#i just want things to stay the same for a little bit but they’re about to change a TON | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

saetoru · 1 year

Text

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩ how long does it take to fuck your brother's best friend? (four whole days)

synopsis. suguru comes home to visit from college at the same time you do—except he brings satoru along. this is going to be a long break

word count. 8.5k (i am tired of this tomfoolery)

contents. college! au, brother's best friend! satoru, fem! reader, minors do not interact, three-year age gap (you're both early twenties), slightly mean satoru (when you’re kids), slight enemies to lovers, jealous! satoru, mentions of reader having an ex-bf, male masturbation, satoru is taller + carries reader, cunnilingus, fingering, handjobs, unprotected sex, brief mentions of alcohol (satoru), creampie, pet names (baby + sweetheart), not proofread i could not be bothered i’m sorry

notes. this was not supposed to be this long bye i am embarrassingly down bad for the blue-eyed freak

everyone knows that where there is satoru, there is suguru—and likewise, where there is suguru, there is satoru.

they’re a bit of a packaged deal, really. satoru befriends your brother in what you think must be some twisted stroke of luck—there is no way suguru would lower his standards for some rich bastard who’s had life made for him since the day he was born. but apparently, he does, and you’re stuck with a white-haired nuisance in your house at least once a week. for years.

you’ve known satoru since he was a whiny, snot-faced, and spoiled little brat. back then, he used to call you toothless—you were six, it’s normal for children at the age of six to lose a few teeth. just because satoru is nine and has grown his teeth back doesn’t mean he escaped the toothless phase himself—but satoru is just a jerk like that, pushes your buttons, and calls out your insecurities to get a good laugh.

you don’t smile with your mouth open even once around him that summer, not until suguru assures you that regardless of how many teeth you have, you have a lovely smile.

when you’re twelve, puberty does its thing, and now you’re stuck with acne-prone skin—also a normal occurrence for people your age, but satoru makes sure to point out the giant pimple on your forehead every time he sees you. you make sure to let him know his haircut is as awful as his sense of style, and suguru tries his best not to choke himself with his charger as you both bicker.

satoru is gone that entire summer for a family cruise that you’re sure costs double your house—he comes back frighteningly taller than you remember him within the span of just a few weeks.

it’s been like that since you were kids. he comes over, finds a new thing to pick on through his smug grins and smooth chuckles, and you fume as you bite back with just as snarky rebuttals. he makes sure to never cross the line of going too far—it’s more for suguru’s sake, you’re fairly sure—but stays right on the dot of getting just under your skin.

he’s annoying. a jerk. a rich snob. a privileged dickhead. he’s rude and disrespectful, with no tact, let alone any semblance of respect. you don’t understand what could possibly make suguru want to hang around such a douchebag, but suguru cares about satoru—and satoru has always been there for your brother.

you don’t understand it, but you respect it. as long as he doesn’t wet your entire bathroom sink and mirror in the mornings after he stays over, you suppose you can coexist.

but you haven’t seen him in ages—not outside of suguru’s instagram stories and posts. it’s been a long few years since the two of them have left for college, and by the time you leave too, life has its funny way of working, and, well…you don’t bump into him anymore. it doesn’t occur to you that satoru is not the same guy you used to know until you come back home to visit after your second year of college.

“suguru,” you call, “i borrowed your hoodie. but you can have it back—”

you cut yourself off when you open the door to your brother’s room, and lo and behold, stands a very shirtless gojo satoru, the white-haired and blue-eyed asshole you’ve had to deal with since childhood. except he’s way taller than you remember him—just how much does this guy grow, exactly? his shoulders are broader and….and since when did he have abs? there’s a small tattoo just under his collarbone—when did he even get that? his hair is also longer, just enough to fall over his forehead and curtain those striking blue eyes of his.

he looks…well, handsome. very handsome, in fact. dangerously handsome that it catches you by surprise as you blink.

he’s still shirtless, holding his t-shirt in his hands as he grins.

“hey, toothless,” he greets, voice deeper than the last time you heard it—but it still sounds relatively the same. you think you’d always recognize satoru’s voice, whether you’d like to or not. and, of course, he just has to still use that ridiculous nickname after all these years. “long time no see.”

“i have all my teeth now—i have for a long time, y’know. and put a shirt on, you freak,” you huff, rolling your eyes, “where’s suguru?”

“what, you don’t enjoy the view?” he motions at his bare torso, like the shameless bastard he is, “most girls love this view—”

“and yet, you’re still single,” you cut him off, staring at him pointedly.

he grins impossibly wider, tugging his shirt over his body swiftly—you have to exercise all ounces of control not to gulp as you watch his biceps flex.

“keepin’ track of my love life?” he wiggles his brows, “i know older men can be appealing but have a little class. your poor brother would lose his shit if you went after his best friend—”

“satoru,” you sigh, pinching your nose, “do you age backward or something? how are you still this obnoxious after so long?”

“i practice in the mirror,” he winks, “it’s my charm.”

“that’s hardly charming,” you roll your eyes, “anyway, whenever suguru comes back, let him know i left his hoodie, yeah?”

“sure,” he chuckles.

and then you close the door as you leave—right before you stop, pause, and open it up again as you’re sticking your head back in when you make a shocking realization.

“wait, how long are you here for?” you ask, eyes wide.

he has the audacity to look smug as he taps his chin and pretends to think—“oh, y’know. just the rest of break. my old man took my mom on some trip, so i’m killing time here,” he shrugs.

great. lovely. wonderful. just what you needed.

you wish he’d drop dead—maybe suguru will finally be forced to go outside of his one-man circle and actually befriend some respectable people.

“you can’t just stay at your place?” you hiss, “it’s certainly big enough.”

“well, why be lonely in an empty home when we can have fun here?” he hums, “consider yourself lucky—you get to be housemates with me for a—”

“keep to yourself,” you warn, cutting him off again through narrowed eyes and a dangerous glare—satoru only looks more amused, raising his hands up in surrender.

with that, you turn again and almost shut the door when he calls for you—“hey, toothless,” he says lowly, making you pause before turning to him with a raised brow. he smiles—it’s so unlike that usual smirk of his…somehow this one is a bit gentler as he murmurs, “you look good. grew up well, y’know.”

you blink. you’re not ready for that…didn’t expect a compliment from gojo satoru himself—especially not after all this time of throwing mediocre insults your way.

you decide he must be messing with you, so you purse your lips as you click your teeth in irritation. “yeah, sure,” you say dryly.

you can hear his chuckles as you close the door again—this is going to be a long break.

—————

just as expected, the house is simply not big enough for you and satoru.

the first time you run into him happens to be first thing after waking up—you’re walking up to the door just as he twists the knob and opens it, walking out shirtless. again.

this time, however, he’s got beads of water rolling down his skin from his shower, right between his pecs, as a towel hangs around his shoulders. you can see his tattoo from up close now, a small infinity sign right under his collarbone that contrasts against his pale skin.

how tacky, you think—just as you’d expect, even his choice of tattoos is questionable.

his hair is wet—it’s sticking to his forehead instead of the multiple directions it usually scatters around in that messy way it always does. you’ve only felt satoru’s hair once—when you were fifteen, and you’d hit him in the back of the head as you walked past him at the breakfast table. he’d made a jab at your dark circles. tests were around the corner, and unlike satoru, your grades actually mattered. you didn’t expect his hair to be so soft, but it is, and you almost itch to twirl the strands around your fingers for a quick feel.

instead, you scowl and stomp off to your room as soon as your dishes are washed.

his hair is probably just as soft now—maybe even softer now that he actually probably cares to look after it. you’ve heard suguru grumble about using two-in-one shampoo too many times when he comes back from spending the night at satoru’s. for a second, your fingers twitch to reach up and brush through a few strands on his forehead—just to feel them because they look soft. nothing else.

the urge is quickly killed as soon as he opens his mouth, however.

“oh, hey there, roomie,” he grins, “you’re really doing all you can to catch me half naked, huh?”

“don’t flatter yourself,” you grumble.

“i’m just sayin’,” he chuckles, “that’s twice now. if you ask nicely, i might walk around like this just for you.”

it’s way too early for this.

by early, it’s actually late noon. now that finals aren’t killing your free time, you stay up until ungodly hours to catch up with your social life—and it doesn’t help that you can hear satoru and suguru stay up playing video games the next room over, either. suguru is probably still sleeping.

that’s a bit of a shocker, in fact—usually, it’s satoru that has to be dragged out of your brother’s room to have breakfast (or brunch, really) before the kitchen is cleared up. why satoru is up first is beyond you.

maybe it’s just a cruel way for the universe to enjoy watching more of your veins pop.

“does that apply to asking you to leave? because then i suppose i can ask rather politely.”

he grins, eyes sparkling with amusement as he shoots you that smile with those pearly whites that irritate you to no end. you’re not sure why, but something about his smile looks so much different nowadays—something about it just seems so….mature.

that’s a word you didn’t think you’d ever use to describe satoru.

“mm, not quite,” he hums, “you’re still stuck with me.”

“whatever,” you mutter, rolling your eyes. “move, i want to shower before suguru wakes up.”

“you have time,” he steps to the side, letting you enter the bathroom, “he’s probably not waking up anytime soon—woah.”

satoru’s shirt is on the floor—why, you may ask? because he’s an annoying idiot who doesn’t have to clean up after himself when people have always been around to do it for him. he never has to care to aim and toss his clothes into the hamper because the maids will pick up after him anyway. old habits die hard, you suppose—you’ve listened to suguru complain about satoru’s messiness not improving even after being his roommate for the last few years. it’s never been your problem, but you don’t appreciate it now that you’re slipping over the fabric on the tiled floor, falling backwards with a squeal.

but satoru’s quick—he catches you with those strong arms of his and wraps them tightly around you, keeping you securely in place as he steadies you against his chest.

his bare chest, in fact.

you can feel the slight dampness seeping into your shirt, and you can feel his hot breath on your neck as he exhales in relief once he makes sure you’re safe. you almost shiver—almost, but you manage to scrape together enough self-control to stay painfully still in his grasp.

“you okay?” he murmurs gently, voice a low whisper against your skin. there’s no bite to his words. no amusement or teasing or even smugness. it’s genuine, the way he checks on you.

this is…new. very, very new.

“yeah,” you breathe, letting out a sharp breath. and then—“maybe keep your clothes in the fucking hamper next time, though.”

“sorry,” the smile in his voice is almost audible—you can’t see it from where you are, but you can hear it in his voice. you roll your eyes, and satoru makes no move to loosen his arms around you. for some reason, you don’t move.

you’re not sure why, but you just don’t.

“you’re still just as messy, huh?” you roll your eyes—he laughs, and it’s a smooth, boyish chuckle that almost makes you wonder for a moment if this is why girls seem to love satoru so much despite his god-awful personality.

it’s a pretty beautiful sound—you hate that you have to admit that to yourself.

“yeah,” he admits, “it drives suguru nuts.”

“yeah, i can’t imagine why,” you snort. it’s like that for a moment—satoru’s muscled arms around you and hard chest pressed against your back. finally, you clear your throat. “you can let go now, you know.”

“right,” he mumbles, slowly pulling away—and when you turn to face him….is that disappointment? on his face? you don’t get a chance to be sure because then he’s bending down to pick up his shirt before he’s standing—he’s already wiped the expression from his features completely by then. “sorry about that, toothless. i’ll keep my shirts off the floor next time.”

“that would be so kind of you,” you smile sarcastically.

and then you shut the door in his face and exhale as you lean against the wall.

this is going to be a longer break than you thought.

—————

the next time you run into him, it’s late at night. everyone is asleep—even your brother and his headache of a best friend, if the silence tells you anything. you can’t sleep, though, so you make your way to the kitchen to hunt for snacks. you’re skimming through the pantry before your eyes land on a surprise—a box of strawberry pocky sits nice and enticingly, right there for you to open and devour.

you grin, reaching over when—

“those are mine,” satoru calls, stepping into the kitchen, “brought them over myself. you should ask before touching people’s things.”

“you literally ate my leftovers the other night,” you say incredulously.

“those were yours? i thought they were suguru’s.” he raises a brow in surprise, making you click your teeth in irritation.

“the principle of asking still applies,” you purse your lips. and then defiantly, you open the box and grab a pack right before his eyes.

he scowls—but you know he doesn’t actually mind because he waits for you to finish grabbing yours before taking the box and grabbing his own pack and a coke from the fridge. you both take a seat at the kitchen table, across from each other, as you open the packaging and silently eat your newfound snack.

it’s satoru who breaks the silence first.

“do you still throw away the ends of these?”

you huff indignantly, not meeting his eyes as you take a bite off the strawberry-covered end, stopping at just where the cookie portion is uncoated. “yes. i’m eating these for the coating—not the bland biscuit part.”

“what’re you, five?” he snickers, earning a glare from you. defiantly, you pop the end of the pocky stick into your mouth just to prove a point—and then the look of distaste makes him cackle louder.

“shut up,” you hiss, “you talk too much.”

“the ladies love it when i do,” he bats his lashes—you stare at him blankly, unimpressed.

“yeah, as if.”

“hey, my ex-girlfriend totally did,” he defends.

ex-girlfriend? that’s a bit of a shocker—you didn’t know satoru dated anyone in the last few years, you haven’t seen or heard anything of it through suguru’s end. in all realness, you didn’t even think satoru was the boyfriend type…but then again, he’s not really the anything type. he just kind of exists to take up space and be the bane of your existence.

“i hope the poor girl is recovering well after dating you,” you shake your head, feigning a concerned look on your face that makes him roll his eyes—they’re still disturbingly bright even in the dark kitchen, dimly lit by the slightest bit of moonlight pouring in through the small window.

“i dated her freshman and sophomore year,” he says casually. you also didn’t expect that—that it lasted that long. something about satoru doesn’t strike you as the long-term relationship kind of guy. something about him doesn’t seem like the relationship kind of guy at all. not because he’s the type to mess around casually, but because he seems the type to seem disinterested all around—he’s snobby like that. “she was…alright, i guess.”

yeah. very snobby.

“you are such a sick bastard,” you spit.

he snorts, taking a bite of his pocky as he shakes his head in amusement. you’re as feisty as ever—it’s always fun riling you up, even if unintentionally.

“hey, it’s not like she was bad. she was just…well, she wasn’t interested in me like that either,” he shrugs, “i think it was just the sex. it was good, can’t lie there.”

“you’re so gross,” you roll your eyes, “have some decorum.”

“what, you’re still sixteen?” he raises a brow, lips curling into a smirk as he reaches for another pocky, “can’t say the word s-e-x?”

“i don’t broadcast my sexual activities out in the open,” you shrug.

satoru chuckles, taking a bite that more or less finishes the entire stick in one go before he presses a finger to his lips, “shh. don’t say that too loud—suguru will come chase you from his room if he hears.”

“suguru,” you groan, “he’s such a pain to have around sometimes. y’know i dated this one guy last year. i think suguru might’ve paid him to dump me.”

“i know. he definitely thought about it,” satoru hums, “he used to go off about it all the time. he was right, though—that guy was a total prick.”

something about you is mildly shocked that satoru knows about your private life—sure, it’s not outrageous or even the slightest bit unlikely that suguru mentions you. satoru and suguru are best friends, and you happen to be suguru’s sister—of course, suguru is bound to mention you here and there. it’s just the fact that satoru even pays attention to anything to do with you that surprises you—although you suppose it would be a good way for him to find his next source to push your buttons.

“i’m not surprised you think he’s a prick,” you nod, “it takes one to know one, after all.”

“oh yeah?” he snorts, waving you off, “i do, in fact remember anniversaries, y’know.”

“okay,” you sigh, defeated—your ex-boyfriend is admittedly not at the top of the list of your brightest choices. not even up halfway on the list. in fact, he’s so low on the list of good choices you’ve made, that willingly choosing to interact with satoru feels like an exceptional decision in comparison. and that’s saying something. “he was pretty bad. but he was really hot. when a guy looks like that, his values are the least of my worries.”

it’s a joke—you’re sure he knows that. but satoru takes a long sip from his coke, silent for a moment. you don’t think you’ve ever seen him so serious, especially so suddenly.

“he can’t be that hot,” he mutters.

“oh he was really hot. probably the hottest guy i’ve ever talked to—” satoru bites his pocky a bit aggressively at that, “and he was so tall. maybe taller than you—how tall are you again? anyway, he was pretty enough to overlook his shortcomings.”

“he’s probably not taller than me,” he grumbles, frowning. you snort—men and their fragile little egos, you think in amusement.

“he was,” you tease, “he was so tall, i’d let him do whatever he wanted.”

“that’s a terrible way to look at it,” he scrunches his brows, “you shouldn’t let some guy walk all over you because he’s tall and his face is a bit easy on the eyes—”

“i know you’re not talking—”

“i’m serious,” he cuts you off. something about him reminds you of suguru for a moment—like he cares who you’re with because he has a reason to. as if you mean something to him, as if knowing someone who doesn’t deserve you has you in their palms is upsetting.

but then you shake the thought out of your head—satoru doesn’t care. he’s never had a reason to, and you don’t exactly plan to give him one, either.

“okay, dad,” you roll your eyes, “i learned my lesson. i have standards now.”

“good,” he nods—and then, as if to keep himself in character, he adds, “because i don’t want to help suguru kill someone, and it’s over something lame like forgetting his little sister’s anniversary. i’d like to go to jail for something more badass.”

“you and badass don’t belong in the same sentence,” you raise a brow. “let’s be realistic.”

“oh yeah? that’s rich coming from—”

“guys, it is five in the morning,” suguru grumbles, throwing a water bottle at satoru’s head. you glance at the kitchen entrance, eyeing a half-asleep and very irritable suguru as he crosses his arms, “can’t you idiots fight over who’s more of a loser at reasonable hours? some of us like to sleep.”

“want one?” you offer your pack of pocky, holding it out to him.

suguru blinks, contemplating for a second before sighing and trudging over.

“yeah,” he mutters, flicking your forehead. “gimme that.”

you watch woefully as suguru takes the entirety of your pack, swiftly sitting next to satoru and leaving you empty-handed. satoru snickers obnoxiously at the deflated look on your face—and then he holds out his pack to you.

you look between him and the pack for a moment before giving him a genuine smile. it’s a rare sight—he drinks it in as you carefully take one and bicker over something with suguru.

you’re pretty when you smile, he thinks—pretty enough that if you had horrible values (which you don’t), he might feel inclined to understand your (awful) reasoning for a moment.

and then he blinks and shakes the thoughts out of his head—it’s going to be a long break.

—————

satoru meets you when you’re six.

he’s nine at the time, and he feels on top of the world knowing he’s three whole years older than you—in hindsight, three years is not a very large gap, but to nine-year-old him, it feels like centuries. he’s remembered you as the fun little drama queen that’s too easy to poke fun at for years—that’s all you’ve always been: suguru’s younger sister who puffs her cheeks out and scowls way too often to be normal, the girl that’s way too easy to tease than should be standard.

somehow, he wasn’t expecting for you to come back so grown…and so hot. suddenly, it really hits him that you’re not a kid—have not really been for a long time now. he’s always treated you like you’re way younger than he is, way too little to be in his presence and be worthy of it—but you’ve really become a fine young woman.

a magnetizing one, in fact.

it’s now his third night at your house—your parents are as lovely and welcoming as ever, and suguru is always a good time to be around. but somehow, satoru is not satisfied. not anywhere near sated by the few, minimal moments of contact with you.

when did you get so pretty? although, as much as satoru has always liked to poke fun at you, you’ve never been ugly. not even a little—but you’ve grown into your features better, outgrown the awkward teenage era of your life, and now present yourself with a newfound confidence that just looks…so good. satoru doesn’t see his best friend's kid sister anymore—no, there’s something so alluring about you now.

the nail on the coffin that solidifies he’s officially screwed is when you mention your ex-boyfriend—why would your dating life make him this irrationally angry? why is the thought of someone being on the receiving end of your praise (and shameless heart-eyes) so aggravating for him?

he doesn’t know—but what he does know is that the raging boner has been killing him all morning ever since he woke up from…well, less than proper dreams about you.

so now he’s here, forehead pressed against your shower wall as the hot water hits his back, swollen cock in his fist as he thumbs at the tip, teasing the slit just the way he likes. he thinks about you—how he’d show you what makes him feel good, how you’d probably learn fast and take care of him just the way he needs.

your hand would look so much daintier compared to his—smaller, but he’s sure it would still feel infinitely better.

he bites his lip, fighting back a moan as he strokes himself slowly, pre cum smeared along the length of his hard, aching cock—red and angry at the tip, leaking with more pre cum no matter how many times his thumb collects every drop.

“f-fuck—” he breathes, and his voice lets out a shaky, breathy little call of your name—he’s screwed if anyone hears it. he’s sure you and suguru will both band together to kill him, but thankfully, the words are lost in the sound of the shower running. “fuck baby,” he says hoarsely, voice cracking ever so slightly as he whines.

it’s soft and quiet, the noises he makes—careful and deliberately hushed to make sure no one hears the improper way he’s thinking of you right now. but fuck, your tits are so pretty when you walk out of your room in a t-shirt in the mornings—he can just tell you’re not wearing a bra. he can’t stop thinking about it, can’t stop trying to picture what they’d look like uncovered and bouncing.

“jus’ like that, baby,” he pants, whimpering softly as he squeezes around his tip, teasing himself with that slow, painful pace of his.

satoru is sure that if it were you, that if the hand stroking his cock right now was yours, you would never let him cum so easily—you’d drag it out just like this, pump him slowly and twist your hand around him in a pace that’s painfully not enough before ever thinking about letting him come undone.

it’s just the way that you are—never ready to back down from a challenge, unwilling to go down without a fight. but he loves it, he thinks—lives for the way you keep him on his toes and work for the satisfaction.

“more,” he gasps, “n-need more—gimme more, sweetheart.”

he imagines it—the way you’d kiss his jaw, maybe even the corner of his mouth, as you hum. say please, toru, you’d probably say—and fuck, he’d kill to hear you say toru.

“please,” he rasps, “please, baby. d-don’t tease.”

he can practically hear your light giggles, the sweet, okay, baby. no more teasing, that you might whisper. he’d also kill to hear you call him baby—he’s almost nauseous at the idea that some other guy must’ve heard the pet name from your lips before him. and then he lets himself pump his erection faster, squeezing tighter as his thighs quiver while he stands in the shower.

fuck—you feel so good. you’re not even here, but he’s sure you do, and he’s desperate to envision it. it practically hurts—the way he’s so hard and swollen and ready to release. just for you, he wants to tell you, he’s going to cum all for you.

“baby,” he whimpers, “‘m so, so close—fuck ‘m gonna cum. ‘s for you—gonna cum for you—ngh, sh-shit.”

and then there’s cum on the tile walls, on his hands, on his abs as they flex with every labored breath. satoru cums—hard. his eyes are squeezed shut, lips parted with a silent cry as he pants and strokes himself through his high. you’d kiss him, he likes to think, on his jaw and cheeks and maybe the tip of his nose as you sit on his lap and work him through his orgasm. you’d watch him closely, take in the way he comes undone for you, maybe even call him your pretty boy as he paints your hand white with his seed.

would you praise him? murmur softly into his ear and seal the gentle words with a kiss to his skin? would you stroke his hair from his face as you admire his blissful, fucked out little expression? maybe he’d ask you then—maybe he’d ask you to admit he’s way more handsome than that douchebag you dated as your hand holds his softening cock, sticky with his release.

god, what he wouldn’t do to see your hands coated with his cum—did you do this for your ex? did he look as hot as you claim he was when he came for you? the thought makes him sour—he grits his teeth and clenches his jaw at the idea, panting and catching his breath as he stares down at the mess he’s made.

he should feel bad—this is wrong. so, so wrong—suguru would kill him if he was aware satoru was lusting over his little sister. but it felt so fucking good—he’s never cum as hard as when he’s pictured cumming for you.

it can’t be that wrong, if that’s the case—can it?

——

“suguru,” your voice is shrill, deadly—like you’re out for blood. “next time you jack off in the shower, maybe clean the fucking wall? are you joking?”

“wha—i definitely cleaned that,” suguru defends.

oh, fuck, satoru thinks—he forgot to clean that. so he makes himself very scarce and stays within the confinements of suguru’s bedroom—his messy habits are starting to really catch up to him. if his defense, he really would clean that up…it’s just that he was a bit distracted.

“so you admit you jack off in our shower? our shower?” you sound inconsolable, downright devastated, and borderline hysterical. having siblings seems like a lot of trouble, he thinks—but then again, sometimes satoru is jealous of your bond with suguru. it’d be nice to have someone in his family he can actually depend on. “keep that shit for your bedroom, you jackass!”

“well, how am i supposed to do that when satoru is there? you tell me.”

“i don’t know! figure it the fuck out—you guys probably jack off together anyway.”

“what?” suguru sounds appalled, “we do not—that’s outrageous.”

“whatever,” you say—you sound almost murderous as you warn, “next time you better clean up your fucking mess, you asshole.”

satoru can’t help but smile a little—your pointer finger is definitely held up as you scold suguru—you’re so cute when you’re mad, he thinks. he almost wants to step out and catch a glimpse, but he decides against it for now.

silently, satoru thanks his best friend for taking one for the team—even if it was unknowingly.

—————

it’s night four.

satoru has surprisingly kept to himself—he even promptly looked away after meeting your eyes in the kitchen yesterday morning as you walked in for breakfast. that’s…new. a lot about satoru is new.

he’s taller and more muscular now—at one point, suguru used to tower over his scrawny little form. now he’s seemed to grow into his body, seemed to learn how to style himself better, and actually do his hair a bit. it’s still messy now that he’s just lazing around in your home—but it’s oddly handsome.

scarily handsome, in fact.

you don’t enjoy the idea of thinking about the jerk of your childhood like that—but ever since you felt the hard press of his chest against your back, sometimes you wonder what it’s like to know satoru outside of just your older brother’s obnoxious friend.

maybe, somewhere along the line, had you put your pride aside and actually tried to get to know him, maybe you both could at least be friendly. but then again, there’s never been any real animosity between you two—you can share a lighthearted talk from time to time, like that night in the kitchen.

you decide not to dwell on it too much, decide that he’s not really worth your thoughts when he’s just a guy who’s always been a bit too spoiled to learn how to be humble. instead, you go down to the kitchen to grab another pack of strawberry pocky—satoru will just have to deal with it. if he doesn’t want his snacks eaten, he shouldn’t keep them in the pantry where anyone could stumble across them.

you walk into the kitchen until—oh. it’s satoru. again.

“oh, hey,” he grins cheekily, taking a sip of his coke—he needs to break the habit of having so much sugar this late at night…but then again, why would it matter to you? “stalkin’ me?”

“for an unwelcomed guest, you sure do talk a lot,” you roll your eyes, making his lips curl into a smug little smirk.

“i don’t know—your parents seem to love having me over. what if i become their newest son?”

“i doubt my parents are looking to adopt you,” you raise a brow, slightly amused.

he hums, sipping his coke before blinking at you through those long, perfect lashes of his. “well, there are other ways to blend into a family. marriage, for example, is a great way.”

“you and my brother might as well marry each other,” you snort, “no one else will do it.”

“who said anything about suguru?” he winks, chuckling when your face twists into an exaggerated look of horror—always as dramatic as ever, you are. he can’t help but find an endearing side to it now.

satoru stands, walks over to where you are and stands in front of you as you scoff, shaking your head as you huff out a disbelieving chuckle.

“that’s pushing it,” you muse, “marrying you would be the last open option i’d have left—and even then i doubt i’d ever take it.”

“yeah?” he raises a brow, leaning in so close, you can practically feel his breath fan over you. he smells like expensive cologne and your shampoo—why is he using yours instead of suguru’s? before you can even ask him what he’s doing, he throws away the empty can of coke in the trash can behind you, eyes bright with amusement as your breath hitches.

it’s like he knows—the fucking asshole.

“yeah,” you breathe, “you don’t deserve me,” you try to say matter-of-factly. it comes off a bit more breathless than you intended—the air feels suffocating. maybe because satoru is so close, maybe because his breath is on your face, maybe because all you can smell and feel and hear is him.

you can’t find it in yourself to pull away—why aren’t you pulling away? it’s just like that day he caught you, when his arms wrapped around you and all you felt like doing was lean into his chest. what about satoru and you has shifted so quickly to make you want to do that? what makes him so easy to fall into when all you’ve always known was to shove at him?

he hums, leaning in closer and closer until his forehead touches yours. “you know who didn’t deserve you?” he asks, “that shitty ex of yours.”

you look up at him with wide eyes, speechless as his hands find purchase of your hips, grabbing them and pulling you closer—and against better judgment, your hands lay themselves across his chest. it’s as firm as you remember it.

“how would you know—”

“heard suguru rant about it all the time,” he murmurs, “how he forgot your dates. got you a shitty birthday present. didn’t show up to your anniversary. made you hang out with his friends and didn’t even meet half of yours. you’re tellin’ me he deserves you more than me?”

“he was hot—”

“yeah? and i’m not?”

he’s cocky—you hate that about him. always did. but he’s so close, so intoxicating, so irresistible, and fuck, he is hot—so incredibly hot, you’ve been losing sleep over it the last four nights no matter how hard you try to deny it.

“satoru, what are you—”

“y’know, i’ve been helping suguru pick your birthday presents since you were twelve. i’d pick you the best gifts,” his nose is brushing against yours now, lips just millimeters away from his as he speaks—“and i never forget an important date. i’m very punctual too, believe it or not. i’d meet your little friends—show ‘em what a catch i am when you introduce me.”

“and what am i supposed to do with this information?” you ask defiantly.

it’s a last-ditch effort—you both know this. you know exactly what he wants you to do with this information.

“i don’t know, sweetheart,” he chuckles, “what do you think?”

and then you’re kissing him—because fuck, satoru is right there, and how could you not? his chest is under your palms, his lips are right against yours, and you can feel his thumb rub circles into your hips.

so you kiss him—loop your arms around his neck and tug him closer and press your lips to his. he groans, responds almost instantly as his mouth molds against yours, kissing you deeper as his hand moves to cup your cheek.

your lips are softer than he thought, and his hair is silky against your fingers. you tug at the strands, grab a handful, and feel them against your fingers like you’ve wanted to for so long. and when he nips at your bottom lip, who are you to deny him? your lips part, letting his tongue slide in and taste you with a breathy sigh that makes your knees wobble.

“s-satoru,” you stutter, whispering between kisses, “suguru might come in like last time—”

“god,” he groans, head burying into your neck, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses against the skin, “don’t fucking talk about your brother right now. please.”

“my room,” you say urgently—it’s all he needs to hear before his hands are on your ass, grabbing you as you wrap your legs around his hips. it’s urgent, the way his mouth is back on yours—he doesn’t pull away even once the entire walk to your room, not even when he lets your back fall onto the mattress as he hovers over you, pressing kisses along your collarbone.

no bra, he notes happily, his hand sneaking under your shirt to toy with your pert nipples.

“god, you’ve been driving me fuckin’ crazy,” he mumbles, tugging the hem of your shirt over your arms and tossing it over his shoulder. he stares, takes in the sight of the same tits he’s been fantasizing over for the last few days in awe. “you know that? been thinkin’ about these for days,” he says lowly, cupping your tit and massaging as he presses a kiss to your jaw.

“you’re shameless,” you mutter, snorting before you cut yourself off with a gasp as he squeezes your nipple, pinching and rolling it between his fingers and pulling a soft whine from you.

“shhh,” he chuckles, tilting his head toward the wall next to you, “don’t want suguru to hear, do you? that wouldn’t be nice, would it?”

“it’ll be worse for you than me,” you grin, tugging at the hem of his own shirt, indicating you want it off. he grins widely, wiggling his brows and making you purse your lips.

“wanna see me shirtless again, huh? third times the charm, as they say,” he winks. you would retort with something as witty, but then your eyes fall on that tattoo again—right under his collarbone, making your hand reach out to trace it with your thumb.

“what compelled you to get this corny little tattoo of yours,” you grin, giggling as you trace over the small infinity sign.

for the first time, you think you witness satoru shy, blushing as he rubs the back of his neck and chuckles awkwardly. “that…that was an accident. when i got drunk for the first time.”

“oh,” you snort, “you’re so weak, satoru—”

“do me a favor, sweetheart,” he hums, cutting you off, “as much as i love when you say my name, say toru for me, yeah? i wanna hear it.”

you roll your eyes, huffing as your hand finds the back of his head and pulls him into another kiss, moaning into his mouth as he grinds the throbbing erection in his sweats over your heated core.

“toru,” you say breathlessly, “more.”

that’s all he needs to hear—satoru doesn’t waste a second before he’s crawling between your legs, sliding your cute little pajama pants down your legs before meeting your dripping pussy.

it’s wet—so wet, he almost wants to chuckle and tease you a bit. just for old-time's sake. but the ache that shoots down to his cock reminds him that he’s in no position to tease you when he’s not faring any better himself. so he spreads your legs, kisses lightly at your clit in a feather-like touch that has you whimpering and clutching the sheets in anticipation.

“how pretty,” he mumbles, “been hiding this pretty little thing all this time. what a perfect pussy.”

“satoru,” you gasp in embarrassment, hands reaching for his hair and tugging him closer to where you need him most—equal parts because you really need his mouth on your cunt and equal parts because you really need him to shut up.

but he chuckles, takes his time to spread your folds open with his thumbs, and watches in wonder as you flutter around nothing, arousal dripping and leaving a mess. it’s perfect—you’re perfect, and he wants to take his time with you.

“god, you’re soaked,” he groans, chuckling as he murmurs, “that’s fuckin’ cute.”

before you can even whine at the way his words are shameless, his mouth is back to kissing your clit, lips wrapping around it as he sucks and rolls his tongue along the sensitive bud. his fingers sink deep into you, pushing past your folds and slowly bullying into you until the tips of his fingers curl and brush against a spot that makes you squeal.

you gasp a breathy, “fuck, toru—” before he hums around your clit, vibrations making you whimper as he thrusts his fingers back in to hit that spot again. it’s sensitive, the way he makes you feel—your nerves are on fire, and your head is light, and fuck, it feels so good you can’t help but sob brokenly and squeeze your thighs around his head. he moans against your cunt, pulling his fingers out before letting his tongue lick a stripe along your slit, tasting you with a sharp inhale.

“f-feels good,” you whimper, biting your lip as your eyes crinkle at the corners from squeezing shut.

“yeah?” he hums, kissing your inner thigh, leaving a wet little sheen of his spit and your arousal on the skin, “that’s a good girl—just keep telling me how good i make you feel, kay?”

he could stay buried nose-deep into your pussy for as long as you let him—tongue alternating between fucking into you and rolling over your swollen clit, hearing the broken little gasps and whines of his name as you repeat toru over and over again like a prayer. his hand grips at your thigh, sinking his fingertips into the plush skin and rubbing soothingly with his thumb as you rut your hips and grind against his face.

satoru has half a mind to watch it again—to lick and suck at your core again and again just so he could burn into his mind what you look like when you cum. it’s divine—like he’s halfway to stepping into heaven and has to pause just to admire the sight before him.

your hips leave the mattress as your back arches, and your fingers tug relentlessly at his roots as your walls quiver, letting satoru taste every drop of your release as you press a palm to your hand and try to keep yourself from squealing at the pleasure.

suguru is right next door. you can’t wake him—can’t let him know this is what you and his best friend get up to in the late hours of the night.

it’s not until satoru pulls away, catching his breath as he wipes the wet trail on his chin does he realize how hard he is—how badly he’s aching as his cock strains against his sweats. he hisses as he frees himself; ridding his sweats and boxers and wrapping a large hand around the tip of his erection and smearing the leaking pre cum along his length.

you watch in awe, reaching over and replacing his hand with yours. satoru was right—your hand is infinitely smaller than his, and yet, it feels a great deal better. so much better, in fact, that his arms shake as he hovers over you, burying his head into your neck and groaning as you slowly stroke him, squeezing at the tip and rolling your thumb through the slit.

he didn’t even have to show you what he wanted, what makes him feel good, what makes his mind fog with pleasure and burn through every nerve. no, you figure it all out on your own, pulling strangled moans and hushed gasps from him that make your clit ache once more.

“fuck, baby,” he pants, “can’t last long like this—c’mon, g-gotta feel you.” gently, he pries your hand from his thick, pulsing cock, laying it against your stomach as he peers down in fascination. “i’ll be right here,” he hums, drawing a line on your skin right where his tip ends, “see that? that’s where you’ll feel me, sweetheart.”

“then let me feel you,” you murmur, cupping his cheeks and brushing a thumb over the skin, “fuck me, toru—wan’ it so bad.”

so he does—drags his tip along your folds and collects the slick pooling at your entrance before pushing his tip past your folds, splitting you in half as he slowly buries himself to the hilt. his jaw is clenched, breath labored as he waits for you to adjust, lets you kiss his cheeks and nose as you murmur how handsome he is, how perfect he feels, how good is to you.

“that asshole ever make you cum?” he asks lowly, “he ever eat your pussy like that? make you cum hard enough you had to cover your mouth so you’re not screaming his name?”

“no,” you breathe, quivering as his thumb rolls over your clit in slow circles, still painfully still as he stares down at you, “n-no, never. just you—only you—”

“good,” he grins, “that’s what i like to hear. and when i make you cum on my cock, make sure to tell me he’s never done that either, yeah?”

“you’re full of it,” you scoff, “always have been.”

“and you’re full of me,” he says cheekily, chuckling as you glare half-heartedly. “can i move, baby? please? need more, ‘s not enough. n-need more—”

“yeah,” you whimper, pulling him closer, chests brushing against each other as your lips meet in a sloppy kiss, “yeah—need more too, toru.”

satoru, in all his years of knowing you, has never seen the side of you that could be this gentle. the side that glides your hands over his back, feeling every flex and every pull of his muscles, gently caressing the skin like it’s holy, like it’s not worthy of marks—instead to be worshipped and revered with thoughtful touches. your lips sear into every part of him they can find—his lips, his forehead, his nose, his hair as his face digs into your neck. even your voice is a gentle whisper of his name, so soft and careful, it’s like saying it wrong could break him.

your hips buck up in tandem with his, meeting his rhythm as he slams into you, his balls slapping against your skin as he buries his cock into you as deep as it’ll go with every harsh thrust. you can feel his tip kissing against that sweet spot in the back of your walls, your abused cunt sucking him in and hugging around him as he groans.

the friction feels sickening, like he’ll pass out any second, like he’s floating between the precipice of pleasure and the edge of consciousness.

you do that to him—he doesn’t know how or when or why, but you make him feel like he doesn’t have a grip on his own senses. he doesn’t mind it so much, he thinks—doesn’t hate the idea of letting himself fall into your palm and wrap around him. it feels nicer that way, like it’s where he belongs.

“fuck, ‘s so tight,” he rasps, whining into your neck as your hand cups the back of his head, holding him in place. his hips are rutting into you sloppily now, barely maintaining the rhythm from before as he nears his high—but that doesn't stop him from angling into you perfectly, slamming into your sensitive spot every time without fail. “c-cum—’m gonna cum. cum with me, sweetheart.”

“‘m so close, toru,” you sob—and then, just as his thumb finds your clit again, rubbing harsh, desperate little circles to get you over the edge, you cum again—harder than the last time, spasming around his cock and pulling him in as you squeeze around him. “t-toru,” you gasp brokenly, “fuck, ‘s good—so good.”

“baby,” he moans lowly, “fuck, you’re so perfect. prettiest thing ever—prettiest pussy ever. i, sh-shit—” your orgasm quickly has him falling into his own, hot, thick ropes of cum spilling into you with every twitch of his cock, sweet little noises pulled from his throat that he sings into your neck, fucking his load into you.

it’s messy, the way cum spills out of you and coats his cock—but it’s perfect and feels so, so right. you can’t help but think how perfectly satoru fits against you as his body slumps on top of yours, panting and spent as he cages you in his arms.

your hand doesn’t leave his hair—now that you know how it feels, you don’t think you can stop threading your fingers through it, ever.

“wow, toothless,” he chuckles after a bit, “you’re seriously obsessed with me, huh? i mean, how long have you been nursing this crush on me, hmm? thinking about your brother’s best friend, you naughty little thing—”

“satoru, would you shut that mouth for once,” you hiss, rolling your eyes—still, there’s an affectionate grin on your lips this time as he chuckles into your skin.

“oh baby, i’m afraid this mouth never shuts, so you should get used—”

suddenly, you both freeze as you hear suguru’s voice through the door. “you two better not be fucking doing what i think you’re doing,” he seethes, making your jaw drop and satoru’s eyes widen.

fuck—that was never supposed to happen. suguru was never supposed to hear, let alone know.

“hey,” satoru starts, “if suguru kicks me out of our place, i can come be your new permanent housemate, right?”

do not comment about a part 2

but yeah he can come live with me any time and as long as he pays by sucking my tiddies i shall provide all food and utilities and everything

#teepods.writings #fics.#thirstee!#gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo smut #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk smut #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen smut

30K notes · View notes

hoshifighting · 1 month

Text

when you make seventeen cry in an argument WARNINGS: angst, lots of crying. a/n: just a question, why do u guys enjoy angst this much?

seungcheol he hates crying in front of you, hates feeling vulnerable. he’s the type to hold everything in, trying to stay strong for the both of you, even when the argument gets intense. but when the words cut too deep, when he feels like he’s failing you, you’ll see his eyes gloss over. he won’t let the tears fall right away; he’ll turn his head, rub the back of his neck, trying to keep it together. but when you keep pushing, maybe saying something that hits a little too close to home, his voice will crack. “i’m just trying to make this work,” he’ll say, and that’s when you know he’s really hurting.

jeonghan is the last person you’d expect to see cry during an argument. but he won’t cry unless he feels completely misunderstood. he can handle a lot, can take the back-and-forth of a heated argument, but when he feels like you don’t see him for who he is, that’s when the tears start to build. he quickly turns his head, not wanting you to see. “do you really think that about me?” when the tears come, they’re quiet, more like a silent plea for you to understand him. hates that you’re seeing him like this, but he can’t help it.

joshua tries so hard to stay composed during an argument. he’s the peacemaker, the one who wants to talk things out rationally, but when the argument drags on and you keep circling back to the same painful points, it wears him down. he’ll keep his tone calm, even when his heart is breaking “i don’t want to lose you over this,” he’ll say, his voice shaking as tears spill down his cheeks. it’s the thought of losing you that makes him break.

junhui is a bit of a mystery when it comes to his emotions tbh. he’ll stay quiet during most arguments, letting you vent, but when he starts to feel like he’s being taken for granted or misinterpreted, that’s when the tears threaten to spill. he’ll bite his lip, trying to keep it together, but when you push just a little too hard, he’ll crack. “why do you think i don’t care?” it’s not that he’s weak; it’s that he cares too much.

soonyoung is passionate in everything he does, and that includes arguing. he’ll fight hard, push his point, but he’s also quick to feel the weight of the argument. he cries when he feels misunderstood, when he feels like no matter what he says, it’s not getting through. the tears come when the frustration boils over, when he feels like he’s failing to communicate how much he cares. “why can’t we just talk this out…,” he’ll say, his voice breaking as the tears start to fall, showing just how much he’s been holding in.

wonwoo is the type to hold everything in until he can’t anymore. he’ll stay quiet during an argument, letting you say what you need to say, but when he feels like you’re not hearing him, not seeing him, that’s when the tears start to build. he won’t cry easily; it takes a lot to get him to that point, but when he does, it’s heartbreaking. “i just want you to understand!”

woozi is tough, or at least he tries to be. he doesn’t like showing weakness, especially during an argument. he’ll try to fight it, to keep going, but his voice will start to crack. “why do you have to say it like that?” he’ll ask, and you’ll see the tears welling up in his eyes. he won’t let them fall right away; he’ll try to brush it off, to focus on the argument, but eventually, he’ll have to turn away, wiping at his eyes with the back of his hand, hating that he’s crying but unable to stop.

minghao is usually the one trying to keep things calm, trying to deescalate the argument before it gets too heated. he’s not quick to cry, but when he does, it’s because the fight has gone too far. when the tears start, he can’t stop them. they come silently, slipping down his cheeks as he takes a deep breath, trying to steady himself. “this isn’t what i wanted,” he says, voice trembling. he hates that it’s come to this, hates that he’s crying in the middle of a fight.

mingyu is sensitive, and that sensitivity often makes him emotional during arguments. he tries to keep it together, tries to stay strong, but it doesn’t take much to push him to the point of tears. it’s when the fight gets too intense, when it feels like you’re pulling away from him, that he starts to break down. he doesn’t try to hide it, doesn’t try to stop the tears from falling—he just lets them come, his shoulders shaking as he sobs. the fear that this fight could be the end of something he cares so deeply about.

seokmin always try to avoid conflict whenever possible. but when the argument gets serious, he can’t help but cry. just the sight of you upset, the sound of your voice cracking under the weight of the fight, and his own tears start to flow. he’s not good at hiding it, not good at keeping his emotions in bottled, so when he starts crying, and it’s hard for him to stop.

seungkwan wears his heart on his sleeve, and that makes him quick to cry during arguments. he’s not ashamed of it, not afraid to show his emotions, but that doesn’t make it any easier when the tears start to fall. he tries to keep talking, tries to work through the argument, but his voice breaks, and suddenly he’s crying, his shoulders vibrating, and he can’t hold it back once it starts.

vernon is usually pretty laid-back, but when something really matters to him, he’ll fight for it. he doesn’t cry easily, but when it feels like it’s breaking something between you two, it hits him hard. the tears come when he feels like he’s losing you, like the fight is pushing you further apart, and then the tears will come, slow at first but then all at once. he’ll hate that he’s crying, hate that he’s showing this side of himself.

chan is still figuring things out, still learning how to navigate arguments and everything. he is sensitive, but he’s not quick to cry during an argument. but there’s a limit to how much he can take. when he feels a lump form in his throat. he tries to push it down, tries to keep his voice steady, but when he sees the pain in your expression, it’s too much. his eyes well up, and he has to pause, taking a deep breath to keep from breaking down completely. he can't understand.

1K notes · View notes

ba9go · 26 days

Text

bakugou katsuki finds you annoying (he has a soft spot for you) pt. 2

sort-of enemies to lovers with bakugou!! bakugou being avoidant bc he’s bad at feelings. he’s a little shit in this one but he makes it up to the reader!! liiiiiight angst/comfort.

pls read part 1 before 🧡 part 3 (nsfw)

the more you interact with bakugou, the more you’re baffled by the insults he comes up with.

you bump into him in the corridor, and the two of you are completely alone so it’s impossible for you to pretend you haven’t seen him, so you wave awkwardly at him.

“hey, bakug—”

“fuck off, rabbitface.”

bakugou brushes past you as he walks by, leaving you gaping at him in complete horror. “my ears are not that long!”

“cry about it, maybe your nose will twitch too!” bakugou responds without looking back at you, and you find yourself holding your nose on the rest of your way back to your room. it does not twitch one bit.

the day of the midterm exams, you’re full of jitters, standing outside the classroom and flipping through your notes frantically for some last minute revision.

“nervous?” you look up to see bakugou standing in front of you, smirking down at you with his arms crossed.

“yeah,” you admit sheepishly. “i don’t wanna fuck this up.”

“don’t be stupid. you studied, didn’t you?” bakugou’s smirk drops and he raises an eyebrow at you. you nod, and he clicks his tongue at you. “only thing stopping you now is you, then.” bakugou pokes the side of your head twice, roughly but not hard enough to actually hurt. it catches you by surprise, and it happens so fast that by the time his hand drops back to his side, you’re not sure it even happened.

“better not fuck it up, buttercup.”

as bakugou walks away from you, you’re still feeling frazzled, just not for the test anymore.

by this point, you’ve given up on asking mina and the rest for advice. they’re all convinced of the same thing — that bakugou somehow has a soft spot for you. you don’t believe it.

some days, bakugou looks a little less murderously at you, and you think that maybe, just maybe, he doesn’t completely hate your guts, but other days, he completely brushes past you like you’re invisible and you feel like a fool for ever hoping that maybe the two of you could be friends.

but then bakugou starts ignoring you more and more, and you start to wonder if he actually hates you.

you run into bakugou on the way to the gym, and you grab his sleeve before you can even stop to think twice. “bakugou, you good?”

“hah?!” bakugou recoils away from you and looks at you like he’s repulsed by your touch. “fuck do you want, extra?”

extra. you’ve noticed that bakugou’s started calling you that a lot more often recently. you’ve heard him say it before, but not to you. was that all you meant to him now? when did that happen? what changed?

“what do you want? did i piss you off or something? why are you being so—”

“i’ve always been like this,” bakugou hisses at you, and you don’t think you’ve seen bakugou this angry at you before. “and you’ve always pissed me the fuck off. so just fuck off already, would ya?”

bakugou stomps away like godzilla after a rampage, and you’re the tokyo that he’s completely ravaged.

soft spot, my ass.

for the next two weeks, you listen to bakugou. you stay out of his way, you don’t even try to meet his gaze when you walk into class or when you walk past him in the hallways. ignoring him didn’t feel natural to you, but every time you saw bakugou, you reminded yourself that you were just another extra. you’d get used to not talking to bakugou eventually.

the others picked up on this change as well. kaminari casually asked if bakugou had come up with any “interesting, new” names for you, to which you had responded, “haven’t spoken to him in a while, but he did call me an “extra” the last time.”

“extra?” kaminari repeated slowly, raising his brows. “he called you an extra? that’s low. especially since it’s you.” you shrug, and kaminari frowns. “have you talked to kirishima about it? i’m stupid but i don’t speak caveman like bakugou does. kiri’s our best bet at deciphering him.”

you decline kaminari’s suggestion, insisting that it was no big deal, but it seemed kaminari went ahead and told kirishima anyway, because “bro code”.

(1) new message from red riot:

red riot: hey, sorry about bakugou, he’s been a real asshole to you lately

you: hey kiri!!! pls don’t apologise

you: how do u even know lol? kaminari?

red riot: ding ding ding

you: 👎

red riot: sorry… bro code

red riot: i beat some sense into him dw

you: poor kami

red riot: oh no i meant bakugou

you: what

red riot: (👍ᐛ )👍

turns out, your conversation with kaminari had completely set off a chain reaction that you absolutely could not stop, with kirishima (bless his heart) confronting bakugou himself.

you: what

you: u mean u just went over and kicked his ass?

red riot: yup!

red riot: well i guess we took turns

you: ????

red riot: like i got two punches in and he got two punches in and we talked and then we called it a day

you: ???????????????

red riot: (👍ᐛ )👍

you don’t dare to ask kirishima for the details of what exactly happened during their brawl, and you don’t know how you’re ever going to face bakugou ever again. the thought of running into bakugou legitimately scares you, so you decide to hole yourself in your room for the rest of the evening, just to be safe.

well, you thought you were safe, until…

(1) new message from Unknown Number:

Unknown Number: It’s Bakugou.

Unknown Number: I need to talk to you.

Unknown Number: You in your room?

you: no (👍ᐛ )👍

Unknown Number: Yeah right

Unknown Number: I’m at the door.

you’re filled with equal parts dread and fear as you shuffle over to the door reluctantly. you peek through the peephole to see bakugou standing there with a plastic bag in his hand.

you open the door hesitantly.

“you look like shit,” bakugou says, and it sounds so familiar and so right, you almost burst out laughing despite the context of the situation. despite yourself, you can’t help the small smile that forms on your lips.

“here.” before you can say anything, bakugou’s grabbing your wrist and handing you the plastic bag. it smells like food so you think its takeout, but you look inside and see that it has a little plastic bento box and metal chopsticks.

“is this your way of apologising?” you grin cheekily, hoping to get some kind of reaction out of him, but bakugou stares back at you unflinchingly.

“yeah,” bakugou says. “is it working?”

‘it worked,’ bakugou thinks as he lets you fling your arms around his neck and pull him into a hug.

“it’s working,” you mumbled into his shoulder, and you feel two large hands grip around your waist.

extras:

(👍ᐛ )👍 is so kiri-coded i love it

(👍ᐛ )👍

kirishima was pissed after kaminari told him what happened between you and bakugou

he walked over to bakugou’s room all prepared with ice packs and shit

knocked twice, waited for bakugou to open the door, threw two punches

bakugou was confused asf but it pissed him off so punched kiri right back out of reflex

the fight stops then and there, kirishima hands bakugou the ice pack, and they both sit on his bed to talk

both are just holding ice packs to their cheeks

kirishima tells bakugou that it was unmanly of him to be mean to you when you did nothing but try to be nice to him

bakugou just listens quietly, he doesn’t really say much, doesn’t really know what to do to fix the situation

like he already knew that he fucked up before kirishima came to rock his shit

but kirishima is a true bro and he gives bakugou advice on how to make things up to you

(👍ᐛ )👍

taglist (thank you for your support!!): @anicaaa67 @maddietries @valeriyaaak @v3n7s @deimosjay @zaiban2989 @girls-overflower @notmeduhh @dreamcastgirl99 @busdriver-move-that-ass @atashiboba @kathsuhki @armeenix @channnee @antiwhores @sukunasbottomlefteyeball @kenqki @vikizzy @thesimpybitch @eempxth @hanta-seros-wifey @itztaki @thekidscallmebosss

746 notes · View notes

wordsinhaled · 2 months

Text

thinking about payneland from the perspective of a pining charles having fallen first the night they met in the attic is wild because like

he meets this boy who is incredibly soft and kind to him, comforts him, protects him from being scared as he’s dying

and everything’s a bit hazy anyway and you know, why not, why not, why not. so charles is all, “i think i’d miss kissing. do you miss kissing? 👀”

genius really. except edwin is like, no

so charles is like ok, never mind, no worries, fine. just misjudged it a bit, didn’t i. not to worry. still, i really like spending time with you, let’s stay together forever, yeah?

he dedicates himself to being the best friend edwin could possibly ask for. edwin doesn’t seem interested in anyone in any way, really. maybe edwin’s just like, above all of those things. or doesn’t care for them. that happens! charles gets it! anyway edwin’s only the best person anyone could even imagine spending an afterlife with, so it doesn’t much matter

and for thirty years it really doesn’t matter, except in tiny moments when charles maybe lets a little too much adoration bleed into the looks he gives edwin, which is fine because edwin is giving him the same type of looks back and it doesn’t have to be anything, it’s just how they are. and if he sometimes has to shake himself to keep from staring at edwin’s bare forearms when they’re relaxing in the office, well. that’s not for edwin to worry about. it doesn’t matter what kind of love it is, charles feels them all for edwin and he knows edwin loves him too

but then they go to port fucking townsend

and suddenly it’s very clear edwin is capable of those types of feelings. of being flustered and lost in daydreams and shy around someone the way you are when you’re interested. edwin is doing all of those things - and it’s not directed at charles. it’s directed at monty. at the cat king

not that he should have presumed. after all edwin can and should go on and like anyone he wants. it’s his right and edwin certainly deserves his chance at happiness, after everything he’s been through. but there had been this tiny, tiny part of charles that had always thought “if edwin ever did have those types of feelings, they would be for me”

and all of a sudden it’s like. all of charles’ pining could actually come to fruition, except it won’t because edwin has somehow chosen monty and his astrology books. because some whiskery tosser has gotten his claws into edwin and much as charles postures he won’t dare actually pry them out because he doesn’t want to interfere in edwin’s fulfillment

charles is right here, has been right here for three decades - being content for the most part, except in fleeting moments when it got to him. and it would be fine if edwin simply chose someone else - natural even - but the part scrambling charles’ brain is that it feels like edwin hasn’t even considered him. never mind that charles has got an entire elaborate plan for how he’d court edwin if edwin ever gave a singular sign that he welcomed it. but instead edwin has chosen this time to wake up to his feelings and entirely overlook charles as a romantic prospect

charles is not going to be a miserable arse about it. he’s going to be supportive. he’s going to be nice to bloody monty because monty has apparently unearthed feelings in edwin. feelings edwin deserves to have. and if he’s honest, he has to give the lad some credit for managing to find a side of edwin charles has yearned quietly for for three decades in a matter of weeks - just by being forward with edwin in a way charles wouldn’t dream of trying

anyway imagine charles’ utter confusion and disbelief when edwin is all, “actually it is not monty i am in love with at all, but you, charles”

and charles is just like, “but i thought you and him were…? you said… i mean—you don’t even notice me that way!”

“i must assure you i do.”

and then he gets to have a kiss that he has waited for and hardly let himself want properly for thirty years

like……. PINING CHARLES, MY FRIENDS

#dbda #dead boy detectives #dead boy detective agency #payneland #charles rowland

711 notes · View notes

sabertoothwalrus · 7 months

Text

here are some preliminary sketches I had done in my sketchbook for the peepaw chilchuck comic.

I wanted to follow it up with some worldbuilding thoughts I had while working on it, if that sort of thing is interesting to anyone:

- it’d take place 5ish years post-canon

- I changed almost everyone’s hair to show time had passed. Chilchuck and Kabru were the most drastic (I COULDNT STOP THINKING ABOUT THAT LONG HAIR KABRU THAT KUI DREW), Marcille grew out her bangs, Senshi’s beard is slightly shorter, and Izutsumi’s hair is mildly longer. Laios and Falin give me the impression that they’re the brand of neurodivergent that’d pick one haircut and stick to it for the rest of their lives. I almost gave Laios facial hair but idk he’s gotten over his daddy issue enough for that.

- Emertim Chils: I tried to follow both the half-foot and dwarven naming conventions for the baby, so Emer- comes from “emerald” (dwarven names are often gemstones or ore) and -tim because Chilchuck’s father’s first name was Tim :) Dwarves don’t have family names, so Emertim would take Chils, same as Flertom. Usually they’re named after their father but I didn’t wanna name a random dwarf man. thank you Chel for helping name him 🫶💕

- Initially the idea that Chilchuck would keep an entire grandchild a secret was just a joke, but it made sense when I thought about it. I wonder,, would dwarf/half-foot couples have trouble conceiving? Because if so, I’d imagine Flertom may have lost a couple pregnancies. Chilchuck is already such a private person, and I don’t think he’d feel comfortable airing his daughter’s grief like that. They wouldn’t wanna tell anyone until they were sure this baby was gonna make it.

- For the above reason, Chilchuck would absolutely spoil this kid. Not that he wouldn’t have spoiled his grandkids anyway, but I think after all that stress, he’d be extra extra doting. He’d be letting him do things he’d never DREAM of letting his own daughters do. Completely different parenting style.

- I think he’s still too prideful to take advantage of Laios being King (sidenote: is Laios even wealthy??? does a kingdom that sprung up from a previously-sunken continent even have money?? what the fuck is their economy), but like,,, if Laios offered any gifts he wouldn’t exactly say no.

- Izutsumi surprisingly really likes the baby :3 she’d like to take naps with him and he’d like her purrs and she’d have a lot of fun playing with him.

- SENSHI. meemaw mode. That kid would grow up not realizing Senshi isn’t technically one of his grandads. He is FEEEEEDING this kid.

- LAIOS DOES GET TO HOLD THE BABY!!!!!! just. eventually. They don’t actually expect a Tarrare situation LMAO they just wait until the kid is a little less fragile and a little more mobile. I think Laios would be really good with toddlers.

- Chilchuck is very thankful Emertim’s half-foot genes kick in sooner than later because he was getting too big for him to carry.

- Emertim would probably get the extended lifespan. He and Marcille would get to stay friends for a very very long time :’)

- my personal headcanon is that Chilchuck and his wife decide to split. He still loves her and it’s probably still a bit mutual, but after four years of almost no-contact, they decide their communication issues aren’t working well for their relationship. Plus, the Adventurer’s Bible says Chilchuck is renting their old house out to family, and he’d feel bad kicking them out so he and wife could move back in. They’d still be on good terms, and would be good at coordinating when to babysit.

#do yall like this sort of post…?#my art #dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon #dungeon meshi spoilers #chilchuck tims

2K notes · View notes

stevieschrodinger · 3 months

Text

Part One Two

Fish guy is actually pretty much the same height as Steve when they’re sitting next to each other on the edge of the pool. Steve finally gave in, the heat of the day getting too much, and is trailing his feet in the water – fish guy doesn’t seem to care, but Steve still made sure to shower before he came out here. Next to Steve’s feet, the flat point of fish guys tail is also swirling in the water.

Fish guy loves pears. Steve’s sure they’re his new absolute favorite thing, and Steve’s watched him demolish six, cores and stalks and all, one right after the other.

He’s licking sticky juice from his fingers. Steve can’t see his eyes behind the shades; but he’s certain fish guy is watching him. Probably waiting to see if Steve will produce more food; fish guy has developed a hearty appetite, and he hasn’t put on much weight yet, but he’s not exactly what Steve would call emaciated either. A little over a week of regular food is obviously helping.

“Okay,” Steve sips on his beer, the points to himself, “Steve.”

“Steeee,” fish guy readily replies, nodding. Steve has no idea how or when he picked up the nodding and head shaking, but he uses both correctly, as far as Steve can tell, so Steve doesn’t argue.

Steve points at fish guy. Nothing, then a curious head tilt.

Steve’s starting to come to the conclusion that maybe fish guy just doesn’t have a name. Which, okay, Steve can kind of see that. He vaguely wonders if fish guy has any family; if he’d even want to go back to the Upside Down.

“Right. Should probably name you something vaguely fish related, no? Should we stay on brand?” Fish guy cocks his head the other way, like a bird. They’ve been sat here long enough that the sun has started to dry the ropey mess of hair that fish guy has; it gone kind of curly now, pinging up as it dries.

Steve really wants to comb it out, but he has no idea how fish guy will react; they’ve only just made it to sitting next to each other. Steve’s vaguely aware that combing someone else's hair is a bit...familiar, but he figures fish guy is kind of in his care or whatever.

Maybe they could build up to it.

“Fish,” Steve muses vaguely to himself, “fishing? Scales? Tails? Fishing, fisher? Fisher, Eddie, Eddie Fisher, that singer guy Mom really likes. What do you think, how does Eddie sound? Good as anything, right?”

Steve has no idea what’s going on behind the sunglasses, but fish guys head keeps cocking curiously to the side. Steve points to himself, “Steve.”

Fish guy, replies, “Steeee,” as expected, nodding.

Steve points to fish guy, and says, “Eddie.”

Fish guy points to himself cautiously, and quietly volunteers, “Edidie?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Steve says, nodding, “near enough, man. Eddie. Sounds good.”

“Good,” Eddie replies, startling Steve a bit because it’s clear as a bell.

“That’s right, good. Eddie.”

Eddie, very slowly so Steve can clearly see what he’s doing, reaches for Steve’s beer bottle. Steve’s instinct is to take it away, what if it’s poisonous or something? But then he figures Eddie’s been pretty clear about rejecting stuff so far if he doesn’t want it; plus he lived in the Upside Down for, presumably, years. If he can survive in a toxic environment like that, then surely a sip of beer won’t hurt him.

Eddie’s funny as he lifts it, sniffing cautiously before he works out the mechanics of fitting his lips around the neck of the bottle. He drinks. Seems to ponder it for a moment, and then drinks again, giving the bottle a mournful little shake when he realizes it’s empty. There wasn’t much left anyway; Steve figures he’ll be okay.

“Good,” Eddie says as he hands the bottle back, “inied.”

“Yeah,” Steve says, “finished.”

“Why do you think he doesn’t have any gills?”

“You are definitely asking the wrong person here Robs,” Steve scatters another handful of peas into the water, watching as Eddie bobs along, collecting them one at a time and popping them into his mouth, “ask Dustin. He’ll produce a book. There’s literally always a book.”

“I don’t want to ask Dustin, he’ll actually try and explain it to me...I’d rather speculate emptily.”

“You do love a bit of empty speculation.”

Robin nods in agreement, “so, no gills, what do you think?”

“I think…” Steve ponders for a few seconds, filling up the dog bowl with the rest of the peas and floating that on the water, “that he can’t actually breathe underwater. He can just hold his breath for a fucking long time.”

“Nah. Boring. Plausible. Logical. Could be correct. I need something wild Steven.”

Steve thinks, but he doesn’t have much of an imagination, not like the kids or Robin. Clever people have good imaginations; Steve’s not one of them. But he does remember hearing something about bugs one time, “he breathes through his skin.”

“Fucking rad.”

“You have been spending way too much time with Argyle.”

“He has the good stuff Steve, supply and demand,” she says shrugging, and then, “why, you jealous?”

Steve huffs, rolling his eyes. Because no, of course he isn’t. Much. Maybe a tiny bit. But that’s okay, Robin should have other friends and stuff he guesses. She pokes him in the ribs and he flaps at her.

It just encourages her, obviously, so he tries to ignore her which just makes her ten times worse. She pokes more, and she just knows him too well, goes for his ticklish ribs and before Steve knows what’s happening he’s on his side, trying to curl up to get away, begging for mercy and shrieking with laughter, Robin hollering “admit your jealousy Steven. Say uncle! Say iiiiiiiiiit!!”

Robin disappears suddenly with a splash and yelp. She scrambles on the grass, trying to right herself from where she was shoved, Eddie suddenly flopped half on top of Steve, his tail twisting around Steve’s middle. Robin scrambles back a few more paces, Eddie’s arms locked at the elbow to hold his torso up off the ground as far as he can, claws raking into the grass.

He’s completely silent, and Steve, shocked, just sits for a moment, looking at the back of Eddie’s soaking head. The water’s dripping from his hair in rivulets down his pale back, his shoulder blades standing out sharply, the knobs of his spine visible where his back is held in a sharp arch.

He’s puffed up like an angry cat, Steve thinks absently.

He makes eye contact with Robin over Eddie’s shoulder, and she raises her eyebrows just a teeny tiny bit, ‘what the fuck?’

Steve shrugs, ‘I don’t know.’ Then tilts his head to the house a little, ‘give us a minute.’

Robin frowns spectacularly, ‘I’m not leaving you alone with the crazy fish guy’ or words to that effect, Steve guesses.

He nods toward the house again, trying to give his best, ‘I’ll be fine,’ vibes.

She looks hugely doubtful, but does move away, all slow and careful. Eddie hand walks to keep himself between between Steve and Robin, his tail clenching around Steve as he does.

“Eddie,” Steve’s hand hovers in the air for a few seconds before he bites the bullet and lets his hand rest on Eddie’s tail. It’s surprisingly smooth. Not soft exactly, but not hard. Doesn’t even feel scaly really, just smooth and warm it doesn’t look scaly either, now that Steve can have a close up look. It’s just...black. Matt black.

Actually now that he’s here, there are some funny little slits toward the tippy bit, they kind of look like they could be openings, but he doesn’t have time to investigate because Robin’s gone, so Eddie turns to him.

Steve has no clue what to say as Eddie’s tail slowly unwraps from his middle, “Eddie,” he starts, as Eddie slips back into the water.

“Steee.”

Steve just sighs, retrieving what are now Eddie’s sunglasses from where they’ve fallen by the edge of the lawn, “what am I going to do with you?”

Eddie tips his head, listening, but Steve doesn’t have anything else to say. At a loss, he heads inside to make sure Robin is okay.

A/N I know the time line doesn't work with Argyle since this happened after starcourt but lets just all agree to ignore that. There is no tag list for this work.

Part Four

#eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #steddie #ficlet #ao3 author #pre steddie #mermeddie #mermaid eddie #upside down creature eddie

939 notes · View notes

soobnny · 2 months

Text

dating him | han jisung

❝ you found my heart broken and you helped me make it whole again ❞

i think you’re a second love type situation for han jisung

the one where he thought he’d never recover from his first heartbreak

but then here u come

i think han’s the type of person to feel everything

if he’s in love, he’s in LOVE

and if he’s hurt, it would just be overwhelming pain

so imagine how he was when he got his first heartbreak

he’d lose a little bit of his spark

maybe keep to himself even more than he used to

u come to his life in the form of a friend first

and han has unknowingly planted a seed that’s grown and grown and grown

with every interaction

with every laugh you’ve brought back

with every moment he was coming out of his shell again

until it’s fully bloomed into a love that’s very very real and very very present

han jisung would also love so beautifully

he knows what it’s like to be hurt, and he doesn’t ever want u to feel that same pain

he rly makes efforts

he is FULL of efforts

and he makes u laugh ☹️☹️☹️☹️

he communicates

and when the boys finally meet u, they’re very grateful but also

????!!!! why do u they know ur favorite color

and ur go-to order at the cafe

and the hoodie u like to steal from jisung the most

well turns out, han loves talking about u to his friends

they just know everything about u before even meeting u

he’d get rly shy about it but never embarrassed

he’d tell the whole world about u if he could

what else can i tell u

han jisung is just someone where nothing sounds crazy to him

so i think all ur dates with him would be so fun and adventurous lowk

amusement parks !!!!!

ice skating and roller blading

both of u would fall on ur ass

but you’d also laugh so much and somehow that makes up for everything

you’d be holding hands and skating with each other and looking at each other with lovesick smiles

I FEEL SICK!!!!!!!!

he’s always trying to impress u too

he tries to imitate figure skaters

kids don’t try this at home

ofc he fails miserably

obvious blushes when you’d tell him he was cute for trying

or when you’d praise him

anyways when i said he’s always trying to impress u i mean ALWAYS

he treats the relationship like he’s still pining after you

being the standard fr

he never lets go of the love

sometimes he’d still get shy to ask u out

somehow he doesn’t believe u actually said yes to him

he thinks he’s the luckiest boy

anyways, aside from adventurous dates, he equally values his inside time and quieter dates

he’s thankful u understand his shifts in his energy

on days u stay inside, you’d probably watch horror movies

look…. he suggests it….

it looked cool in his head to be all protective

you’d hold onto his arm when the jumpscares come

but

womp womp

he ends up being more afraid than u

and now HE’S holding ur arm

yeah it looked way cooler in his head

you’d play silly little board games together

or maybe charades

he’s so easily amused by sexual innuendos

he’s just a man guys

anyways

there are two things he loves to steal from u the most

aside from ur kisses

and it’s (1) ur perfume and (2) ur lip balm

u’d catch him putting on ur perfume just bc he wants to be surrounded by ur scent

it’s very comforting

one time, he was sick and the boys were taking care of him

and when u finally had time to take over and care for ur bf

u just …. smell ur perfume

“did you put on my perfume?”

“i missed you ☹️☹️☹️☹️”

DOWN BADDDDD

he’s so pouty and so cute

let’s suffocate him with the pillow

KIDDINGGGGGG KIDDING

and then ur lip balm

sometimes he steals the actual thing

sometimes he kisses you so he can have it on his lips too

han jisung is also the type to avail every possible couple coupon

and he’s always begging the cashiers to let u prove u’re a couple

it’s so he has an excuse to kiss you

months into dating him also means a thousand love letters

he loves writing u love letters

and u know sooner that he also writes songs

on ur anniversary, he reveals a song he’s written for you

and when he proposes, he tells u about every single one he’d ever written about you and for you

wish that were me 😂😂😂😂😂

TAKE CARE OF HIM

note. credits to user @.luvknow for the layout of this post! let me know what you think! please discuss these with me i’m crazy

700 notes · View notes

steddiealltheway · 9 months

Text

Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays :) This is way longer than I thought it would be, but it's been a while since I've written, so I think I needed it. I hope you all have a wonderful end to your year <3

Steve thought it was fate when he reached into Dustin’s old Santa hat and picked up a crumpled piece of paper with Eddie’s name scribbled on it. He had a gift stored away for Eddie that he bought weeks ago, and he was hoping there would be some way to get it to him without making it a big deal or something. Miraculously, the tiny slip of paper gave him that chance.

Now, two weeks later, Steve feels like his nerves are on fire as everyone gathers around in his living room, waiting to receive their gifts.

He goes off to the guest bedroom where the party had dropped off their gifts under the bed with the promise of not peaking - per Steve's request. Mike complained that the system was a little bit much, and Steve couldn’t argue with him. He just didn’t want to give away that he was Eddie’s secret Santa.

And now that he has pulled all the gifts out from under the bed, his stomach churns and his heart races. He just hopes his gift doesn’t cross a line or bring up unwanted memories, especially since he and Eddie aren’t exactly best friends.

Well, okay, they’re close. Considering the number of times Dustin has insisted they all hang out now that they’ve all been trauma-bonded, Steve has spent a lot of time with Eddie. But he hasn’t gotten a lot of alone time with him.

Sure, there have been a few times when Eddie has stopped by work, but Robin was always close by - not that Steve minded at all, except he got tired of the looks she would give him after Eddie left as if she was expecting Steve to say something. He doesn’t know what exactly he would say, but he will admit that it was always sad watching Eddie go. Maybe he should tell Robin he wishes he could stay a little longer, maybe even after hours.

The thought reminds him of the one moment they spent alone that Steve can't help but recall often. Even his present to Eddie is based around that moment which resulted in him purchasing something definitely higher than the price limit, but none of the kids would know that so it’s fine.

There’s a light knock on the door behind him, and Steve turns around. “Hey,” Eddie says with a small smile. “Everything okay?”

Steve smiles back, willing his heartbeat to slow down a bit. “Yeah, just trying to figure out how to get them all at once.”

“Let me help,” Eddie says, already bending over to grab half the stack that Steve had pushed out from under the bed. “You don’t happen to have a Santa suit do you?”

Steve’s eyebrows furrow. “No?”

“Damn. Next year, okay? And I want to be Santa.”

The corner of Steve’s lip quirks up and Eddie's eyes light up, looking awfully proud of himself. The two hold the gaze for a few moments longer than they should, but it’s not like that's new to them.

“Guys! What’s the holdup?!” Dustin yells.

Steve sighs and offers Eddie a now irritated smile before leading the way to the living room, glancing down at the names on each present before handing them out. He and Eddie finish around the same time, and Steve notices there are two clear spots for them in the small circle on either side of Dustin. He almost makes a snarky comment to Dustin, but he holds his tongue, knowing Max and El will shoot them irritated glares if they start bickering.

"El, why don't you go first?" Steve suggests as he sits down, not giving the rest of the kids a chance to argue about it. After all, no one is going to protest after all that El did for them.

El smiles and carefully opens her gift, but Steve spaces out a bit, lost in thought about his gift and questioning if it will be an appropriate thing to bring up in front of the kids. Eddie had shared the moment only with Steve and even hesitated in doing so, so maybe he doesn't want it to be broadcast to the kids. Shit.

Steve snaps back to reality when El knee-scoots over to Dustin, pulling him into a tight hug and thanking him for her present. Dustin flushes an interesting shade of red that Steve is definitely going to bring up later when he himself isn't panicking. For now, he moves the game along. "Alright, Dustin gets to open his gift now since he was the Secret Santa," Steve announces, nervously glancing at Eddie, hoping the excited look doesn't mean the gift is from him. He's not sure if he's ready for Eddie to open his gift yet.

Luckily, the gift is from Lucas, and Steve breathes a sigh of relief. But as the game continues and more people unwrap their gifts, Steve finds himself getting a bit impatient as he waits for someone to get their gift from Eddie. It's only when Max is last to open her gift that Steve realizes that he and Eddie are the only two remaining which means...

"No way," Eddie says with a big grin. "We're the only two who got each other."

Steve slowly looks down at the gift in his hand, neatly wrapped with a beautifully done bow that seems so unlike Eddie who always seems to be in a rush, doing everything with an almost frantic energy that Steve kind of adores. He wonders what he must've been like sitting still, carefully folding each curve of newspaper and taping it all together before neatly tying the red ribbon around the box into a beautiful bow. "You did this?" Steve can't help but ask, hoping he didn't just stick his foot in his mouth.

"Yeah," Eddie says somewhat bashfully as he pulls his hair in front of his face. "You do the honors." Eddie gestures to Steve's present and nervously rambles, "It isn't much really..."

Steve carefully undoes each fold, seeing the care Eddie took in wrapping a small box that Steve pulls the lid off of. He stares down at a small metal-looking thing and picks it up off the paper it's on top of. He presses it and startles a bit as it buzzes.

"A hand buzzer," Dustin laughs in disbelief.

"Maybe you two need to hang out more," El suggests innocently.

Eddie clears his throat. "There's a note in there, too, but you don't have to read it out loud in front of the kids or anything."

Steve keeps ahold of the little buzzer and picks up the note, staring at a few numbers in confusion before following an arrow that elaborates 24/7 Walkie Channel - especially at night. Steve flushes a bit red at the joke, but as he reads further, he realizes it's not a joke at all. In fact, he knows exactly what this is referring to.

-:-:-:-:-:-

Eddie walks up to the counter of Family Video and raps his knuckles on the counter. "Now tell me, what exactly is behind that restricted section with the red curtains?"

Steve rubs his temples and gives Eddie an unimpressed look. "You know exactly what's behind there."

"Well, maybe I want to hear it from my favorite employee. After all, you're supposed to help me with all my needs."

"Alright," Robin announces loudly, "I'm taking my break."

Steve hears the break room door shut behind him, and he drops his head in his hands with a slight groan.

"That embarrassed, Harrington? I thought you were like the expert here. Especially since Robin isn't allowed back there, but..." Eddie trails off but suddenly his voice gets much closer yet softer. "Hey, sorry. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. Sometimes I push too far without realizing and-"

Steve cuts him off with a short wave of his hand. "It's not that. You're fine really. Just didn't really sleep last night."

"Company or..." Eddie goes for a joke to lighten the second half of what he's implying.

Steve sighs and glances up at him. "It the 'or' option."

Eddie gives him a sympathetic look and glances around at the empty store before leaning on the counter, right into Steve's space, but it's comforting rather than intrusive. Eddie softly says, "I get it, man. The night terrors are... they're intense. I still see Chrissy when she..." He looks away, swallows hard, and takes a deep breath. "I get it."

Steve glances up and sees a matching haunted look in Eddie's eyes that Steve catches in the mirror from time to time. "It's harder late at night. I get this urge to reach out to everyone and make sure they're okay and..." Steve sighs and lowers his voice, "still alive." He shudders slightly and laughs humorlessly, "But it's not like I can just call everyone's house at night and wake up them and their family. I usually just wait for the urge to pass but it's harder for me with some people." Steve swallows hard, knowing what Eddie will ask next.

"Like who?"

Steve glances up at Eddie and says, "Robin of course because she's my best friend. Max is tough too because of how close she was to dying and you just never know if that thing will come back or not."

"He's gone for good this time. You know what Owens said," Eddie presses gently.

"Yeah, but I've heard it before," Steve argues. But he can't deny that things definitely feel more final now. Like maybe they're finally over. Still, he can't just let his guard down on the off chance that his gut isn't right for once.

Eddie shifts and nudges Steve's elbow with his own. "Anyone else though?"

Steve holds Eddie's gaze for a moment, and he sees the exact moment Eddie knows exactly what he's thinking as the memories of Eddie's lifeless body in Steve's arms flood in his head. "You were... gone there for a little while. And sometimes I wake up, and I think that you didn't make it. That the nightmare I keep having is actually reality."

Eddie gives him a pained look and places his hand over Steve's. "You can call me at any time. Day or night. I'll try my best to answer, especially at night."

"Eddie, I don't want to make you lose sleep any more than you already are."

"But I'm probably already awake. And I don't care if I lose sleep for you, okay?"

Steve glances up at him and flushes a bit as his eyes flicker down to Eddie's lips. For a moment, he thinks he might understand what Robin's looks mean, but he glances away before he can truly think about it. "That's not the only problem though," Steve confesses quietly.

Eddie just squeezes his hand, waiting for him to elaborate.

With a deep breath, Steve hooks his thumb on top of Eddie's pinky and squeezes back for some support. "I hate speaking in that empty house. My voice seems to echo, and it makes me feel more alone than I already am. And sometimes it feels impossible to speak about things. Like my voice doesn't work or something. I don't know."

"I get it," Eddie says simply, squeezing his hand again. "But really, if you ever need to call or stop by or anything. I'll be there." Steve holds Eddie's gaze, thinking maybe the upcoming night won't be so bad.

Before Steve can really say anything else, the bell on the front door dings loudly and he and Eddie practically jump apart. The customer doesn't even so much as glance at them, but they both still keep their distance, recognizing that the moment is over.

-:-:-:-:-:-

Steve stares at the little list in the note.

One Buzz: Checking in. I will buzz back so you know I'm okay. Two Buzzes: If you need to hear my voice. I will respond over the walkie and talk for as long as you like. Buzz multiple times, and I'll stop. And trust me, I will talk your ear off, so I won't get offended when you buzz. Three Buzzes: If you need me to call ever. Don't be afraid to use this one. Wayne is still working night shifts, so you're really no bother if you want to call first. But this way, I can be the one calling you so you don't have to worry about waking me up or anything. Really. The buzzes aren't too loud, so they shouldn't wake me up. Let me know if you want to add anything to this list. I have an identical list with my hand buzzer at home that I would be happy to add to at any time. Merry Christmas Love, Your Secret Santa

Steve stares at the note in his hand almost too stunned to speak. He doesn't think he's ever received a more thoughtful gift in his life. He pinches at his nose and tries to shut his emotions down a bit, and Eddie must catch on because he loudly announces, "My turn!"

Steve takes a deep breath, forgetting entirely about the gift he got Eddie. He watches as Eddie tears the wrapping paper off the small box then dramatically and very slowly opens it up with a big smile, knowing he has the kids' impatient attention practically in the palm of his hand. But when he finally sees the gift, his smile and whole act drop as a look of realization crosses over his face.

Steve's heart pounds in his chest.

Eddie slowly removes the little glass bottle filled with brown liquid and silently stares at it.

"What is that? Some type of fancy bourbon?" Max asks with a scoff.

Steve watches Eddie's eyes get slightly glassy, and he's quick to announce, "Something like that. But alright, we have to move on before your families start coming to pick you up. Was a snowball fight next on your cheesy list or something?"

Dustin is quick to defend the list the group came up with, but Steve is quicker in pushing them all toward the front door. "I'll be there in a bit. Eddie and I have to clean up."

The kids all rush to put on their coats and shoes, not wanting to be a part of any type of cleanup. Once they run outside, Steve closes the door and rushes back to the living room where Eddie's still staring at the bottle, a single tear going down his face. "You... you remembered... and you... you got... how?"

"Of course, I remembered," Steve says, thinking of what Eddie told him months ago.

-:-:-:-:-:-

Steve sighs and stuffs more things into a box from Eddie's closet. Dr. Owen's people had finally given the trailer the all-clear, so they were finally able to get the remainder of Eddie's and Wayne's things out of there. Of course, the kids had spent about an hour helping with the living room before taking a very very long break at Max's place. Steve assumes it will be lasting until the rest of the trailer is cleared out.

"They're great help, aren't they?" Eddie jokes as he brings another box into the room.

"Absolutely. Always willing to lend a hand. That is until they decide that the adults can just slave away for them."

"Someone needs to give them a lecture," Eddie sighs, pulling out a pile of clothes from his closet.

Steve scoots the box over and asks, "And why does that person always seem to be me? Especially when they don't listen to me."

"You're just so motherly," Eddie says with a big smile, dimples on full display.

Steve can't help but smile at the sight. And luckily he's staring his way when Eddie picks up another stack of clothes and suddenly hurdles something Steve's way. And even luckier, Steve's reflexes are quick, so he's able to easily catch the smaller glass bottle.

Eddie's eyes widen and he quickly grabs at the bottle, wrapping his hands around Steve's in the process. "Jesus H. Christ." Eddie's grip tightens as he stares at the bottle and breathes a sigh of relief, dropping his head to Steve's shoulder. "Have I ever told you that I'm so glad you're a jock?"

Steve snorts. "No, but whatever in this bottle must be important enough for you to admit it. So, tell me, what's in it? Alcohol? Some type of weird liquid drug?"

Eddie pulls back and looks away, still cradling the bottle and Steve's hands. "It's nothing. Just, hold it gently while I find another shirt to wrap it in."

Steve gently grasps the bottle and brings it closer, inspecting what it could be when he's hit with a bit of deja vu. He tests his suspicions and carefully removes the cap. "Eddie, why do you have an almost empty bottle of perfume in your closet?"

Eddie turns to him and asks, "Please, don't tell me you sprayed it."

"I didn't. The cap just gave it away."

Eddie quickly takes the bottle from his hand and puts the cap back on. "It's nothing. Like I said." He rolls it carefully in a t-shirt and places it in the box.

Steve slowly approaches and looks down at the box, frowning when he sees it start to blend in with the other pile of clothes in there. "I'll be right back," Steve announces before running out to his car. He opens the trunk and sighs, grabbing a shoe box and carefully placing his emergency date shoes in the corner of the trunk before taking the box inside.

When he gets back to the room, he reaches into the bigger box, fishes the shirt-wrapped perfume out, and places it gently into the shoe box before setting it aside. Steve glances up and notices Eddie staring at him. "Is that the emergency date shoe box?"

Steve is going to give the kids or Robin a lecture later about giving away people's personal information. "Yes," he admits.

"So, where are the shoes?"

"In my trunk," Steve says, moving onto Eddie closet to grab the last of the clothes.

Eddie pauses before asking, "You put your emergency date shoes the kids told me to never touch in your trunk to give me a box for my perfume?"

Steve shrugs. "Yeah." He stuffs everything down and closes the box, pushing it toward the door. But he's stopped by Eddie's hand on his arm.

"Why?" Eddie asks.

Steve straightens up and puts his hands on his hips. "It's clearly important to you, and I wasn't going to let you forget about it and accidentally throw it again when I'm not there to catch it."

Eddie holds his gaze for a few moments and Steve almost breaks the eye contact, not used to having Eddie's attention directly solely at him. But he feels like that will change in the future.

Eddie shifts and places a hand on Steve's back, leading him to where he placed the box. He picks it up and opens it, slowly unraveling the perfume and staring at it as if debating if he wants to share the story with Steve.

Steve just waits, not wanting to pressure him. Instead, he lets the moment play out.

Eddie breathes out, "It was my mom's."

It hits Steve all at once the implication of the phrase.

"She would wear it all the time. I remember she would put it on once in the morning, once in the afternoon, and once before going to bed. I told her it was silly to do that before bed, but she told me it was only silly if I let it be." Eddie smiles at the memory before growing distant in his expression. "When she got sick, she started forgetting the time more and more. So, I would remind her. And toward the end, I started putting it on her when she felt too weak to spray it."

Steve shifts and lightly rests his hand on Eddie's back as he continues, "I told my dad that she should be buried with it. That she would want to have it with her and wear it all the time." Eddie's voice cracks a bit and he clears his throat. "He told me that was silly."

Steve shifts closer to Eddie so their sides are pressing together, trying to give him physical support because he's unsure of what to say.

Eddie shakes his head and smiles sadly. "I kept it since then. And I used to spray it all the time, and god, the guys at school would make fun of me for smelling like girl's perfume, but I didn't care. But maybe I should've listened to them because now I only have this much left." He holds up the bottle to emphasize his point, the perfume so low that it seems to barely cover the bottom of the glass.

"One time, I brought it to a perfume store to ask what brand it was. I thought maybe I could save up and buy another one." Eddie shakes his head again. "But the lady accused me of stealing it. She said there was no way I would've been able to afford it in the first place. That there was no reason for me to even have it unless I was looking for a cheap buck to make."

Steve's grip on Eddie's back presses a little firmer as he feels anger and disgust toward the woman overflood his system. "That's fucked up."

"A bit, yeah," Eddie agrees. He glances at Steve, and Steve realizes how close they are, but he doesn't try to move away. "Do you want to smell it?"

Steve's brows furrow. "Eddie, there's barely any left in there, don't waste it on me."

Eddie smiles somewhat bashfully. "No, it's alright. I haven't used it in a long time, and after everything we went through, I need the reminder."

"If you're sure, then yes. I would love that."

Eddie holds out his wrist and lightly sprays the perfume. He uses his other wrist to rub it in before he holds it up to Steve's nose. Steve takes a deep breath and is suddenly taken back to a vague memory from a Christmas years and years ago when Steve was too young to succumb to the disappointment from his parents who were still around. But it's a happy memory nonetheless.

"What do you think?" Eddie asks.

Steve smiles softly. "I think your mom had great taste. And it smells really beautiful. I wish I could've met her."

"Me too," Eddie replies softly, staring at the bottle.

-:-:-:-:-:-

"My mom had the same one. Years ago it was gifted to her. I ended up finding the bottle in one of the drawers in her bathroom. It was still in the box, so it wasn't too difficult to find at the store," Steve admits. He holds out his hand and says, "Here. I have to show you something."

Eddie carefully places the perfume back in the box and takes Steve's hand, following him up the stairs and into his room. Steve regrettably lets go of Eddie's hand to pull out a box from under his own bed. He holds it up to Eddie who gasps, "Steve, this must have cost you a fortune."

Steve glances down at the five boxes of perfume and shrugs. "There was a Christmas sale. Plus, I was able to use my Harrington charm a bit."

Eddie grabs the box and carefully sets it on Steve's bed before quickly wrapping his arms around Steve and pulling him in close. "Thank you. God, this is the best gift I've ever gotten."

Steve squeezes him tight. "Same with yours."

They remain in each other's arms for a few moments, not rushing the embrace or questioning how long they're allowed to linger. Only, when Steve starts pulling away, he starts questioning his next move. Because more than anything he wants to kiss Eddie.

The realization hits him hard. He knows exactly now what Robin's glances mean and what she's been expecting him to say. Of course, deep down he knew, but he just hadn't had to face it head-on yet. But here he is and... "Eddie," Steve says softly, lingering in his space.

"Steve," Eddie replies quietly, eyes flickering down to Steve's lips, already knowing what he means.

Steve takes a deep breath, feeling his heart pound in his chest as he asks, "Can I?"

"Hell yes," Eddie replies.

They both move together at the same time, meeting each other in a gentle kiss which they linger in. Steve moves away to breathe and shifts to cup Eddie's face with his hands and bring him in again. He kisses him with all he has, filled with the awe of the thoughtful gift he received, joy of the gift well received, and the overwhelming feeling that this is right.

Steve breaks the kiss with a smile and whispers, "Merry Christmas, Eddie."

"Merry Christmas, Steve," Eddie says breathlessly before kissing him again.

And it really is a merry Christmas.

#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #steddie ficlet #steddie fanfic #steddie fic #merry christmas #steddie christmas

2K notes · View notes

atrwriting · 1 year

Text

selfish - frank castle x reader

hey y'all back in action with another porn no plot one shot

all i'm saying is,,, they knew who their target audience was with this (or are we just all mentally ill?)

summary: frank shows you what it means to be a real, selfish man.

informal warnings: frank is the selfish man in this, but I was the selfish woman writing this. couldn't get this out of my head as I started season two of the punisher, and frankly (haha get it -- sorry) after this scene you wouldn't be able to either

as always, the actual warnings: vulnerable frank, #sadboihrs for both the reader and frank, smut, porn no plot, choking, dirty talk, and ROUGH frank

anyway... selfish:

“what’s your type?”

the million dollar question. the one that you had been troubling yourself over for years.

“my type?” you repeated, eyeing the man who asked you. “or my pattern?”

he tilted his head in curiosity. “both.”

you chuckled. “my pattern… well, they’re usually useless. man babies.”

it was his turn to chuckle. “you like taking care of them, yeah?”

you shrugged. “i love taking care of people, but not men that de-age into babies as time goes on. did you know a guy i dated asked me how to boil water once?”

“you’re joking,” he took a swig of his beer, eyeing you. “no way that’s true. made that up.”

“i wish,” you laughed, rubbing a hand over your face. “i’m also not making it up that i stayed with him two years after that.”

“sounds like your fault.”

you nodded. “the pattern made me realize what my real type is.”

“what?”

“it’s corny.”

“say it.”

a smirk attempted to appear on your lips, but you pushed it back down. “i don’t like selfless men.”

he let out a laugh in disbelief at that. “you and every other chick.”

you chuckled too. “i heard this an analogy once… if you’re falling over a cliff, would you want your person to save you? or someone else about to fall on another side of the cliff?”

he stopped talking then, listening intently.

you kept going. “obviously, i’d want the other person saved… but in my head, when i’m all alone and there’s no one that has to be saved… sometimes it’s nice to think that someone would be so selfish that they would save me over doing what’s right.”

“you could live with that though?” he asked, narrowing his eyes, a bit of judgement lacing his words.

you shrugged. “never been the person that was saved, so i’m really not sure. it’s not that i want to be saved or anything — that’s super fucking corny. but man, a fucking masculine man, putting you over other things? deciding that in that moment, you’re what matters to him? i spend all my days being selfless, putting myself in danger so other people are saved… and i’m tired.” you took a swig of your drink. “i’m really fucking tired.”

“why don’t you save yourself, then?”

“for the same reason you’re here,” you sighed. “when have we ever been selfish, frank?”

he laughed at that, but almost scoffed. “i don’t do anything i do for anyone but me.”

you swallowed then, clenching your jaw. “so many people have wronged you… but you’ve only done what you’ve done because of how people have wronged those you loved. hate to break it to you… but you’re as selfless as anyone could be.”

he folded his lips underneath his teeth and stared aimlessly off into the distance. there were bags under his dark eyes, and no amount of sleep or beer would ever take them away. the man would never know peace, and your heart broke at that. however, it was nice to know someone was going down the rabbit hole with you.

“i don’t think i’m selfless,” he finally spoke after a bit.

you raised an eyebrow at him, calling his bluff.

“i did the things i did because my family was what was most important to me,” he admitted. “that’s selfish.”

you swished his words around in your mouth a little, and decided he was right. the spin on your words made you nod, agreeing with him. “i see your point.”

“so, what?” he asked. “you want a man that would choose you over innocent people?”

you huffed, standing. “i know you know that i never said that. i’m saying that in the back of my mind, it would be nice, just once, for a selfish man to decide that i’m all he wanted. it would be nice to know that i don’t always have to carry the weight on only my shoulders.”

he didn’t say anything then, staying planted on his seat on the floor. he twisted the bottle in his hands and listened to you.

“if i’m being honest with myself…” you began, swallowing your heavy statement. “i would prefer if they saved the innocents, but only so i could die, as i probably would falling in that situation, with a clear conscience. all i’m saying is… it’s a heavy fucking burden always doing things so i don’t feel guilty.”

you walked away then, not muttering a goodbye. frank didn’t say anything either. you heard him raise the bottle to his lips once more before you shut your bedroom door behind you.

it would be an hour or so before you heard a gentle knock on your door. there was no yelling or screaming outside, so you were grateful to hear there was no imminent danger present. in your tiny pajamas, you answered the door to find none other than frank. he was leaning against a wall in the hallway that led to your door, only a couple feet from you.

he didn’t say anything when you came face to face with him. he just stared at you, placing all of his focus on your confused face. it would be a few moments of silence before he finally stepped closer to you, and placed a calloused hand on your face.

you froze. frank castle never touched you, especially in that way.

“wanna know my type?”

you stared at him and swallowed thickly. your lips parted to whisper, “sure.”

“an escape,” he whispered back. “i know what you meant by always having the dark cloud of duty hanging above your head, ready to kill any moment of peace you happen to get your damned hands on. i’ve done everything i��ve ever done for the people i loved, and i know the only way for me to experience any fuckin’ joy is with another person.”

his dark eyes held your gaze, and you soon grew lost in them and his words. you swiped your tongue across your lips and stepped closer. you could feel frank’s breath on your chin, but you couldn’t breathe. his scent, his stare, and his fucking words were more intoxicating than any alcohol you had before.

“you want an escape, frank?” you softly asked, eyes darting to his lips.

“i do,” he stated, before he lowered his head and kissed you.

his free hand immediately came up to the other side od your face and pressed against your cheek. there, he held you in the palms of his hands as you rested your hands on his thick, muscled chest. his lips were dry and cracked, but you didn’t care. the fire that brewed from his affection was enough to fill any of the cold, dark, and lonely places inside of you and you greedily drank from anything he offered.

“you want someone to want you, darlin’?” he asked in between kisses.

you hummed in agreement, not wanting to break apart your kiss for anything — even words.

“can’t get you out of my head, sweetheart,” he spoke, dipping his tongue into your mouth. “need to feel those long legs around me.”

you whimpered at his words, letting his tongue dance with yours. you could taste the heineken on his tongue and savored every bit. “please, frank… i need to feel you so badly.”

“i’ve got you, darlin’.” he picked you up by the backs of your thighs and you wrapped your legs around him. the pads of frank’s finger tips dug into your flesh and a warmth spread throughout you. “those fuckin’ legs.”

you would’ve giggled, but you were too consumed with the very touch of frank to even care. you pulled at his shirt and threw it over his head, sad to break the kiss for even a second. you immediately went to his neck and began to nip at the thick skin, causing a growl to rumble in the deepest parts of his rib cage.

“y’drive me fuckin’ crazy,” he grunted. “sweetest fuckin’ kisses.”

“oh, frank…” you moaned against his neck before he threw you onto the bed. you turned over onto your back to face him. he locked eyes with you as he stood over you, muscles naturally flexed as he undid his belt. your mouth watered at the sight of the fucking man before you, taking off his belt for only you. the way his shoulders, pectorals, and arms worked in the dim light of your room… that man would be the death of you. you hissed, “you’re such a tease.”

he smirked at that, throwing the belt somewhere in the distance. “think you’ve just never been with a real man before,” he replied, before engulfing you into another kiss.

frank’s hand dipped into your shorts and immediately went for your slit. your body fucking sang at finally being touched the way you needed to be as you arched your back into frank, his chest pressed against yours. when frank began to run rough circles around your clit, nothing could hold back your moans or him swallowing them whole.

“only took off my belt, and this is how wet you get?” he asked, biting down on your neck. his long, thick middle finger dipped inside of you as his thumb worked at your clit. he tapped against your upper wall and you keened into his touch, whimpering his name. “now i know it’s the men before me. barely doing a fuckin’ thing and i’ve got you like this.”

you nodded pathetically, just wanting him to continue. “it feels so good,” you gasped, bucking your hips into his hand. “please, please — don’t stop, frank.”

he leaned over and pressed his chest against yours before his lips found your neck once more. his kisses were wet and sloppy, and there was nothing better than feeling the weight of a strong man above you working at your needy pussy. his rough movements against your sensitive skin were sending you into a frenzy as if nothing mattered in the world besides frank — your world started and ended there. your body felt hot — steaming from everything this man was doing for you with barely any effort. your whimpers and gasps fueled frank’s movements as if he couldn’t get enough of them.

“such a good girl f’me,” he said before he bit down on your neck and kissed the spot. “y’get so worked up, i want to see what it’s like when you fall apart.”

“i’m so close, frank…” your voice was hoarse and full of lust, and you were about to break any moment.

“that’s it, baby, yeah,” he spoke, slipping a second finger inside of you. “cum all over these fingers baby. let me taste you after.”

“fuck, fuck, fuck —!”

your world came crashing down onto you. your strength was no match for frank’s, but with the way your back arched and body curled into him, your chests both rose off the bed. he wrapped a strong arm underneath the curve of your back as you fucking sobbed his name, holding you to him and supporting your weight.

“that’s it, darlin’,” he grunted against your ear. “yeah — that’s it. keep cumming for me, fuck…”

your hands grabbed at his thick biceps and you grew lost in his movements against the most sensitive parts of you that never ceased. your hips were rolling in circles with his fingers and your vision went hazy.

“so beautiful like this f’me,” he groaned. “might be mean and not let you stop.”

“fuck, frank,” you cried, whimpering for him. your body fell limp against his arm, and he lowered your bodies back down to the bed. during your comedown, frank kissed at your neck as his free hand ran up and down your body. his other hand continued to rub against your pussy and it was driving you fucking crazy. “let me ride you — please.”

your voice was full of desperation, and frank smirked down at you. he slipped his fingers out of you and rolled off of you onto the bed. you tugged his pants down to his thighs, not wanting to waste any time. you were so greedy, but he didn’t care. he smirked as he watched you pull down your tiny shorts. you straddled him, pressing his chest to yours, as you sank down onto his thick cock.

“my fucking god —“ you gasped, your pussy stretching around him.

frank immediately grabbed your throat and you sucked in a sharp breath at the sight. he placed the tips of his fingers in his mouth, and tasted your juices that remained on his skin. there you were, impaled on his cock, hovering over him as you watched the most sensual thing you had ever seen him do. his dark eyes were locked on yours, but your lips parted as you watched him taste you. only a smirk remained on his lips.

“sweetest fuckin’ pussy i’ve ever tasted,” he spoke. “now show me how she rides me.”

he roughly pushed you upwards so you stood up straight. the angle made a whimper leave your lips, as he was now fully inside of you and the deepest anyone has ever been. you planted a limp hand on his stomach, and began to roll your hips against his.

his calloused hands found your hips as he threw his head back against the bed. the tendons in his neck were on full display as he stretched his head back as far as he could. the pleasure he felt was spreading all throughout his body, and he couldn’t help but go taut at the feeling. you watched his mouth fall agape and his eyes close as a moan pushed passed his lips.

the pads of his fingers dug into your hips and pushed you forward and back. even his fingers were strong and had control over you, and you couldn’t help but willingly give everything over to him. your whines filled the room, getting lost in your own pleasure with him. there was nothing like the sight of being thrown into vulnerable pleasure with the man under you, succumbing to your touch.

“fuckin’ god —“ he moaned, raising his head back up to keep his eyes locked on where your bodies connected. “never felt so fuckin’ good.”

his hoarse voice caused you to move faster as you ground your hips against his. his hands were rough and desperate as they pulled you up, down, back and forth — until you didn’t know which way was anything. all you knew were the directions of frank’s hands, and you followed in suit as he dragged you down another road of ecstasy.

“greedy fuckin’ pussy,” he groaned. “never enough for her, huh? needs more, even after what i did?”

“yes, yes,” you whimpered pathetically. “your cock feels so good, frank. so fucking good.”

“yeah, darlin’, that’s it,” he grunted, brown scrunching together. “such a good fuckin’ girl f’me.”

“fuck, frank — don’t say that,” you cried loudly, biting your lip. “feels too good when you say that — i can’t cum yet.”

he immediately reached for your neck and pulled you down to him. you gasped at his rough touch, but your hips never stopped. he bent his knees so your ass could bounce off of them, giving you more leverage. his cock curled deeper into you, hitting your cervix.

“oh my — god —“ you sobbed so close to his lips.

“nah, baby, that’s not how this works — you’re gonna take everything fuckin’ i give you,” he grunted. “i know y’want to be a good girl f’me, yeah?”

“yeah, yeah, yes —“ you were incoherent at this point, ready to tell frank anything he wanted to hear as he bucked his hips into yours. “frank, i’m so close — how —“

“love a needy pussy like this,” he spoke, pulling you closer by the throat for a kiss. “you gonna be good to me? you gonna cum around my cock?”

“fuck, yes —“ you sobbed. “i want you to cum with me, baby, fill me up.”

that set him off. he rolled both of you over before you even knew what was happening. he had you pressed against the bed, hand still around your throat. you grabbed at his arm, loving having the feeling of his strong muscles hold you down. you wrapped your legs around his back as he threw his hips into you. over, and over, he drove himself inside you.

“dirty fuckin’ girl,” he growled, biting down on the skin of where your neck and shoulder met.

that was it. that was how you crumbled a second time for frank that evening.

you fucking wailed his name.

you grabbed at every part of him you could, struggling to hold on for dear life. your body shook with convulsions as your pussy tightened around him, locking his cock in place. nothing could stop his strong hips as they continued to rut into you — riding out your second orgasm of that evening.

you fell back against the bed, fucked out and gasping for air pathetically. frank pressed several kisses to your neck before he stood up on his knees, leaving your weak body below him. you pushed yourself to your elbows with whatever strength you could muster. frank grabbed you by the hips and you watched him slam his hips into yours.

you watched his forehead scrunch as his mouth fell agape. his chin was almost tucked to his neck as his eyes never left where his cock fucked into you.

“use me just like that, baby,” you cried. “i want your cum inside me.”

his strong, trim body went taut as his orgasm hit him, and you watched hungrily as the man before you fell vulnerable to the only pleasure he could allow himself these days. you watched as his conscious mind slipped further and further into the sensation until every ounce of stress and exhaustion left his face. you couldn’t help but bite your lip in pride and satisfaction — knowing that you will never see a more beautiful sight like frank castle using your body to get off.

you fucking loved selfish men.

----

DO YOU SEE WHAT I MEAN NOW EVERYONE GO WATCH THIS SCENE -L xox

#the punisher #frank castle #frank castle x reader #frank castle x you #frank x reader #frank x you #he can punish me #lol #frank castle smut #frank smut #frank castle imagine #frank castle fit #frank fic #frank imagine #the punisher smut #the punisher fic #the punisher imagine

2K notes · View notes

hoshifighting · 27 days

Note

svt’s favorite place to cum when they pull out????

seungcheol; all over your stomach. watching it drip down your skin, seeing the way you shiver as it pools in your navel, it’s enough to drive him feverish. he strokes the last drops out, making sure every bit of him is covering you. he loves the way you squirm under his gaze, your fingers instinctively reaching down to scoop it up, and the smirk that spreads across his face when you taste him is pure satisfaction. “next time, i’m gonna make sure it’s even messier.”

jeonghan’s got a bit of a mean streak, so his favorite spot is your mouth, right on that pretty little tongue of yours. he loves watching your lips wrap around him, taking everything he gives. “that’s it, baby, just like that,” he purrs, guiding your head as he pulls out, making sure you don’t miss a drop. there’s something about the way your eyes water or how you look up at him with that needy expression, that just makes it so much better, thumb brushing over your cheek as you swallow.

joshua’s a thigh guy, no question. he loves the way they tremble under his touch, how soft and warm they feel against him. when he’s close, he always pulls out, just to coat your inner thighs with his cum, watching it mix with the slick from where he’s been fucking you senseless. hands squeezing your thighs, spreading them apart to get a better view of the mess he’s made. the contrast of his pale cum against your flushed skin that does it for him, the way you can’t help but rub your legs together, desperate for more. “don’t worry, i’ll clean you up after. maybe with my mouth.”

jun’s favorite spot is your chest, right between those gorgeous breasts. there’s something about seeing you covered in him that just makes his go brrrrr. as he pulls out, he’s already positioning himself, hand wrapped tight around his cock as he pumps himself to completion. “fuck, yes,” he groans, letting go right on your skin, watching it drip down the valley between your breasts. the way you arch your back, pushing them together, making sure he doesn’t miss a spot—it’s pure heaven. he pants, fingers trailing through the mess, smearing it across your nipples, grinning when you gasp at the sensation. “next time, i wanna see it dripping down your neck.”

hoshi; your ass, obsessed with how it bounces, how it fits perfectly in his hands. when he’s about to finish, he always pulls out, just to cum all over it. the sight of his release on your soft, round cheeks? it’s fucking art to him. hands squeezing your ass as he watches it glisten. he’s rough, spreading your cheeks apart, making sure every drop stays where he wants it.

wonwoo; your lower back, that sweet spot right where it dips. there’s something intimate, almost possessive, about marking you there. when he’s close, he pulls out just to watch his cum paint that perfect little curve. eyes locked on the way it pools in the small of your back. he loves how vulnerable you look, face down, ass up, his release shining on your skin. it’s like a brand, a reminder that you belong to him. “gonna keep you like this for a while,” he murmurs, tracing patterns in the mess he’s made. “so you remember who owns you.”

woozi’s a little unconventional?—he loves your hands. there’s something so erotic about seeing his cum on your fingers, knowing they’re the same ones you use to play your instruments, that do your makeup, to create. when he’s close, he pulls out, guiding your hand to wrap around him, making you finish the job. he gasps, watching intently as his release coats your fingers, dripping down to your wrist. the way you bring your hand to your lips afterward, licking him clean, it’s almost too much for him.

minghao; i think thighs too? legs in general, or a very ample place of your body, drives him crazy. when he’s close, he pulls out, just to see his cum drip down them, mixing with the sweat, the cum spreading it alone because of the ample skin. “sexy,” he breathes.

mingyu’s got a serious thing for your face, especially when he can see every little reaction you have. when he’s close, he pulls out just to watch his cum land on your lips, your cheeks, your chin, watching the way your eyes flutter shut, your tongue darting out to taste him. he likes the visual, the way his release contrasts against your skin, the way you look up at him, covered in him. thumb brushing over your lips, smearing it across your mouth. “can’t get enough of you like this.”

seokmin’s got a thing for your stomach, right below your belly button. it’s a vulnerable spot, one that feels incredibly intimate to him. when he’s about to finish, he pulls out just to see his cum spread across your soft skin, watching it drip down to your hips. his hand shaking as he spreads it around, making sure you feel every bit of him. “love seeing you like this, covered in me.” the way you blush, the way you look up at him with those big eyes... fucks him“gonna keep you like this, babe. don’t move.” he loves the idea of you walking around with his mark on you, knowing that you’re his.

seungkwan’s a sucker for your pussy, especially when you're clenching with every thrust. when he’s about to finish, he presses in, just to watch his cum dripping from you after, when he pulls out, I think he may finger you to keep the cum in place, or just to play with the mess, watching you squirm.

vernon; at first, ass. but he always gets ’too excited’ and ends up cumming in the middle of your back, or when you’re giving him oral, he might get so horny that might go accidentally on your hair or on your eyes, or on your makep. he’s always embarrassed, making sure to wash your hair, help you to clean your eyes, or retouch your makeup.

chan’s a creampie lover! don’t tell me otherwise, please! the mere thought of breeding you makes him roll his eyes back. when you’re in public and you two leave the bathroom, he’s sure that at some point your panties can’t hold everything in, when if his cum starts to drip down your thighs, he knows that it’s time to go home—and fill youup again. but if he pulls out, it think that he might smear it on the pussy lips/inner thighs

860 notes · View notes

papercorgiworld · 5 months

Text

Whipped for their tutor II: A Reward

Mattheo, Theo and Enzo

Tutoring the Slytherin boys isn’t easy, so you use the fact that they’re absolutely whipped as a way to motivate them.

Find part one here, but you don’t have to read it. There’s not that much plot.

Warning: suggestive and a little bit of smut

This took longer than necessary just because it took me a week to come up with something for Enzo. Also, little announcement, I'm gonna mix requests instead of work chronological because I'm struggling with inspiration and I wanna write things I can instead of stay stuck on the things I can't, because I'm short on time atm, but I should get to all of them eventually. Happy readings! Have a lovely weekend!

“Mate, quidditch practice, remember?” Blaise’s face appears by the door as he looks at his friend.

Mattheo

He looks up from his book and nods at Blaise. “Right, I gotta go.” Mattheo says, turning to face you as he slams his book shut.

“Your work isn’t finished yet.” You state and meet his eyes, a small smile tugging on your lips as you play to win this situation. Mattheo looks at Blaise and back to you, he smiles at your silly comment, quidditch was way more important than studying. “I can’t miss quidditch training.” Mattheo argues.

You pout and your teasing eyes lock with his. Blaise notices Mattheo’s face going red, but what Blaise doesn’t know is that it’s because your hand is resting on Mattheo’s crotch. Softly your hand moves and you feel his member twitch. Such a sensitive boy. “On second thought,” Mattheo’s voice comes out almost squeaky and he forces a cough to regain compose “I’m not allowed to play the game if I don’t pass tomorrow’s test so I better study.”

Blaise knows better than to ask questions and simply nods before leaving. “Such a good student.” The words drip off your lips as Mattheo’s eyes land on your lips. “If you put in a few more hours of studying then you’ll nail tomorrow’s test. And Matty, if you get an A I’ll give you a little reward.” Your words are a seductive whisper and you know you’re doing it right when you feel Mattheo get harder. Your hand moves over the bulge in his pants and like the good student Mattheo is, his eyes fall from you to the pages of his summary.

You notice his blush and his hard swallow. He was trying his best to focus, but struggling with hardness in his pants and your hand. Seeing him like this, you couldn’t deny it, it turned you on a little as well. He was so fun to play with. “Maybe it’s best I let you study alone for today.” You whisper close to his ear and his puppy eyes meet yours. He doesn’t want you to leave. “I feel you’re … a little distracted.” You say lips almost brush his ear as your hand strokes him member one last time before moving away. “Good luck.” You say and you kiss his cheek, staining his face with your lipstick. Maybe she didn’t notice… Mattheo stares down at his crotch. Who am I kidding! Why am I so sensitive to her? Salazar, she drives me crazy!

***

Mattheo was really excited when the professor returned his test a few days later. When he spotted you talking to your friend in the hallway that same day he wanted to offer you his test but worried he would look like a fool he decided against it, cursing himself for being so needy for you. He needed your praise, he thought about it almost every night, but his ego kept him from begging for it.

So he eagerly waited for the next tutoring session and his eagerness was obvious to you since he was early. You walk into the classroom and are surprised to find Mattheo seated with his books out on the table. When he sees you walk in he gets up and smiles at you and you can’t help but smile at how whipped he is. “I got an A.” He blurs out before you even get the chance to sit down. You lick your lips and Mattheo feels his face heat up. Salazar, I sound desperate. I can’t even think with her around. You take a step closer to him and you lean suggestively close. Mattheo tries to meet your lips but you teasingly avoid the kiss. You chuckle softly, making him flustered, moving to whisper in his ear. “What did you think your reward would be?”

Mattheo swallows and his eyes lock with yours. “You.” He breathes, not hiding his desire for you. While waiting for you in this classroom filled with sexual tension Mattheo’s mind and body had gone wild with anticipation for what his reward could be. Every possible fantasy of the past weeks had shot through his mind as he had waited for you, for his reward. “You think that you can have me because you had one good test?” You raise an eyebrow. “An A+.” He specifies and he immediately feels embarrassed by how pathetic he must sound, trying to impress you with his grades. However, he manages to snap out of his embarrassment and regains some of his composure. With a slight teasing tone to his voice he speaks up. “You said I would get a reward.” He does his best to sound confident and you’re almost impressed by how good he sells it.

Your hand moves over his chest and lower, pressing your chest against his. “Well, as a reward you don’t have to pretend like you’re not rock hard, you can take care of yourself.” He’s baffled. His mouth opens to say something but nothing comes out. “Sit.” You command and he does so without thinking. You sit down as well and slowly unbuckle his belt, knowing that you’ll find his cock hard once again. “Now, there, treat yourself.” You say almost mocking him. His eyes stay focused on yours as his hand slowly and hesitantly moves towards his member. Your eyes meet his and you feel yourself drawn to his pretty eyes. You lean in and Mattheo’s eyes fall to your lips as his hand slowly strokes his dick. He was so turned on by you, but he barely dared to make a move, afraid that you would reject him if he didn’t play it right.

Almost brushing his lips you halt and let your eyes fall down to his hand jerking his rather large size. You let your hand rest on his thigh, making him bite his lip. “You’re quite impressive.” You whisper and Mattheo grips his cock a little hard. You loved how needy he was for your praise, for you, but he hated how much control you had over him.

Theodore

You sit opposite of Theo and don’t see Blaise, but still roll your eyes. How dare he interrupt your tutoring session. Obviously your tutoring was more important than quidditch. Theo gathers his papers and you tilt your head, when he looks up at Blaise to say something you quickly move your leg. Theodore’s eyes widen as your elegant heels move between his thighs. Your tongue slowly wets your lips as the slytherin’s eyes meet yours. You notice how his chest heaves and you have to keep yourself from smirking, but you play it professional and look at him through your lashes. Blaise coughs as he waits for a response from his friend. “I can’t.” Theodore finally answers, but there’s a hint of reluctance in his voice. He hated giving into you, but he just could not help himself. He needed to stay and see if he had a chance with you.

Blaise nods and disappears, making you smile proudly at Theodore. You don’t say anything and remove your high heels from between Theo’s legs, making him relax a bit. When he doesn’t return his attention to his pages but rather continues to stare at you, you get up from your seat and walk over to him. Your hands rest on his shoulder, massaging them gently before letting your hands slip down under his loosened shirt to his chest. “You really need to pass that transfiguration test so you better focus.” Your taunting whisper makes Theo lick his lip as his mind wanders to all the things he would rather do than focus.

When you still don’t get the right response you lean down so your lips brush his ear. “Be a good student. I like good students. If you work through all chapters by tonight you might earn yourself a reward.” You let a hand rest just above his belt as your other hand grabs his chin, making him face you. “Can you do that for me?” You're toying with him and he knows it, but he wants to be your toy so badly. The last bit of protest within Theo disappears and he nods. You let go of his pretty face and he returns to his summary.

“If you’ve finished your summary, come find me so I can check it for you.” You say and quickly grab your stuff. “You’re leaving?” Theodore blurs and he gets flustered by how desperate he sounded. You chuckle. “Yes, I do things outside of tutoring, but you can come and find me in my dorm when your summary is done.” You turn on your heels and he watches your beautiful figure disappear, but as soon as you’re out of sight he starts working on his summary, eager to have it finished and see you again.

***

A knock on the door has you turn your head. Before you can say anything the door slowly opens to reveal Theodore and you smile when he shows you a small bundle of papers. “My summary.” He states still not entering your room, but rather leaning against the doorframe waiting for permission to enter. Theodore knew better than to go into a girl’s room without her invitation. He learned that from Pansy, the hard way. You're amused by his good behaviour and get up from your seat to take his summary. You flip through the pages and Theo watches you with anticipation. Your hair fell perfectly, your eyes were engaged with his sloppy handwriting and ever so gently you bit your plush bottom lip. He was about to adore the rest of your body, but you speak up and meet his eyes. “This is actually really thorough. I’m impressed.” A smug smile forms on Theodore lips, but as smug as he tries to act he’s blushing as well, touched by your compliment on his work.

“If you put your mind to it, Theodore, you can get much better grades.” You continue and Theo chuckles. “I’m just rarely motivated, but you changed that.” You're surprised by his confidence, but you can’t deny that you like it. “Someone’s after his reward.” You quip and Theodore feels himself heat up. It was obvious there was no need to deny it, he wanted you and you both knew it. “You promised.” Theo says as he leans his head back a little in an attempt to look nonchalant about the whole situation.

You lay the papers down on your desk and side eye him before nodding as a silent invitation to enter, which he quickly does. He closes the door by pressing his back against his, eyes never leaving your body. His hungry eyes make you chuckle. “Just out of curiosity, what do you think you’re going to get for doing something as basic as writing a summary?” You elegantly walk over to him and seductively trace a finger over his chest. “I want a chance to dig my face between your legs.” Theo’s determined voice in combination with that phrase has your eyes widen. There’s a moment of silent tension as you stare deep into his eyes. “Don’t disappoint.” You tell him as you move your hand to his shoulder to guide him down to his knees.

Enzo

Your eyes slowly move from Blaise to Enzo who smiles bright at his friend, but shakes his head no. “Can’t, mate, I really gotta finish this or I won’t play at all.” Your eyes get all shiny when the slytherin’s eyes fall back to the books in front of him. When Blaise is far enough not to hear anything going on you scoot a little closer to Enzo. “I must say, I’m impressed at how dedicated you are to our tutoring sessions.” Enzo looks up to see your sweet smile focussed on him and he has to keep himself from drooling as his mouth parts a little. You purse your lips to keep yourself from laughing at how lost he is, staring at you. Eventually a soft laugh does escape your lips. “You know, if you keep studying like this you might get a reward.” Now Enzo’s jaw drops a little more and you can’t resist putting a finger under his chin to close his mouth.

You hadn’t said anything about what this reward would be, but he sure as hell wasn’t thinking about cookies, then again neither were you. “If you work hard like the good boy you are, I’ll treat you to something sweet.” Lorenzo was unsure if it was your honey voice or the way you softly bit your lip, but his pants suddenly felt a little tighter and his heart was racing at an unhealthy pace.

***

For weeks Enzo Berkshire had been the perfect student. Always on time for his tutoring lessons, working from start to finish, engaged with his work and his grades showed it. Yet the praise from the teachers or even the girls in his class, it all left him cold because he was only after one thing and that was the sweet reward you had promised him. Striptease, lapdance, blowjob, sex… just a piece of lingerie would be fine. Next lesson, probably… However, you had kept him waiting. Since there was never an exact agreement on when he would receive his reward, Enzo was left to guess and hope every week that this would be it. You on the other hand benefited from waiting for two reasons: Lorenzo was incredibly motivated and Lorenzo was insanely cute when he tried hinting at his reward, not really daring to ask for it.

You were surprised by how long he had played along, but he really couldn’t keep it to himself any longer. He was exploding of desire for you and the thought of getting anything from you as reward drove him mad. So he had to ask. Though the question didn’t come as a surprise, the timing was.

You were explaining the importance of distance when using certain conjurations, when Enzo suddenly spook up. “I work hard. I’m a good student. I deserve my reward. I deserve you.” Your eyes move from the page you were pointing at to see a blushing Enzo stare at you. You sit a little straighter and Enzo swallows, terrified that his impatience had caused him to screw up with the prettiest witch to ever walk the earth. “What do you mean with that last bit, ‘I deserve you’?” A nervous chuckle leaves Lorenzo’s lips and he even starts fidgeting with his fingers, making you raise an eyebrow. He went from demanding daddy to whipped mamma’s boy real fast. “What I meant to say was… uhm… I deserve whatever you give me. I just forgot a few words there.” You smile at his nonsensical answer and react with a serious tone. “Exactly.”

With a flick of your wrist the door slams shut and Enzo’s eyes stick to the classroom door as he realises he’s now completely alone in a room with you. While his face heats up, his blood rushes down. “You were cute trying to be all demanding.” You say as you move from your seat, Enzo watching you carefully. “I didn’t mean to come off too strong. I was just really excited for this-.” The teasing smile tugging on your lips when he said the word ‘exciting’ has Enzo falling silent. With another flick of your wrist Enzo’s chair turns towards you and he stares at you like a deer caught in headlights. “No doubt you’re excited.” You whisper, referring to the bulge in his pants. He feels like he’s about to lose consciousness when you slowly go down on your knees in front of him. He doesn’t move and he almost forgets to breathe as your perfect hands unbuckle his belt.

Him moving up to help you lower his pants was instinct, because you had turned his mind to mush, his eyes drowning in yours. As soon as you start jerking his dick his moans fill the room, making you wonder what sounds he’ll make once you have him in your mouth.

Whimpers, is what filled the room when your tongue teased his tip, and cries when you finally move to take his member deep. You had him begging in a matter of seconds and you loved the control as much as you were starting to love Enzo.

#slytherin #slytherin boys #theodore nott #theodore nott imagine #theodore nott x reader #enzo berkshire #enzo berkshire imagine #enzo berkshire x reader #mattheo riddle imagine #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle #papercorgiworldwritings

1K notes · View notes

hanasnx · 10 months

Text

fell in love without you

MINORS DNI 18+ NOTES: everyone’s nineteen. WARNINGS: f!reader | you have a favorite twin | sexual content with said fave twin | dubcon kiss

FRED WEASLEY stands before you alongside his brother George. A seemingly world famous smug air about them, having charmed themselves by their own wit. Arms crossed, towering tall above the random passersby as they absentmindedly drone to their next class. Your hesitation spurs the twins on, exchanging a knowing and triumphant glance that says all as you tilt your head at them.

“Are you serious?”

One twin feigns offense. “Deadly serious.”

The other mimics him. “Gravely.”

“S’only fair, innit?”

“Game of guess the twin, guess wrong and you’ve got to give a kiss.” he repeats the game rules.

“For hurtin’ our feelin’s.” the other agrees.

You narrow your eyes with a huff through your nose. “You haven’t got any feelings. Now let me pass.” you demand, and attempt to cut through them but they’re connected at the shoulders to block your way from your corridor.

“Now that’s what you win if you guess right!” they say together. Did they rehearse this? You frown at them as you recoil, throwing your arm out to your side until your book pats the outside of your thigh.

“What? You scared? We both know you’ve got a little thing for me.” One shrugs.

“And me.” the other adds.

“We’re only helping you along.” they speak at the same time, in annoying twin-synchrony.

You give in. “Do you really think I can’t tell you apart?” Lazily, you point to the boy on the left. “Fred.” It transfers over to the boy on the right. “George.” They exchange another look amongst themselves, and adopt a crestfallen expression as their heads bow, stepping apart so you can enter. “See?” you taunt, passing them by. “Was that so hard? I’ll see you boys later—“

“Not so fast there, birdie.” You halt in your tracks at the sound of him speak. “I’m George.” You sigh hard and hang your head.

“I’m Fred. C’mon then, give us a kiss.” They’d faked you out, or they’re lying. Either way, you concede in order to satiate their egos, drawing back to the place where they wait for you. It’s only a kiss on the cheek anyway, and besides it wouldn’t reveal your true feelings towards your favored twin. You’re just friends, and that’s how it should stay. “Tha’s a good girl. Look at her comin’ back, George. She wants this just as much as we do.”

“A foolproof plan there, Fred, well done.”

“It’s practically your only pick-up line, boys. You could do far better.” you tease, and drop your satchel to the ground where it flops flat hopelessly, and toss your book to land onto the leather. “C’mon then, lean down.” They’re both much taller than you, sort of imposing if they weren’t so approachable when they wanted to be. George goes first, stooping to offer his cheek to you. Sweetly, you hook your arm around his neck for stability when you raise yourself to your toes, planting a chaste peck onto his cheek. His skin warms your nose, and he recedes as you do. When you meet Fred’s gaze, he hasn’t taken his eyes off you, and you feel yourself heat up in anticipation. He does as George did, stooping but it’s a little gentler, dragging it out. There’s a mischievous curl to his lips and you sense he plots something. So you idle while you figure him out, until he interrupts you.

“Oi, wha’s wrong with you? Go on, pay up.” and you snap out of it, doing as you did with George. Your arm hooks loose around his neck, hand splayed on the cuff of his shoulder. While you raise yourself to meet his cheek, the tips of your toes bearing your weight, and things seem to move in slow motion. An arm straps around your waist, arching you into him as he turns at the last second, drawing you into a kiss. A real one. You emit a noise of surprise as he deepens it, seizing the opportunity to slip his tongue between your lips during your squeak. Out of shock, you take a fair bit of time to register, eyes flying open as you pat hard against his chest. You can’t push him off, but he pulls back after he’s made his point.

Hastily, you adjust your uniform with a gaping mouth. “Fred!” you scold while they snicker, you took notice of how George averted his eyes beforehand, so he’d known of Fred’s trick. Perhaps Fred put him up to it. Some innocent game that allows Fred an in to make a proper move on you. Or some sort of malicious advantage over your feelings. Out of embarrassment or fury, your hands pat hard on each of them, banging your fists against whatever is within reach as their laughs feather out when they flinch and try to catch your hands. When they escape, and you realize you’re desperately tardy, you have to let them go, calling out your vow of revenge after them.

“Where’s that vow of revenge now, ey?” breathless words spoken into your ear as Fred ruts into you. Hidden under the hot covers of your bed, he keeps you close with strong arms encasing you, pressing you to him as you lay on your sides. You claw the sheets for purchase, clutching onto the fabric to keep yourself grounded as he moves inside you. Careful, gentle, deliberate. Everyone’s sleeping. If anyone found out a boy snuck into your girls’ dormitory you’d be toast. His breath sends tingles up your spine, squeezing your eyes shut in the dark as you focus on where your bodies conjoin. Sticky and wet, Fred sheathes fully with a buck of his hips, and involuntarily you whimper. A large hand cups your mouth to silence you. “Keep quiet,” he whispers and you nod against him. “Didn’t take you for a bad girl, birdie, you’re a proper troublemaker.” he tells you, barely audible, his lips moving against your ear as his hips circle, welcomed by your sex, he can’t help but soak a second. “You wanna get caught, don’t you?”

You can’t answer, shaking your head against his hand and you feel his teeth nip at your earlobe. “Is that right?” he goads, unconvinced. He shifts, gradually picking up a steady pace. “Should we give ‘em a real show then?”

#2k #indy: drabbles #ch: fred #fred weasley drabble #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x you #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley smut #fred weasley x y/n #weasley twins imagines #fred weasley x fem!reader #fred weasley headcanons #golden trio x reader #fred weasley fanfiction #fred weasley fic #fred weasley fluff

2K notes · View notes

forzalando · 8 months

Note

hi marissa! first, i hope you have a wonderful time with your family!!

second, could i request “i might have had a few shots” with max, where reader drunk calls him after a breakup? thank youu 🫶🏻🫶🏻

i feel like i took some creative liberties with this one! i wasn't sure if you meant reader and max breakup or reader calls max after breaking up with someone else - so i went with the latter and couldn't resist making them idiots in love😭. after writing the danny ric angst, i needed to heal my own heart lol i truly hope you love it, liyah! thank you for always being so kind, it was a pleasure to write for you! wc: 1.8k warnings: cursing (most likely), a little bit of angst, mentions of drinking/reader being drunk

Getting ahold of Max Verstappen was nearly impossible – his use of the custom “Do Not Disturb” function was impressive. He had custom settings for everything: a work setting, a setting for when he was streaming, a race day setting, but his most prized was his sleep setting.

Once local time hit 10pm, Max Verstappen was unreachable to everyone. Well, almost everyone. His family, Christian, and you were the only exceptions, which aggravated Daniel to no end. “I’m your best friend, too!”, he’d claimed. But it wasn’t the same.

Max wasn’t secretly in love with Daniel. He’d take your calls anytime, day or night.

It was nearing midnight – Jimmy and Sassy were sound asleep at the foot of his bed and he’d been watching some legal drama you recommended. He hated it, but for you he’d watch it forever and take notes just to have another thing to talk to you about.

At this point, the show had practically put him to sleep, but the loud chime of his phone and your contact picture lighting up the screen jolted him awake.

“Maxie?” You yelled into the speaker. “Maxieee, are you there?”

“I’m here, liefje,” he chuckled. “What are you doing up so late?”

“Th’girls made me go out,” you whined. “Said I needed to dance and drink the night away.”

“And did you?” Max teased - by the sound of your voice, it was obvious you had taken their advice.

You giggled and the sound made Max’s heart clench in his chest. “I might’ve had a few shots, but don’t tell anyone. It’s a secret. Can you keep a secret, Max?”

His heart clenched now for a different reason – he was the best at keeping secrets. He’d been in love with you for over a year and the only living souls who knew were his cats. And probably Danny, though he'd had the sense to never bring it up.

“For you, I would do anything,” Max declared. In your drunken state, you failed to recognize the full extent of the meaning behind his words.

“Perfect!” You hiccupped, stumbling slightly before your friend caught your arm.

It was silent for a moment – Max waited for you to say something else but only heard your breathing through the speaker. “Is everything ok? Why did you call?”

“Well, no. Wanna go home but everyone else wants to stay out. Can you come get me, Maxie? It’s cold outside.”

“Are you alone?” He asked frantically, jumping out of bed and throwing a sweatshirt on in record time. He shoved his feet into his shoes so quickly that his ankle rolled – his trainer would be pissed when it came time for tomorrow’s workout.

“No, Nat and Peter are outside with me. They’re good friends. But not as good as you!”

Max breathed a sigh of relief – grateful that your closest friend and her boyfriend were watching over you. Unfortunately, the relief didn’t keep his stomach from twisting at “good friend”.

“I’ll be there in ten minutes, ok?”

You shouted thank you gleefully and hung up – he could picture you jumping up and down in excitement, you’d probably fall over unless Nat and Peter were close enough to catch you.

Minutes later, he pulled up alongside the club and he’d barely made it out of his car before you were jumping into his arms.

“I knew I could count on you, Maxie.”

He gently put you in the passenger seat, buckling you in and grabbing a jacket from his backseat to drape over you. Once you were comfortable, content, and ready to go, he turned to your friends to thank them for waiting with you.

“Thanks for staying with her until I could get here.”

“No problem at all,” Nat smiled. “We all thought she deserved a night out after the week she’s had, but I think she’d rather just be with you.”

Max blushed, unintentionally ignoring that your friend had just let slip you’d had a terrible week and he’d had no idea. He thanked them once again, and slipped into his car to find you half asleep and cuddling his jacket.

He thought you’d be out like a light in moments and turned the radio down, content to sit in silence until he got to his place. He’d rather die than wake you up to find your keys when you looked so peaceful.

“Can I tell you another secret, Maxie?” You murmured, startling him when you broke the still silence in his car.

“Sure, Y/N.”

“Alec dumped me. And I’m not even sad about it.”

Your latest boyfriend – you’d been dating for a couple of months. Max wondered why you had called him instead of Alec, but he didn’t want to ask since he didn’t particularly like talking about your boyfriends, even if they were nice. As far as he could tell, Alec was one of the nice ones.

“I’m sorry. Is that why your friends wanted you to go out?”

“They thought I’d be devastated,” you said bewildered. “And I haven’t even cried! You know me, Maxie, I’m a crier. I had to pretend to be upset when I told them.”

Max laughed at that, looking at you as you laughed along with him. His dimple and shining eyes caused your heart to skip a beat, and your smile slowly disappeared.

Suddenly, you had a horrified look on your face. You knew why you hadn’t cried – it was because you didn’t really care that much about Alec. Sure, he was sweet, kind, and attractive, but something was missing. When he broke up with you, he was so gracious, telling you that he thought the world of you but that it would never work because you were clearly in love with someone else. You’d protested – told him the only constant male presence in your life was Max, your best friend. He’d just smiled at you and said “I know”, leaving you perplexed when he left the coffee shop you had met up at. Until now, you had no idea what he meant.

You turned away from Max, shocked at the revelation of your feelings, staring out the window until he got to his apartment.

“I thought you’d be asleep,” he explained when he saw your confused face. “Didn’t want to rifle through your bag for your keys or wake you up. The spare bedroom has fresh sheets anyway.”

You nodded, practically catapulting yourself out of the car and into his building. The speed at which you trekked up to his place was impressive, especially in the shoes you’d chosen for the evening, and Max began to sweat. Had he done something wrong? Were you pissed he didn’t take you home?

When he unlocked his door, you ran straight to the guest bathroom and shut yourself in. Max was disoriented – you didn’t seem that drunk, and truthfully you were only ever quiet when you were asleep.

While you were in the bathroom, Max put a change of clothes and spare toiletries on your bed, slipping out when he heard the sink stop running.

You smiled when you saw the pile Max had left on your bed, suddenly feeling very ashamed for abruptly ignoring him. The TV was on in the living room and after changing, taking off your makeup, and brushing your teeth, you felt slightly more sober and a lot more guilty.

“Max?” you whispered, slinking into the living room to sit beside him on the couch. “Can I tell you one more secret?”

“Of course, you can always tell me anything.”

“Alec broke up with me because he thinks I’m in love with someone else.”

“Well, that’s crazy,” Max scoffs. “He must not want to tell you the real reason or didn’t have one so he made that up. I mean, what guys do you know that he’s even met? Peter? Another one of your friends’ boyfriends? You don’t even have that many close guy friends except me and - ”

Max cuts himself off, slowly turning to face you. He doesn’t think he’s breathing, blood rushing in his ears and a tightness starts to spread throughout his chest.

You have a sad smile on your face and your eyes are downcast, playing with the sleeves of the hoodie Max had given you.

“I don’t think I even realized until tonight,” you whispered. “Looking at you in the car, watching you laugh, how you were the only person I wanted to call and you dropped everything to come get me. It just kind of hit me – who Alec meant, why none of my relationships have ever worked out.”

Max scoots away from you, and suddenly it’s painful to breathe. There’s an ache in your chest that almost burns – like someone’s waving a lighter back and forth over your heart, each time leaving the flame against you a little longer.

“You’re drunk, Y/N, you don’t know what you’re saying. Please, please don’t do this.”

When you look at his face, see the panic that’s masking heartache, you realize that he’s not moving away from you because he doesn’t feel the same.

He’s moving away because he does, and for how long, you don’t know – but the flame licks higher and higher until the burning reaches your throat when you understand that he thinks you’re too far gone to understand your own feelings.

“Max, I’m not – ”

He cuts you off, reaching out to cup your face with his hand. “In the morning. If you wake up, and you still want to have this conversation, I will listen.”

You nod and stand up from the couch, leaving him sitting under the glow of the television. The apartment feels colder as you walk towards the guest room, and when you stop to look back at him, his head is in his hands and it terrifies you. Max was the one person in this world that you could never lose – it would shatter you.

Sleep never came to you – tossing and turning in the plush pillows that you picked out because Max wanted you as comfortable as possible in his space. When the sun came up, you crept out of bed and didn’t stop until you were in front of Max’s door. You knocked twice, rocking back on forth on the balls of your feet.

The door opened within seconds – Max’s tired eyes showed that he got about as much sleep as you did.

“It’s morning,” you whispered.

“It is.”

“It’s morning and I still love you.”

He smiled at you, so big and so bright, it rivaled the Mediterranean summer sun. You wanted this moment captured forever – painted perfectly in a portrait done by the most highly esteemed artist in the world.

You threw your arms around his neck, sacrificing seeing the beauty of him to feel him in your arms. His soft breaths tickled your skin, and your giggles made him squeeze you even tighter.

“You don’t know how many mornings I’ve spent waiting to hear you say that.”

“You’ll never have to live through another one again, Max.”

#max verstappen x reader #max verstappen blurb #max verstappen #f1 x reader #f1 blurb #forzalando blurb #f1 fic #f1 fanfic

1K notes · View notes