Y/N replied, standing her ground on this. She wasn't going to let the blonde torture herself just to make a fashion statement.

Regina was taken aback. She wasn't used to being talked back to. Who in their right mind would dare talk back to Regina George? Clearly, Y/N would. Whether it was stupid or brave, Regina didn't know. Part of her couldn't help but feel impressed by her girlfriend's stubbornness with this. Usually she would argue with her, but the blonde wasn't in the mood. So (very reluctantly) she agreed. Not without groaning and rolling her eyes first, though. Obviously.

Regina reached down, one hand on Y/N's shoulder as she took off her heels. Y/N smirked, feeling pretty proud of herself for getting Regina to agree. She places her heels in Y/N's hands.

"Thank you." Y/N takes off her own shoes and hands them to Regina, the two then put on the shoes. Y/N struggling more than Regina as she nearly falls over once both feet were on the ground. Instinctively, Regina caught her before she could and scoffs. Though she makes no effort to let go of her. Even going out of her way to link their arms together so she could support her girlfriend. Y/N raises an eyebrow at Regina when she does this.

"Don't even. I'm just making sure you don't embarrass us both." Regina mutters, glaring at Y/N. Though her tone didn't come out as harsh as she wanted it to. She wasn't exactly truthful in her statement. She refuses to admit the real reason, but Y/N can tell.

With Regina's help, the two get to the jeep where Karen and Gretchen are waiting for them.

~~~

feedback and requests are welcomed :)

[cherriesxinthespring]

WASTELAND, BABY!– ellie williams x reader

hi! I'm writing a new series that happens after the events of TLOU II. it's an enemies to lovers. A story about ellie eventually finding happiness and love again. She finds her light; and so do you.

Before you read the summary– please read this. Free Palestine. Do not consume tlou fanfics without educating yourself about its zionist themes.

*SUMMARY: You had decided to give life one last try. That was it. After the events in The Last of Us Part II, Ellie decides that the only way to find peace is to turn herself in to the fireflies. She finds a lead; they tell her to find you, a young woman who wanders around with no purpose. When she eventually does, you refuse to tell her where the fireflies are; if she finds them, everything that you did in your past would've been for nothing.

You embark on a journey together, walking through rain, snow and through the darkest places this cruel world has to offer. What neither of you expect, broken and traumatized, is to find the light again in each other.

LINKS: read it here. playlist.

C.W/GENERAL TAGS: enemies to lovers, AFAB reader, eventual smut, gun violence, ellie kinda kidnaps you?, suicidal ideation (both ellie and reader), r! is wounded, PTSD and trauma, triggering flashbacks. canon violence in the game, depression. Overall heavy themes, but happy ending i promise!

"For the world is Hell, and people are on the one hand the tormented souls and on other the devils in it." (Schopenhauer, On the suffering of the world)

CHAPTER 1: One last try. You encounter Ellie. She follows the trail of blood you were leaving. You refuse to give her the information she wants. So, she drags you through the entire state of Montana. "You’re bold for someone unarmed and bruised, with a gun pointed to their head"

CHAPTER 2: Courage, dear heart. A small flame inside you ignites. you finally have a purpose; to mislead her, and to escape from her. You come up with a plan, and that involves earning her trust. just enough until she becomes sloppy. But you can't let her see your skills; she might see you as a threat. That plan quickly goes to waste when you encounter a large group of clickers.

“I could kill you right now,” she said, holding your own knife against your throat. Her knuckles were white from how much force she was using. Her features were almost unrecognizable.  “Then you’d break your promise,” you said. “Promises mean nothing in this world.” 

CHAPTER 3: No one left to sing to

The rain doesn't stop, so you and this strange girl are forced to stay inside the cave. You're feverish, disoriented. After a conversation in which she mentions the fireflies, you decide to go through her journal to find answers. And you do.

"Are you a firefly?" she asked, like she had just read your mind, or you were thinking out loud. “not a firefly,” you said. you held back a laugh, but she saw the flash of a smirk. You, the reason why they were gone after Salt Lake City, a firefly. “Definitely not.” you paused.  “are you?” you asked.“No.” She analyzed your features, trying to read you.“Do you want to become one?”Her gaze drifted towards the wall behind you, and not your eyes anymore. Somewhere in you, you knew that for some reason it was a sensitive topic for her. “it’s not that– I owe them something. I have for a long time” 

CHAPTER 4– Your blinding light Summer 2033, Boston QZ You waited for Hannah to come to you. Life in the QZ was simple for you; being confined in between four walls, listening to your mom's Beatles cassettes, and sneaking out past curfew. That is, until your mom slowly starts abandoning you. "Maybe Hannah was the only one you had, after all"

CHAPTER 5– This darkness i'm condemned to

Ellie and you finally reach the nearest town. And your plan is successful; you finally lead her to danger. What you failed to account for is that this danger can harm you, too.

“took them out right?" you said, trying to test the waters. Trying to sound lighthearted, but failing completely at it.  "Damn right you did," she said.

CHAPTER 6: The injury of finally knowing

taglist: since i impulsively deleted my old account, i'm tagging my old taglist. it's still me! the bitch that wrote the abby greys anatomy AU! you can still join my taglist here

@kissesskittens @zahraaziza @uraesthete @elsvrse @lonelyfooryouonly @ximtiredx @ellabsprincess @spaceshipellie @machetegirl109 @sc0ttstre3ted @taylarxse @carmellie @mayfieldsz @brooklynvwilliams @rinarchy @elliesgffr @wannabwanted @ellabsweet @sapphic-and-sappy @imyour-favouritegirl @andersonsgirl @heyabimina @novadanversss @mulan-but-gay @lez-zuha @abbys-sweat-wife @maribelo-o @peppesgirl

if your name is crossed out, it means I can't tag you– please check your settings and follow these steps!

dividers by @saradika-graphics.

[rinhaler]

your plug!sukuna is the kind of shithead to make yuji smell his fingers after fingering you ✨

THIS IS SO GROSS PENNY HOLY FUCK IM GONNA KILL YOU 😭 like this is actually foul I might call the police HAHAH

lil drabble bc ily biiiish

warnings: 18+ MDNI, fingering mention, blood mention, cheating, NOT canon in my AITA universe jus a lil what if ig

The three of you are all sitting together while you're scrolling through your phone and they're playing some stupid online shooter together on the couch. You know you fucked up when Sukuna keeps stealing glances every chance he gets, but you do your best to focus on whatever is going on on your phone. But you know Sukuna, his stare is intense and commanding, so you can't help but look back when you know he's looking.

It's only been an hour since Yuuji was at work and Sukuna had been fingering fucking you until the air in your lungs depleted. Each plunge of his fingers had your eyes rolling back and your own fingers digging so hard into his bicep it drew blood.

And when he starts tilting his head in his little brothers direction, you know exactly what he's thinking of doing. Your begging eyes do little good. In fact it only spurs him on more. You can't bear the thought of Yuuji finding out what you did.

"Hey," Sukuna starts, bumping into his brother slightly to get his attention. Your boyfriends tongue sticks out in concentration as he focuses on shooting. But he offers a quiet, 'huh?' in response. "Smell my fingers." he laughs, wrapping an arm around Yuuji to keep him in place as he forces his thick fingers under his little siblings nose.

"Knock it off, cheater!" Yuuji yells as he tries to shake himself free from his brother's grip. The word brings a sinister smile to Sukuna's face while you feel your stomach drop into your ass.

"Smell, quick, just fucking sniff." he orders Yuuji. He pauses the game and Yuuji grabs his hand and takes a strong inhale. He pulls a face, confused, not really smelling much of anything. Though he notes it's slightly tangy.

"What's the deal?" Yuuji asks. "What am I smelling? It better not be your ass."

"No," Sukuna laughs. "Fingered a nasty little slut earlier, that's all."

Yuuji scoffs, shoving him away and going back to focus on his game. Sukuna laughs, heartily, holding his stomach. You glower at him, but you've learnt by now that what you do and say has little impact on him.

"You're not funny, my girlfriend's right there, man." he looks at you when he finishes speaking, mouthing the word 'sorry' to you, much to the amusement of his elder brother.

"Oh, Yuuji, that's embarrassing." Sukuna grins, "You don't know what your own girlfriend smells like?"

© 2023 rinhaler

[flowerandblood]

The softest whisper (Oneshot)

[ Aemond • Targaryen x servant! • female ]

[ warnings: virginity loss, oral sex, angst, smut, cheating, toxic relationship, toxic behaviour, objectification ]

[ description: Aemond, on the orders of his brother, arrives in the Red Keep and notices that a new, young girl has appeared among his servants. Wanting to fill his time, he summons her to his chamber and forces her to read to him. His time to return to Harrenhal is approaching, and he is less and less willing to part with his new property. Sexual tension, angst, very dark Aemond. ]

This oneshot have an alternative ending: The dearest embrace

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

My other works: Masterlist

____

Ever since the war began he had felt that piece by piece he was losing parts of himself; even the knowledge that Alys would bear him his child, his bastard son, didn't brought him joy or solace.

He felt both contentment and disgust at the thought of his heir from an illegitimate bed.

He thought the gods were laughing at him from the heavens, mocking his hypocrisy.

After Luke's death, there was no turning back.

He returned to King's Landing reluctantly, at his brother's request – he preferred to stay in Harrenhal, pressing Alys with his body against her bed, the brutal thrusts of his hips pushing apart her hot, slick interior, always welcoming him home.

Alys was an intelligent, witty woman, and her visions made her mysterious and disturbing in his eyes.

He was attracted to her.

There was a darkness in her as deep as his own.

His brother, however, decided that he was to attend the next meeting of the Small Council and report personally on how the battles were going, what their situation was like in the north of the kingdom.

Therefore, he arrived on Vhagar late at night and informed his servants that he wanted to take a bath.

His order meant that his other servants who were already asleep had to clothe themselves in haste and rush to him, filling his tub with hot water.

He watched their movements with a blank stare – his pupil narrowed like a cat's when he saw some new young girl, clearly just being apprenticed to her job – her gaze drowsy, struggling to listen to what the other, older woman was saying to her as the other two ran around them.

In her haste, she had forgotten to put on her white coif, her hair pinned around her head in a tight braid, short strands of her hair framing her soft, flushed face.

She did not look at him once.

He saw her the next morning too, this time already dressed appropriately – she was helping other girl to place the dishes prepared for him on silver platters.

She was completely focused on her task and paid no attention to him, so he had no fear of being caught closely observing her long eyelashes and eyebrows, her flushed cheeks and her full, fleshy lips, her pleasantly rounded chin and her softly shaped nose.

She smiled a lot even though her companion was terrified, as if she did not understand well who sat before her.

It seemed to him that she lived in a world of her own, detached from his worries.

He waited like a predator for an opportunity when she would come to him alone and it happened two evenings later.

He commanded some books to be brought to him from the library that he wanted to return to and read again. He sat in front of his fireplace in his richly decorated wooden chair and glanced out of the corner of his eye towards the door when he heard it open – his new servant holding three thick volumes in her hands walked up to the table next to him, placing them there in complete silence, then bowed, wanting to leave.

"– Your Grace –" She said softly, warmly, lightly, and turned away immediately – he heard his low voice echoing in the silence of his chamber.

"You should ask if I need anything else." He said coldly and matter-of-factly, his pointing finger tapping rhythmically against his armrest; he sat with his legs crossed, sprawled comfortably in his seat, looking at her expectantly.

She stopped in mid-step and then looked at his face for the first time – he saw terror in her gaze, but not caused by him or his appearance, but by what he had said, by the fact that she had committed a discourtesy, that she had done her job badly and her superior or he could punish her for it.

She swallowed loudly, turning to face him, folding her hands in front of her in a gesture of humility, lowering her gaze to the stone floor in front of her.

"Forgive me, Your Grace. I am just learning. Is there anything else you need?" She asked softly – she was breathing nervously, her breasts hidden beneath the thin material of her top gown rising and falling quickly, her lips clenched into a thin line.

He liked how humble and submissive she was, how much she wanted him to be pleased with her; he hummed under his breath, lifting his chin higher, curious.

He thought he would have a little fun at her expense for his own entertainment.

"Can you read?" He asked in a low, deep, slightly hoarse voice. He saw that she gave him a quick, surprised glance, but then lowered her eyes again, apparently reminding herself that she was not supposed to do that.

"Yes, Your Grace."

"Mmm. Who taught you that?"

"My father."

"The same one who sold you here?"

He saw her brow furrow in pain, her body flinch, her eyes big, she began to breathe through her mouth.

"Yes, Your Grace."

"Mmm."

There was silence between them – he stared at her, rubbing the fingers of his hand against each other, and an idea occurred to him.

He liked her voice, soft, girlish, warm, calm, light; she was very young, younger than he was. He squinted his eyelids at the thought that she appeared to him to be the complete opposite of Alys.

"I want you to read me the fourth chapter of the Great History of the North. Take the book and sit on the floor next to me." He commanded; she looked at him in shock and lowered her gaze thoughtfully, her face red with stress.

They both knew it was indecent, that she shouldn't stay so long in his chamber if she didn't want to arouse suspicion about the nature of their relationship, however, he didn't give a fuck.

He tapped his finger loudly on the armrest, impatient that she had hesitated so long.

"I'm waiting. Do you want to annoy me?" He asked coolly – she shook her head quickly, clearly horrified by this vision, and walked on her trembling legs to the table, the scent of grey soap and some other scent, her own, coming to his nostrils.

Alys always smelled of oils, lavender and cloves.

She picked up the right book and, with an uncertain slow step, sat down by the fire opposite him, sitting on her knees, opening the book on her thighs, her hands trembling as she flipped page after page looking for the chapter he had mentioned.

"Pull off your coif." He commanded; she gave him a frightened, pleading look – only now did he see how large her eyes were, surrounded by a veil of her long lashes. He thought they added to her charm and innocence.

"My superior said I must not…"

"Pull it off."

She lowered her head obediently, swallowing loudly, breathing heavily through her nose, her trembling hands raised uncertainly, pulling the white cloth off her head.

Her dark hair was tangled in a braid wrapping around her head in the same way it had been before, unruly short strands at the sides of her face.

"Read." He ordered, and she nodded, going back to finding the right page. When she found it she grunted loudly, licking her lower lip dry with stress as she tried to calm her breathing.

She didn't dare look at him, all red, her eyebrows arched in horror and helplessness – she was obviously afraid he would do something more to her.

He thought that she must surely have heard stories of what his brother did to his servants.

"It is well known that Winterfell was built not as a re...representative castle but as a fortress, s-so the construction of its walls is several layers, that is, consisting of three hoops, the last of them the thickest, composed of stones. The windows in it are not large, giving the enemy no chance to assault with their help or to be the target of cross...crossbow...crossbowmen. For this reason there is only one gate leading into the fortress, protected by several layers of thick oak wood, reinforced with iron fittings, impossible to be destroyed by infantry or armed army."

He closed his eye, spreading himself out comfortably, feeling that somehow her warm, soft voice soothed him, the strong pounding of his heart began to slow down. He listened to her, analysing what she was reading and at the same time falling asleep, the fire burning in the fireplace enveloping him making him feel safe, his muscles slowly beginning to relax.

She had read to him every day since that evening, at his request.

He would always call on her after the Small Council meeting was over, pouring himself some wine, and she would take the book from the table beside him without a word, sitting down in the same place as always. Everytime before she got down to reading she would pull off her coif and place it beside her feet, no longer even waiting for his order.

Subconsciously she knew that he derived some kind of pleasure from this essentially innocent negligee of her body.

It seemed to him that after he had let her go on the first evening without touching her or taking her by force she was no longer afraid of him – he even had the impression that the fact that she could read gave her pleasure since she had no time for it on a daily basis through her duties.

He didn't care who she was, what was her story.

He just wanted to get through time somehow before he returned to Harrenhal.

However, one evening as he sat, waiting for her, drinking wine thoughtfully, a completely different girl appeared in his chamber. He furrowed his brow, furious.

"I do not recall summoning you." He growled harshly – the girl lowered her gaze, ashamed and humiliated.

"It is the Queen's order, Your Grace, I −"

"− bring her here. Immediately."

After several minutes she stood again in his chamber – however, she did not approach him but looked towards him, trembling all over.

"Your Grace, please, I cannot −"

"Come here."

"I can't, Your Grace."

"Come here, I said."

"I can't, Your Grace, the Queen specifically ordered me to −" She paused and jumped in place, horrified when he pulled up suddenly with his eye wide open – within a moment he was in front of her, towering over her, and she lowered her gaze, terrified.

"I fucking hate to repeat myself. Do you understand?" He hissed, her breasts rising and falling in rapid, uneven breathing, tears of helplessness in her eyes – she was shaking all over playing with her fingers in a nervous gesture.

"I beg you, Your Grace, have mercy." She mumbled, falling to her knees before him, humbly lowering her head, on the verge of sobbing.

"Get up." He said coolly – she cried out loudly, burying her face in his hands. He pressed his lips together, looking down at her, her small, helpless figure curled in fear.

"Get up. You are mine. I decide your fate. Stop crying." He commanded, and she drew in a deep breath through her mouth, looking up at him with those big, terrified eyes, seeking reassurance that he would protect her, that he would not let her get hurt.

She sniffed loudly with her nose, wiping her cheeks red from crying, her face all swollen from tears, almost resembling the intense colour of her top dress; she rose with difficulty, not looking at him, standing in front of him as if waiting for a verdict, staring at his chest.

"Mmm."

He turned away, returning to his seat, taking a sip of wine, gazing into the fire – she moved behind him, repeating their ritual, sitting down by his feet, closer than usual, pulling her coif off her head, opening the book.

The next day he made it clear to his mother that she was not to interfere in the affairs of his servants ever again.

His own mother was afraid of him.

She who had always seen him as her greatest support could not look him in the eye.

He felt nothing at that thought.

The time for his return to Harrenhal was slowly approaching; when she came to him again he took a deep sip of wine before surprising her with his words spoken in a calm, deep tone.

"Get ready to travel. Tomorrow you leave with me for Harrenhal."

She looked at him in shock and swallowed loudly, shaking her head – he threw her one cool, menacing look and she curled into herself, looking at him again with those big, shining eyes.

She was so innocent.

"– Lady Rivers will murder me – please –" She mumbled pleadingly. He grinned under his breath and snorted involuntarily – she flinched all over and blushed as his hand went to her head and combed her hair as if he were stroking the fur of his beloved pet.

"Do not fret. I won't allow it."

As he flew on Vhagar, she travelled in one of the carts, like the rest of his possessions.

She was his property.

Alys greeted him with reserve; her abdomen on which she held her hand firmly rounded. He stroked it with a gesture he might call affectionate, thinking of the fact that inside her was his child.

His bastard offspring.

He saw her gaze fixed on the girl who stood far behind him, looking down at her legs.

"You let her into your heart." She said to him regretfully when they were alone in her chamber, standing over him by his chair, his hand wandering involuntarily over her pregnant stomach. He hummed at her words, amused that she was jealous, but did not reply.

He didn't need to explain himself to her.

She instead let him between her thighs, moaning and panting along with him, hurting him with her nails driven deep into his skin, between his brutal thrusts hissing that she hated him only to sob a moment later that she loved him – he came inside her hard, clenching his eyes, feeling relieved.

He stayed with her for the night, but in the morning he returned to his chamber and summoned his servant, ordering that he wished to take a bath.

She stepped into his chamber ashamed, surely having heard the sounds Alys was making during the night as he fucked her – she couldn't look him in the face.

He wondered if she imagined herself in her place and felt his cock throb hard in his breeches at the thought.

She oversaw the other servants who poured water into his tub, and then personally poured the oils he used into it.

Would she be very tight if he took her now?

Would she stifle her sweet moans if his length with each deep thrust of his hips would stretch her fleshy insides and fill her with his seed?

They were left alone.

She pretended not to see or hear him as he began to slowly undress – usually he made the servants leave before he removed his breeches, valuing his privacy and intimacy, but not this time.

She knew she couldn't leave without his permission so she stood, looking sideways, trying to pretend not to see that he was standing bare in front of her.

With a slow, unhurried walk, he stepped into the tub and sighed low, feeling the pleasant heat relaxing his muscles – he was tired after travelling for hours on Vhagar and was sore all over.

"Massage my back and shoulders." He commanded coolly, lying with his head tilted back, his eyes closed, his breathing calm.

He heard her swallow loudly, terrified that someone would catch them, knowing she shouldn't do that – he glanced at her with a look of defiance and saw in her eyes that she had given in.

She approached him from behind, with a gentle, light movement taking his hair out of her way. He murmured lowly, feeling her warm, soft fingers dig into his skin again and again, surprised at how determined she was, that she could do this properly.

Her hands were pleasant against his skin, finer than Alys, she had longer fingers – he felt her warm breath on his head, felt her watching him, felt her scent, all around them just the quiet splash of water at his every slightest movement.

He thought of how pleasant it would be to feel this small, soft hand down there, on his cock.

He was completely hard.

They both shuddered, and he felt her move away from him quickly, terrified, as the door to his chamber opened – he didn't have to turn to feel Alys' oils filling his nose.

"You may leave." She said to his servant, and he pressed his lips together at the thought that she dared to command her in his presence.

He heard her quick movement and after a moment she handed him his shirt and breeches, which he put on with an unhurried, lazy movement, not caring that the mother of his future bastard son could see how ready his cock was to fuck this little girl.

"Stay." He said lowly, standing up from the water, extending his hand to her.

"What is it?" He asked matter-of-factly, without even giving her a glance, tying his breeches, pulling his chemise into them. He saw out of the corner of his eye Alys stroking her stomach in a nervous gesture.

"I wanted to speak with you in private. About my vision." She said lowly. He glanced at his servant, at her pale, terrified face – she was trembling all over, her hands folded in front of her, her eyes full of tears.

He walked over to the chair and sat down in it, looking at her expectantly.

"You may leave." He said softly. She bowed and left with quickly, closing the door immediately behind her.

"Speak."

Alys looked down at him, her lips tightened, her green eyes piercing him.

His lady, his Alys, his insufficient lover, his attempt to fill a void that could not be filled.

"I saw danger coming from the east, great and powerful like a storm cloud. I saw you in the skies. I saw you being devoured by water." She said in a trembling voice – he furrowed his brows, analysing quickly what she had said.

I saw you being devoured by water.

She knelt before him, laying her head on his thigh, and he stroked her long black hair.

"Don't leave me." She whispered.

The word that Daemon wanted to face him, that he was challenging him to a duel spread throughout the fortress.

He knew he could not refuse.

He was terrified.

He feared death.

He locked himself in his chamber despite Alys' pleas to let her in.

If she hadn't told him all this, he wouldn't have been so frightened.

If she hadn't told him he was going to die, he might have had hope.

He summoned her in.

As soon as she walked into his chamber, he ordered her to lock the door behind her, which she did.

She stood before him, looking at him with her eyes wide open, tears under her eyelids, her body shaking all over.

Of course she knew.

He was sure she would take the gold and run away, as she should.

"Spend the night with me or leave. On the table lies a sack of coins that belongs to you. You are a free woman. Take as your husband someone you deem worthy of you."

But she stayed.

She let him undo her hair, allowed him to undress her, to brush with light, butterfly kisses her soft, long neck.

Never before in his life had he been so affectionate to anyone, his hands had never touched anyone with such reverence, never had he cared so much to do it slowly.

First he kissed her on the mouth, gently and tenderly, barely touching her lips, his fingers entwined in her soft curls – she only sighed and stroked his cheek, looking at him dreamy.

He thought that this night, the last night of his life, they would be equals, that he would take her tonight like his wife, only to make her a widow tomorrow.

"Shhh." He hushed her as his mouth clamped down on her hard, swollen nipple, sucking and licking it – she squirmed beneath him and moaned sweetly, finding the courage to stroke his hair, his bare shoulders and back, driving him mad.

He sank his face between her thighs, forcing his tongue again and again between her slick folds – she didn't care if anyone heard her, her sobs loud, helpless and full of pleasure, his nose and thumb with painfully slow, circular motions teasing her pearl, dragging out her fulfilment.

"− easy now − just a little more −" He hummed between the sticky, loud clicks of his tongue – her tiny fingers clenched in his hair, her thighs spread before his face, locked in his hands hot with exertion.

"− please − please −" She mewled helplessly, her gaze clouded, her mouth wide open.

He pulled away from her, jerking his length already dripping with his precum of with a few light strokes, guiding it's fat, pink head to her hot entrance, sticky and wet from her moisture.

She was painfully tight.

He felt like he was tearing her apart from the inside.

She was almost screaming as he thrust inside her, panting along with her, saying 'just a little more'; 't's almost in'; 'shhh, sweet girl'.

They kissed tenderly as he with sure, deep, steady pushes of his hips claimed her maidenhood – he stretched her fleshy, slick muscles with his swollen cock throbbing in pleasure, her blood and their shared moisture running down his thighs and her buttocks, slapping loudly against each other.

"− gods, help me −" She mumbled beneath him, crying in terror and pleasure at the same time, not knowing what was happening to her body, all welted and sweaty, beautiful, innocent, vulnerable, her hands clenched tightly on his buttocks.

He looked down at her, panting and moaning along with her, never having experienced anything like this with a woman before – their bodies seemed to him to be one, clinging to each other, her soft breasts pressed against his chest, he could feel her hard nipples rubbing against his skin with each of his thrusts.

He sped up his pace, forcing her body to give in, to not resist him, his forehead pressed against hers, his tongue deep in her throat.

"− such a sweet girl − hm? − my pretty little servant − makes her prince feel so fucking good − such a tight, hot cunt −" He exhaled, licking her lips, feeling how, at his words, her walls began to clench against him greedily; he heard Alys voice outside his chamber, heard her pounding on the door, heard her crying, but he only chuckled, neither of them was able to stop now.

"− let her hear how good you feel with me − I'm going to come inside you a few times, hm? − just in case, to make sure I've filled you properly −" He cooed, and she cried out loudly at his words, distraught at how strong and delightful fulfilment shook her body – she tried to push him away, her cheeks red from exertion and tears, asking him to stop, overstimulated, but he just came deep inside her at the sound of her sweet, helpless voice.

"− that's it − take it − just like that, don't fight me −" He murmured feeling her body begin to relax, no more sound or crying could be heard behind the door, only silence.

He had thrust his length into her core all night, turning her into a babbling mess – he felt like he had never been more of one with anyone, that he had never been closer to what he could call peace.

He only slid out of her in the morning, watching with satisfaction as a trickle of his pearly spend flowed out of her – he looked down at her, tying his breeches, her gaze directed towards him hazy and absent, yet tender and warm.

"Don't think about me when it's all over." He said softly, her brow arched in pain, tears of despair in her eyes.

Alys bid him farewell with a tender, distraught kiss full of pain, hatred and love.

"Run away from here as fast as you can. With me gone, no one can protect you from her wrath." He said lowly, slipping his boots on his legs and walked out, leaving her alone, informing other servants to prepare his armour for him.

In response he kissed her forehead and stroked her lower abdomen, thinking hopefully as he turned away, walking towards Vhagar to soar through the skies on her for the last time in his life, that his little servant was already far away.

_____

This oneshot have an alternative ending: The dearest embrace

_____

Aemond Taglist:

(bold means I couldn't tag you)

@its-actually-minicika @notnormalthings-blog @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess @sweethoneyblossom1 @watercolorskyy

[agusrkive]

SugarDaddy!Reiner | 🗯️🔞

cw: 18+ MDNI! (yall seen the title, dont play dumb)

summary: reiner as your sugar daddy, detailed nsfw routines

— forehead kisses

— butterfly and wet open-mouthed kisses on your neck

— nibbles on your ear

— plays with your hair

✦ asks you how’s your day while you are sat on his lap

✦ always let’s you pick the tie he’s gonna wear before going to work in the morning. it’s basically your job to do his tie and he never fails to get a hard-on every single time you do it.

✦ calls you in the middle of the day just to tell you how much he misses you and the way you feel around his cock while he’s at work.

✦ wraps his arms around you and drowns you with his kisses the moment he gets home.

"Did my little doll miss her daddy?”

loves it when you massage his temples while he grinds you up and down the tent of his bulging boxers to the point that the head of his cock slips out and meets your clothed needy cunt, your soaking panties being the only barrier between you two.

doesn’t cuddle, he prefers you seated on his lap with his cock buried deep inside you while watching your favorite tv shows or him just doing work-at-home paperworks as you try your best not to move around and squirm too much+

"behave unless you don’t plan on cumming tonight.”

★ is a menace in the sheets, but could go soft and slow when you ask him to.

★ his favorite position is you under him, but you both know that he cums faster when you ride him.

★ could go on for hours and hours, but it’s you who needs rest and sometimes passes out from overstimulation and pleasure.

🪞

˗ˏˋmirrors.. did I mention that man loves to watch himself fuck you on his bed in the big ass mirror of his room that he bought just for that reason? he needs to see your face when he’s giving you the best backshots of your life.´ˎ˗

★ missionary so you two can continue arguing about the guy from your class who keeps on lingering around you+

"he doesn’t like me! he just needed some notes and lectures that he missed because of his injuries.”

…

“oh I bet, doll. and the only injury that little shit’s gonna get is my fist in his punchable face.”

“he’s a twink!!”

“Jaëger’s lil brother is not gay.

tell him gone or I will.”

❥ loves to tease you with how needy you are+

"beg for it, doll.”

“tell me how bad you need it.”

"what was that? you want my cock?—where? c’mon use your mouth, slut.”

🎀

takes off your panties with his teeth before diving into your soaking cunt, his big arms caging around your thighs. handprints that will definitely leave marks you love to send him pictures of when he’s away.

★ loves it when you give him head as if his dick is the only left thing in the world and his cum is water in the desert (his words).

★ fucks you senselessly until you gush over and over, bed is soaked and his goal is to make you squirt; which you did three times.

★ rolls his hip into you faster when he sees your legs shaking from pleasure.

🛌

ends the night with you screaming his name and his cum painting your insides white. he fills you up soo good that seeing it leak out of your hole makes your heart ache+

fucks it back into you slowly until he cums again and doesn’t pull out for awhile, you are both crazy with the feeling of him inside you.

🛁

showers with you and you both clean each other, whispering sweet nothings in your ear as he dries your hair with a towel.

loves to rail you in his bathroom, your back against the wall as he pummels his cock in and out of your cunt. your legs hanging in the air with his arms hooked under them for support.

🌃

sleeps only with his boxers so he can easily slip his cock inside your wet cunt in the middle of the night.

🌤️

loves to wake you up in the morning with his head locked between your thighs as he eats you out for breakfast.

grabs a handful of your ass before rubbing his half-hard dick between them while you’re making breakfast.

🧺

makes out with you while doing laundry.

bends you over and pulls down your underwear only to have his fingers fuck you instead of his cock. his big fingers alone are godly enough, but you’re desperate for his cock+

“you know how it goes—“

“words, doll. need’a hear’em.”

🥘

loves to rub his hard-on behind you while you do the dishes.

🧸

makes you beg for his cock until you cry when you’re being a brat.

secretly loves it when you’re being naughty by not wearing any underwear, your naked figure being the only thing underneath his sky blue lacoste that is three times bigger than you.

📲

makes you ride his cock while you try to explain the previous lecture to Eren on the phone (that guy doesn’t just get the message)

"aah— umm yes! I sent it to Armin, ca\~l#*?¥—"

“sorry? I didn’t get that last part. Are you okay?”

“Eren! I need to g-go.. bad cramps! and phone’s uu-hh dying aa—“

**line cuts off**

“ohmygod yes! fuck me daddy!!”

[lost-in-fiction-like-ur-mom]

Established wrecker relationship with a newborn and lots of fluff and cuddles.

Bundle of Joy

Wrecker x Reader

Summary- Wrecker is scared he might hurt your newborn baby. You reassure him he won't, and that he is a good father.

A/N- Warning for descriptions of birth! Thank you for requesting! I love this prompt, Wrecker would be so careful with a tiny baby!

Word Count- 1,344

You weren't due for another week, you were supposed to be on Pabu for your delivery. With lots of midwives and doctors who had helped with past births. That just wasn't in the cards for you though.

Tech made an emergency landing on the closest inhabitable planet he could find. There was no time to get to Pabu, and it wasn't safe to jump into hyperspace while in labor.

You screamed loud, gripping the closest thing as tight as you could. Unlucky for Wrecker- it was his hand. You were insanely nervous, nothing was going according to plan. Wrecker was doing little to help, he was freaking out himself.

You took deep breaths the second your contraction was over. Wrecker swept hair out of your face and rubbed your arm, trying his best to keep you calm.

"We have landed." Tech called back, a green hue cast over the ship. Whatever planet you landed on was either abandoned or had a low population.

"I'm scared Wrecker." You breathed in again, "How am I going to have this baby on a shi-" You cut yourself off, screaming in pain as a new contraction hit.

You reached over, hitting Wrecker on the arm. "You are never touching me again, I cannot believe I married you!" You yelled at him. Pain clouded your thoughts.

"I know, I know, I'm sorry!" He worried, also frightened on what would happen. You were on an abandoned planet with no doctor!

Hunter and Omega also sat close by, getting everything you requested. Omega had refreshed a cold rag a dozen times now, and promptly placed Lula by your side.

Tech and Echo talked in the Cock-pit, you didn't know what about. Though it dulled the pain to think on what it was.

"What do you need?" Omega sweetly asks after you stop screaming.

"I need to know the plan." Inhale, exhale, "What's going to happen?"

"I do not know why everyone is freaking out. I am fully equipped to deliver a child." Tech chimes in, that must have been what they were talking about.

His words did bring you comfort, as your original plan involved Tech being there to make sure everything was going by the book.

"Get her on the floor, bring lots of pillows. We need her slightly elevated." Tech took over shortly after he made sure the ship was settled.

Hunter brought Omega outside after you started spewing insults and profanities to Wrecker. You were a completely different person when in pain.

Echo stayed on board to make sure Wrecker didn't do anything stupid, and to help Tech if needed.

About an hour later, screaming, hitting, and pushing- your baby girl was born.

"It's a girl."

You panted heavily, "Give her to me Tech, please." Tech immediately grabbed his knife and cut the front of your shirt open.

"Hey! Wha-" Wrecker was confused, only seeing Tech ripping your top off.

"Wrecker, it's so the baby can feel her skin." Echo informed, holding Wrecker back slightly.

Tech rested the child on your chest, then moved back down to cut the umbilical cord.

You gasped and gently held her to your chest. "Oh thank you Makers, thank you!" You had tears running down your face, slowly caressing your baby's cheek.

"Wrecker, come here. Some see your daughter." You waved him over, all of a sudden regretting your snide comments made earlier.

He joined your side quickly, resting his large palm on the top of your sweaty head. "She's perfect..."

He lowered his head, face only an inch from the baby's. "She looks just like you..."

You sniffled a laugh, "She looks like a potato right now, Wreck."

"No, look. She has your eyes." Just as he said that, she peaked an eye open, looking at her father for the first time.

"Sweet baby." You commented.

"Hey, i'm sorry about what I said earlier. I didn't know what I was saying." You apologized, not wanting Wrecker to think he was purposefully the cause of your pain.

"You did such a good job." He gave a loud chuckle, "I was more scared than you!"

You smiled at him.

"Have Wrecker hold the baby, you have to pass the placenta now." Tech pressed down on your stomach, moving the placenta down.

"Here, Wrecker." You slowly lifted her to him. His face dropped, he was terrified.

"It's okay, she's tiny but strong." You assured him.

"Uh, I don't know..." He breathed heavily.

Your face screwed in pain again, though not near as bad as before.

"Wrecker!"

"Okay, okay." He picked her up, as softly and carefully as a man his size could muster, He was shaking in fear he would hurt her. She was just so small.

Wrecker had a past of knocking over or accident breaking things, he was just so big. He forgot sometimes. He certainly did not forget now. He watched the child like a hawk.

It didn't take long before Tech finished helping you pass the placenta. Immediately after you were able to, Wrecker passed her back into your arms.

After a moment of silence and the four of you admiring the baby, Echo chimed in.

"Tech and I will give you some space." He guided the two of them outside of the ship, with Hunter and Omega.

"Wrecker, it's okay. She's fine." You looked up into the eyes of the man that had made you forever happy.

"What are we going to name her?" He said, effectively changing the conversation.

You huffed, but figured you could talk to him about holding her later. "What about Myla?" You asked.

"Perfect." He said, once again leaning down to get a good look at her. He held his finger out, tickling the baby's foot.

A few minutes later, you sent Wrecker to get everyone. You knew Omega would be beaming to see the baby.

"What is it, what is it! Tech wouldn't tell!" She practically bounced in, but slowed down when she came to your side.

"Meet Myla, your niece."

"She's so beautiful." She said, leaning on her arm while admiring the baby.

Wrecker smiled at the scene.

It had been an uneventful flight home, you were in overprotective mode. Even though you trusted everyone on the ship with your life, you didn't let anyone else hold Myla. She slept the whole way back.

You and Wrecker decided to settle down in your home on Pabu that was pre-prepared for this day. Many of the Pabu citizens already knew of the birth, but gave you your space.

You sat up in your bed, Myla cradled in your arms. She quickly fell asleep after being fed. Wrecker joined you, being overly careful in getting under the sheets.

"Do you want to hold her?" You asked, looking at him sit up next to you.

"Oh uh, I don't want to wake her. Probably best if you just hold her." You sighed at this. Your hormones were still wack, and you teared up at his answer.

"What's wrong, what'd I do?" He softly asked, a hand coming to your arm.

You sniffled, taking a few breathes before speaking "Why won't you hold her?"

"I don't want to hurt Myla." He said, nervous for your response.

You blinked, readjusting Myla in your arms. "Wrecker, I promise you will be okay. She is tough, just like her daddy."

He looked at her, still unsure. "Look, just take her. if anything happens i'm right here."

You raised your arms, handing her over. She 'cooed' but stayed asleep.

"See, she knows you're her dad." You rubbed your face on his arm, wrapping your arms around him. He was tense, caught up in the feeling of holding her.

"Move your arm up a little." You guided him, but it soon felt natural for him.

A deep breath left him lips. He was finally comfortable.

"Not so bad huh?"

With a swallow he answered, "The two most perfect girls in the world."

You nuzzled further into his side, trusting his hold on Myla.

"Thank you for giving me this..."

A/N- Thank you so much for reading!

Tags- (lmk if you want to be tagged as well!) @thethreeeyed-raven @dangraccoon @knight-of-flowerss

[cinnamon303444]

This is short, but I was watching Tik tok when I saw this video about the Traveler calling on Xiao when they were masterbating, and I just wanted to write a small drabble about it

NSFW below the cut 🔞

You're laying in your bed, tired but unable to sleep you try to of course! But you've been trying for the past hour to no avail. you're just too full of energy to sleep.

You think of The Concuruer of Demons, Xiao, as you now know, and how big of a crush you have on him, you'd never let him know that of course, because you weren't sure if he'd even understand if you told him.

You began touching yourself gentle touches at first, trying to tire yourself out before the climax, but as you thought more and more about him, the faster your hand began to move, your once calm movements had become frantic and unpredictable.

"Xiao!" You moaned out, forgetting the vow he had made to you when he said that if you called his name, he would be there in an instant, and he was. You had your eyes closed so you didn't notice him right away, his tense demeanor, from thinking you were hurt, melted away before it came back when he realized why you actually called his name.

He watched you for a moment. It had been a long time since he had seen someone so beautiful need him this much. He wondered if he should intervene, but you noticed him first. Covering your lower half with the thin sheet.

"Come on, you were close." He teased as he gracefully stepped onto the bedframe, almost like a weightless being as he looked down at you. "Don't get embarrassed now. After all, you were shamelessly calling my name in your moment of pleasure. Do you want me to use you? Don't you." That was the tipping point. His words sent you over the edge, and you whimpered as you came. "That's it, now how about I help you instead?"

[joemothersfavoritechild]

“across the street” pt. 2

-3k-ish words

-mike schmidt x fem!reader

-no trauma au

an: thanks for all the love on my last post!! i took some inspiration from a few joel miller fics for this one. also, referring to the ending, gotta let it marinate or sum. and if you get the orange reference, marry me.

summary: you have a late night phone call with yk who, and build furniture in the morning.

part one is here!

————————————————————————————

You plopped down in your chair, sighing while rubbing hand sanitizer over your hands. Your shift had been busy as hell, this being the first break you had all day, and it was only halfway over. You wiped your now clean hands over your eyes, trying to rub the tired soreness out of them. At least the pay is good, you thought.

Your coworker calling your name pulled you away from your thoughts.

“25 wants you again.” They said.

“Why me?” You whined.

“I don’t know, I think she prefers women.” They answered your rhetorical, giving you a sympathetic smile.

“Fuck me, I’m going to have to take my lunch after this. I’m never working another Sunday.” You said, standing up on your practically creaking legs.

This was how the rest of your afternoon went, running in all directions like a chicken with its head cut off. “23 wants an ice cream,” “25 pulled out her IV again,” “Call security on 26, he’s trying to leave.” It was an absolute shit show, you hardly had a chance to see the time on your phone, let alone check for a text that you were desperate to receive.

Your drive home was quiet, soft music playing to hopefully decompress you. It always seemed to help. You pulled into your driveway, noticing the lights on at a certain someone’s house across the street, his old Accord telling you that he was home. You turned your car off, trying to stop looking at it from your rearview.

Walking into your house wasn’t as satisfying as you’d hoped, boxes still covering the floor. You took your shoes off as you set your work bag on the ground. You looked at your bed frame again in the dark, not bothering to turn a light on. Was a day too early to expect a message? Was that considered desperate? Probably, you thought. But fuck, you were so desperate. He checked all the boxes,

cute? : check

siblings? : check

caring? : check

a little mean? : check

dorky as hell? : check

abandonment issues? : probably check!

You forced yourself to pull your eyes off the box. As the saying goes, a watched fish doesn’t get caught.

That’s not right, you think. Your tired brain can’t decipher what you were trying to go for, but you knew it would’ve worked.

Anyways, constantly thinking about someone texting you doesn’t help anything. You plugged your phone into the charger near the couch, purposefully ignoring staring at it for too long.

Your eyes fell back to the boxes surrounding you. You passed them all, going straight to your bathroom to shower.

The shower was the right call, you decided. Scorching water loosened your muscles and kept your mind in the present. Washing the outside world off your skin was the highlight of your day.

You got out of the shower, eventually. The warm water didn’t last as long as you had hoped, though it did try. Your nearly hour-long shower would overwhelm any water heater on the market. You quickly dried yourself off, taking the time to brush your teeth and apply your skincare before wrapping your towel around yourself and stepping into your bedroom. You threw on some pajamas from your suitcase that moved with you; pajama pants and an old shirt.

You balled up your work clothes into your towel and put them all in the laundry basket in the corner of your room, already beginning to overflow. You reminded yourself to start the laundry sometime tomorrow as you walked back to your temporary bed, the large green couch in your living room.

You pulled back the covers on the couch, piling into it. You had completely decked it out; two blankets, a comforter, two pillows (one for your head, one for between your legs), and the fan dialed up. You closed your eyes, listening to the white noise of the fan above you.

You were interrupted by the shrill noise of your phone ringing behind you. You groaned, folding your blankets over so you could get off the couch and walk to the charger. You ripped your phone off the charger, taking it with you as you laid back into your bed. You re-adjusted your blankets before pulling the phone under your ear and swiping to accept the call.

“Hello?” You said groggily.

“Hey.” A voice responded. It took you a moment, but eventually, you recognized it. You were suddenly awake with nervousness.

“Hey, Mike.”

“Hi. Um, I texted you,” He said, sounding more like a question than a comment. “A few times, not a big deal. I just wanted to make sure you were alive.” He joked.

You paused, trying to quickly check your messages.

“You there?” He asked.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m here. Sorry, I’ve been working all day. It was super busy, so I didn’t have time to check my phone, and when I got home all I was thinking about was sleep.” You described.

“No need to be sorry, I just wanted to make sure you were okay. You’re okay?”

“I’m okay.” You responded.

“Good, good,” He pauses. “So, um, how was your day?”

“Pretty shitty.” You summarize, hearing him laugh in the background.

“Tell me about it.”

So, you did. You proceeded to tell him all the gritty details about your job. What your coworkers are like, the patients that you had to deal with, the frequent fliers, all of it. He asked a lot of questions, making you feel more comfortable rambling on to him.

“What’d you have for lunch?” He asked.

“I had leftover wingstop, I barely have any food at the house.”

“What’s your order?”

“Eight-piece boneless, classic hot. With fries, ranch, and a huge coke. It was amazing,” You said, practically salivating remembering it. “What about you and Abs?” You asked.

“It was very fancy, I don’t know if you’re prepared to hear me talk about it, you might be jealous,” He said sarcastically. “I made cheese quesadillas.”

You laughed a little too long at that, surprised. He was funny, another check.

You talked on the phone for a while, so long that you were talking about the most boring stuff. Like how Abby was a picky eater, and it annoyed Mike because all he wanted to do was eat a good burger now and again. It was sickly sweet and felt like being a teenager again. Whispering as to not wake your parents up, hoping that they wouldn’t catch you up past your bedtime.

You’re not sure when it happened, but you fell asleep on the phone. Mike was talking about something, maybe about the tv show he had been watching. You’re not exactly positive, but you know that you passed out cold.

Your eyes fluttered open, the phone still pressed up against your cheek, warm from the contact. You blinked rapidly, trying to keep your dream in your mind. You had to think hard, as it was delicate. If you let it go, you’d never remember what it was.

It was a good dream, as most of yours tended to be. You didn’t remember a lot, only pieces of it. But you knew Mike was there. You knew that he had led you to your bed, pulling you under the covers with him. You talked, cuddling close to him. God, it had felt so real. You could practically see the lines under his eyes and the pores on his nose. You smiled, but this felt a little creepy at this point. Borderline delusional, your mind added. You barely knew him and you were already dreaming about him.

You grabbed the phone from under your face, groaning as it got unstuck from your skin. Thankfully, it wasn’t dead. You unlocked it, taking the opportunity to look at the texts that you had gotten the night before.

Yesterday, 12:36 pm: hey, this is mike. i’ll need you on the weekends from 8 am-4 pm. and idc that you said not to pay you, i’m building your bed too.

Yesterday, 2:49 pm: you okay?

Yesterday, 5:03 pm: not to be creepy, but i think i’m going to call you. you’re worrying me a little lol

Today, 1:45 am: i think you fell asleep, i’ll talk to you in the morning :)

You smiled, making a contact for him. “mike <3” was now typing. Three little dots popped up on your screen and you quickly swiped out in nervousness. You opened it again when you got a notification.

Today, 10:23 am: i dropped abby off for school and slept in a little, is it okay if i come over to build that bed frame for you?

You smiled again, quickly replying to make up for last night.

Today, 10:24 am: yeah, ofc. give me a few minutes to wake up lol, i need to brush my teeth and clean up for a second.

He replied immediately.

Today, 10:24 am: lmk when you’re ready

You willed yourself to stop smiling, god it had been too long. You hardly knew how to act with a potential date.

“Oh, god.” You muttered to yourself, realizing you had to talk to him. Why did you have to talk to a man to get a boyfriend? Why couldn’t it just happen telepathically?

You sighed, rolling off the couch. You plugged your phone back into the charger, making your way to the bathroom. You completed your morning routine and ran to your bedroom to pick something out to wear for the day. You decided to go for casual, grey sweatpants and a green hoodie. Didn’t want to seem too desperate. You pulled your socks up your feet, laughing at yourself.

You grabbed a quick breakfast from your kitchen, consisting of leftover cookies and a slice of cold pizza. You tried your best to tidy your place up, moving boxes to the corner of the living room. Running down the hallway to your bedroom with your boxed bed frame in hand, you placed it on the floor, taking the other boxes and moving them to the hallway. You scrubbed your toilet and sink, turning on the air fresheners you had placed around the house.

You washed your hands, drying them before returning to the living room. You texted Mike, letting him know that you were ready. He liked the text message, and in less than two minutes he was knocking on your door.

You eyed the door at the noise. Jesus, he was not playing around. You took another deep breath, opening the door to see him standing there with a small smile. He went for casual too, you noted. He wore a black t-shirt and a pair of grey sweats. He held a bag, which you assumed was full of tools.

You smiled at him as a greeting and opened the door wider to allow him to walk into your house.

“Hey.” He said as you walked past you.

“Hi, thanks for coming so quickly.” You responded. “You didn’t have to, the payment feels premature.” You joked, shutting the front door. He looked a you for a second while taking his shoes off at the entryway.

“Shut up, you can’t sleep on the couch for a week”

“I totally can.” You bite back.

“You won’t, where’s your bedroom?” He finished, looking at you again.

You were shocked into silence, feeling your cheeks warm up. The comment made your head spin. Fuck, could he tell that you liked that?

You said nothing, ignoring his little smirk as you walked him to your bedroom. He followed behind you, dropping the bag on the floor with a small thump.

“Do you need any help or something?” You asked finally, breaking the tense silence.

“No, I’m good. I’ve done a lot of stuff like this,” He answered, shrugging. “You could put on some background music?” He suggested.

“That, I can do.”

You nodded, pulling your phone out of your pocket. You hesitated, before choosing a slower playlist of yours. Something calm, that you didn’t have to focus on. He nodded in enjoyment, then began to open the box that held your bed frame. He spilled the contents onto the floor, then kneeled on the ground. He started pulling stuff out of his bag. You guessed correctly, it was full of tools.

You just watched, sitting down against the wall of your room. It was attractive, him expertly putting your bed frame together. He was good with his hands, you wondered what else he was good at. He looked at you after a moment.

“You just gonna watch?”

“If that’s okay.” You shrugged, he nodded at your sort of question. He tried to hide his smile.

He was going to town, drilling, piecing parts together, all while completely ignoring the instructions. He didn’t need them.

After a while, you could tell he was getting hot. His black shirt was sticking to his skin. You hated to admit that it did something to you. You felt a warmth settle in your stomach and tried your best to will it away. Your eyes settled on his back, looking up to his neck when he turned towards you.

“Why’re looking at me like that?” He asked, eyes narrowed out of curiosity.

You made eye contact with him like a deer in headlights. Smiling at you, he laughed a little. Your words were stuck in your throat, embarrassed about being caught.

“Um, do you want some water?” You settled on.

“Sure.” He answered, chuckling at your suddenly shy demeanor.

You stood up off the floor and walked out of your room, closing the door behind you. What the fuck was that? You scolded yourself, internally. Now he was going to think that you were a horny weirdo. I mean, you were, but he didn’t need to know that yet.

You shook your head at yourself as you poured him a glass. This was ridiculous, you needed to chill out.

You came back into the bedroom and handed him the glass. He took it from you gratefully, fingers brushing over yours as he grabbed it. Telling you a small “thank you,” he brought the glass to his lips and began to drink greedily. You watched him as he downed the glass, some dripping down his chin.

When he was finished, he wiped a hand over his stubble. He looked over to you, a smile pulling at the corners of his lips. He held the glass out to you and you took it, quickly walking out of the room.

You placed the glass in the sink, blinking to try and bring yourself back to life. How did someone make drinking water look so good? How was that even possible? And god, the look he gave you.

You needed to get it together before you blew it. Talk to him, say something, anything other than just fucking staring at him.

You walked back into the room with a mission, you were going to talk to him. Taking your spot on the floor, you cleared your throat.

“So, what’s your favorite food?” You decided on.

He barely paused before answering, “Definitely pasta, like a good chicken alfredo.”

“Shit, that’s a good answer. I’m really into sushi right now. Can’t afford it, but into it.” You said, smiling at his willingness to answer.

The stupid questions continued for a few minutes. The two of you got to know the smallest details of your likes and dislikes. Turns out, Mike can’t stand the color yellow but loves orange. He’s not much of a drinker, mainly because he can’t afford it, but he does occasionally smoke weed. He’s a cat person but would get a dog if Abby asked for one. It killed you when he talked about his sister because it was so obvious how much he loved her.

Eventually, he finished your bed frame. The gentleman that he is forced him to carry your mattress in from the laundry room, helping you set that up too. Mike may have been on the shorter side, but he was strong as hell. The two of you put on your sheets, blankets, pillows, and finally your comforter. It was almost too domestic, too real.

When you were finished, you didn’t want him to leave. You think he felt the same. This was confirmed when he saw the tv sitting in your closet.

“Do you want me to mount that for you?” He asked.

I want you to mount me, you fought against saying.

“That would be great.” You agreed.

Mike probably spent three hours helping you put your bedroom together, setting up shelves, arranging your cabinets, and helping you put your pictures and posters up while you talked his ear off.

Even though you told him a million times that he didn’t need to, he hung your clothes up in your closet while you folded the rest to go in your new dresser. Finally, your room was fully decorated and unpacked.

He rubbed his hands together, settling on the end of your bed. You sat next to him.

“Thank you, seriously. I was dreading doing all of that by myself.”

“Don’t worry about it.” He said.

You both looked at each other for a second too long, the tension between the two of you becoming thick. You took breaks from looking at his eyes by moving down to his lips. You took a deep breath, noticing him moving closer to you.

He hesitated, pushing a stray hair behind your ear instead. His hand lingered on your face, eventually moving down your arm to put your hand in his. He interlocked your fingers together, pulling it close to him and pressing a soft kiss on your knuckles. He held you there, hand resting on his chin. This was almost more intimate than a kiss, you thought.

“Do you not-” You started, getting interrupted.

“I want to, believe me.”

You looked at him, willing him to continue.

“I don’t want you to think that’s all this is.” He explained, you nodded. You know that this was him being respectful, but it made you want to tear his clothes off even more. Forbidden fruit, if you will.

“Let me take you on a date, tomorrow on my lunch break. I know a place you’d like.” He continued.

“Okay.” You said, smiling.

————————————————————————————

**i do not give anyone permission to use my work as your own, respectfully

this belongs to @joemothersfavoritechild **

[bleedingredridinghood]

Katsuki "The only person tougher than me is my girlfriend because she drinks orange juice after brushing her teeth and doesn't even CARE" Bakugou

[rougecreator1]

NorthShore Nowheres // part 1

|| Poly!plastics x fem!reader (bit of Cady x fem!reader) (btw I myself am poly)

|| Warnings: loosely follows the movie musical, with reader being Aaron (slight dialogue changes to fit Y/N), light swearing

|| Summary: you're the leader of the NorthShore Nowheres biker gang/clique. The plastics take an interest in you, but so has Cady...

Requested by Anon!

Requests open!

~~~

The sound of your motorcycle filled the parking lot as you zipped through and parked in your usual spot, taking your helmet off and twisting your head slightly in a way that fixed your hair. For the plastics, who had been watching you from the side steps of the school, time seemed to play in slow motion. Watching as you flick your hair and get off your bike. Your walk radiating pure confidence. The girls shared a look with one another.

"We're all in agreement?" Regina asked her girlfriends, who nodded and looked back at you. Watching as you walked past them, heading up the steps and giving the school's polycue a wink.

~~~

You sat in AP Calculus. Not listening to a word Ms Norbury was saying as she stood at the front, hands on her hips and looking out at the rows of students. You simply folded a paper airplane and tossed it at some random kid next to you, making another stifle a laugh as you smirked. The student swatted the paper plane away.

"Y/N L/N." Ms Norbury gave you that signature warning look, which made you roll your eyes and she continued on with her lecture," Chapter one! Limits and their properties. What the heck are limits, you say? If I write out the equation..."

You started zoning out, hand on your chin and elbow on your desk as you stared at the board blankly.

"The limit equals 3." A voice from behind you spoke up, pulling you from your day dreams.

"That's right." Ms Norbury said, sounding surprised. " Let's try another one. Find the value for K for which the following limit exists."

"K equals -3." The girl says again.

"Damn, girl!" Some mathlete kid piped up.

You looked behind at the girl and smirked," Wow. Are you trying to make the rest of us look like dumbasses?"

"No- I'm- I'm not- trying to it's just sort of happening..." She replied, stuttering as she stared at you. Adorable. You laughed.

"Oh? Is that how it is? Okay. Well..." You leaned a little closer," challenge accepted."

You turned around, looking down at your paper with a sigh. The new girl on your mind. Reaching into your bag, you pulled out your pen then gently trailed your hand through your hair as you began working on your paper. Why did you sign up for AP Cal? This class was going to kill you.

Behind you, you heard something fall to the ground and looked to see Cady's pen. You bent down and picked it up, handing it to her with a smile before looking at the board again. You could have sworn you heard music coming from somewhere...

~~~

After school, you were outside with some of your biker gang. Just chatting and hanging out as you fidgeted with your phone. You happened to notice Cady watching you and gave her a small wave. Then turned your attention towards your gang again; when Cady almost got hit by the bus, your eyes widening slightly. You debated going to check on her. But she said that she was okay. Which made you sigh with relief from where you stood a bit away.

~~~

The following day, you and your gang sat at your usual lunchtable. Rough housing with each other, laughing and spreading gossip as you usually do. You glanced over at the plastics table, watching as Regina got up and walked away.

Karen and Gretchen were talking with Cady. "So, have you seen any guys you think are cute yet?" Karen asked.

"Oh, um- not a guy- but well actually there's this girl in my Calculus class." Cady responded.

"Ohhh, a senior! Who is it?" Gretchen replied.

"Ah, Y/N L/N." Cady replied, Karen and Gretchen shared a panicked look.

"You can't like Y/N L/N!" Gretchen said quickly.

"No, no bad, danger." The danger Karen said was loud enough to get your attention, you glanced at them in confusion then rolled your eyes and focused on your group again. Getting shoved by one of your friends who you playfully shoved back and smirked at.

"We're after her so you can't have her." Gretchen states, looking over at you and your gang's table," Crushes are off limits for friends that's just like the rules of feminism."

One of your friends in your gang wrapped an arm around you and started filming a TikTok. Instinctively you winked at the camera then laughed slightly and looked at your friend, who's name was Julia. But no one called her that, pretty much everyone referred to her as Jules. "Jules, girlie. What weird trend are you hoping on now?" You asked with your usual charming smile. Two things you had a reputation for. Being a bad girl. And then your charm, even if you weren't overly popular people still loved you. You just weren't Apex Predator worthy. Possibly like whatever was a few chains down from that, though.

"That one silent review trend. Featuring you." Jules pointed at you and you couldn't help but laugh.

"Definitely tag me in that." She nodded and you gave her shoulder a gentle pat.

~~~

At the end of the day, you and your gang hanged out at your usual bench. With you sprawled out across it and Jules laying across you. You guys were close friends, though there were rumours you were a thing. One of your friends made a joke and you laughed, though it was cut short as the plastics walked over. Regina with her arms folded, Gretchen and Karen following behind.

Regina's intimidation was enough to scare Jules off you (and the rest of your gang). They excused themselves as you sat up, watching the three in confusion. Once again you swore you heard music... with faint jungle sounds?

"Something I can do for you?" You folded your arms, a little annoyed Regina scared off your friends.

"You. Us." Regina gestures to herself, Gretchen and Karen," Date to the movies Friday night. Wear something nice." She looks you up and down, you glance at your baggy jeans and leather jacket before looking at Regina again.

"Is this you inviting me into your polycue?" If you're being honest, you have wanted them for a while. You just didn't want to risk making a fool of yourself. Regina's gaze tells you everything you need to know, so you nod." Alright. Friday night."

Regina smiles and walks over, kissing your cheek before looking towards Cady who had been watching. She beckons Cady over and then walks away from you. Gretchen and Karen linking arms as they giggle, Gretchen sending you a wink. Your face flushes and you look away, making a mental note to be extra careful. The last thing you wanted to do was piss off all three.

~~~

Feedback is welcomed! Probably going to make this a 3 part story (maybe longer depending), each part being about a half an hour chunk of the movie with extra bits added in between. Just so this doesn't become overly long, yk?

[mrsjellymunson]

KNOCK AT THE CABIN | Prologue

Written for @bettyfrommars, @allthingsjoeq and @somnambulic-thing’s Stranger Prompts, Prompt 1. He shows up at your house covered in mud in the rain, but the problem is, he died two months ago.

Series Summary: After the events of the previous months, everyone is shocked by the unexpected return of an old friend. But is it really him?

Chapter Summary: On a stormy night, an unexpected visitor arrives.

WC: 1.14k

Series C/W: 🔞 18+, MDNI, NSFW. I mean it, if you’re under 18, git! Post-S4, Upside Down exists, dark/supernatural themes. Eventual Eddie Munson x fem!reader smut. Swearing. Not much to caution about in this part, unless you don’t like rain, or bad decor.

A/N: This series contains a lot of things I haven’t written for before, so I’d love to know what you think! Please comment and reblog, it means the world to writers, and reblogs mean work gets seen. This series has a taglist so if you’d like to be on either it, or my general list, lemme know in a comment, ask or message 🙏💗

You’re holed up in an old farmhouse on the outskirts of Hawkins. It’s not exactly remote, but the nearest building is little more than a speck on the horizon so you feel pretty isolated. Owens organised it, explaining it would be a good idea for the older members of the party to lay low for a little while. Nancy had put forward an excellent argument for remaining with her family, but you, Robin and Steve had reluctantly packed up some of your belongings and relocated here. For how long, you don’t know.

It’s no palace. The wood-built building is certainly past its best, the yellowing 50s kitchen barely functional and the faded decor not to anyone's taste. But it’s (mostly) warm, (usually) dry, and most importantly, it feels safe. Which is something you all need after the events of the past few months.

You’re all acutely aware of the obvious gap in your merry band. Owens had insisted that the three of you didn’t attend the funeral, but he’d involved you as much as he could, ferrying messages between you and the kids and Wayne, discussing what he would’ve wanted to wear (you all agreed on his spare Hellfire shirt and leather jacket, knowing he’d never want to be separated from either, plus a brand new, government-funded pair of black 501s), and sneaking mementoes to you with Wayne’s approval.

Mike and Will have taken charge of his D&D paraphernalia, Dustin got his wallet chain (and wears it with literally everything, even his Weird Al shirts and colourful shorts), and Lucas opted for a small pocket knife. You, Steve and Robin each have one of his rings. Steve and Robin keep theirs in their rooms, but you wear the silver skull every day. It’s too big for your fingers, and is even a little loose on your thumb, but that’s where you keep it, spinning it to ease your anxiety, and smoothing the pads of your fingers over its bumpy surface to remind you of the friend you’ve lost. Rueing the fact that you always wanted him to be more than that, but never had the chance to find out whether he felt the same.

The kids visit periodically, even staying over sometimes, nobody expecting anyone to be watching the comings and goings of a bunch of nerdy teens. Nancy drops them off, sometimes staying, sometimes not. On this occasion she’d dropped and run, explaining that she was going to visit Max in the hospital tomorrow, spending some quality girly time with her. Lucas, who usually spent every spare moment by her bedside, was going to spend the weekend here, after Max, still seriously ill but now well enough to communicate, insisted that he needed to spend at least a bit of time with his old friends.

Tonight, you’d had a movie marathon, Keith developing an uncharacteristically generous side since everything kicked off and periodically dropping off and collecting piles of VHS tapes. Not quite generous enough to bring you any brand new releases, but even things you’ve seen before are better than the ‘sweet FA’ you’d have available given the nonexistent TV reception around here.

Popcorn litters the floor and the saggy furniture, as do gangly boys and a long-haired girl. Jane has commandeered the sole armchair, sitting in it cross-legged, and you, Steve and Robin are squashed onto the sofa with an equally squashed Dustin, the latter insisting that there was definitely room for one more.

Mike and Will are on the floor between the sofa and the old, battered coffee table. Mike’s hunched over a bowl of chips that he’s shovelling in, and Will is leaning against your legs, you stroking his hair in a way you know he finds comforting. Lucas is lounging on the floor at the side of the table, his long body stretched out and his head supported on threadbare throw pillows.

The gentle patter of drizzly rain against the windows and roof, and the crackle of the open fire, one of your only sources of heating, gives the evening a cosy feel, though you hope the rain doesn’t get any heavier as you don’t entirely trust the roof over the rear extension to cope with much more meteorological abuse.

You’ve just finished Raiders Of the Lost Ark and Steve has got up to swap it out for The Stuff, when there’s a strong gust of wind and the rainfall picks up significantly. Great, you think, the weather gods definitely weren’t listening to your silent pleas.

None of you notice Jane stiffening in her seat and shifting uncomfortably.

Under the lashing of the wind and rain there’s a sudden noise at the front door. Not urgent, not loud, just two soft thuds. If the kids had been roughhousing or the film had been on you may even have missed them.

You all look at each other, instantly and equally on edge, and all hoping that somebody, anybody, will provide a simple explanation for this.

Steve’s the first to speak. Jaw slack and brow furrowed, he asks the room, “Uhh, did anyone order takeout?”

There’s a cacophony of ‘no’s’ and shaken heads, before another soft thud is heard, just one this time.

Steve steels himself, not for the first time realising that it’s his responsibility to investigate the possibly terrifying, and potentially life-threatening, situation. He stands from his position by the video player and moves towards the door, fingertips skimming the top of the bat that’s always to the side of it, before closing his hand softly around the handle.

He pulls back the sliding bolts before twisting the lock and pulling the door open just a crack, leaving the chain on. The noise of the weather increases in volume, but other than that there’s no indication of what’s on the other side.

Steve has his back to you so you don’t see his eyes go wide, but you do hear a soft, “Wh- What the fuck?”

Robin being Robin, and perpetually thinking about her stomach, she says,

“What is it, doofus? Pleeease tell me it’s Jonathon and Argyle dropping by from Cali with some delicious Surfer Boy pizza??”

“Uh, no, it’s, uh- You know what? Maybe you should just come and see for yourself. Wait, scratch that, just the adults.”

Knowing this will unwittingly pique the interest of the kids more than if he’d just allowed everyone to come look, you and Robin glance at each other before quickly rising and moving to the door.

Steve closes it and takes off the chain, opening it wide as the three of you arrive, the kids following close behind and trying to look between you.

There, hunched, shivering, soaking wet and covered in mud, is your friend. The one who’d died saving the town. The one they’d buried only a few days ago, after he’d been lying on a slab in a lab somewhere for weeks.

Eddie.

Thanks so much for reading! I really hope you enjoyed this. Lemme know if you’d like to be tagged in future parts.

Extra tags: @jamdoughnutmagician @joejoequinnquinn