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okaylikeschaewon · 2 months

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KAMPFyre: Part 2 - Convinced

“Are you serious?”

“Yeah, I don’t see the issue. I feel like it actually worked.”

“Oh my God!” Karina shouted, her voice brimming with exasperation. “How do you not realize that this guy basically just convinced you to give him a blowjob?”

“He seemed really kind, though,” Winter pleaded, starting to get embarrassed. “He did it to help me.”

“Help you? You realize it makes no sense, right? Letting a guy cum down your throat isn’t going to help your vocals.”

“He said it did, and I believe him,” Winter muttered quietly, looking down at her feet.

“Yeah?” Karina scoffed, crossing her arms. “Did he also say you’d dance better if he fucked you?”

“No! He never tried to force anything like that!” Winter argued back. “I’m not stupid.”

“So it was just a blowjob? That’s a relief at least,” Karina sighed, letting her arms fall to the side. “At least you didn’t do anything really stupid.”

“Y-Yeah, just a blowjob,” Winter lied, avoiding eye contact with her bandmate. “Please don’t tell anyone else.”

“Come here,” Karina said while pulling Winter into a hug. “I won’t tell anyone. In the future, be more careful, okay?”

“I’m sorry,” Winter whispered.

“It’s fine, no one else will find out,” Karina reassured her while patting her back. “It’s in his best interest to keep this a secret, not that anyone would believe him even if he did speak up.”

“I’m really dumb, aren’t I?” Winter asked while standing up, pouting at Karina.

“No, you’re not really dumb,” Karina sighed. “It’s fine, you learned a lesson, that doesn’t make you dumb.”

Winter nodded, feeling a bit better about the whole ordeal.

“So, how’d it taste?” Karina asked casually.

“What? I’m not answering that!” Winter replied angrily.

“Come on, what’s done is done,” Karina chuckled. “We might as well talk about it now, it was your first blowjob, right?”

“Yeah, my first.”

“So how was it? It’s honestly kinda exciting,” Karina pushed. “I still remember mine.”

“You go first,” Winter said, her face getting warm.

“Well, he didn’t last very long at all,” Karina said, thinking back. “He wouldn’t stop apologizing for finishing in my mouth so quickly.”

“Did you like the taste?” Winter asked, her curiosity taking over.

“I loved it,” Karina gushed. “I let him play with my tits for like two minutes, and then as soon as my lips hit his cock he filled my mouth. He barely lasted thirty seconds.”

“Wow,” Winter sighed. “Mine took… a bit more effort.”

Karina cocked an eyebrow. “Don’t feel bad, every guy is different,” she added. “You got there eventually, not every girl can do that.”

“Yeah…” Winter exhaled. “I don’t think it tasted bad, but it felt so weird.”

“You’re just not used to it,” Karina laughed. “Since apparently you love giving random dudes blowjobs now, maybe you’ll find someone whose taste you like.”

“Hey! I don’t,” Winter whined while angrily walking away.

“Where are you going, I was kidding!” Karina shouted after her.

“Going for a walk,” Winter mumbled before leaving the room.

Karina sat there with her eyes squinted at the door, suspicious of what Winter was getting up to, debating internally whether or not she should follow after her.

“I can’t believe that happened,” Karina whispered softly while returning her attention to her phone.

—

“I can’t believe that happened,” you muttered to yourself, still in absolute shock as you sat on the couch, scrolling your phone to find out more about Aespa. Apparently they were quite popular, which made sense seeing as how they were closing. Winter also had a bandmate who caught your eye, Karina - she was stunning.

Suddenly, there was a very aggressive knock on the door. You got up, quickly running your hand through your hair and fixing your clothes to look presentable. As soon as you opened it, you were pushed back into the room.

“Did you lie?” Winter demanded, glaring at you.

“Lie about what?”

“You know what I’m talking about,” she hissed, her angry expression being unintentionally adorable. “The load thing, was it all made up?”

“Winter, you agreed to do it,” you argued, trying to calm her down. “It was my first time hearing about the… technique… but I think it actually did work.”

Her expression suddenly softened a bit.

“Do you mean that?”

“Yeah, I do,” you lied while grabbing her hand. “What got into you? Just a bit ago you were so excited and happy about it.”

“I told one of my friends,” Winter sighed, slouching her shoulders. “She basically called me an idiot.”

“You’re not an idiot,” you said kindly, pushing her hair back over her ear. “I’m sorry if you feel like I tricked you, that wasn’t my intention.”

“I told her that!” Winter said, her spirits lifting. “I really don’t think you did either. I’m sorry for this, I think I’m just super nervous about tonight.”

“Hey don’t worry about it, I completely understand.”

After a bit of an awkward pause where the two of you simply stood there holding hands, Winter spoke up again.

“Did you really like my voice more afterwards?”

“I did,” you answered, despite not noticing any difference. “I don’t know how I can make you believe it.”

“You don’t have to, I believe you already,” she smiled warmly at you. “I just knew I could trust you.”

“Uh, yeah,” you were starting to feel guilty. This girl was unbelievably naive and it was starting to weigh on you.

“Could I ask another favor of you?” Winter asked, stepping closer to you.

“Yeah, of course.”

“Do you think I could try again?”

This had to be a joke - you were almost convinced there were hidden cameras watching you now.

“What do you mean ‘try again’?” you clarified, reluctant to jump to any conclusions.

“Well, my friend told me she could make a guy cum just by touching her lips to his cock, I want to learn how,” Winter explained as she dropped down to her knees in front of you. “Could you please guide me?”

“I don’t know if this is right,” you hesitated as Winter began unbuckling your pants.

“Why not? You were happy to help me earlier without thinking twice about it,” Winter argued. “What will it take to get more help?”

“It’s not like that, I want to help,” you answered. “But if we got caught, or if you told anyone again, I’d get in so much trouble.”

“Please,” Winter begged. “I promise I won’t tell anyone.”

“As much as I want to believe it, you did just tell me that you told your friend.”

“I’m sorry, she won’t tell anyone else, please!” Winter begged, she almost looked like she was about to cry.

“Okay okay, it’s fine,” you calmed her down, if she was this desperate to suck your cock then who were you to say no. “Alright, go lock the door and then take off your clothes,” you instructed her.

Unable to believe this was about to happen, you walked over to the couch and sat down. Winter quickly ran over to you and wasted no time in stripping down to her underwear.

“Do you want me to take it all off?” she asked eagerly as she unbuckled her bra, tossing it to the side.

“Yeah, it’ll be better that way.”

She nodded and dropped her panties down, picking them off up off the floor and placing them on top of the pile of her clothes.

“Here,” you tossed a pillow onto the floor between your legs.

Winter dropped to her knees in front of you, eagerly waiting for your next instruction. You pulled your pants down to your ankles

“Start by using your tongue,” you suggested.

She nodded her head and leaned forward, sticking her tongue out and giving your shaft a lick. It was adorable how she licked up and down your shaft, not knowing exactly what to do, but doing it so passionately.

“Good, keep going,” you encouraged her.

The girl kept working, licking each side of your cock. Up and down she licked, spreading her saliva all over. Then she started working your tip, licking circles around it.

“Oh yeah Winter, you’re getting good at that,” you moaned, closing your eyes as her tongue coated your cock. “Lick my balls too.”

She was definitely a great listener. Without a moment’s delay, you felt her soft tongue press against your nuts, licking every single bit of skin. She put them into your mouth, still licking them while she sucked with all her strength.

“Good fucking girl,” you moaned again. “Now try taking my whole cock down your throat.”

This was something you had to see. You opened your eyes back up as she lifted her body up slightly to get a better angle. She took a deep breath before engulfing half of your cock and then pausing.

“You got this,” you encouraged her as she struggled to go deeper. “Come on.”

She was pushing as hard as she could, her face getting slightly red. She got about three quarters of the way down your shaft before pulling it out and gasping for air.

“I can’t, it’s like there’s a wall,” she coughed, a trail of saliva connecting her lips to your cock still.

“It just takes practice, try again,” you reassured her gently. “Whenever you’re ready.”

She wiped the back of her mouth with her hand and took another deep breath. After giving you a look of determination, she once again turned her attention to your cock, this time immediately plunging back down to the same depth she reached last time.

“Oh fuck,” you gasped, watching her mouth stretch as she tried her hardest to push down.

It felt fucking amazing having her struggling to take your cock. The willingness was what really did it for you. Without thinking, you placed a hand on the back of her head and gave her a small push. Your cock went deeper down her neck for a moment before she immediately pulled back.

“I’m sor-”

“I did it!” she cheered. “It felt like the wall just disappeared for a second, I guess I just needed a small push! Thank you!”

“N-No problem,” you stammered, taken aback by her reaction. “Here, come up here.”

Winter got up off her knees and climbed onto the couch so that she was on her knees next to you, bending over your crotch.

“Try to relax your neck,” you instructed her as you grabbed her head with your hands and guided her back to your cock. “I’m going to help you, just let it happen.”

“Mhmm,” Winter agreed, her mouth already filled with your cock.

She moved up and down a couple of times on her own as you gave her a moment to adjust to the new position. After a few more, you pressed your hand down against the back of her head, forcing your cock down her throat.

This time, she managed to make it all the way down before launching back up and coughing. Before you could ask if she was alright, she had already pushed her mouth onto your cock. Again, you pressed the back of her head until she went all the way down, but this time she didn’t pull out - she moved back about halfway before pushing back down onto your cock.

“Oh fuck yes Winter,” you moaned loudly. “Now you got it.”

It went on for a few minutes where nothing but the sound of Winter gagging on your cock could be heard in the room. She’d pull back halfway, then push down all the way with the help of your hand. With each consecutive thrust, you felt less and less need to push with your hand - It was starting to get easier for her.

At this point, you were barely pushing the back of her head. You started to push your hips upwards, matching her pace so that each time she plunged down onto your cock you would shove your hips into her mouth.

Your free hand began to explore her body, reaching over and grabbing a handful of her ass. You squeezed it hard, gave it a few slaps, but nothing stopped the girl from throating your cock again and again. She was determined and it showed.

“Holy fuck I’m getting close,” you gasped, feeling the pressure building up. “Wait, stop.”

Winter released your cock with a plop and turned her head sideways to look up at you.

“I thought you were getting close?” she asked innocently.

“I am, I want to do it properly,” you answered, standing up from the couch and getting in front of her. “I’m going to fuck your mouth until I cum, alright?”

She nodded eagerly, sitting down and looking up at you.

“You’re doing a fantastic job,” you complimented the girl as you brought your cock to her mouth.

She opened up with a smile before you shoved your cock into her mouth. Just like last time, you started to slam your cock into her mouth relentlessly. With a firm grip on her head with both of your hands, you started thrusting with all your energy, slamming your balls into her chin each time.

The intensity of it forced Winter to grab your thighs for support, but she held strong. She took your cock like a champ, not fighting against it at all, letting you use her throat for your own pleasure.

“I’m about to cum,” you warned her, a mere two seconds before it happened.

It wasn’t clear if she even heard you, but as soon as you felt it happen, you pushed your cock as deep down her throat as you could. You held her nose to your crotch, making sure she could feel each and every gush of cum launching out of your cock.

“Fuck yes,” you gasped, letting your cock empty itself into the cute girl’s mouth.

Once it finally felt thoroughly emptied, you let go of Winter’s head. She didn’t immediately release your cock, she slowly pulled back - it was reassuring to know that she wasn’t struggling. A bit of your cum spilled out of her mouth, sliding down her chin.

“Here, let’s not waste any,” you grabbed your cock and used it to scoop up any of the white mess that escaped her lips.

She gracefully opened her mouth to suck the cum off your tip until it was all clean. After swallowing as much as she could collect, she closed her eyes and sat there obediently as you began rubbing your cock all over her face.

“What the fuck is going on here?”

Instinctually you pulled your cock away from Winter’s face and turned around, covering your junk with your hands. In the doorway stood Karina, the girl you had looked up earlier, Winter’s bandmate.

“I thought I told you to lock the door,” you whispered to Winter.

“I thought I did!” she defended herself.

Karina closed the door behind her and walked into the room, right in front of the two of you. The anger in her eyes was somewhat terrifying, but it was difficult to not be blown away by her beauty even in this moment of anger.

“So, you’re the one lying to my friend?” Karina hissed, staring right into your eyes.

“He’s not lying to me,” Winter protested from the couch.

“Shut up,” Karina turned her attention to Winter. “And why the hell are you naked?”

Winter sheepishly crossed her arms and legs to cover up.

“No point covering up now, you have no dignity left to maintain,” Karina scolded her. “And you, why are you also trying to cover up? Come on, move your hands, you clearly have no shame.”

It was odd, you couldn’t explain why you listened to her, but you moved your arms aside so that your messy cock was in the open. Perhaps it was because Karina was so fucking beautiful, you just had to listen to her. As she took a look at it, she seemed to pause for a second, losing her train of thought momentarily before snapping back into reality.

“So who’s going to explain what the fuck is going on here.”

“It was my idea,” Winter mumbled from the couch. “I was jealous of what you said, I wanted to get better at it.”

The tone in the room immediately shifted. Karina crouched down next to Winter, wearing a soft expression on her face.

“Hey,” Karina put a hand on Winter’s thigh. “I didn’t tell you that stuff to make you feel bad, it’s not a competition.”

“If it was, I’d be losing.”

“It’s not,” Karina repeated herself.

“And I know you think I’m stupid for thinking swallowing cum helps my voice,” Winter continued, the sadness felt in each syllable of her words. “But I really believe it.”

“I…” Karina looked torn, not knowing how to tell her friend she was an idiot while also not hurting her feelings. “Look, I don’t think you’re stupid for believing it, maybe it does work for some people, and maybe you’re one of those people. I don’t think it’s dumb to try.”

“You really mean it?” Winter looked up at Karina with hopeful eyes.

“Yeah, it can’t hurt to try, right?” Karina smiled back at Winter.

“Did you want to try?” you asked, suddenly feeling audacious enough to take the opportunity at hand. You wanted to see how far this beauty of a girl would go to make her friend feel better. “Maybe it works for you, too?”

Before Karina could even speak, Winter lit up in excitement.

“That’s a great idea!” Winter cheered. “Like you said, it can’t hurt to try! And then I could also learn how it’s done properly!”

“W-What…” Karina began to stammer. She was stuck and she knew it.

This felt like a fever dream. Standing there with your rock hard cock out while this drop-dead gorgeous girl consoled her nude friend. It made literally no sense. What made even less sense was what Karina decided to do next.

“I… guess I could…” she sighed, gasping as Winter jumped up from the couch and hugged her.

“Thank you for believing!”

“No problem…” Karina answered half-heartedly while she glared at you over Winter’s shoulder.

After letting go of Karina, Winter got up and sat on the couch where you joined her. Karina slowly dropped down to her knees, lifting her arms up behind her head to tie her hair into a bun. Your cock was already itching to blow again, and you tried to mentally prepare for what was about to happen, but you knew already there was no chance you’d be able to last very long.

Winter watched intently as Karina began to lean forward, giving you a clear view of her very deep cleavage. Karina didn’t even bother using her hands, she brought her lips to your tip and slowly parted them, engulfing your cock slowly.

The way she slowly inched your cock down her throat in its entirety made you realize immediately that this girl knew what she was doing. Just as slowly as she swallowed your whole cock, she moved back up until only your tip was in her mouth. She licked at your hole a couple of times before slowly going back down your cock.

Winter was in shock, watching her friend take your entire length with ease. You almost felt bad as you were reminded of how much the girl was gagging on your cock just moments ago, but those feelings lasted barely seconds as Karina’s mouth was taking over all your senses.

Just as you predicted, this was going to be fast. As Karina bobbed up and down your cock, you could feel the pressure building up already - It was almost embarrassing. She started to move faster, steadily increasing her speed, consistently taking your entire length down her throat with each pump.

Karina’s lips made a tight seal around your cock. Perfect, it meant not a single drop of cum would be wasted. She kept her lips tight, up and down your cock, using her tongue every time she came back up to coax your load out of you. It was working - much faster than your prediction even.

The thought of warning her as you were about to blow crossed your mind, but when you remembered that sexy glare of hers from earlier, you decided against it. You’d probably feel bad about it, however right now everything felt right. She was fucking amazing at sucking your cock.

One final little lick of your tip was all it took. You started unloading ropes down her throat. Karina jolted as the first spurt shot into her mouth, but just as you predicted, she kept her lips tight around your shaft. By the time your second and third shots of cum surged out of your tip, Karina had already pushed her mouth down your cock. She held her mouth at your base until you finished unloading.

Then, as slowly as physically possible, she began lifting her mouth off your cock. She stared at you with that burning passion in her eyes, those unrealistically beautiful eyes, before tilting her head back slightly and parting her lips, showing you all the fresh cum on her tongue.

Winter squealed in excitement, covering her mouth and watching intently as Karina then closed her mouth again. In one singular motion, Karina swallowed, wiping her lips with the back of her hand.

“That was so impressive,” Winter gushed, in awe at what her friend just did. “Can I try again?”

It took great effort to not burst out laughing at the absurdity of her words, but you held it together. You leaned back into the couch, breathing heavily as your cock softened in front of Karina’s face, finally receiving some much-needed rest.

“Not now, you need to go get ready,” Karina replied to Winter’s request while keeping her eyes locked on you.

Winter quickly hopped off the couch and started putting her clothes back on. Even though you could see her in your periphery, your eyes were fixated on Karina. The two of you stared at each other, it wasn’t entirely clear what was going on in her head.

“Are you not coming?” Winter asked after getting dressed.

“You go, I’ll catch up in a minute,” Karina said, still staring at you.

No more words were spoken until Winter left the room and closed the door behind her. The pause felt like an eternity, only being broken up by the sound of your deep breaths.

“A warning would have been nice,” Karina broke the silence casually.

That was not what you expected. You thought she’d be mad at you or threaten you or yell at you or all of the above.

“My bad, I was lost in the moment,” you responded, equally casually. “You’re pretty good at that, by the way.”

“I know,” Karina commented confidently.

There was a moment of awkward silence between the two of you.

“So…” you began to speak before Karina cut you off.

“What are you doing after the show?”

---

A/N:

Random inspiration, wrote this in basically one evening. I know it's not super long or anything, but this mini series is very much just a fun side project! I don't know exactly why I find so much enjoyment in writing such a ridiculous scenario, but hopefully someone else enjoys this silliness as much as I do.

Karina is very hot. Bit of a cliffhanger at the end I guess, but I'll just confirm now; Whenever I do get to writing the next part, it will probably be very Karina heavy. I don't know, I'm just on a bit of a Karina high lately.

#kpop smut #male reader #aespa smut #aespa winter smut #aespa karina smut #kpop fanfic #smut #winter #karina #aespa

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lovebugism · 1 year

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eddie x shy!reader , she asks him on a date by giving him tickets to a concert and he thinks its a joke til she walks away feeling rejected & he realizes she’s like dead serious & goes up to her

thanks for your request! i sorta broke my own heart with this one — the one where eddie rejects you and immediately regrets it (shy!reader, hurt/comfort, 2.6k)

bug's summer fic fest ♡

Robin tells you that he’s nice. She says he won’t turn you down because he loves Mötley Crüe too much and he’s called you pretty too many times. Robin Buckley is many things — a dork, a polyglot, and your best friend, to name a few — but she’s never been a liar.

She wouldn’t lead you to the slaughter that way. She wouldn’t just let you get your heart broken. More than anything, though, she knows Eddie far better than you do — partly because she’s actually able to talk to him.

So despite your lingering worry, you swallow her words like a shot of vodka and maneuver helplessly through the bustling crowd of the Hawkins High lunchroom.

Eddie Munson sits alone at the Hellfire Club table — the smallest one in the very back corner by the large square window.

Instead of eating a real meal (even though the hamburgers might be horse meat instead of cow), the boy eats crumbled-up pretzels from a worn ziplock bag. He pinches them into his mouth blindly because his chocolate syrup gaze is trained on the well-loved book folded in his left hand.

J.R.R Tolkien’s, The Hobbit.

It makes you smile softly to yourself. You hope one day you’ll have the courage to tell him you’ve read that book so many times you could recite it in your sleep. You hope that day comes soon.

“Eddie?” you call softly to him when you reach his table. Your sweaty fingers fidget with the concert tickets you clutch between them.

He just thinks he hears his name at first. It’s barely audible over the sounds of muddled chatter in the cafeteria. He glances up from his book, not expecting anyone to be there, and gaping when he finds you standing in front of him.

His cinnamon eyes go wide. The boy blinks owlishly at you once, then flits his eyes behind you like he’s expecting to see someone there. When he doesn’t, he blinks at you again.

“Hi…” you waver with a trembling smile.

Eddie grins back, still obviously confused. “…Hi?”

“I, uh… I don’t know if you heard, but— well, obviously you heard, that’s… that’s stupid,” you laugh at yourself, shaking your head with your eyes squeezed shut. You’re already stumbling all over yourself, and you haven’t even managed a full sentence yet.

“Mötley Crüe is coming to Indianapolis in a few days, and a friend of mine was selling tickets, so I bought them. For us. Potentially. You know, if you wanted to… to go… With me.”

Your offer lingers and hangs in the air between the two of you.

A smile quirks at the right side of Eddie’s pink mouth. It isn’t a kind one, though. It looks more cynical than anything else.

His head juts back. He’s almost peering at you from the corner of his eye as though you were some suspicious thing he needed to analyze. A laugh sputters from his lips. “Did Buckley put you up to this? Is that what this is?”

Your faltering smile fades entirely. Your features crumble in disappointment.

This worse he could say is no, Robin had told you.

You hadn’t prepared yourself for this.

“…What?” you wonder, voice fragile like a wilting flower petal.

Eddie chuckles to himself. He sets the book down to give you his full attention, though you’re not sure you want it anymore. “You know, I knew she was upset about me trying to set her up with Vickie and all, but this is a… whole new low.”

“Vickie…?” you murmur through a tightening throat, brows pinched in confusion. “I don’t understand—”

“Look, sweetheart… Tell Robin that this was a real funny joke, but I’m not interested, alright?”

Your chest aches with an empty feeling. You think your heart might be breaking. “J—Joke?”

“—Actually, tell her that this was very not metal of her, and that I will get my vengeance,” Eddie says with a sardonic laugh deeply rooted in his chest. His smile looks almost like he pities you as he shakes his head, eyes twinkling with pessimism. “I’m sorry she sent you to do her dirty work, but… You should probably go now. This is, you know, the Hellfire Club table and everything, so…”

You swallow thickly, then nod.

Eddie doesn’t want you here. Eddie doesn’t want you at all.

“I’m— I’m sorry if I…” The words get caught in your throat. You clear it and blink back burning tears. “I was just… I thought that maybe—”

“Eddie!” a boyish voice calls from across the cafeteria, only halfway drowned out through all the noise. A group of guys in Hellfire shirts walk towards the table.

You take that as your cue to leave. You don’t want to burst into tears in front of your crush and all of his friends.

“I’m sorry,” is all you manage to choke out before turning on your heel and walking away.

He’d been smiling up until that point — like it was all a big joke to him — because it was.

The girl he’s been fawning over since junior year comes out of nowhere with tickets to see one of his favorite bands? That was the kind of shit he dreamt about — the kind of plan only someone as vicious as Robin Buckley could concoct to hurt his feelings. And after spending so many years being the brunt of bullies, Eddie was tired of being embarrassed.

And at first, he thought you were just a really good actor. You did look almost genuinely confused when he’d snuffed out the plan so quickly. But those wide, glassy eyes you looked at him with — he doesn’t know if a person can fake that sort of heartbreak. That looked real.

Eddie had been close to commending himself for not letting Robin win. He thought he was a genius for not allowing Buckley to use you against him. Now he knows he’s the same dumbass he's always been.

“Hey, man…” Gareth wavers as he sits at his designated seat adjacent to Eddie’s. The boy’s forlorn and faraway gaze doesn’t go unnoticed by the rest of the club. They all share looks of confusion, but the sandy-haired boy is the only one brave enough to speak up. “You okay?”

Eddie keeps his gaze trained on your figure as you maneuver through the crowd. Robin looks happy for you when you reach her, but the puppy-like excitement washes away when she notices how sad you are.

He feels like someone’s shoved a knife between his ribcage. He wonders if this is what a broken heart feels like.

“I think I screwed up,” he answers, laughing cynically at himself. “Like, big time.”

“Well, it wouldn’t be the first time, right?” Dustin jokes before popping a fry into his mouth. He laughs, but no one else joins him. “…Right?”

Eddie glares at the boy.

He cowers. “…Kidding. I was kidding.”

—————

He stews over it all day — your offer and what he said to you and how sad you looked after he said it.

He pictures your pinched brows and big, glassy eyes and his chest starts to burn a little. Everyone always thought he was some raging asshole just because he had crazy hair and a crazier taste in music. Now he feels like they were sort of right about him.

Whatever chance he had with you has surely turned to dust by now. It wouldn’t surprise him after he shrugged you off like he did. But after waging a nearly four-hour war in his mind between lunch and dismissal, he knows he has to make sure.

He has to know if he’s ruined things entirely or if there’s a glimmer of hope he can hang onto.

He comes to you at the end of the day, dripping in metaphorical blood from the mental carnage he’d endured. He stood across the hall from you for five whole minutes as he tried to come up with something to say. He walks to your locker empty-handed and just blurts, “I thought you were joking,” like a total idiot.

Through the muddled conversation in the bustling hallway, you hadn’t heard him coming. You didn’t know he was there at all until he was right next to you. Seeing someone so suddenly close to you makes you flinch — hard.

And it’s not totally Eddie’s fault. You’re jumpy and too easily frightened at times, but he can’t help but feel like he’s messing things up more than he already has.

“Oh…” you deflate with a sigh, eyes still wide and swimming with something he can’t quite place. You look like you’re almost relieved to see him. Almost.

“Sorry— shit, sorry. I didn’t mean to…” The boy stumbles over his words, then trails off when they don’t come out the way he wants. He shakes his head and finds it in himself to smile. It’s bitter, though, filled with self-abhorrence. “I wasn’t trying to scare you.”

With one hand still clutching the door of your locker, and the other gripping a stack of textbooks, you peer at him through your lashes. “I know. It’s okay. I just— I wasn’t expecting it…”

He grimaces. “Sorry…”

“’S okay,” you repeat.

“I, um, I only came in so hot ‘cause I wanted to apologize— you know, for earlier. In the lunch room,” he stammers and puts his fidgeting hands in the pockets of his leather jacket. He tries to laugh, but it comes out more as an insincere puff of air. “Honestly, I thought you were joking.”

Your brows pinch. “Joking? Why would I—”

“I sorta locked Robin and Vickie in the old chemistry room in the east wing a few days ago,” he confesses, bouncing his shoulders. “Just because I know they both like each other and everything, and I thought maybe they’d finally admit it if they were alone together.”

“Okay…?”

“Well, they didn’t. And Robin was pissed. So I thought she was using you to get back at me.”

“Using me?” you echo.

“Yeah. ‘Cause I’ve kinda been into you since junior year and everything,” he admits with a nonchalant shrug. The corner of his rosy mouth quirks into a half-smile. “It’s, like, the one card Robin could use against me that would actually hurt, you know? If she did try to get me back.”

Your heart swells so much it hurts, almost — the same kind of hurt you'd felt in the lunch room earlier. It feels fiery, like someone’s taken a match to your ribcage and lit your heart aglow. But it’s different now. This is a good hurt, a happy hurt.

“Really?” you squint at him, your voice high and light. Your lips twitch like you want to smile, but you don’t let yourself — lest this all turns out to be some kind of elaborate dream. Or a joke.

“Since we had Mr. Kaminsky’s together, yeah,” Eddie affirms with a slow, confident nod. His chocolate eyes flit up to the water-stained ceiling. “Let’s see… We were learning about reproduction, and Tommy Hagan made some stupid joke about using you as a real-life model instead of the pictures in the textbook—”

“I remember,” you nod, trying not to shudder at the memory that still haunts you.

“And I told him that he was making it real obvious that he’s never seen an actual vagina before and that the one in the textbook looked a lot like his mom’s,” the boy recalls with a soft laugh. “And you looked over at me, and you smiled, and I… have been a goner ever since.”

He looks down at you again, all sheepish like he isn’t gluing your broken heart back together again. His chocolate eyes twinkle in a way you’ve never seen before. They sparkle in their softness. You have to look away before it turns you into a puddle at his feet.

You smile widely into your locker, pursing it off to the side in attempts to conceal its brightness.

“No one’s ever stuck up for me like that before,” you confess quietly after a few moments, peeking at him from the corner of your eye. “I’m pretty sure I gushed to Robin about it for days.”

“Yeah?” Eddie hums. He can feel his hopes getting too high.

“Yeah. I told her all about the pretty boy in the back of the room that finally got Tommy H. to leave me alone.”

“Oh… You think he’s pretty, huh?” the boy teases despite his pink cheeks.

You nod — made much braver by his previous admission — though you still have a little trouble looking him in the eye. You drag a notebook from your locker as you tell him, “I think he’s very pretty.”

“Well, I have it on good authority that the boy you think is pretty is super sorry for being such an asshole to you earlier,” Eddie murmurs, his nose scrunched and head tilted. “And that he’d really love to go to that concert with you— if you haven’t found some other schmuck to go with you, that is.”

Your eyes light up like a Christmas tree as you beam at him. No one’s ever looked at him that way before now.

“I’d like that,” you nod, then shrug. “I don’t think I’d wanna go with anyone else, anyway…”

“So, it’s a date?” Eddie asks, just to make sure. His raised brows disappear behind his fluffy bangs. His chin tilts to his chest as he smiles hopefully down at you.

You nod, and repeat it more softly than the loudmouth boy. “It’s a date.”

Eddie can feel himself grinning like an idiot. His cheeks ache with how wide he’s beaming at you, but he's too lovesick to stop. Like squinting into the sun, smiling every time he looks at you is muscle memory by now.

And what did a freak like him ever do to deserve a date with the freakin’ sun?

#published by bug #eddie munson x reader #stranger things x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #st drabbles #eddie spaghetti drabble #bug's summer fic fest!

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babyleostuff · 3 months

Text

perilla leaf/ shrimp debate | ot13

the perilla leaf debate: whether it is appropriate for one’s significant other to help peel the perilla leaf of a friend

𐙚🧸ྀི choi seungcheol

does absolutely not fuck with the idea. you’re not touching anyone’s food, he’s not touching anyone's food, and someone else is definitely not touching your food. he would genuinely give you a silent treatment if you helped your/ his friend with the perilla leaf or a shrimp because choi seungcheol is a possessive bitch, and he’s not afraid of letting everyone around him know about that (as if the hand on your thigh wasn’t enough). the only person that you can touch your food, and help you with it is him. end of story.

𐙚🧸ྀི yoon jeonghan

he wouldn’t mind you helping out your friend with peeling the perilla leaf or the shrimp, jeonghan is all for acts of service, and helping those who need it. even if the person would try to use the peeling as an excuse to flirt with you or get closer - still, no reaction from jeonghan. that’s just lame in his opinion, like seriously? a leaf? and i can imagine him scoffing loud enough for your friend to hear.

𐙚🧸ྀི joshua hong

does not pay attention to it, because if he was in your place he’d help his friend out as well. like, it’s so obvious to shua that neither a perilla leaf, nor a shrimp could question the quality of your relationship, and loyalty to each other, so why focus on something as silly as that? it actually causes the opposite effect for him - he finds it really endearing how you pay attention to the people around you, and how eager you are to help them.

𐙚🧸ྀི wen junhui

jun definitely wouldn’t say anything even if he was bothered by it, but i’m not really sure if he’d pay that much attention to it anyway. if you were around people you both knew very well, like the boys and their significant others, he wouldn’t mind it whatsoever. but if you were out with people he didn’t know that well he’d be more attentive then, but still - he wouldn’t make a scene out of it by any means. he’d maybe get a bit, i don’t know, sad? for a moment, but it would quickly go away. it’s just a leaf/ shrimp after all.

𐙚🧸ྀི kwon soonyoung

(he’d probably be the one in need of your super duper peeling skills) the only thing he’d be truly bothered by if you helped your friend would be that they stole your attention from him, and kwon soonyoung needs your attention. the peeling itself is not that big of a deal, though i think a small part of hoshi would be a bit jealous, maybe he’d give you a bit of an attitude because peeling a shrimp can’t be that hard, right? but it’s nothing too serious, soonyoung is usually dramatic like that so it’s nothing new for you.

𐙚🧸ྀི jeon wonwoo

okay so, here’s the thing. if you help someone or someone else helps you, and it’s purely platonic - wonwoo has no problem with it. you’re all friends, it’s all good. BUT, if he sees that the person you’re helping out is flirting with you, and is using the excuse of the perilla leaf or the shrimp - it’s a big no no. he wouldn’t say anything, he’d definitely stay silent, but his face would say it all. would eye the person from head to toe with his sharp eyes (bonus point if he takes off his glasses to be more dramatic). wonwoo is nice until someone tries to steal you from him.

𐙚🧸ྀི lee jihoon

jihoon does not give a fuck whether you help someone or if someone helps you. for one, it’s just basic manners to help someone if they’re struggling, and why would he get jealous over you peeling a shrimp of all things. he doesn’t really get the whole perilla leaf debate either, it’s just plainly stupid to make a discours over two leaves sticking together as if that could determine the loyalty of your partner.

𐙚🧸ྀི lee seokmin

seokmin’s first reaction would be to pout, because it looked kind of intimate how you helped your friend, and from anyone else’s perspective it looked like you and your friend were together, and not you and him (and as a romantic soul, he can’t help but be a bit sad because of that). but then a realisation would quickly dawn upon him - you were helping your friend because you cared about them, you were paying attention to them, and your first and only reaction was to immediately help them. so in the end dk kind of melts over you , and your attentiveness.

𐙚🧸ྀི kim mingyu

my man does not care, he’s there for the food. so what if you help someone, or someone helps you, you’re all friends, right? it’s kind of stupid to get jealous over a literal leaf or a shrimp, like - if you help someone out it means you’re polite, and that you pay attention to those around you, which mingyu finds so much more attractive than being territorial over your partner. as someone whose main love language are acts of service, mingyu is all for helping those around you.

𐙚🧸ྀི xu minghao

doesn’t care either. even if said friend would have troubles with peeling the perilla leaf, and would ask you for help just to flirt with you, hao would not care at all. he is too confident in your relationship, like the trust he has in you and your love is so hot. besides, using a literal leaf as an excuse to flirt is pathetic. either way - flirting or not, minghao would not pay any attention to you peeling the leaf or a shrimp.

𐙚🧸ྀི boo seungkwan

wouldn’t say anything out loud, but would definitely side eye the person that would ask you for your help with the shrimp. like, can’t you just peel it yourself? you really have to ask my partner to do it for you? but seungkwan wouldn’t make a scene out of it, it’s not that serious anyway, so why waste his energy on a shrimp. there’s a small chance boo would give you an attitude for a while, though, but that’s just because he wants your attention on him, not on someone that’s not able to peel a shrimp on their own.

𐙚🧸ྀི vernon chwe

vernon would not even notice you helping your friend with the leaf, because it’s literally your friend - he’d do the same if he saw someone struggling. we know he’s very laid back about this kind of stuff, it’s not like you’re going to fall in love with your friend just because of a leaf or a shrimp, so it’s not something he would pay much attention to.

𐙚🧸ྀི lee chan

would probably swat your hand away from peeling that shrimp, not because he’s jealous or bothered by it - but because he wants you to keep eating your own food. chan is a little love bug that thrives off helping those around him, so in general he would not mind you helping others, whether it’d be peeling perilla leaves, shrimps, and whatnot. but he would still gently take your hand away, and encourage you to eat, and he’d help the person in need himself.

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hunnyswift · 2 months

Text

fwb!rafe one-shot: the very first night

cw: afab!reader , substance use , profanity , smut ( making out , grinding , fingering , recording unprotected pinv , spanking , daddy kink , praise & slight degradation kink , creampie , kinda dom!rafe/sub!reader )

18+ minors DNI

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rafe is definitely the one to initiate anything and starts this whole thing you two have going on. you come over to his house one night ( not unusual , considering you’re close friends ) after you and some guy you were seeing broke up. really you just needed some time to calm down about the entire situation , so rafe offers to smoke you up to help you let loose.

at first , you’re just smoking together while you rant about how much of a douche this guy was to you all the time and how stupid you felt for even liking the kid to begin with. and rafe really , truly can’t understand how the hell any guy could fumble as bad as this. even though he was only ever your friend , rafe had thought about what it’d be like to have you several times — mostly late at night , sometimes when you were hanging out with him and the guys on the Druthers and your swimsuit was riding a little too high.

eventually , the conversation slowly gets more explicit , you recalling all of the times this guy couldn’t even make you cum and laughing about it with rafe. “what an idiot.” it’s the first thing rafe says that really catches your attention , questioning him for the meaning behind his small murmur. “i can’t imagine how pissed i would be if i had the chance to be with you and fucked it up by not being able to make you finish,” he says and just his tone gave off the impression that he wanted to prove it to you that he wouldn’t make the same mistake this other guy did.

and you’re high , your inhibitions are low , and rafe looks sooo good — so who’s to blame you when you meet him in the middle when he pulls you in for a kiss? he doesn’t hesitate to take over , yanking you into his lap without breaking the kiss ; he deepens it. your hands find purchase in his dirty blonde hair while his find your hips , squeezing tight , running up and down your sides just wanting to feel you.

rafe is kind enough to let you set the pace for a few minutes , letting you grind yourself down onto him which only makes you groan into his mouth. it’s when you pull back that rafe gets to start his work. kissing down your neck , biting and soothing the sting with his tongue , sucking bruises into your skin that you would surely bitch about tomorrow.

you lean back a little , rafe chasing you as you continue to grind against him. your short skirt had ridden up around your hips which only left your small panties in between you and the hard-on he’s sporting under his jeans. every once in awhile you glide against him just right , causing your mouth to drop and rafe’s hands to squeeze your ass a little tighter one of them coming down to spank you only spurring you on further.

“oh , you like that , huh?” so cocky with the way he speaks and laughs lowly in your ear. you can only manage a whimper in response , pulling him away from your neck and back to you to go in for another kiss , needing the relief of his lips against yours again. it was hard to remember the last time just making out felt so good.

one of rafe’s hands sneaks around to the front of you the other finding it’s place on your thigh , testing how far the night could really go , feeling the damp cloth between your legs and the way you melt into him at the delicate touch. he pulls your panties to the side gently before running his middle and ring finger through your slick folds , groaning at how wet you already were.

and he can’t help but think that this all didn’t take much , and he could’ve had made a move a long time ago.

he works you up a little more , rubbing at your clit and holding you to him before teasing your entrance with both fingers. you grab his wrist , impatiently helping him move a little quicker than he’d like. rafe’s taking his time in everything he’s doing , really trying to take it all in. the noises your making , the way you feel , everything.

rafe dips both fingers into you , pussy clenching around the intrusion and a moan ripping through your throat. he starts working his fingers in and out of you while his thumb is rubbing circles on your clit and you help him , grinding into his hand. you forget where you are and the fact that sarah’s upstairs in her room until rafe adds a third finger , causing you to fall into him and moan far louder than you had been.

“take me upstairs,” it’s not a request when you say it. and just like that , you’re empty again with rafe picking you up in his arms and heading straight to his room while you attack his neck with your lips grumbling about how someone’s excited. you let out a soft giggle , kissing him again.

when you get to the room , he tosses you down onto the bed before yanking your hips to the edge by your thighs. you sit up on your elbows , taking in how good rafe looks like this ; swollen lips , messy hair , damp spot formed on his pants thanks to you. you can’t recall a time you didn’t think rafe was attractive. he was objectively a good looking guy. but something about him being so wound up for you made him look even better.

“whatcha looking at me like that for?” rafe asks , head tilting to the side a little bit , cheeky smile gracing his face.

you sit up , pulling your top off and throwing it to the side not caring where it landed. “i’m waiting for you to prove that you’re a little bit better than the rest of the guys on the island , rafe,” you admitted , leaning back on your arms waiting for him to make a move again as he eyes your now free breasts.

“i’m not a little better.”

“no?”

“i’m way better,” he corrects you before kneeling down on the floor and pulling you to him , hot breath hitting your core before he dives in.

it took you off guard , how quickly went to eating you like a starved man , but god , did it feel good.

your hand flies to the back of his head to hold him closer to you. his nose nudges your clit over and over as his tongue dips into you. “taste so good for me , baby.”

baby.

he’d never called you that before. it was always variations of your name , your last name , or simply y/n. never baby.

you let yourself fall back into his bed all the way , head flying back , mouth letting moans fly freely as he added his fingers back into your pussy. the noise was visceral and the only thing you could hear besides rafe’s low groaning into your core and your own breathy moans.

“fuck — don’t stop. gonna cum,” you announced , hips trying to chase the feeling of diving off the edge , but rafe’s free hand pushes you back down , holding you in place to his liking.

you’re so fucking close , and rafe can feeling your cunt tightening over and over again around his fingers. he pulls his mouth away from you , kissing your inner thighs and his fingers pound into you harder. “need you to cum for me , baby. cum on my fingers,” he breathes out.

and with a curl of his fingers that right band within you snapped. rafe’s hand didn’t stop when you fell , helping you through your orgasm and working you up again for another. “good girl , that’s it. did so good for me,” he smiles at you , rising from the floor and unbuckling his belt.

your lips are still tingly and you can’t hear fully quite yet , but you can feel rafe’s body hovering over you , his hands running up and down your thighs in an attempt to soothe you a little. “y’alright?” he worries slightly , tapping your cheek to get you to open your eyes.

you let out a soft hum , your eyes glossed over and trailing down rafe’s body. you sit up again , reaching out for him and tugging at the hem of his shirt. “want this off.”

rafe doesn’t waste any time , ripping his shirt off and taking his pants the rest of the way off , leaving him in just his boxers to match you in your panties. “want to see how much better i can get too?”

so fucking cocky. but nonetheless you nod with a smile , already feeling ready to go again. “give it to me , cameron.”

green light.

rafe grabs you and flips you to your stomach , pulling and maneuvering you the way he sees fit before rubbing his cock up and down your folds. for the first time ever , he hadn’t cared too much about his own relief.

usually , when he was hooking up with someone , it started with him receiving the sloppiest head he could get and following it up with fucking the poor girl into his mattress to finish himself off while getting her to where he needs. but this time , he couldn’t tear his focus away from making you feel good to the best of his abilities.

you can feel rafe pause , still rubbing himself through your arousal. and as greedy as it may seem , you needed him in you now. “condom?” he simply asks. your throat is still dry , so you swallow the lump in your throat rock your hips back , the tip of him catching and sliding all the way into you.

this. this is what heaven felt like.

the two of you groan in sync , rafe’s head tilting back as his grip on your hips tightened , definitely leaving bruises in their wake. “fuck you feel good.”

good doesn’t begin to describe it. you feel so full , so warm. you continue rocking your hips , fucking yourself onto rafe’s cock in an effort to let him take a break after the orgasm he ripped out of you moments before. it’s what he deserved. “yeah? you like this dick , baby?” he grunts , slapping your ass and gripping you to move you on and off of him after you let a whine pass by your lips.

“fucking love it!” you reply , head hitting the sheets as you kept working yourself on him.

with a certain roll of your hips , rafe nearly cums right then. “that’s it,” he grumbles , shifting his weigh and shoving you further into the mattress before slamming into you. he keeps going with his hard thrusts , his pace picking up. “taking it so fucking good for me. bet that idiot you’ve been giving this to would die if he saw you like this.” rafe chuckled lowly , just imagining how good it would feel to see the look on that guys face.

your head raises a little bit , looking over your shoulder and catching rafe’s eye. “why don’t you take a video? show him how much better you are to me than him? if you want,” you suggest , big , glossy eyes staring into his soul. could you be more perfect?

rafe’s hood stutter before coming to a stop. he pulls out quickly , reach over to his nightstand for his phone and opening the camera and starting a video. “c’mere , baby. fuck yourself on my dick for the camera. show everyone who’s treatin’ you so good,” he coaxes you back onto him.

you do as you’re told , sliding back until rafe’s hips start doing the work for you again. his hand comes down on your ass , spanking you a few times in a row only causing you to sink into the bed more. “you feel so good , daddy!”

god , he knows that the two of you have talked about your kinks before. it was just something that came up one night while you were hanging out with your friends , but he didn’t expect you to pull that one out. “yeah? your daddy taking care of you. showing you how it should be?” he fucks into you harder , pulling all the way out before slamming back in. “fuck , i’m gonna cum , baby.”

it’s like he read your mind when he reached around you and starting flicking at your clit again. “cum in me , daddy. shit , fuck! don’t stop , please don’t stop!” you’re babbling at this point , just wanting rafe to keep going , to get you there one last time.

“make your daddy cum , baby. being such a good little slut,” rafe groans , resting back on his calves to let you work for it just a little bit , his hand staying perched on your lower back to help you keep your pace.

you listen to him , throwing your ass back to help him finish just like he had for you earlier. “wanna make you come,” you whine , reaching your hand between your body and the sheets to rubbing your clit , needing just a little bit more. rafe catches this and slaps your hand away , rubbing furiously until he feels you flutter around his length over and over and over until you let out a wail. your legs are shaking as you collapse into the bed , no longer being able to hold yourself up anymore.

rafe drops the phone to the bed , gripping both of your hips and thrusting into you hardest he has yet. he covers your body with his , as his thrusts become sloppier and lips attaching to your neck , mumbling how close he is and how good you are. your cunt spasms around him again , tears flooding your eyes in pleasure. your mind goes fuzzy. you can’t even tell when he stops fucking into you , his body deflating and his weight coming down on you.

“you still with me , baby?” rafe questions , pushing himself off of you and grabbing the camera again. he pulls out , focusing the camera on his cum spilling out of you in a mixture with your own. he slaps your ass and jiggling the fat under his hand before spreading your cheeks to get an even better view of the aftermath. “you did so good for me.”

rafe stops the recording , tossing his phone to the side again before standing up and going to his en suite bathroom. meanwhile , you come back to feeling your legs and roll yourself over to catch your breath. “jesus christ , rafe!” you call out , just loud enough for him to hear you from the bathroom.

he comes back into the room with a damp towel , reaching to clean you up gently. “you staying the night?” he asks softly , looking at your face to meet your eyes.

he sees you ponder it , really think about such a silly , simple question. “yeah , i think i’ll stay,” you smile softly. really , it was because you didn’t think you could sit up let alone get back to your house across the street.

rafe pulls a pair of shorts on swiftly before hopping into the bed next to you and grabbing his phone. “here , send that shit to what’s his face.” he hands his phone over to you , and you can’t help but laugh a little as you type in your ex’s number and press send. you toss rafe his phone back into his lap and let your head hit the pillows again. “straight to the spank bank,” rafe partially joked , putting the video into his hidden folder.

“you’re such a pig , cameron.”

◞ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ྀི◟

woooo , this was so much longer than i intended it to be. it is my first post & first time writing smut so be gentle with me

#rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron #rafe cameron smut #outer banks #fwb!rafe #rafe cameron one shot

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slasherscream · 4 months

Note

the absolute INSANITY of the pushing your s/o away thing with the crazy ass boy gang… it’s like triggering a dog’s prey drive but for serial killers w abandonment issues

CRAZY ASS BOYS GANG + PUSHING THEIR HAND AWAY/REJECTING AFFECTION

❥ who gets pissed the fuck off ❥

Billy Loomis - Is irritated off rip. Billy plays it cool but he needs physical affection from you. He’s casual about it so he flies under the radar, but this is a stage five clinger. He’s always doing something small. Touching your fingers. A hand on your back. Neck. Sitting behind you instead of putting you directly in his lap. It’s little stuff. Hovering. Smack his hand away one of these times and his jaw clenches right away. “What the hell is your problem?” Please snuggle up to him and don’t start world war 3. It’s not worth the joke.

Kevin Khatchadourian - Quick question, why do this to yourself? Kevin does not need, nor does he particularly enjoy, physical contact. Period. He is gracious enough to give you physical contact because he knows you’re built different (pathetic). For you to then turn around and spit in the face of him being kind enough to meet your needs? …. Quite crazy of you. The look he gives you is pure confusion because he’s honest to God baffled. What do you want to accomplish here? Go ahead and start begging now, because he’s not touching you for a long while.

Sparrow!Ben Hargreeves - Swings wildly between damn near dodging any physical affection you attempt to give him to hanging off you like a squid on a ship. No in-between. For you to have the audacity to reject him when he’s feeling clingy? How dare you. He doesn’t have to beg anyone for attention! Did you forget who you’re dating? Doesn’t even care if you did it with obvious playfulness. He’s sensitive. He’s tender. He’s a bitch. He goes to get up and leave entirely and you have to grab him and beg him to cuddle so this doesn’t become a week long cold war. Happy ego stroking!

Stu Macher - What you’re not about to do is ruin his mood. Baby, he’s about to ruin yours. How about that? If you push his hands off you once he enjoys a little playful bitchiness. Playing hard to get. He likes to chase, it’s cool. Twice? Okay…. We’re irritating him. Three times? He’s gonna grab your hand, stop smiling, and stare at you. When he places his hand back where it belongs, on your thigh, don’t act up again. He could make your whole week go to shit. Don’t start wars you won’t win. He’s the king of playing stupid games and winning stupid prizes.

Nathan Prescott - Has to bluster and get visibly pissed off because he is rejection sensitive to a degree that is astounding, frankly. Let you see him upset after he tried to be affectionate and you said no? Hah! Not fucking likely. Being physically affectionate in the first place doesn’t come easy to him. Quality time is more his speed. Even worse if it wasn’t a sexual advance he was making. He tried to wrap an arm around you and you shrug him off? You’ll be lucky to get a hello out of him for the next week. Good luck soldier.

David Mccall - Outwardly, he pretends to be despondent and sheepish when you bat his hand away. He’s using sadness as a shield. If he’s sad then you might feel bad and give in. He’ll use any tool in his arsenal to get his way. One of his greatest skills is speaking in a soft voice, just shy of how you’d speak to a toddler, and telling you: “I didn’t mean to upset you, sweetheart. I’m sorry.” This is all to hide the fact that you rejecting him in any way, shape, or form makes him so angry he can barely think. You might be able to catch the rage hidden behind the veil. If you’re quick enough. David puts on a convincing show, but his gentle smile is twitching at the edges.

❥ who gets sad and mopey ❥

Jordan Li - Oh you pushed them away? No, that’s cool, it’s totally fine. You can want space. Everyone’s entitled to their own space bubble. Of course. Are you having a bad day? Are you mad at them? Did they do something wrong? Did they piss you off? These are the types of questions Jordan is going to “casually” ask for the next ten minutes while they sit really close to you. They’re not touching you! They always sit with their legs spread so wide. Their arm isn’t around you, it’s on the back of the couch. You’re nitpicking here, babe. They’re staring at you with their big brown eyes. No, they didn’t get any closer while you weren’t looking.

Josh Washington - Why would you do this to him? Don’t push his hand off you unless you mean it or you’re being obviously playful about it. If you pretend to be mad at him while you do it, no matter how unconvincing of an actor you are, he will believe you. Sensitive king. He also won’t go to touch you again until you initiate the contact. Physical touch is reassuring and comforting to him but even he (category five clinger) gets touch aversion at times. As observant as he is, he knows some people are uncomfortable asserting their boundaries, so they’ll try to soften the blow of saying no by being “playful”. He cannot take the risk! You could mean it but don’t want to hurt his feelings. Josh interprets many playful no’s as real ones. Better safe than sorry.

❥ secret third worse thing ❥

Sebastian Valmont - Doesn’t take it for anything more than what it is. If you’re being playful he recognizes it. If you’re seriously not wanting to be touched at any given moment he understands that as well. However, in the case of being playful, you’ve started a war you can’t win. Because, as much as Sebastian enjoys chasing you… Sebastian also likes to be chased. Ten minutes from now you’ll go to give Sebastian’s cheek a kiss and he’s going to dodge you. Hard. To such an extent it’s bordering on insult. He’ll be wearing a cat that got the canary grin all the while.

Jason Dean/JD - Doesn’t take you seriously even if you are dead serious. I’m sorry, you’ve discovered his worst character trait by far. Most boundaries are a joke to him. He always wants to touch you. He loves you! He craves you like a drug. You should feel the same for him, in equal measure and desperation. So why wouldn’t you want him touching you? Holding you close. He’s so gentle with you (usually). His arms should feel like home. No matter how long a day you’ve had. No matter how overwhelmed you might be with sound, sight, touch. In JD’s eyes you’re one soul in two bodies. He always wants you near. He knows you want the same. You’re just a little dramatic sometimes.

#crazy ass boys gang #this was SOOOOO fucking fun to write nonny #i remembered how scary some of these fucking attack dogs are midway through writing #billy loomis x reader #stu macher x reader #jordan li x reader #josh washington x reader #kevin khatchadourian x reader #black!reader #jd x reader #sebastian valmont x reader #nathan prescott x reader #david mccall x reader #ben hargreeves x reader #umbrella academy imagine #jordan li imagine #gender neutral reader

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leqonsluv3r · 6 months

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valentine’s day

—leon finally starts to heal after he meets you in a grocery store, a blurb

masterlist taglist

an: i’ve had this idea in my head since i went to the LANY concert a month ago and heard this song live. i have not been the same person since, this drabble/blurb is dedicated to this song and leon. it’s a lot longer then i intended and i apologize lol

leon wasn’t one to heal easy.

not from his past, not from the missions when he saw more gore and blood then he wanted to. not when he had gagged every time he saw blood from that point foreword.

he was still healing when he walked into a grocery store about four months after his last mission. he was still healing when he grabbed one of those stupid baskets to carry your groceries in through the store.

he grabbed a couple bottles of alcohol, some snacks and some soap. essentials, things he needs. because sleeping without alcohol now is…it’s a lot harder then it used to be. just nightmares and images of bloodshed — he just says fuck it. he gets what he needs, what he wants and he goes up to the front of the store to pay.

what he doesn’t understand, when he sees you for the first time, is why your working in a grocery store of all places. your too beautiful for that, you should be doing something better, something worthy of your time. he doesn’t know a single thing about you yet and he’s willing to draw that conclusion.

you smile kindly at people from behind your register, your voice is kind and sweet. it draws something within him like a magnet, his heart is pounding, he’s going to explode or something. he used to be so good at talking to women but it’s declined as the years have gone by. he’s gotten tired, he just didn’t care like he used to.

he awkwardly sits his basket down on the conveyor belt of the register, you catch his eye and smile a little and it fucking does something to him. he knows he’s screwed beyond relief at that point. he smiles back, or tries to. he’s out of practice on that to, can’t remember the last time he’s smiled.

“this all for you?” you say softly, your eyes scanning over the bottles of alcohol, the snacks and the bottle of soap. he nods and chuckles a little, low and deep, just like his voice. “yeah, that’s all…” he grabs his wallet out of his back pocket of his jeans.

he wish he could say something better, something more positive and just something to grab your attention. he searches his brain as you tell him the total and he hands you the card. but he doesn’t have to say anything, you speak first.

“leon? that’s…you have a nice name.” you say and it snaps him out of his brain, he blinks those devastating blue eyes. ones that were once full of life, he nods. “my mom gave it to me.” he jokes lamely, or at least he thinks it’s lame until he hears your small little giggle.

he feels his heart beat with more confidence and energy now, like his one effort at making you smile is good enough. making you laugh is worth enough. you hand him his card back and put the receipt in the shopping bag, telling him to have a great day. not a nice day like you did with the others, but a great day. like you could tell he needed to hear that.

he walks out of the grocery store with the biggest, stupidest smile on his face. one that he has been a stranger to for months. he has you to thank for that.

the weeks that followed he came back to the grocery store, once maybe sometimes three times a week if he wasn’t sent off on a mission. he almost can’t help himself, he likes talking to you when your there.

you make him feel something he hadn’t felt in such a long time. it’s almost ridiculous, but he can’t help himself, it’s like an addiction. but it doesn’t involve him waking up with a hangover.

he keeps coming, week after week and buying things from the grocery store just to talk to you, just to see your sweet face. just to give him some kind of ray of sunshine that casts his whole body in a warm glow. making his heart beat faster.

but today was different, he was going to ask you out today. he was going to do it, he couldn’t be scared anymore. he couldn’t let you pass by anymore like something rare and just ignore you.

you were something to him. even if you didn’t even know that yet.

he walked up, carrying the same five things he always grabbed. his heart was pounding wildly, he was so out of practice but he just had to get out there and do it. just give himself something, he would hope you would say yes.

he put the items on the conveyor belt and waited until it was his turn, you finished checking out the customer in front of him and then turned to look at him. “hi stranger, haven’t seen you in awhile.” you say with a small frown, it’s adorable, it makes his heart melt.

he chuckles and shakes his head, “didn’t know you missed me.” he muses as he watches you start scanning his stuff. slowly and methodically almost as if you wanted this interaction to last longer too.

you sigh and shake your head, “of course i did, your my favorite customer.” you say with a small smile, and if he wasn’t looking so intently at you, he wouldn’t have noticed the subtle blush on your cheeks.

“i better be. goodness knows i give you guys enough business.” he chuckles playfully and flashes you a grin, almost as bright as the sun. he didn’t know where he was willing this confidence from, maybe it’s because he needed you. he needed you to at least attempt to be with him. you were the first light he has had in his life in a long time.

you scan his last item and he realizes it’s now or never, “26.73” you say as you lay out your hand for the card so he can pay. he reaches into his wallet and gives it to you, your fingers brush against each other. he wills himself to do it, to just do it now.

“uhm, i actually…i have a question for you.” he says with a small tremble of his hands, keeping his eyes on you to gauge your reaction behind the register. you look back up at him, swiping his card. “yeah?” you say and he could swear there’s almost hopefulness in your voice.

he swallows all the nerves down and attempts to keep himself calm enough to get this out, he can’t screw this up. he cannot screw you up, he would never forgive himself if he did.

“do you want to go out with me? like on a date?” he says and it’s so weird, the words feel foreign as they slipped from his mouth. usually women used to flock to him, but they didn’t anymore. his confidence with women had slipped right along with him trying to be sober all the time.

you blinked at him, holding onto his card in your small but intricate fingers. you seem to be thinking it over, weighing your options. he feels like the rejection is going to slip out of your lips at any given moment and he’s preparing himself for it.

then eventually, you respond, “i’d love to.”

now, it’s his turn to gawk and blink at you, almost perplexed that you are actually saying yes, accepting him and accepting this date. he can’t help the smile on his face, it’s almost stupid. you hand him the card and his brain goes on autopilot. you hand him the bag of his stuff, he grabs it and goes to walk away.

until, “wait! you forgot your receipt!” you yell behind him, holding up a slip of paper and waving it. he turns around and walks back to the register, his brows furrowed. you never gave him a receipt, he grabs the slip of paper from your fingers. he reads it over with confusion until he sees your number at the bottom, your hand writing and scribbles drawn with a little heart next to it.

he smiles, another genuine one that only you could conjure onto his face. “text me, we can set up a date.” you say to him, nodding towards the receipt. you look just as giddy as he feels inside. he nods, “absolutely. will do.”

he texts you the minute he gets home. and you respond. the texts keep going between you two until you both eventually settle on a date to go out. your both feeling like love-struck teenagers, so entranced with each other it’s almost borderline disgusting.

the week after you set the date passes and neither of you can hardly wait. you both have your reasons for being nervous, you both have that joy when you see each other but it shines in a different way. especially when he picks you up for your guy’s date.

you look stunning. stunning doesn’t even begin to cover it for him. you look like if heaven was a person, like an angel. that’s good enough reason for him to not let his blue eyes break from you all night.

and they don’t, they don’t ever break. not one second, he keeps his gaze on you at dinner, when your both talking and flirting aimlessly with each other. to leon, it feels good to have that someone; even if they don’t know it yet. that lights up their world and just makes it so much better.

he doesn’t break his gaze when you two walk by the lake, showing him all the birds and where they nest when winter comes closer. he admires the way you talk about small things, things that other people wouldn’t normally talk about or care about for that matter. but you took time, every week, to come feed the ducks and birds at this lake.

and he doesn’t break his gaze when he walks you back to your place, low intimate whispers that turn into slow kisses and touches. it doesn’t turn frantic, it just stays slow and gentle. it’s loving and it almost wants to make leon cry, because you care so much, this kiss just proves it.

because for the first time in a long time, you make him feel cared for. you make him feel wanted and it’s so much to him that he doesn’t know what to do with himself.

he wants you forever, he wants you as long as you let him have you. and he’s always going to take care of you, just like you’ve unknowingly taken care of him. taken the sadness away from him by just being in his life.

three months later, you and leon were dating.

you guys were the happiest people, it seemed you brought leon back from the edge. he opened up and you learned all you could about him. he got to learn more about you. and you both loved the idea of having that one confidant in each other.

the one you would have when you were sad, scared, angry, frustrated, etc. everything made sense with the two of you together. and you guys found that one piece that was missing within each of you. you guys were happy, leon was smiling a lot more then he usually did.

he didn’t drink his days away anymore, he didn’t come back from missions to an empty apartment and he didn’t have nightmares. it was still there but you dulled the ache, you filled that dark hole inside of him that had been gone for so long.

you made him happier, you made him recognize the man in the mirror again with your love. your love and everything about you made him better. he was better for you.

you had each other to soothe the gaps and ridges of your guys souls that were jagged. you had that thing that he was searching for, that he’d been missing for so long.

he loved you.

and nothing was ever going to change that.

an: i love you guys sm :,) thank you guys for reading my stuff and engaging. i was so worried when i started writing on tumblr that it wasn’t going to take. that no one would like my writing and i was wrong. you guys have given me so much support in liking my fics. it makes me so happy to have that support. it keeps me going. i love you all, i’ll be posting a one shot soon, keep up on my requests. pls reblog if you enjoyed, you guys know the drill. kisses, xx.

taglist: @elihii @heartsforvin @argreion @sqiim (to join the taglist DM me or interact with my link at the beginning)

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jamietwat · 6 months

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Roy and Jamie getting engaged and Roy assuming that they’ll both just keep their last names because of course they will, they’re very well established as Roy Kent and Jamie Tartt and they already have the Roy Kent chant and the Jamie Tartt baby shark remix so why the fuck would they fuck with that? Plus, he’s sure as hell not changing his name and he’s sure Jamie’s far too full of himself to even consider changing his own and that if anything, he’s going to try to talk Roy into changing his just to annoy him

But then Jamie starts talking about how they shouldn’t say anything publicly about it because people are dumb enough to not have caught on to them being a thing yet (but the people in their lives all know and still would know about the engagement too) and think how funny it’ll be if they don’t say anything and then the first game after the wedding, he just shows up in his new kit with his same number and Kent across the back and let the general public figure it out

And Roy’s like you’re planning on changing your name 🤨 because he still doesn’t really believe Jamie’s even considering it and he just assumes it’s all talk until Jamie’s like yeah, duh, am I not supposed to??? And Roy hadn’t considered it all before that moment but now Jamie’s talking about playing with Roy’s name on his back and Roy kind of thinks it’s stupid career wise for Jamie to change his name but he’s also suddenly very aware that he likes that idea so he’s like no, I just didn’t think you’d want to… or that you’d make a decision like that just so you could have a laugh and make a whole scene of it (even though, to be perfectly honest, that second part doesn’t feel that surprising at all when he thinks about it for a second)

And Jamie’s like I’d rather have your name on my back than my dad’s because Georgie either took Simon’s last name or went back to her maiden name and Jamie already has more than enough names in common with his dad and would LOVE to not be playing with his dad’s name on his back to be a constant connection and to make it easier for his dad to take credit for his success and use Jamie’s achievements for his own benefit

Roy has an internal oh moment at that and it feels like it’s going to be a serious talk kind of moment until Jamie grins and leans into Roy’s personal space and nudges him as he adds that and you know that I can’t pass up an opportunity to start a little drama and get all the attention on me and then Roy’s laughing and the serious moment is over, but that’s more than decided it for Roy

So of course they go with the hard launch by having Jamie play in his new kit as soon as they’re married because it’s funny and it both works out fantastically for Roy being uncomfortable with the public all up in his personal life for the lead up to the wedding and with Jamie loving the attention on him and attracting more to him than Roy with the dramatic reveal

#I might make a fic out of this eventually at some point but we’ll see #RoyJamie #Roy Kent #Jamie Tartt #Ted Lasso #Mine #Roy Kent x Jamie Tartt

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ivymarquis · 3 months

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Say You Won't Let Go

Last House on the Right

Pairing| John Price x F!Single Mom!Reader Rating| E Word Count| 1.1k Kinks/Content/Warnings| Post Apocalypse!AU, Single Mom!verse, pregnant reader, mentions of pregnancy related eating issues + vomiting, Reader's got some separation issues. Fair warning this is so half baked I haven't even decided what kind of apocalypse it is, but somehow Ive got a whole plotline regardless.Same pairing as my fic Blind Date

Next Chapter

You can’t believe your luck.

You’re not sure what exactly it was about this house in the dead of night that had you so transfixed, but your intuition has paid off in spades.

The area’s been abandoned, to your knowledge leaving you the sole inhabitant meandering around.

Or maybe waddling would be a more apt description.

Fear and uncertainty of the outside hurry you along into the house. Most everyone- the survivors- has splintered off into groups. There’s no evidence of anyone still living here (admittedly it’s not like you’ve taken the time to check every room, but there are signs when a house is inhabited), but you luck out that the cabinets haven’t been picked over.

It’s been entirely too long since your last meal, and it takes a good amount of restraint to not devour the can of ravioli too quickly.

As much as you’re tempted, you know there’s a fine line between what will and won’t have you immediately throwing up in the sink- grazing seems to keep the worst of the upset down.

There’s no hospitals to jaunt off to if you end up dehydrated. Excessive vomiting is not ideal post end of days.

If you were in your right mind- not frightened, isolated, starving, cold- and not focusing on how the unheated chef boyardee might as well be a five star michelin meal for all you can think right now, you might have been paying more attention.

The sound of a safety clicking off behind you freezes your blood far more than the cold. That sound is deliberate. Whoever’s behind you- gun pointed at you- wants you to know they got the jump on you.

“Hands where I can see them,” the order is gruffly barked at you.

You feel stupid. Of course all of this was too convenient for you to simply be catching a break. It wasn’t exactly well lit and designed to draw you in- but you’re an animal caught in a trap regardless.

The fork clatters against the counter next to the can as you go to comply.

“Turn around. Slowly.”

You’re not much of a threat in your current condition. That much is obvious.

Time stopped having any sort of tangible meaning a while ago. You should know how many weeks you are, but the days run together fending for yourself and you just know that you’re close. There’s no hiding the swell of your belly.

The man at the doorway looks as gruff as he sounds. Your mind spins like a tire in mud to process everything in front of you in the poor moonlight. Military, that much is obvious. You’re not actually sure if that’s a good thing. Handsome from what you can see, though historically your type has been men who don’t have a weapon leveled at you.

The taciturn expression on his face falters when he spots your bump, but you’ve learned by now to not expect any sort of special treatment.

“I’m sorry,” you apologize immediately. “I-I didn’t know anyone was here. I’ll leave, I swear.”

He looks at you another moment before a look of resignation washes over him.

“Turn back around. Keep your hands up.” Oh God. Your mind immediately goes to the worst- That this man, for whatever reason, has decided that your infraction has signed your death warrant. That he can’t quite bring himself to fire on a pregnant woman staring him in the eyes, so the last thing you’re ever going to see is some tacky wallpaper and ugly cabinets.

You yelp when one of his hands finds the pistol on your hip. Holy shit you didn’t even hear him cross the room.

“Easy, love,” he soothes as he starts to frisk you for more weapons. “Not gonna hurt you. You have anything else on you?”

“A knife in my back pocket.” It doesn’t even occur to you to lie; putting yourself in his good graces is your only option and you can’t do that by lying.

His hands slip under your jacket, the hem oversized and hanging even with your arms up, making a wrong guess at the first pocket he checks before grabbing the knife out of the second one.

“Anyone going to come sniffing around looking for you?” A fair question, but one that sticks like a knife between your ribs.

The “No,” that escapes you is softer than you meant it to be, voice warbling as you try not to cry.

Hormones would have had you on the verge of tears at any given point, and that would have been before the end of the world and before your group abandoned you. You’re well entitled to your tears, you think, but try to stuff them back down anyway.

“You’re out here alone,” he grouses, sounding like he doesn’t believe you. The like this? is implied.

Your arms are still up, and they’re getting tired. Everything tires you out these days.

Like he can read your mind, he releases you with a “you can set your arms down now, love.”

“Thank you,” you’re in full fawn mode, turning to face him. While he’s clearly decided against killing you, you’ve been scared and alone for the past few days and you really don’t want to be separated from the only person who will give you the time of day right now.

“Is there anyone else here? Other soldiers?” Your fate is sealed and lies in the soldier’s hands regardless of his answer.

Nothing with change, no matter what he says, but you think you’re less intimidated if it’s just the two of you.

The world’s gone to hell in a handbasket, and yet you’ll never forget watching 28 days later when the line I promised them women was dropped.

“Got separated from my team.”

He turns away from you, gesturing to follow him out of the kitchen and towards the living room.

He’s limping.

You haven’t seen him move until now. You’re more an expert on busted hardware than busted body parts, you can’t tell if it’s a fresh injury that’s still healing, or an old one that’s set in place.

“They left you.” They left me, too.

“They didn’t leave me for dead, they think I am dead. Gonna take a bit more than that to get the job done, though.”

You have no reason not to believe him. Despite having just met him, the man is like a living manifestation of everything masculinity is supposed to be- down to the surly attitude despite him herding you further into the house. It doesn’t take much to figure out that he’s tough as nails and sure why not flirt in death’s face that her last attempt wasn’t good enough?

You sit on the couch he points to, as he settles into the leather chair across from you.

“Christ what’d I’d do for a fucking smoke right now,” he mumbles, pawing at his chest absent mindedly on reflex.

You mean to sit stiff as a board, but your body is tired and the couch is surprisingly comfortable.

The soldier, however, sits like he owns the house. “And now for the question of what to do with you.”

#john price x reader #price x you #captain john price #apocalypse #pregnant reader #x single mom reader #my writing

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viviaj · 8 months

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a man who just wants you and needs you and would do anything for you (gone sexual)

// this is a self-insert.. it can be abt anyone u want ;3 !! but if u need some help: atsumu, kaeya, zoro, wriothesely, shoyo.. literally anyone that’s funny but also ;) KUROO

he’s been making you laugh all night. lighthearted conversation not slowing down, and countless attempts at getting you to roll your eyes at him. he looks good, too, like, casual good. black sweats and freshly washed hair.

he’s sitting on your bed, feet flat on the floor looking up at you as you go about your business. he’s a strange guy, he says something unfunny, yet its hard to not laugh. its cringey and genuinely stupid, yet comforting all the same.

you’ve been parading some new clothes on for yourself, styling pieces for him to nod and approve at. the way you move around is everything to him. he could just watch you, permanently. he wouldn’t need his phone, or a book or a computer. just you.

and that has him hard in his pants. just watching you do your thing, your glow from previously being out, with friends and at the shops— it didn’t matter.

“hey,”

“yeah?” you cheerily turn toward him, eager to keep conversation alive.

“come here,” his smile has you complicit, walking over to him, “wanna sit?”

you look down.

eyes fluttering between how hard he is and his eyes— at how fast this all changed. he’s so pretty and you just want to nod and nod and nod to him, that you’d do anything with him.

“yes, i do. yeah, okay. i don’t wanna hurt you, though, so—”

“here,” he interrupts you, guiding your hips down, “yeah, just like that,” the genuine smile on his face gives you courage.

neither of you dare to move once you’re fully sat, no one shifting or grinding, just resting on each other.

“do you feel what you do to me?” he almost laughs in exasperation. everything he says is so genuine, “i’m hard just thinking about you.” the honesty hurts.

the man underneath you is everything. he’s so sincere now that he’s not trying to make you laugh, not trying to make you roll your eyes at the stupid things he says. he doesn’t have to work for your attention.

“can i move?” you whisper, his cock so painfully there. your eyes don’t move from his.

“yeah, just— shit,” he hisses, “fuck. slowly. just rock back and forth a little.”

and it’s so easy. it’s so easy and he’s looking right at you and he’s telling you how good it feels, and god, don’t you know how long he’s wanted this for?

“is this okay? i mean, does it feel good? am i doing—”

“perfect,” he reaches a hand up to the back of your head, “it’s perfect.” his large hand pulls your head down to his, face to face with what you’re doing, who you’re doing.

he looks down at your lips, breaking the unbreakable eye contact you’d had so far, and presses his lips against yours. your hips stutter here and there, unused to the motion, but desperate to keep it there.

“let me take care of you.”

you nod.

his hands are polite on your hips, firm in how he handles you. he slides himself to the head of the bed, patting right between his open legs.

“saved you a spot,” he grins. and you remember this is the same man from an hour ago. you roll your eyes, yet sit right there, your back pressed to his chest, “this okay?” he says with his hands so close to your waistband. you nod again.

“you’re very compliant with me.” he says, and there’s nothing— no words, that could justify that. because he’s right, “i almost expected you to laugh at me more.” his slender fingers dip beneath your clothes, and he’s kind of an asshole, but he’s touching you so nicely.

“oh,” you grab onto his wrist, “feels good,” he nods against your skin.

his other hand just wants to feel you. the outside of your neck, the crease in your elbow. the curve of your ear, the shape of your breasts.

it’s obsessive.

your head drops onto his shoulder, your eyes turning to meet his and you realise he’s been looking at you this whole time. you avert your eyes, a slight red brushing your cheeks.

he’s still looking at you with a slight smile on his face. “you shy?”

“a little,” you reply for integrity’s sake.

he absolutely beams.

all the while you can feel him right against your back. he’s right there. just playing with you, hooked on every whimper and moan and twitch he can get from you.

“i’ve been waiting so long for you, you have no idea.” his sincerity is overwhelming and so are his fingers.

you nod. because that’s all you can do. “another, another. please.” you pant towards him.

“another what? tell me what you want.” he’s smiling, you can feel it.

“finger. please. can i, please?” oh, he melts. your voice softening for him and your body tense against his cock, he feels like he’s going to cum in his pants. he might.

“of course. whatever you want.” his free hand glides against your jaw, fingers grazing the side of your neck. he needs to kiss it, and bite it and leave something there. maybe as proof that this is real, that he has you how he wants you. feeling good.

so he does, he laps at your neck slowly. his fingers don’t stop fingering you, but he raises his thumb to rub at you. and that has you really going. twitching back into him, jumpy moans and sweet noises coming from you, uncontrollably it seems. your hand goes to cover your mouth.

“don’t ruin a good thing, baby. move your hand. let me hear you.”

“it’s embarrassing,” you stutter out.

he grins again, teeth grazing your neck. “i know. it’s okay.”

and it’s when you cum, with hips bucking and hand gripped onto his wrist, that he doesn’t stop.

tears well up in your eyes, “i came. i came, i came,” you chant, maybe he didn’t notice, maybe he didn’t realise.

“i know.” there’s no emotion in his voice, he’s so concentrated, so invested in what he can get out of you. what sounds, what actions, the way you move. it’s like he’s on a timer, he only has so much of it with you and he needs to milk it to its fullest.

“it’s sensitive, please. it’s too much,” tears well up in your eyes.

“you gonna cry?”

you nod against him.

“i’m sorry,” he presses his lips to where he’s bitten your neck, “brave girl. tough it out.”

what he says leaves you with no choice. something clicks in your head and you nod over and over again.

you whine and cry, blubbering words and sentences that don’t make sense. sensing that you’re going to cum again, you push against his fingers.

“don’t. stay still.”

“i can’t,” you whine, “i can’t again.”

“you can.” he smiles. he smiles and smiles and all you can do is twitch and cry out.

and when you cum for him again, pleasure overwhelming every part of you, he flips you onto your back, strong hands gently laying you back.

“my turn,” his grin melts as he presses the head of his cock into you. he preens at the feeling of you hugging him, “oh fuck. feels perfect. you’re perfect.”

your eyes scrunch closed, blubbering like someone who’s forgotten speech.

he’s sliding in and out of you, wanting to feel every single centimetre of himself in you. it’s heaven and he can’t believe that this will have to end.

your head starts to hit the soft headboard, tears still pilled up from the overstimulation on your body.

and then it just stops. he pulls out of you.

“back to you baby,” his hands slide against you once more, and you know it’s going to end with you sobbing against him.

a fun night.

563 notes · View notes

prettyboykatsuki · 2 months

Text

vanilla-cherry sweetheart | h. sakura

✮ tags ; gender neutral + afab!reader, dom top!reader, sub bottom!sakura, explicit feminization (referring to sakuras ass as a pussy, dick as a clit. the pet name good girl etc.), light dollification (reader dresses him up), rimming, anal fingering, pegging, cumming untouched, lots of gender fuckery, BRIEF breeding kink / pregnancy reference directed at sakura, excessive dirty talk, mirror sex 18+

✮ wc ; 5.1k (im crazy im crazy im crazy)

✮ a/n ; there's no way im not ovulating. this is insane. sorry. also sorry if there are any egregious typos i can only read this once over before i feel like exploding

✮ synopsis ; you think sakura makes the prettiest girl.

The soft slip of silk and satin feel weird against Haruka’s skin.

You’ve put effort into this, more than he thought possible. Every detail of him has been preened and plucked. A soft scent rolls off of his freshly smooth skin, cherry and vanilla. His hair is styled down against, bangs laid flat as opposed to push backwards, decorated with clips and accessories.

He has a face full of makeup on which was a pain to apply and even more of a pain to not rub off. His lips are parted, polished with color and his eyes are lined with a soft brown. There’s some shadow underneath, some glittery dust but everything is generally subdued. He hasn’t seen what the hell he looks like and he thinks he’d prefer it that way.

Like hell he’d wanna see what perverted things you’ve done to his face.

His clothes feel the most unfamiliar to him. Boxers replaced with frilly boyshorts. Bra straps tugging against his shoulder. Expensive so the fabric doesn’t itch. The kind without cups, all loose and sliding against his nipples every time he shifts. He’s wearing clothes you’ve hand-picked. Dresses that girls usually wear. Skin-colored tights underneath a patterned slip dress with that he doesn’t have the full chest to fit into, accompanied by a sweater hanging off of his arms and shoulders.

All of these details on Haruka’s musculature make no sense. It can’t look very good on him, he thinks. Haruka has a hard body. Sinewy muscles from manual labor and fighting, a square set of shoulders. He’s always been thin and languid but not…feminine. He has no idea how to posture himself. In what ways he should sit or stand, how to behave with these soft clothes and light scents on his skin.

The delicacy of your hands as they paint more of a nude rouge onto his mouth, makes Haruka blush further. His stomach turns as he stares at you, searching for answers he doesn’t find in the calm express on your face. You cup his jaw, your other hand using a lip brush to slide it against his mouth as you finish up with last touches. Focused as you prep him to your standards, whatever the hell they are.

Haruka won’t pretend to understand. He thinks most of the effort you’ve poured in priming him is wasted. He thinks that this whole affair has been stupid and he’s sure the minute he catches a glance at himself he’ll want to explode into a thousand little pieces. You’ve been so damn meticulous, Haruka can’t even bring himself to destroy your hard work. No stone left unturned, each and every element met with incredible focus and detail.

More shamefully, the attention has felt good. It’s hard to pretend that it doesn’t when it’s the only thing that makes Haruka bend at your will. He’s never had a relationship before, but he’s not ditzy enough to think your sex life is particularly normal. Nothing about you really is. Maybe your unbridled affection for Haruka can be attributed to that. It was you who pursued Haruka, you who courted him and romanced him - cornered him even as he ran away, with frustrating levels of discretion - until the option to fall for someone else had all but disappeared.

And Haruka had tried to run away from you. Many times. Your persistence wore him down until eventually his mind would only fill with you and whatever you wanted to do to him. With him.

(Haruka loves you to put it plainly. You’re clever and sardonic and interesting and he doesn’t totally get you but he loves you so madly it makes him crazy. Loves you for the ways you’re good and careful, and loves you for the ways you love him. You’re so good to Haruka, so good he can’t stand it. So good his head feels staticky trying to make sense of it

That’s why he’ll do anything for you, no matter how horribly shameful.)

It’s impossible, difficult, irrational - the breadth and depth of Haruka’s feelings for you are completely and utterly distanced from his own understanding. Where Haruka is abrasive yet timid, you are soothing but straightforward. Sincere. You’ve been gently introducing him to the depths of your affection, putting yourself forward in expressing your desires and thoughts.

You’ve always been this sort of person, you hope he won’t hate you etc.

You always give Haruka a chance to run away from you.

No expectations. A warm gaze from across a shared bed that turns Haruka pink, incoming dawn on his cheeks down to his shoulders and collarbones. He always has options, but he likes the option making you happiest. The words thank you sound like a hymn on your lips.

He tells itself its for you, and it is mostly. Mostly. After all this time though, he’s conditioned. His body is molded for your touch. The unwitting pleasure of submitting himself to you had shocked him the first time he really experienced it. How soothing you were, how easily you dragged him into abyss of pure pleasure. Pleasure and sex he couldn’t imagine existing.

Your touch had conditioned his body to burn bright wherever it lingered.

The shame is always there, pooling in his gut and lying in wait to swallow him. It overwhelms him whenever he’s alone.

But you always pull him from it, out of it - cradle him in the palms of your skilled hands as you whisper sweet platitudes against his skin. Praise him, fuck him into something boneless and desperate. Being exposed to a type of want, the euphoria in humiliation, the reclamation of his shame. It turns Haruka’s doubts into noise slowly but surely. He falls so deep into that depth, becomes completely unrecognizable only because he’s so sure you’ll catch him.

He hates it so much.

(Read: He hates liking it. Hates liking the forbidden sexual things you’ve introduced him too that he can’t forget. Hates liking the fact you’ve imprinted so mercilessly on his body and mind. Haruka could never be with anyone else. Nothing would work.

No one could make him feel like this. You’re the first and only in the world.)

A few weeks ago, you had mentioned wanting to dress him up like this. Stared, long and hard before petting his hair and assessing he’d make a pretty girl. There’d been traces of it before then but...

To have it brought up so deliberately made him hiss at you feral until you winded him back down. Asked if he would be fine with it, assured it’d be okay if not.

He said no then, and you didn’t ask again.

(He brought it up later and felt all melty seeing you beam.)

He thought it’d be simple. He’s seen stuff like this before when he went to look up other things you wanted to try. He thought it’d just be panties or clothes, something basic and lacy. Still perverted but simple.

But everything has been elaborately crafted to make him pretty. The soft drawls and whispered demands, the compliments, painting his nails and washing his hair and shaving him.

These are ritual acts of beauty, made to accentuate feminine appeal he doesn’t see in himself but you so clearly do.

After you’re finish up your last touches, you tell him to keep his eyes closed. You stand behind Haruka with a hand under his jaw once he turns in his seat, still blind to his new looks. Your voice is an appreciative murmur, so genuine and so raw it makes all the hair on his neck stand on end.

“Open your eyes. You’re so pretty, Haru-chan,” Your thumb slides against his cheek lightly. “Look how pretty you are.”

He doesn’t recognize himself. Adorned, dolled up. The sinew of his muscles and hard lines of his figures contrast against the shapely pulls of his dress. He’s smooth and smells nice, perfumed and stunning. The makeup on his face doesn’t overwhelm him. It’s him but he’s pretty. So pretty it freaks him the fuck out.

Pretty like a girl. The hell.

“What’s all this even for? Doesn’t make sense. I’m a guy and I’m not—,” He murmurs, trying not to shudder as he feels self conscious. You lean down, your chest pressed to his back as your arms circle around his neck. “You’re so weird.”

You ignore his empty threats skillfully. “It’s for me to fuck you in,”

He wants to be pissed at you but you look so pleased. Obvious satisfaction making your shoulders relax, eyes raking over him in the mirror again and again. He looks in the mirror and sees a version of himself so…cute it’s unfathomable it’s even him.

He makes a noise of discontent, lip jutted in a pout. That’s met with an airy laugh. “Seems pointless.”

You smile at him in the mirror and his skin shades a deeper pink, tucking his chin.

“It’s fine if you think that,” You murmur. “Is it okay if I make you feel good now?”

“Don’t say it in such an embarrassing way.” He grits. You laugh again as you bend down over him where he sits, kissing him once before the two of you stumble into shared bed.

Haruka feels conscious of himself when he finally lays back into the sheets. His dress rides up near over his lmees and there’s nothing underneath to shield him from your hungry view. His tights are too sheer of any use. You amble on top of Haruka, sitting on him as he lays back.

You admire him for a long while like that. Palm settled on his waist, you trace his features with appreciation. “You’re a beautiful girl, aren’t you Haruka?”

“I’m…” He deflects instinctively. A coy smile tugs at the corners of your lips as your fingers find the hem of Haruka’s dress. It’s a loose thing, a printed pattern decorated with a frilly hem meant for a more shapely frame. You toy with the material, rubbing it between your fingers. “Fuck off,”

He can’t bring himself to say he’s not a girl. For some stupid reason. The words die on his lips when he stares up at you and sees you looking at him so reverently. So expectant without words. He squirms and looks away.

“What word do you say when you want to stop, Haruka?”

“Tomato. Or I can pinch you,” He repeats from memory. You smile lovingly.

“Right. Is there anything you want to say to me?” Do you want me to stop?

He looks away, frown deepening. Relieved when you take his silence as compliance as you often do so kindly.

“Don’t worry about anything else,” You slide the spaghetti straps of his dress off his shoulder, pulling it down past his chest and revealing the soft patterned black lace underneath. His nipples peek through the material, the rosiness more noticeable through the paneling. It looks so lewd from the angle he sees it. “Just focus on being a good girl for me,”

Haruka lets out a strangle protest before uttered soundless from your steely gaze, nodding frustratedly as your hands slide up to his chest. You brush Haruka’s nipples lightly with the dull edge of your nail, his spine arching responsively to the pleasure. It’s a brief touch, a promise of what’s to come. You lean forward pressing your lips to his as you rub the hardened buds until they’re tender. His lipstick smears a little onto you, a dusty rose. Haruka moans into your mouth, entirely aware of the thing barrier between your touch and his chest. Your fingers are deft in rubbing his nipples as your tongue occupies Haruka’s. You lick against his lips and tongue, sucking on it lewdly. .

Shameless in your pursuit of him, his ass throbs from prior prep and his cock stirs to all the sudden stimulation.

The way arousal floods his brain scares him. He can’t fight it. You’re so good with your hands. Good at everything, like knowing where and how and when exactly to touch him. His cock tents, strains against the suffocating nylon wrapped around his legs and waist. He shivers as he feels the leaky tip press against the silk and push desperately through the nylon - stretching it with it’s length. His whole body is throbbing urgently.

You kiss down Haruka’s bare chest until your mouth finds one of his nipples. You suck them through the cups first before tugging them away slightly and giving Haruka what he wants which is the full heat of your mouth. You’ve made him so weird. Wired his body into feeling this unimaginable pleasure in places he hardly used to touch.

His hips buck into anticipation, mouth open and panting as your incisors sink into the flesh of his pec.

He cries out, shuddering as he grabs the nape of neck to anchor himself at the wet feeling. His blood is rushing south making him light-headed. He feels needy, sensitive. So much anticipation had built up while you spent time on him and all of it floods to his mind all at once. The attention you pay him and only him.

The weight of your gaze clings to him.

“Your clits getting all hard and sticky from having your nipples teased,” You point out. Haruka groans reflexively at your tone of voice. “You’re a perverted girl, huh?”

Haruka should protest your words. He wants too. The cognitive dissonance should cause him discomfort but he finds only euphoria in it’s wake. He can’t understand why. It’s all so weird, but you sound so sure of yourself. Falling deeper into those unfamiliar depths makes his anxiety curl up in his chest yet when he looks at you it all fades.

He feels greedy. Feels so selfish when his mind chants for you to keep looking at him just like that. He falls deep into that familiar liminal space, warm and comfortable.

Your eyes are softened and assured. Haruka makes a pathetic whine. It doesn’t feel like his voice. He protests the words right away. “I’m not,”

“Not what, Haruka?”

He blinks at you wetly, brows scrunched. He huffs. “I’m not a pervert, dammit.”

It’s the right thing to say. He thought it’d be. You light up at the admission, sucking a mark into his neck as you grab his waist a little more and grope him all over. You can’t keep your hands off of him, your fingers searching for all of his skin as you kiss him again more feverishly. He wraps his arms around your neck, his sweater sleeves slipping awkwardly when he does, making you kiss him harder.

“My Haruka. My Haru-chan,” You murmur against his lips in between kisses. Haruka opens his eyes to you looking utterly adoring. Lovesickness bleeds into your eyes, a drug to his system as you direct it his way. “So pretty and perfect.”

“Shut up,” He goads, trying to get you to kiss him a little more. “You’re so annoying.”

You kiss again, deeper and stronger before pulling back. “I’m gonna eat you out, Haru-chan.”

The words make him gasp, shiver - goosebumps covering every visible inch of your skin. “Gonna make use of your pretty pussy and split it open on my cock, make you cum from the inside like a good girl.”

It melts him down to his core, spoken with such clarity - smooth leaving your lips and so genuine. Haruka has been fucked enough to know how it feels and to want it. He thinks of all times prior, and feels the plug inside of him more consciously at the mention. He squeezes his legs together from the arousal, like a girl he thinks and the whines somewhere deep in his chest. Preens for you.

His consciousness feels like it’s fading with each step, each breath he heaves from his lungs labored.

He forms his lips around words that never escape him. Before long you’re scooting yourself further back, down between his legs until you’re faced with his clothed erection.

Arousal nips at him at the sight of your face near his cock underneath so many layers. You purposefully hold the skirt of his dress and rub all over - emphasizing the shape through it. Haruka flushes at the way his cock sticks up against them. Distorts that stupid floral pattern, stretches it. His ears grow hot at the lascivious image it paints. Your palm glides over his bulge once, twice, three times before sliding it up again.

A wet patch stains his nude nylons visibly after all of the teasing, pre-cum dribbling between two thin layers that makes Haruka want to die. Your voice is gravelly, lacks it’s usual amusement. “You’re so wet, Haruka.”

He shivers and huffs.

His cock twitches and his ass is throbbing. Unspoken desire nips at him as your thumb presses against his slit through layers of fancy material. Praise falls from your lips crassly. He becomes more aware each second. His bra and panties, his dress and skirt, the feeling of make-up on his face and the sensation of clips keeping his bangs away from his eye. He looks like a girl and his dick is leaking, twitching, pitifully as you touch and caress him.

His head rings heavy with the words wet.

He wants you to touch him more. Nearly begs with his eyes for you get the memo.

And you do. Of course you do, all wispy and pleased by his obvious desperation for your touch. “Haruka’s got such a needy little pussy, huh?”

He hisses, swears, takes a sharp inhale of air as your fingers find the seam of his stockings and pull until they rip unceremoniously. You pull them until his cock and the insides of his thighs are open to air, and snagged nylon shrinks against his waist. His panties, black boyshort lace panties, make his milky skin look whiter and the tip of his cock redder.

It’s so unbearably dirty to him. It’s so humiliating. Vanilla scented skin and the heady scent of his own cum, his painted, blunt nails digging into the palms of his hands - bitten chest and misplaced bra, all of it is so humiliating. Makes his dick even harder under everything as your fingers wrap delicately along his shaft with the fabric. “You have to cum from the inside first, Haruka,”

You remind him and he aches, grits his teeth about it but you don’t budge.

You don’t take Haruka’s panties off either. The panel of fabric barely covering his cock instead gets pushed aside. Haruka bends his legs up instinctively. Your thumb taps on the jewel end of a plug, one he’d mostly forgotten about until he’s forced to be reminded it of it. He swears loudly.

You make an abrupt move suddenly, reaching over to bedside table and rifling along for things you’d both need. Lube, a harness, and something to fill Haruka with. You settle back between his legs when you’ve got them all before you carefully tug his plug away from him.

The emptiness makes him whine - hole pink and fluttery and open. Your thumbs pull him open until he gapes a little more, hands massaging his thigh. “Such a perfect pussy.”

Haruka makes an aborted noise - a pitchy whine cut off as you dip down further and further until your nose tucks against his perineum and your tongue slides over wet hole.

He cries out at the sudden intrusion, muscles fluttering as you force your tongue as deep as it can go. It’s embarrassing, so shameful he could die and it feels incredible.

“It’s fucking dirty,” He shouts, cries, prying himself away from you before it can feel even better. “Stop, it’s—“

“Ish not dirty,” You mumble, words mumbled against his puckering hole. “I helpedth you clean, remember?,”

You pull away and your face is wet with something, lube likely, but the visual mixed with everything else makes Haruka want to crawl into a hole. Your hands on his thighs are soft and your eyes gaze, turned on him is sparkling. “You’re a cute girl, Haruka. Saying things like it’s dirty. But this much is normal, okay? It’s only polite if I eat your pussy.”

His stomach flips, heart racing at the ease of your words. A cute girl. Being praised in such a way… so genuinely. Enough to make him think it. Haruka likes being your boyfriend, your good boy but there’s something so much naughtier about all of this that makes him want to cry. His body is so chery red, down to his neck and shoulders.

You’re going to fuck his pussy while he’s wearing these lacy, frilly, girly clothes and he wants it so bad he could die from the shame.

“Do you want me to eat you out? Do you want me to make your pussy feel good?”

The words come out like a sob, ripped out of his labored breaths. “Fuck, yes —“

So you dive back again, pressing your tongue to Haruka’s hole with reckless abandon. It feels strange but it feels good when you tease and slurp. It’s sensitive and ticklish with each stroke, something about it feels dirty. All the hairs on the back of his neck stand - electricity shooting through his nerves and making him pulse hot all over. You’re doing it so passionately, eating him out like he really has a—

He moans a little, shuddering, cock dribbling pr-espend. Tip ruddy and desperate, he want more. He grinds against your face searching for it, hips chasing for friction.

He knows what he really wants even if it’s too shy to voice it. His body feels so empty, so uselessly empty. He casts his gaze on your harness, your cock—laying beside him and clenches without thinking. He wants it so bad he’s drooling, aching, hips pushing against air as he moans while you eat him out. Please, please,please.

You make an appreciative noise into him as you pull away, his hole soaked from your saliva as you look up at him from between his legs. Noticing the state he’s in, faced reddened and chest heaving. He feels so ruined and so, so stupidly horny. He wants to cum any way he can, he thinks.

He looks at your face, absolutely lovestruck, then shivers.

That’s not true. He wants to cum from your cock, from being fucked. He wants to cum like a girl.

“I want you to see yourself baby,” You say, all warm. Haruka pants. “Come here,”

Haruka is dazed as you help him up to his feet and guide him back to your vanity. He can barely stand he’s so hard. His knees buckle further when he sees himself in the mirror.

God. He looks ruined. His makeup smudged slightly at mouth despite himself, his bitten chest and skin and his clothes. His ripped tights. All of it is too overwhelming to process. He decides against thinking.

You wrap your arm around his waist from behind. “My pretty girl.”

Haruka covers his face instinctively, squirming. “Shut up.”

“Mm,” You put a hand on the front of his thigh. “Put your knee on here and your hands on the vanity table, Haru-chan.”

Haruka obliges only because he can barely keep himself upright other wise, propping one knee onto the vanitys bench. He’s close to himself in the mirror this way - the lights making him look at himself with more scrutiny than before. He has no idea what it is about this you like. Gold-silver eyes, short hair - everything about him, he doesn’t see what you admire.

But you’ve put so much focus into accentuating each of his features. It’s skilled in the way Tsubaki is. Everything done with meaning.

He looks at himself closely. The sweater around his arms, the shiny polish on his fingers, the jewelry. The ornery of it all messy and ruined. Mascara rings around his eyes and his lipstick is swiped messily. All of that effort to make him so beautiful only to fuck it all up. It’s fitting. To be made and completely ruined by you in the same breath.

When you return to him, you’ve got your strap harnessed and lube in your hands. Pour it onto his pussy and rub it in with rough touches, doing the same to your silicone cock before tossing the bottle back towards the bed. You finger Haruka open with a hand on his hips, squeezing appreciatively at his ass through tights before tearing them even more.

He groans, gripping onto the sturdy vanity for his life as you work him back open soft enough to be fucked.

“Haru-chan,” You murmur, leaning forward to press a kiss the small of his beck where his dress rides up. “I’m going to fuck your pretty pussy and make you watch,”

Your crass words sent heat flaring through up his spine. His nerves fray at the end. He pushes his hips back on instinct as you slip a third finger in, curling against his prostate. Nearly slipping, Haruka lets the sensation bleed through him, tip weeping as his pussy aches for the perfect stretch.

“Deep breath, Haruka.”

He takes in a sharp inhale as the head of your cock swells inside of him. Pushes past the puffy, pink rim of his hole and stretches around the sticky, veined shaft. His mind goes numb, body limp. Your hand pushes down on the curve of his back until he’s arching properly, feeling it deeper. His body and mind disconnect, acting on instinct as his teeth grind making up for the emptiness. The tables edge digs into his palms hard and Haruka shakes. His mouth drop opens, drooling from the corners of his lip.

“Deeper,” He groans, can’t think, can’t think of anything but the delicious and obvious intrusion of your cock inside of him. “Harder, fuck.”

“I wanted to be gentle,” You tsk then thrust. Slam yourself into the welcoming tightness of Haruka’s pussy without second thought, knocking all the air from his lungs. “It’s good to be gentle with girls. Haruka likes it rough though, right? You like your cunt mistreated even though you’ve got such a cute face.”

Your hips grind against the back of Haruka’s ass as you bottom out and his cock twitches. His vision goes white, body taut before trembling violently. You pause. “Did you cum, Haruka? Did you cum from having your pussy filled?”

He’s shaking. He can’t stand up properly. He’s so full. His stomach is so full, he’s so happy to be so full. It feels so good everything in his vision is white, smatterings of starlight behind his lids when they flutter closed. His pussy feels so good. He feels good for you. He’s so contented nothing else makes sense.

“Haruka,” Your voice is wrecked. Like you were the one being devastated, not him. “Oh, my perfect girl. Cumming from my cock, so good. You’re a good girl, you’re such a good fucking girl. Such a tight pussy.”

You fuck Haru with reverence. Pure delirium. His eyes widen frantically when you pull out and blow wider when you slam back in - forcing him to hold onto the vanity for dear life. You angle yourself and fuck Haruka hard and hot without so much as another word of warning. Praising him endlessly as you look at him in the mirror.

“Fuck, look.” Your hands go around to his chin, cupping his jaw upwards with free hand until he sees himself in the mirror in sheer bliss. He sees you in the reflection, too, besotted. Flushed all over, eyes glazed over in complete hunger. Haruka looks embarrassing, looks euphoric and messy and so filthy he can’t believe its him he’s looking at. “Look how fucking pretty you are.”

You pull Haruka up back his arms until his back is against your chest when you fuck him, sinking your cock so deep he feels it in his throat. He cums again, dry, from the inside just like you want. The wet slam of your hips is making it hard to think.

“So beautiful. Gorgeous, aren’t you? So stunning even without all this. My beautiful Haruka’s and his pretty, perfect cunt. You’re made for me to fuck you like this. Made for me to fuck you like a girl,” You babble, voice hoarse as you fuck into him hard and precises over and over and over. “Made for my dick. Should fuck you pregnant, keep you all filled until you carry my kid , turn you into my housewife.”

It’s nonsense. Useless, horny filth. And it makes his head spin, makes his body ache so hot when you say it. Hearing you praise his cunt so affectionately, being made to take your cock. All of it makes his blood rush and turns him stupid. Impossible but his body aches at the possibility as it gets filled. Haruka can’t keep his head on straight, can’t find his tact or pull away from you fucking him so ruthlessly.

He moans your name with his voice shattered, hands at his sides as you pound away. Dick slapping against the soft plane of his stomach each time, dribbling cum onto satiny floral and dying it white.

His body goes taut. He can feel it. He’s going to cum again, going to cum harder.

His voice is shot as he begs.

“Touch me,” He whines. “Touch me,”

“Touch where, baby? Say it.”

He nearly buckles. “Touch my c-clit. Make me cum, fuck.”

“Good girl,” You praise, so sweetly. “Such a good girl for me,”

Your wet hands wrap around Haruka’s shaft and everything he was keeping pent up inside him explodes all at once. You barely stroke twice before his cock starts to twitch so hard it hurts, an orgasm hurdling towards him full speed before he nearly gets knocked down. His spine arches against you as he finally, finally gets the relief he wants and he cums.

Haruka cums hard. Thick, heavy, wet ropes of white semen splash onto your vanity and mirror, into your fingers as you fuck him through his orgasm, jerking him off hard until he’s howling from overstimulation. He’s overwhelmed when you bottom out, sticky hand holding his hips as you grind.

“I’m close,” You pant. “Hold still.”

Haruka feels as you grind yourself against the leather harness of the strap with your forehead pressing his back and feels aroused all over again. His brain is so clouded with lust he can’t stop the words from escaping his lips as he looks at your face in the mirror trying to cum.

“Cum in me,” He begs helpless. “Want you to cum in me,”

And you push yourself into him further, deeper, hips rutting until you drop down in a shudder and scream. “Fuck. Shit! Cumming in you, fuck,”

You cum and still drunk from the endorphins Haruka thinks its a waste you didn’t cum inside - too deep in his head space to think about the whine from his lips.

You breathe slow and kiss his shoulders and all over his neck. “Love you, Haruka.”

He shudders. “…Love you too,”

#sakura x reader #sakura haruka x reader #windbreaker x reader #sakura haruka smut #writing tag #wind breaker smut #no i dont want to talk about this actually

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minty364 · 8 months

Text

DPXDC Prompt #61 part 1

Danny didn’t like thinking about his old life. He was born to a family of assassins and as soon as he was out he never looked back. He had to fake his death and he changed his name, as far as anyone knew Damian Al Ghul had died on a mission to America. He was determined to keep this secret to the grave. Of course he knew who his dad was, Bruce Wayne was a prominent figure and he knew if we went there his secret would get out and he never wanted to be forced to be an assassin again. Once was enough.

Danny knew he had a soft heart, his adoptive parents, the Fentons and Jazz had told him so. Jazz knew he didn’t have the greatest childhood or past but she never pried, she understood his business was his and wouldn’t let her own curiosity get the better of her. The only issue their family had was their parents obsession with ghosts. Damian never believed in ghosts, the entire thing sounded like a hoax. He probably never would have believed in them but then life happened.

Danny believed, but it was kind of hard not too after everything that happened. When he had turned 14, his parents finished their biggest project yet. A portal to the ghost zone, of course it doesn’t work at first and his parents were very disappointed. Danny felt conflicted about the whole thing. On one hand he wanted his parents to succeed and he wanted them to be happy, on the other the portal was the reason he ate alone with his sister at night. He wanted a normal family life, something he was never allowed back at the league.

He did something so stupid that night.

After his parents along with his sister were asleep, he crept down to the basement and stood in front of the empty hole in the wall. He looked around the outside of it first but nothing seemed to be out of place. Then he stepped into it and before he got too far into it something happened. He knew there were a lot of cords on the floor and thought he had avoided them all, but as he realized he was quickly being acquainted with the floor, he out of instinct held his hand out to catch himself on the wall. Right onto the ON button.

He didn’t remember much but pain after that.

A lot happened in the year after the portal was turned on but Danny thought he was taking things well. His sister found out about everything sooner than he liked but having someone to help him was something he didn’t realize he really needed until then. The ghost attacks were frequent and Danny was having trouble finding the time for school, friends, and fighting ghosts that the assistance helped a lot.

Danny sat at as desk in Mr. Lancers class, who was going on about the play Hamlet. Danny was only half paying attention, he was preoccupied thinking about the latest conversation he had with Clockwork. Danny was recently crowned prince after his victory over Pariah Dark. He didn’t want the crown, ancients knew what Grandfather would do if he ever found out, but he had no other option but to accept. The conversation left him rather drained and it felt like every word his teacher spoke bled together.

He eventually made his way to lunch and before he could make it to his destination a blue mist wafted out of his mouth. Sighing he ran out of the room to find a place to transform. Once he was Phantom he wasted no time finding the ghost. Of course it was Boxie.

Before he had time to even fight though a portal opened up right besides Danny and he was kicked in by the Box Ghost. The world seemed to swirl around him until he landed harshly onto some pavement. The pavement was a roof and he appeared to be in a city.

Not just any city he soon realized as he looked over to a bank that had the words ‘Gotham Bank’ brightly plastered on the front.

Shit… Danny wanted to avoid something like this, unfortunately the portal was already gone.

After taking a moment to think about his predicament he decided the best course of action was to call Jazz.

He took a look around the rooftop he was on and when he didn’t see anyone he transformed back.

Pulling out his cell from his pocket he pulled up his sister's contact on it and hit the call button.

His sister took a bit longer than usual to answer but the hesitation in her voice caused him to pause, “H-hello?”

“Jazz, it’s Danny, we’ve got a code green,” he knew setting up code colors with his sister would come in handy. Red meant he was gravely injured, yellow meant the ghost got away and he was in pursuit, blue meant he caught the ghost, and green meant he fell through a portal or something similar.

There was silence on the other line for a moment and Danny was almost going to say something else but she spoke, “How do you know my name?”

Master Post:

#dp x dc prompt #dp x dc #dc x dp #danny fenton #danny phantom #Damian ran away from the League of Assassins and changed his name #He meets himself in the next chapter #Danny dies #my asks are open #all my prompts are free to use #Honestly a little tired #I got fired yesterday from my job #They just said my position wasn’t needed anymore because they were caught up #I spent the last month helping them get caught up and it just sucks because it sounded more long term lol #Please let me know if I’m doing this right #I’ve never had this many followers or even close it on any other social media account #So this kinda terrifies me but I really appreciate the support I’ve gotten on here

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zweiginator · 2 months

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Omg omg I saw a p0rn caption with a father in law and ejsjajkakan

DILF!Patrick who's stepson is just as scummy as he was. And it shouldnt piss Patrick off - he's not even his actual kid, and why does he care about you, the stupid pretty girl who seems oblivious to the things that your boyfriend is doing.

But you're so ... Sweet. You do the dishes without being asked. You wear *curlers* to bed.

He must be getting soft. Why else does he get painfully hard watching you putter about the kitchen in the mornings? Why does he sit through your stupid TV on the many nights his idiot stepson leaves you home alone? Why does he find himself furiously fucking his fist after you walk by in your tiny silk PJs, but its your sweet smile he needs to think about to come? He's inside another woman, and she's doing everything right, but it's your smile that gets him there, and he bites back a moan of your name?

He really must be going soft. And when you find out the truth about his stepson - he'll just have to make sure he's there to pick up the pieces.

🐼

oh panda yes…

and patrick can’t be mad about it—he must’ve learned it somewhere. the old adage is completely true. the apple didn’t fall far from the tree. and patrick is a single father because of his own sexual endeavors, his utter inability to keep his dick in his pants and stay tied down with commitment.

his son, before going off to college, didn’t hold onto girlfriends. maybe he had internalized his own parents’ relationship and that’s why he cheated on them, screwed them over.

but then after his junior year, he came home with a girl on his arm. you. you with a pink duffle bag and a stuffed bear tucked under your own arm. patrick had told his son it would be more than fine for you to stay with them. your relationship with your own family complicated and your ability to afford a flight home extremely limited.

you tell your boyfriend how sweet his father is. so kind and doting. he helps you pass the time—while his son sleeps in until two in the afternoon, you’re up early, making pancakes and sipping coffee in your silk pajama sets. patrick tries not to stare as you bend over to pick up some chocolate chips that fall to the ground as you try to open the bag.

you don’t realize patrick was awake.

“mr. zweig. sorry to make a mess—i hope you don’t mind. just wanted to make a nice breakfast.”

he shakes his head, sitting down at the kitchen island as you plop some butter into the hot pan.

“no worries at all sweetheart. what’s mine is yours.”

he smiles and you see your boyfriend in him. for obvious reasons, it makes sense. but patrick is more mature. he pays more attention. he talks to you about the world, your studies. your family and plans after college. where are you from? you don’t sound like you’re from around here.

butterflies burn inside your stomach because your boyfriend doesn’t care this much to ask. he likes sleeping in and drinking beer. going out on saturdays and lazy conversations that don’t reach the profound depth that your’s and patrick’s do.

you talk with him all morning. he shares the pancakes with you and he compliments them endlessly.

“wow—“ his eyebrows furrow as he takes the last bite, melted chocolate smearing on his lip. “these are delicious. you’re quite the catch!” he nudges you and you want to sit closer. he does too. he can’t be thinking like this, about his son’s girlfriend. your nipples are hard, poking against the silk of your pajama top and he quickly looks away. he gathers the dishes.

“you go and get ready for the day. i’ll do the dishes honey.” he winks at you; a habit born from old behaviors. old habits die hard. and it’s no harm. he’s not being a creep. and how you smile and nod—it doesn’t seem like you mind either.

and as soon as his son wakes up, he’s out the door. he goes to his friend’s house and doesn’t invite you. instead of moping, you ask patrick to teach you tennis. you can let him hang out with his friends alone—you have the whole summer.

patrick is more than willing. and your tight purple tank top and little white skirt is so enticing. he likes how it flips up and down as you jump to hit his serves.

“you’re a natural!” patrick peeks at you over his sunglasses. he takes his shirt off and you can’t help but watch. you’ve wondered how his body looks underneath those loose t-shirts. he’s toned and tan and jumping into the pool now.

“come in! it’s too hot out there.” he splashes some water at you and you roll your eyes. you jump in and pretend patrick is your lover. that he cares like your boyfriend should. like he desires you. and you don’t realize patrick is thinking the same thing. jumping through hoops in his mind to ask himself if it would really be so bad to flirt with you, share a kiss or two with you. the fact he’s doing mental gymnastics at all shows it’s wrong. he pushes the desires back, fights it like it’s tug-of-war.

he has to go, he tells you. he has a lunch date. you try not to let your face fall. but you can revel in some alone time. as he leaves, you change into your bikini and grab a book you brought.

he comes back a few hours later; your boyfriend is still out.

“how was your date?” you ask patrick. he has to work to lift his eyes, to stop them from staring at your tits, at the sweat pooling in your navel, how your lips part to take a sip of water.

the date was okay, he tells you. he doesn’t tell you that he fucked her, back at her apartment while her kids were at their father’s house. the sex was good but patrick found himself thinking about your body being pinned beneath his instead of hers. he had to stop himself from your name falling from his parted lips as his cock stroked in and out of her. you’d be so tight, so thankful. he can tell his son doesn’t give you the attention you need. you deserve.

your boyfriend doesn’t come back until late at night. almost one in the morning. and you hear patrick yelling at him.

“are you fucking kidding me?” patrick slams the magazine that he was reading down onto the coffee table. "you invite your girlfriend to this house and you fucking ditch her all day?"

"dad--" he rolls his eyes. you're listening from your room, the guest room. you don't want to share a bed with him. he's drunk. you're mad at him. "why does it matter? i'm just having fun with my friends."

patrick is silent for a moment and you can't see them. he points at his son's neck, marked with hickeys. "she deserves so much better. you're not good at hiding it. i know it because im not either."

"exactly--you're not one to talk. cheating on mom with some fucking bimbo--" patrick grabs his shirt.

"this isn't about me. this is about you. i've felt bad about that for years. but you don't invite your girlfriend here and fucking ditch her."

"whatever." he goes to bed. slams the door. patrick knows you're not sleeping with him; he checked on you when you fell asleep after dinner.

and against his better judgment, he goes upstairs and opens the door. you're asleep so peacefully, hugging your little stuffed bear, snoring softly. you wake up, thinking it's your boyfriend. what does it say that you're relieved when you see it's his father instead?

"mr. zweig?" you rub your eyes. the name makes him hard. everything you do does.

he closes the door and locks it. he's sure his son is asleep by now.

"is he back now?" even with so much pent up anger towards him, you're still worried about him. patrick admires how caring you are.

"yeah. he's sleeping."

you don't ask patrick why he's there. you just peel the covers back as an invitation, and patrick joins you. his bare chest is warm against your skin and you feel his breath fanning into the crook of your neck.

"you deserve better, you know." he whispers it against your ear, half-thinking that you may have fallen back asleep.

you open your eyes and peer at him through your lashes. "i don't know better."

patrick tilts your chin up. "i can show you."

and he feels awful. his son is right about him. and can he be mad at his son for being so distinctly like his father? can he be mad at his son when he was secretly hoping for something like this to happen? for an excuse for him to knock on your door and tell you there's good men out there and one is right here and he can show you how a woman should feel, be treated, be pleasured.

maybe you don't realize what patrick means, but you don't pull away from the kiss. it's desperate because you are. for affection, for attention. the kind patrick's been giving you. he pries his mouth open, intent on pushing his tongue against yours, tasting the remnants of your toothpaste. you moan. you run your hand down his chest just to feel him, to see if this is real. he pulls you into him so your body is flush against his. you want him to suffocate you with his chest and his arms, the smell of his cologne still stuck on him from hours ago.

your hands tangle in his hair and you don't realize you're rutting against eachother. patrick's hands go under your top. he feels your nipples and you lean into his touch, cuddling your head into the crook of his neck, your back now pressed against his chest, half on top of him. his hands are so big and strong and he's breathing heavy into your mouth.

you want his hands to move down. you do it yourself, dragging his hand under your shorts. and when he feels how wet you are, all bets of stopping this before it goes too far are off. he's drunk off the smell of your vanilla lotion, the feel of your chapstick on his own lips as you whimper against him. he rubs circles over your clit and plunges his fat fingers into your cunt and you fuck yourself against them.

"mr. zweig--" there you go with that fucking name again. "fuck me--i want you to fuck me."

he could do the right thing and shake his head. say no, this is all so inappropriate. but you grab his erection and push his pajama pants down. he pulls your back so it's flush to his chest and he doesn't waste time, nudging his cock into your pussy. so tight, so ready. he holds your legs and pushes inside all the way. your head leans back into his shoulder. a mewl, and broken moan.

"god--fuck. this is what you deserve. this pretty pussy--" he rubs your clit, spitting on his fingers.

you're lost in it, in him. his balls are heavy, slapping against your ass as he fucks you, his fingers digging into the back of your thighs. for most of it, you're just staring at each other, at dilated pupils and red bitten lips, parted.

he holds your hips and you move them to feel him deeper. he's about to cum because he's telling you so. his sweat is sticking to your back and his spit is in your mouth. you love it all.

"cum in me--i want your cum."

he does what you want. he's a strong, older man but he can't say no to you and those pleading eyes, welled with tears. he's stretching you to the brim and he's cumming inside you and a part of you wishes he could get you pregnant and you could be his forever and ever.

#ask #patrick zweig smut #dilf!patrick #cw: age gap #🐼 anon

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suzukiblu · 2 months

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Please, cuddling, and TimKon?

. . . I am sorry but also I am NOT sorry for what I have done with this reply, but hey, why don't we all enjoy this one being the only prompt fill from this meme that got a read-more cut??

“Please,” Kon tries, trying not to look–he doesn’t know, weird and needy and like an embarrassment, or whatever. It feels like such a stupid thing to ask for. He knows Tim’s not really a hugger or a touchy-feely guy or whatever and that he likes having his own space and basically always hops out of bed right after sex to go write down all the shit his post-nut clarity made him think of, and the idea of, like, just staying still and actually cuddling or whatever is probably basically literal torture to him, assuming it’s ever even occurred to him at all, just . . .

Just he’d kind of like to sometimes, maybe? Like–not regularly or whatever, he’s not trying to drive Tim nuts or cut into either his worktime or downtime here, just . . .

Just he’d like to do it sometimes, that’s all.

Tim’s not the tactile type. Tim isn’t even the eye contact type, unless he’s lying to somebody or at work or just faking it for Robin-mode or whatever. Kon gets that. He’s been, like–careful about that. Not trying to take up too much space or ask for too much attention or mind when Tim doesn’t even look up at him when he–

He’s been careful about it.

But he is . . . well. The tactile type. Like . . . kind of, anyway.

Like–it’s kinda unavoidable, honestly.

“Oh,” Tim says, blinking at him in just enough bemusement to make him feel even more self-conscious about bringing this shit up to begin with, and Kon tries to keep his expression casual and noncommittal and–and just normal about this. Because he is totally normal about this. He is so normal about this. He is.

He’s also normal about the fact that when he asked Tim if he could talk to him about something, Tim didn’t even put down his tablet. Didn’t even put it to sleep, or actually even look up from it until . . .

Kon’s normal about that. About all of this.

(and he definitely never feels kind of weird or a little bit abandoned because Tim can’t EVER just bring his stupid laptop back to bed or at least work on whatever he’s thinking about IN the bedroom at the untouched desk he's got set up in there or even just, like . . . stick around and hang out on the couch with him, or anything like that. he definitely totally ENTIRELY doesn’t ever just feel like a casual fuckbuddy or an easy hookup or a gala-night accessory or just the most immediately convenient option and not actually–not actually any kind of a–not actually something that–

he doesn’t.

definitely.)

“Uh,” Kon says, and backpedals awkwardly, because clearly this conversation is not going the way he’d wanted it to and Tim just looks so surprised by it all, like–like it never even occurred to him or something, that maybe . . . that maybe Kon would want anything like that, or like he literally just hasn’t noticed how hard Kon’s been trying to be normal about it, or . . .

It doesn’t feel very good, the idea he’s been trying so hard to respect Tim’s space and preferences and comfort levels and Tim hasn’t even noticed that he was doing anything at all.

Especially because Tim usually notices just about everything.

Maybe Tim’s just never thinking about it. Maybe he gets out of bed so quick because he’s spent the whole time in it thinking about other shit and just putting up with–just–

“Kon,” Tim says, his voice going a little tight, and Kon just tries not to wince. He didn’t mention any of the complicated stuff he’s been trying not to feel, he just asked if Tim could–if Tim would–

He didn’t even mention any of the complicated stuff, so it’s, like–not a great sign that Tim’s looking at him like that right now, like he’s said something really serious or upsetting or . . .

He really shouldn’t have said anything, yeah.

“Sorry,” he tries stiffly, glancing away and wrapping his hand around his own wrist and digging his fingers into the inside of it. It’s–tactile. Just . . . something tactile. “I know you don’t–sorry. Uh. Just forget it.”

“Fuck,” Tim mutters for some reason, and Kon feels like such an idiot for saying anything at all, and a worse one for apparently doing it in a way that’s got Tim making that face at him. That face is Robin’s “my utility belt is empty, comms are fried, and the mission just went to shit” face.

He really fucked this up. It was fine. Everything was fine, and now he’s wrecked it and Tim’s about to say it’s not even that serious, it’s not like it’s even–not like they’re even–and that Kon’s clearly gotten the wrong idea and they should just–just–

“How long have you felt this way?” Tim asks very, very carefully, like the question’s something fragile, and Kon thinks from literally the first fucking time you left me alone in bed all night so you could go recalibrate some stupid useless specialty sensor that wasn’t even part of your primary gear, like, a WEEK into us sleeping together and says, “I dunno. It’s not–I told you. Forget it. It’s not a big deal.”

He’s being weird about this. He’s being an asshole about this, actually, because being prepared for literally every single possible contingency ever is the Bats’ whole thing and he got into this knowing Tim wasn’t the touchy-feely type or all that expressive and emotive about–about his feelings, or whatever, and–and it’s not like he even–not like he–

(he just wants a fucking HUG he didn't have to FUCK him for every now and then, or for Tim to at least exist in the same space as him for longer than the time it takes for the next email from Oracle to come in or next alert from Batman to go off or next self-assigned project to finish processing or–

but that’s not something Tim does, and Kon knew that going in, so–so it’s his own stupid fault if he feels SMALL sometimes, when . . . when there’s always something else, always another problem to solve or place to be or thing to think about, always . . . always something more important than just . . . staying, just for a little bit, and just BEING with–with him. just him. not the team, or either of their families, or . . .)

He knew all this going in, Kon reminds himself. He knew it. If he were this bad at being with literally anyone else, he’d just–he’d just–

But something about it being Tim means he just . . . can’t.

Tim’s jaw tightens, and he finally sets down his stupid tablet.

Only now, though, Kon thinks bitterly, and digs his fingers a little deeper into the inside of his wrist.

“Kon,” Tim says again, says too carefully again. Like something’s fragile, again. “I–”

“I said forget it, for fuck’s sake!” Kon snaps too hotly, and maybe hates himself for both doing it and for the stricken look that doing it puts on Tim’s face, and also maybe cheats a bit by super-speeding straight out the balcony door into the night air and not taking his cell or his communicator with him. Or–definitely does, in fact. Definitely that’s cheating. He knows it is.

He just really can’t stand to hear Tim tell him how he’s fucked up this time right now, though. He just–he tried so fucking hard not to fuck up this time.

He really, really tried.

He should’ve known it wouldn’t work, but . . . but he really did try.

#timkon #tim drake #kon el #conner kent #dc robin #superboy #anonymous #why yes I DID pick a 'cuddling' prompt to be angsty and painful!#yes I did!!#it is now 'hurting the blorbos o'clock' friends #is this specific fill a little bit because of the excess of fics where Kon is just 'Perfect Cardboard Boyfriend' for over-woobied Tim?#and never allowed to have feelings or character flaws or faults or an arc of his own??#or a single personality trait that is not just 'being perfect for and perfectly supportive OF Tim and all his issues'????#(at least not without getting disproportionately punished by the narrative????????)#maybe! maybe it is!!#who knows!!!!#look man in all seriousness sometimes you can love somebody and suck at communicating with each other and I just wanted to write that #and also like a more realistic version of having a partner who has issues or whose issues clash with YOUR issues #so like behold my works ye mighty and despair

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