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kissohee · 5 months

Note

We had first time with virgen!anton...

Can we have a little shot of their first time having that heating makeout session?? Pls.

virgin!anton x virgin!fem!reader ☆ nsfw ; wc : 992 ☆ one-shot mdni! warnings; anton gets a boner, male masturbation, quite literally uses the same dialogue from the full fic, written in antons pov read full fic here! a/n; sure! i kind of loved writing that small part too sooo ^^

There was nothing Anton loved more than to kiss you. He was sure it was because he was just so in love with you. And although the kisses were very short and sweet, they meant the world to him.

So of course when you're kissing him longer than usual, he swears he could fly. Every time you pull away to get ahold of your breath, he's pulling you back in for more. It was like there were magnets inside your lips that he just couldn't stop attracting to. He knew the kiss got more suggestive when you moved to sit on his lap without pulling apart, your hands moving to play with the hair at the nape of his neck. Your tongue desperate in his mouth, mixing your spit together. His fingers slightly grazing your breasts, but not daring to touch them in case it wasn't what you wanted. He remembers someone mentioning to him about hickies once, and he absolutely loved the idea of his marks on you. So he slowly broke your kiss, leaving pecks down your jaw and onto your neck. You gripped his shoulders as he explored your skin, sucking on spots in hopes to leave a bruise, but not hard enough to hurt you in any way. It wasn't until he felt your grip harden when his lips touched a certain spot, where he softly took the skin between his teeth. The sound that came out of you so melodic to his ears. He needed to hear more of you. His lips traveled down to your chest, focusing on mainly your collarbones. When you said his name, he thought he had gone to far. It wasn't a moan, but more of you genuinely trying to get his attention. He stopped to look at you, your eyes however traveled down to his crotch. Scared to glance at it too, he finally felt it. His cock throbbed against the sweats he was wearing. Fuck. Without thinking, he removed you from his lap, placing his hands on top so you couldn't look anymore. "Oh my god.." Your eyes never leaving the bulge, Anton swears he's gonna faint. "I'm so sorry.." His voice decreasing to a whisper. "Why are you sorry?" Your attempt to not laugh went unnoticed by him, his focus everywhere else. His cheeks flushed "I don't know... It's.." He found himself having trouble forming sentences, "That's so gross of me, I don't know why it.." He was already hooking his legs off your bed, reading to get up and leave. But he felt your arms wrap around him in an attempt to comfort him, "You're a male human," You rest your head on his shoulder, "I don't think it's gross... It happens." That did not comfort him. There were many times in Anton's life where he felt embarrassment, but this one was by far the worst. Neither of you moved, he couldn't move. He felt frozen. He tried making himself feel better by reminding himself that you love him, and you've already expressed that you aren't disgusted. But still, your words don't take him back in time to avoid the situation. Despite the fact that he physically couldn't move, he felt his cock twitch. He should leave and go home, but then that means he'd have to go out in public like this. His desired solution would just be to die. But then at his funeral someone would have to bring up that he 'Died from embarrassment after popping a boner under his girlfriend.' Anton swears he was fighting demons in his head until he decided to just suck it up and jerk one off. "The.. Your.. Bathroom.." He stumbles over his words before leaving your room and heading to your bathroom in a hurry. If he's quick, he could just pretend he really needed to shit.

Leaning against a bare wall, he lowered all articles of clothing between him and his cock, his hand softly tugging on it while he bit on his index finger on his other hand. The feeling of his hand wrapped around his cock had him biting down slightly harder on his finger. His mind wandered back to the situation, to you. How much better you would feel than his hand right now. He tightened his hand to mimic your hand, which was much smaller than his. Was he a terrible person for imagining you, despite the fact that you were dating him? He wasn't sure, and he sure didn't care enough to stop and think. "Anton?" Fuck. "Are you okay?" Fuck fuck fuck. "On-one second!" He heard your footsteps walk back to what he assumed was your room after you acknowledged it. He was too busy to bother with his finger again, so he let quiet moans slip from his mouth. He didn't think they were loud enough for you to hear, especially considering your room wasn't too close to the bathroom. He's never felt so much sensation from his had before, which just drew even more moans from him. He was so close, he could feel it. His head couldn't catch up with his cock, as his cum covered his hand, hips twitching while it was released. He took his lip between his teeth so he could contain any louder moans than he ones he had already let out. When the bathroom finally stopped spinning, he cleaned himself up with urgency. How long has he been in here? He wasn't sure, but what he does know is that it was much longer than he had hoped. He quickly washed his hands, praying to avoid any awkwardness when he opened the door. He found you sitting on your bed, chewing on the sides of your cheeks as your eyes traveled everywhere but on him. "Walls are thin 'Ton..." This was the most humiliating thing that has ever happened to him. There was absolutely no way Anton could ever face you ever again.

this was small and not really detailed but still 😭 - 🐠

#𐙚 anonies #riize smut #anton smut #anton x reader #riize x reader #𐙚 riize talk

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literaila · 11 months

Text

untrustworthy

tasm!peter x reader

summary:

"are you mad at me?"

"did you get me bologna sandwiches?"

warnings: angst, alludes to depression, lost of interest, pushing people away, this is a pining fic because they’re not actually together, angst, fluff at the end, peter sucks but he’s also great?

a/n: i haven’t written anything in weeks and this is so terrible but take it or leave it. i am.

if you've learned anything in the past year, it's that you couldn't trust peter parker.

you couldn't trust him to finish his portion of your shared slideshow for your physics class. and you shouldn't have trusted him to tell you if he couldn't get it done before the due date--sparing you both from the wide-eyed, slightly over-amused gazes of classmates who thought peter's "the end" slide was purely a comedic stroke, and not just laziness, or a miserable attempt to pretend he hadn't cost you thirty percent of your grade.

and even after, you couldn't trust him not to give you a look--his signature look--sending you plummeting towards forgiveness before he'd even gotten the chance to apologize.

you couldn't trust peter parker to pick up a mutual friend's birthday cake or get himself home safely without cracking his glasses, or not to eat all of the cookies that may made for you on his way to your apartment. you wouldn't trust him to wash your dishes or sleep on your couch without burning the entire building down.

it was a dangerous thing, you'd realized, about three months after you'd met him, to try and count on him.

peter parker would borrow a pen from you, flicking his hair your way and smiling that charming smile, and then proceed to give it back to you at your thirty-year reunion. or never.

you'd learned not to expect him to show up for anything on time, ask him to pick anything up for you, or let him do laundry in your apartment.

peter parker was anything but dependable. and if you could give the past version of yourself any advice, it would be not to trust him.

not to let that foolish hope exist before it was crumbled between strong hands like a grocery receipt, never to be seen again.

you wouldn't let that faded, reliable version of peter exist.

you couldn't trust peter parker to do anything or make any promise he would actually keep.

you couldn't even trust him to stay away from you when you wanted space the most; like now.

because as soon as you heard that knock on your door, a bitter part of you was scowling at the intrusion, cursing your friend for bothering to exist or always showing up when you didn't want him to.

and you knew that just like every other thing peter did, he wouldn't take no for an answer. even if you didn't answer the door. even if you threw your phone down into the garbage disposal.

you were pretty sure peter could pick a lock. and also slightly suspicious that he'd had a copy of your key made behind your back.

so when peter walks into your living room, hair dripping from the rain, arms full of grocery bags, you aren't surprised.

you barely even blink at him before returning your attention to your tv, where a couple was viciously debating the cost of crown molding.

his presence is its own curse because you can feel every movement he makes, just like always.

"hey," peter says, smiling evilly. he ignores your ignoring. doesn't even mind the fact that you haven't looked at him. "i brought you some stuff."

he kicks his shoes off--into your living room, of course, mud sticking to your carpet--and heads to the kitchen.

"just some basics," he continues, not bothering to listen to any reply, verbal or not. "bread, eggs, milk. i got you some disgusting orange jello and a couple of those pre-made sandwiches they make at the deli. they're a bit... flat, but they should be okay still."

you turn the volume up.

peter doesn't mind. "there's also some protein bars in there--chocolate--just in case you want something quick," he walks back into the room, holding a glass bottle. "and i saw this banana-flavored soda when i was walking out, for us to try and throw up together."

he shakes the bottle around, smile on his idiotic face, not even bothering to think about the harsh reality of carbonation.

"open that over the sink," you mumble to him, still not meeting his eyes.

you curse your weak willpower for ruining your silent game. and peter, for knowing that he would win eventually.

peter tilts his head, tsking at you. "not even a thank you for your very thoughtful, handsome--" he plops down next to you, moving your legs so that he can tickle your feet. "and genius best friend?"

"thanks, peter."

instead of looking over at the man who was definitely trying to get you to yell at him, you choose to watch the ceiling on the tv crumble over brand-new hardwood.

you frown.

peter runs his hand up your calf, goosebumps riding his wake. "are you mad at me?"

"did you get me bologna sandwiches?"

"no, turkey."

"then no."

peter removes his hand. "what's wrong with the bologna?"

"they put rat poison in it."

peter pokes your thigh. "and you've been letting me eat it? you know i love those sandwiches."

you turn even further on your side, wall going up between the two of you, forcing his hand off, mumbling, "wanted to test a theory."

"what theory?"

finally, your eyes meet his--stupid brown, caring, auburn, and hateful eyes. "if rat poison would kill you or not."

peter scoffs.

you let your lip quirk up, irritated at his perfect mouth and thoughtful grocery list, and warm hands climbing up your stomach, and then look away. back to the house infested with termites. if there's anything to hate, it's adoration. the ridiculous attachment you have to him, even now.

"are you calling me a vermin?"

you roll your eyes. "well, you're not dead so..."

and it was all normal. peter sitting this close and trying to mold himself into your skin, the puppy eyes he was trying to give you, and his devious smirk. his teasing and lack of common sense, his stupid jokes, and stupid thoughtfulness, ruining the silent treatment you'd meant to give him. the space you'd been forcing between the two of you.

it was all normal, but you can feel him lurking, waiting for a moment to say something. you can feel him staring at you.

"what?" you say, sharp and rough, after thirty seconds of it being too much. of peter being too close and too quiet.

his presence is a burden on your heart.

peter's hands began to massage your legs, forcing you to let him in closer than you want him to be. "what, what?" he repeats.

your eyes meet his with defenses already prepared. "what are you doing here, peter?"

the words are weapons. one punch to the jaw and a knife shoved into his back.

you're trying to get him off of you, get him out that door and back into the world where he belongs so that you could stay here and rot, just like you want to.

but peter's eyes stay soft, his hands are kind and his intent is obvious. he isn't trying to fight with you.

he blows out a breath. "what're you doing here?"

you both stare at each other for a moment and then you look away, shaking your head. "i live here."

"you know that's not what i mean."

"do i?" you ask, voice sarcastic and mean. and it would be fine--usually. you and peter are mean to each other for sport.

but he wasn't being anything but easy. careful as he stretched your muscles out like he could tell that you hadn't used them in days.

trust peter to break your only rule.

it was silent again; only the sounds of commercials in the background, a woman swearing that aleve changed her life.

peter clears his throat. "why haven't you been answering my calls?"

"lost my phone."

"and class?"

"i've been sick."

"you missed an exam," he pushes. "you're gonna have to make it up."

"already emailed connaly."

"good." peter swallows, and you can feel his pounding, his questions even when he's not asking them.

you want to push him off of the couch. you want to push him off of you, leave bruises from the fall, and tell him to find someone who can be his friend. who can do this.

you want to be understanding, and as careful as he is. you love him enough to not scream, even if you want to.

"peter, i really just want to be alone, so--"

"when's the last time you ate?"

you sigh, pulling away from him.

but peter has a firm hold on your legs, and even if you tried, you couldn't kick him away.

"when was the last time you showered?"

"i've been sick, peter, it doesn't--"

"left the house?" he prods. "or moved from the couch? when was the last time you looked in the mirror?"

you sit up, looking at him without meeting his eyes. "you should go. i could still be contagious." the words are tense, your face is stone, unmoving, and unwilling to do any of this with him.

peter moves closer to you, his hands lingering just inches away from your marble face. "what's going on?" he asks, so softly that you can barely feel it on your plastered skin.

his concern and care, his stupid face and stupid eyes and--

"i can't do this, peter."

"you need to talk to me," he says, without even processing what you've said. "you need to tell me what's happening because it's been almost two weeks since i've seen you, and this..." he gestures around the room.

a place that used to be your home.

"what happened?"

and if anyone could get it out of you--pull the secrets you have hidden in your chest, ignoring your screams of pain--it would be peter. he would be the person that you talked to.

that is if you wanted to talk at all.

if you wanted to move from his couch and look into his eyes like you had been for months before this. like he was more than a classmate, or friend who had stuck to you. like he was someone who you wanted to care about.

someone with perfect lips and wonderful eyes and an addicting laugh.

someone who you might want to tell more, share more.

the person that you'd been a month ago would've told peter. even unsure if he could keep that secret or stay with you, you would've told him. trusted him that much. more than he deserved.

but the person sitting on your couch staring into those same eyes doesn't want anything.

to move or breathe or have to tell peter that you just don't care anymore.

that whatever you have to tell him is gone, that your words and voice have been ripped from your chest, that this couch, this distance you've been trying to build is the only remedy to fix the hole that remains.

but you don't want to see him. you don't want to tell him anything. you don't want to breathe his air and risk infecting him.

"nothing, peter. i'm fine."

"you look like you've spent the last month in the hospital."

"well, you look like a goddamn swimsuit model, so i guess we're even."

you're watching as his serious face shifts, and you can see it as he fights back a laugh, his eyes just barely flickering.

and you wish that you didn't care. you wish so badly that it didn't matter. you look away, thinking to pretend that none of this exists.

you've had enough nightmares like this lately.

"hey," peter says, one fingertip turning your eyes back to his. and you know it's not a dream, because your imagination can never get those eyes just right. "i'm here to listen. whatever it is. we'll work it out. i just need you to talk to me."

"i told you, there's nothing--"

"and you've got to stop lying to me like i can't tell."

you scowl.

peter's eyebrows lift, a fraction of affection appearing on his face. "c'mon, just tell me. i won't laugh."

you look down, at his hand resting on your thigh, and the hole you've burned into the couch.

you don't want to look at his eyes anymore. you're tired of trying to look away. and not talking to him.

you sigh. "nothing, peter. just..." you blink, but it's not enough to push his regard off of you. to rid yourself of the toxins he's breathed into you.

you were almost immune to them, just a few weeks ago. mithridatism only works if it's consistent.

and his eyes are more dangerous when you haven't seen them.

you freeze. "there's nothing," you repeat, defenses falling, hands going to push him away from your face.

and peter knows what's going to happen before you do. "hey," he says, already soothing. "whatever it is..."

and peter grabs you before you fall. he catches that first tear, and it's his forever. his arms fold around your shoulder, his strong hands keeping your head up.

"there's nothing. it's all gone. everything i want, everything i--"

his hands are tilting your face up to his but you can't look at him. you can't look into his perfect eyes and feel ashamed of yourself anymore.

you're sick and tired of feeling sorry for yourself.

"i can't feel anything, peter. i don't want to do anything but sit here and hope that eventually, this feeling goes away. that it all just..." you shake your head, feeling him invade you.

and then you lean in and let peter hold you up.

you hadn't even realized that you were crying. hadn't realized how far down you'd pushed the words until they were bubbling up.

bile crawling up your throat.

"i'm sorry," you whisper to him, just before he crushes you into a hug, your head buried into his neck. your tears staining his perfect skin. "i'm so sorry."

peter shakes his head against you, holding you even closer.

and you can't breathe with how tight he's holding you, but this sort of breathlessness is welcome. much better than the other kind.

you laugh against him, feeling how sore your body is. how angry you are with yourself.

"i've got you," peter whispers, into your hair, kissing your forehead. "we'll figure it out."

you shake your head but say nothing.

you finally breathe him in, desperate after denying yourself for so long. you don't have to worry about anything as long as peter is right there.

"god," he says, after a few minutes pass. "i'm sorry i didn't come sooner. i thought..."

thought you were okay, you can hear. thought that you needed space, that time was a perfect solution.

"not your fault," you mumble into him.

peter leans back, just so that you'll look up at him. "why didn't you tell me? you know i would've come," he says, "if you'd just called."

"i didn't want--" you swallow, looking away. "i didn't want you to know. or see."

peter scowls. "what did you think would happen? i would leave? or tell you to get over yourself?"

"maybe."

"are you insane?"

"maybe."

peter doesn't even laugh. he makes you look at him again, not knowing how cruel those eyes of his are. "i would've stayed," he tells you, "no matter what. even if you told me that you murdered someone. or run over a squirrel with your bike. i would've been there. i'm going to be there."

his jaw is tense and his eyes are so serious, but you sniffle, shaking your head. "even if i murdered a squirrel?"

"i mean... it would be hard. but i'd do it."

you laugh.

he swallows, shaking his head. "you need to tell me what's going on, okay? instead of ghosting me for two weeks, acting like you died or something."

"i answered a couple of your texts."

peter glares at you.

"okay. i'm sorry."

he shakes his head again, almost smiling, if a little bit sad. "are you okay?"

you fall back into him, suffocating yourself into his shoulder. you don't want to answer that, and hope that peter doesn't push.

for once, he does what you want, wrapping his arm back around you, pulling you in closer.

"okay," he says, and breathes with you.

you sit with him for a few seconds, glad that he's there, and then you ask, "how'd you get in?" voice muffled by his shirt.

"it was unlocked, you idiot."

you frown, looking up at him.

peter laughs.

"no, it wasn't."

his eyes return to normal, deviance stuck in his expression. "i used my key," he answers, innocently.

trust peter to ruin the moment.

my masterlist here.

tags:@moonlarking-blog @v1ci0us @preciousbabypeter @alexxavicry @directioner5life @inthegetawaycarwithtaylah @localrockstargf @thestudiouswanderer @take-my-hand-time-boy @thoughtsofagodlovingsunflower @nyomjoon @moo-b1tch @raindropstearsandtea @rqmanoff @hollandweather @wetcoldnoodle @urlocalavenderhazestan @valvlry @imthatcoolmom @spideysimpossiblegirl invisibletrolleyson-jeremy @sharkswaters @rowniebow @anaislfbv @take-my-hand-time-boy @mileyc111 @starsval @ratsys

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ystrike1 · 5 months

Text

My Student Grew Huge and Proposed to Me - By @_71416 (8/10)

The shock of the century! Your ideal man is in love with you, but he's seventeen years younger than you? You haven't even seen him since he left for high-school. First loves aren't supposed to last. WTF is happening??

Shou and Hinata. An English tutor and an eager student. Shou became extra interested in learning English after he fell head over heels, in the most childish way.

He would not stop following his sensei around.

He was so cute!!!

Was.

I'm not saying their relationship wasn't adorable. Hinata is a skilled teacher, and Shou was a good student. Innocent little crushes happen every day.

They parted before he left for high school.

Hinata is left in shock and screaming when a huge man appears on her doorstep. It's impossible for her to ignore him. She figures it out fast. Her clingy student has returned.

He failed.

He thought about giving up on her, but he's back.

She says no obviously. She's not comfortable dating someone so young...

...

So he says he'll go to college nearby, and they can date after he graduates...

...that's...some dedication...

We see that Shou has always been pretty weird. Most of his childhood revolved around impressing Hinata and becoming a good man for her. He remains popular. He's got great friends. His grades are fine...but the obsession remains.

It's in his hobbies. His dreams. His daily life.

When he faces setbacks and trouble he always ends up thinking about her.

Even after she's gone from his life.

He plans to return, as a good man.

He becomes handsome.

A cute, kind girl confesses.

I do think he wavered. I do think he realized he's a little weird, but pretending would be wrong. It would be a lie. He wants to love who he wants to love. He's almost too pure to be obsessive.

He definitely is though.

If Hinata doesn't waver...

If she looks at him with disgust...

If she's married...

...he'll give up.

His happy when he finds her drinking alone in a small apartment. Unhappily single, and unable to find a decent partner.

Kinda fuked up, but that's his cue.

She's not happy, so he's allowed to try and be her happiness.

Hinata had a hard time during those years. She dated a demanding and cold man. She isn't very financially stable, and she is no longer young. She gives Shou an ultimatum. No good job no marriage. If he isn't willing to wait EVEN LONGER, through years of proper dating and school...she will never trust him.

He is,of course, elated.

He says yes to her proposal.

#yandere #male yandere #yandere male #yandere boy #recommendations #recs #rec #recommended #My Student Grew Huge and Proposed to Me

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secretsideblogshhhh · 7 months

Text

Imagine you live in a kingdom. Everything in this kingdom was modeled after the founder of the whole city.

This means the house sizes, the utensils, the clothes, every single thing, was made for him.

And for plenty of people this is fine. The clothes fit them, the cabinets are easy enough to reach, the size of the tools are perfect.

But you're a fair bit smaller than this guy was. The clothes are extremely baggy on you. You struggle to keep them on. They get in your way and you trip over them all the time.

You can't reach the cabinets, the tools are hard to hold in your hands.

Everything you do takes so much effort because nothing here was made for you.

But everyone else gets annoyed by this, not because of the system made that makes life hard on you, but because you're different.

They hate you constantly tripping.

You mention maybe getting a belt to help with that, and everyone you know gets mad at you for even suggesting it.

"you don't really need a belt"

"you could just take some growth medicine, get bigger"

"you don't deserve special treatment just because you're different"

"well everything works just fine for me, I don't know why you have issues"

And it's frustrating. The only person who you can relate to is your buddy Tim, who's a whole lot bigger than the guy everything was made for was.

His clothes cut off his circulation, they actively hurt him.

He hits his head on doors, he can barely use the tools because they're so small to him.

He wants to make his own clothes, but he can't afford it because he can't keep a job.

No one wants to hire a guy who can't hold the tools, or who needs a break every few hours so he can take off his clothes in the bathroom to breathe.

And even if he did manage to get the money, the tools are too small. He'd have to hire someone.

And hiring someone would cost so much more.

Of course the responses he gets are similar to yours.

"you're just lazy, it's not that hard to get and keep a job"

"have you tried just losing weight? That's probably what's causing all your issues"

You and him bond over this. How the world is cruel to you for being different. You found each other because of you were different from everyone else and it brought you closer

But then people see your friendship. It would be natural to assume that your friendship makes sense. You have the same struggles after all.

But no.

People see that you're friends and say

"well obviously you're both making up your issues, it's so rare for even one of you to exist. But 2 of you? You have to be lying for attention"

You try to show them that your issues are real, because you want help. You'd love for others to understand and help you fix the way the kingdom is built.

But people look away, they ignore you. Either pretending to not see you or they just invalidate your experience.

"everyone has rough days"

"you just got some poorly made clothes"

"He just wants an excuse so he doesn't have to work"

"if you just tried harder-"

Everyone seems to have some solution for your issues, ones you've tried a hundred times before.

Everyone seems to have an opinion on your existence. Usually pity or disgust. Often a mix of both, though the disgust isn't something anyone will admit to aloud. Their actions speak loud enough though.

That's how it feels to have a disability. Especially an invisible one. You have to fight just to be heard and it's exhausting.

Everything that you do is a struggle people who aren't disabled just don't understand. And it's infuriating how they write you off just because they don't want to even try to understand

#physically disabled #invisible disability #disabled #chronic disability #disability #fibromyalgia #did system #the secret system #disabled pride #disability pride #vent #chronic pain

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shewrites02 · 19 days

Text

Forgive Me if I break You | Zoro x Reader | Part II

Part I

Trigger warnings: Domestic assault, Alcohol, verbal abuse , physical abuse, graphic depictions of violence. THIS FIC CONTAINS DARK CONTENT ! MINORS DNI !

*THERE IS A GRAPHIC DEPECTION OF DOMESTIC VIOLENCE IN THE FIRST FLASHBACK, IF NOT COMFORTABLE PLEASE SKIP. (the last line is the most important anyway)*

A/N: Thank you for all the support I've gotten at the start of this series, I was so nervous no one would be interested lol. I hope this part lives up to your expectations.

Request: Open

Word count: 5K

Leave a comment if you enjoy :)

The cold of the ice pack stings against your cheek, almost as much as the insults lodged in your throat with nowhere to go. Harshly, you swallow them down, having to reacclimate to the taste of stifled feelings. Almost completely forgotten in those two months.

You're in your shared bedroom, sitting in Lee's lap. Your head lays against his chest. With how tenderly he stroked your hair, you're almost able to imagine care in his touch. Pretend it is the swordsman who caresses you so tenderly. Lee places a soft kiss to your cheek, laying his head against yours.

"I'm sorry, y/n ... I didn't mean to lose my temper." He coos. In the past six months he never came up with any other excuse. Always an apology then an explanation of why it was your fault.

"It's jus’- you embarrassed me in front of our guests, interrupting me like that. You know I hate when you do that- and that fucking swordsman clearly has feelings for you."

Lee is almost completely lost in his rambling, and you think for a moment you will get relief from this puppet show he has forced you into. But the mention of Zoro has you going stiff.

"It's disgusting. a lowlife pirate thinking he can have what is mine. I forbid you from seeing him, do you understand?"

"Yes dear." you respond.

As if the swordsman wanted anything to do with you now. Not after what you've done to him- not after he has seen how pathetic you are. The future world's best swordsman deserves more than someone like you.

"I'm so glad you're home." Lee pivots. "I can't believe I thought you left me-"

Lee lets out a chuckle as though the thought is inconceivable. In spite of your rigidness, the chief takes a deep breath to relax into the headboard. Each chuckle that leaves his mouth tightens your shackles. Reaffirming what you already know- you aren't going anywhere.

"Is that what happened to the countryside?" You ask meekly. Fearful of the answer, but so desperate for the truth. "Did you burn the lemon grove to punish me?"

"... Yes."

Tears swell in your eyes as you pull away to look at the merciless man in front of you. A man who would bathe in your blood with no remorse. So desperate for your obedience he is willing to strip the last memories of your mother away from you as punishment . Did not need proof of your transgressions, his outrage evidence enough to justify his actions.

The chief uses the edge of his thumb to swipe the shallow tears brimming in your eyes.

"We can replant all of them my love, even more, now that you are home. "He lets his thumb sweep over your cheek and lips before he draws away.

Still he wears no semblance of remorse. No guilt or shame for what he's done. For the villagers - his people- homes destroyed in the crossfire of his rage. Couldn't care less about the massive amounts of nature he burned to ash in the name of revenge. Their forfeiture was a consequence of your decision to act so selfishly. It was all your fault-

Why should the chief feel apologetic?

"And the villagers?"

Lee leans in to gently place another kiss to your cheek. As though his kisses can ease the pain of his strikes. Something in you wants to believe he is trying to soothe the pain he inflicted on you. The more nihilistic part of you knows you are only searching for the swordsman's affection in Lee 's actions. Actions that only encompass power and control, that force obedience. Lee rests his forehead head against your head so that his lips are centimeters away from your ear.

"I told you, what I would do if you left- I thought you called my bluff, honey …"

Your mouth went dry at the sight. How- You thought- there was no time to waste musing through all the precautions you thought you followed. Not when your husband stood in front of you disproving their effectiveness.

"What is this?" He asked, pointing over to the bed.

There is an empty duffle bag clutched tight in his left hand- your duffle bag. Its contents scattered on the bed sporadically. A couple thousand berry, a map, exactly two changes of clothes, and a log pose. Everything you needed for a seamless departure.

"I- don't know how it- I-" You were too caught off guard to lie, too unprepared to conjure up an excuse on the fly. Instead you stood fumbling like an idiot trying to figure out how Lee could have possibly just stumbled upon your stash.

"What is it?!" The chief shouted, this time throwing the duffle bag so that it landed at your feet. Before you could answer, he was already stalking toward you. Soon his hands were wrapped around your jaw, squeezing your cheeks. You'd wince in pain if the man had allowed you any wiggle room.

"Were you trying to leave me?" he growls.

"No-" you tried to muffle through your clenched jaw. the word only coming out as a strained cry.

He looked unconvinced. That darkness you're too familiar with started to fill his eyes. It made you begin to question what in you was so naïve enough to think you could escape. Lee moves his hand from your cheek to wrap his arm firmly around your waist. His opposite arm wrapped around your shoulders.

"You want to leave me?" He snarled.

Your head shook ‘no’ so vigorously you almost forgot it was a lie. Just trying to appease the chief, to be spared from his wrath. It did not work. Lee was already starting to walk backward , dragging your body along easily despite your protests. This time you were sure.

He was going to kill you.

Lee easily kicked open the French doors leading to the balcony. Your kicking and screaming, posing as no defense against your husband. He drags you, until your torso is pressed against the balcony railing and he is forcing your head over to look at the drop.

"This is your only way out. If you want to leave me tell me now and I'll throw you over myself.... Say it!"

"I don't want to leave. I don't want to leave." The words repeated from your mouth like an incantation. Barely made out through your cries.

It was enough to make the chief release you, letting your limp body fall to the concrete. He stared down at you with a satisfactory smile before bending at the knees. The gentleness in his touch as he swept the hair out your face is always a precursor to his cruel threats.

"I'll burn this whole village to the ground if you try to leave again. Do you understand me?" He snarls. "Slowly, one by one I will burn every region until you return to me. I will force you to watch everyone, everything , burn because you decided to be fucking selfish."

Another kiss is planted to your cheek before the whisper of Lee's voice commands your attention back to him. A shiver of a sigh escaping your lips at the painful memory.

"I can rebuild their homes... would you like that?"

You nod, letting the tears stream your face. You can feel Lee's smirk against your skin when he kisses the streaks. As though he is giving his approval of your reaction, your emotion. The whites of his fingers dig into your waist to hold you close. His grip does not lessen when you start to sob.

This is how he loved you. Broken. Tattered. Hopeless. An ode to his power, to how much he controlled you.

"Okay, Honey, first thing in the morning."

Water trickles down your chin and onto the sink. You had washed your face six times trying to get the feeling of Lee's hands off you. A futile attempt. His touch would be seared onto you forever.

You trace your cheek while staring into the vanity. There's some relief in not seeing a mark. Probably have your hiatus to thank for Lee's sudden mercy on you. At least you won't be subjected to questions. Trying to conjure up on the spot cover ups come morning, as to not incriminate your husband.

A shaky breath leaves your mouth. You would sob if you weren't so convinced you deserved this. The stinging of your face, the burning of your throat, the stabbing feeling in your chest. This must all be just a fraction of what you imposed on Zoro. The guilt in you leaves little room for other emotions, especially self pity.

How dare you believe a life waited for you beyond these cities' walls. Stupid, stupid, stupid- Foolishly thinking you could escape the future both your father and husband have mapped for you.

You curse the two month departure for giving you a glimpse of how good freedom could feel. For bringing the swordsman into your life when he is so undeserving of the burden you pose. For finally giving you hope just to later rub it in your face.

"Lady Misatori." A small voice quips from the other side of the bathroom door. A knock follows to further force your attention.

A housekeeper stands on the other side. She can barely meet your eyes. A piece of notebook paper is folded into a tight square in her fingers , she is extending it out for you to grab. It trembles in her hands, giving way to the anxiety she is failing to hide.

"Thank you." You mutter. The maid looks relieved to hear her question-free dismissal.

When you open up the note you immediately recognize the handwriting. Had seen scribbled recipes written on loose leaf paper, and napkins enough to note it as Sanji's.

'Mosshead wants to talk- garden 10 minutes .'

The woman's trembling is finally put into perspective. Fearful of what her role in sneaking around the chief could mean for her. Briefly you wonder what the cook could've said to convince the woman to do this. Had his charm really been strong enough to get the woman to forgo all her senses? Part of you wishes to relish seeing Sanji's flirting finally meet with intrigue, but the insistent need to lay eyes on Zoro replaces the thought.

It has you stumbling out of the bathroom as quickly as you could. Forever grateful that in all his control Lee had found it fitting to give you a private bathroom.

It is dark, and wet. Leaves crunch and crumble beneath your feet as you walk the maze-like garden. The unpaved path is bordered with mountainous rose bushes that block your view of any direction, but front and back. The red flowers bloom so fruitfully they encroach your space on the pathway. The weather has gotten considerably cooler in the night, forcing you to pull your cardigan tighter around your shoulders. Regretting that the rush had made you grab the first thing with sleeves you saw.

A sigh leaves your lips exhaustedly. Surely the cook was mistaken. There was no sign of the swordsman anywhere. Maybe he had changed his mind about wanting to talk. Decided the risk isn't worth the reward. That you aren't worth the breath-

You hit an intersection on the path, and before you have the opportunity to turn left, there is a tight grasp around your arm. The force pulls you back, nestling you into the bushes behind you as you still. Once you gain your composure and are able to open your eyes, you’re met with the swordsman.

His left hand is wrapped firmly around your right arm, his other rest in the bush beside your head. Zoro has you caged. Trapped with nowhere to run. No place to hide. No escape.

"Husband?" He fumed. "Have you just been fucking around with me?"

"Zoro..." You plead, reaching out to grasp his cheek. He does not let you. Releases his hold on you to take a step back before your fingers land on him. The look on his face seethes of betrayal.

"Answer me!" The pirate barks. You flinch at the tone of his words, your eyes shutting closed. It takes a minute to gather yourself. You have never heard Zoro's voice void of any affection.

You swallow your own tears . Shove down your discomfort to accept accountability for your actions. Even if all you want to do is hold the swordsman once more. Hear his heart thump in his chest. Hear him say he loves you.

"I should have told you. I am so sorry I hurt you Zoro. "

The pirate scoffs, clearly not satisfied with your answer. He is shaking his head in disbelief, eyes burrowing into yours.

"You lied to me. You told me you loved m-"

"I Promise Zoro, I love you. I love you so much. so much." You beseech.

The swordsman seems even more tortured by your testament. His hands find his skull to dig his fingers into his scalp. As if trying to ground himself for only a moment at the reeling thoughts.

"Does he know that? That you love me, that you're mine?"

When you don't answer the frustration builds in the swordsman. He lets out a pained laugh that morphs into more of a choke. His expression is filled with disbelief.

"You're not mine." He speaks as if he is speaking to himself. "You're his."

"That is who you want to spend the rest of your life with? He talks to you like shit- the dirt beneath his shoes and you smile through the whole thing. The man who thinks you're his accessory- That is the man you love?"

Zoro badgers you. Moving his tongue as piercingly swift as you're sure, he can wield his swords.

"I do not love that man." You choke.

"Then why?" The swordsman shouts. His exclamation wakes the small birds that have chosen the garden as their resting place. The sounds of their wings flapping away from the conflict fills the air. "Y/n ... why are you doing this to me?"

There is a frailness to his voice you don't recognize. Something so breakable about the way he utters your name. In the two months you had spent with Zoro you had never seen him show this much emotion.

"Zoro, if I could stay on the beach with you forever... I would. But I can't. I have people who need me-"

"I need you!" He professes, throwing his arms in the air.

The way that Zoro bares his scars to you , when you could not do the same in return physically pains you. You force down the tears that dare to surface at his confession. Who were you to be hurt in a situation you hand crafted? To cry in the presence of a man who held his broken heart in his hands with hopes, you would fix it.

There's an immense sadness in your restraint, how you're able to still your body though every bone in you wants to wrap around him. Reciprocate all the comfort Zoro so willingly gives to you. But this is not the beach-

"I'm so sorry Zoro. I'm so sorry." Your eyes shift to the ground. The tears are so much harder to fight off when you can see the confusion under his saddened expression.

Zoro cups your cheeks in his hands and for a fleeting moment there is no anger. There are only kisses shared under the stars, gasps fallen onto the sand, words of endearment lost to the wind. Love. For a second Zoro stares at you and there is only love.

"I don't want apologizes- " There's a shake in his breath. " I want you to tell me why I have to watch another man touch you. Why he gets to hold you tonight instead of me. Tell me why you keep saying you love me, but you're going home to another man. Tell me the fucking truth!"

Even in his anger you can hear the worry in the pirate's voice. It takes you by surprise. Maybe malice hasn't taken up the space of affection in Zoro's heart after all. Maybe in all his poking and prodding Lee had only brought concern out of the first mate. The sweet sentiment physically aches. You turn your head, breaking free from his grasp.

"Leave Zoro- take your crewmates and go. I'm only going to hurt you if you stay, so please- go."

"... Is he why you need the sun to feel free?"

You're caught off guard by the swordsman's questions. Don't expect to hear your words echoed from his mouth. "Free". You could almost laugh hearing the word now. Freedom? What did you know about freedom? Always a pawn for someone else's will, your own desires to be placed on a shelf and expectantly forgotten. This castle has always been your prison.

"I'll make sure you'd feel the sun everyday. I will drag it out the sky and place it in your hands if it will make you smile. I'll never trap you. I love you. Please- don't leave me." He begs.

Your body is moving on its own again, this time manipulated by the voice of the swordsman. Unsure of what has come over you, you're reaching out for Zoro, pulling him in closer. You know that you shouldn't. Especially not here and not now. But it does not stop you from standing on your tiptoes to press your lips into his.

The intention was for a quick kiss, just one last time to feel Zoro's lips on yours, but it's difficult not to savor the moment. To not search for another life, one where you could be together, in his mouth. The same desperation is displayed in the way Zoro grasps you. Tight. One hand tangled in your hair while the other on your waist. As if he could hold you tight enough to stay. He groans in displeasure why you finally pull away from him.

"Go Zoro. I'm only going to break you."

The sun has risen just enough to illuminate the desolate field. The early morning is still shying away from pushing out the darkness of night completely. You woke early enough to see Lee still had not returned home. Off doing something you are sure, is none of your business.

You took the opportunity to sneak out to what used to be the lemon grove. Tears stream your face while you wonder what pushed you out here. What exactly it is that you're hoping to find amongst the ash.

The memories of your mother you can't get back? Pieces of the wooden swing you used to sit on in the summer? Evidence it was truly necessary to leave the swordsman in your past?

It's hard to focus on all you've lost when staring at the pile of rubble that is the villagers' homes. Their whole lives destroyed at a whim. You did this to them. Had you stayed home and behaved no one, not even the swordsman, would be in this situation.

"Wanna tell me what you're looking for?"

The whisper behind you sounds so familiar. There is a part of you that does not want to turn around, thinks it's better off not knowing who the voice belongs to. A bigger part of you itches with a need to know.

"Zoro."

"Maybe I can help you find it." There's a crooked smirk on his lips.

It's involuntary, the way your heart is instantly soothed at his arrival. Something it must have learned on its own while on the beach. You have to fight not to jump into his arms. Draw him into you with the wish to feel his lips again.

" I thought I told you to leave..." you mutter.

"You did." The pirate agrees. Zoro moves from behind you, so you no longer have to crane your neck to look at him. He reaches to take your hand in his. His thumb traces the back of your hand, his touch so soft you almost don't feel it.

"You're still here."

"You may have authority in this village, but the only person I take orders from is Luffy." He lets out a laugh.

The sound forces your brows to furrow to the center of your face. Where was his anger? His disappointment? Why wasn't he yelling at you? The last conversation you had with the swordsman had not gone the best. This warm welcome is the farthest reception you expected to receive.

"What?" He asks, reaching out to smooth the wrinkles your frown causes. You're surprised at the way you flinch when his fingertips touch your forehead, a reaction you hadn't had in at least a month.

Had it really only taken one night with Lee to erase all your expectations of being lovingly touched?

You can see Zoro's happy exterior waiver for just a moment at your knee jerk reaction. Still he does not draw away his fingers. Just trails them down so he can stroke your cheek. Still offering you a kind smile.

"Stop Zo..." You're taking a step away before you can give into him. Pulling your hand away to further the distance. "What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to see the lemon grove..." He uses the tip of his boot to kick at a burned shingle on the ground. "So much for that."

"Oh? You made it here all on your own?" In spite of your sorrows you laugh. "You didn't get lost?"

Zoro glares at you, his eyebrows raised to his temples. You suspect he hadn't expected you to join in on his light heartedness.

"I had to ask someone in the town square..." He sheepishly admits drawing an even more obnoxious laugh for your throat.

"Why were you looking for the lemon grove?"

"You don't remember?" He asks.

Even in your best memories of the beach, you never liked sand. The way it intrusively stuck to you, creeping its way into every nook and cranny made your skin crawl, but this beach was the expectation. You loved everything about this beach.

"Tell me something else." Zoro requests. His voice was softer than before- meeker after your supposed rejection.

You were still wrapped firmly in the swordsman arms, your head on his chest. Zoro's head had returned to rest on top of yours. A brisk breeze forced you closer to Zoro in search of warmth, the thin blanket almost whisked away at the gust. The sight drew a laugh from the pirate.

"Where would you be right now if you were home?"

The only location you could definitely think of was underneath the chief's thumb, but that surely couldn't be the answer the swordsman was looking for. It was hard to think of places in your village that still brought you joy. Places that hadn't been corrupted in the transition of power from your father to Lee.

"The lemon grove." You blurted out the second it came to you. There was a cheesy grin on your face while you reminisced. A grin that is met with a full blown smile from Zoro once he sees your joy. He leaned down to plant a kiss to your cheek, then your jaw.

"Yeah? Why is that your favorite place?" His breath brushed against your neck.

"My mom used to take me there, and we would have picnics in the summer. There's this huge swing we'd sit on. It's my favorite place in the whole world."

"All that you've seen of it?" Zoro jokes. He caught your wrist when you went to slap his chest. Bringing your hands to his lips to kiss your knuckles. He rubbed his finger back and forth over yours after planting one last kiss to your cheek.

"Maybe you can show it to me? When we get you home?"

Lee had never in the six months you'd been married bothered to visit the lemon grove. Just knew it was a sacred space for you , a memento to your mother. This was the first time you're grateful for that. That in the chief's vast kingdom there could still be a place that could be just Zoro and yours.

"I would love that Zo."

You smiled before craning your neck to plant a kiss on his lips.

"I wanted to see your favorite place." Zoro admits once he sees you remember. "I thought it might give me some insight."

"Insight?" You parrot in confusion.

"You're hiding something from me." Zoro states plainly, drawing your eyes to him.

"You found out I'm married, what else can I be hiding Zoro?" Your voice trembles with exhaustion.

The swordsman narrows his eyes as he looks you over. That fury, and fire previously seen in the garden is long gone . All that remains is this inquisitive stare.

"I don't know, but you are... I wish you would let me help you."

"Help me-" There is a feigned smile painted on your lips. How could a pirate of the new world be so... heartening. Surely the horrors he has seen, far exceed the small misfortunes of your life.

"Zoro. I already told you to go. "

"If you looked at me and told me you didn't mean any of it I would've left. Sailed away and tried for the rest of my life never to think of you again, but you didn't. You told me you love me-"

"I do."

Zoro plops down onto the ash filled ground. He crosses his arms against his chest, and stares out at the rubble.

"Then I'm not leaving. Until you tell me what's going on, what's actually happening, I'm not going anywhere."

The way your heart swells at his proclamation is treacherous. Allowing yourself to be swooned by actions that could very well get the both of you executed. You almost think it's sweet, if it wasn't so stupid.

"Why do you care? Zoro I hurt you, why are you still chasing me?"

"... because I meant it when I said I love you. And I know you meant it too."

"You deserve someone better than me Zoro. Someone who won't hold you back, someone who won't hurt you, someone worthy of standing next to the world's strongest swordsman."

"I don't care what you think I deserve. That's not a decision for you to make." Zoro snaps.

"Zoro... " You sigh exasperatedly at his rebuttal. "Do you really think I won't hold you back? That you will still become the world's strongest swordsman if I'm standing next to you?"

"I don't think I will become the world's strongest swordsman if you aren't standing next to me."

There's a sharp breath forced into your lungs at his confession. How could he say that with such certainty. It has only been two months. The two of you should be able to forget each other. Move on as if none of this happened- but Zoro stands before you stating he doesn't know if his dream will come true without you. A dream he has been chasing his entire life. A dream you've only come privy to in the last 60 days.

"Tell me you don't love me- I'll go. If you look me in my eyes right now and say it, I'll leave." He challenges.

You search for the words on your tongue, though you cannot find them. No parts of you willing, or wanting to lie to the swordsman.

"I can't."

Zoro has kept his promise. The strawhat crew joining you and your husband for breakfast, lunch, and now dinner going on the third day in a row. You wonder what the pirate is waiting for? A confession? An outcry for help? Don't know what actions would be satisfactory enough to get him to sail away.

In all of those days Zoro has sat in that same seat, to the right of you at every meal. Some meals he would lightly brush his knees back and forth against yours. At others he would 'accidentally' knock his napkin off the table so he could pinch your thighs. In spite of your best efforts to forget the swordsman exists, he seems all too insistent on making his presence known.

"So Luffy, when do you think you and your crew will be leaving?" Lee asks. His voice does well to mask the irritation you can pin in the twitch of his eye. "We'd love to send you all off with a ball."

You suspect Lee's urging of the Strawhats' departure correlates to his growing suspicion of the swordsman. The chief may be many things, but naïve has never been one of them. He takes note of the way Zoro's eye never leaves you, regardless of whoever is speaking. How the swordsman just couldn't be bothered to feign interest whenever the chief commands the room. You had spent every one of these past nights disavowing your feelings for the swordsman.

"We're thinking soon- Wednesday at the latest." Nami answers before her captain has the opportunity to. He seems to wear a confused look that is soon dissipated by her scowl.

Two days.

Although you had trained yourself not to go looking for the swordsman, your eyes immediately fall onto him at the navigator's words. Your concern is met with raised bows, almost a silent challenge from the pirate.

Did he expect you to profess your love there at the dinner table? To look at your husband and gloat in the love you've been able to find? Neither are options being the choice was not yours. Lee has done a great job in ensuring you did not have any choices.

"Oh, I'll get the staff on preparations immediately. We will hold the ball tomorrow." Lee's smile is filled with pleasure.

His wife had returned home, and soon the guests he had been performing for would be on their way. Everything is on the road to being back to normal. Exactly how you remembered it. The thought sends a shiver down your body.

"Maybe y/n can take us to the shop to find a dress?" Robin suggests.

Lee is apprehensive about letting you go. Obvious from the way his smile falters at the archeologists suggestion. But he never could deny a pretty woman. Begrudgingly he agrees.

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

A/N: Part three is in the works , I'm hoping to not go more than a week between chapters, but please don't hold me to that. The ADHD will make me a liar. Thank you to all the beautiful people who care about my work, and have so many kind words.

Tag List: @turtletaubwrites @jinjen @sanzu-clinic @heyauntieeee @honeybuzzzzzz @nothing-but-brass

#one piece #zoro roronoa #ronoroa zoro #zoro x reader #zoro x y/n #zoro x you #zoro roronoa x y/n #roronoa zoro x reader #forgive me if i break you

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rogueddie · 2 months

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Issues T | 608 words Prompt for steddielovemonth: Love is being able to say you're sorry and mean it

"No, that's enough!" Eddie yells, slamming his hands onto the table with a deafening thud. "I'm fucking sick of this!"

"You're sick of this?" Steve echoes, upper lip curling with disgust. "How the hell do you think I feel?"

"How the fuck am I supposed to know? It's not like you ever talk to me about anything!"

"Don't pretend you suddenly care now!"

"Jesus Christ, I've always cared! You're the one too fucking focused on your ego to notice what anyone else is going through!"

"That's a joke. You've never been there when Dustin needs you to sit with-"

"He doesn't need me! He's never asked for me! He needs you because you're the one that makes him feel safe!"

"He needs you too! We almost lost you and Dustin had to-"

"I know! We've already-"

"He still has nightmares about it!"

"Oh for- whatever. Dustin still needs support, got it. You do too!"

"This is stupid, you're stupid."

"That- what are you doing?"

"Leaving. I'm gonna stay with Robin for the night."

"Seriously?!"

Steve doesn't reply. He grabs the small bag that he's thrown a change of clothes into, grabbing his shoes and keys, and slamming the door shut behind him.

Eddie gawps at the empty doorway for a minute, only moving to follow when he hears the beemer roar to life.

"Steve!" He tries.

But Steve ignores him, barely sparing him a glance, pulling out and driving away.

"What the fuck," Eddie whispers to himself, reluctantly going back inside.

He knows too well how much worse an argument can get if he tries to follow Steve on the rare occasion that he needs to leave.

But he also expects Steve to be back in the morning, either with his tail between his legs or demanding an apology.

He does neither. He doesn't come back in the morning.

Or the afternoon.

Or the evening.

The sun has long since set by the time Eddie parks on the street outside the Buckley household.

"Eddie," Robins mom greets warmly.

"Hey, uh... is Steve here?"

"Yes, he stayed the night, they're just up in Robbie's room."

"Could, uh... could you tell them I'm here?"

"You can go up, dear, it's no worries."

"I know, it's... uh..."

"ah," she smiles knowingly, patting his shoulder. "Alright. I'll go let them know. He'll be down in a moment."

"Thank you."

Waiting in the cold, on the porch, is horrifying.

Thankfully, he doesn't have to wait long before the door opens again and Steve steps out, looking awkward and sheepish.

He shuts the door behind him, crossing his arms, looking anywhere except at him.

"I'm sorry," Eddie finally chokes out. "I didn't mean to push, I really am just... I'm worried about you. It scares me sometimes but I shouldn't have lashed out at you because of that."

Steve stares at him for a moment, face blank, before he frowns. Confused, he says, "what?"

"I'm sorry."

"No, I heard, it... you aren't the one who should be apologising."

"I pushed you when I should have-"

"No, Ed, you were trying to take care of me and I-"

"Steve, stop it. I wasn't listening to you. I'm sorry."

"It's ok, really. It's not like I was trying to have a conversation or something. I just got..."

"Scared?"

"Yeah, I guess."

"I'm sorry I made you feel like that. But, like... if you ever do need help with any of that, I'm right here. I want to help."

"When I'm ready."

"When you're ready."

"Ok. Thank you, Eds. I'm sorry too. I shouldn't have started yelling at you like that."

"It's ok. We'll work through it."

#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steddie fic #ficlet #nav.slm #23

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derekhighwaytf · 9 months

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InstaCub

I loved the Cha Cha Room. It was as exclusive as it was expensive, but hey that’s the price you pay when you’re a social media sensation. Being Trey, the sexy instagram model wasn’t without its downsides, however. The worst thing was when guys who should’ve known that someone of my caliber wouldn’t be interested in them tried to hit on me. Sure, I fucked my fans regularly, but only the ones that shared my dedication to beauty. I couldn’t help that I was born gorgeous.

My entourage, an aesthetically curated group of other models (all only slightly less attractive than myself) walked into the Cha Cha Room, ready to be gawked at, each of us oozing beauty and charisma. The crowd parted like the Red Sea, their eyes filled with awe, desire, and, my favorite, envy.

But amongst that sea, there was one guy that forced me to do a double take. Doug, rounder and balder than anyone else, didn't fit the usual demographic that came to Cha Cha. It was a mystery how he must’ve slipped his way in when security wasn’t looking, because there was no chance they’d ever willingly allow someone who looked like that to enter such exclusive premises. And, to make matters worse, when he caught me staring at his odd appearance, he began to make his way toward me, a small, devious smile playing on his lips.

"Can I buy you a drink?," he asked. I raised an eyebrow, my lips curling into a smirk. Sure, he was far beneath my standards, but I loved teasing my inferiors, especially when it comes with a free drink. "Well, aren't you a sweetheart," I replied, trying to hide my disdain for his smelly, musky demeanor.

As we talked and I pretended to listen, he must’ve farted at least three times, but I wanted to be nice, so I held my breath and counted the seconds till I could rejoin my way cooler group of friends. However, when Doug began flirting, I couldn’t help it. A chuckle bubbled up from my chest and I shook my head, saying "Doug, was it? No amount of drinks in this club could make me think you're anything but fat, smelly, and bald."

“And what’s wrong with that?” he said earnestly. “This is a bar for fat, smelly, bald guys after all.”

“What are you talking about?” I asked. Just as the words escaped my lips, I noticed something strange. As my eyes scanned the crowd, I realized that everyone, even my formerly flawless friends, looked just like Doug. They’d grown beards, their hair on their head was gone, and they all had guts the size of bowling balls. I felt a chill run down my spine as I started to walk away.

“I must be in the wrong place. I don’t belong here,” I said, just barely missing the door. But before I could free myself from this hellhole, Doug stopped me and said, “Yes you do. I think you fit in perfectly.”

Suddenly, my Gucci shirt felt tight around my midsection, and my once firm arms now felt doughy. As I turned to leave, a full-length mirror on the wall revealed a shocking transformation. I reached up and where once were lush and thick chestnut locks, was now greeted the cold, bare skin of a rapidly receding hairline, retreating with alarming speed, creating an expanding dome of skin I’d never seen before.

Clumps of my hair began to detach themselves from my scalp, falling gently to the club floor. Each strand felt like a piece of my identity, a piece of Trey, falling away to reveal the bald truth underneath. I watched in frozen terror, feeling each follicle detach until all that remained was nothing but a smooth, shiny surface. I was as bald as an egg.

And then I farted.

Pffffffft.

I was disgusted with myself for only a moment, until I started to let a hearty chuckle much deeper than my old voice.

I looked in the mirror again, my face so much more different than it was ten minutes ago—familiar, but not the one I had painstakingly maintained for the world to admire. Suddenly, the world seemed to shift as a flood of memories washed over me. I wasn't Trey, the Instagram sensation. I was Tom, a twenty-something, bald, overweight man who didn’t shower, farted every five minutes, and fucked anyone who’d have me. This was my bar and I was gonna make sure all my fellow cubs had a good time

As the rock music blared and the crowd at Tommy’s Den started to become increasingly alluring to me, I was suddenly hit with a wave of unfulfilled desire, a need for cock. So I pulled Doug aside to the bathroom and…well you can guess what happened next.

I was Tom now, and, honestly, my life was so much better…

Pffffffffft.

#bald #bald tf #male transformation #tf #gay tf #mental change #tf story #twink to bear #bear tf #bearification

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curvykittyyssmutfics · 2 months

Text

Dating Both Boys (NSFW Alphabet)

A = Aftercare: The boys are very aware they both leave your whole body soiled and brain fucked so stupid that it's only fair to run you a nice warm bubble bath, help wash away their cum and soothe your sore overworked limbs. Sometimes you put the pussy on em so good that Satoru falls into a dreamlesss slumber soon as he nuts, snorin in your ear with his softening length still lodged deep inside you. But Suguru ain't the one. Holds his nose till he gasps dramatically, ice blue eyes shootin open. "Wake up idiot. Go get the bath ready for her."

B = Body Part (fave): "Mouth!" Suguru's cheeks heat when his answer spills from his lips before you can get the question out. "Sorry. Just really love kissin you." "Aw, how sweet Sugu!" "And.. Seein your plump lips all glossed up, slidin up and down my dick.. Shit really does somethin to me.." "Sugu! Tsk. Can tell Toru's been a bad influence on you." Now Satoru comes up with a different response everytime, filthy ass gropin wherever he can reach each time you bring the topic up to get a direct answer. "Baby, how can I choose? You're so fuckin perfect. There's no part of you that can't make me nut till I drop." You shake your head at the horny fuck. "Maybe I should ask your dick instead since you only think with him, fuckin THOT." "Touchè, baby. Touchè.."

C = Cum: Since your white haired sorcerer is nothin short of an absolute terrorizing menace, he finds satisfaction in blanketing your face with his cum whenever you allow it. Will really jerk his cock off all in your grill and cum a second time if he doesn't deem the first load big enough. "Hmm.. Think that's enough. Can barely open your eyes now, pretty mama. Let's go show Sugu!" For Suguru it's a tie between stuffin your throat or cunt. Loves when you stick your tongue out to show him the mess before swallowin your reward. Sometimes he's nice enough to let you decide. "Tell me ma, should I feed this mouth up here? Or do your pretty brown lips below wanna taste this nut?"

D = Dirty Secret: You stumble upon the skeleton in their closet one bright sunny afternoon comin home from class. You'd stayed later to have a word with Yaga, declining the boys offer to wait up. You're just not expectin to catch a savage Satoru brutally mounting Suguru doggystyle inna way that makes you 100% sure this ain't the first time. You stare wide eyed through the cracked bedroom door, hand clamped over your mouth, thighs pressing together as your pussy flutters to the sight. Both men on the bed facin you, gruntin and growlin like hungry predators. Satoru feels your presence but pretends otherwise. Disgusting filth drippin from his lips as he speeds the pace, smackin Suguru's flesh and yankin on his dark locks so hard that he cries out like a whore. You watch intently, stunned but so fuckin turned on. Sure they've touched each other in front of you, handjobs and such, but it had always seemed like they only engaged cause it turned you into a supersoaker. You ain't never seen no orgasmic shit like this. Gotta slide your fingers into your panties for some well needed relief, mentally smackin yourself when a small moan slips out. "Well, well, well.. Looks like we got an audience Sugu." Satoru finally acknowledges you, not bothering to slow his hips as he tugs Suguru from the pillows by his tangled hair. His dark eyes meet yours, tinted cheeks flushin an even brighter red as shame fills his core. It was an interesting fuckin evening for sure.

E = Experience: Satoru of course was a man whore before he convinced you to give him a shot. You assume he'll be quite versed in the art of all things sexual and for the most part, he is. Skilled and so quick to get excited when he sees how good you're feelin. But sometimes you need to readjust his fingers or hips to the correct angle, remind him not to rush cause none of you aren't goin anywhere. "There, Toruuu.. Right there but not so fast. Got all night- right Sugu?" As far as your other boyfriend was concerned, you hit the fuckin jackpot cause he was a virgin when you guys started dating. It really is a holy experience to be able to corrupt thee Suguru Geto. Though you feel bad when Satoru teases him on you bein the only pussy he's ever gotten. "Shut up Toru. Or I'll tie you up, not let you cum while you watch me drain Sugu's fat balls." Satoru smacks his lips and the back of Suguru's head in irritation. "See woman? You be choosin.."

F = Favorite Position: Satoru's breath catches in his throat, a glowing brightness fraying the edges of his vision the first time he gets you on all fours, baring witness to that almost back breakin arch. You're a godess to him, especially in this position- perfect round ass jiggling widly, smackin his pelvis in thundering claps. Sticky strings of your shared arousal connecting you both every time he pulls his hips back. Don't get him started on your reactions. Your feral as shit in this position. "Fuck, could you be any louder? Hm? No really baby, can you? Let's test it out." Suguru doesn't agree with Satoru on much but your ass is definitely just as hypnotizing to him. Though he prefers you in reverse cowgirl, smackin both hands down your dimpled cheeks till they burn more than your strained thighs. Even spreads them, smilin when you get all shy and flabbergasted as he stares longingly at your winking holes. Doesn't ever forget to make sure a mirrors nearby so he doesn't miss your tits matchin the rythym of your voluptuous hips. "Good God, y/nnn.. Killin me baby- oh fuck! Bouta cum!" "Nooo, only b-been a few minutes Suguuu!"

G = Goofy: The three of you've been together so long, bond so deeply rooted, they absolutely feel free to be carelessly humorous with you. Even in vulnerable moments. Satoru especially, lovin to put his mean dom twist on it. Mocks your strangled pleas and breathless cries of his name as he grins and wreaks havoc on your clit. Suguru is more reserved when he's inside you. Mostly waits for you to initiate; usually a dirty joke bout how big he is. He offers a huffed chuckle and a quick quip as he takes you apart piece by piece. "All the better to fuck you with my dear."

H = Hair: The carpet absolutely matches the drapes on these gorgeous hunk of men. Does it really surprise a soul that Suguru keeps his shit as neat as the hair on his head? Both men trim, though Satoru may forget and need a reminder. Bonus: Your fresh out the bath, towel wrapped round your curvy body snugly, sittin on the edge of the tub. Your lookin for an escape route as Suguru stands by the sink pleading with you. "Please y/n? All you gotta do is lay back and spread for us." "Ew. Why Sugu? So freakin gross!" You whine back. "No it's not. Perfectly normal thing for couples to do. Right, Toru?" You both look to a chill Satoru leaned against the bathroom doorway. "Course it is. But even if it weren't, that wouldn't stop us sweetheart. You should know that by now." "But I always shave myself down there. Why do you want to?" "Cause it'll bring us closer baby, you'll see." You look at Satoru again but he shrugs, giftin you a dazzling smile. "Fine." You grumble. "Great! Toru go get the bowl of water and razor in the kitchen, you know where." "On it!" He whizzes from the room as you instantly realize this was prearranged. "Fuckin freaky plotters!"

I = I Love You: Even though Satoru's shallow ass confessed during sex, he meant it with all his heart. But neither you or Suguru had said it yet and rejection was an experience he wasn't fond of. Regardless, it slips one day when he's got you missionary. Fingers linked as he sensually makes love to you, nut just over the horizon. You're so needy, beggin him to tell you how good you're makin him feel; to tell you how much he needs you. "Oh fuck yes you're a good girl. No one can take me better baby. Mmm.. Please don't ever take my pussy away.. Ahhh- so good sweetheart! Love it so much. Looove this pussy.. Shiiit cummin, y/n! Love you so much, babygirl!" With Suguru it comes when you offer the perfect solution to the issue of the curses he swallows tastin like shit onna stick, although it takes a considerable amout of your cursed energy and temporarily weakens you severely. "Can't believe you did this for me. Thank you, princess. So so fuckin much. I appre- no y/n. I love you. Love you forever and a day, babe."

J = Jerking Off: It's all Suguru knew at one point so now that he's sampled sex with you, he's grown a serious disliking to makin himself cum. But he doesn't like to impose on you. You're a busy woman, as well as you put in a lot of time and energy into keepin both your men happy in any way you can. So when he gets an inkling that you need a break, he'll head to the bathroom to handle business. Makes sure to bring his cell, full of sexy pics and vids of his lovers. Satoru is a bit more selfish. Realistically, the man probably only jerks off alone 7-8 times a year. Makes sure that either of his partners lend a helping hand whenever he gets too pent up. Other than that if his hands on his dick it's aim or tease.

K = Kink: Suguru's into a lil role play, spit kink, edging, a smidge of voyeurism and a whole lotta breeding. Might actually die of embarrasment if you ever found out about the latter. Told Satoru they'd battle to the death if he ever snitched. Wants 10 babies that look just like his lovers. You're both so beautiful, can you blame him? And Satoru has too many kinks to count, we'd be here all day tryin to list em all. But some of his faves include light BDSM, Daddy kink sprinkled with some puppy play, and of course some somno. He wasn't sure how to introduce the last one into the fold though. How was he ever supposed to tell his princess, or even Suguru for that matter, that he drools daily fantasizing about slidin into your unconscious body. Wants to see if he can fuck that perfect pussy to an orgasm while you sleep, needs you to lay there all warm and pliant, oblivious to him usin you like a pocket pussy.

L = Location: Satoru is a connoisseur of public relations. Literally any fuckin where. The amount of joy he finds from you pullin out all the stops in effort to hold in your pitchy moans is fuckin sickening. From him feastin on your pulsing clit in the car in the movie theater parking lot to fingerin you in a booth at your fave restaurant. It's all the more worse when he taunts you with his soft pink mouth, kissin up and down your neck tenderly as you try to hide the way your eyes cross behind your menu. But Suguru beats Satoru in depravity this time. It's a whole new level of sick how much he delighted in fuckin you in your childhood bed when you take them to meet your parents. You thank God they ran to the store to grab a few items to for dinner. Satoru begrudgingly plays watch-out by the front door as Suguru fucked you so hard he splintered the headboard against the wall. He's been absolutely infatuated with doin it again since.

M = Motivation: It doesn't take much to get the boys ready for some action. You poke fun at them constantly bout how easy it is to make their dicks rise to the occasion. But they take it on the chin easily cause they know its 100% true. They'll never not be able to get hard for you at the drop of a dime, even after a couple rounds. Run your fingers through Suguru's black mane, nails scratching his scalp how he likes and now he's sittin in front of you, avoiding eye contact as he tries to hide the tent in his pants. "Not my fault Sugar- you know what that does to me!" It's even less work for Satoru, only havin to give him your signature bedroom eyes. He's immediately hard, trippin over his pants and underwear while he tries to take them off as he chases you to the bedroom. "Better come back- y/n! Bring my pussy back here, now!"

N = No: There just isn't many ways for you to gross your men out or turn them off. With that being said shit play and piss play isn't in the cards for you three. Like thanks, but no thanks! Well.. except that one time you told Satoru to stop as he bounced you on his dick, moaning out that you had to pee. He refused. Chalked it up to you gettin ready to squirt, like you were known to do from time to time. But Mr. Know It All was wrong and got wet the fuck up. His only response was to slam you down by your shoulders and creampie you with a loud pitiful whine. To this day he argues that you squirted. "Nice try. But not likely, sir." "Well.. Either way I'm fuckin." "You really are a fuckin freak, Toru."

O = Oral: Neither are stingy in the department. Both your boy's eyes light up like kids in a candy store when they get to eat you out. In part to satiate their own needs but also because of how much they know you enjoy it. Suguru waits with bated breath to hear yours catch when he holds your gaze and slowly sinks to his knees in front of you. Cums untouched the way you shudder as he nurses your nub, thick thighs squeezin his ears tight as hell. And Satoru's equally obsessed with the taste of you. The times you allow him to tie you up though.. It's a roll if the dice if he's gonna overstim you or not. Usin his mouth is his fave way to overwhelm you, big hands tuggin you back onto his swollen lips when you attempt to run from his talented tongue.

P = Pace: It's just depends on the mood. Chiiile.. Both of em are waaay too versatile to stick with a singular speed. One of the reasons why your guys sex life's so great is because of how spontaneous they are- in every way. Satoru especially, peepin your reactions; waitin till your nice and relaxed, gradually stroking in before pullin out, angling just right and fuckin in quicker than speedy gonzales. Drools how your fat jiggles from his sudden jarring thrusts. "Aww. Poor lil cry baby.. What's that, honey? Faster? Heh. Anything for you baby." Similarly Suguru will tease you too. Or just plain out ask you what your in the mood for. "So how you wanna doin this thang, mama? Want me to play nice or not? ... Oh yeah? Better cancel your plans then girl. Finna tear it up.."

Q = Quickie: Suguru's much better at em than Satoru. Makes sure you not to wrinkle your clothes if there's not enough time to strip you. And always asks where you want him to cum so it's not an inconvenience. "Ahhh fuck.. It's comin honey- where you want it? ... Inside? Ohhh thank fuck, here it is sweet girl. Take that shit.." But Satoru loves to ravish you so he turns his nose up at quickies. That's not to say his pussy whipped ass isn't gonna fuck but he always rolls his eyes and huffs in exasperation when you tell him to hurry up or becareful of your hair. "Fuckin hell, woman.. Would you shush up and lemme do my job while you do yours? Just sit pretty and take this dick like a good girl."

R = Risk: Satoru's always game to experiment when it comes to doin shit to you. A bit more reserved concerning you wantin to do somethin he considers to be 'psychotic'. "Oh come on Toru. Don't be a scaredy cat!" He stiffens, chiseled chest pokin out as he lays up all spread out on the bed with you in between his legs. "It's just a finger! You know you've done a lot worse to Sugu." Satoru sputters at you, arms crossin across his chest indignantly. "Whatever. I'm not saying no, I said go slow." "Ok, ok.. yeesh.. Big baby." You say the latter under your breath with a smirk. "Heard that shit, woman!" Now Suguru's just as cautious. And that's probably a good thing since you guys tend to test each others limitations. "Y/n, you can't be serious! You realize you're just gonna give the egomaniacal bastard another power trip, right?" He fumes at a silent grinning Satoru. "Please baby, it's for me. Forget he's even there. Focus on me, handsome." You advise him sweetly, gently pushin him to his knees. Finally givin Satoru the opportunity to force his dick between Suguru's dark blush lips. He does as you say, holding your adoring gaze, large palms settling on Satoru's narrow hips. "Thats it, just like that Sugu. Doin so well, don't even need any help." Satoru pants and groans, holdin the sides of Suguru's head as he eases in and out of his warm wet mouth, mentally noting the lack of a gag reflex. "Fuuuuck, she ain't lyin babe. You're a fuckin natural."

S = Stamina: You can get your men to cum multiple times during a session, both bein able to shoot about 3-4 nuts before the overstimulation is damn near crippling. Though on the norm, since you already have two big strong men to take care of, they let you off the hook with an orgasm each. Can't blame a girl for being good at doin the do! But to set the record straight, they can fuck way longer than you can take. You usually max out your stamina by the end of round 2. But neither ever mind. They just scoop you up and carry your fatigued frame to the shared bathroom. "My poor tired woman. Had to use the safe word.. Did so good for us though, mama. That right, Toru?" A nude half hard Satoru trails behind, feelin a smidge of guilt at your half conscience state. "Fuck yeah. You did 'mazin tonight, sweetheart. Don't worry, we'll take care of you now. ... And Sugu.. Maybe later.. You can finish takin care of me?" His tone pathetically hopeful. "For cryin out loud, horndog. Can we just get her cleaned up first? ... Then we'll, uh... We'll see what happens." The giddy bounce Satoru does in obvious anticipation as he runs your bath, lengthy cock now drippin and at full mass again, makes Suguru blush like a virgin.

T = Toys: Ofcourse y'all add a few toys to the mix every now and again. You prefer air pulsing vibrators instead of the extra intense devices that can be numbing. The boys love using em as foreplay, otherwise they're mainly for when you're alone. Satoru has a good size chest of shit- whips, nipple clamps, ball gags and even an unassembled sex swing. There's a bunch more and you haven't tried em all yet but can't wait. But you like to play and feign disinterest when he brings up his nasty lil box. They know better though. Suguru's not entirely experienced when it comes to this area but even he notices how much wetter you get when they use toys. And it's no problem when Satoru has to teach him how to use some of em on you cause he's a real quick learner. There's just somethin real naughty bout seein you cuffed to the spreader bar, sight never fails to get him impatient as hell. "Move Toru, needa fuck her first tonight." He breathes, rudely bumpin Satoru to the side with his shoulder. "Ok, ok. Geez, Sugu. Don't gott be a dick bout it. And try not to cum too quick this time." He chuckles at the blatant eagerness, but Suguru's not amused. "Quiet. Or I'll put you in the spreader and fuck you next." He's just talkin shit, already sinkin into your heat and forgetting bout Satoru's incessant taunting. So preoccupied with you that he misses the way Satoru's dick twitches as he gulps audibly, imagining Suguru's empty threat in his filthy mind.

U = Uncut: Satoru's circumcised with a lengthy cock. You often wonder if it's as long as his lanky body, how far it reaches inside, easily able to jam your poor gspot repeatedly if need be. He's got your throat trained real good without even tryin cause of how thick it is. But it just doesn't compare to the depth this man reaches inside you. He's got more veins than Suguru too. Your fave protrudes and twists round his base, beggin to be licked when he's fully hard. But Suguru's uncut, almost as extended as Satoru, though has a more girth to him. Takes him no time for his cock to rage red when he's been stiff for too long. Also spills alot more precum than Satoru. Loves when you pull the skin back and suck softly, effectively siphoning the clear fluid from his slit till he's nuttin a big fat load down your throat.

V = Volume: To this day you don't know why Suguru sometimes tries to bite his lips or fist to muffle the beautiful noises that slip out. His deep gruff grunts are so quiet, opting to tell you in words how good he feels or when he's bout to cum. It's something you work on, constantly reminding him there's no shame in voicing how good he feels. But when you put the pussy on him too good or he's too pent up, which is pretty often, he's less self conscious. Huffin and puffin against your moist mouth, lewd phrases tumbling from him nonstop. You're not even sure he knows what he's saying half the time. You're eventually inhaling his loud piteous moans into your mouth as he loses his mind in your lil puss. And of course we all know Satoru's a screamer. He never shuts the fuck anyway, so why would he do so in the bedroom? It's starts of with booming cries into your ear that eventually end up with wails of how good you feel echoing round the room. He's not doing it on purpose, but as soon as his mouth opens when he's in-between your thighs, you and your neighbors are definitely bout to hear an earful.

W = Wild Card: (Fucking to Music) It's something you initiated but Satoru was definitely wit it. Boys got more rythym in his hips than you and it should be fuckin illegal. You give him a list of your favorite love makin songs and he brings back a playlist, adding a few nasty songs of his own that got no business bein played anywhere but Functions. He's loves gettin you in missionary, rollin his hips into yours seductively as he matches the slow beat. An aroused sob rips from your chest out your mouth when he lessens the pace, singing the words quietly at your ear as he cages you to the bed. This is when Suguru's voyeurism kicks in, skin heatin up as lays in bed next to you guys; watchin your love making turn to frenzied fucking as the song changes, taking notes on how Satoru's tempo never strays from the flow of the music. Can't wait to show you what he can do next.

X = X-ray: Satoru likes to be ready for the pussy at drop of a dime so you're used to him goin commando most days but you are so not a fan.. Even when you tease him, tossin him a clean pair of Suguru's boxers and tellin him he's onna coochie restriction if he dont start wearin some damn drawers round here. "Fuck is that?" You scoff and put your hands on your shapely hips. "Means you aint gettin no pussy till you start wearin underwear, you lil hoe." He clutches his heart, feigning chest pains as you roll your eyes at his dramatics. "Don't play with me like that sweetheart. Guess you win.." You really don't though. The next time you yank down his bottoms, eyes wide before grippin your belly in hysterics at the fact that he's wearing a pair of your lacy panties. "Satoru!" You manage through your giggle fit but he only professes his innocence."What? I'm just doin what you told me to! Do I get the pussy now?" Suguru watches the reoccurring debacle in amusement, glad he has no issue with wearin his trusted snug black boxer briefs. You always make sure to give him extra big smooch when they're bout to leave the house, opting to ruffle Satoru's soft white hair instead as you try not grin at his pout. "What? Not my fault Sugu's a good boy that doesn't walk round in public slangin his dick print everywhere." Satoru huffs his disdain for Suguru's 'ass kissin', declaring him a teachers pet.

Y = Yearning: Between your two sex crazed men, their libido is very very high. It's to be expected since your guys attraction and chemistry has been on point since before you officially started dating. It really is like were made for one another. But if they're not specifically careful, they'll easily wear you out. It's unavoidable, you just turn them on too fuckin much. Suguru will even try to slake his desires by jerking off over your tired frame after they've fucked you into exhaustion. "Shit! 'S not enough, forgive me baby. Just need a lil more. Won't fuck you anymore, dont worry! Just need to feel you, my one and only girl." Rubs his cock all over your sweaty body cause his hand just doesn't compare to any part of your soft flawless mocha frame. Cums as he trace his dick across your stretch marks, moaning how pretty and perfect you are. "F-fuuuck.. So sorry, honey. Ahshit! Gonna let you rest, almost done. Just lemme- ohhh fuck, 'm cummin!" Satoru can't contain himself either, difference bein he doesn't even attempt to. Sometimes Suguru has to leave when he's still fuckin you, reminds Satoru that you might need a break soon on his way out but all he gets is a noncommitted hum. You try nudging at his abdomen, keening as he speeds his thrusts but Satoru only covers your mouth. Smile sinister as you scratch at his hand and push at his chest with wide eyes, muffled cries for Suguru goin unheard as your savior walks out the front door oblivious to your torture. Satoru fucks you even faster, fallin in love with your tight lil puss all over again. "Whose gonna save you now, y/n?"

Z = Zzz: Like previously mentioned, Satoru gets so drunk on your pussy it's written in the stars that he's driftin off soon as he nuts for the last time. Doesn't wanna squish his princess so will quickly turn you on your side or back, big dick still tucked deep inside as he drags you against his large warm body. "One sec.. Honey.. So tired, gonna.. get up inna.." Zzz. Suguru usually has to rectify the situation, pullin you from a whining Satoru or just plain smackin him. Loses all his patience if it's his turn to fuck. SLAP! "Ow! The fuck, Sugu?! What was that for?" He blinks rapidly, the nerve to actually be disoriented when he wasn't even supposed to be asleep! "Cause your in the way of my pussy, idiot. Don't pretend you ain't tackle me to the floor when it was your turn." Suguru replies, movin to smack him again. Now he of course he's just as tired as Satoru when he finishes. But only falls asleep right after if you decline aftercare. Snuggles up to the closest warm body and drifts into a peaceful slumber after a quick replay of the night's events in his weary mind.

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luveline · 5 months

Note

Jade! I was re reading your zombie au steve fics and I just love our bestie eddie and jealous steve in tbem so much:’) I would love to see more of their relationship love you!!!

love u ♡ steve zombie au. fem!reader

“Would you mind fucking off?” Steve asks.

Eddie tsks under his breath, “You know, this whole jealousy thing you have over me is kind of sexist.”

Steve could melt metal with the way he's feeling. “It's not sexism, I'm not jealous, and if I were, it wouldn't be over you, it would be of you.”

Eddie grins. “That's all you had to say, baby.”

You laugh but quickly stop, eyes darting to Steve's as you push Eddie away from you. It honestly makes it worse, not because you aren't allowed to sit with your (Steve shudders) friend, and not because it doesn't feel good to see you so quick to remove Eddie from your side, but because by doing so, you've proven to Steve that you are, in fact, aware of his jealousy.

“I'm not jealous!” Steve lies.

“And I'm not interested,” you say quickly. “Sorry.”

Eddie shrugs and sits right back next to you in the grass. He kind of has to, considering the knot he's trying to teach you to tie needs demonstration, but still. Steve hopes he ties the knot around one of his fingers and needs an emergency amputation.

“Jealousy is a horrible thing,” Eddie says, almost like he can hear Steve's thoughts. “Have you considered finding a friend for Y/N to be jealous of?”

“I already did that for a bit,” you say, squinting at the shoelace in your hand unhappily, “but then she made me cry and Steve bought me cherries and I didn't worry about it again.” Ah, Vanessa. Old camp, old friend, you told Steve she was making fun of you and he never looked her in the eye again.

He'd quite like it if you followed his lead, but Vanessa was a bully, and Eddie, to Steve's dismay, is a good friend.

“So what I'm hearing,” Eddie says, his grin audible, “is I get to make Steve cry.”

“Are you gonna–?” Steve asks you.

You sigh and shove Eddie away again. He actually pretends to fall onto his side in the grass. “This is really impeding my progress in becoming a knot tying expert, Stevie. Are you sure we can't kiss and have you get over it?”

Steve is jealous, but lots of the outward symptoms he shows are either from a want to be immature or just to make you laugh. He trusts you completely and doesn't think for a moment you'd ever, ever cheat. He even knows —deep down— that Eddie's a good guy who'd never do that to him. But it still rubs Steve just the tiniest bit the wrong way when he sees Eddie's pinkie finger brush yours as he corrects you, or your stupid matching coats.

You and Steve used to have matching coats until your sleeve tore on a branch. Steve decides he has a vendetta against trees, and then he takes a few calming breaths.

“How would us kissing help Steve get over it?”

“Not you!” you laugh.

Steve loves the sound so much he pretty much forgets what he's annoyed about. “Sound more disgusted,” he encourages cheerily.

“I'd never kiss him,” you say, tying the string around your two fingers and pulling the aglet through the loop you've made. Your wrinkled nose smooths as you check your knot against Eddie's, and then, in one of your cutest moments to date, you gasp and turn straight to Steve. “I did it!”

“What was I impeding again?” he asks.

You push your foot out with your over complicatedly tied laces and turn onto your thigh. He's a genius (he knows you better than he knows anyone, past or present, knows you better than he knows himself), anticipating your movement with his arm already out to welcome you for a victory hug. “Our laces will never need tying again,” you say.

“Except when you need to change your socks,” Eddie says.

Steve puts his middle finger up behind your back, nosing at your forehead. “You're amazing.”

You really want the hug. Your hands meet behind his back and your lips brush his throat as you press in close, his lovely girl; you don't know how lovely you are, how the exact details of your hug play out in his mind frame by frame. He's made a million mistakes and he still gets to have you.

You hug him and it's like the end of the world didn't happen.

Eddie scratches his scalp. “Harrington, not that I think you'd be into this, but I've been tying that knot for the last year, and nobody ever kissed me for it.”

“He hasn't kissed me,” you say.

“Don't stomp on a downed man,” Eddie says severely. Then, sweeter, “Just a quick one, Stevie.”

“A whole camp of people,” Steve says to you. “Any best friend you want. Hell, I'll share Robin.”

“You do share Robin,” you say, languishing in his hug much longer than he was expecting you to, your arms having curled tighter now around him with no signs of letting go.

Eddie Munson might have a crush on you. He might have a crush on Steve, too, or neither of you. The boy’s too jovial to tell. Steve will sleep better at night if he believes the latter though, so he marks the hug for your achievement with a kiss pressed softly to your forehead and decides for the hundredth time since you came here that he won't be jealous anymore. He has nothing to be scared of and he knows that, so why give Eddie a hard time.

Eddie smirks and closes his eyes. “M'waiting.”

Steve puts his arm over your shoulder. “And you'll wait more.” He turns to you, murmurs, “How about we go and find you something sweet?”

Eddie's lips part in disgust. “What kind of dirty talk is that?”

You stand and kick Eddie without force in the thigh. “Thank you for teaching me, Eddie. Same time tomorrow?”

Eddie drops his theatrics. “Sure. Let's do the next one Risky Business style.”

You pull Steve away by the hand. He thinks you sorta like that he's jealous, being the object of his attention and affection at all, so he says, “If you leave me for him I'm gonna let a bachelor take me out, and not for dinner.”

“A bachelor couldn't get its teeth through all this muscle,” you say, squeezing his arm.

Doesn't make a lick of sense, geeks only have to break the skin to get you, but it doesn't matter. “I love you,” he says happily.

You lean into his side heavily as you walk. “I love you, too. More, for sure.”

“Not a chance.”

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