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peachesofteal · 9 months

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Light On - single mom/neighbor fic Simon Riley/female reader - 18+ MDNI brief suggestive content, Christmas vibes (these characters do not celebrate Christmas religiously) 🎄 There'll be much mistltoeing / It's the most wonderful time of the year - for @glitterypirateduck's cod holiday challenge

"She's lovely." Laswell comments, standing at his shoulder in the living room.

"She is." He answers, but doesn't bother to look at her, too transfixed on you, watching the way you smile and laugh, champagne flute in one hand, baby in the other. Blood rushes through his body as he stares at you, marveling at how bloody good you look with the baby on your hip, and even though he knows it's an archaic mentality, he can't help but dream about giving you another. Kate gives him a smirk that he just barely catches from the corner of his eye, and he cuts her an exasperated look. "Excuse me."

"By all means."

He makes his way to your side where you're chatting with Gaz's date, Lily, wine colored velvet dress draped across your body, snug and silky across your skin. Your hair is done, styled differently, arranged on top of your head instead of your usual or pulled into something looser, shiny gold cuff curled around the top of your ear. You’re stunning, and his mind turns over, trying to determine if it’s okay or appropriate to tell you for the third time tonight that he’s obsessed with you, that he wants to get you home and worship you, wants to rip your dress off and ruin it. He wonders if you’ll let him take you home early, if you’ll be quiet for him when he bends you over the bed, if you’ll come on his cock all breathy and sweet with his name on your lips.

Emmaline sits embraced in nook of your elbow, white and green dress complemented by tiny, shiny, black shoes, babbling away at anyone who will look at her. She lights up when he steps closer, trying to tip out of your grasp towards his, discontent rising in her crumpled little brow when she can't break free.

"Hi." You beam, his hand finding the small of your back, Emmaline wriggling around to face him, leaning back with a big smile, knocking her head into his side. You roll your eyes at Lily. "I've become chopped liver to my own baby."

"Alright, sweet pea. C'mere then." He settles her on top of his forearm, chubby fist knotting into the collar of his shirt. "Let's give mama a break, eh?" You smile, relieved, reaching up for a kiss, tip toes stretching until he leans to meet you, and when you pull away, you give Emmaline one on her cheek, bright baby giggles echoing through the room. "We're going to see what the team is up to." He bounces her, and your thumb strokes a soft circle into his waist.

"Okay."

"There she is!" Gaz calls, and Emmaline squirms in Simon's grasp, pressing her face into his neck, head tilted just slightly so she can still see the guys, cheeks dimpled. She watches Kyle cautiously, incredibly shy, and Simon whispers to comfort her.

"What's wrong, baby girl? You're alright. It's just Gaz." She mouths at his shirt, and he smooths a hand over the back of her head softly. "She's not usually so reserved, loves attention."

"Ye're scaring her." Johnny admonishes as huffs, breath rolling in a fog through the chilled air, but when Simon turns, Emmaline whips around, peering over his shoulder to stare at Gaz, expression delighted.

"I don't think she's scared, Soap. Looks smitten to me." Johnny clucks his tongue, half outraged, and Gaz just laughs, stroking her cheek as she coos soft sweet nonsense towards him, making Johnny scowl.

“’m supposed tae be her favorite.” He grumbles, and Price barks out a laugh, clapping him on his back.

“Gotta get your own for that, son.” He shakes his head, reaching a finger out to her fist, letting her grab onto him. She immediately starts to drag it towards his mouth, and Price lets her, chuckling softly under his breath. “Needs something for her teeth.”

"I think we've got something in her bag." Simon rubs her back, watching how her eyes light up when she spots Price's beard, tiny fingers mindlessly drifting towards his chin. "Mama's been giving you frozen pacifiers, huh?"

"Ye should try scotch, my maw used tae give me some, when ah was a bairn." Johnny tickles his fingers across her side and she shrieks into a giggle fit, nearly choking on laughter that has him glowing with pride. "Who's yer favorite uncle, Emmaline? Is it Uncle Soap?" Johnny whispers in his best baby voice, and Simon snorts.

"She can't have scotch, MacTavish. She's a baby, and-"

"Alright out here?" You're standing in the door, half in, half out, teetering precariously on the top step, and for the hundredth time tonight you take Simon's breath away, light from the kitchen shimmering behind you like a halo, framing you in a soft, warm yellow glow, his stomach clenching.

"We're alright." He promises, already making his way towards the doorway, taking the stairs until you're within arms reach, Emmaline clapping her hands together when she spots you. "You okay?" He keeps his voice low, yet still tender, trying not to give the guys too much ammo, and you smile, spectacular and sweet, enough to make him melt on the spot.

"Yeah, just wanted to check on you two." You brush a finger across Emma's cheek, mouth opening to say something else when Johnny's voice rings across the patio, cheeky and smug.

"LT, ye're standın' under mistletoe." He hadn't noticed the cluster of greenery tacked to the bricked arch just outside the door, but it's hard to miss now, and when you glance above your head and laugh, he shrugs his shoulders. "Well..."

"Well?" You raise an eyebrow. A challenge. An invitation. Enough of both for him, encouragement not needed in the first place, his lips finding yours easily, pulling you into the bulk of his body, wrapping an arm around your waist while still holding Emma against his chest in the other. She bridges the gap between you, both of his girls safe and sheltered in his arms, and he blocks out the sound of Gaz and Johnny's shouting and whooping, focusing on the taste of your tongue, smell of your skin, plush lips against his. It's everything, you're everything, you and Emmaline- his family, his to love, to care for, to protect, emotion welling up in his chest that has him pulling away and pressing his nose against the top of your head, mouth finding your temple, your cheek, his eyes closed and breaths measured.

"Merry Christmas." He whispers, still holding you tight, and you dip forward to press a kiss to Emmaline's scalp, your hand reaching for his jaw, thumb reverently stroking across the scar on his cheek.

"Merry Christmas Simon."

#peaches writes #light on #simon riley #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #codholiday2023 #simon ghost riley x reader

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steddielations · 5 months

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- nsfw, age gap, rockstar Eddie, drummer steve

Eddie should not be wearing a plug here.

It’s stupid. It’s reckless. But that inner voice that led to decades of being stupid and reckless says it’s fine, it’s just for Eddie. Steve doesn’t have to know, unless he wants to find out.

It really is just for Eddie. It’s more for confidence than kink. It’s a trick he learned back when he was still getting comfortable on stage, back when he could still handle the fast life. Started way back when he was a teenager, dear old dad made sure to turn his talent into cold hard cash.

Now here Eddie is, way too many years of coping with drugs and never any therapy later, retired rockstar doing the whole studio owner mentoring baby rockstars thing. Someone’s gotta keep rock and roll alive so long as Eddie’s still kicking.

So the first thing that comes with years of being stone cold sober is realizing he spent too much time on the road and in the closet, not enough time growing roots so he’d have someone to settle down with when he stopped being so afraid of it.

The second thing is a dick that doesn’t work half the time because maybe if someone told him doing drugs would land him limp-dick at 40, he would’ve stopped sooner. The third thing is that he’s going to die alone with his floppy dick and trust issues.

So with the wild life Eddie lives nowadays, it’s no surprise that a couple smiles and smooth words from a good looking young drummer sent him into a spiral.

Steve’s a session musician, an independent guy that looked good on paper and even better in person. He’s got more heart and grit than the last few ‘frontmans’ Eddie tried to get something real out of. Steve knows it too, the way everyone does at 28.

He’s got the same cockiness in his skills as Eddie, but he knows he’s more than just his skills in a way that Eddie wishes he could’ve known at that age. He’s confident enough to make his own suggestions to Eddie, calls him old fashioned and he’s smooth about it, strikes up debates about music and he’s fucking sassy about it.

Eddie’s gotta be under some kinda spell to be considering Springsteen is one of the greats like Steve insists.

It’s not just because Steve’s younger, there’s always been girls much younger than late 20s trying to get with him for his name, status, money. Bless their hearts, maybe if he was still 20 years deep in the closet. It’s not just because Steve’s a guy either, there’s plenty of young guys now that dare to bat their eyes and call him Daddy and want to get fucked.

No, it’s because Steve’s different. The opposite, even.

Eddie slips up and calls him sweetheart once and it’s like Steve was just waiting to open that door and let every babe and handsome and honey slip out from his lips.

He notices Eddie checking out his biceps as he’s banging away on the drums once and sends him a wink that nearly makes him flatline.

He’s not intimidated to get in Eddie’s space. He has no reason to ever be in the control room, but Eddie doesn’t question it when Steve’s close, leaning over him with a warm hand pressed to the small of his back for one second. Eddie’s so hot faced and flustered that he gets his long hair caught in some of the board switches.

“Fuck, fucking, god damn it,” Eddie curses, tangling it even more trying to yank it free and vowing to chop it all off later.

“It’s alright, here, let's get you sorted out.” Steve’s steady hand closes over Eddie’s, gentle and warm as he eases the lock of hair free. Eddie’s breath lodges in his throat when Steve reaches up, fingers brushing Eddie’s face as he combs through his long silver streaked waves and says, “Don’t ever cut your hair. I love it too much.”

God. Steve makes Eddie feel like he’s a pretty young thing getting moves put on him in the kinda club that he was always too famous, too busy and too afraid to go to at that age.

It can’t be real. Steve can’t be serious. Eddie’s mean. Bitter. He talks shit about everyone and everything. He’s nothing without a guitar. He’s got the prickly rind of daddy issues and doesn’t even have Wayne to make it better anymore. The whole world adoring him all his life only fed his ego. He’s worth millions of dollars and feels like nothing most days. His only real friends are his bandmates that he doesn’t call often enough because they love each other, but they’re sick of each other, being stuck together all those years.

Surely, Steve’s just bored and playing with him. Eddie needs a kick of confidence to deal with it until Steve’s contract ends and he’s done playing with Eddie.

So that’s why Eddie’s got a plug up his ass at the studio. At work, technically.

It helps. It gives him all the inner fire he needs to ignore when he feels Steve’s eyes burning into him, and push his hand through his hair that Steve loves, and sway his hips as Steve’s gaze follows him walking out to the bathroom.

Oh yeah, Eddie’s still got it.

And he has to piss. Really bad. His bladder just ain’t what it used to be and when he’s gotta go, he’s gotta go and for whatever reason, he can’t do it with the plug inside him.

Eddie’s locked in a stall so he doesn’t hesitate to undo his belt and reach inside to pull it out. He holds it while he uses the toilet, so distracted sighing in relief like such an old man that he doesn’t realize how lube-slippery the thing is.

It’s too late. He drops his plug and it rolls out from under the stall just as the bathroom door opens and shuts slowly.

Then Eddie feels both relief and panic when it’s Steve’s voice that asks, “Eddie, did you drop something, honey?”

#no one look at me #the rest soon!!#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #subeddieweek #sub eddie week

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sordidmusings · 11 months

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Loose Lips (Buggy x Reader)

A/N: Fulfillment of this request! Thank you for making a request dear anon 💕 I really hope that it's what you wanted because it kind of grew into a whole thing 😬 also this is going to be this week's Thirsty Thursday!

@fanaticsnail brilliantly suggested this song for the fic!

Word Count: ~5.7k (~3.1k of smut 💀)

Warnings: Fem!afab!reader, NSWF very naughty indeed, praise, degredation, p in v, chop chop tomfoolery, overstimulation, creampie, dirty talk, dom!Buggy, jealous and heavily possessive Buggy, manhandling/forceful treatment, Gossip time with The Girls (probably ooc but let me have this), trashing your partner (he deserves it), allusions to gaslighting and emotional abuse, starts with humor then just needy but then devolves into lots of smut I promise 💀, some fluff at the end cuz I had to

~Come with me, and you'll be, in a world of endless perversion~

~ ~ ~ ••• ✦✦✦ ••• ~ ~ ~

Buggy had the most shit-eating grin, and it only grew wider with each word you said. He was sunk deep into his chair, feet thrown on the table in front of him, nursing his fifth beer. Taking another gulp, he eyed you over the rim of his tankard. You were only starting your third drink, but to his delight that was enough of a buzz for you to loosen up. Normally, you were quite the skittish little thing around him, and while it was cute he wanted to see and know more of you. He’s always been quite infatuated with you and wished that he had more time with you to sate his want for your presence (and to fuel his fantasies). Tonight, that wish was granted when you had seated yourself next to him instead of your normal drinking buddies on the crew. It may have been Mohji’s usual seat, but whatever you claimed in his presence was immediately yours to him. Mohji was also easy to convince with a warning glare and sharp nod to the chair beside Cabaji.

Speaking of your usual drinking buddies, one in particular had taken to giving Buggy quite the sour look. It only fed Buggy’s smugness more. He wasn’t exactly a fan of your boyfriend in the first place. His dislike was quickly turning into disdain as well with the picture you had been painting for him. It was filled with unappreciated gestures, expected caretaking with no reciprocation, and an absolute bulldozing of your emotions. Clearly, this man boy didn’t deserve you. Possibly not even a spot on the ship with how poorly he’d been treating Buggy’s favorite. That’s probably why said boy was looking so pissy and threatened over there in his corner with your friends. Buggy raised his drink in a sarcastic cheers to him while you were distracted with a joke Cabaji had made at your partner’s expense. When your chuckles tapered off, your face started to pinch with apprehension.

“I feel kind of bad. I mean, you’re his crew and captain and I’m just here bitching to you,” you lamented. Your eyes widened with a sudden thought and you groaned. “Oh no, I must sound like a bratty teen gossiping about their partner.”

“Sounds like you’ve already tried talking it out with him,” Cabaji said. At your shy nod, he continues, “Then fuck it - you gotta get it out.”

“I know, but it’s all so stupid and trivial.” You were hunching back into yourself, staring down at your fingers while they played with your glass in your lap. There’s a flick on your forehead, and your head darts up to see Buggy’s hand floating back to him.

“S’not stupid if you’re upset,” he asserts, much to your astonishment. Buggy always struck you as more of the “suck it up buttercup” type. Wait, he was; you’d seen him bark or laugh at pouting crew members more often than not. You had seen him give some comfort, too, but it was always for something inarguably large in scale. Unexpected sympathy from the torch you’ve held longest should have been enough for you to cheer back up, but the vicious fight you’d had with your partner this afternoon still had all your thoughts trending negative. The confrontation had been brewing for a long while, but knowing it was coming didn’t shield you from the hurt.

“Then it’s pathetic,” you argued. “I mean, only sad lovers in sappy plays cry themselves to sleep right?” You tried to play it off as a joke, but the laugh you used to chase it was hollow.

“You’ve been crying?” Mohji asked, worry showing in his face and voice. Next to him, Cabaji scowled and Buggy sat up straight, even placing his feet on the floor.

“Yeah but I’m just being dramatic; I’m a bit oversensitive,” you said, echoing the words your boyfriend had long worked into you.

“No,” Buggy bit out. “I’ve seen you stare down pirates twice your size, coming at you cussing and swinging. You passed the berating month when you got here, and that has had lesser pirates sob their way back off the ship. Hell, you’ve been stabbed and you were more concerned with your friends crying about it.” Buggy snorted and shook his head, distracting you with the way the blue hair swayed from his hat. His heavy leather boots plonked back on the table, rattling the cups and plates, and he shuffled back down into his seat. The look he gave you was bordering on offended. “You’re not dramatic or too sensitive.”

You think your heart may burst - did he really have such a strong opinion of your character? You may have sought Buggy’s presence out because you were upset and you feel protected around him, but you never would’ve dreamed that the outcome would feed your infatuation such a hefty meal.

“He’s been feeding you bullshit hasn’t he?” Cabaji butted in, tone full of contempt.

“He might have… been the one to tell me that first,” you answered hesitantly. Your brows furrowed. Did you really think that of yourself or had he thought it loud enough for the both of you? Was he the only one who thought it? You became stuck looking for answers in the dark liquid in your cup. Meanwhile, the looks Buggy gave your boyfriend had taken on a lot more accusation and threat than teasing.

“See now that’s pathetic,” Cabaji scoffed with a roll of his eyes. “A man who has to belittle his partner is no man at all.”

“Yeah, he’s probably scared ‘cause he knows half the crew would gun for you if you left him,” Mohji laughed. It got you to perk up a touch and giggle with him. Buggy’s hard expression eased at the sound and the sight of a genuine smile pressing at your cheeks.

“Ah, some actual attention would be nice,” you sighed wistfully. Your voice became bitter when you muttered, “Besides digs and requests for sex of course.” Buggy choked on his drink, causing him to pound on his chest in an attempt to recover quickly. The other two were hooting at both your partner’s and Buggy’s expense.

“He’s that bad that he has to beg for it?” Cabaji snarked gleefully.

“Unfortunately,” you grumbled, pouting into your drink. “I don’t really find him attractive anymore either.”

“Oh no, sweetcheeks,” Buggy admonished, “You should not put up with some manipulative brat who can’t even please you.” Beyond his distaste for seeing you upset and mistreated, his glee at the wedge between you and your partner left him feeling fluttery. He did have a small pit twisting in his gut though; why would you even go to him if you were barely attracted to one of his most handsome men?

“See, this is why you’re my favorite,” you sighed dreamily, smitten from hearing him send a pet name your way and from his persistent defense of you. Your words and the lovesick look you gave Buggy had him short circuit. He needed to grab at this train of thought and pull the whole thing from you.

“I’m your favorite?” Buggy rushed out. Cabaji and Mohji smirked at each other before looking back to see how this played out.

“Well, um, yeah it’s always been you,” you mumbled. Before you could stop it, your mouth kept moving. “I’ve always wanted you but felt stupid doing anything about it. You’re just really impressive with how well you run the ship and with your chop chop thing and how you don’t turn people away because they’re different and you’re always there for us when we really need you and also your hair is really pretty and you’ve taken really good care of me - um - all of us and you’re so strong and really hot doing like anything and I should-” you finally took a breath “-I should shut up.”

Buggy stared at you wide eyed, mouth agape. The duo next to him was trying to keep in their snickers and doing just an awful job of it. You took another gulp of your drink for something to do. Gods, you don’t think your face has ever felt so hot. You cleared your throat and said, “I think I should-”

“You’re breaking up with him,” Buggy told you. You blinked.

“I am?” you asked, not upset with the idea but confused at the sudden order.

“You are,” Buggy confirmed. His drink was placed on the table with a firm clunk, which his feet echoed on the floor. When he stood before you, you had to crane your neck up to see him with how he loomed into your space. His expression was one you’d never seen on him before; he looked ready to snatch you up and bite down. His sea-green eyes glimmered through the shadows cast across his face. He jerks his chin at the drink in your hand. “That’s your third right?”

“Yes, Captain, my um-” you gave an embarrassed smile “-my mouth gets affected far before everything else.”

“So you feel okay?” he checked one more time, eyes boring into your own and making you feel naked.

“Yes, Captain.”

“Good,” he started, leaning even more over you and placing his gloved hands on your cheeks. The fabric felt soft and warm and you found yourself leaning into it. “Then you are coming with me.”

Buggy stepped back, leaving his arms with you. One moved around your back and the other behind your knees. They lifted you up and brought you to him in one smooth motion. You still yelped without any jerking, bringing attention to yourself from many of the drinking pirates crammed below deck with you. Flustered, you hid your face in the soft fur lining his coat. Buggy turned to his two highest ranked men. He took in their shit-eating grins and sneered back, mostly in jest.

Buggy moved his look over at your group of friends and most importantly your (ex-)boyfriend. While your friends mostly looked confused (and one giving a thumbs up), the idiot of the hour was livid. Buggy smiled slow and wide, making his canines shine threateningly in the flickering lamplights, and he detached a hand just to flick his fingers in a cheeky wave.

“Cabaji. Mohji.” They straightened at his tone. “Let that one know he’s no longer on my crew and he figures out a way off the ship by tomorrow night or I’m throwing him overboard.”

“Aye, Captain!” They both cheered, tipping their drinks his way.

“Now,” Buggy said softly. He turned and began walking in long strides, expertly weaving through the passing plates, flailing arms, and spinning bodies of his merry band of misfits. The gentle bob and sway of being in his arms managed to settle your scrambling heart and mind, if only a bit. He paused when he reached the stairs to the upper deck. The cheek he leaned down onto the top of your head calmed you even further. “You’re coming with me to my cabin to make up for lost time. Okay?”

Your heart thudded strongly and pressed up at your throat. Your eyes burned. He was still checking in? To give yourself a moment to get rid of the lump in your throat, you turned your head and gave a few soft kisses to the base of his neck. Even through his cravat, the action made him shiver. Finally, you answered, “Yes, Captain Buggy.”

The flight up the stairs and to Buggy’s cabin was much swifter and more impatient. Both of you found yourselves thanking the Gods for his devil fruit abilities when they let him open the way without sacrificing his hold on you. He refused to release you until he was kicking his door shut behind him and tearing off his jacket. You took the time to admire the way the muscles in his arms moved as he threw off his hat. His upper body popped up and flew to you so his legs could work at toeing off his boots. You welcomed him to you with open arms and grasping fingers.

Buggy’s grip around you was demanding, one hand fisted in your hair and the other fisted in your shirt. You happily listened to their directions, pushing further into him and offering him your lips. His decorated eyes closed and his painted lips dove to feel yours, only to stop just a hair short.

“After this you’re mine.” His voice rumbled against your chest and his lips tickled against yours with each syllable. There was a jolt as his legs got back to his body, causing your lips to brush in the closest mimic of a kiss yet. You whined right against the brush of his red lips and pawed at the front of his shirt to ask for more. “Say it.”

“I’m yours, Captain.” The words were barely out of your mouth before he was stealing the breath from your lungs. The kiss immediately became open mouthed; he had needed to taste you since he set eyes on you and he had deprived himself of the chance long enough. It was full of dancing tongues, eager lips, and bumping noses and it was better than you had let yourself hope for.

“You have any idea how long that fucker kept you from me,” he growled. His arms kept you to him in the fervent kiss but his hands flew off to start undoing your pants. Their movements were jerky and rushed and the tugging at your pants made the garment rub pleasantly across your skin. Your body felt alive with the taste of his lips, the pressure of his arms and the pulling of his hands.

“You’ll never think of him again,” Buggy promised darkly between kisses, while his hands began harsh tugs to get your pants and underwear down. When you were stepping out of them, he finally moved back far enough from you to let his hands work on ripping your shirt over your head. Buggy’s lips were back on you before your hair even had time to settle back into place. He nipped your bottom lip and kissed his way to your ear. His hands were making quick work of your bra. “I’m going to replace every bit of his touch on your body with my own.”

Shivers trembled through your body at the feeling of his words being breathed into your ear. The tingling sensation bouncing under your skin only intensified when his hands wedged between your chests and began thumbing at your hardened nipples. While he started walking backwards to the bed, you set on undoing his too numerous belt buckles. You needed to feel his skin on you now. At your unhappy moan, Buggy had his hands help you.

“Impatient?” he teased. He got another whine for his answer. At last, all his belts were undone. The thick one from his waist thunked onto the floor and his shirt followed soon after, pushed off by hurried hands sweeping from pec over shoulder. You hummed at the feeling of his chest hair against your palm and his muscles flexing and moving in your grip. Your arms then wrapped behind his neck, pulling him in to feel his chest press to yours. You jumped at the unexpected feeling of his chest hair teasing at your nipples, making them send pleasant tingles across your skin. His arms wrapped around your waist to pull you in just as tightly, making you feel caged and at his mercy. Groping hands separated from his arms to work at the flesh of your hips and ass, the fabric of his gloves causing extra friction.

Buggy’s lips had made their way back to yours, trailing burning kisses and red paint, and his prodding tongue slid back through your parted lips. Your hurried fingers pulled the bandana from his head and scratched across his scalp, setting his hair free. Blue waves cascaded down to tickle your arms and sweep at your cheeks. Your hands broke through the curtain of his soft hair to rid him of his cravat. While your hands continue seeking ways to touch him, his hands left you to swiftly yank each glove off. When his touch came back to you, Buggy moaned loudly at the feeling of your bare, flushed skin under his fingers and palms.

His hands massaged their way down to the backs of your thighs. While he sat himself down on the bed, he used this grip to pull you into his lap. You shivered and moaned as your bare pussy finally got some friction against the leather of his pants. Even through the thick material, you could feel his length twitch against you. An iron grip clamped onto your hips and set the pace of your needy grinding. “Fuck, sweets, you’re gonna ruin my pants. That wet already?”

“Can’t help it,” you whined. “I’ve wanted you so long.” You emphasized your words by grinding down more firmly against him, sliding easily through your slick on the supple leather.

“Fuuuuck,” Buggy groaned low, throwing his head back at the sensations sparking through him with each push of your hips. He pressed back into you with more insistence. “Wanted to take more time with you, treasure, but you’re making it fucking hard.”

He used his chop chop powers to stay attached to you again, separating from his feet so he could float you two to the center of the bed. The weightlessness and tipping of your balance shot adrenaline through you and had your weight increasing the pressure of his hard on against your clit. You dragged nails down Buggy’s chest in your bid for stability, earning a grumbling moan from him.

You may have been the one on top of him, but it was clear from his controlling hands and commanding lips that he was the one in charge. You’d let him keep that power forever if it meant you kept getting to feel his touch tearing into you and taste his skin and tongue and teeth. The smell of your own arousal mixing with the hazy scent of him emanating from his body and sheets had your muscles turning liquid, save the ones helping your hips lure pleasure from his.

At the next drag of his hips across your cunt, you felt the pressure slide downward and leave you. Your thighs still felt his torso squeezed between them but the lack of support under your pelvis startled you and you began to pull back.

“No, no, sweet thing,” Buggy soothed, “Stay right here.” He trapped you to him with a hand to the back of your head and the other gripping the back of your shoulder. Your sense came back to you a little bit, reminding you of the chop chop fruit, and you relaxed slightly. Foggy eyes watched you as your muscles loosened and you eased back down for your mouths to meet again. The hand in your hair became a fist, urging you even closer, while the other disappeared. The feel of smearing makeup added to the delicious mess of the kiss, all wet lips and sliding tongues.

You slowly raised your hips up in the air, pressing your chest more firmly into his and relieving your thighs of the burn from keeping yourself hovered. Your elbows took the rest of your weight and your hands clung to Buggy’s shoulder and bicep. The air of the room sent a chill through you with how it contrasted to the wet heat you had presented. You weren’t chilled for long though; the draft of the room suddenly stopped reaching you and the bed dipped between your knees as a weight settled there. You felt knees nudging the inside of your own further apart and you happily let them, eagerly arching your cunt even higher.

“Such a good fucking girl,” Buggy growled against your lips. Warm skin met the back of your thighs then the plush of your ass. You let out chirping moans, muffled against his mouth, in burning joy when you felt the slide of his bare cock drag through your lips. “Such an eager little bitch for me; you ever go ass up for him?”

“No,” you panted. “N-no -hah- never, Captain.” Buggy nipped at your lips before he started his way down to your neck. You eagerly arched your chin up and out of the way, getting rewarded with a boiling hot lick across your pulse. Between his ravenous mouth and grinding hips, you were losing track of anything but the impulse to chase what feels good. And all of his touch ravaging over you felt so fucking good.

The way your hips circled back into his had Buggy losing his mind - he needed to grab at every piece of you, feel you under lips and tongue and teeth and nails, and he needed to feel your warm swollen walls wrapped around him. A thought occurred to him and his mouth flung to your ear.

“Has he ever fucked you raw?” It came out as more of an angry snarl than real words. “Did you let yourself be his little slut?” Hips pressed forward meanly, nearly lifting your knees off of the bed with how he was forcing you to arch. “Answer me.” A hand clamped onto your jaw. Fingers released your hair to dig into the sides of your neck.

“No, sir!” you gasped, delicious pain bringing you back some clarity.

“My perfect girl.” You felt the grumble of his voice vibrate from his chest to yours. Your jaw was released. The punishing pressure on your spine eased as Buggy backed off, only to use his free hand to guide your hips back into greedy grinds. You wanted his handprint marked there forever, and Buggy wouldn’t disappoint. The grip controlling your neck jerked you to look him in the eyes. They were blurry and black with lust, looking like they would be quenched by nothing less than swallowing you whole. “Waiting for your Captain to be the one in your cunt? Already knew that you’re my whore?” The clumsy huffs and moans of “yes” that spilled from your mouth went straight to Buggy’s cock, each one making it throb against you.

“Let me.” His knees pressed at yours and you spread even wider, opening up enough for your clit to constantly rub between the base of his cock and his heavy balls. “Gotta be inside you - own every part of you.” His dominating grip on your hip forced the long grinds into tight circles weighted on your clit. Buggy tugged you down in a quick, needy kiss, tasting the whines on your tongue. “Fuck, give it to me; be mine and I’ll fuck you like this every day, buy you anything you want, do anything you want.”

You were so close already, head buzzing from his rabid pleas and the restricting grip into the sides of your neck. Your heartbeat had moved to pound between your hips, matching the rhythm of his hips grinding into you. If it weren’t for his hand at your neck, your head would’ve lolled forward to leave you drooling against his chest.

Buggy’s detached hand slid over your ass to guide the head of his cock to press at your twitching entrance. The moment he was lined up, his hand flipped down to cup your mound and grind the heel of his palm over your swollen bud. His head stretched you wider than you’re used to and you were already tripping over the edge when you felt yourself pop over the rim of his tip. “Gods, fuck, sweets, you feel like heaven.” He kept sliding in, the stretch not easing as he worked you open. “Never -nnngh- leaving this cunt.” The forearm around your back forced you into his chest even harder. “Gonna tie you up and fuck you all day, shit!” His hips finally met yours, rooted right above the palm still massaging at you.

The first drag back, full of his mushroomed tip pulling at your clenching walls, was your favorite thing you’d ever felt. You could only manage its deliberate push and pull, ending with a shove you felt pressing through your stomach, three more times. “Yes -hahh- yes, y-yes -nnnnghaahh- yes, yes, yes yesyesyes”

Bright pleasure tore up your spine to explode in your head and fizzle out through your every muscle. Your eyes screwed shut, your feet kicked up to clench by your jolting hips, and your fingers dug and trembled into Buggy’s skin. You shoved your head down, forehead pressing into the sweaty side of Buggy’s neck, open mouth gasping out hot air and high pitched moans. Distantly, you heard him darkly muttering, “Fucking hell, good slut, goddamn you’re perfect -mmmmnnhh- my perfect girl.”

Buggy’s grip on you became bruising as he held off on cumming with you. He’d just barely got a taste of the squeeze of your cunt and he needed more. He’d grit his teeth in desperation when he felt you milking him so soon after he had adjusted to the blissful feeling of sinking into you. Now he was absolutely sure he was going to steal you away and keep you forever. He needed to feel your pleasure and desperation at his touch every second of every day for the rest of his life.

“Such a whore, so eager to cum for me,” Buggy praised. He was brushing your hair from your face with shaky fingers, guiding you back from your orgasm. He continued his steady thrusts into you but eased up on his palm when your body went limp. You looked absolutely pathetic slumped against him, ass held in the air still being used for his pleasure.

“That stupid boy ever get you to sound like that?” he goaded. The closest you got to giving a response was a breathy “nuh”. Buggy kissed at your hairline and began picking up the speed of his hips. “That’s what I thought. Now be a good pussy and milk me dry.”

Buggy’s thrusts became punishing and insistent, chasing the blissful pulsing clench of your cunt that he felt at the end of every full stroke. The heel of his palm jostled your clit with each slap of his hips against you, slipping easily against you from how much he had you dripping. Even so, your nerves burned in a way that was just slightly too much. You arched harder to try and lighten the sensation but that only angled your hips so that he hit his hand harder on each thrust. Every impact felt like an electric shock, knocking a high and breathy moan from you each time.

“Sounds so good, treasure, keep singing for me,” Buggy moaned, breath tickling the top of your ear. He wanted to slow himself down to hear you longer, taste you longer, feel the hot wet plush of your pussy forever, but he couldn’t control himself no matter how hard he tried. His body clung to and plunged into you, driven by uncontrolled instinct. He needed to grab and consume you until he couldn’t tell where you ended and he began. He’d finally admitted to himself how much he was dying to see and own all of you. Now he had you blissed out and pliant against him and he could no longer stand living without knowing the feeling of emptying his cock into you.

“Captain,” you hiccuped, “C-Captain Buggyyyyy, ‘s too much.” You tilted your head up to moan and bite at his neck, needing something to ground you. The salt and heat on your tongue cut through some of the blinding haze. Your fingers kept digging at him to find some kind of anchor in those slick, tensing muscles.

“You can do it, sweets,” he encouraged breathlessly. “Just -fuck- just be my good whore, just let me hahhhave my fill and I’ll -nnngah- help you rest.” You managed a weak “yes sir” between your moans and whines and Buggy’s hips managed to give you even more. Every nerve he touched inside you was scorching and screaming with the delicious friction and stretch of him pounding into you. Buggy felt the same searing bliss ripping through him, emptying his mind of everything but desire and possession.

Buggy groans, “So close! You’ve been soooooo fucking good for me, my perfect slut.” The hand at your neck had switched back into fisting your hair, so he could drag you up and moan right in your ear. The palm at your clit became a tightly circling thumb and your limp body jolted back to life, clawing, grinding, shaking, and gasping. “That’s fucking it, treasure, need you to cum again and -ahh- I’ll fill you up.”

You used whatever strength you had left to bounce back on his hips. Your used muscles were pounding and swollen, but the praising sounds and extra friction you got with each move had you never wanting to stop. You never knew how good it felt to be fucked hard enough for the force to ripple through the flesh of your ass and thighs and stomach and breasts and you’d do anything to keep feeling it. The crushing grip on your hip kept you steady any time you faltered from your trembling muscles and blanking mind. You don’t think you’ve ever felt like this, so completely insatiable, so deliciously overwhelmed, so voraciously claimed. The blazing signals shooting to your head from between your legs started to burn so bright that they were losing detail. That was until all four of Buggy’s fingers touched the very base of your stomach and pushed down hard.

“Buggy! Buggy! Buggy!” You kept yelping, and his eyes rolled back from the sheer ecstasy of hearing you like this. You were already tight, muscles clamping down hard and winding up for your orgasm but this… There was a firmer pressure with each stroke, especially when he knocked as deep into you as you could stretch, and he was drooling at the fact that his fingertips could feel him fuck himself into you.

“So good, holy shit -hahnngh- you feel so fucking good, treasure, gonna cum,” Buggy was beside himself panting and groaning out for you. His fraying voice became biting and fierce, rabid with need and absolute command. “Need you to cum - cum for your Captain.”

“Yes, sir, yessir please please,” you sobbed into his chest feeling so close but also already over the precipice and feeling everything and numbing out. Your body was going haywire with how good and how much everything felt and you needed something to hold onto.

“Good fucking girl, good -nnnngh- you’re mine, mine, mine-” Buggy’s voice was all gravel and possession and he chanted the only word he could manage when his balls pulled tight and his dick began to twitch. The clapping of his hips stopped, replaced with deep long grinds that had the weight of his jumping dick play with every inch of your walls and you were gone. You keened and sobbed out at the force of the feelings bursting through you and you could do nothing but quake in his grasp. The hot feeling of his cum pumping into you, cockhead tapping down at the push of his fingers on your stomach, had your eyes rolling back and your legs going limp.

Buggy was pretty sure he lost a minute or two there while he wasn’t able to think past hot, wet, and good. All he knew was that he finally got you and it was better than he ever imagined. His heart stuttered at the feeling of your panting breath cooling his chest and your sweet fingers clumsily trying to draw shapes on his skin. They kept falling limp between attempts due to the strength of your exhaustion, but you were adamant in your need to show him affection. His face split in a dopey grin. Buggy just knew you’d be the perfect little love and now you were his perfect little love. A smug snicker interrupted his heavy breaths from knowing he stole you away from that shithead, and he was going to make sure to pamper you so you’d stay and never have to cry to yourself again.

Buggy nudged you to the side so that your spine would get some relief from arching. He couldn’t have just let you straight down without your hips being forced down under the weight of his past the edge of his torso. You weren’t allowed to go far though; he felt as if he’d tear apart anything that interrupted all your skin to skin contact. You hummed deep in relief at the change in position and nuzzled your face into Buggy as thanks. He kissed his bright smile onto the top of your head and began massaging a hand into your lower back. This time you moaned at the relieving feeling, earning a chuckle from him.

“Better?” Buggy asked.

“So much,” you answered. Your eyes and muscles felt heavy and your bones were made of lead. Your breathing had become soft and slow and steady in tandem with his, beginning to draw you under with the promise of a fulfilling slumber. You managed to mumble, “Thank you, Captain,” before you were gone. A more lingering kiss was placed on your head this time. While your mind wasn’t there to receive it, your body felt it and shifted just that much closer into Buggy’s warmth.

Buggy sighed, thinking of the mess that the two of you and the bed were and how much work it’ll be to do the necessary cleaning up. A large problem was detaching you from himself and an even larger and more difficult one was mustering the will to remove himself from you. He gave in to the comfort of holding you, pulling a spare blanket from a basket across the room to lay over you both. Still in deep sleep, you hummed contentedly at the new comfort and warmth, melting Buggy’s heart further. He peppered a few more indulgent kisses onto your temple and hair before snuggling his cheek down into you. He’d decided a little nap wouldn’t hurt.

~ ~ ~ ••• ✦✦✦ ••• ~ ~ ~

#buggy x reader #buggy the clown #one piece #my writing #thirst hours #anon request #buggy x y/n #buggy x you #fem reader #afab reader #opla buggy x reader #opla buggy #buggy smut #x reader

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trulyumai · 2 months

Text

diverting your attention

pairing: carmy / reader

synopsis: bored, you show up to the restaurant, hoping to see your boyfriend and his infamous French fries that he only made for you.

warnings: cussing, light shoving. fluff mostly!

enjoy!

jesus, the restaurant was busy. a line ran out the door, swerved to the right and took up most of the sidewalk with customers waiting for their chance at the food.

carmy couldn’t blame them. he’s been on top of things— his team has been on top of things, listening, working together finally after what seemed like years of bickering and useless nonsense.

his hands moved fast. chopping meat there, seasoning and mashing over here.

there was no end, everyone had their station—their place.

“cus, your girls here!” richies voice boomed past him as carmy worked diligently to scrape away at the newfound mission to potatoes.

“uh huh,” not hearing him, but giving an answer he sliced the remainder of the vegetable before wiping his hands clean; always ready for a new task.

“Did you even fucking here me you dimwit?” A scowl remained on Richie’s face as he side eyed the white shirted man.

Another mumble left the cook and that was all Richie’s temper could take.

With a hard shove to the back, carmys attention was finally diverted. Turning back, the chef violently put his hand up from the startling touch.

“What the fuck, man?!”

“I. Said. Your. Girl. Is. Here.” With every pause on the intonations a poke found its way across carmys chest.

“Okay, okay. I fucking heard you.”

“No you didn’t!” Richie retaliated, moving past him to grab at the now chopped vegetable.

“And you took my fucking task you asshole.”

Carmy eyed him.

“Maybe if you weren’t so slow all the damn time.”

A high pitched version of carmys words came out as an argument, only making the man roll his eyes in such a childish play.

Rubbing his hands dry once more carmy moved towards the front of the kitchen.

And sure enough, there you sat.

all pretty and perfect and— did he say pretty?

sweating from a newfound nervousness carmy itched at his neck, a bad habit that he couldn’t seem to scrape away, no matter the amount of threats and glares you sent his way.

“hey pretty girl,” carmy stood just above you, next to your seated booth, more to the side and cut off from the rest of the avid enjoyers.

“bear!” you smiled, already opening your arms for a tight embrace.

he always smelled so good. musky, heavy. it was the manliest scent you’ve ever had the opportunity of smelling. yet there was always something sweeter there— cinnamon? no, cherries? possibly—

“baby?” warm fingers found their way under your chin, instantly bringing you back to the busy food chain your surrounded in.

“mmh, sorry hunny what was that?”

“i said I’ll be a little late tonight. more people showed up than i thought they would and uh, I’ll probably be pulling an all nighter.” guilt bit at the man’s tongue, already sensing your disappointment.

but you hid it well, a pretty smile lit up your face still, your hands met with his rougher one, smoothing and tending to it out of habit.

“that’s okay, i understand,” you looked past carmy to see Richie, motioning you to get the attention of the man.

noticing your distracted eyes, carmy turned his head and saw his cousin quickly motioning him over to the back.

“—I, i gotta go baby but listen,” eyes on your doe ones, he leaned in.

warm breath met with your cheeks and you couldn’t help but smile as the man bent down so close to your face.

“ill bring by those French fries you love so much,”

“with the seasoning?”

“with the seasoning.” carmy laughed

you couldn’t help but let out a little squeal, wrapping your arms around the neck of your boyfriends shirt.

“ill see you soon, okay?”

you nodded.

“okay.”

A kiss, light and soft was placed on your lips. It lasted only a second before the man waved sympathetically before turning his back to you, flipping Richie off in the process.

satisfied, you fled the scene with a hankering for a soda and heavily seasoned fries only your boyfriend could provide.

#the bear #the bear x reader #carmy berzatto #carmy #carmy the bear #carmy x reader #carmy x you #carmy berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto #tvshow #fanfiction #x reader #fluff #reader loves French fries #and her sweet smelling bf #Richie #richie jerimovich

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cindol · 13 days

Note

if ur requests are open can I request earthy black girl! reader x jjk men i love ur writing lots

jjk men and their earthy black gf !

jujutsu kaisen x black fem reader

incl — nanami kento , sukuna ryomen, gojo satoru, geto suguru and shiu kong .

cw + — established relationships, slightly suggestive with gojo, reader has locs, cult leader geto,

| NANAMI KENTO

he originally met you when saving you from a curse on your shoulder before it could develop and kill you in his usual bakery. It confused you when he tapped your shoulder and got you turning to him but he made up the excuse of swatting a fly away and ever since you developed a relationship with you.

Nanami’s favorite thing about you was how in touch you were with your roots and how you weren’t someone very big on technology, a simple tv and android does good for you and that’s just how he liked it with you.

Nanami's usual activity with you was to stroll through your garden with you just picking any fruit or veggie and in season flowers.

You always refuse to let him go without a meal after work. You always saw how drained he looked after work and tutted at that while prepping to cook.

“aye, just stay there baby. You’re crazy if you think I’ll let my boyfriend just go to bed without a meal.” saying it while getting ready to chop up some veggies and greens for a soup.

Your relationship with plants is what impressed, hearing you coo and sing at your venus flytrap while plopping a bug into it’s trapping mouth made him curious and intrigued.

“if you don’t mind me asking dear, what makes you sing to it?”

you were still humming while feeding the plant their bug of the day then stopped to answer.“a venus plant is a living thing, kento and living beings need some love and words of encouragement to grow, don't cha’ think?”

| SUKUNA RYOMEN

sukuna’s old school, always has been and always will be so your earthy nature wasn’t something he was bothered by. How natural you were with everything you did reminded him of his childhood in a way, always seeing his mother in their garden.

As earthy as you are he refused to let you garden in dirty gloves, he actually scoffed in disbelief seeing you in the gloves.” you needed a new pair of gloves you could’ve really told me woman.’’

You abruptly stopped to chuckle at your boyfriend.’’i’m not a materialistic person ‘kuna, these gloves of mine have done just their job for years.’’

Anything you say goes out one ear and the other for him.”nonsense, i refuse to have you garden in those unruly gloves, i’ll call uraume to pick up a pair of gardening gloves the nearest store i’m sure they won’t mind.’’

sukuna likes to see you in your most natural state. You liked to do some little glam, a little eyelashes and lip gloss but he liked when you were all natural. To him, seeing your brunette colored locs in a ponytail and you in your dark green robe showing some cleavage was his favorite sight of you when you entered the kitchen.

sukuna not being careful of his own health doesn’t slide around him. a simple cough or wound makes you immediately take any herbs and first aid kit out.

“uraume won’t be here always to take care of you ‘kuna, you gotta let me take care of you.”

when you try to put an evil eye necklace around his necklace a loud roar of laughter comes from his mouth.“No damn necklace will protect me of all people from any bad spirit.”

| SATORU GOJO

After a long day with his students he enjoyed being with you. When he enters your house you shush up whatever ranting he’s gonna ramble about the elders.

“Let's just forget all of that, yeah? I think a nice fresh water bath would do you some good today.” whilst shutting him up and taking off his black blindfold.

gojo enjoyed bathing with you just to have a front row to see how you untie your locs and see them drop down to your back along with your towel to show your….assets.

gojo liked how natural you were down to your hair. When he asked for you to dye your hair the same color as his he was excited to see your once brown locs now a snow white color in your black headwrap.

“thought hair dye went against like, the earthy thing?”

a small tittering sound came from your mouth at that.“Henna hair dye. The earth has many resources satoru.”

| SUGURU GETO

suguru appreciates how down to earth you are, he sees it as a good influence on his girls. Being a cult leader can be taxing and takes up much of his time so when you’re around to remind them they’re not so alone when geto’s on cult leader duties it makes him happy.

when you both are alone in his master bedroom hearing how you spent the day with the girls picking tender plump fruits from the family garden and putting them into your hand made wooden baskets to bring home.

geto isn't one to restrict how you choose to dress. He’ll gladly wear his yukata with a gold kasaya garment while you walk around the place in a strapless knitted olive green dress and knitted white long sweater, and whoever has an issue with it can take it up with him

#jjk x black reader #jjk x black y/n #jjk x black!fem reader #jjk x reader fluff #jjk x y/n #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x black reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen headcanons #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk x fem!reader

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bearrrrrrr7 · 3 months

Text

perfect

Haven't posted anything in like, 8 years? Got inspired today. goodbye. (don't even remember how this shirt works lmaooo)

“yo , Syd!” Carmy calls from his office. He has a hangnail he’s been chewing on. Mostly nerves, he thinks. Also because it fucking hurts. If he starts bleeding his wife is gonna kill him.

“‘Sup, Carm?” She pushes her way through the door and peaks her head in, “Yeah?”

“Uh, next week, on like-” he checks his phone for the date again, “wednesday, yeah Wednesday, I’m gonna be out. Gonna need you to take over until like-Monday, I think? You can call me, just won’t be in.”

Syd scrunches her eyebrow “uh, no-yeah that’s fine, for sure. Just like - why? Are you okay? You don’t normally, like, spring this shit on me.” She fully enters his office at this point. Arms are crossed, not in an annoyed way, more so because the giant fan in his office is directly pointing at her.

“No yeah, uh, fine.” He coughs into his shoulder. He shouldn’t feel awkward about this, he’s a fully grown man with two baby girls and a beautiful wife. “Just a procedure, medical, uh, procedure I gotta get done on Wednesday. They told me not to be on my feet too much for the next couple days.” He’s not making eye contact with Syd, fully focused on color coordinating the highlighters in his desk.

“Procedure? Dude, what? Are you fucking okay?” Syd asks, walking a little closer to him. She has half the nerve to put the back of her hand to his forehead.

“Yes, Syd. Jesus. I’m fuckin’ fine okay? I mean it, just - like, could you make sure this shit doesn’t burn down while I’m gone?” He runs his hand through his curls. He needs a cigarette. He tries to picture your disappointed face so he doesn’t reach for his emergency pack.

“Yo, Syd!” Syd and Carmy both whip their heads to the door, it’s Richie. With a shit eating grin on his face.

“What, Richie?” Syd scoffs. “Were you invited here or did you just decide to insert yourself?”

“Insert myself. Anyways, just so you don’t pop a blood vessel, Carm’s getting surgery to he can fuck his wife without protection. Don’t worry, sweetheart, he’s gonna be juuuuuust fine” he says, winking, stupid fucking grin still on his face.

“Jesus, Richie” Carm and Syd both say at the same time. Carmy has his head in his hands. “Don’t listen to ‘im.” Carmy finally says. “I mean - yes. I am getting, you know, uhm, that. Vasectomy. But like - that wasn’t the main reaso-”

“Hey Carmy?” Syd interrupts him.

“Mm?”

“Good luck on your procedure on Wednesday and I’ll see you Monday, okay?”

“Thank you, Chef” Carmy breathes out a laugh. Syd laughs too. “Fuckin’ Richie” he says.

“Fuckin’ Richie” Syd agrees.

Carmy shows up to the house 3 hours later. Apparently everyone in the bear had heard Richie’s loud fucking announcement about his surgery. His hangnail did start bleeding but he found a paw patrol bandaid in the backseat of his car.

He hears laughter once he reaches the back door, he smiles to himself.

“Where are my cubs?” He yells as soon as he gets through the door. He hears screaming and giggling and a jumble of “Me! I here, daddy!” and before he can get a good glimpse of them he has tiny, chunky arms wrapped around his neck.

“Where’s mama bear’s love? She chopped liver, or what?” You come into the doorway. Your hair’s a bit disheveled. You have tiny, blue and white plaid shorts on with a shirt that has so many stains on it you might as well consider it tie-dye. You have marinara sauce on your right cheek. You’re so fuckin’ pretty, he thinks.

“Hi, sweetheart” he says. He gets up from his crouched position, two tiny toddlers hanging around his neck. He kisses you, takes his thumb and wipes that tiny bit of marinara sauce off your cheek. You look at his bandaid and give him a look. “Couldn’t help it” he says.

After dinner, after the girls’ bath, after three different stories, after a small glass of wine each and a rewatch of something neither of you know the name of, you rest your head on his shoulders.

“How are you feeling about it?” You ask.

“What?” he asks. His eyes started to close a bit, he’s not fully sure he heard your question.

“About the snip” you say, giggling a bit.

He snorts, “you 10-years-old?”

“I mean it, Carm! Be honest!” You say, you lightly slap his arm, settling right back into him after.

“Jesus, woman.” He laughs “Uhm, I mean, good? Like this, like right here - uh, you and me, and my two cubs, my Ellie and my Charlie, my beautiful wife, this is it, you know? I just feel like our life right now is perfect. And you have done everything - so much for me. For the girls. So I’m good, I’m happy to do this. I wanna keep this, just this. This is perfect.”

#carmy berzatto #carmy the bear #carmy x reader #carmen berzatto #carmy berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto fanfiction #carmy berzatto x you #carmy berzatto x female reader #carmy berzatto x imagine #carmen berzatto x reader

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mentally-a-slut · 5 months

Text

Staring Problem (Arthur Morgan x Fem!Reader)

Rating: M (a little spicy, nothing too bad)

Summary: An innocent staring problem evolves into something out of your most romantic fantasies.

Note: Okay, so I just whipped this up to show y'all what my writing would look like, it's really last minute and unedited so don't expect too much, but I hope you like it! It's a little messy because I just kinda started writing with no real idea, but please leave feedback! Also, if enough people want it, I am open to doing a smutty part two :) enjoy!

You hadn't thought you were being obvious with your staring, but were very quickly proved wrong when Mary-Beth slid up next to you, giggling. "Enjoyin' the show?"

You spluttered and blushed at the young woman's implication, lightly shoving her. "I'm not staring!"

She giggled again and gave you a look. "I don't blame you, I do it all the time. Nothing better to do than watch the men chop wood, especially if I'm supposed to be doing chores."

"Mary-Beth! Where is that girl?"

Mary-Beth gasped. "Oops! Gotta go!"

She scuttled off back to her table, frantically fiddling with the needle and thread to make it look like she was sewing. You sighed as you tore your gaze from her, eyes settling back on the man in front of you.

Of course, you were staring. Pretty damn hard, too. But hey, when Arthur Morgan is swinging an axe in the blazing sun, sleeves bunched up around his elbows, you just have to stare.

You knew you should at least be more subtle about it, instead of standing there uselessly leaning on a wagon, but whenever your eyes snagged on him, it was almost impossible to tear them away.

You'd lost all shame anyway, ever since he sort of confronted you about your crush. It had been an awkward conversation, one filled with stuttering and apologies. He hadn't expressed any discomfort, though, and simply acknowledged the fact that you liked to stare. He didn't outright reject you, but you knew better than to read into things. And even if he wasn't interested, who were you to deny yourself a show if he didn't mind giving one?

You only tore your gaze away when you heard Miss Grimshaw turning the corner, and you hurriedly tried to look busy. It usually worked, and you were back to staring as soon as she was out of sight.

You inwardly sighed when he sent the axe splitting through the last log. Show's over.

Even as he leaned the axe against the stump and turned to leave, you couldn't avert your gaze. The light was hitting him just right, golden rays bathing his tanned skin and making him look like an angel. Your face burned when he turned and met your gaze, and he simply tipped his hat with a smile. Sometimes you wished he would straight up say something about it instead of letting you ogle him. The heat that rushed to your face every time you were caught was stifling.

You had to resist the urge to follow him and see what he was getting up to next, instead settling on joining Mary-Beth. She looked up at you with a teasing smirk when you sat down, glancing behind you at the man who held your attention. "Show's over, huh?"

You rolled your eyes, sighing. "...Yeah."

She burst into giggled at your confession, dainty fingers going up to cover her mouth. "What's so funny?"

You started at his voice, the closeness of it surprising you. You turned to look at him, craning your neck to meet his eyes. You could've sworn there was a knowing smirk on his lips, but you chalked it up to the sun in your eyes. Even though you were facing away from the sun.

"Nothing!" you said too quickly.

"We was just talking about how she was staring at you chopping that wood."

You whipped your stare around to Mary-Beth. She just giggled and shrugged, acting innocent. "I- I wasn't-"

"S'alright, I know you were."

His words only made you want to shrink into yourself, never to see the light of day again. Mary-Beth took her leave, teasingly waving goodbye. She had just left you alone, with Arthur, a blushing mess.

"I don't- you-"

You all but yelped when he sat next to you on the log bench, close enough for your legs to brush. "If I didn't like it, I wouldn't let you do it."

"I didn't mean to stare!"

He chuckled, a low noise that traveled through your body and left goosebumps in its wake. "Yeah, you did."

You tried to come up with a valid explanation that wasn't 'I think you're really hot,' but came up short. "I'm sorry, I-"

"No need. I think it's cute, your little staring problem."

You didn't think you could blush anymore, but there he went, making you lightheaded with his words. "You... me, cute?"

His eyes met yours, and you had to stop yourself from swooning. His eyes were so blue, like shining crystals in the sunlight. "Yes, you. I thought it was obvious."

"What was obvious?"

He rolled his eyes affectionately, calloused hand brushing against yours. "That I'm sweet on you."

All coherent thought disappeared from your brain at that moment. "Huh?"

Your skin tingled as his hand grasped yours, rough fingers intertwining with yours. "I like you, sweetheart."

"Is this a joke?"

He chuckled. "No. I know I didn't really go about it right before, but what I meant to say was that I feel the same. It just... didn't come out right."

Your whole body was on fire, overwhelmed at the feeling of him so close to you. "So... you've liked me back, this whole time?"

"Mhm."

"Oh. That's... good."

"Just good?"

Your eyes found his, shining with emotion. "You know what I mean. I just can't believe..."

He stared at you, eyes shining with what must have been admiration. With his hand still holding yours, he stood, tugging you with him. "C'mere."

You stumbled after him, too awestruck to think. He led you to the spot you liked to stare at him from, the wagon obscuring the two of you from the rest of camp. Your back was to the wagon, his frame towering over you and he stood in front of you. He was close, close enough for you to lean forward and be chest to chest.

"When you stand here all clueless, drooling over me like nobody's watching," the hand that wasn't holding yours came up to rest against your cheek, "I have to force myself to keep working and not march over to you and kiss you til you can't breath."

You let out a strangled sound, breath hitching as he leaned closer. You were now trapped against the wagon, his body resting against yours. It was the best trap you'd ever been caught in.

"And when you look at me with those big, lovestruck eyes, I just wanna grab onto you and never let go."

A sigh that sounded more like a whine escaped your lips, knees threatening to give out beneath you. "Keep going."

He chuckled at your words, brushing his lips so, so close to yours.

"When you're concentrating on something, and you make those cute little noises, all I can think about is how I wanna bend you over and see what pretty little sounds I can get out of you."

"Holy shit," you whispered, eyes fluttering as his lips barely brushed against yours.

With a shaky sigh, you grabbed his collar and pulled him toward you, crashing your lips together. He let go of your hand, gripping your waist and holding you close. His lips were warm against yours, gently molding against yours. You brought a hand up to his hair, running your fingers through his short strands. An involuntary whine slipped from your lips, and it was swallowed by his increasingly desperate kiss. His hand slowly moved to your back, pressing you closer.

When his tongue brushed against your lip, you gasped, and he hummed against you as he slipped his tongue into your mouth. You recovered quickly, meeting his tongue with yours with matching desperation. Your fingers closed in his hair, tugging lightly. He groaned softly, and the sound traveled straight to your core.

When he pulled back for air, he kept his face close to yours, blue eyes darkened as he looked down at you. "You're so pretty like this, all whiny and desperate."

His praise elicited another whine from your lips and you pulled him back against your lips. This time he kept pulling away from you in between kisses, chuckling as you chased after him. He mumbled soft words against your lips, each one making you want him more and more.

"Pretty girl."

"So good for me."

"So needy."

You whined in frustration and kissed him roughly, hands running over his body. When his hands ran over your ass and gripped your thighs tightly, you jumped up and he pressed you up against the wagon. The angle was torture, your core level with his, and the heat of your arousal was overwhelming. Your hips struggled to meet his, seeking the friction you craved, but Arthur just chuckled against your lips and held you still. "Not yet, darlin'."

You would have been embarrassed by the whine you let out if you weren't clouded with lust. You continued to wriggle against his grip, whining as he tortured you with slow, passionate kisses.

"Arthur!"

He pulled back with a groan when someone called his name, his forehead resting against yours. "Yeah?"

"Got a job for you!"

He sighed. "Be right there!"

You sighed and let your head fall against his shoulder. "I'm sorry, baby."

You hid your face in his neck, trying to hide the blush his words caused. "S'okay."

He gently set you down, hands settling on your waist. He lifted your face to his, pressing a sweet kiss to your lips. When your eyes fluttered open, you were met with his darkened eyes that held a promise for things to come.

"We'll finish this later."

#rdr2 x reader #arthur morgan x reader #red dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan #smut #red dead redemption two #red dead redemption 2 smut #rdr2 smut #one shot #arthur morgan smut #x reader #fem!reader #x reader smut #azi's creations

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hazelnutsforellie · 2 years

Text

STRAWBERRIES & CREAM | E. WILLIAMS ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

PAIRING— farm!ellie williams x fem!reader

SUMMARY— what's better than breakfast in bed? ellie might have an idea...

WARNINGS— smut [18+], language, fluff, established relationship, ellie cooking for you, switch!ellie, switch!reader, fingering (r rec), oral sex (e rec), pet names (pretty girl, baby, etc.), overstim, praise, hair pulling, dirty talk, etc.

WC— 4.2k

AUTHOR'S NOTE— switch!ellie was not supposed to make an appearance but i couldn't help myself halfway through lmao. special ty to jen & bindi for helping me finish this xx

MDNI | MATURE CONTENT AHEAD

Light humming sounds pulled you from your groggy daydream as you made your way out of your bedroom, causing you to pay more attention to where the sound was coming from.

A gentle smile tugged the corners of your lips as the sweet smell of freshly griddled pancakes evaded your senses. The wooden floorboards noisily creaked beneath your feet, though they could not overpower the frying noises from the kitchen.

You groggily wiped your eyes, surprised that you did not wake up when your girlfriend left your shared bed, leaving you tucked into the cozy comforters. She had managed to carefully creep out of the bedroom in an attempt to surprise you with breakfast in bed, but the smell woke you before she could complete it.

Ellie cooking for you wasn't a daily occurrence, though it wasn’t rare either. Since Ellie was frequently busy with outdoor work, or other crafts, you had taken on the cooking role. Because of this, Ellie often feels guilty and takes it upon herself to cook for you, despite you having no problem with it. You often teach each other tips and tricks that you've learned from others and various cookbooks when you would cook together, and Ellie would make sure to pay attention every single time.

The hums grew louder as you made your way through the dining room, toward the kitchen. Your shadow pierced through the rays of sunlight pushing through the various windows of your farmhouse, the early morning sun soaking into the wooden floorboards.

As you got closer to the kitchen, you glanced through the window above the sink and noticed that Ellie had already herded the sheep into the barn, the empty grass blowing freely along with the wind.

Upon fully turning the corner, you spotted Ellie rummaging through the cabinets above the counter, clearly searching for something in particular. Her eyes were franticly darting from side to side, her sleeves being rolled up just past her forearm. Her toned arm flexed as she reached into the cabinet while she held a kitchen towel in her left hand, bottles and glasses clinking together as she searched. She looked as if she'd already showered, and had managed to get dressed without you waking up.

"No syrup? You gotta be fucking me right now," Ellie uttered to herself in annoyance before sighing in defeat, closing the wooden pantry doors shut. She flung the hand towel over her right shoulder and made her way toward the fridge, pulling the door open to search for a replacement.

Upon reaching into the fridge, she pulled out a bowl of strawberries that you had picked up from Jackson not too long ago. They were already washed and cut, bringing a smile to Ellie's lips. She then placed the bowl on the counter before pulling out a sauce pan, placing it on the stove beside the pan full of pancake batter.

“Ellie?” you murmured, lightly groaning from your aching muscles. Your life was in the best position it could be, retired on a farm with your long-term girlfriend, along with your animals. Living with your girlfriend had its perks, many perks. Day and night. Your sex drive was just as bad as Ellie’s, and the amount of free time that you have doesn’t help. Because of this, you often woke up with tender muscles.

You heard a faint gasp in response, seeming to catch Ellie off guard. Her head whipped in your direction as she continued to drop the chopped strawberries into the sauce pan on the stove, her eyes glistening in excitement to see you despite her surprise being tainted.

“G’morning, babe,” Ellie replied with a gentle smile, enough to crinkle the skin of her eyelids. You stepped toward her as she simultaneously turned toward you, her hands finding your waist the closer you got. "Sleep well?"

“Mhm, I could smell it. Couldn't wait any longer,” you said, nodding toward the food with a smile while you wrapped your arms around the back of her neck, leaning up to meet her lips in a chaste kiss before she placed another on your forehead. She turned toward the stove to tend to the pancakes, you arms finding their way around her waist from behind. You leaned into her, smelling her scent that made your stomach do somersaults as you nuzzled your cheek on the back of her brown button up.

“Well, can we still eat it in bed? I really want to eat it in bed,” Ellie repeated as she slightly twisted her neck to see you, not wanting her plan to go completely to waste. You weren't sure why Ellie saw a point in getting dressed, but then again, she did go outside and do her morning tasks.

You nodded against her back, soaking in her warmth, causing Ellie to smile to herself. She enjoyed the feeling of your arms wrapped around her form like you were nearly holding onto her. She loved how affectionate you were, constantly craving your touch.

You heard the faint plop of each pancake as Ellie flipped them, followed by the sizzling of the butter, insinuating that they were nearly finished. You shifted along with Ellie as she stepped over to work on the strawberry topping, watching her break the fruit apart with a wooden spoon inside the pot.

"Is there anything I can help with?" you asked as you released your grip around her waist, even though you already knew the answer.

"No, just relax," Ellie waved you off, making you chuckle as you made your way out of the kitchen, to the bathroom to brush your teeth and fix yourself. Even though you were about to get right back in bed, you didn't want to feel gross.

When you finished, you could hear faint sounds of tweeting birds and Ellie's mumbling as you made your way back to the kitchen. As expected, you spotted Ellie at the stove with the kitchen towel remaining draped over her right shoulder, still stirring the strawberries in the sauce pot. They were finally turning out how she wanted, bringing a smile to her lips.

When you walked in the first time, you didn't notice that the counter beside the stove was littered with cooking materials and ingredients, assuming that you were too tired to regard it.

“You wanna head out to Jackson later?" you offered with a tilt of your head, merely suggesting it. You didn't need anything in particular, but you didn't want her feeling cooped up after staying home for a few days. Ellie enjoyed farm life- the quiet, the peace. Not to say Jackson wasn't peaceful, but for Ellie, there was a significant difference. "Or, we could just... entertain ourselves. That's always fun, right?"

You realized that the pancakes were nearly finished, all but one resting on a plate on the counter beside the stove, closest to you. Your light, dirty joke caused a gentle chuckle to erupt from Ellie's throat as she flipped the last pancake onto the plate.

"We'll see how we're feeling after we eat," Ellie finally answered, hiding a smug smile.

Your eyes followed Ellie's movements as she dropped the last pancake onto the plate in front of you. On impulse, and because you were hungry, you reached down to grab the one she dropped, your eyebrows raising in anticipation to taste it.

"No, stop," Ellie said as she softly but quickly smacked your hand away. You looked up at her with a bewildered expression, meeting her sincere eyes before she added, "It's hot."

You playfully rolled your eyes despite a smile remaining on your lips, your hand faltering back to your side. Ellie then dipped her pointer and middle finger into the strawberry sauce before tasting it off her middle finger, softly humming in satisfaction.

"Mm. Here, taste this," she said, offering you her pointer finger to taste it.

"Oh, but that isn't?" you joked in a sarcastic tone about it being hot, making her scoff. She glanced over at the strawberry sauce that continued to softly boil in the pot before looking back at you.

"Shut up," she shot back, a smile tugging on the corner of her lips as she brought her finger closer to your face. "C'mon, it's not."

You quirked an accusing brow at her before reluctantly parting your lips, your eyes falling on her fingertip as it approached your mouth. You willingly accepted it between your lips, sucking it clean as you held eye contact with her, fully aware of how it was going to end. Ellie carefully watched your facial expression, hiding a smirk as you smiled in approval.

The sweet, tangy fruit caused a hum of satisfaction to bubble in your throat, your eyes fluttering closed as Ellie slowly pulled her finger back, feeling the way your lips were firmly wrapped around it as she pulled away.

Something, you weren't sure what, clouded over Ellie's eyes. Her expression barely changed, but you could see the difference in the way she was looking at you. Her eyes seemed darker, colder, hungrier. A touch as simple as your tongue had Ellie's stomach doing somersaults, and suddenly she had completely forgotten why she was in the kitchen in the first place. You could hear the faint click of the stove being turned off, the knob being twisted by Ellie’s other hand.

"Ellie?" you quirked a brow as Ellie's hands suddenly found your waist, pushing you past the stove so she could ease your lower back against the edge of the counter. A smile threatened to tug on your lips as Ellie's head dipped to press rough, sloppy kisses on the gentle skin of your neck. You could hear the shuffling of Ellie’s mess on the counter behind you as she shoved everything to the side, making space for you.

“What?” Ellie innocently shot back with furrowed brows as she pulled away from your neck, her hands finding their way onto the edge of the counter on your sides to corner you, her chest nearly pressing into yours. A smile began to crack her straight face, realizing that she had quite literally done such acts on impulse, her high sex drive spiking at various times.

Fuck, the way she looked at you drove you crazy. It was a look of longing, a constant hunger for all of you.

Truthfully, it made you feel secure. The way she would look at you, you believed her every time she said she loved you. You believed she was in love with you. Sure, you’ve been together long enough to know that, but you could see it.

"Didn't you want to have breakfast in bed?" you raised your brows accusingly, earning a light pft past her lips, causing them to remain slightly agape.

"How d'you expect me to make it there when you do that? Hm?" Ellie defended in a teasing tone, slightly bending backward to make clear eye contact with you. She then let go of the edge of the counter, both of her hands finding their way to your waist, softly trailing down to your hips.

"Do what?" you retorted, acting as if you didn't know what she meant, causing Ellie's grip on your hips to slightly tighten, the simple touch nearly making you fold then and there. Ellie liked when you would talk back, fueling the fire she was desperately feeding off of.

"I jus' made you pancakes and you wanna act like that?" Ellie quirked a brow, her fingers slowly releasing from your hips to slip underneath the waistband of your shorts on your sides. The cold graze of her fingers nearly made you shiver against her, a soft breath falling from your lips. "Don't act like you don't know what I'm talking about, baby."

You were fully aware of what you did, you did it on purpose. You loved teasing her, seeing her get worked up, unable to stop touching you. You shrugged, looking up at her through your lashes, as you leaned against the counter, your elbows resting on the solid wood behind you. You were in a tank top with comfy pajama shorts. It was clear that you weren't wearing a bra, your sensitive peaks poking against the thin fabric of your tank.

"Ah, okay," Ellie nodded sarcastically with a calm tone, her fingers slipping underneath your shorts, tugging them down your sides with your panties remaining. "I see what game we're playing."

Ellie's fingers then found their way on the underside of your thighs, hiking them up before lifting you onto the counter. A gasp fell from your lips as Ellie did so, your arms flying around the nape of her neck for stabilization. Even if you wanted to protest, Ellie's movements were swift, but it was clear what you both wanted since you woke up.

Ellie suddenly yanked your thighs against her hips, pulling you toward the edge of the counter, your clothed heat making instant contact with her lower stomach. Her hands slowly trailed up your thighs until they reached the crevices, her thumbs applying pressure to your lower stomach. She loved touching you— every part of you.

Ellie nearly chuckled from how silent you'd become. You felt yourself clench around nothing as you watched Ellie's smug face, her eyes locked on your lower half.

"You got nothin' else to say?" she piped, looking up at you with raised brows as she used her right hand to slowly begin tugging your panties to the side, right near your core. A smile tugged on her lips when you didn't respond, her left hand gently pulling your thighs apart as she slipped the fingers of her other hand underneath your panties. Her cold fingertips grazed your folds, a huff puffing from your chest. Ellie looked up at you with raised brows, taken aback by your eagerness, but not surprised.

Instead of mocking you, Ellie leaned in to capture your lips with hers, instantly dipping her tongue into your mouth. Ellie eased a finger up your slit, collecting your wetness before she pushed in, a soft moan falling from your mouth and into Ellie's for her to swallow.

"Fuck, Ellie," you whined, feeling her ease in a second finger. She was so gentle, knowing how you needed to be touched. She knew your sweet spots, which angles worked best, what your body craved. It always started slow, and you weren't always sure when it would shift, but you weren't foreign to Ellie's need to please you, and her slight aggressiveness. It was hard for Ellie to control herself when it came to pleasing you. You were the same way, though.

"Faster," you whispered against her lips, which made the corner of hers tug into a grin. Ellie began to fasten her pace, but not as much as you'd liked. You reached to grip her hand, to try and force her fingers in faster, but she caught your wrist with her other hand just in time to prevent you from doing so. Ellie released your lips from hers, leaning back as she noticed how soaked your panties were getting the more her fingers plunged in and out of you.

"What do you say, pretty girl?" Ellie purred, tipping her chin up as if she was expecting a response. You huffed, your grip on the edge of the counter tightening, your knuckles turning white as Ellie continued to hold the wrist of your other hand behind your back.

A whine escaped your lips as you rocked your hips forward, craving more friction than she was providing. The ache in your lower half was controlling your movements, desperately wanting to reach that familiar high.

"Ellie—fuck," you nearly groaned, tilting your head back as the pleasure was slowly growing overwhelming. Your thighs flew together as you whimpered a small, "Please."

Ellie slightly frowned as you tilted your head back, no longer able to see your facial expressions or your eyes as clearly. She began to slow her pace even more, releasing your wrist to grip your chin with her thumb and folded index, pulling your face back down to her eye level.

"C'mon, let me see those eyes, baby," Ellie purred, earning your eye contact nearly immediately. She then released her grip on your chin, separating your thighs as she began to fasten her pace to your liking, earning a string of pitiful moans from you as her fingers thrusted into your sopping cunt.

Ellie's lips were slightly agape as she watched you, heavy huffs falling from her lips as she continued a steady pace. You were trying your best to not arch your back, to avoid Ellie punishing you for breaking eye contact.

"How does it feel, pretty girl? Talk to me."

"Feels s'good," you whimpered, your arms shaking as you managed to stabilize yourself on the counter, still sitting up. Ellie's eyes were darting from your face, to your covered tits, to her fingers disappearing inside of you repeatedly. She didn't plan to stop, she didn't want to stop until she was satisfied. "P-please don't stop. Please."

It clearly did not take long for Ellie to have you withering beneath her, begging her to push you to your release.

"I know, baby. You're doing so good," she praised, gently curling her fingers inside you. The action caused a loud moan to rip through your throat, your legs quivering as you tried your best to keep them apart, which did not go unnoticed. "Good girl."

You could feel your muscles begin to freeze, your chest heaving as you felt the coil within your lower stomach grow tighter with each passing second. Ellie noticed the shift in your breathing and the way you tensed, fully aware that you were close to your release.

"Fuck, Ellie, 'm gonna come," you whimpered, your legs beginning to tremble. Ellie began pressing wet, open-mouthed kisses on your lips as she continued to pump her fingers at the same pace. To her best ability, she began to swirl her thumb on your sensitive clit, gradually tipping you over the edge until you completely spilled. "F-fuck!"

Incoherent sounds fell from your lips as your orgasm crashed into you, striking you in the best way as Ellie continued to pump her fingers into you, unable to stop herself so she could listen to the sloppy noises coming from your cunt.

"That's right, baby. Such a good girl," Ellie whispered in your ear before finding a well-known sweet spot on your neck, softly licking the sensitive skin before suckling until your skin was tinted purple. You couldn't control your eyes from rolling back, relishing in the feeling of Ellie's fingers working wonders as well as her tongue on your neck.

The pleasure was quickly growing overwhelming as you came down from your high, Ellie's thumb on your clit continuing to swirl various patterns. You reached out to grab her wrist in a second attempt, successfully halting her movements.

"What are you—" Ellie attempted to speak, but you were off the counter in a flash, your hands landing on Ellie's hips to spin her around, forcing her back against the counter. You both liked to switch often, and Ellie wouldn't admit it, but she preferred to bottom a little more. Not that she didn't love seeing you whimper beneath her, she just loves when you take care of her.

"You think you could do all of this without something in return?" you teased, your hands finding the hem of her jeans to start unbuttoning them, quickly unzipping before peeling them off her hips. Ellie's cheeks began to tint pink, contrasting with her freckles. You were always able to fluster her, have her blushing and bouncing on her heels despite being together for so long. You truly had her wrapped around your finger.

You slipped your fingers beneath the hem of her panties, humming against Ellie's lips as she gasped against yours, feeling your cold fingertips glide between her slit. You couldn't waste time, how could you? One moment she had you shaking and moaning, another moment you had her blushing and tensing beneath you.

Ellie couldn't deny how soaked she'd become after seeing you beg for her touch, whimpering and grabbing for her. You knew she wanted her own release just as much.

"I make you this wet?" you purred, her wetness allowing you to easily slip a finger into her sopping cunt. Ellie sucked in a breath, her mouth falling agape as she held eye contact with you, her doe-eyes nearly making you want to just pull her to your shared bedroom. You didn't have enough patience, though. You wanted her taste her.

"Hm?" you hummed, raising a brow as you pulled your finger out, earning a whine in protest.

"Y-yes, yes. You do," Ellie answered desperately, squeezing her eyes shut in embarrassment from how pitiful she sounded. You smirked as you began to pull her underwear down her legs, listening to her desperate replies. You then did the same she did to you, slipping your hands underneath her thighs to lift her onto the counter, on the edge to give yourself access to her. Ellie watched you lower down to be eye-level with her cunt, slipping your arms underneath her thighs, holding them apart as you held them against your shoulders.

"Keep your eyes on me," you ordered, her bright green eyes glistening down at you as she nodded, her lips remaining slightly agape as her chest slowly fell in anticipation. She obliged your order, holding eye contact as your tongue darted out from between your lips, making contact with her core.

You slowly dragged your tongue up her slit, earning a loud moan in return as Ellie's slim fingers found their way to your head, pulling it closer to push your tongue further into her cunt. You lapped at her folds, collecting her juices on your tongue as a string of curses and moans fell from her wet lips.

"You taste so fucking good," you moaned against her, causing her thighs to quiver from the vibrations that coursed through her core, to her fingertips. Ellie replied with a pitiful whimper, her eyes never leaving yours as you indulged in her sweet folds. You lapped and sucked, her wetness coating your chin and cheeks as you buried your face further into her, earning many high-pitched moans in between desperate gasps for air.

Neither of you had anything else on your mind as the pancakes grew cold with each passing second. Instead of the frying noises that filled the kitchen mere moments earlier, all that could be heard were Ellie's pitiful cries and the sloppy sucking sounds of your mouth on her cunt.

"Fuck, yes! Just like that," she squeaked, her legs tightening around your face, hollowing your cheeks against her inner thighs. You yanked her thighs apart, holding them in place again as you quickly wrapped your lips around her bundle of nerves, softly suckling. Her breathing grew rapid, her moans changing in pitch as you pushed her closer and closer to her release.

"Ooh, oh, fuck," Ellie whined and huffed, unable to control her eyes from screwing shut as her back arched, which then forced her hips to buck into you. "Just like that, 'm gonna c-come."

Ellie's warning was the signal for you to plunge your middle and ring fingers into her, instantly curling them as you continued to suck and flick at her bundle of nerves. This action nearly caused Ellie to yelp in pleasure as you pumped your fingers into her, moaning against her clit to send her flying over the edge. You made sure to pay attention to her facial expressions, watching as her mouth hung agape, her eyes rolling to the back of her head as her body tensed underneath your hold.

Ellie shook as her orgasm washed over her, her walls clenching around your fingers as you continued to thrust them mercilessly, moaning against her clit as her eyes pricked with tears from the overwhelming pleasure.

"Fuck, fuck. I n-need a second," Ellie bellowed with a huff, using the grip she had on your hair to pull your face away from her pussy, quickly growing overstimulated. You retreated your tongue, pressing gentle kisses on her inner thighs, which were coated in various tears from Ellie's uncontrollable need for you. You slowed the pace of your fingers as Ellie huffed, attempting to catch her breath as she looked down at you with hooded eyes. You pulled your fingers out of her swollen pussy, easing your fingers into your mouth to taste her. She watched as you did so, her hands moving to the edge of the counter to stabilize herself as you then stood back up.

"As much as you taste good, baby, I need some real food," you smiled, leaning your face closer to hers.

"Was that not filling enough?" she jokingly whined with a sigh, tugging on the sides your shirt.

"Mm, not quite," you hummed with a smug grin as she eased herself off the counter, gently squeezing your ass as she made her way over to the cabinet to grab plates. You knew she could keep going, but you thought it'd be smart to eat and stack your energy. There was no doubt in your mind that her planned 'breakfast in bed' had another meaning.

TAGLIST— @kurosaaki @urlocalgingersnap @bellswlw @evanpetersluver @shesluxurious @abbysbicepsss @elliesstar @slutf0rmilfs @dergy @lonelyfooryouonly @elliespookie @ellieluhme @wh0am111

#hazelnutsforellie #ellie williams smut #ellie williams x reader smut #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams #ellie williams x y/n #ellie williams fanfic #tlou ellie williams #tlou smut #the last of us smut #the last of us #tlou #the last of us game #the last of us 2 #ellie williams tlou

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wandafiction · 8 months

Text

Cooking With Flo

Warning: None, just pure fluff.

“Hey bitches it’s cooking with Flo. Today we are doing it Live so send your questions and I will see how many we can answer.”

You watch with a smile as Florence puts the tip of the knife into the wooden chopping board smiling into her phone. You are standing behind the phone, off camera leaning against the kitchen island simply watching your wife as she flutters around the kitchen getting everything she needs ready. You had always loved watching Flo in the kitchen. She always seemed so happy and free, which made you happy and the smile on your face shows it. Your smile grows when Flo looks up from her task sending you a small wink then looking down to her phone chuckling to herself.

“Yes, the other Mrs Pugh is here with us today. Baby say hello to everyone.”

“Hello internet.” You simply speak hoping the phone picks it up, as you want to finish your coffee before making your way onto camera, which you usually do as the food is in the oven to answer any fan questions.

“Baby I meant come around and say…You know what doesn’t matter everyone is saying hi back.” She rolls her eyes with a giggle as she grabs an onion and puts it on the chopping board. “Okay so today we are going to be cooking something real simple. Chilli con Carne. Why you may ask? Well it is Y/n’s favourite and I thought I would treat my favourite girl.”

You smile, blowing her a kiss which she pretends to catch and put in her apron pocket. Taking another sip of your coffee you simply watch as Florence answers a few comments about upcoming projects, how she is and saying thank you every time someone compliments her.

“So with the onion you just gotta take her bottom off, then take her top off.” You hold in a laugh placing your hand over your mouth as Florence seems to realise what she has said. She points the knife to the camera with a fake look of seriousness. “Cheeky, don't think like that.”

You shake your head taking another sip of coffee before it comes back out of your nose as the laugh you were holding in finally makes an appearance. As you choke Florence breaks out into a fit of laughter, doubling over as her arm wraps under her ribs, the other placing the knife back down on the side. You fan your face, the coffee leaves a painful sting in your nose, your eyes watering as Florence slowly crouches down till she is sat on the floor in tears of laughter.

“Oh-my-god…I…Can’t be-lieve you did that.” She says between her loud laughs as you continue to cough trying to clear your throat and nose of coffee.

You make your way around the island to where the tap is, quickly running the cold water and putting most of your face under it as you try to wash away the spat up coffee, completely forgetting that Florence is Live on instagram. You remove your face from the water, cupping your hands underneath and splashing the water over your face a few times before harshly rubbing your hands against it. You turn the tap off, shaking your head and hands to try and dry them a little before turning around to see Flo still on the floor in a ball of laughter.

You lift the bottom of your shirt up to wipe your face dry, then pull it off chucking it on the floor deciding to deal with it later. The moment your shirt hits the floor Flo is quick to stand and jump in your arms causing you to stumble back a little as you catch her. You let out a small laugh as she mumbles against the skin of your neck, not hearing a single thing she said.

“Baby, I didn't catch what you said.”

“I said you are on camera and no one is allowed to see what's under your shirt but me.” She whines softly, making you laugh more.

“Cuddle bug, they already know what it looks like ever since that video of you stalking me in the gym got out.” Florence's face flushes a bright red at the memory of the day she was posting on her instagram story and instead of putting the video of you working out on her private story it went onto her public one. By the time she realised it was too late and most of her fanbase had already seen you in shorts and a sports bra.

“Doesn’t mean I have to share you with them now though. And that was an accident.” You carefully place Flo back on the ground with a small chuckle as she pouts so you are quick to lean down and peck her lips a few times until she smiles. You make your way to her phone looking at the comments that are flooding in.

“See, the people want me to help you cook in just my sweatpants and bra. And if the people want it then there is nothing I can do.” You laugh loudly when Flo’s hand comes into contact with your shoulder bouncing on your toes to get away from her as she goes for another hit.

“Get back here Mrs Pugh!” She quickly chases after you as you run around the island, once stopping back in front of the phone as she stops behind it eyeing you up like her prey.

“Hey! We are not children. We are respectable adults who just…well just…just chase each other sometimes.” You answer the comments that are calling the two of you children as the comment section fills with laughing face emojis.

“I am going to get you.” You smirk at Flo’s empty threat grabbing her phone so you can put music on knowing the one thing that will get her to not completely beat you up in front of thousands of fans.

“Sure you will, darling. Because you, Miss Florence Pugh, are the best runner in the Pugh household.” You squeal as Flo darts around the island just as you put her phone back down and the room fills with sudden music.

After a few minutes of trying to chase you around Flo gives up and goes back to her cooking show, apologising to her fans for the unfortunate mishap of a childish wife. Flo looks up to you with a soft smile back on her face as she starts to prepare the meal once more. You smile wide as you see Florence swaying her hips side to side in time to the music singing every few lyrics, still a bit camera shy when it comes to her voice.

You decide to take the risk of reappearing on camera in just your sports bra and sweatpants as you move to stand behind Florence, wrapping your arms around her waist as you place your chin on her shoulder; having to bend down a little to match her height. She continues to sway a little in your arms as you watch the comments roll in, smiling softly when you hear her voice become more confident as she chops a red pepper.

You smile wide when Dancing Queen starts playing and you peel yourself off of Flo and start dancing to the beginning of the song, swaying your hips, as you move to wash your hands knowing Flo will need a hand in a minute to get everything mixed together. You start singing as you dry off your hands causing Florence to turn around and look at you with a wide smile, she had always loved your voice and loved when you felt confident enough to sing in front of her; and at this point her fans.

You hold your hand out for her to take, which she easily does and you quickly pull her into you. You sing to her as you spin her under your arm, her smile and laugh causing you to smile widely and spin her around again. You pull her back into you, keeping her hand in yours, your other one landing on her waist as you sway the both of you side to side playfully and definitely not in time with the music. Your goofiness pays off as Flo pushes away from you before spinning back towards you, your arm ending up wrapped around her as you continue to sway.Her back is to her phone as you shout the lyrics to one another and start jumping around the kitchen in time with the music.

“You are the dancing queen. Young and sweet. Only Seventeen.” You pick up a wooden spoon holding it up to your mouth pretending it's a mic as Flo heads back over to her phone looking through the comments that are flooding in, they must be good because the smile on her face only gets bigger.

You sway your body dancing from one foot to the other as you continue to sing, pointing at Florence as you do so. “Dancing Queen. Feel the beat from the tambourine, oh yeah! You can dance, you can jive!”

“Go Mrs Pugh.” You dance over to Flo as she cheers you on, reading some of her comments. “That's right, my wife can sing, dance and jive. She's the whole package!”

You grab onto her waist with your free hand spinning her to look at you, holding the mic between you both as you sing the last few lyrics to each other. “Having the time of your life. Ooh, see that girl. Watch that scene. Digging the dancing queen. Digging the dancing queen.”

You both laugh with wide smiles as you wrap your arms around her waist pulling her back against your front as you walk the both of you back to her phone. Her hands land on the table as you both look at the comments that are flowing in, most of them hyping the both of you up, some just many random letters.

“What does that mean baby?” Florence points to one of the many keyboard smashes and it makes you giggle.

“That my love is a gay keyboard smash. It’s a good thing, don't you worry.”

“Hmm, is that like the whole gay panic thing?” You chuckle with a nod.

“Yeah most of your fans are gay my love. They are very jealous of me but also proud that I managed to get to you before some man did.” You see Florence roll her eyes on the livestream, squeezing her hips in response.

“Well I’m happy I found you when I did Mrs pugh.” She tilts her head to kiss the underside of her jaw and you see a bunch of awws race up the side of her screen.

“I love you Mrs pugh.” You look down at her as you say it, making a toothy smile appear, her nose scrunching as you bring your lips down to hers in a small kiss, this time remembering you are live streaming.

“I love you too Mrs Pugh.” She returns easily once she pulls her lips away from yours.

“Yes we love you all too.” You say to the phone as you see a bunch of pouting emojis, which have been deemed the Florence Pugh pout, asking if you love them to.

“Yes we most definitely love all of you guys.” You squeeze her hips again making her look back up to you.

“I am going to get a shirt on, and even though I love you very much I love food just that bit more and my stomach is crying out for it.” You say it with a smile so she knows that you are only partially serious because you do not want to be sleeping on the couch.

“Okay. go get yourself sorted baby, I will call you if I need help.” She quickly pecks your lips as you remove your arms from her waist.

“Goodbye internet.” You stroll out of the kitchen, smiling when you hear Flo start her show again before she calls your name and you look around to see why.

“The internet says bye Mrs Pugh.” You chuckle at her goofy smile as she holds the camera in one hand so she can get you in the frame as her face peaks up from the bottom of the camera.

“I love you.” You shake your head blowing Florence a kiss and sending the camera a small wave, laughing when you hear Florence shout back to you.

“I looooove you too, baby!”

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

#florence pugh #florence pugh x reader #florence reader x you #Florence pugh fluff

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 months

Text

The Stranger 10

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Destroyer!Chris

Summary: A stranger buys the farmstead nearby and disturbs your sleepy village life.

Part of the Backwoods AU

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

Chris continues to toy with you. His touch sends tendrils through your thighs and a ripple up your spine. You squeak at the sensations rolling over you as your blood turns hot and cold. You lean into the fridge, shivering at the storm he stirs within you.

“That’s a good girl,” he purrs as you slicken against his fingers.

You puff and pout, eyes nearly rolling back into your head. Your hand slips down and you grip his forearm, the tendons and veins firm in your grasp. The air around you grows balmy with your shallow breaths. He leans it, putting his forehead to yours as he squeezes your jaw tighter.

A swelling pulses deep inside you, just beneath your guts as he flicks his fingers in circles. Your thigh quiver and you bring both hands to his chest, pushing against him. You feel as if you might suffocate. The storm swirling threatens to blow you away.

You close your eyes and clench your teeth, mewling through your nose as your fingertips curl into him. His own raspy breaths surround you, the smell of alcohol and something woodsy radiating off him. You slide your hands up to his neck and grip him tightly as you spasm and whine.

Your feet slip but he keeps you standing, his hand firmly around your chin. You moan and gasp until your weak and senseless, dizzy in the delirium of your afterglow. Your lashes flutter and you open your eyes, he tilts his head to smother your lips with his. He delves inside quickly, his tongue forcing its way in roughly, exploring your mouth eagerly.

He growls and slips his hand around the back of your head. He drags you away from the fridge and you stumble. He drags his hand out of your pants as he parts from your lips. He turns you on your heels and marches you forward.

You reach back to touch his wrist as he presses his fingers to his lower lip. He dips his fingers into his mouth and sucks loudly. He hums and leaves them in there for a moment before pulling them out. He shoves you ahead of him and smacks your ass.

You exclaim, throwing your arms out to keep yourself on your feet. He slaps you again, this time groping your bum with a growl, “fuck, you got a nice ass.”

“Please,” you whimper.

“You want more? Already?” He taunts as he catches you from behind and pulls you against him, “I was gonna go slow, sugar.” He kisses the grown of your head and rocks you, “the first time... you gotta work up to it.”

“I... I’m scared. Please let me go—I gotta work--”

“No one fucking cares. It’s a party,” he grits as he turns you harshly and grabs you by your shoulders. “I don’t see your boss around here.”

“She’s...” you gulp and look around. Once more he grabs you by the jaw and makes you face him.

“Don’t worry about her. You worry about me,” he snarls as he looms over you, once more pressing his head to yours, bearing down on your like a wolf licking its chops, “got something special...” He takes your hand and lifts it, guiding it along the rough denim of his jeans. You babble cluelessly as he leads your fingertips along the edge of his pocket, “it’s in there.”

You shake and bat your eyes, a glaze of tears rising as the shadow of your orgasm fades back into horror. You don’t dare disobey him. Not after what he’s already done. Like he said, the first time won’t be easy and he’s still being nice. As nice as he can be.

You delve between the rough fabric and put two fingers around the slender hard shape within. You slide it out little by little as he eases you away from him, keeping hold of you as you look down. The plastic card has the logo of the hotel on it and a few scratches.

“Come on,” he covers your hand with his, closing it around the card, “let’s go have some more fun.”

“But...” you murmur.

“I gotta punish that mouth, huh? Just when you were being good?”

You sniff and a tear slips over the brim of your eye, “no, sir, I wasn’t being bad.”

“You’re talking back.”

“No,” you push your lip out.

He chuckles and shifts his hand, tracing the line of your tear with his thick thumb. You shake again as he bites his lip and stares down at your mouth. He hums and lets his hand drift down. With his other, he tugs and twirls you so your off-balance. In an instant, he scoops you up and heaves you over his shoulder.

You cry out and laughter rises from the next room. He carries you around the counter as you flail helplessly. You pass the storage room. It was open before...

The small details quickly falls away as you claw at the back of Chris’ shirt and he slaps his big hand on your ass once more, digging his nails in. He leans his head against the curve of it and turn to bite the extra flesh through your pants. He growls like an animal.

“Well, we tried being good, sugar, didn’t we?”

You wriggle and cling to his shirt, “Chris, sir, I’m sorry. I’ll be good--”

“Oh, I know you will,” he tickles along the seam of your pants, pushing it against your cunt, moving his fingers so you can feel it against your clit, “but you’ve been bad.” He continues out of the kitchen, unbothered by the couples in the hotel lobby, though they hardly notice him or your squirming and squealing. “Remember what I said about respect?”

“Sir, I haven’t--”

“I’ll show you all about respect,” he snarls as he heads for the stairs.

Your tears leak out freely and you shudder as the ascent adds to your disorientation. He turns down the hallway, marching along the carpet, passing doors as he taps the plastic card against your leg. He stops and swipes it with a beep as you sob.

He takes you inside and flips you off his shoulder so you land with a shriek on the bed. You bounce and hiccup in horror, your face soaked with terror.

“Why the hell you crying?” He tosses the card and cracks his knuckles, “I ain’t even begun.”

#destroyer!chris #chris x reader #dark!chris #dark chris #destroyer #au #series #backwoods #the stranger #drabble

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indouloureux · 2 years

Text

𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐊𝐍𝐈𝐅𝐄

summary: in frenzied expeditions, eddie lets his anger snap and indulges in something... new.

content warnings: ghostface!eddie. character death (no one major), murder, eddie and reader being lovesick psychopaths, kinda shitty writing, gore, graphic depictions of violence. SMUT (18+ MDNI), (a warning that's a spoiler), knife play, blood kink, unprotected sex, creampie, oral (m receiving), ball play, gagging, facefucking, overstimulation, kitchen sex??

a/n: in honor of halloween; idk how to explain this. i hope u guys like it. i wrote it within two days. this was kinda rushed. reblogs and comments are appreciated. thank u my girls @mysticmunson and @lilacletter for beta-reading!!

“Hello?”

“Hi, sweetheart,”

Funny how that baritone dulcetness of a voice was easily recognizable. But it was probably because you’ve heard it in many different ways possible that this experimentation seemed familiar to you. Even with his speech choppy from the static of the RT.

“Hey, Eddie,” RT balanced between your ear and shoulder, you take the popcorn out from the microwave, the hot bowl seethes on your poor fingers but you could care less; the burning feeling felt good. “Where are you?”

“On my way,” his voice is slightly garbled. “Just got held up from the drive thru, babe. Don’t start the film without me,”

“Of course,” you chuckle. “Andy’s right here. He’s, uh, out by the pool smoking. The others are on their way though,”

He spits out an obscenity at what you think is an unforeseen speed bump, then a clutter that probably meant his RT fell to the ground. Then his voice is faint next: “I don’t understand why we invited these dickheads,”

“It’s for a truce,” you place the bowl on the countertop, crossing your arms over your white linen sweater, the soft cotton tickling your wrists. “I mean, baby, come on. You graduated! And so did they and, y’know, they want to fix things before they head off to college. And- Eddie, come on, you agreed!”

“I did. But, I just don’t know why we have to watch a movie at your place. You’re alone with Andy right now and I’m still twenty minutes away,”

You hear something slam in the background over his side. You frown, eyes scanning for Andy’s figure out in the backyard; a silver mist hovers over the teal pool, dark green grass almost black, the moon glinting its sharp tips.

And then there’s Andy, with his hands in his hips and a cigarette in his mouth. He turns and waves at you. You wave back.

“Andy’s not here with me. He’s outside, remember?” you pop a popcorn into your mouth, bending over the counter with your elbow on the marbled gloss. “You gotta relax, Eds. I’m fine. If he touches me, I could just… stab him,”

"You wouldn't,"

“I would,”

“You caught a rat and sent it away. You didn’t even drown it, or gut it. Or chop its head off,”

Laughing softly, you take the bowl into your hands and head over to the living room, placing it on the coffee table, aligning the stack of movies properly. “Doing that is, like, practically murder. Why don’t they include those cute little rats in the anti-animal abuse law? They’re still animals!”

“They’re pests, sweetheart.”

“Still an animal. And they're cute. Rodents are cute,” you plop down on the couch in a small bounce, not before you give Andy one last glance who seems to be staring at something across the fence. It’s probably just a squirrel. “What about you? Are you brave enough to kill a rat?”

“Oh, princess,” you can imagine him shaking his head, RT resting on the vacant seat beside him, replacing you. “You know I can do so much more than just kill a rat,”

“Spooky,” flipping your hair behind you, you giggle into the microphone. “Make it quick, please? I’m starving and popcorn’s not gonna suffice this hunger. I could eat a horse, or- I dunno, a person’s arm.”

“Sure thing, Your Majesty,” his voice deepens over a border of a mock British accent that hides his normal, American one well. Then he grunts, and another faint slam of something that catches you off guard and even makes you flinch.

“What was that?”

“What was what?” Eddie questions.

You sit forward. “That- slam. Where are you?”

“Oh! That. It’s just the shit at the back, babe.” Eddie explains. “I’m almost there, sweetheart. Sit tight and look pretty,”

The RT crackles and there’s nothing but silence left. An ephemeral smile makes its way towards your heated face; conversations with Eddie, no matter the topic or its duration, never fails to make itself linger around your berserk mind.

Your heart belabors your ribcage expectantly, your crimson bottom lip tucked between your pearls. With your thoughts suddenly wrapped around Andy, who makes you wonder how long does it take for someone to finish smoking, makes you jump from your seat and wander away from your bright living room.

By the time you reach the sliding doors that lead you to the backyard, you’ve no sight of the man in the bright green and orange Hawkins High jersey. You frown a little, looking around the expanse of your backyard.

Finally, you slide the doors open. You worry he’s on his little schemes again, like Eddie had warned you about. Despite the truce they offered, you still put them on a pedestal and remained cautious of their actions. Inviting Andy into your home when you were still alone wasn’t exactly one of your brightest decisions, seeing as he could have done anything at any moment that could cause you harm.

But he’s not a murderer.

No, Andy’s a teenage boy who’s attempting closure and forgiveness and practices maturity like every other teenager does. Just… at a later date.

You race back inside your home and pick up your RT and a flashlight. When you return outside, the mist over your pool swishes away from the cold summer wind at nightfall. You turn the switch of your flashlight and direct it at each direction that it could reach, radio tight in your other hand just in case.

“Andy?” you call out. Where could he have possibly gone? “Andy, where are you?”

White sneakers stained by the wet grass and the dirt, you pad across the lawn prudently—tacitly, wondering if maybe you could sneak up on him and give him a good scare. But your backyard lacks trees or any other areas to hide into other than the sun loungers and the shed.

So this concerns you deeply. How Andy could just suddenly disappear. You’ve quickly come to dread this, with the eerie silence that blots repetitively at your composure and suddenly your rattling in worry.

You walk around, pointing your flashlight at every direction, the white beam only allowing you to see the probable septuagenarian metal fences that surround your home. You even open the shed you’ve always feared opening in the nights and see nothing but your father’s equipment and a lawn mower.

But something was missing there.

Your father had a very voluptuary collection of knives that are hung meticulously to the wooden walls of the shed. They were exhibited by size, cleaned thoroughly once a week during his weekends. Their frequent disinfectioning proffers itself like a mirror, where you can clearly see your distraught expression when you realize one of the knives was missing.

The Buck 120.

It was your father’s most beloved. And now you wonder if Andy took it.

“Alright, Andy!” you slam the shed door close, walking backwards and speed walk across every corner of your backyard. “Come out! This isn’t funny! Did you go inside the shed?”

No answer, obviously. What were you thinking?

You harrumph, annoyed that Andy would do this despite your brooding. You stomp your way back inside your house, wiping your feet across the poor rug that you practically assault with your frustrated padding.

You place your flashlight on the counter. Impatient and worried, you try contacting Eddie again through the RT.

When it’s nothing but static, you groan. “God, Eddie, where are you?”

In fact, where are the others?

You twist the knobs of your walkie talkie still, searching for the right station.

Suddenly it crackles and you halt your doings, staring at the radio with a confused lour. The crinkling sound makes you tap your feet impatiently, thinking it’s Eddie because who else could it be?

The frizzling ceases. You take this as a sign to speak. “Hello?”

“Hi sweetheart,” it’s Eddie. But his voice is akin to darkness, almost like corruption playing with a knife that glooms over boredom. The hairs on your arms raise in arising suspicion.

“...Eddie?”

“Go out to the backyard, baby,”

Discomposed, you do. You take heedful steps back outside, a sinister quietude resolves uneasily all over your lit nerves. You hold the walkie talkie tight in your shaking hand, the flashlight you took lighting up the backyard again.

“I’m out,” you say quietly into the microphone. “Eddie, where are you?”

“Just keep walking forward,”

You miff. “Eddie, just come here! Where are you, anyway?” you look around, pointing the flashlight over the fences. “This isn’t funny. Did you take my dad’s knife? You know he hates it when someone touches his collection.”

Eddie titters like he doesn’t give a damn. “Just do what I say,”

Cheeks sucking in, you walk forward, until your eyes adjust to a dark figure sitting in the middle of the lawn. You tap your flashlight twice on your lamp, and point the light at the figure.

If you could, you could have broken the handle in your hand.

Andy’s mangled body sat straight on the chair, the guidance of the blood-soaked ropes kept him up high. His head dangles to the side, his open throat bleeds lavishly down his white shirt; the horrifyingly stark contrast of vermillion to alabaster sets an aberrant spark of terror in your bones.

Then the slit of his apertured stomach leaks all his visceri, a pool of blood beneath his feet and the chair, staining your grass red. You drop the flashlight without your knowledge, the light shining his wretched sneakers instead.

Your hands shakily grasp your mouth, your lips twisting drastically into a choked sob as tears try to sting your eyes. A couple of them drip down your cheeks, your crying more like heavy heaves and gasps.

“Eddie?” you whimper into the walkie. “Where are you? You- you have to come and get me and- and we h-have to call the cops. E-Hello…?” you bring the radio away from your face, staring at the small machine in horror. “Eddie?”

With perturbing fear, you force yourself to look up at Andy again. It’s only then you notice his eyes stare off into space, lacking the brash colors irises adorn — they aren’t blue anymore. It’s a pearl swimming in a milk of lifeless beauty; the barbaric aura of his eyes evinces you speechless, unable to look away from the monstrous crime.

His mouth gapes open, the shocking realization that no breath leaves his agape lips causes you to sob again, your feet bolting you back inside your home, body breaking at each step until you arrive inside your home in shambles.

You hit the walkie repeatedly and speak into it, the way Dustin would during ‘Code Reds’. “Eddie? Eddie!” you hiss. “You answer right-fucking-now. I need you to call the cops—”

With your constant walking back, and your shaky exhales and that ringing in your ears forbids you to hear what has happened inside the home. With one last step, your back meets something warm and acute, causing you to scream and pick up something close to you—a knife.

You point it to whoever it was, the tip meeting the intruder's black clothed mask. Your eyes are wide with fear that attempts bravery, the blunt knife threatening that person.

Your eyes meet the plastic ones, the mask sembles a ghost; its wide, parted mouth frozen like a haunted scream, but the vizard is nothing but dull with its aimless attempt to scare. Anamnesis, had it not been from the circumstances, you would have laughed at it.

You almost did.

“Hi,”

The voice is muffled, the sound marching to familiarity, to hesitance, to realization, to disbelief. You let out a shaky huff, your weapon trembling in your grasp.

“Eddie?”

His glove moves like a blur to remove his mask.

Eddie’s breathless and sweaty, droplets of blood splattered from his neck up to his jaw, the sanguine blood creating symbiotic art with his opalescent skin. He smiles, corners of his lips almost meeting his eyes, his dimples deep with pride, and his whiskey orbs wide in redolent mentality.

“Yeah, it’s me,” he tilts his head to the side, his crepuscular mouth still managing to make you swoon and forget about the horrors that cover his body. “Sorry I’m late, sweetheart,”

His hand gently pushes the knife down and you oblige, dropping it to the ground in a loud clatter that makes you wince.

Your head flips between him and the sliding doors behind you, which still shows Andy’s corpse from the flashlight you left.

“What did you do?” you query, bottom lip quivering as you look back at Eddie. He shrugs with no care, his eyebrows raised to his forehead.

“I killed them,” he says bluntly, his smile falling a little. “I told you I could kill more than just a rat, babe,”

“Wh-what so you just—decided to suddenly kill them? While we were talking about- about rats and shit?!”

Eddie shakes his head, worry filling his features. Though, he’s worried more at the fact that you may fear him for what he’s done. He bends down, his bloody, gloved hands reaching to grasp your shoulders, which causes the thick substance to stain your white sweater.

“No, baby, no,” he tuts, pouting a little, his hands smearing themselves over your clothing like he’s trying to clean his hands before he cups your face, his gloved thumbs wiping your barely there tears. “I was already thinking about this months ago. Rage does something to your mind, sometimes,”

You whimper and his features soften. “What- what do you mean?”

“Sweetheart, I just told you,” he pushes your hair away, patting it down. “I was mad. I am mad. I couldn’t just sit there and let them taunt me when I’m all defenseless, baby. Life isn’t like that—you’re supposed to fight back.”

“Fight back, not kill them!” you say through gritted teeth, chest heaving brokenly. “Eddie, you’ll go to jail. People will find out,”

“They won’t, baby. Not with this mask,” he takes it from the counter, the absence of his hand from one of your cheeks leaves something cold on your bare skin. “Besides, no one’s roaming around, remember? Everyone’s at the town fair, and we don’t have any surveillance cameras now, do we?”

You sniffle, can’t decide between leaning in his covered hand or flinching away from the smell of blood. But his eyes—Eddie’s eyes, oh, you can see well every shift of emotion, desecrating each one with something new and peculiar; he exceeds the threshold of creativity with it, almost like an actor. Just… more quixotic.

Yet, despite your knowledge of it, you’re still surprised and fooled with the way the madness in his eyes swiftly changed into something like begging and forbearance. How all that insanity melts and twinkles into silk kindness, like he’s your Eddie again.

He sees your fear.

“You don’t have to be afraid,” his hands leave your face for a moment to discard his blemished gloves. Your heart relaxes at the feeling of his rough palms on your soft cheeks, eyes scanning his blood doused rings. “You know I love you, (y/n). I could never, never ever, hurt you,”

Eddie’s anger has clemency incarcerated; all that self-restraint had finally become impuissant. You couldn’t blame him for finally snapping.

“And,” he continues. “You wanted this too, remember? All that taunting, all the horrible things they said to you. And I know it’s all because of me, princess. So I had to handle it. It’s all in my hands, baby.” his fingers travel down to yours, bringing your hands up to his lips and kisses each dip of your knuckle. “Yours are all pretty and clean. Sinless,”

“I wanted them to pay. I didn’t want them to die—”

“Sweetheart, you did,” Eddie says sternly. “I did this for you. Before we go away to stupid college.”

You start sobbing again and he shushes you. You don’t know why tears aren’t rolling down your face and it frustrates you.

“You killed them,” you spit out. “That’s- that’s murder…”

“No shit,” he snorts.

“It’s wrong,” you blink rapidly, nostrils flaring. “You killed them, Eddie. And you expect me to- to what? Think of this as some sort of gift? Dead people as a gift?”

Now, he’s angry. His face hardens, his jaw clenching. Eddie shakes his head like a disappointed father at you.

“Learn how to appreciate things that are done for you, (y/n).” he says loudly. “They deserve it. They’re bullies. And bullies need to be punished,” Like a switch, though, his anger morphs into exasperation. “Baby, you know I love you, right?”

You only stare at him with whimpers trying to escape your mouth.

Eddie grasps your face tighter, you wince. “You know that I love you?”

“Yes,” you breathe out, nodding rapidly. “Yes. I- I know.”

“Then let’s celebrate it, okay?” Eddie’s face moves closer to you, the tip of his nose brushing against yours. “No more bother, am I right?”

Letting out an exhale, you shake your head.

“Good,”

Eddie leans down to capture your lips on his own, feverishly and almost passionately. Your hands wrap around his wrist when he tilts your head back as he straightens his spine, his mouth venturing deeper to let his tongue wander inside.

He smells of dirt and sweat, with whoever’s blood around his neck. The surrounding thought of death continues to imprison your mind, but Eddie overpowers it. Now, it’s just Eddie, Eddie, blood, hunger, and Eddie.

You try not to moan when his lips break away from yours, kissing his way from your cheeks down to your jawline, littering heat ‘till he reaches that spot of yours he knows you love so much.

Eddie spins you around until the dip of your spine meets the countertop. Your hands grasp tightly at his shoulders, eyes fluttering as he sucks and bites at your sweet spot like it’s his breakfast, his hands leaving his face to clutch and grasp at the swell of your ass.

Your periphery shows you the blurred image of Dead Andy once more, but you’re starting not to care. Not when Eddie licks up at your salty skin. His fingers dance from your ass until he’s gripping your thighs and lifting you up to the counter.

“Fuck, uh, Eds,” conscience tells you what you’re doing is wrong. That moral doer of an angel whispering in your ear. You almost succumbed to her. But the devil tells you to keep going. Fulfill your fantasies. You’re already there.

He pulls away from your neck, leaving short kisses on your lips repetitively. “God- you’re so pretty,”

His bare hands start to wander everywhere. Eddie clutches at the end of your shirt, urging you to move your arms up and you do. He discards the bloody sweater and throws it somewhere.

“Do you trust me?” Eddie asks.

With your whole heart. You don’t know.

“Yeah,” you sigh against him.

His hand moves behind him and pulls something shiny out. You frown at it.

“Is that my dad’s knife? Eddie, I told you—”

“I know, I know,” he chuckles. “Just wanted to have some fun, baby. Don’t worry, I’ll clean it.”

The weapon still had blood on it, dripping down to the handle, the curved tip, slick with crimson substance. You wonder whose it is.

He’s careful with it, making sure not to cut you with it, as his eyes wander over your bra. Eddie licks his lips at it, biting his bottom lip at the sight of the white lace that covers your ample tits.

“You gonna be a good girl for me?” he questions in a gentle susurration. You nod when you feel the wet knife drag down your stomach, a line of crimson painting your skin. “Words.”

“Yes,” Eddie looks at your wondrous gaze, cut short when the undulated tip dips inside your belly button and your head lulls back. “Y-yes,

Eddie’s knife, now owned by him from the sinful deed of murder, pulls away from your stomach to swim across your back, the cold spine of it pressing against your back, before the blade pushes up and cuts the fabric of your bra with ease.

“Oh, yeah, that's it,” he chuckles. “Look at your pretty tits babe.”

You don’t look at them. You look at his mesmerized look, watching him lean down to take a nipple into his mouth. You gasp, the hand that helps you prop yourself up the counter now grasping his damp curls, tugging at it, which elicits a groan from him.

He sucks at your buds, until they’re puckered and hard, ticklish when he blows air onto them. When he treats the other tit with the same hunger, and they’re all kiss-swollen and sensitive, he squeezes them in his hands before he pulls away.

You lean forward and pull on the collar of his ‘costume’, your mouth heavily watering as it parts, the need for something to fill it up so strong. Eddie chuckles, flips the knife in his hand until the bloody blade sits in his open palm and the black handle comes up to rest on your tongue.

You could practically see his cock bulging out from the black robe that covers him. Eddie coos when your lips wrap around the handle, the flat of your tongue pressing up on it.

“Get on your knees, sweetheart,”

Immediately, you do. With death no longer prevailing in your mind, you fall to your knees, the ends of his robe meeting your thighs. Eddie's hands disappear behind his robe, and you watch him until you see it loosen and fall behind him to the ground.

“Oh my god, you’re not wearing any jeans?” you look up at him through your eyelashes.

“This robe is heavy and it’s hot. I would die first before I killed them,” he snickers. You pull on the band of his boxers, driving them down until his cock springs up and his swell tip slaps up his shirt.

Eddie almost rips his shirt apart, tossing it where his robe was. You spit down your hand, a glob of white down your palm before you wrap it around his shaft. He moans.

“A little tighter baby,” you squeeze and he sighs. “Yeah, that’s it. Put that mouth into good use, come on.”

With something pooling in the apex of your thighs, your mouth hovers over his head, and you engulf its thickness into your mouth and suck. Both your hands pump him in a tight grasp, which makes his ass clench and buck up in your mouth that you gag at the sudden impact of his tip hitting the back of your throat.

You pull out and gasp, a string of saliva connecting your lips to his dick, your lipstick smudged all over his veiny base. You blink away the tears from your eyelashes, Eddie’s hands on top of your head but not forcing you down on him.

“Let me fuck your face, princess,” he pleads. “Relax your throat and let me do it, ‘kay?”

Your jaw practically unhinges, his musk heavily filling your nose that meets the tush of curls above his cock when he goes all the way in. Eddie moans a bit louder, the salty precum leaking down your loosened throat. His thrusts are slow, and albeit his previous aggression, he’s calm with the way he fucks your mouth dumb.

Hands greedy, they search for his heavy sack full of cum and play with them, unable to jerk his length when it’s deep in your mouth. Eddie laughs out a groan, his throbbing head twitching against your tongue, his thighs shaking and his hips involuntarily bucking again.

“Fuck, yeah, that’s it,” he cards his fingers through your hair, pushing it back until it’s wrapped in his hand like a makeshift ponytail. Your cheeks enclose around him, the lewd wet sounds of his slick cock being lathered by your tongue and saliva accompanied by his moans, your gags, and your humming.

You tug on his balls, cupping the squishy, loose flesh. You breathe in his spirituous scent, looking at him like you’d been praying to Hades; nothing but pliant as his dick names you stupid.

And Eddie—Eddie looks down at you like you’re the most precious thing he’s seen, awaiting to be corrupted but he thinks you already have been.

He keeps pulling out and fucking back in until real tears pour down your cheeks. Your lips all swollen and inflamed from the rough friction, eyes cockdrunk he’s amused with this sight of you all used up beneath him.

“Look at you, such a slut,” he coos, a soft tsk from his tongue. Two of his fingers tap your sucked cheeks as he continues to thrust into your face. Your head shakes as you take him deeper, smiling wickedly around him, teeth grazing lightly on his skin but fuck does he love it. “H-holy shit. Oh, god—”

His stomach clenches, his happy trail slick with sweat. It’s a telltale sign that he’s close and you keep on letting him fuck your face like it’s your dripping cunt. You suck his cock with every fiber being that builds you, until Eddie’s yelling and loud with his moan as he spills in your mouth.

That hot, pearlescent seed of his falls down your throat, its saltiness makes you mewl, swallowing every bit of his spent. Eddie’s hips stutter into your mouth, spurting and spurting until his dick aches and he pulls out.

“You alright?” his hands massage the sides of your neck, thumbs rubbing your throat. “Didn’t hurt, did it?”

“No,” you sigh. “Now come and fuck me, Ghostface. I’m tired of all this foreplay thing.”

Eddie laughs at your impatience, hands bunching up the fabric of your underwear before he rips it apart. Then he lifts you back up onto the counter, his knees nudging your legs apart, the slickness of your pussy dribbling down to the table.

“You and your inability to wait and have fun, sweetheart,” he leans down to kiss you, though it's more like wet pecks that litter across your head. “You’re taking the fun away,”

You pout. He kisses it again. “This whole thing is taking too long. Just— Eddie!”

“Okay, okay,” he grabs a hold of his cock, the other tight on the dips of your waist. “I got you, babe.”

He slaps his still sensitive tip on your clit, sending jolts of pleasure that shivers from your heat to your back down to your legs. You whine softly, bucking your hips forward, until Eddie finally slips his head in your tight hole.

When he pushes in and finally settles deep inside your warm cunt, you feel full. In the way you wanted to be filled. You forget the fact that your boyfriend—who’s cockdeep inside your cunt—has killed someone and left them tied up at your backyard and now you’re having sex.

You don’t care. It’s been your plan all along anyway.

Eddie’s tip meets your cervix through a rough, blissful stab. He doesn't start slow like what he did with your mouth; no, he's brutal. Unforgiving with his bloodthirsty hip snapping. You moan loudly at each thrust, your nails scraping along his back.

You see the blood splattered across his tattoos, like his cloak had been futile at its attempt to keep his sacred body clean. The demon sure brought itself to life, dripping down to his hip and smeared across his bone, and Eddie never looked more alluring.

The bright lights of the kitchen adds a sheen layer of pandemonium that splits between risqué endeavors; it exudes sex in the way that can only enthrall you, Eddie’s mind gone to mayhem from all that pent up emotions.

Cunt squelching from that wetness created by the taste of his cum still swimming on your tongue, you leave marks on his skin like he’s your art. Bloodied and bruised up Eddie should be everyone’s worst nightmare, you think. He’s karma brought to life.

With his blinding thrusts, you don’t notice him picking up his knife again, only to drag its crooked tip right on the soft column of your neck that’s covered in hickies. You smile a little, too drunk on the feeling of Eddie’s cock going in and out of your silky sex.

“What are you doing?” you pant, hands lazily wrapping around his neck. “You gonna slit my throat open?”

“Nah, babe,” his tongue pokes out in concentration, dragging the flat belly of the knife across. “Just gonna nick you for the hell of it. Just—”

There’s a shling sound of a sharp knife piercing lightly through your skin. From the kiss of the knife, you moan painfully, your hand wrapping around Eddie’s neck subconsciously as the searing affliction ricochets in a rapture whirlwind down your spine.

Eddie exclaims in pride; you feel the blood drip down your skin, pulsing and extravasating coldness. He slopes and presses the flat of his tongue to lap up at your thick ichor, mewling at your taste the same time you gasp out silent screams at his relentless fucking.

“You taste so fucking amazing,” he murmurs against your now blood-deluged flesh. Eddie consumes it all. “Wish I could just fucking carve my name onto you.”

You clench tight onto him, like you’re sucking him into you. Eddie’s eyes roll to the back of his head.

“Oh- oh, she likes that, doesn’t she?”

“Do that—shit, oh!– do that next t-time,” you giggle onto his hair that you clutch like a vice, his hot tongue continues swimming arousal down your split cunt.

His skin slapping against yours sounded like a hypnotizing siren, which kind of ameliorates the bawdiness of the shlick sounds of your pussy engulfing his luxuriant dick.

Eddie stabs the knife down on the countertop, places a hand behind you and the other wrapped around your sweaty waist and fucks you into oblivion. Your moans become carnally loud, enough to drive the neighbors away but also enough to appease your boyfriend.

And at each thrust—everytime he pulls you down to meet his hips—your orgasm protrudes on you like a knife. Closer and closer until it’s deep into your flesh and almost peeking out of your epidermis. You mewl into Eddie’s ear.

“I’m gonna cum,” you choke out. “Fuck– don’t– don’t stop. Don’t stop, don't stop, don't stop.”

Shameless, mimicked wails of ecstasy, cascading into soft ‘uhs’ when your lips dance across his earlobe. Eddie wedges his thumb between the place that leaves him wondering where he starts and where he ends, rubs your bundle of nerves that has been grinding against his coarse pubes in perpetuity.

“Gonna cum for me, sweetheart?” he grunts against your temple. “Go–shit–a-and cum for me, baby. Come on. Be a good girl and cum,”

Obeying him, you gush all over his sensitive cock that spills inside your trembling walls. Your hips stutter in the air, clenching, cunt guzzing all of his spunk. Eddie lets out one last moan before he slumps against you, his curls sticking to your skin.

You pull away, finally meeting Eddie’s usual wide, baby brown eyes full of wonder and excitement. “Hi.”

“Hi sweetheart,” Eddie kisses your cheek. “You did amazing, babe,” while he doesn't pull out, he does pull his hand out for a high five. Your palm meets his. “Love the crying bit, by the way. You could be in, like, a Stanley Kubrick film.”

Eddie pushes your hair behind your ears and leaves a peck on your lips as he swipes the sweat away.

“You said you wanted the roleplay to be convincing,” you argue playfully. “I seriously don’t like how you touched my dad’s collection, Eds,”

“It was for a good cause,” his cock softens inside you, and so does Eddie. “Baby, I didn’t scare you, did I?”

“Not at all,” you wrap your arms lazily around his neck, brushing his hair. “We signed up for this, remember? Killing them has always been our plan before we left. We just added the sex thing to have some fun,”

“You’re right,” he nods, eyes squinting. “No porn film can exceed the greatness of our roleplay. The killer, and the helpless little lamb. Shit, that could be the title,”

“The Horny Killer, and The Sexy Little Lamb,”

“Better,” Eddie kisses your nose, you giggle. “Wanna see Jason and Chance’s bodies?”

A year ago, your patience had been bound tightly around your heart. You were understanding, kind; nothing but a vestibule of angelicum.

That is, until you met the devil that succumbed into your sinful desires.

Eddie wasn’t like this before. But truthfully, he actually did just snap. He let all his frustrations go—from watching the light leave someone’s eyes, to fucking you like there’s no tomorrow.

His van doors open, tossing Andy’s heavy body into the back, right between Jason and Chance’s horrifyingly mutilated bodies. All their skins pale and their eyes defunct. You place your hands on your hips.

“Where’s Patrick?” you ask him.

“He was nice. Didn’t have the heart to kill him,” he pouts, wrapping his arm around your back and kissing your temple. “I was thinking of hanging them at the gym tomorrow on the last day? Right before I kill Principal Higgins?”

“Sounds like a great idea,” you rest your head on his shoulder.

Originally, you only planned on roleplaying. No murder, no knives, no fright, no blood. But there’s no harm in going a little bit psycho with this whole sex extravaganza. Everyone had their own kinks.

You’re just lucky enough Eddie felt the same.

You pick up the mask and put it over your head, Eddie’s faint scent of cigarettes and alcohol burning your nose. “I get to wear this next time, right?”

“Of course,” Eddie smiles. “But, you get to carve your initials on me next time.”

“Deal.”

reblogs and feedbacks are appreciated ♡

#eddie munson one shot #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfiction #ghostface!eddie #eddie munson #stranger things x reader #stranger things smut

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penaltyboxboxbox · 9 months

Note

any genderbend headcanons you would like to share 👀????

YEAH....YEAH I DO....theyre all pretty random and non specific but if you want to hear me ramble about my girl drivers here u go

Charles: she's a non conventional fashion girlie...........she likes to dress quite femininely and and gets a lot of fashion based brand deals so she is often pairing skirts and such with her sportswear and it sometimes looks a bit silly. a lot of her fits are like...is it a fit or is she just really pretty and wearing designer lol. the skirt i drew her in is what I THINK would be her version of the quali pants, it's this knit skirt from gucci 💁‍♂️

Carlos: she is like two steps away from being a high bun lesbian. still keeps her FEM VIBES mostly because of family pressure. but the second she gets put in a dress its all a little . hm. youre a masc arent you.

Pierre: happy to be the paddock baddie like....she embraces it fully. she got a boob job and doesnt care if people know. constantly hints at being bisexual on instagram but will never confirm.

Esteban: the girl who had the most major glow up............and who has also had a bob her whole gd life. literally lives in a lulu jacket and yoga pants like its her uniform. she and pierre had the most toxic codependent girl friendship of all time. she's soooo so so tall and always got mad growing up because none of the boys liked her cause she was taller than them and got teased about it....still tall as fuck

Lance: my tall and beautiful wife...every few months she chops her bangs too short and everyone cries until they grow out again. she hates having hair in her eyes.... hates dresses and heels since she always sits with her legs out...gotta be comfy duh..

Fernando: milflonso............she was an it girl in her youth and then got divorced and came out as a lesbian and became an irresistible masc

George: the preppiest girl you can imagine she will never cut her hair AND she will wear a skort. extreme complex about being a tall girl.

Lewis: ultimate fashionista like she gets it....changes her hair a lot more than boy lewis....extremely in denial lesbian who dates the gayest men imaginable

Yuki: shes a hey mamas lesbian. she flirts so hard with pierre from like eye level with her huge boobs. kind of a fuckboy she swears she'll treat you rightttt come on babyyyy

Daniel: used to be such a hotgirl such a coolgirl like in her younger days she had long long hair and dressed sexy and was all about pushing this like....im a hot girl but im also so cool and just like the boys 😜 (she was overcompensating for something) but after she leaves redbull she like cuts off all her hair and slowly starts mascing the fuck out as she gets older.....now shes just straight up soft butch and everyone knows she kisses girls

Max: grew up forced to have the worst bowlcut in the world and never got to be very girly or anything so when she grew up she finally let her hair grow long and never cuts it. has barely any personal style and still cannot walk in heels tho.

Checo: arguably the one who cleans up the best like shes the one with the makeover montage everyone is so used to seeing her in red bull gear and a ponytail every damn day the second she puts on an outfit everyones like HELLO?????

Valtteri: used to be permanently in the low pony tail and attempting to dress acceptably business casual woman enough for things but after she left merc just embraced being a butch. has the same mullet as guy val. hallelujah

Guanyu: suuuuuch a fashion girl and absolutely rules instagram and weibo..........always doing photoshoots and stuff. experiments with cute hairstyles a lot, but always keeps her bangs ☝️

Alex: used to be super plain like wore big hoodies and just left her hair long and straight and hanging there until one day she got the chop+undercut going on.......now shes well aware shes everyones ideal boyfriend if he were a girlfriend.

Logan: my florida girl......my natural blonde with her little ponytail.....when she was growing up her parents definitely put her shirts like this

Lando: she is a racing driver as much as she is an influencer.............people discourse about if shes fanservicing like every 2 seconds. girl gamer and proud.

Oscar: she lives in gym clothes. nike pros or leggings every day with the most boring shirt. never does her hair or wears makeup

KMag: best mom everrrrrrr 🫶

Nico: she talks openly about how men are very intimidated by her. she is indeed kind of scary.

#ask #genderbend

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frudoo · 2 months

Note

You asked for asks

How would the Thomas Hewitt n fam react to another cannibal 'hunting on their territory'?

Girls gotta eat

The obvious answer would be to send Tommy out to… y’know… buzz chop squelch

But maybe… just maybe…

Warnings: Blood consumption, I mean... it's a fam of cannibals I think you know what you're getting into. Fem!Reader.

Thomas cocks his head to the side, eyes narrowed beneath the unruly tufts of hair that fall in his face. There’s not a group of people wandering around the field like he was led to believe, just one figure scrambling around like a feral animal. He revs up the chainsaw again, but instead of running in fear, the person whips her head around and smiles when she sees him. For once, Tommy is the one who feels like he should be the one running as the girl sprints towards him.

“You,” she says, wide-eyed and reaching out toward the weapon in his hands.

The masked man breathes heavily, frozen, as the person before him swipes her finger through the blood on the saw and sticks it into her mouth with a satisfied moan.

“Please,” she whispers, bringing out two more fingers to repeat the gesture. “I’m so hungry. Please.”

Luda May’s voice rings in the back of his mind—instincts that tell him to defend himself, that people are bad and will only seek to destroy him and the rest of his family. But this girl’s eyes are soft and warm, and he can nearly hear her belly growling with hunger. Tommy knows what it’s like to be hungry, unsatiated, abandoned.

The girl squeals with delight when he drops the chainsaw to the ground in favor of throwing her over his shoulder instead, carrying her home where he knows she’ll get a good meal.

Hoyt is furious, nearly shaking when he sees his giant of a brother holding the bitch he’d ordered him to kill with tender care. Spit flies from the man’s mouth as he screams at Tommy, trying to pry the girl off of him to no avail. Monty is unimpressed, rolling his eyes as Thomas sits the strange girl down at the table. Luda May doesn’t have much of a reaction—in fact, she seems rather content to have a new member of the family.

Tommy stands behind the girl’s chair protectively while Luda May passes her a bowl of stew that she’d been cooking. The stranger eats like she hasn’t in a while, and something about seeing her get her fill makes him happy. The meat is familiar to her, and she knows, they all know, she’ll fit right in.

#ask me!#thomas hewitt x reader #tommy hewitt x reader #slashers #slashers x reader #texas chainsaw massacre

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dozing-marshmallow · 1 year

Note

OKAY OKAY, hello again!! loved the nibling reader you wrote and just had to write it again!!! (if you couldn't tell im a sucker for platonic family hcs <3)

this time, this request is quite angsty?? ig nibling!reader getting their feelings hurt (either by duncan, heather, or whoever you decide to choose!) you can decide if they either run to chris to cry to, or if they run away to a more.. deserted(??) area of the island. (bonus points if after reader feels better, leshawna comforts them <:]) thank yeww!!

HIYAAA!! Lovely seeing you again with another appreciated request, and to hear that you are happy with how I interpret a Chris nibling reader! It means a lot ! <3

As always, have an enjoyable reading experience! 😊

ANGSTY! CHRIS MCLEAN’S NIBLING! READER HEADCANONS

Heather was on the chopping block.

She needed to do something urgently. The day wasn’t getting any earlier. Everyone was itching to cast her name out of the competition.

Immunity wasn’t in her favour this time.

She needs to find a reason asap to not be kicked out tonight. That there was actually someone around that was a much bigger threat to everyon-

...Everyone?

...

Jackpot.

“You know that...toy Chris’ nibling has? I need you to get it for me.” Heather beseeched bluntly to Lindsay, hours before the elimination ceremony, in the whistling privacy of the forest.

“Um, sure?” The blonde’s voice high pitched from stupidity agreed,“But why can’t you go ask yourself? (Y/N) doesn’t bite! Not people!”

“Because Lindsay...I...gotta make sure I’m presentable! My hands need to be in perfect condition.” It was a strange excuse, but Lindsay was narrow.

“Ohh, right! Gotcha.” If anything, she found relatability in such empty words.

Too easy,“When you get it, come straight back here. You can remember that, can’t you?”

“Ohh, totally! In geography, I-“

“Go get the teddy.” Heather interrupts dismissively.

“Okay...” she watches moody Lindsay’s height get smaller and smaller as she disappears more and more to carry out one last request.

You were sitting on the sand with your legs spread out when you saw the pretty blonde girl approach you,“Hi Lindsay!”

“Hii (Y/N)! Is that Mrs Maple?” She pointed at the stuffed bear, dressed in a shirt of the Canada flag.

You nod,“She’s having a suntan!”

“Oooo, she’s a lot like me! We both love being trendy!” Ask to get the teddy, ask to get the teddy,“Could I hold her? I...wanna see if we’re really on the same wavelength!” She zealously asks.

You hesitate. You never really let that happen.

You hold Mrs Maple by her underarms and stare far into her black eyes, before you nod and hand her over.

“Thanks! Aww... It’s such a cute bear!...Oh...wait...” She remembers her objection, and gawks back at you,“I think I hear her talking! She said she wants me to uh, get some syrup for her! Gotta go!”

Before you could protest, she races away.

That’s weird... Mrs Maple is shy when she meets new people...

Oh! It must be a coverup for a game of tag.

Thus, you got to your feet and ran the same way she did, following her footprints in the sand, smiling. Challenge accepted!

“Hey...! Heather!” She wheezes, holding the teddy to her,“I got it!”

“Good.” She hears a distant “Wait up!” which melts a glare on her face to Lindsay,“You let them follow you?”

“Ohh... I didn’t know they would. But they sound like they’re having fun!” Lindsay found much virtue in it.

“Yeah... A lot of fun.” The wicked glimmer of Heather’s smile shifts to the blades of a pair of scissors she sharpened out, offering them to Lindsay,“Cut the head off.”

...

Lindsay is mortified.

“Wh-What?!” She stutters, clearly having the full ugly picture confidential to her up until now,“I don’t understand, I-I thought you wanted it to see it!”

“Yeah, and to mutilate it.” She snaps the scissors together,“Take.”

“I can’t! I won’t!” She yelled, holding Mrs Maple to the other side,“This teddy is (Y/N)’s whole astronomy, and she didn’t do anything to deserve decapitation! Besides, I-I was the one that took it so, it’d make it look like it was my idea!”

“Right on.” Heather snarled, Lindsay’s out of nowhere refusal not being part of the plan- she could threaten her position in the alliance, but eh, not much of a point if... Oh well. She did do the difficult part so there was nothing hard about snatching the teddy right from Lindsay’s hands and rapidly tearing the head off faster than she could blink.

“Heather! What are you doing?!” She screeched.

The sick image of stuffed cotton overflowing from both ends of the teddy to the ground.

Mrs Maple’s head was now a teddy of its own.

“There.” She pushes the two pieces back into Lindsay’s shaking hands,“Now you can give this back. Or should I say, these.” A malicious smile raises on her pale lips.

“Oh my God... You’re gonna be in so much trouble!”

“No. You’re gonna be in so much trouble.” Heather reiterated victoriously,“Later!”

She sprints away.

“Hey! Come back, this is your doing!” official that Heather wasn’t going to come back, Lindsay bites down on her bottom lip as she desperately tried useless methods of fixing it such as seeing if the head could stay on the neck by itself or licking her finger to try stick the separated body parts together.

Nothing worked.

I...I didn’t know bears bleed white fluff!

“Lindsay...?”

The one voice she wished she didn’t hear then.

She swiftly hides her hands behind her back and faces the small child, whose shoes and hands were dirty from running and falling, twitching on a nervous smile,“(Y/N)! Y-You’re here! That’s so...great!”

“Could I have Mrs Maple back now please? Her social battery must be so dead by now...” you asked, coming towards her wobbly from running so much.

“Oh um, well, see uh...” her falling on her words didn’t help her case. Hey! She can’t do these things under pressure!

Your face drops,“You...lost her?”

“No! She’s...” she sighs, divulging her heavy hands,“Here. I-I can explain-!”

Immediately, your eyes stung deeper than a wasp’s.

She was showing you your worst nightmare.

Someone you trusted.

“What...?” It was rather unsightly. It... This couldn’t be happening...

“I promise I didn’t do it! It was Heather! It was Heather’s idea, I swear! I didn’t know she wanted to do that!” Lindsay broke down to plead her innocence, guilt stronger than her mascara.

Pulse bellowed in your ears,“Heather...did this?”

A sweet baby returning lifeless by the neglect of the babysitter. Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry,“I...It’s okay...It’s...okay.”

Proving wrong after five seconds of eerie silence, by the destructive wave of your cries. Before Lindsay could try consoling you (try being very needed), you ran away.

How could you do that? Trust Lindsay of all people? You’ve never had a greater ocean of self hatred flood your insides.

Oh man it did not feel nice.

Chris didn’t predict his nibling to run to him bawling, so he was very caught by surprise. It took him time to properly ask what was wrong given that he had to fully acknowledge that you were hurt, tremendously.

You’re so overwhelmed, you can barely speak. Your wails hold you by the throat and your face never more pinched. All Chris could do is hold you and wait for you to calm down enough to vocalise the root of your distress; whoever was responsible for that was done for.

You hiccuped,“M-My ted...ted... H-Hea...Heath...Heath...”

“Yeah, I can’t understand you,“ he nods at Chef to get a cup of water. Once obtained, he gently urged you to take your head off his body so you could drink it.

Already, your breathing was restoring back to normal and your mouth was empty.

“Better? Alright.” He pats a tissue to your face,“Tell Uncle Chris what’s gotten you all choked up.”

The evocation of it was enough to get you bawling again, and you felt that you had already burdened your uncle enough by disrupting his chat with Chef. So you decide to put the first line of context into words,“I gave Mrs Maple to Lindsay and...” then deciding to show him the pieces. He could figure it out, he’s smart.

“Oh sweet child.” he takes them in his hands, wrinkles forming under his dilated eyes in pure perturbation from what he was seeing. No wonder you were so devastated! He’ll admit, he kinda expected something like this, but not by the intention of other people,“Lindsay did this?”

“I... I don’t know...” your head is light,“She kept saying it’s Heather’s fault, but... I’m still upset I gave it to her in the first place...”

“We’ll check the camera footage, but either way, somebody isn’t going to go through just elimination tonight.” He’ll make sure of that. He takes his sight off you to place the parts of your beloved teddy down on the table, being very gravely mistaken for something else.

“Don’t throw her away!” You shriek, pulling onto his shirt of dark turquoise to prevent him from such,“Please, I’ve had her for a long time! Don’t make me get rid of her!”

He’s once again dismayed, but his tone grew resistance this time,“We won’t be doing that. It’s just the head that came off, soo we’ll sew it back on and maybe clean her. She’ll be as good as new.”

You wipe your nose,“Really?” Thank God.

He nods, stroking the top of your head,“I’ll have Chef work on it right away. As for me, I have other business to attend to. It’s all gonna be solved, I promise.”

Your tears were no more,“Thanks, Chris...” you’re serious. You don’t know what you would’ve done if he wasn’t there,“Do you think we could...play board games tonight?”

“Totally!” Best uncle ever,“We’ll do all your favourite games and we can stay up allll night. How’s that sound?”

See? Chris wasn’t exactly the best at people comforting, but when it came to the very few people he held dear, that’s when he’s serious.

Knowing how teenagers were, especially of Heather’s textbook, he couldn’t expect a lecture to turn her heart.

But he did enforce a warning to them that harassment was off limits on those who weren’t participating.

How?

You don’t want to know.

“Hey sweetie.” Leshawna came and sat next to you during your wait for your uncle to tell you he’s free to begin board game night,“How are ya? Feeling a little bit better?” By this time, Mrs Maple was one piece again.

You’re way too disturbed to treat her the slightest of play,“Yeah... I just... I never felt so sad in my life. I practically watched someone close to me die. When...I saw that...she was torn in two, so did my heart.”

“Aww.” she curves her hand around you and rests her head on yours,“Sorry you went through that, some people can be so miserable. You ain’t meant to be feeling all this sad, gloomy things we teens do. You just a kid!”

“I’m never giving Mrs Maple to anyone again.” Your decision thrived of bitterness.

“And that’s completely fine. She’s your toy, no one should force you to do anything you don’t wanna with her. It’s alright to be hurt, but you gotta make sure that the way you handle it is the best way to let you move on sooner.”

“Is...Is Heather going home tonight?” you needed to know. It may have been there, but you needed to hear it.

“Oh, totally. Girl dug her own grave and now, she may need to retake her passport photo.” Leshawna chuckles at the thought,“I mean, to go after a kid who did nothing and still be too much of a chicken to own up? Way out of line.”

“Will I always have to meet someone as nasty as her...?” Your puffy eyes set back to the newly placed stitches on Mrs Maple’s neck.

Leshawna sighs, rubbing your shoulder,“Unfortunately in this world we live in, there’s all kinds of sick freaks and Heather is just one of them. But you shouldn’t waste your life worryin’ about them, because there’s also really great people in your life that will always wanna look out for you, and it’s them you really wanna spend time on, ain’t it?”

“Like you?”

She smiled,“Come here, sugar.”

You felt safe enough to let Mrs Maple join in. Leshawna...she’s amazing. And would make a great big sister, if she wasn’t one already.❤️🩹

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