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thisthatpinkvenom · 11 months

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IT'S SWEATPANTS SEASON, OH MY!

JOCK!SAN / BAND GEEK!FEM READER

⤏ Synopsis: Autumn has arrived; the season of pumpkin spice lattes, corn and—unfortunately for you—grey sweatpants. those pesky little things have attached themselves to your boyfriend's legs like glue, and you're having a hard time keeping your mind out of the gutter.

⤏ Genre(s): drabble*, fluff, humor(??), smut, smut, smut

⤏ Content: jock!San, band geek!fem reader (I know, I'm so original), you're referred to as "sweet potato" once—don't ask, just go with it, established relationship!au, college!au, non-idol!au

⤏ NSFW Warning(s): dry humping, unprotected piv (it's fiction, guysss. use your rubbers and stay safe!), creampie, just lots of build up because I'm down bad for a man in grey sweatpants 🙈

⤏ Note*: this content is completely fictional.

The mosaic of orange and yellow was striking below the dull blue clouds as the trees continued to shed their leaves. Your eyes swayed with the leaf you'd been watching descend its way patiently to the ground while you sat on the bench, shoulders jittering in the midst of the decreasing temperature. Your hands peeked out from the ends of your sleeves before rubbing together, the crisp morning air making your fingers tingle in the cold. You should've worn a thicker jacket, is what you mulled over in your head that you hadn't even noticed San until he enveloped his own padded jacket over you. The gust of warmth awoke you from your reverie and you hummed, meeting eyes with him when he lowered himself into a squat.

"You didn't have to come here," he said, a dimple indenting his cheek as he curled one corner of his mouth upward. After pulling the hood over your head, he tenderly brushed his thumb across your cheek. "I know you're not a morning person."

You struggled to fight a yawn until you decidedly gave in, white fog manifesting in your breath.

"I want to support you," you murmured. You were too busy blinking away your fatigue to notice how he looked on in nothing but fondness. Your conscience warped your thoughts when you scanned over the jacket engulfing your frame, your lips forming into a small pout. "Mm…aren't you going to be cold?"

San took a glance at his attire; he's only got a windbreaker left to keep him warm. Nonetheless, he shook his head and insisted he was used to practicing like this on the field. Despite wearing less than you and the flushed red on his nose and cheeks, you couldn't really tell if he felt the effect of the weather as much as you did. You couldn't fathom how he had the motivation to get up at the ass crack of dawn to run around with a ball, doing drills with his teammates while Coach Kim rapid-fired pointer after pointer without a stop to catch his breath. It truly was admirable how smiley he was at 7:00 a.m. without consuming any caffeine.

Coach Kim sauntered along the grass before he blew his whistle and commanded the team to group together. Your boyfriend looked over his shoulder before turning back to you, eyes squinting as the sun's orange glow began to blanket over the field.

"Well, gotta start soon," he observed. "Stay warm and if you're sleepy, just go back. I'm happy you're here but don't force yourself to stay. All right, Sweet Potato?"

You made a small noise of confirmation, unfazed by the odd affectionate nickname you had gotten used to over time. The heat of his palms skimmed over your ears as he pressed a gentle kiss on your forehead before standing tall. But what you didn't anticipate—whoa—had really slapped you awake right then and there. For the mere five seconds you'd managed to capture a mental image, time felt as if it'd been stretched to hell when your boyfriend's crotch had leveled with your eyes. You hadn't realized the grey sweatpants hanging low on his hips and now that you've gotten a face full of…that, you're acutely aware.

You're shook to the core.

Your gaze trailed after his jogging figure, following the path up his long and toned legs to his cute little bu—okay, whoa! It's only 7:15 in the morning. You had no business indulging in these thoughts right now. Get it together.

Oh, he's facing your general direction now.

Are you staring at it too much? It's starting to feel a little warm, all of a sudden; it's the jacket, isn't it? Just how long is this going to take?

You're trapped on this bench. It hadn't even been 10 minutes since practice started and Coach Kim was rambling on about the importance of warming up while you're glued to your seat, pathetically staring at your boyfriend's dickprint while he seemingly had no idea. God, you felt like a perv. Even though he assured you that it was okay, you didn't want to just up and leave. This was a relationship built on give and take, and there were one too many times when he watched your concerts while knowing little to nothing about orchestral music.

You'll just suffer, then.

"Just fuck him."

"Lisa!" you chided, pushing three fingers against your friend's arm as she rolled her eyes.

"What?" She swirled her tongue around the glob of chocolate ice cream sitting on top of her waffle cone. "He's a hot, charming guy. Your own boyfriend makes you horny and that's supposed to be a problem now?"

"Oh, my gosh, I just…" you trailed off, eyes searching elsewhere for your thoughts. "I'm not used to being all"—you waved your hands disorientedly in front of you—"dirty…minded. He's the one who usually initiates it."

"Sex?"

"Everything physical, really," you clarified. "I just feel like if I start it, it's just going to be off—and awkward."

You sighed. "How am I going to get through this season?"

"Oh, yeah, the sweatpants; that's what's been making you a sex freak," Lisa recalled with an airy laugh. "Those things are like lingerie for guys. Especially the grey ones…oomf. 'Dicktoria's Secret' is real," she snorted.

You gave her a blank stare.

"Look, just be honest," she said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world—which it was. "You really think any guy is gonna find it offensive that his girl's drooling over his bulge?"

"I wasn't drooling—"

"You will be."

"Oh, my gosh."

You weren't aware that having a footballer-boyfriend automatically signed you up for three months' worth of almost nothing but sweatpants. You also didn't know how many he had stashed in his wardrobe until now—it's good to know he didn't wear the same pair everyday. But this meant he had enough pairs to flaunt his dick outline in your face whenever you were together.

Not good for your cavewoman brain.

Fingers danced along your neck and you squirmed at the intrusion, meeting eyes with San's own with your face sporting a frown. The same fingers belonged to the arm lazing comfortably around your shoulders, both of you having snuggled together into mush on his couch while you binge-watched one of your favorite shows. You whined his name in annoyance when you're kicked out of your thoughts.

He chortled. "Sorry, I just—it's Buffy and you don't even seem that into it. Is everything okay?"

Let's see: it's a Friday night. His roommate, Mingi went to visit his parents for the weekend and you're all alone with your hot, charming boyfriend™ who's clearly gone commando under his sweats. And you're supposed to be watching Buffy slay vampires…how?

"Y-Yeah, why wouldn't it be?" you stammered.

He hummed in feigned ponder, and the knowing smirk surging its way onto his lips would've sent a churn in your belly if you'd actually caught sight of it.

"You know that my eyes are up here, right?"

Your eyes snapped up in panic, and silence was the only response you had sitting on your tongue. You wanted to hide in a cave, where you could wallow in embarrassment without disturbance. Your own boyfriend had just caught you ogling his crotch like a perv.

San tucked his bottom lip between his teeth, suppressing a smile at how you resembled a deer in headlights. "You thought I wouldn't notice?"

Your mouth was stuck in a battle between opening and closing as you desperately searched for the right words. With a defeated sigh, your face fell into the safety of your palms.

"This is so embarrassing," you groaned, words muffled against your hands.

"Hey," he laughed softly, grabbing your wrists in an attempt to retract your hands away from your face. "It's not a big deal"—you sighed when the light from the standing lamp washed into your eyes—"it's cute."

You gave him a funny look. "Cute," you stated, doubt laced in your tone.

"Yeah. Usually, I'm the one doing all the staring."

He scanned you up and down with a pondering pout on his lips, continuing on to ask, "It's the sweatpants, isn't it?"

"Do you have to state the obvious?" you whined.

"What? I just wanna make things clear, so I know what to wear for you," he teased. He shifted closer and smoothed a hand up your thigh. "I'll wear more for you."

If he felt the goosebumps on your skin, he didn't comment on them.

"You say it like it's lingerie," you quipped, recalling what Lisa said a few days ago. You're saying anything to distract yourself right now, but you crumbled easily whenever he touched you. And he knew it well, especially when his hand moved dangerously close to your pyjama shorts. You're not even sure if you were breathing.

"If it's gotten you like this, then I'd say it pretty much is."

He moved on to say, "I like it when you look at me like that."

Your expression was frozen. "Like what?"

San's eyes changed ever so slightly, his hand finally slipping between your squeezed thighs.

"Like you really want me."

Your thighs parted for him. "I…I do," you murmured.

"Oh, really? Where do you want me?"

"Where else?"

"I asked you first."

You made a quiet huff from your nose, looking down at his hand that's aching to pull your shorts down. "Inside"—you hesitated—"inside me. I-I would like it if we had sex…please?"

His lustful gaze turned softer, eyebrows raised high at your interesting way of words. While you, on the other hand, visibly grimaced. San found your eyes shutting tight and your nose scrunching up all too adorable, and without a doubt, he would've bitten your cheeks if he could.

With a chuffed smile, he hooked his fingers at the waistbands of your shorts and underwear, waiting for you to lift your hips. "Well, what are we waiting for? Let's have the sex now."

You sulked at his incessant teasing, knowing well enough that he was purposefully expressing his words awkwardly. He laughed and assured you he would stop there, before grabbing your now half-naked body by the hips and having you straddle him. His fleece sweatpants were rough from the continuous use, giving you some nice sense of friction on your sensitive nub.

But above all that, you could feel the presence of his cock hiding beneath his pants, your pussy lips spreading the slightest on his erection. Your breath hitched as his hands made their way under your sweater, then your shirt; reposed comfortably at your hips as if they made home there. The pads of his fingers kneaded your skin as he looked up at you with expectant eyes.

"C'mon, get yourself off for me."

You waited with bated breath for nothing in particular—you'd just been momentarily distracted by his intense stare. Nodding too many times in the span of a second, you began to move your hips under the guide of his hands.

"Oh…"

There was a minor ache in your hips when he dug his fingers deeper in your skin, but you were too focused on the soft chafing of the fabric against your clit. It was getting you in the right place; so rough.

"Are you doing okay, Baby?"

You released an unstable sigh. "Y-Yeah."

He eyed the way your skin slightly folded with every move you made on his clothed cock, teeth pulling at his bottom lip. Your motions grew faster and more impatient as you yearned for his mouth against yours, falling forward before your lips touched his.

He pushed you down each time he pulled you forward, earning growingly unsteady breaths from you into his mouth. You nearly choked when he bucked his hips upward, soft moans having no chance to escape when each were engulfed by his lips. You continued to do nothing but mindlessly grind your clit on him, humping his clothed cock like you were in desperate heat.

You didn't have the mind to warn him at this moment, unable to hear anything but your own moans until you were reaching your impending climax. And soon with trembling thighs, you came. Your skin grew rampant with shivers while your mind went elsewhere for the bite of a second.

San finally spared some mercy, separating from you with a thin string of spit connecting your lips before he's splitting it with a lick from his tongue. Stealing a glance at the dark spot you left on his pants, he served you a lustful, lopsided smile.

"This is what you'll get if you're just a little more honest with me," he chuckled.

Your ears grew hot at the sight of your arousal leaving its mark, adjusting yourself with your hands on the backrest behind him. You waited a few beats to gather your words before you muttered, "Well…can I be honest with you right now?"

"Of course."

San waited with patient eyes, his stare nearly melting you into goo while he thumbed your skin again.

"I'd like to have the sex—with your penis inside me…please."

He didn't try at all to suppress amusement at how you'd poked fun at yourself, hearty laughter producing from the pit of his belly. The dimples in his cheeks emerged from hiding as he grinned and nodded while pushing his waistband down, just enough for his cock to free itself. When his laughter had settled, he pressed a peck on the tip of your nose.

"Whenever you're ready."

You grabbed the base of his cock and pressed the tip against your entrance, pausing for a moment until you began to slowly but surely, sink entirely down his length. The stretch always started as an odd pressure between your walls, but once they'd completely swallowed his dick whole, it always left you wanting more. It's a feeling you don't think you could ever give justice to, if you were ever asked to describe it. He was just so right for you.

Your body gave into him as he pulled you flush against his chest, his arms wrapping around your waist like a tightened belt. His hushed groans were made only for you, and hearing them continuously by your ear sent shivers down your spine.

"So warm," he muttered under his breath. He slid his bum further down the couch with you in his grasp and spread his legs wider. And when he was sure of the angle, he rolled his hips to meet yours, finding a steady pace with the most agonizingly unyielding thrusts. With every slam of his hips, your moans rendered into off-key whimpers as you melted under his guidance.

It felt like you were experiencing the hottest temperatures of the summer; your cheeks were burning and at moments, you felt like pushing away just from the sheer heat of your bodies entangled together.

A cuss left your boyfriend's lips when you gnawed on his shoulder, the salty tang of sweat grazing your tongue. And as if he wasn't holding onto you tightly already, he pulled you even closer as his cock rammed relentlessly, his rhythm growing sloppy when he began reaching his peak.

Your back felt like it'd been bent beyond repair as his cum coated your walls, the familiar twitching of his cock presented inside you. But he didn't stop there, he wouldn't until you came as well. And with his jaw clenched, he fucked into you like you were his toy, white rings of his own orgasm spilling with every move and making way to stain his pants.

"C'mon, Baby," he grunted. "Cum, f-fuck—cum, fucking c-cum…"

And in a few more thrusts, all you saw were specks of white among darkness. Your pussy spared no consideration on his sensitive cock and clenched as you trembled, the string of swears leaving his lips going deaf on your ears. Your limbs fell limp to pure exhaustion, despite how much you wanted to just wrap them around him like you were a koala and he was the tree. You wanted to mark your kisses all over his face but not even your lips were functioning right now as you barely managed to muster out a "thank you".

It was clear that it took a moment for San to register what you'd said, before he let out a breathy laugh. Not because he found something funny, it was just one of those laughs you got when you felt so euphoric—like getting your balls drained until you were a moaning mess; that kind of euphoric.

He kissed the top of your head, looking ahead at the TV where Buffy was still slaying vampires as usual. His dick stayed inside you, soft and relaxed in your warmth, neither of you in any rush to clean up.

"Mm…remind me to buy more of these sweats."

#ateez smut #ateez scenarios #ateez fanfic #ateez x reader #ateez drabbles #ateez imagines #choi san smut #ateez san smut #san smut #kpop smut

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werecreature-addicted · 2 months

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consider: you fucking every other wolf in Jock Werewolf's pack (presumably all his best friends) without him in order to make him jealous

incase anyone didn't see I've decided to name Jock bully werewolf Ceaser :3

I don't think sleeping with his friends/packmates would work as well as you're hoping. for one Ceaser is MORE than happy to share you with other guys, as far as he's concerned, they'll fail to please you the way that he can and you'll have to come crawling back to him begging for his dick like a slut the way you always do.

Then the real fun begins. he's going to punish you all night for being such a cock whore and let all his friends watch and sneer about what a useless cum dump you are. His friends trade stories about what you did for them how you fucked them and he makes sure you do every single dirty thing again for him.

He'll make you ride one of his friend's smaller cocks as a way to stretch your pussy out for him and his big alpha knot. Because he is the Alpha, everyone follows his rules. The pack only ever looked twice at you because he let them. there was never any chance of you sneaking behind his back with his buddies, they told him right away, now you're in for it, he'll fuck you like a whore, since that's clearly what you want.

Now you going and talking to some other alpha... that will get to him. This isn't someone he can control as easily. He hasn't claimed you as his mate, you aren't even a member of his pack, he has no real claim over you.

This other Alpha is sweet, a natural leader, good with people, and charming. everything a real alpha should be. He likes listening to you talk, and always knows just what to say if you're upset. he's a really good friend and he's hot too.

It would be so easy to fall for him and your asshole kind of boyfriend kind of bully fully knows that. at first, he tries pulling you back the good old-fashioned way. eating your pussy like it's his life's work. He'll even stay the night, watch one of those shitty movies you like so much and let you cuddle up against him while it plays. if that doesn't work and you insist on still seeing that other guy...well he can play hardball too.

Most werewolves come from big families with at least four or five siblings running around, and that's true for this nicer Alpha. He just so happens to have a little sister who he adores. She's only a year younger but still the baby of the family. Ceaser pounces on her. He's nice and friendly, kind in a way he never is with you, he acts like the perfect bad boy with a heart of gold, and he takes the younger sister out on rides on his motorcycle around the neighborhood and to get ice cream.

It's all bullshit of course. He hates this spoiled brat and he hates faking being nice, but it works, it gets her older brother's attention. They fight back and forth for a little bit before coming to a mutual agreement Ceaser will stop seeing his sister if the other alpha agrees to never speak to you again. Everyone's happy win-win.

Well except for the sister who just got ghosted and for you who just lost a friend. Don't cry sweetheart your alpha will be home soon to fuck you until you forget everything but Ceaser's name.

#monster imagine #monster fucker #monster #monster boyfriend #teratophillia #werewolf x reader #werewolf #werewolves #werewolf boyfriend #jock bully werewolf

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verstappen-cult · 2 months

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# PINING IN ANTICIPATION | MV1

Neither you nor Max know how it started but it made you feel better and that was enough for him.

Pairings: Max Verstappen x Fem!Reader. Content Warnings: +18, cursing, smut, unprotected sex, cockwarming, a lot of feelings, hurt/comfort.

Gwen’s radio message. . . 💬 : okay, so, this was gonna be a porn without plot kinda drabble but this thing came out instead. please don’t expect anything fancy because i really suck at writing smut.

Max opens the door before you could even start to question yourself.

He’s surprised to see you knocking on his door at two in the morning. You start to regret coming to him when you see him rub the sleep from his eyes. “Y/N? What are you doing here?” You look down, choking on a sob. “Hey, hey, what happened?”

Max is by your side in a second, wrapping an arm around your waist to guide you inside his apartment. He doesn’t let you go until you’re sitting comfortable on the couch, tucking your legs beneath you.

“Did something happen?”

“Had an awful fight with mom,” You fidget with your fingers, the corners of your eyes already filled with tears. “she said really mean things.”

Max reaches out and grabs your hand, thumb caressing the inside of your wrist. It’s not the first time something like this has happened, he’s very familiar with the relationship you have with your mother because it is pretty much the same relationship he has with his father. Actually, when you first met, you bonded over the awful parents and experiences you had as kids.

“Couldn’t stay home alone.” You say, shyly. “I’m sorry for coming at this hour.”

“Don’t worry about that.”

The silence stretches between you two. Max looks carefully as you get lost inside your head, staring straight ahead at nothing in particular. He can almost hear your thoughts. He knows what you need, the only thing that makes you feel better and gets you out of your head.

Max doesn’t know exactly how it happened. One moment you’re in the brink of an anxiety attack and then, in the blink of an eye, you’re sitting on his cock, face buried into the side of his neck as he rubbed your back up and down.

It wasn’t sex because you didn't kiss, there wasn’t some awfully awkward dirty talk and neither of you came at the end — well, not that you know. If Max had to lock himself in the bathroom after you fell asleep because he was still so painfully hard, it’s definitely not something you need to know; he still feels disgusting and will take that secret to the grave.

You didn’t talk to each other for at least two weeks after that. Max wanted to reach out but you were ignoring him, and he wanted to give you space to sort your head out. And when one day you sat down next to him and started to apologize and ramble about not wanting to lose him because he’s just so important in your life, Max was finally able to relax because you were fine. Everything was fine.

You had a long conversation. And it was that day when Max learnt that what you did was called cockwarning and it was actually something people do to feel better. For you, it was about feeling physically as well as emotionally close with the other person, so, that is why it was so easy for you to do it with Max, you felt safe and you trust him. You also explain to him how, when things are just too much, feeling that deep pressure inside of you as well as the warmth emanating from a body under yours is, somehow, enough to stop your mind from reeling with questions, and feelings, and emotions.

Max actually googled it. He opened an incognito tab and typed the words. He doesn’t know how much time he spent reading about experiences and actual studies about something that he had never heard of before. But it was like you said—many people do it because they feel safe that way, others because they don't want to think and it’s the only way they can relax and go into something called sub-space — Max didn’t do research on that because it was too much information and he just couldn’t handle it — while others do it just because they like it, no real meaning behind.

You promised it wouldn’t happen again.

And, well, you should’ve known better.

After the second time, you came to an agreement. Max would help you because he’s that good of a friend and cares about you. And because he didn’t want you to be looking for somebody else who could help you if you already felt safe with him.

He never found it weird, and you appreciate that.

So, now everytime you feel overwhelmed and can’t get out of your head on your own, Max is there to help you. Even if all you want is to just sit on somebody’s cock and pass the time, relax. He doesn’t care.

It’s good that after the second time he was able to gain some control and not embarrass himself and you in the process. Max still feels like, one way or another, he’s taking advantage of you and you’ve lost count of how many times you’ve had to assure him that it is not like that and if you ever feel uncomfortable you will tell him.

“Y/N?” He rubs the palm of your hand but you don’t look at him. You don’t react, not when he lets go of your hand and kneels in front of you and not even when he cups your cheek with his hands. “Hey, Y/N, I need you to get out of that pretty head of yours. Could you do that for me?” Max sighs in relief when he finally sees your gaze focusing on his face after what feels like hours. “There we go, that wasn’t so hard, was it?”

The corners of your mouth go up to form a sad smile.

“You need my help?” Max asks, thumbs caressing your cheekbones. You nod, but that isn't enough. “You know we don’t work like that. I need words.”

It’s not the first time that the way he speaks to you sends a shiver down your spine. You’ve just become pretty good at ignoring it.

“Yes,” You breathe out, closing your eyes to center yourself and stop the whine threatening to leave your lips. “I need you.”

“Good,” He almost says Good girl, but holds his tongue. “You want to go to the bedroom?”

You shake your head. You don’t feel strong enough to walk there. “No, it’s okay. We can do it here.” You say in a small voice. “I’m really sorry for coming. “I’m fine, okay? I just need to relax an—”

“Hey, don’t, okay? I told you to come to me when you needed me. Night or day.” He reassures you, but you still feel like crying. “You think you can wait for me? I need to go get something.”

“No! Wha—why?”

Max tries not to laugh but you’re pouting and he finds it cute. “I need to get the lube,” Your pupils are wide and a faint bush covers your cheeks, because he doesn’t finger you to help make things easier, even though he has said he’s okay with it, you’re not. “I’ll be back in a second.” He leans to leave a kiss on your forehead before dissapearing.

You hide your face in your hands, breathing in and breathing out just like your therapist taught you. Only when you feel like you won’t pass out, you decide to speed things up by removing your jeans.

You don’t like feeling like this. It’s almost comical that after all this time, knowing how your mother is and how always will be, she still has so much power over you. A few mean words and you are ten years old again. You can’t hate her, she’s your mother after all, but you’ve tried, only God knows how much you’ve tried to hate her and not come back running back to her when she tells you some nice things. It’s a vicious cycle that not even with therapy you’ve been able to stop.

When Max comes back he finds you sitting on the couch only in your underwear. You avoid making eye contact, feeling a little embarrassed for not wearing your cute lingerie. You chastise yourself for going there because this is not about sex, and it’s definitely not the first time that Max has seen you like this.

When you look up, he’s already watching you. “You okay?” You nod, not trusting your voice.

You break eye contact when Max moves his hands toward the waistband of his sweatpants.

“You need help?”

You see Max smiling from the corner of your eyes. “No, I already took care of that.”

Max is quick to shove his sweatpants down his thighs and join you on the couch. He pats his thighs and opens his arms for you, and you’re immediately moving to straddle his lap. You steady yourself grabbing Max’s shoulders, hovering over his lap and looking up to the ceiling as he busies himself opening the lube and dripping some over his cock.

Your heart skips several beats as you look down to find him stroking himself to spread the lube. You’ve seen him do the same thing at least four times but you still feel like passing out every time you see his big and skilled hand move. Not for the first time you let yourself wonder how would his fingers feel inside of you.

Max grabs your waist with one hand and uses the other to run the tip of his cock through your folds. You close your eyes and stop breathing as he, finally and slowly, sinks into you. You bite your lips trying to get used to the stretch, Max rubs circles on your lower back as he lets you adjust. You’ve done this quite a few times but you’re still not used to it.

“You can—” You sigh, opening your eyes but Max is not looking at you. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah.” He focuses his attention back on you, and smiles. You try to smile but your expression changes when you move all the way down, a whimper leaving your lips at finally having his cock buried deep inside of you.

Max groans, grabbing your waist with more force than normal before letting go and, instead, grabbing the cushions by his sides.

You lose the grip and wrap your arms around his neck, immediately resting your head on his shoulder and relaxing against his body. “Thank you.”

Max makes a weird noise, but you feel him nod. He lifts his hands and places them on your waist, fingers already caressing your back, sides and neck.

Max turns his head just enough to be able to leave a kiss on your cheek before going back to his initial position. He reaches for the remote and turns on the TV, choosing to put on some comedy film as a background.

The only thing you can feel and think about is his cock inside of you, making you feel so full, and the warmth emanating from his body, grounding you and, at the same time, making you feel like you’re floating around. There are no bad thoughts, you’re not thinking about the fight you had with your mom anymore.

You’re not actually too lost inside your head, the walk to Max apartment helped you clear your mind a bit. You’re still a little shocked by the words and things your mother did, definitely, but once you reached Max building, you were feeling a lot better. If you ended up coming up anyway, well, Max offered to let you sit on his cock overwhelmed or not and you wouldn’t let that offer pass. You don’t know how much time you have together because one of these days Max can find a girlfriend and you will have to go out and look for somebody as understanding as your friend.

The mere thought of Max with another girl makes you want to throw up. So, you shut your thoughts off.

You don’t know how much time passes, but your legs start to feel numb and your back hurts, so you shift your weight which makes Max whine, cock twitching inside of you.

“Sorry.” You whisper, stopping your movements.

“No, it’s—just,” Max closes his eyes tightly, and you can see a drop of sweat slipping down his forehead. “You just—” He groans, unable to say what he so badly wants.

You move from your place on his shoulder, eyebrows raised in confusion. “What?”

“Nothing,” Max’s voice is hoarse and the smiles he gives you don't reach his eyes. “Just—lie back down, come on.” He pats your back but you don’t move.

“Max, tell me.” He shakes his head, dropping his head on your shoulder. “Max, it’s me.”

He sighs, straightening up. His sudden movement makes you both moan.

“It’s just that,” He takes a deep breath and looks you straight in the eye. “You feel really good.”

His confession makes you want to close your legs which, for obvious reasons, you can’t. You feel your face burning but try to play it cool, like his words didn't have an effect on you.

“Well, I mean, your cock is inside of me,”

Max's laugh is strained. “Yeah… I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable because of this. If you want we can stop and I—”

“Max,” You cup his jaw, feeling the stubble under your palm. “I’m good.”

Max closes his eyes again, this time letting his head fall backwards against the couch. “You know the first time we did this,” He swallows, and you’re mesmerized by the way his Adam's apple bobs. How would it feel to kiss it? “I, God I can’t believe I’m going to say this out loud.”

“Max, come on. Just say it.” You let your fingers fall from his jaw all the way to his neck, just above his Adam’s apple. You can feel under your fingertips how it moves when he swallows again.

“You will think I’m a perv,” He opens one eye, when you smile reassuringly he opens both. “Please don’t think I’m some kind of pervert but… I had to lock myself in the bathroom to,” He shrugs, doing the movement with his fist.

“What?” You tilt your head.

“To jerk off!” He says, frustrated. One of his hands leaves your waist to put it over his eyes.

You blink at Max.

He looks back at you between his fingers.

His confession makes you feel that something you’ve been trying to ignore ever since that first night.

“That is totally normal.” You don’t want him to feel bad, so reassuring him that it’s okay is actually the only thing you can do. “As I said, you’re buried inside of me, if you didn’t feel anything then that’s a problem.”

Max sounds a little more relaxed when he laughs again.

But then there’s silence and eye contact. The only sound in the room coming from the TV and your heavy breathing.

You feel that shiver running down your spine again, desire pooling in the pit of your stomach.

“I’m sorry, I’m making this all awkward.”

“No, no. It’s good.”

Max raises his eyebrows in question.

You decide not to answer with words. Instead, you shift your hips, Max cock impossible deep inside of you.

“Oh fuck,” Max groans, closing his eyes tightly. His hands grab the cushion by his sides again but you want those hands on your waist, your breasts, all over your body.

“Max,” You whine, grabbing at his shoulder and feeling how tense he is.

“It’s okay,” He breathes in and out, just like you were doing not so long ago. “it’s okay. I’m sorry.”

You frown, “Max.” You try calling his name again, when he opens his eyes you can see how much his eyes have darkened.

Max sucks in a sharp breath when you steady yourself by grabbing his shoulders to lift yourself up, pulling almost all the way out and letting yourself fall back down. Max’s moan is obscene.

“I’m sorry, sorry, oh God, I’m sorry,” You babble, hiding behind your hands. What the fuck are you doing? “I didn’t mean to.”

“Hey,” He calls your attention, taking your hands and pulling them away from your face. Max cups your jaw guiding your face to look at him. “You want this? I need you to tell me because,” Max gaze falls to your mouth and he brushes your bottom lip with the pad of his finger. “I want to fuck you so bad.”

You nod, but then remember that he likes to hear you. “Yes,” That’s all Max need because he’s wrapping his arms around your waist, almost hugging you, and lifting you to pull out and then fuck back in. It nearly leaves you breathless.

You gasp, grabbing onto him for dear life. It’s inevitable for you to look down and watch how his cock pulls out and then back inside, stretching you so good.

“Look at me,” Max says, grinding his cock deep inside of you. And you have no choice but to look back up at him. The expression of pure pleasure on his face makes you clench around him, which takes another obscene moan out of him.

He feels so good.

You want to tell him how good he feels. How good he’s fucking you but you’re only capable of incoherent sounds, moans and whimpers.

“Max,” You choke on a moan. One hand leaves your waist and slips under your shirt to pinch at one of your nipples. You actually have to put a hand over your mouth to avoid screaming.

“I want to hear you. Please, let me hear you.” Max practically begs and how could you deny him that? The next time he does it, you let him hear you. And probably the whole building too. “Good girl.” Your cunt squeezes him tightly as he rolls his hips into yours. “You like that, don’t you? You like being my good girl?”

“Yes, yes,” If you had the strength you would be bouncing on his cock, but you can barely hold onto him as he fucks you nice and hard. “Max, Max.” His name falls like a mantra from your lips. The squelching sound of him pounding into you, mixed with the moans and groans fills the air around you.

“You feel so good— fuck, so fucking tight.” Max groans into your ear. His thrusts are deep and rough, causing your eyes to roll to the back of your head and nails dig into his skin, knowing you’ll leave marks that will last days.

Max leans closer and licks a stripe of sweat from your neck and, somehow, is enough to make you hit your peak. You walls clench around him, like you’re actually trying to suck the life out of him.

“Max, Max I’m so close,” At this point you don’t even know if you’re whispering or screaming, but Max hears you either way.

Max expertly finds your clit and, right on cue, your orgasm comes crashing upon you, warmth washing all over your body as Max keeps on fucking you, searching for his own release.

“That’s my girl,” Max breathes out, movements faltering. “I’m gonna come, fuck, gonna come inside of you.” Max feels his orgasm like he’s experiencing it for the very first time, like he was waiting for this moment his whole life. And he probably was, really.

Max squeezes his eyes shut, hips stuttering and your name falling from his lips as he spills inside of you. Your whole body gives up. You’re glad Max is there to hold you close to his body. He pants in your neck, both of you trying to catch your breath and thinking about what the hell has just happened?

“Did so good for me, sweetheart.” He whispers, leaving a kiss behind your ear. He doesn’t move more than to settle against the cushions with you on top of him and his cock still buried inside of you. And you feel so dizzy and stuffed full of his cum that the only rational thing you think about doing is to lift your head and kiss him.

Max whines into the kiss. He doesn’t care that the kiss is messy because you can’t coordinate and are so tired you feel your body going limp, but he lets you kiss him until you need to catch your breath.

He smiles softly at you. “That was good, uh? I bet you don’t even remember why you came here in the first place.”

“Oh, shut up!” Max likes making you blush, so he won’t ever shut up.

“You know,” He brushes a strand of hair out of your face, fingers lingering on your neck. “You are the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen. I always wanted to—“ He sighs, and you lean into his touch. Max feels like his heart is about to explode. “I didn’t think I could ever have a chance with you.”

“What are you talking about?” You squeak because surely he doesn’t mean what he’s saying. Because that would mean—

“I’m saying that you are,” He kisses your cheek. “the most,” Now, he places a kiss on your chin. “beautiful, and smart, and sexy,” Max leaves kisses all over your face. “girl I’ve ever seen in my life.” Finally, his lips find yours, but it’s quick and not enough. You want to keep kissing him for the rest of your life.

“Max,” You whisper, tears in the corners of your eyes. “You—I,” You groan, letting your head fall against his forehead. “You know I’ve been crazy for you my whole life, right?”

“No, that I did not know.” He’s teasing you, you hear it in his voice. “Well, maybe I had my suspicions.”

“Max! You never say anything?” A thought crosses your mind and you feel mortified. “I feel like I took advantage of you now.”

“What did you say to me? You would’ve told me if you weren’t comfortable. And I would’ve done the same thing.” You pout and Max can’t help but think, again, that you’re the most beautiful girl in the entire world. “When all of this cockwarming thing happened, I thought it was the only way I could be close to you. And I was helping you in the process, so I was more than happy with being just that.”

“I didn’t keep coming back to you because of my feelings,” You start saying, playing with the collar of his shirt. “but because I’ve always felt safe with you. I knew—I know I can trust you. I mean, that became clear when you offered to let me sit on your cock the first time.”

“I did not do that!”

“You totally did!” You laugh with your whole body because you’re that happy. But that makes you shift your hips which makes you wince at feeling Max softening cock still inside of you.

“You good? It wasn’t… too much?” He sounds insecure, you see it on his face too. It’s cute.

“It was pretty good, Max. If not I wouldn’t have let you fuck me.” Max rolls his eyes, chuckling, and you rest your head on his shoulder one more time.

“You want me to pull out?”

“No, just—hold me, okay?” Max makes a pleasing sound, lips finding your temple.

“Always.”

#꒰꒰ 📁 ─ verstappen cult files ꒱꒱#max verstappen x reader #f1 x reader #max verstappen smut #max verstappen fluff #f1 grid x reader

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velvetures · 9 months

Note

omg I luv ur writing!!! is it possible to get a story thats like, ghost (or whomever) is stretching and training together but there’s alotttt of sexual tension, and ghost ends up hard and they notice it bc of the position they’re in? (Like he’s restraining reader and his bulge is right in their face😭)

Tension

A/N: I went kinda wild with this one... please excuse my filth. :)

Summary: You've always driven Ghost just short of losing his self-control. Some peeping, close combat training, and seeing you do yoga eventually snaps the fine line warding off the Lieutenant.

T/W's: NS/FW 18+ ONLY, fem reader, rough sex, overstimulation, tension, inappropriate horniness, p-in-v sex, unprotected sex/creampie (don't do that IRL), fingering, multiple orgasms, standing missionary?, a hint of rushed consent, big feelings, manhandling ofc, and I don't proofread well.

Ghost had watched your late-night training routine many times. A bit of a jog to get warmed up, some plyometrics on one of the mats, and then some light weights. It would leave you in a glittering sheen of sweat under the dim lights; jewel-encrusted as you’d wait until the last hour of your workout to pull out headphones and start doing yoga.

After looking up some of the things you did, the Lieutenant knew enough about it to understand that it wasn’t just some bullshit thing you felt worked. It held some actual merit on plenty of applicable skills. And fuck did you make it look good. From the simple stuff like laying on your back and just breathing, to the more mind-bending positions like the *Sirsa Padasana -*one of those Ghost needed to know the name of- after watching you stay almost entirely still like that for five minutes. He’d seen a lot of the different ways soldiers practiced not only strengthening their bodies but their minds while training. And the way you spent so much time in yoga practice… he felt like there wasn’t any question as to how you had such control over yourself in the field.

In the beginning, Ghost found himself unable to interrupt your… sessions? for the unfounded reason that his presence huffing and groaning while running or lifting would interrupt whatever silence or isolation you preferred. At least, the silence he assumed you wanted since he never saw you in the gym when the sun was still visible. Instead, he’d just come to the edge of the windows and peek to see if you were still there; Deciding how close you were to finishing up before going back to his quarters and waiting until he heard the sounds of your footsteps walking past his door. But he’d been caught after a while.

And it opened up and entirely different kind of training that Ghost wasn’t prepared for.

You had been more than happy to share the gym with him, almost begging that he join since you never had “company” this late at night. Not that his “company” was much more than his body just being in the same room, but it never failed him to see just how utterly calm you were at the thought of him lingering around you. Most people flinched or shied away, but you never did, and even when you twisted yourself into the most ridiculous looking shapes and put yourself into vulnerable positions, it didn’t effect you at all that he could walk right by you or possibly be watching.

He was always watching.

It made hand-to-hand combat drills more interesting too.

Gaz had been partnered up with you initially, seeing as he could be the most patient and actually give you clear pointers without sounding too harsh. He’d been quite happy with your progress over the span of a few months, and quickly gave Ghost a task that became his most challenging mission to date. Teaching you how to fight without losing his own mind being that fucking close to you for nearly two hours multiple times a week. As if personally viewing your workouts late at night wasn’t bad enough, he actually got to feel just how much the yoga strengthened you when he had to grapple your little body and try to pin you down. Teaching you to block fists without seeing them coming, locking knees with opponents three-times your size, avoiding handcuffs, knives, and other non-projection weapons came with a cost.

Ghost wouldn’t really be focused on your techniques or reaction time nearly as much as he’d be concerned about the way your hips ended up flush with his, or just how easy it was for him to just slip one arm between your thighs and effortlessly manhandle you onto the mats. It was hard keeping a clear head when you just made fighting feel a lot more like aggressive foreplay. Hell, you sounded a lot more like you were being fucked too. Nothing but little grunts and groans when he’d secure one arm behind your back, or little pants as you fought off his punches and forward drives to kick one of your feet out from under you. s

“Don’t let me holding anything in your house I your legs,” He felt himself growling out the order as you fought underneath him to pull your legs free from between his thighs.

“If I pin you, you’re dead.” The words were harsh… and it’s why everyone thought Gaz would be a better fit.

But that hadn’t been enough, and now here he was, half-sweating and half-hard, trying to make sure his cock didn’t brush up against you long enough for you to notice that you were playing more than just one game with him. While your strength didn’t match his own, it was your flexibility that made you competent enough to have even been thought to be put into a spar with him. You could twist yourself up and out of spaces most grown men would never think about, and it did give Ghost a bit more challenge trying to combat how hand-placements knowing you were about as slippery as fucking water. And without attempting a conventional tactic, you’d gotten yourself free of his legs and wrapped back around his back with one leg and an arm pulled in a headlock.

Ghost gave a frustrated sigh, feeling his air supply being hindered but not actually cut off. You’d misjudged his windpipe -probably due to the mask- and tightened down less than an inch away from perfect. It was a good counter move, but not lethal. And that was unacceptable. Hardly any force was needed to pry your arms from around your leg and literally throw you belly-down onto the mat, both arms pulled tight behind your back with his legs pinning yours down securely. You wiggled and jerked against him, ass brushing the base of his ever-present erection, and it forced him to let you go. For nothing more than the safety of his own pride and insurance that you would go another day without your Lieutenant’s perverse thoughts becoming known.

“I thought I had you that time,” You pant, coming up to sit on your knees across from him with a frustrated look pinching your eyebrows. “What did I do wrong?”

He had to give you credit, you were so damn teachable. Always asking questions and stopping in the middle of a fight to expect some kind of explanation instead of just learning through trial and error. Naturally, he’d been partial to ignoring you at first but when you wouldn’t engage after asking a question until he said something, he realized that there was no use. So, he did what he could do best. Teach by example.

Slow… example.

“Come here,” You got back up to your socked feet and walked right up to him, sweat clinging to the tip of your nose and dripping down the side of your neck. He had the insatiable urge to rip his mask up and lick that bead from your collarbone to the pulse point jumping under your skin.

With one hand he turned you around, your shoulders tight to his upper stomach and placed his forearm against your throat in the same way you’d done just a moment ago. It made things hard since his arm hardly fit in the gap to begin with, but he could feel you swallow easily, letting him know he’d found the correct angle.

“Your arm hit off to the side,” He tightened down just a little, feeling your body tense up as he began putting pressure over you. “When it should’ve been straight.” With the smallest adjustment, his left hand palmed the top of your head, holding you still while the bulk of his muscled, right forearm pressed flush against the right side of your throat, and his massive bicep flexing to apply pressure to the other side; forcing a hissing sound from your mouth.

Your little hands came up to grip his arms, not exactly pulling him away or fighting the pressure. Both hands curling around his And while he knew he shouldn’t actively be testing just how long you could go before passing out, Ghost found himself waiting patiently just to see what would happen under the stress. There for a split second, your muscles suddenly went slack and he honestly thought you’d already lost enough oxygen to faint. But when your fingers still pressing against the veins in his arm started slowly moving in a little wave of tapping motions, he was proved wrong.

Right away he remembered seeing you do it before. In the times your yoga practice was a little less than comfortable or you were actively trying to push yourself further than you’d gone before. Something like a little tell, or coping mechanism that allowed you to focus without exerting too much energy to something else outside of the main stimulus. Another little thing you did that Ghost found so much more interesting and downright strange about you. How clever you were doing things differently than everyone else.

“Alright, enough,” He let go and pushed his hand in the gap of your shoulders to put some pace between you.

You stumbled forwards, taking a gasp of breath and turning around to Ghost with a heavy flush settling in your cheeks and a bloodshot tint in the whites of your eyes. You brought a hand up to your neck where a faint outline of his own arm had pressed into you, your fingertips tracing the outline with a little bit of an embarrassed smile on your face.

“Any reason you didn’t fight back?” He questioned, flattening out his tone and looking at you with a pointed glare.

You shrug, looking down at the floor for a moment. “I… was trying to feel it. The pressure I mean, and see if I could resist you.”

Ghost rolled his eyes, trying to keep from barking out a laugh. He’d not even used his actual strength to apply pressure. It was nothing more than the literal bulk of his arm just fit against your throat. Hearing you think otherwise gave the Lieutenant a deep stroke to his ego, even giving his half-hard cock a good wave of stimulation as well. He couldn’t find it in himself to not give you correction though.

“You couldn’t resist it, kid.”

“Excuse me?” The offense you took surprised him. Ghost took a couple steps closer to you, settling his hands on his hips.

“You. Couldn’t. Stop. Me.” He punctuated his words with a flat, and uninterested tone to mask the sudden intrigue he had after actually managing to keep the thundering beat of his heart under control.

You, with your calm demeanor. Patience beyond humanity. Body from his own wet dreams… A better man would’ve known how to stay away from you and ignore the desires to bend you to his own will. A good man would be like Gaz. Train you with only your best interests in mind. Develop your weaknesses without thinking of all the ways he could use them against you in the most twisted and deprived ways. Learn your body and train it to be even more dangerous than it already was. Not spend every second during sparring using it as an opportunity to have you under him or wrapped up in his arms so tight you couldn’t get away.

“Looks like you can’t stop yourself, L.T.,” You answer with a confidence and direct stare directly at his belt.

The remembrance of his cock straining against his pants became much more significant that his own comfort and control in that moment. Halting all thoughts aside from the way your eyes swirled with unspoken questions and plenty of ideas forming that Ghost didn’t nearly have the ability to respond to. A cold rush of panic spread through his body, and he immediately turned his back to you, spitting out some kind of dismissal as soon as her could manage it.

“We’re done today, go get cleaned up.”

Later that day, you’d not seen a single glimpse of Ghost. You’d not really meant anything mean by the mention of his… excitement, while training. It was understandable, seeing as you’d both been quite close and in very vulnerable positions that could easily skew anyones mind past the straight and narrow. You’d be lying if there weren’t times that you thought about the different ways your body could be really manhandled by your Lieutenant. He was undeniably attractive with his gruff voice and often bitter character. It made Ghost who you knew, and while you knew most people wouldn’t understand, you felt comfortable and safe around him.

Even when you felt his erection pressing against you while teaching you how to defend yourself in close combat. That whole ordeal was in the forefront of your mind in such a significant way that even Soap noticed it while you were putting together some dinner for the pair of you. Nothing special, just some pasta and chicken, but you’d nearly boiled over the pot of spaghetti twice now, and the Sergeant wasn’t so oblivious to not notice.

“You good?” He nudged you, taking the spoon from your hand and scooting you out of the way politely as to take over the cooking while you had such a hard time focusing. You’re slow to respond, still a little stuck trying to sort through your own feelings and the attempts to sort through what had happened, if it was your fault, and how in hell you were going to try and make an apology for overstepping bounds.

“Um… I have a question,” You speak up, wrapping your arms around yourself and watching Soap stir the chicken in the skillet.

“If you were sparring with a girl… and you got hard, does that mean you’re into her?”

You felt like a high school girl gossiping with her friends about how to tell if guys were crushing on you. Such a stupid question would’ve gotten you in a lot of trouble if you’d asked anyone other than Soap. Johnny looks over at you, a smirk on his face and his eyes alight with mischief. He turns around and leans against the counter with his lower back resting there causally, glancing around the kitchen and living area to see if anyone was around before answering you.

“Well lass, I can’t be sure of nothin’ more than theory…” He rubs a hand over the short and scratchy stubble growing out on his cheek. “But, if I really liked her, yeah… I’d probably get a little excited doin’ somethin’ like that.”

The topic falls into a somewhat comfortable silence after that; Allowing you to eat you dinner on the couch, stewing over not just the sight of Ghost standing right in front of you, obviously turned on in some way or another as well as Soap’s -unknowing- confirmation. Therefore by the end of your pasta, after a long stint of attempting to read a book, and debating if you’d just fucked up a very important relationship within your squad, you found yourself getting changed into some comfortable clothes and heading back down to the gym.

You didn’t bother warming up with a jog, or any real kind of strength training. You needed some kind of way to focus, and yoga was the only surefire way to shut out any other thoughts. There was just enough dedication required to work through poses correctly, that after less than ten minutes of gentle flow you’d lost a lot of the edge cutting into your peace of mind over Ghost. You’d been working on extending your ability to remain in Kapila pose, and got almost two minutes over your record when you heard the door to the gym snick open, followed by heavy footsteps walking past you towards the weight rack.

It was nearly one in the morning. No one looked for a hard workout this late night other than your Lieutenant, and he was the last person you wanted to face right now. Fuck… he was the whole reason you were pushing your limits right now, nearly reaching into the painful edge of stretches just to force your breathing and mind onto the center of balance and exertion. With your face mere inches away from the ground, sweat drips off your nose onto the mat you’re sitting on and makes a quarter-sized puddle by the time you’ve finally felt like you’ve held to pose long enough. Your flow lead you into Compass pose next, beginning the opposite leg and physically guiding yourself into a position meant for nothing more than to release tension lingering in your body. It takes a while to feel your joints and tendons finally giving up to the stress in your mind, making the hold on your foot behind your head more manageable.

It’s around that time you begin hearing the sounds of squat plates clacking against each other alongside the rich and room-filling sounds of Ghost’s quiet grunts and groans. Resisting the strong desire to imagine what his legs look like, flexing under the weight of the bar. Using massive thighs and such explosive power to push the multiple hundred pounds he’s holding over his shoulders over twenty times for racking the weight. It’s all in the sounds you can’t ignore due to forgetting your headphones. Damning you to an onslaught of delicious sounds that would’ve fell on deaf ears anywhere else on base. Overshadowing the tinges of pain in your body with the commanding nature of the Lieutenant even when he wasn’t seeking it out.

You spent nearly an entire half hour trying not to put too much weight on Ghost’s presence, working at this point just to get through your flow without drawing too much attention to yourself, or giving any reason for Ghost to say anything to you. You’d not prepared anything in the way of an apology, and you couldn’t begin to formulate one with clanking metal and his suggestive sounds filling your ears. Maddening… downright sinful in nature. Enough to make any woman squirm. And fuck were you utterly terrified that you’d chosen to wear such light colored grey leggings, because if you’d move in just the right way, the dampness growing there would be painfully obvious.

In a headstand, choosing it for nothing more than your confidence in it, you’d closed your eyes and started tapping on the mat with your fingers. Picturing your own spine and tying a string to it, using that thin string to draw your vertebrae straight and tall, lengthening your entire body and deepening your breaths. You nearly fell flat on your face when you feel fingers graze the back of your knee and tease over your calf. The wiggle in your concentration stacks your weight over your head and forearms on the floor and pitches you towards the ground.

Right away, an arm wraps around your hips and swipes you off your own control and kept you from falling to the ground. Instead of hitting your mat or the concrete you had your eyes on, you feel nothing short of muscle and stocky build pressed against the entire backside of your body as Ghost holds you upside down not unlike a sack of flour or a sniper rifle. The back of your head hits against his lower leg and you grunt a little, taken by surprise and once again finding yourself at the mercy of Ghost’s strength alone. You’re about to speak up, and are cut short by the Lieutenant literally spinning you right-side up with his free arm, holding you eye-level with him.

“Distracted?” His eyebrow raises above the cut out of his -much thinner- almost athletic mask missing the trademark skull painted on it. His hand palming your ass felt like it was branding the skin under your leggings, leaving you speechless and hanging on nothing more than the sounds of his breaths hissing through the mask.

“You… you spooked me,” You mutter, one hand bracing on his shoulder and the other somewhere on his chest… you couldn’t quite gather enough spacial awareness to connect the dots. “Made me jump is all.”

Ghost chuckled, “Spooked you?” Even his tone was mocking of the ridiculous idea you knew was so full of holes, it wouldn’t hold water. “Touching you s’enough?”

Looking down at your body pressed against his; the direct contrast of your cream colored knit sweater and his tight-fitting black shirt, the embarrassingly long distance between your feet and the floor. Everything about this meeting with Ghost was so far different than when you met on level ground in the sparring room. Then, you both knew the intentions. How to work around each other and how to go about pushing the right buttons. But now… you weren’t even close to feeling like having any power, and you were certain that the Lieutenant could feel it radiating off of you.

“Maybe it is.” Replying back, you feel his fingers dig a little into the flesh of your ass a little harder.

“Maybe its not what I’ve done that’s bothering you… but what you’ve been thinking about,” He challenged you back, looking over at the mat you’d been using. “Why you came here, pushing so hard… Ignoring me.”

All the air in your lungs evacuated when he so accurately saw right through your skull and into the deep recesses of your head. Enough that you were nodding your head just enough for Ghost to let out something of and amused kind of sound. Short of real laugher, but not nearly enough to call it a breath. Either way, there was no hiding now. You admitted it right to his face, looking deep in those dark eyes with a level of intensity you had never seen from him before.

“Why don’t you tell me what’s in your little head?”

You hadn’t the slightest idea where to begin. Should you admit that you were hungry for more about his thoughts on you? Or just admit that you’d been struggling all even with the guilt of enjoying the thought of him lusting over you and having the power to call him out over it? So many ideas popped into your head, spinning it around so quickly that y the time you spit out an answer, you were already in the changing rooms in the back of the gym; Ghost carrying you towards the counter with a mirror. He sat you down on it, slotting his hips between your spread thighs and rubbing those massive hands up your thighs like he was savoring the feeling of your muscles tensing up under his touch.

“C’mon. That was an order, soldier.” He pressed, actually pinching at the creases of your thighs made all the more defined with you sitting. “D’you have somethin’ you want to ask me? About training earlier…”

You gasped softly, twitching when his fingertips traced over the indentions in your thighs marking dimples and other imperfections that you would’ve loved to go unnoticed by his wandering hands curling around your hips and back towards your ass again, sliding you flush against his chest. Forcing you to visualize the heavier rise and fall of his chest, shadows defining the valley between his pecs and the heartbreakingly gorgeous width of his shoulders caging you in. Masterfully, this man was drawing words out of you in such a confident and almost inescapable seduction. Yet the only question you’d been struggling with was answered with nothing more than the soothing voice and teasing touch of a man who had you wrapped around his finger.

“Hmm, no questions?” His head tilted a bit, seeing you so flustered over nothing than a couple little touches.

Enjoying nothing more than how you looked at him so surprised and innocent, despite knowing just how fucking turned on you were after spotting the totally soaked crotch of your leggings after approaching you during your headstand. Unable to resist you any longer, Ghost tipped your chin up a bit to meet his gaze and purposefully softened it. Wanting to ease you into this a little more, humming lowly when your pretty lips curled into a sweet smile. Letting your head rest in his hold with every ounce of trust you showed in the field and one the mats during conditioning.

“I have a question for you. Did you like it…? Seeing me standing there with a hard cock, knowing you were the sole reason for it.” He traced his finger down the bridge of your nose gently.

“How does it make you feel inside, knowing I want to feel every inch of you. Taste your screams of my name and the slick dripping out of your cunt onto those fucking leggings you’re wearing.”

“F-felt… good,” You sputter, face flaring brightly. “Liked it a lot.”

His hands kneading harshly at your ass quickly came up to the high waist of your leggings and tugged, hard. Breaking stitches and even tearing the material on one side as he pulled those skin-tight leggings off your legs; Growling deep in his chest when the sheen of your arousal spread on your skin under the florescent light. You held on to his shoulders, helping him just enough to make sure he didn’t totally ruin your bottoms.

“I knew you did,” He snarled, throwing your pants behind him and giving you a very clear smile from behind his mask. “Such a good solider, too bad she’s a dirty little slut for her Lieutenant’s cock.”

You could help the guttural moan you let out when his fingers dipped between the slick folds of your pussy and so very gently rubbed over your swollen clit. Using his hips to keep your thighs from locking his hand into place. Ghost was as calm and collected as ever, giving you an almost placating look as you squirmed and fought between the desire to back away from the sudden intense stimulation and the desire for more. His other hand held your chin steady, tutting at you like he was disappointed when you bit your lip to try and muffle the sounds of pleasure he was giving you.

“No, you’re not allowed to do that.” He pinched your clit, making you yelp loudly and squeeze your thighs against him until they shook. “You’ll sit there and let me play with you until i’m finished, okay?” Ghost actually nodded your head up and down for you. “That means I hear every fucking sound, because they’re all mine.”

You couldn’t remember how many times you came around Ghost’s fingers before the entire countertop you sat on was pooling with your cum. Feeling it stick to your skin and the wet sensation of his mask dragging over your body as he licked and bit at your skin until the pain melted into such overwhelming ecstasy that you couldn’t hold your upper body of your own strength. You’d slumped your forehead against his chest, blabbering utter nonsense and struggling to manage just how Ghost could expertly play your body to his own desires. With a swollen and exhausted cunt still clenching around his fingers, you were being lifted off the counter and up into Ghost’s arms with the hot and thick head of his dick teasing your dripping hole.

“G-Ghost… can’t take it. Can’t take more,” You groan, clawing at his shoulders and back as he gently rolls his hips just enough to give you a taste of what he was about to stretch you out with.

“Oh yeah you can…” His breathless chuckle made your stomach churn. “You can. And you will, because I need you to come around my dick.”

In one fatal movement, you were speared onto Ghost’s cock down to the base. Crying out his name as your walls spasmed to adjust in time. Adjusting his hold on your body, the flexibility he’d lusted over while watching you worked to his advantage as he held you by your thighs, dropping your pussy back down over him. Releasing the first of many wet, sucking sounds that earned you such a deep moan of your own name that you impossibly tightened around him.

“Thaaatt’s ittt,” His punched-out praise only urged you on, creating deeper and more unavoidable desire to please him. “Such a good fuckin’ slut. Dripping down my balls… fuucck. You’re gonna make me come.”

The idea of Ghost filling you with his hot release poured hot, honeyed feelings of pleasure. You couldn’t believe there was a feeling such as deeply effecting as this. The shocking weakness in which you felt completely absorbed in to the point that you saw past the rough exterior Ghost was presenting, and understood that he wasn’t taking with your physical self, but everything else that you could offer him. Closeness, support, trust beyond what others had given… maybe even love. Sex hadn’t felt like this before. Especially the filthy way Ghost was fucking his cock up into you so deeply your cervix was curving to mold around his tip. But the connection was there and so strong that your heart was burning in your chest.

“Doin’ so good…” He murmured, wet mask brushing against your cheek and fanning damp breaths over your sensitive skin. “God m’gonna keep you right here forever,” He groaned, biting at your cheek through his mask. “My little toy. Let me make you feel good…”

That wetness in your bright eyes as you nodded up at him, whimpering broken pleads and begs for him to do it. To claim you… fill you up over and over. Never spend another day without Ghost either right next to you, or his semen dripping out of you as a reminder that you’ve been possessed by such a powerful and commanding man that would stop at nothing to drive you out of your mind with pleasure. Such intense emotional and physical feelings that sent you careening over the edge of a earth-shattering orgasm that left you quite literally screaming out his name at the top of your lungs, feeling a heavy pressure in your lower stomach break. Clamping down on Ghost’s cock and feeling overwhelming wetness soaking his pelvis and dripping down onto the floor in a gush of splatters.

“Shhiitt!” Ghost shouted out your name, stuffing his cock as deeply inside you as he could.

Feeling jets of his release flooding your pussy and overflowing the tight space until it rolled down your inner thighs in thick pearl rivulets. His hips rocked against yours, stuttering as they grew weak and his cock overstimulating against the texture and tightness. Right away the bruising grip on your ass and thighs loosened, and on unsteady legs Ghost moved you both back towards the counter and reluctantly drew himself out of you with a hiss. Too fucked out to even respond in a noticeable way, you just kept your weakened legs and arms wrapped as tightly around him as you could. Shivering with aftershocks of nearly-fried nerves and overworked muscles.

You were cradled against Ghost’s chest, with both arms protecting your body. His head resting atop yours, listening to your breaths and feeling the way you began to slowly wind down, made that much easier by his fingers trailing up and down your spine and whispered praise scratching an itch deep in your heart and brain. He was taken by you, so small and made that much smaller with nothing but that soft sweater covering your form and the little hands you’d fisted into his shirt. So pretty, and if it wasn’t for seeing your skills as a soldier, he’d think you were as breakable as a hand painted, porcelain teacup.

Duty to protect and provide washed over Ghost. So strongly that even the small chills rising on your legs were distressing him beyond what would’ve felt acceptable. He wanted you warm and feeling safe with him after taking so much for so long that you could hardly hold your own head up. Moving you again to his quarters was his next task, and he very quickly had you gathered up in his arms and the large towel you’d brought to the gym draped over your bottom half so that neither of you would have to fuss with the wet leggings that had been unintentionally soaked by your final orgasm. Ghost didn’t even bother picking them up off the floor since the right side had been ripped apart beyond repair or wearing again. Mentally, he already had plans on replacing them.

But there would be a lot of things that changed sooner than later.

He’d done everything to stay away. Pretend that he didn’t want you deep in his very bones, and ignore how heavy of a struggle it became to deny simple closeness to another human being that meant more than a cooperating operator. You would be nothing less than his sole purpose in working for. Ensuring you had everything you needed and more than you could ever ask for. He’d take nothing you gave for granted, including the total control of your body for him tonight. And he’d be certain that the next time he touched you… he would do it the right way instead of allowing the desperate side of him to try and swallow you whole. You deserved more than a rough and dominating man. And he wasn’t sure how to even go about becoming something he’d long abandoned for no other reason than survival.

But fuck if he’d be damned if he didn’t dedicate the rest of his life trying.

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#simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #cod #cod mwii #simon riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #velvetures writes #velvetures

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appocalipse · 4 months

Note

Congrats! How huge! Can I shop?! 🛍️

There's an antique lock and key set and a pair of velvet gloves that look like they have my name written all over them (or a smutty friends to lovers with Steve Harrington where maybe we're partners in a game - drinking game at a rager, yard game at a bbq, board game on a game night, chicken at the pool party...I'm not picky - and celebrating our winning streak gets...a little out of hand 😉😉)

thank you, angel ♥ i got more than a little carried away with this one lol 6.4k words | cw: fingering, oral sex, unprotected sex 18+ only! mdni! literally the smuttiest smut that ever smutted

amy's flea market ♥

"Ready?" Steve asks.

No. Fuck, no.

“Yeah,” you respond. Steve smiles that almost evil smile of his and dives down so you can climb onto his shoulders. Again. You can't believe you're doing this again.

It's the third round of chicken fighting that you and Steve are participating in, and as you climb onto Steve's shoulders, you try not to think that you're climbing onto Steve's shoulders.

Steve. Your friend Steve. The guy you have the world's biggest crush on...no, fuck that. It's more. You know it's more, but you're afraid to admit the stronger word.

Because Steve is Steve. He's off limits.

Which doesn't make it any easier for you to try not to think about the way his big, warm hands are now on your thighs, holding on tight so you don't fall off his shoulders, where you're sitting in nothing but a bikini, his head between your legs...

"1, 2,3...go!" Robin yells, sitting on the edge of the pool with her feet in the water. You raise your arms as the team in front of you advances, the girl's arms stretched in hopes of pushing you off Steve.

But you and Steve are, apparently, invincible today.

It happens faster this time; next thing you know, the girl's grip slips, and you are the one who ends up pushing her into the water, her partner also losing his balance in the process. They laugh and the crowd — including Robin — goes wild. The adrenaline surges through your veins as you realize you've won. Again. Steve keeps you up there for one more moment, just so you can throw your arms in the air, giggling, enjoying your third victory in a row. Then, he carefully lowers you down into the water.

When he emerges again, wet hair sticking to his forehead, he's grinning at you as he grabs your wrist, making you raise your arm one more for the crowd.

You giggle.

Steve sighs. It's that laugh of yours, the one that makes his heart skip a beat every time.

"I think that's enough for today," you say, lowering your arm and grinning up at him, a bit dizzy from the adrenaline of the victory and the heat of the sun on your skin.

Steve suddenly feels dizzy too, for a completely different reason.

He unsuspectingly watches as a fat drop of water travels down your lower lip, to your chin, your neck... and then you turn around, moving in the direction of the pool ladder. Against his better judgment, he follows.

Once out of the pool, you look around.

"D'you want me to grab a clean towel for you?" Steve offers, ever the gentleman.

"Towel, yeah, that would be great..." you murmur, feeling ten times more self-conscious now that the two of you are out of the water. You don't even know most of the people here… "Can I come with you?"

Steve coughs.

The pool party had started earlier that day. The only clean towels remaining in that house now are in his bathroom.

In his room.

And you're all wet.

For God's sake. That's the last place where he should be alone with you right now.

But, like an idiot, Steve nods, "Sure, let's go."

He leads you through the living room, past a group of people who are sitting on the floor, drinking and laughing, to the stairs, taking them two at a time. You're a little out of breath, but manage to keep up with his long strides until he reaches the top. The hallway up here is a lot dimmer, but you can still see the soft, warm sunlight coming from beneath his bedroom door. It's strange how you've never been in his room before. Countless times in his house, sure, but never his room.

Steve clears his throat and then opens the door, stepping aside to let you enter first.

It's... not what you expected. It's not messy like the stereotypical rich boy's room, but it's not pristine either. It's neat, orderly, but... lived in. There's a king-sized bed in the center of the room, covered with a duvet that looks like it's been slept in. A small nightstand on each side of the bed, with a lamp and a few framed photos on top — you're even in some of them with him and the kids. The walls are painted a soft, warm blue, and there's a big window next to the bed, letting in the bright sunlight.

The air smells like... like him. Like soap and hairspray.

Steve clears his throat, drawing your attention back to him. He's still shirtless, so it's not like that's hard to do. "Here, take this," he says, tossing a towel in your direction. You catch it reflexively, feeling the softness of the fabric against your bare skin.

"Thanks," you murmur, rubbing your hair with it.

The sound of laughter from downstairs seeps in through the partly open window. Steve is standing on the other side of the room, a towel loosely draped around his neck, and maybe it's that mysterious drink Robin offered you earlier making you imagine things, but there's a strange tension in the air and you're under the distinct impression that Steve is consciously avoiding you as you dry off.

You wonder what he's thinking.

Steve clears his throat again, seeming to steel himself for something. "Um... I'm gonna go grab a drink. You... you want one?" he asks, not quite meeting your eye.

"Sure. And...can you get my dress? I left it downstairs earlier."

Steve nods, turning away from you so fast you almost wonder if he's mad. He disappears into the hallway, and you hear the click of the door being closed behind him, followed by the distant sound of footsteps as he makes his way downstairs.

Left alone in his room, you wander over to the bed and sit down on the edge, now wrapped in your towel. The duvet is soft against your bare skin, and the pillows smell like him. You can't help but wonder what it would be like to curl up here with him, to feel his warmth surround you as you drift off to sleep.

Probably not the kind of thought you should have in your friend's room.

The door opens again, and Steve steps back in, two glasses of something clear and fizzy in his hand. "Here you go," he says, handing you one of them. You take the drink gratefully, sniffing at it before taking a sip. It's some kind of spritzer, sweet and tangy. "And here's your dress."

It's draped over the curve of his arm. Steve sets his own drink on the nightstand before sitting down on the bed beside you, extending his arm so you could take the dress.

You do take it, but make no move to put it on. "I didn't know you were that good at chicken fighting," you say, trying to make it sound light-hearted.

Steve smiles. "Pretty sure it was all you."

"Of course not," you playfully nudge him. "We're a team."

He looks at you for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then, he reaches for his drink and takes a generous sip. "Yeah, a team," he repeats softly.

"What?"

"Nothing."

He studies you for a moment, taking another sip of his drink. The silence stretches between you. You wish you knew what was going through his mind, if he was feeling the same things you were.

"It is something," you quietly insist.

Steve looks at you, his eyes flickering uncertainly. "I don't know what you mean," he says finally, but there's a catch in his voice that betrays him, a hint of vulnerability that you've never heard before.

You stand up. He looks at you like you had just slapped him.

"I'm still wet," you explain. Then, way too quickly for your embarrassment to go unnoticed, you add, "from the pool, I mean! Not...I don't want to make a mess of your bed or anything, you know...I mean, by sitting there while I'm wearing a wet bikini and-"

Steve cuts you off with a laugh. "Hey, hey," he says, reaching out to take your hand. "It's okay. You're fine. You can sit here." He squeezes your hand gently, and there's a warmth in his touch that sends a shiver through you. "And if you did make a mess, I'd clean it up. No worries."

You sit down again. Better than awkwardly standing there.

"Very gentlemanly of you," you murmur, a small smile tugging at your lips.

Steve shrugs, returning your smile. "I'm not that bad, am I?" he asks, his voice teasing.

"The worst. But you're a good partner in chicken fighting, though."

Steve swallows hard.

"Just that?"

There is a moment of silence, as you and Steve stare at each other. You know exactly what he means, what's behind that question, behind the look he's giving you right now, studying your face like it's the first time he's seeing it. At least...you think you know.

He puts his glass aside again. You open your mouth to say something, but he's faster.

"I need to go."

"Wait-"

He doesn't wait. Steve is on his feet in a second, almost at the door in two.

But you, somehow supernaturally faster…you grab his wrist. You grab his wrist with both hands and oh God, Steve's not quite sure what to do with you now. He doesn't respond, doesn't move. You tug at his arm, wanting him to turn around, look at you. He doesn't.

"Steve."

His name feels like a whisper on your lips. It's not loud, but it's urgent.

Steve is having a hard time remembering why he's supposed to keep his distance from you. He turns around to look at you, your hand slipping down to his, still not letting him go…and he realizes it was a bad idea.

The desperation in your eyes mirrors his own, and before he knows what he's doing, Steve is leaning in, hands grabbing your face, mouth finding yours, lips parting.

He's not gentle, not soft.

You moan into the kiss and Steve kicks the door closed without looking, his hands finding your waist as you cling to his neck, the towel falling at your feet. Your lips part and he slips inside, tasting you, feeling the warmth of your breath on his skin as you gasp, stumbling back as he pushes forward.

The bed is soft but cold beneath you as you land, Steve on top of you, pinning you down."God," he groans into your neck. "Sorry."

You giggle. "God, sorry?"

He groans in reply, lips moving against your neck as he continues to kiss his way down your collarbone. "I mean it," he whispers, his voice hoarse with desire. "I shouldn't be doing this."

"M' not...complaining."

Steve laughs roughly into your skin, pressing his lips to the dip between your breasts and finally looking up into your eyes. He pauses for a moment, searching for something there. You can see the uncertainty in his expression, the fear of losing control, of what will happen if he really lets go.

"Do you want me to stop?"

"No," you say automatically.

He chuckles at your answer, a soft, low sound that vibrates through your chest. "You're sure?" he whispers, leaning in to kiss you again, this time softer, slower. "Because I don't want to hurt you. I don't want to take advantage of you."

"How could you possibly take advantage of me?" you ask, sounding almost annoyed.

Steve smiles. "I don't know. I just..." He trails off, pressing a quick kiss to your chin. "I just want this to be right."

You can feel his hesitation, his worry, but you don't want to push him away. You reach up, gently cupping his cheek, and look into his eyes. "I want to."

"You want to?"

"Yes."

There's a moment where the weight of what you've just said seems to press down on Steve, making him pause. He looks into your eyes, searching for any sign of doubt or fear, but finds only the truth. He exhales shakily, looking like it takes every ounce of his self-control to do so. "Tell me you're not drunk."

You reach up, tracing his jawline with your fingers. "I'm not drunk."

"Fuck..." he mutters, trying to concentrate as you trail your fingers down his neck, over his collarbone. "Really? Don't lie to me."

You smile, shaking your head in disbelief. "I'm not drunk," you repeat. "I had like…two drinks. Are you drunk?"

Steve laughs, a choked-up sound. "I've had more than that," he admits. "But I'm…I'm okay." He looks at you for a long moment, like he's trying to commit your face to memory, just in case. Then he leans in, kissing you softly, his lips moving against yours with a tenderness that belies his earlier urgency. "But even if I were drunk, you're welcome to take advantage of me anytime."

You smile against his lips, wrapping your arms around his neck. "I'll keep that in mind," you whisper, feeling a rush of affection for him. Steve groans into the kiss, pressing your back against the mattress as his hips move between your legs. His skin feels hot against yours, his muscles tense, and with nothing but the thin fabric of your bikini bottom and his swim trunks between you, there's little left for the imagination.

"Steve," you breathe out as he kisses his way down your neck, nipping at your skin with his teeth. His name feels heavy in your mouth, like you've been holding it there for years and it's finally been given the chance to be spoken. "Steve…"

"You keep saying my name like that and I'm going to lose it."

You feel the wet heat of his mouth as he kisses his way back down your neck, over your collarbone. His fingers are patient, too patient as they trail up your sides, over your ribs, stopping just shy of your breasts like he's afraid he'll go too far, too fast, too soon.

"Can I-"

"Yes."

His laughter is soft as he pulls back to look at you, eyes half-lidded and mouth slightly parted. He brushes a strand of wet hair away from your face, tracing the line of your jaw with his thumb. "You don't even know what I was going to say."

"What were you going to say?"

He smiles, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. "Something about wanting you. About how I can't believe I'm finally here with you." His fingers drift lower, tracing the curve of your neck before one hooks playfully under the delicate string of your bikini top. "I was going to ask if I could touch you."

You nod, feeling the anticipation building inside you. "Yes," you breathe, arching into his touch. "Please."

His smile is slow, almost wicked. He lets go of the string and instead cups your breast, thumb tracing the hardening peak of your nipple through the thin fabric of your top. Your back arches further, and a soft moan escapes your lips as his fingers find purchase and squeeze. He pulls back slightly, watching as you close your eyes, your chest rising and falling rapidly. "Is this okay?" he whispers, tracing a circle around your nipple with his finger.

"Yes," you manage to choke out.

Steve hums in understanding, his touch growing more confident as he cups your breast in his hand, squeezing gently before circling your nipple with his thumb. The sensation is almost too much, making your hips twitch against his as you arch further into the touch.

He wonders for a moment if he should take it further, if he should untie the knot and push the bikini top down, revealing your breasts to his touch...would you be okay with that? Or should he keep going, teasing you until you beg? His eyes flicker down to your lips, watching as they part slightly with each shallow breath, how your tongue darts out to wet them.

You're so beautiful, he thinks, almost dizzy from the sight of you.

He can feel the warmth between his legs, the insistent pressure as his cock strains against the fabric of his trunks. You'll be the death of him, he's certain. He's already so fucking hard and you're not even naked yet.

He leans in, lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, "Can I?"

He kisses your neck, your collarbone, your shoulder. And then his fingers slide lower, tracing the line of your stomach, pausing at your navel…

"Can I touch you here?"

The feel of his fingers tracing the line of your stomach, so close to where you ache for him to touch, is almost too much to bear. You chuckle as you arch your back, offering him more of your skin, more of yourself, then grabbing his wrist when he doesn't seem convinced, guiding his hand lower.

"Please," grinning, you run your fingers through his hair with your free hand, feeling the dampness there as it clings to the strands, "stop asking."

He smiles against your skin, his fingers finding the soft, warm skin of your inner thigh, tracing up and down, so close to where you're aching for him. "You're sure?" he whispers, his voice low and teasing. "You're sure you want this?"

"Steve Harrington, you-"

But you can't even finish the sentence before he's kissing you, his mouth warm and wet and demanding as his fingers finally slip between your legs, sliding beneath the thin scrap of fabric and you gasp into his mouth, arching into his touch, forgetting whatever insult you were going to say.

You feel the rough pad of his index finger against your clit, and then he's pressing, circling, teasing.

"Fuck."

"You're so wet," he breathes, watching your face. "So fucking wet for me, honey, God," His fingers move faster, his touch more demanding as he presses deeper, finding your entrance and circling, circling, wanting to push inside.

You grip the back of his head, your other hand clutching at the duvet beneath you, your hips arching off the bed as his fingers move in a blissful, insistent rhythm. It's been so long since anyone has touched you like this, since you've felt this kind of need and desire, but this…this is even better than you could have imagined. This is Steve, your Steve.

"I want you inside me," you pant before you can think twice about it, your words breathless and urgent. "Please."

Steve hums, his fingers still working their magic as he leans forward, kissing your neck, your shoulder, your collarbone. "I want that too," he whispers, and then he's pushing the bikini bottoms aside, throwing them across the room, revealing your wet, aching folds to his gaze, moving to trail wet, open-mouthed kisses down your stomach, over your hip, and finally to the juncture of your thighs.

Shit. He parts your legs with his shoulders, bending his knees to kneel between them. "Let me make you come first."

With...his mouth?

You prop yourself up on your elbows to look at his face, more than a little self-conscious now. "Wait, but you...you're gonna...?"

He wraps his arms around your hips, holding you still as he leans in, his breath warm against your exposed skin. Curiously, he asks, "You don't want me to?"

You shake your head; no, of course you do. But the idea of him going down on you...it's so intimate. So much more than just having sex. "I just..."

He looks up at you, and there's something in his eyes that makes you forget whatever you were about to say. Something that makes you feel safe and wanted and desired. "You just...?" he whispers, his lips brushing against the soft skin of your inner thigh.

It's hard to concentrate when he does that. You squirm a little, but his hold on you is surprisingly firm.

"I just..." You close your eyes, taking a deep breath. "I just haven't had anyone do that for me in a really long time." It's true; the last time you can remember was with a boyfriend years ago, and even then it was more of a "be polite" thing than anything else. But with Steve...it feels different. "Do you *really* want to? Because you don't have to if-"

You feel him smile against your skin as he continues to gently kiss his way up your thigh. "I want to," he whispers, and the way he says it, the sincerity in his voice, makes you believe him. "I really want to. But, um…only if you want it too."

You open your eyes, watching as he looks up at you, waiting for your answer. He looks so hopeful, so eager. If he wants this, if he wants to make you feel this good...how can you say no?

With a shaky breath, you nod, your fingers threading through his hair. "Okay," you whisper. "Okay."

Steve hums in satisfaction. You feel a shiver run down your spine as he slowly pulls your legs wider apart, resting his elbows on the bed as he leans in closer, his hot breath fanning across your folds. His hands grip your hips, holding you steady as he gazes up at you, watching your reaction, almost daring you to tell him to stop.

You watch, mesmerized, as he tilts his head, licking his lips before he leans in, pressing a gentle, open-mouthed kiss to the very center of you.

Boy... does he know what he's doing.

Your eyes flutter shut as he begins to lick and suck, his tongue dancing over your most sensitive skin, his fingers curling into the flesh of your hips, urging you to arch into his touch. You gasp, feeling your whole body tense, your hands tangled in his hair, your nails almost digging into his scalp. He moans, his breath hot against you, and you realize he's watching your reactions, taking cues from your body.

"Good?" he asks, as if you're not already on the verge of coming.

But you can't answer, can't form a coherent thought, let alone a word. So you nod. Frantically so, head thumping against the mattress. He smiles against your skin like he's won some sort of prize, and then you feel the slip of his fingers, two of them easily sliding inside you, tight but wet enough to be ready. You cry out, his name a desperate plea falling off your lips as he thrusts his fingers deeper, curling them up to find just the right spot.

"Oh, God..." you moan, your hips bucking up against his hand. "Steve..." Your fingernails dig into the duvet, your back arching as he expertly works his fingers inside you.

Steve seems to sense that you're getting close, the way your hips are moving erratically against his hand, the way your breath is coming in short, ragged gasps. He looks up at you for a moment as if to gauge your reaction, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. He keeps his fingers exactly where they are while he leans up over your body to kiss you, propping himself up on one elbow.

"You taste so good," his voice is a whisper against your lips as they part beneath his. "So wet. God, I want to feel you around me."

"Yes, please."

Your enthusiasm makes Steve grin against your lips. "Please?" he muses. He's hard, of course he is hard in his swim trunks, cock straining against the fabric as it leans against your thigh. But he doesn't want to rush this. Not with you.

"Steve," you admonish, sliding your hands up his arms.

His fingers are still moving, but more slowly now, less urgent. It's almost as if he's teasing you, drawing this out. Your hips rock up against his hand, and you feel a surge of wetness between your legs as you arch your back, seeking more contact. His lips find yours again, tongue sliding against yours as he thrusts his fingers deeper, curling them to hit just the right spot. You moan into the kiss, your body trembling as the pleasure builds, your fingers tangled in his hair.

"Oh God," you say in a shaky voice. "Steve, please..."

He groans against your lips, curling his fingers deeper inside you, searching. "Please what?" he whispers as he kisses along your jaw, teasing, not mean, never mean, but drawing it out just a little bit more.

In lieu of an answer, you find yourself arching your back in a desperate manner. His fingers brush against something deep inside you, something that has you gasping and tightening around him, close too close. His fingers find the rhythm you've been craving, your orgasm building, building, building.

"That's it," he whispers against your neck, his own breath hot and uneven. "That's it, baby."

And you do. It's unlike anything you've ever felt before, a rush of pleasure so intense it makes your vision blur, your skin warm all over.

Steve, watching your expression as you come apart beneath his touch, feels the warmth of your release coat his fingers, the tightness of your body around them. God. It's a heady sensation, knowing that he can make you feel this way.

His fingers are slick with your wetness as he pulls them free and gently pushes you back onto the bed. You're lying flat on your back again, and he's grinning as he looks down at you like you're the most beautiful thing he's ever seen.

"You're...very good at this," your voice is a breathy whisper as you glance up at him, a flush rising in your cheeks. You chuckle, wrapping your arms around his neck, bringing him down for a gentle kiss. Steve's skin is warm beneath your fingertips, his kiss featherlight soft against your lips. "Do you want-"

"Yes," he cuts you off with a husky laugh, leaning down to nip at your neck. "If you do," His hand finds the string of your bikini top, finger following along it all the way up to the bow. With a practiced flick, he undoes it but doesn't yet pull the fabric away, watching your eyes as he lets the knot slide free, half expecting you to tell him to stop. You don't, though. You watch him, your chest rising and falling with every breath, and something in his chest aches at the sight.

"You can take it off," you reassure, feeling a blush creep up your neck. "It's just me."

You hope that comes across as playful and confident, but maybe you don't seem so convincing when you're still a little breathless, a little sensitive, so you decide to take matters into your own hands and reach up, fingers shaking only a little, to pull the cups of your bikini top down and away from your chest.

Steve watches you, his expression somewhere between adoration and awe as you reveal yourself to him like a fucking gift unwrapped.

"You're unreal," he breathes. "You're so..."

When he reaches out to touch, just the very tips of his fingers brushing against the sensitive flesh, you try to encourage him by arching into the contact.

"So fucking beautiful," he whispers, leaning down to kiss your collarbone. "I can't get enough of you."

His hands slide down your sides, over the smooth skin of your hips, and then lower still, cupping your ass. He pulls you closer, pressing your body against his, slowly grinding against you. "Do you want..." he tries, an urgent edge creeping into his voice. "Do you want me inside you?"

Steve looks like he's about to explode at the mere suggestion, his expression a mixture of raw desire and aching need. You're about to reply when he nips at your neck, his teeth grazing the skin there. You momentarily lose your words.

"You're killing me," he half groans, half laughs, his hips moving harder against yours as he pushes himself as close to you as he possibly can. You can feel him through the thin fabric of his swim trunks, hard and insistent, and you're sure it wouldn't take much more of this teasing before he loses control completely. "Just say the word," he whispers, kissing along the line of your jaw, "and I'll give you anything you want."

"Can I...can I touch you?"

You feel Steve stiffen at your request at first, his body tensing beneath your fingers. "Of course you can," he breathes, a shudder working its way through him. "You can do whatever you want, baby."

You reach down, fingers shaky in your eagerness to please. You grasp the hem of his trunk and tug gently, almost hesitant, but he's already cooperating, kicking them off and letting them fall to the floor without so much as a second thought.

"Oh," you breathe, eyes widening as you take in the sight of him, naked and perfect in front of you. Steve's cock is already hard, a bead of pre-cum glistening at the tip, and you can't help but reach out and touch it, tentatively at first, but then more confidently, wrapping your fingers around the base of him and waiting to gauge his reaction.

"Oh, fuck," he moans, closing his eyes as you stroke him. "That feels...that's so good."

Your fingers feel warm and soft around him, and with each gentle stroke, he feels himself growing harder and harder, unable to contain the pleasure building inside of him. He opens his eyes to look down at you, watching your expression as you touch him, your focus solely on the way your fingers slide up and down his length.

Before you can get too carried away, though, Steve's hands are grabbing yours, guiding them away from his cock rather urgently. "If you want me inside you," he pants, a strained smile tugging at his lips, "you're going to have to stop that." His voice is a little shaky, a little rough, and you can tell he's struggling to keep himself in check.

You grin up at him. "I...do want that."

Steve's answering smile is a little more confident now, and he leans forward, brushing the pad of his index finger across your lips, tracing the shape of your bottom lip as he does so. "I think you've had enough teasing today," he whispers, hand moving to cup your neck, his thumb rubbing gently over your pulse point. "You really want this?"

"Yes," you breathe, unable to keep the word from slipping past your lips. "Yeah, I do."

Steve's thumb continues to trace circles around your pulse point as he leans in, pressing his lips against yours. His kiss starts gentle, a mere brush of his mouth against yours, "Yeah? Can I?" sliding his hand down your stomach, between your legs, he adds, "Fuck, yeah, you're...you're wet enough."

You gasp into his kiss as he brushes his fingers against you. "Yeah," you moan, arching your hips up into his touch, with a grin, "Yeah, I am, I...you're gonna make me beg or something, huh?"

"I'd never make you beg for anything, sweetheart."

His fingers move in a slow circle, spreading your wetness around your entrance, making sure you're as ready for him as you can be.

You reach up, wrapping your arms around his neck. You pull him closer as he begins to shift between your legs, his hand coming back up to gently guide himself towards your entrance, and then he looks down at you, searching your eyes for some sign, some reassurance, before he's pushing inside, slowly, gently, taking his time to ease his way into you.

You gasp at the feeling of being stretched, filled, but at the same time it's perfect, it's...right.

He leans forward, bracing himself on his arms, and watches as you arch your back, your lips parted in a silent moan. "More?" he whispers, his voice a rough rasp. "Should I...?"

"More," you breathe, meeting his eyes.

And Steve gives it to you. He slides deeper, pushing in farther, stretching you just enough to make you feel so full of him. You're tight and he's impatient, but he makes sure he doesn't rush, doesn't force it. You feel the muscles in his back and arms tensing as he fights against the urge to go harder, how much he wants to lose control and just fuck you into the mattress.

He takes you like he's been dreaming of it for years, like he's never going to get the chance to feel you like this again. Slowly.

"Steve," his name rolls off your tongue like a sigh the moment he's all the way inside you, your muscles clenching around him in an attempt to hold him close.

He tries to remember how to breathe, pressing his lips to your shoulder. He feels you squeeze around him and muffles a sound between a moan and a growl against your skin, "Can I move?"

"Yes, I...yes."

He pulls back slightly, just enough to adjust his angle, and then pushes back inside you. The sensation is almost too much, the way your body seems to fit so perfectly around him, the way your muscles clench and release, drawing him deeper still. Fuck. You're so wet that he can feel himself sliding easily in and out of you. The sounds of your skin slapping against his is a perfect counterpoint to the gasping, keening noises you're making into his shoulder.

He knows he won't last half as much as he'd like if you keep that up.

"God, that's it," he growls, the words lost in the movement of his hips against yours. "Tell me how it feels, sweetheart." One of his hands slides down between your bodies, cupping your aching clit, rubbing in a tight circle as he thrusts into you. The sensation is overwhelming, too much and not nearly enough all at once.

Your legs twist, one hooking behind his back for leverage, and you arch into his touch, your nails digging into his shoulders as you feel the tension building, the familiar tightness coiling in your core. "So good," you moan, thrusting your hips up to meet his, wanting more of that friction, more of his skin against yours. "Can you go...faster, please?"

He's lost to the sensation of your body moving against his, the feel of you slick and hot and tight. He's close, so close, but he doesn't want this to be over yet. He pulls back slightly, only to slam back in harder, the head of his cock hitting the spot inside you that makes you arch your back and gasp.

His hand moves faster on your clit, circling and pressing, and you're so close now, so close, you can feel it building, making you shiver and writhe underneath him. Steve leans down, lips finding the skin of your neck, sucking and nipping as he thrusts harder, deeper, faster.

"Yes," you moan, arching into his touch, your nails digging into his shoulders. "Fuck, yes."

Steve lets his hand move from between your legs to the back of your knee, hooking it there, holding you open to him as his cock slides in and out of you with a harsh, wet sound. You feel so full of him, stretched and sore and aching in the best way possible.

He's so close now, the tension in his body almost painful as he fights against the urge to come before you do. Steve watches your face as you writhe beneath him, lips parted and flushed, eyes glazed over in pleasure like you can't quite focus. It's the most erotic thing he's ever seen. He doesn't want this to end. Being inside you like this, feeling the way you move against him...he doesn't think he'll ever get enough.

Your nails scrape down his back, leaving little red lines in their wake. Steve thinks he's going to lose it every time you do that.

"Fuck," he groans, the word caught in his throat as he thrusts harder into you. The sounds of your skin slapping against his makes it almost unbearable and he has to think of something else, anything else, to keep from coming. "Feels good, sweetheart?" he whispers, his hand moving between your legs again, this time finding your clit and rubbing in a steady, circular motion.

You arch into his touch, your hips moving in time with his thrusts. "So close," you moan, your voice shaking. "I...I..."

Steve feels the tension building inside you, knows that you're close. He watches your face, the way your eyes have almost rolled back in your head, the way your lips are parted and your breath coming in quick, shallow gasps.

He leans down, taking one of your nipples into his mouth, sucking and teasing as pushes inside to the hilt, holding you there, feeling your body trembling beneath him. You cry out then, your back arching off the bed, and Steve feels you tighten and pulse around him, gripping him like a fist as you come.

The sensation is almost too much, but he somehow manages to ask, "Can I come inside you?"

You nod, your eyes closed tightly, and he thrusts once, twice…then one last time, feeling himself spill inside you as he moans, body tensing and then relaxing, spent.

Steve collapses on top of you without pulling out, sweaty bodies sticking together. He somehow finds the energy to kiss your shoulder, your neck, your ear, nibbling and sucking until you laugh, shifting beneath him.

"You're heavy," you tease, but you don't really mind. It feels right to have him pressed against you like this, his heart thumping against yours, his breath warm on your skin.

He chuckles, nuzzling deeper into the crook of your neck. "Sorry," he mumbles, before pulling himself up enough to look down at you. You're beautiful, even with your hair tangled and your lips swollen from his kisses. "Do you want to get cleaned up?" he asks, running a hand through his sweaty hair.

"I think I love you."

The words tumble out of your mouth before you can stop them, and for a moment, you're not sure if you should take them back. But then Steve's eyes widen, his lips part in surprise, and you know it's too late. You've said it.

"Sorry, I shouldn't...I mean, I-"

Steve cups your face in his hands, his eyes wide and serious. "I love you too," he says, his voice a little unsteady. "I have for a long time."

He leans in, pressing his lips to yours gently, then more firmly, as if he's making sure this is real, that you feel it too.

But you feel it too.

God, you feel it too.

#🏷️ amy's flea market #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington x you #steve harrington oneshot #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington angst #steve x you #steve x reader #stranger things fanfic #stranger things imagine #steve harrington drabble

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yesimwriting · 3 months

Note

pleaseee write smth about that fight between Felix and reader

a/n i've been thinking about this scene for days so when i saw this ask i got so hyped

warnings: reader being AFAB/female is plot relevant (reader's father has always wanted a son), implied emotional/financial parental abuse (not described in too much detail), potentially inaccurate portrayal of early-ish 2000's phones bc i was a toddler during their oxford era, hurt/comfort

we're getting into reader's background!!

itallic texts = from felix, bold texts = from reader

There's a scratch embedded into the dark mahogany. It's small, no wider than something you could make with your finger nail.

"How's your food?"

Your attention shifts towards the ceramic plate that's almost covering the dining table's only blemish. "It's good," you mumble with a slight nod, fork instinctually jabbing at a piece of food without you even looking at it. "Yours?"

"Great," he hums casually, cutting into his steak. "Part of the reason I picked this hotel is because of the restaurant. The visiting chef's a guy that I met in New York when he was looking into financing an international expansion of his franchise."

You bring your utensil to your lips. "That's cool, daddy."

The comment only strengthens the question that's been silently ebbing at your mind since your father first suggested lunch. Why did he order room service instead of taking you to the hotel's restaurant? Your dad has always loved the ambiance, the leisure of sitting in a nice restaurant.

"Is that why you're in town?" You reach for your glass, taking a sip of your drink before continuing. "To finalize something with the chef?"

He sets down his knife. "That and a few other business arrangements that needed to be checked on." He pauses, shoulders relaxing. "And to see you, too, Ace. It feels like it's been awhile since we talked."

Your lips quirk into what's almost a smile. When your father called to let you know that he'd be staying near Oxford for work and that he wanted you to visit, you had been apprehensive at first. Your mother was cautiously supportive of the idea.

Things with your father have been relatively stable recently. He liked the way no university seemed off limits to you with your grades and extracurriculars. He loved the idea of a daughter studying abroad at Oxford (which, is part of the reason you seriously considered Princeton for some time). And he's been drinking less. Part of that whole reborn, second marriage to a late-20-something methodist thing.

"Yeah, dad," you agree, as sincerely as you can manage, "It's been awhile."

"You know I'm friends with one of your deans." He doesn't give you a chance to reply. "We had coffee together, and he told me you're on track to finish in the top 10%." Rumors about the top percentages had been circling around Oxford for the past month. Still, it's relieving to know. "Congratulations, Ace."

This time, your smile meets your eyes. "Thanks."

He smiles, a flash of something practiced and charming. "When I get home, the first thing I'm doing is picking out a gift to send to you."

"If you need time, you can always wait and give it to me over the summer."

The infamous summer. Your mother is going to be spending most of the summer volunteering for an organization that brings counseling to children that have survived traumatic experiences but can't affording therapy. Your father suggested that you stay with him for a little while so that you wouldn't have to spend an entire two months in an empty house.

He stretches an arm like he wants to pick up his fork, but decides against it. "I--I want to tell you something." His tone is softer now, almost hesitant. "But you have to promise not to cry."

You try to swallow around the lump in your throat, body familiar with the command. "Okay?"

"I don't know if this summer's going to work out the way we talked about." He taps his fingers against the surface of the table. Your eyes lock on the scratch marring the wood. "Things have gotten complicated."

"Complicated?"

Your father sighs. "I'm sure you've noticed Christine's not here." You can't bring yourself to react at the mention of your step-mother's name. "She isn't in--she isn't in the best condition to travel." The tapping continues. "Christine's pregnant. She's due in early June, and she isn't having an easy time. I think it'd be best to not do anything that could potentially be stressful."

Oh.

"It's a boy."

Oh. A boy. With his perfect wife, in his perfect penthouse on the Upper East Side. Of course. Of fucking course.

You can't breathe right or thing of the way you're supposed to react. All you can do is stare at the scratch. At the only thing that indicates that anything bad has ever happened to the table.

"You promised you wouldn't cry." The words feel far. "You look too much like your mother when you cry."

That seems to force you back to earth. Any and all reminders of your mother must be eradicated in his presence. "I know. I'm not going to cry." You blink once, hand moving to wipe away tears you refuse to let spill. "Congratulations."

He's quiet for a moment, pressing his lips together, before finally settling on a perfunctory, "Thank you." After a beat of silence, he continues, "Were you planning on staying tonight? I was thinking of flying back early, but I can--"

"Oh, no," you shake your head once, "I actually have a lot of homework, so it's probably better for me to get back."

Your father nods, "Always the academic, Ace." He pushes his seat back. "If you're done eating, I can walk you to the lobby and have my driver take you back."

"Yeah," you push back your own seat and stand, "Sounds good."

The two of you reach the front doors of the suite. "Hey," your father starts, "Why don't you travel this summer? That's all I did during college breaks. I'll pay so you can do it up right. You should go somewhere with a friend. Paris, maybe. You two always had fun as kids."

You nod once, trying to keep your expression neutral. "Yeah, daddy, I'll ask Paris about what she's doing this summer."

"Good." He pauses at the door, reaching into the pocket of his slacks. He pulls out his wallet and counts out a few bills. "Here. A pre-gift." You hesitate. "C'mon, top 10%."

Your mother's voice rings in your ears. He won't change, you might as well take the money. You stretch out a hand, forcing a smile as you take the cash. "Thanks."

----

Stupid. You're so fucking stupid.

You really thought you'd be there all weekend. You really thought Christine would let you into her home for longer than a day or two.

And the pregnancy thing? That--that's going to get back to your mom in one way or another if you don't tell her. And hearing that, hearing that your dad's finally getting his son is going to kill her.

It's all you've been thinking about since you got back yesterday afternoon. After mumbling a halfhearted explanation to your roommate, you changed into some pajama shorts and a giant T-shirt that you only realized was Felix's after the fact and crawled into bed. You've moved as little as possible since.

Something near the foot of your bed buzzes, snapping you back to the present. You flip the phone open, immediately noticing three text notifications. From Felix.

hope ur weekend's going better than mine

lovie

i feel abandoned

Despite your angst, you smile to yourself before sending a response: it's been one day.

After a minute, there's another text on your screen: so it's a crime to miss u. You roll your eyes, fondness pooling in your stomach. how are u doing.

The second question, though sincere, forces you to spiral. You want to be honest. You don't lie to Felix and he doesn't lie to you.

But, everything comes with exceptions, and making sure no one finds out how tense things actually are with your dad is yours. Before you two got close, it felt too private, and once you finally did, a few comments from Felix's friends made you feel like the worst thing you could do for your friendship was let him see any kind of darkness.

It's not that he'd judge you, he'd just want to help you so badly that it'd take over everything else. Farleigh's made it clear that Felix loves a charity case. And you don't want to be that. You won't let your dad take that from you, either.

You want to say that you're fine, maybe text a comment about things being a little awkward because it's no secret that your mom took care of you after the divorce. But lying about being on campus feels like something that could easily morph into something else.

Felix, who actually has enough of a social life to pull sleazy moves like that never has. i'm sick. came home early.

ur back!

why didn't u tell me

i'm sick, can't hang out

are u ok

do u need anything

Guilt prods at you. You've been texting him on and off since yesterday and never mentioned that you came back early. Felix is always so good to you. But, you're in no place to see him. no just need rest

You shut your phone. You're not sure that saying you're sick is enough to keep Felix away all weekend, but it could be enough to keep him away tonight. It's Saturday night. He'll have plans.

And tomorrow, you'll feel better. More stable.

"I have some time before I'm supposed to go to Jake's. I stole some bread from the dining hall." Nadia's offer is gentle. "Do you want to go feed the ducks?"

You wipe at your face. "That's a really nice offer, Nadia, but I'm feeling a little sick. Maybe when you get back?"

She frowns. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yeah," you mumble, "I just need some sleep."

"You've been sleeping on and off since yesterday afternoon." Nadia hesitates, eyes darting towards the bathroom. She does need to start getting ready for her date. "Maybe you can call Felix later? It's Saturday night, you know there's some terribly exclusive, not meant for any of us ordinaries party he's dying to take you to."

The attempt at humor is enough to get you to roll onto your side. "Since when do you like Felix?"

To be fair, Nadia's never disliked Felix. Before you became friends with him, she had a bit of a crush on him in that way that all freshmen girls at Oxford do. After you started hanging out with him all the time, that crush turned into an awareness that fueled her worry. She's always implied her concern that he'd eventually hurt you.

"I've never not liked him," she mumbles, "I was just scared he'd break your heart, but, the last couple of times he's come over...something about the way he looks at you."

"So you finally accepted we're just friends?"

She walks towards the bathroom, "Didn't say that."

You roll your eyes, letting yourself rest on your back. You shut your eyes, trying to force out any thoughts of the outside world as you drift off.

The familiar creek of the hinges of your room's door pulls you back to reality slowly.

"Took you long enough." Nadia's voice. "All she does is sleep and mope. She didn't even want to go feed the ducks today."

"She loves feeding the ducks." Another familiar, much more moving voice. You manage to move, wiping at your eyes as you sit up.

"I know!"

You finally sit up, blinking your eyes as your vision adjusts. Felix. He's standing in near the foot of your bed. "Felix--I-I told you I'm fine. Just a little sick."

"Nadia called and told me the opposite."

You turn your head to glare at you roommate, who doesn't even have the decency to look ashamed. "You stole my phone and called him?"

"I had to," she defends. "All you do is sleep and cry, and you've been like this since you came back yesterday."

Felix's expression drops as soon as the final word comes out. Your eyes widen, head shaking as subtly as possible as if a too late warning will erase the sentence from existence.

"Wait," his voice is softer than you've ever heard it, "You've been back since yesterday and you didn't tell me?"

You swallow, unable to look away from Felix.

"I--I have to go." Nadia's announcement breaks through the stiff silence. "I'll be back sometime tomorrow, so um..." She turns away, swinging an overnight bag over her shoulder before disappearing out the door. You can't blame her for running out as soon as possible.

"Felix," your voice is low, gravely, "Darling."

"Don't." His eyebrows pinch together, sadness tinging his expression. It doesn't fit him. "Why--why wouldn't you tell me you were here?"

You sit up a little straighter, wiping at your eyes with the back of your palm. "I told you I'm sick. I'm not up for anything right now."

Felix is still watching you with that kicked puppy look. "That doesn't--" He cuts himself off with a sigh. "You know I don't care if you don't want to do anything. We can--we can just sit or-or talk, or read or--do nothing." Felix presses his lips together, "I thought you knew that."

You know he's right, and that makes it harder to look at him. Felix would have been a sweetheart about it. He would have let you mope, cry even, and he would've spent the entire time holding you. It should have been easy to tell Felix, instinctual...and yet...

Your eyes briefly shut. "I do." The admission's painful to get out. Some of your hesitation was over the way Felix reacts to tragedy, but the rest is something more personal. Telling Felix would have solidified it. Would have made that label of 'abandoned child' that you've always been so wary about permanent. "It's more than that."

"Then what is it?"

Sighing, you push yourself to the edge of your bed. "My head hurts, I need a Tylenol."

Your words and movements are drowsy as you push yourself to stand. Felix takes a partial step forward before forcing himself to freeze into place. It's hard not to help you.

"Then what is it?"

You push open the bathroom door. "I don't--I don't know." It's a weak attempt at dismissing the conversation before things go to a place that you can't handle right now. "I couldn't get the words out." Still can't.

You find the pill bottle you were looking for on the bathroom counter and start working at twisting off the childproof cap. "We tell each other everything eventually." His voice is dry, almost hesitant. "At least, I do. We trust each other."

Your eyes shut as you sigh, fingers briefly releasing the top of the bottle. "Maybe that's not trust. Maybe that's your life being so perfect there's nothing you need to keep secret."

The words come out in a rush, angry and sharp. Regret floods through you instantly. "I'm sorry."

"No." The syllable is hard. "No. You're not. Don't do that. Don't--don't start saying what you think I need to hear--or keeping in what you think I don't." There's a concerned anger there, an unfitting combination that you don't have the energy to decode. "What could be so bad you can't tell me? We know about Ollie's parents and that didn't change anything, did it?"

Actually, things did change a little. Oliver's broken home life seemed to only make Felix want to pull Oliver into his world even more. You hate thinking it, because it's insensitive and a little mean, but of course Oliver was willing to give Felix all the gritty details.

After the initial implications came out, Felix devoured them with the same silver spoon that was placed in his mouth at birth. In a way, Felix's desire to fix and ease pain brought them closer together. And it probably means more to Oliver coming from Felix than anyone else.

But your relationship with Felix is different. You don't want sadness and coddling to be what makes you feel certain in your bond with Felix. You want things to stay the same. You don't want to give your dad anyway to change one of the most important connections in your life.

"You have a big heart, Felix, and I love that about you." Your hand reaches for the Tylenol again. "But I don't want you helping me to become all that I am to you. I don't want to be a charity case." You squeeze your eyes shut, cringing at your wording. "And--and I'm not trying to say that Ollie's just a charity case, it's that--some stuff Farleigh's said and--" Tears are pricking the edge of your vision.

"You're more than that," he scoffs the words out like it's ridiculous he even has to say that, "Of course you're more than that, I thought you knew." He scoffs. "I--I don't just wait around for people."

You scoff, the sound almost a bitter laugh. "Oh--so now it's not about trust, it's about your ego. That I don't just sit around next to my phone, waiting for the Felix Catton to call me."

Felix takes a step forward, "It's not about that!" You raise your eyebrows, uncertainty leaving you frozen. Felix has never yelled at you before. "...It's not about that," he repeats, voice a more acceptable volume. He takes another step forward, his fingers finding your forearm. "You know how I meant it."

There's a tension in the way he's touching your arm. It's nothing harsh, if anything it's almost too soft. Hesitant. He's watching you with an intensity that pins you into place more than his actual hold.

You wouldn't be surprised by his anger, you're not even sure you'd be able to blame him for it, but that's not what you see when you look at him. You can't exactly read the look behind his eyes, but something about it reminds you of Nadia's earlier comment.

It's heavy. Too heavy for you to think about tonight. That's how Felix is. He's intense. All consuming. When all you do is blink at him, he lets go of your arm.

"Felix."

His eyes dart towards the ground, body angling itself away from you.

It's subtle, and not a direct dismissal, but after everything that's already happened, it's enough to serve as a final nail hammered into your chest. "I don't want things to change between us." You sigh, finally getting the pill bottle's lid to pop off. "Because I'm fine."

You force a smile, but there's a tightness to your features that makes it feel like a grimace. "It's not a big deal. So my dad asked me not to come home this summer, because his wife's pregnant and he doesn't want to 'stress her out'. I'm fine." You can feel the tears welling in your eyes. "Y'know it's a b-oy." Your voice cracks on the last word, a laugh or maybe a sob interrupting the single syllable. "So um...good for him, he's finally getting his son."

Felix is watching you cautiously, expression not quite sympathetic, but not relaxed either. "Oh my god, I have to tell my mom. And it--it's going to kill her." You gasp the words like the realization's just hit you, even though it's been on your mind since the beginning. "I don't know why I said that like I'm surprised--because I--" You laugh, the sound shrill and uneasy, "But it's whatever. I'm fine."

You nod once, as if that'll be enough to make you feel fine. Another sound comes out, this one a lot closer to a whimper. "I'm fine. I don't know why I'm being so dramatic. I'm fine. I'm--" You squeeze your arms around your waist, supporting yourself the way Felix usually would.

You're crying openly now, tears blinding you. This is pathetic. You need to get it together.

You're pulled forward with no warning, your body hitting something solid and warm. Felix.

His arms around you, firm and supportive. It's surprising enough to force a full breath of air into your lungs. For a moment, all there is Felix. You inhale again, and again, doing your best to hold the air in your lungs.

Felix's hand smooths circles against your back. He whispers soothing words that you can barely make out. Between that and the even rhythm of his heart, you manage to ground yourself.

"You don't have to be nice to me right now," you mumble into his shirt. "I was really mean to you."

He continues to trace patterns against your spine. "We don't have to talk about that right now."

"I know," you whisper, "I just--I don't want you to feel like you can't be mad at me."

He gently smooths your hair away from your face. "Can I be mad from right here?"

"Yeah." You sniffle once, letting your chin press into his chest so that you can look up at him. "If you want to."

"Then okay," he mumbles, knuckles running up and down the length of your spine, "I'll be mad from right here."

----

taglist; @vader-is-hot @spiritofbuddha @getosangie @freyafriggafrey @ilovehyperfixating @aryiannarae @willowpains @ker0senebunny

#bestfriend!felix x reader #bestfriend!felix #saltburn x reader #felix catton #felix catton x reader #jacob elordi #jacob elordi x reader

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sanemisstalker · 10 months

Text

Some Douma nsfw about his boobs- because I dumped my boyfriend and then shaved off my brows and idk how to feel about it yet.

Update: not feeling too hot, but you know who is? Douma.

CW/ fem reader with afab genitalia/ Douma is a gaslighter, and a whiny bitch / dub-con (recieving and commiting) / Sadomasochism / Gore (you get Douma so excited he accidentally breaks his own haw.)

- Douma isn't a very... giving lover. It's always take take take with him, but he always disguises it as giving, so it's very hard to notice-

-the problem only occurred to you when you realized just how unwilling he was to let you touch him. It was the fifth time in a row that you'd reached over just to give him a little shoulder rub, and after multiple careful shrugs and evasion, Douma simply turned and smiled.

-'You're not allowed to do that.' His face was all smiles, per usual, but the words were icy.

-'why not?'

-'I don't want you to.'

-'You do things I don't want all the time.' Douma squinted, smile still intact. 'What's wrong with me wanting to make you feel good?'

-'Am I not good enough at making you feel good? Why are you trying to self satisfy?' He'd taunt.

-'You know that's not what I mean.' You'd snap. 'I want to please you... You're always giving me head and fingering me and- you just won't let me do anything back. I don't feel like I'm giving you enough... sexually.'

-'You give me plenty sexually.' Douma assured. It wasn't a lie, but Douma understood perfectly that you didn't quite grasp just what he was getting out of those situations.

-You were an awfully pretty crier, but Douma wasn't going to let you know that. He didn't need you to know that, because you were very stubborn, and probably wouldn't take that as you should-

-Point being, Douma lived and breathed to humiliate you. Even if you were cumming time and time again, Douma was getting off on the disgusted, envious looks of his subjects as they'd been more or less forced to watch you cream on his fingers.

- He only liked to eat you out when he knew he could bite at your clit, and grip the muscles around your upper thigh so hard that you'd be all but paralyzed for the days to come- letting him have his way with you time and time again-

-blatantly speaking, Douma's an exhibitionist, and a voyeur. After all is said and done, and the night has crawled upon you, he's likely jerking off in bed thinking about the events of the day-

-because Douma's sensitive, but you don't need to know all that. You don't need to see how every orgasm shatters him. Or how he just has to put a couple of fingers in his mouth, tugging down on his jaw so he cam fight back the screams that would out him as a complete masochist-

-'Where's this sudden interest in me coming from, hm?' Douma would pry, trying to lead off the conversation, but his hm began to drag on as your hand latched around the rim of his shirt.

-Douma reached down to grab your wrist, but you lunged, shocking him slightly. You burrowed under his shirt. Douma could only look down at you, perplexed and somewhat annoyed- You were stretching his shirt-

-Douma's eyes snapped open as he felt your thumb land on his left nipple.

-'Y/N?' He'd laugh, but without any of the things that made a laugh warm and... goodwilled. 'You're on very thin ic-'

-His words dropped in his throat as you barely began to graze his nipple with the pad of your thumb- barely. The light stimulation, much to Douma's chagrin, rushed right down to his cock-

-You hummed as you felt it twitch through his pants, and up against your stomach.

-Douma would pull up his collar, peering down at you. You'd look up at him with pleading eyes, and all too gentle thumbs. Douma would drop his collar, and let his head lul back, annoyed at your little scene you seemed so desperate to make.

-Douma's heart dropped as he felt something slightly wet graze his nipple, before latching on and delivering the smallest, most hard-on-inducing lick, and then moving back.

-Douma slid a hand over his mouth as covertly as he could. His claws all but pierced his jaw in an attempt the keep it shut. His lashes fluttered as the cold hit his wet nipple, driving it to a hard bud beneath your leering eyes.

-With his reprimands dying down, and his cock rising up, you toyed with Douma's chest rather cruelly. You'd swirl your fingers in a circle around the areola, and then wait before harshly attacking the nipple. You'd feel Douma's body tense up in anticipation each time, awaiting the assault.

-Douma was going to collapse. You'd drive his nerves insane, and then leave them be- His dick ached beneath you, presumably swelling so bad it'd formed a wet patch in his pants that would be humiliating to have cleaned-

-and then he felt a harsh nip. Pain and then relief shot through his body, and Douma's fingers broke through his jaw. Puncturing through the skin and snapping through the bone and the tooth, Douma choked down a moan. The crack was deafening, and your head shot up, but a moment of weakness forced Douma to open his mouth.

-'Don't- Back. Go back.' He'd slur past his own fingers. His other hand would gracefully find your head, nudging you back down, and you'd oblige with glee, wrapping your lips around the bud and delivering the most mind numbing sensation Douma had ever experienced.

-'You're shaking.' You'd say in between breathes. 'Do you feel good?' Douma wanted to take off your head then and there, what a needlessly humiliating question-

-You pinched his nipple between your two fingers, tugging. Douma flinched. His body begged him to play along- to your whims. Anything for more of your abuse.

-'It-It feels fine.' He'd struggle to stabilize his voice... and to keep his orgasm at bay. Your skill was mind numbing- He could feel his climax ebbing-

-When you pulled away entirely.

-Douma looked at you like you'd shot his dog, if he could even care for a dog. You hadn't seen his fingers in his jaw, but you saw the after math, blood running thick down his neck and lips-

-'Guess I'll stop. I'm sorry I wasn't any good.' You went to go sit back down, Douma's eyes wide. It was an unusual expression, almost creepy in a way.

-'Are you serious?' Douma laughed, though this one had more life... more desperation.

-'Yes?'

-it was a beautiful look to finally see Douma pained- longing- in desperate need of relief he just wasn't going to get-

-His eyes darted around in question, back slumping as his dick sat up with the most ease He'd ever experienced...

-You smiled kindly as Douma raised up with shirt. It caught at his collar bone, scrunched up just beneath his neck. He bore his chest to you, nipples pink, puffy, and very irritated.

-Christ, you were gonna cum. You were going to fucking cum- he looked pathetic. The power surge that ripped through your body at the sight of him all but verbally begging was intoxicating.

-Christ.

-'It felt good, continue?' He was trying his damndest to keep even a semblance of control, but that look in your eye told him He'd have you work much harder-

-'It felt really good.' Douma slowly spread his legs, displaying just how hard He'd really gotten- His cock was straining through his pants. 'Keep going- I need to cum.'

-The word you wanted was 'please' but the sight of him struggling not to touch his own chest, fingers fluttering around the rim of his shirt, drove you back to his boobs with no hesitation-

-Douma let out a guttural noise- not a moan or a groan, but more of a wail-

-When Douma finally came- perhaps only a moment after you went back, it was because you'd nearly bitten his nipple clean off. The pain shot right to his dick, and Douma came- in his pants- head back against his array of pillows- jaw tight around his shirt that had slipped between his fanged bite.

-He even felt something a kin to a tear threaten his eye. How impossible.

-You weren't allowed near him for a week. Remember your place, slut 😤😒

#douma x reader #douma x you #douma x y/n #douma smut #demon slayer smut #demon slayer x reader #upper moons x reader #upper moon smut

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luveline · 11 months

Note

Shy!reader having to cover Eddie mouth while talking on the phone with her parents (being he talks way to loud) or her parents are home and he is just being him (she snuck him in)

thank you for your request!!!<3<3 eddie x shy!fem!reader (r has a mom in this)

Eddie thinks he's funny. You think he's funny the majority of the time, and you're lucky your parents think he's funny too, but there's a line between funny and embarrassing that he's just dying to cross.

"Is that your mom?" he asks, having turned to you at the sound of the ringing phone. His eyes light up when you nod. "Hi, Mrs. L/N!" he calls.

"Hi, Eddie," your mom says back, chuckling.

"Ask her if she likes the flowers I sent for her birthday," Eddie demands. You don’t need to ask, she most definitely heard him.

"They were beautiful, Eddie, thank you."

You repeat her message before sitting back, trying to listen to what your mom's saying while Eddie begins his attack. He loves your attention too much, and when he isn't the sole object of it he can start to play up. For laughs, mostly, though you know there's a thread of genuineness under it all, a taut string of insecurity. You reach out to tuck a curl behind his ear, hoping it says you adore him while you're too busy responding to your mom to give him verbal reassurance.

Eddie melts and props himself over your lap. You're sitting on the couch, Eddie on the floor by your feet, a collectible he's painting painstakingly slow on the coffee table in front of him. He smells like PVA glue, and he has grey and white paint dried to his fingertips, but he's still the most gorgeous thing you've ever seen when he smiles.

"Does she want to come visit soon?" he asks. "It's been months now. Tell her I'm still amazingly handsome."

"Yeah, mom, he's giving me a hard time," you agree.

His lips part. "What! Give me that!"

You lean out of his reach and laugh when he climbs up onto your legs, heavy enough to hurt when his knee presses into your thigh but not strong enough to wrangle the phone from your ironclad grip.

"He's really getting on me," you say ironically, trying to elbow him away, your head twisted toward the couch cushion. He tickles your neck, and you laugh breathlessly through words, "He works me like a dog."

"Oh, is that how we're playing it?" he asks, his eyes wide.

His shirts riding up his side where he's fighting you, exposing the pale stretch of his stomach and the dark line of hair leading up to his bellybutton. You have to blink a few times to snap out of your oggling, but by then it's too late —he snatches the phone from between your ear and you shoulder and clears his throat.

"Hi, Mrs. L/N. Yeah, she's fine, she's a tyrant, she had me outside painting the fence in the heat last week. I know! That's what I said," —he crawls backwards across the couch from you, his eyes narrowed so you know he's promising some bad behaviour— "she's a bully, Mrs. L/N, really, and it doesn't stop outside of the house. I'm always doing her dishes, always the one who has to fold the laundry." He nods, hums, his hand behind him on the table that resides next to your couch, almost pushing the telephone base to the floor. "Hm, exactly. She's ridiculously entitled, don't even get me started on how she treats me in the bedroom, I can only go for so lon–"

You slap your hand over his mouth, pressed so hard you can feel his teeth through his lips. The horror you're feeling cannot be understated. You're not sure you've ever discussed sex or anything like it with your family and you're not eager to start.

"Eddie," you say, your heart in your mouth. You can't believe he'd be such a loudmouth about something so intimate with your mother, and kind of furious. "Did you really just do that? Give me the phone."

He gives you the phone. You sit back down on the couch seat and bring the receiver to your ear, mortified. "Mom?"

She doesn't say anything.

"Mom?" you ask, a cold sweat on your brow.

"Oh, right," Eddie says, raking his hair from his face, a picture of nonchalance, "I think I hung up on her. Somewhere between ridiculously and entitled."

You stare at the receiver like it might give you strength. Eddie laughs boisterously, much too happy to have pulled off such a stupid prank, and doesn't complain when you ram your head into his chest.

"Oh, I hate you," you mumble, dropping the phone.

He draws a line between your shoulders to make you shiver. Will the teasing never end? "As I love you," he says. His hands race up your shoulders to the juncture of your neck, where he cups your face like you're a seraphim angel. "You really thought I'd say that to her? I have to see her every New Year's for the rest of our lives, you realise? I love making your life difficult but I'd never torture myself like that."

"You are the most annoying boy on planet earth," you say succinctly, miserably.

"And I am so, so in love with you," he croons. You hate that it actually makes your heart skip.

He kisses the tip of your nose. You push him away from you and collapse into the couch, unsurprised when he positions himself on top of you, your thighs spread around his waist.

He pouts at you before nosing the skin just under your bra. "Don't be mad at me."

You cover your face with your hands for a moment. You aren't mad at him now that you know it was a ploy, but he doesn't need to know that, and you really need time to flush the mortification from your system. Eddie grabs your wrists and pulls your hands from your face, looking at you through one eye. "Will you be annoyed all night?" he asks skeptically.

"Yes… No. But you have to call her back for me. And make dinner. And tell her you were lying about doing the dishes."

"I do do the dishes."

"You offer."

"Yes, 'cos I'm madly in love with you and want to have your babies, not because I actually want to do the dishes."

"Just call her, Munson, please."

He kisses your neck, your cheek, and the side of your nose. "Mm, okay. But not because you asked me to. I'm sure she'd love to know why you were in the bathroom so long the last time we visited."

"I'll never speak to you again," you say weakly.

Eddie climbs off of you and gives your knee a squeeze as he goes. "Well, we'll find other things to do, I'm sure." He cackles at your expression. "I'm kidding, sweet thing! Your secrets are safe with me."

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson scenario #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfiction #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things x reader #stranger things 4

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dykeomania · 4 months

Text

lovergirl!hazel headcanons

｡.｡ just some evidence of a love that transcends hunger, tbh.

a/n: i needed a break from writing a fic and wanted to write something sappy. this is the something sappy in question. wanted it to give how-you-become-hazel's-lover -> what she does when you're actually her lover vibe but it just got real mushy. i like it. i hope you like it, too. proofread, but i'm blind as fuck + i'm rusty, so.

tags: gender neutral (i think. i may have fucked up once or twice. please correct me if i did, i proofread fr fr over time. not intended for cis men), body neutral, and poc friendly. some niche reader things (tarot mention, reader wears makeup). mild nsfw -- kissing, making out, heavy petting. almost third base. starts in high school, ends in college.

practice fanfic etiquette. please don't plagiarize or repost my stuff.

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who sits up straight on the edge of your bathtub and looks up at you in complete awe when you're getting ready. she's got the dumbest, most lovesick puppy look in her eyes as she watches her lover line her lips, and apply a sheer coat of gloss on top. when they turn around to ask if it's even, hazel smiles so wide that it makes the apples of her cheeks sore.

she doesn't really know if it looks okay, she just knows that she wants to kiss you.

she only manages an mhm because it's what you want from her and, well.. at this point, hazel's convinced that she'd drop just about everything to give whatever you want.

you snicker, closing the space between you in slow and steady strides. "what are you looking at, huh?" you teases, grin stretched across lips lined nude, gleaming pink.

"mmm..." hazel can't help but like, drunklenly (she's dead sober).. haphazardly loop you in by the belt loop, head tilting easily to the right. "yyyyyou."

her eyes droop as she falls victim to the familiar spell that you cast over her. one that starts with you taking her face in her hands, and bringing yourself close enough for to take in all at once. she's made dizzy by the smell of your conditioner, made defenseless by the familiar trace of your body wash radiating off of your skin.

"what're you looking at me for?" you grin, your hands hot on her cheeks as you stand between her legs.

"why wouldn't i wanna look at you?" hazel gently manages, hand finding comfortable purchase on your hips. she grips gently with admiration, fingertips pressing into sacred flesh of something, someone, who she couldn't believe is hers. "you're just so pretty."

but let's take a few steps back first,

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who meets you purely by coincidence. you don't go to fight club, and you don't do cheer. you don't have any classes together, you hardly even know of each other. you do, however, have to work concessions for football together one night.

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who doesn't talk much, and honestly standing next to you feels kinda stupid with the bruise that she has on her cheek. she usually never really cares and she's usually super talkative -- she doesn't talk much because well.. she doesn't really know.. how to. how to talk to pretty people -- well, it's not like she finds you pretty, it's just.. anyways,

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who makes some dumb joke about athletes and you kind of snort.. and she's immediately charmed. hazel callahan who has a desire to keep you entertained, and continues to do so throughout the remainder of the game.

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who actually is in your class, but, neither of you just really noticed. hazel callahan who sits next to you in the weeks following. who spends her free periods with you. who eats lunch with you. who eventually gets around to telling you about fight club, over turkey and rye sandwiches.

"so you just, like..." you take a break from chewing, tonguing some bread out of your back molar. "punch the shit out of each other, and it's school-sponsored?"

"...well, yeah. but in like a self-defense, queer way. bring people together, create some solidarity. a safe-space on campus for queer community, kind of thing."

"oh okay, so like, in a slay way," you revise.

hazel stares. scoffing out a gentle laugh. "uh... yeah.." hazel furrows her brows, shaking her head. "um.. what does that.. what does that, like, mean?"

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who becomes your best friend.

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who really likes you. like, as a person.

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who likes you maybe a little bit too much.

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who doesn't know how to embroider, so when you embroidered her converse -- creating a wreath of vines, speckled with bright little flowers around the all star symbol -- she was so happy. but she felt so bad because she didn't know how to repay you.

"let me make it up to you?" she insists, fingers playing with your own, but not creating enough distraction to prevent you from protesting.

"what?" you scoff, subconsciously locking her hands with yours, as though you're about to declare a thumb war. "no, how?"

"i don't know! this is so nice, let me like..." hazel shrugs voice dropping timidly, "..take you out or something."

a beat passes, one that feels like forever. a large enough one to create space for all the butterflies to rumble around both of your stomachs, and for the elephant to pass through the room. hazel can't tell if it's your hand that's begun to sweat in your grasp, or if it's hers.

your eyes narrow at her, grin stretched into something cheshire as you shake your hand, and hers. "i think you just wanna take me out on a date."

hazel smiles sheepishly, cheeks flushing a bright flamingo. she shrugs, next words quiet and intentional,

"so what if i do?"

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan doesn't know how to embroider but she does have an eye for wildflowers. when the girl who shows up at your doorstep, it's with a dorky smile, a batch of spring, and a bandaid wrapped around her index finger and her thumb. the flowers that she biked about an hour north to pluck -- from a field she discovered after having simply gone too far -- are bunched together and wrapped in a trader joe's paper bag, the kind that her mom always leaves in the kitchen under the sink. she put the boquet together herself. spent too much time thinking about whether or not you would like the arrangement or the colors, probably went to the store to grab a few of your favorite flowers that she couldn't find.

"oh, these are for you. see, i tried to make this whole thing, like.. semi.. transactional. again, like, i don't really know how to embroider flowers, or like anything really, so... these were next best thing, i guess." she offers, as though it's nothing.

"you look.. really nice." hazel's eyes linger, stricken and dumb. she fills her lungs with air, huffing out her next sentence. "are yoooouuu.. ready to go?"

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who thinks that star signs mean nothing, and doesn't know jackshit about crystals or anything of the like. but hazel callahan who is all eyes and ears, criss-cross-apple-sauce with you on her floor, as she watches you knock your knuckles on a deck of tarot cards and shuffle through them for what you called a "semi unreliable, two-card reading."

hazel callahan who jumps a little when two cards fly out from the deck. who furrows her eyebrows when you turn the over. an the lovers and two of cups, both upright.

"what..." she snorts. "what does that mean?"

"um.." she watches you blush. "it means.." and she blushes when your eyes linger on hers, and then look up. feels her stomach flutter when she watches you take a deep breath in through your nose, like you're shuffling through all of the words in your head.

"...let's just saaaaayyyy... nnnew connections might be coming your way, soon."

hazel has no fucking idea what that means, looking at you, she surely could hope that that's true.

...

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who is shocked that you want to like.. have a sleepover with her. this doesn't really happen to her. like at all. but it's happening with you, so she's down.. but it has to be planned. hazel callahan pulls out all the stops to try to make sure that it's.. well, perfect, she guesses? she makes sure that it's on a weekend where her mom is out of town (not even because she wants to do anything but you know how her mom is). she asks you what all of your favorite snacks are beforehand, and offers to go get more if you run out. she makes sure that you have satin pillowcases if you have textured hair, just in case you forget a bonnet, or anything. probably does that regardless of whether or not that's applicable to you, because she hears it's better for your skin and what not. she gets a weighted blanket for you and some extra pillows + takes out an extra throw if she knows that you get cold easily, or damn near strips her bed down to just one comforter and gets a desk fan to face her bed if she knows that you get too hot.

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who you create a shared movie list with, and who will sit with you and watch all of your favorite movies. all of your least favorite movies. will watch movies that you insist that she must see and will do so with very little fight because it's whatever you want, really. hazel callahan who is very quickly realizing that she would do whatever you wanted, as long as it meant that it got you to smile.

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ (hazel callahan who, granted, talks through a lot of those fucking movies. like. hazel callahan who has a really fucking hard time paying attention to movies.)

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who clearly has overthought everything. who laughs at and understands all of your dumb jokes and is always a little shocked when you laugh at hers. who lets you rest your head on her shoulder when you watch movies in her home-theater. who lays with you in her bed and compares your tiktok for you page with hers and finds it a little too easy to poke fun of you. finds it not as easy to remain calm when your head rests comfortably on her chest, and thus hopes to god that all of the cringy tiktok audios are masking the sound of her heart beating out of her chest.

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who looks at you when you mention that it's getting late, and insists that there's a guest room if you wanna sleep in there, or an air mattress that she was supposed to blow up.

"it's too late for that, though." you frown.

"no," hazel, being hazel, is quick to reassure, shaking her head. "no, no, i could totally blow it up. we have an automated pump, it'll take like 20 minutes."

"mm, i don't know, it's still kinda late for all of that..."

hazel blinks at you. her eyebrows raise, corners of her lips gently upturning. "okay. i mean, do you wanna take the guest room?"

you look up at her, eyes big on purpose. "that guest room's kinda scary." you lift a brow. "it's dark. and cold."

hazel thinks she might.. be tripping. she has to be. her blink is slow, and her face knots together, and releases -- the way it does when she gets all timid and indecisive. "o..kay..." she grins nonetheless, furrowing her eyebrows. "so then .. where are you gonna sleep?"

"..i mean.." you burn, and so does she. "...i could just sleep here with you?"

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who can't help but feel girlish and vulnerable laying in her bed with you, her stomach tied in knots over how there is nothing usual about this situation. fully seeing you in your pajamas. feeling the gentle flesh of your bare calves rub against hers. being within such close proximity of you that she can still smell the lingering remnants of soap on your skin from your shower.

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who dares to let her finger dance on your upper bicep, but that's just about it, really.

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who only nudges closer only when you nudge closer. who only lowers her voice, when you lower your voice. who only holds eye contact when you start it, but is always the first to look away.

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who falls into a trap: eye contact held after some conversation that did not, and does not matter. she follows your eyes down, chocolate eyes focusing on the arch of your cupids bow. she does tilt her head up to find her nose nudging softly against the underside of yours. she doesn't know how you two got this close. hazel callahan who feels her hands grow sweaty, feeling your breath linger over her the chap of her lips. who nearly stiffens when she feels your hand press into her back, but instead arches into the crevice your body makes and presses her palm against your hip.

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who does what she thinks she's supposed to do, and kisses you -- soft and gentle, like the whispers that fluttered over both of your lips earlier. brief, and endearing.

her lips stick to yours, and then her lips press into yours. and then her lips open when yours do, and her hand tightens on you when yours does.

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who has no fucking idea what she's doing. like, seriously. she kind of knows -- i mean, okay, yeah, she knows how to kiss, but this is, like.. not just a kiss. hazel's kisses are brief. gentle, maybe a little slow. never this deep. hazel callahan who forgets herself when her fingers weave through your hair. hazel callahan who doesn't recognize the way her breath shakes in your throat when your fingers ambitiously sift through her thick, black locks and pull.

hazel callahan whose lips slot over yours, and unlock. who leans forward when you lean back, and is almost nearly on top of you.

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who doesn't know what to do with her hand, so she puts it everywhere. glides it over your side, presses it over the expanse of your lower back. who smooths her hand under your shirt and marvels in the way your skin burns against her palm. who itches to explore, traversing over your stomach, venturing up, up, and up--

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who stops dead in her tracks when you hum something sour in her mouth and grab her wrist. who looks at you stunned with parted lips as you softly shake your head against hers.

"not yet," you pant, opening your eyes to look at her. "not yet."

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who bats her lashes, dizzy with affection yet sobered from your action. she knows how you sound. not like you're rejecting her, but like you're admitting something, which you.. might be. something that she understands. regardless, she understands.

but she burns bright with embarrassment, stomach rattling with a guilt that crawls up her throat and wraps around it, tightening and tightening...

"yeah," she manages a whispers after a while. somehow, it's still raspy. "yeah, okay.."

"okay.."

"...m'sorry--"

"don't be," you shake your head. "keep kissing me."

you rush, and it's kind of just in time. whatever stinging was lingering in her chest subsides as you bring yourself closer, lips softly capturing her lower lip in affirmation after hazel just stares at you.

hazel callahan who blinks, oscillating between consciences, dazed and a little confused. she's cautious and readjusted, her hand only lingering over your side as she whispers a faint "are you sure..?"

the sentence dissolves when on the tip of hazel's tongue when her lips find yours again, at your action, which is her answer. hazel callahan who listens. who lets you take her hand and place it somewhere that feels more comfortable, somewhere that's right and yet still sensual.

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who is wiped, but intentional with every kiss that either you or her leads, every swipe of her lips over your jaw, every tender kiss that you let her place against the stretch of your neck.

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who will admire within her bounds. kissing you, and drowning in you until she is simply too sleepy to continue. until she is dizzy and feels comfortable enough to nuzzle her face somewhere into the crook of you, breathing you in until you become a part of her dreams,

and she will wake -- in the morning, and in the middle of the night -- only to have a hard time believing that she isn't still dreaming.

...

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who kind of has to get used to.. all of it. who crushes, even though she's already "achieved," so to speak. who grins at her phone when she's texted, who finds any excuse to facetime you and keep you on the line -- sometimes just so that she can look at you. who finds any excuse to be around you.

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who you can't get rid of once you go both go to college. who facetimes you whenever, who visits you on weekends. who comes into your space and steals all of your sweatshirts and your pajama pants and of course, all of your spare time.

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel "no, i can make that for you" callahan who can't embroider, but can crochet. she will buy you that jellycat that you really want, a hundred percent. hazel callahan will also greet you with a fucked up rendition of said stuffed animal that you wanted (giving jamdog, perhaps) and furrows her eyebrows when you have to hide your laugh with your hand.

"what?" she asks, grin dulling only for a moment. "do you not like it?"

"no it's--" you cover your mouth. "it's perfect." you cackle. when you cup her cheeks, all the worry and fear of judgement fades. sort of. at least enough. "you're perfect, babe. i love it."

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who does, in fact, keep a picture in her wallet of her lover, ready at all times. hazel callahan who weaves her lover into casual conversation.

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who still doesn't really understand figure of speech all that well so when you say things like "i wish you could just come over," she literally goes "..well like, i could,"

and then proceeds to make like, a three hour drive.

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who keeps the picture that you hate of yourself as her lockscreen and it's not to spite you, it's because she thinks you're beautiful, and she has no idea what you're talking about.

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who figures out what names you like to be called by throwing everything at a wall and seeing that sticks. pretty. handsome. lover. angel. baby. and when she does find one, one that makes you blush just about as hard as she does every time you even look in her direction, she holds it over your head to high heavens. makes it your contact name. uses it to punctuate reassuring sentences, when she greets you, when she tells you goodnight.

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who gets to take you on real dates, and gets excited to. who gets giddy when you get ready. who gets to fix your hair and come up behind you when you take mirror selfies once you're finished. who now feels comfortable enough to place her hands at the mid-point of your waist and let them venture toward your frontside while she rests her chin on your shoulder, and leans in to kiss your cheek. who tells you you smell nice, and makes you smile when she buries her face into some part of you and literally just goes rahhhh!!!!

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who is also stuck sometimes, in moment such as these, watching the wonder who she has had a crush on since high school -- jesus, has it really been that long? -- with gentle eyes and a completely disarmed disposition.

hazel callahan who is honestly such a fucking loser -- like, literally, loser-since-birth, no-hope-since-middle-school, gay-haircut-and-new-repotoire-can't-save-you, loser, and can't help but ponder and marvel over how someone like you is in her hands. in her face. in her life.

"m'not that pretty," you insist, fingers weaving through her hair, nails etching at hazel's scalp in a way that hazel has grown to like. love, even.

her eyes flicker over your face, smile lopsided and eyes heavy like despite everything, you don't even know the half of it. she scoffs, voice hardly above a whisper,

"yeah no, you are so much more than pretty."

#hazel callahan x reader #hazel callahan #lesbian #wlw #bisexual #sapphic #ruby cruz #ruby cruz x reader #bottoms movie #bottoms 2023 #lets go lesbians

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cutielando · 4 months

Text

i'll take care of you ~ jj maybank

my masterlist

You woke up to the sound of your phone ringing. You reached our for it and when you saw who the caller was, you immediately sat up and answered it.

"Babe? What's wrong?"

JJ's heavy breath was the only thing you could hear.

"JJ? Is everything okay? What's going on?" you pressed, panic settling in your chest.

"Can I come over? I'll explain everything" his voice was so small, you could barely hear him.

"Of course you can, baby"

"I'll see you in 10 minutes" he said and hung up, not giving you a chance to say anything else.

It wasn't weird to get phone calls from JJ in the middle of the night, but he was never this distressed. Your mind started coming up with all kinds of scenarios, one worse than the other.

The 10 minute wait seemed like forever before you heard the all too familiar knock on your window.

You immediately jumped and opened it, being met with the bloody and bruised smiling face of your boyfriend.

"What happened to your face?" you asked while helping him enter your room without making too much noise to wake up your parents.

"Nothing serious, it's fine. Doesn't hurt as bad as it looks" he shrugged his shoulders and laid back on your bed.

You stood rooted in your spot, staring at him. You knew where the bruises came from all too well, but it didn't help that JJ was still trying to hide them from you.

"J, please just tell me the truth" your voice was small, knowing that JJ couldn't deal with screams and anger.

"I am, it's nothint that hasn't happened before. I'm used to it, it's fine" he was now sitting up, patting the spot next to him.

You bit your lip but complied and sat down, putting your right hand on his knee.

"I'm sorry you have to go through this, baby" tears started streaming down your cheeks by now, sobs fighting their way out of your body.

"You have nothing to be sorry for, it's just how he is. He's not always like this, you know, he has his good moments" the fact that he still tried to defend his dad, beaten to a pulp by him, brought even more tears and sadness in you.

"You don't deserve this, baby. Nobody should ever lay a finger on you, let alone a hand. You deserve so much better" you rested your head against his shoulder, squeezing his knee in comfort.

He brought a hand down to his knee and took hold of yours. You interlocked your fingers and squeezed, knowing how much JJ needed to feel you there with him.

"I have you, and that's all I need. Don't be so hard on yourself, it's not your fault" he whispered, kissing your forehead.

"Please let me take care of you. I'll talk to my parents and see if you can stay here for a while. They can even become your legal guardians until you turn 18. I know they'll do it, and you'll finally have a safe place that you could call home" the idea seemed so simple and easy for you, but it seemed like such a stretch to JJ.

"I can't ask you or your parents to do that, babe. Being a burden to your family is the last thing I want to do" he tried to reason with you, but you weren't having it.

"No, you listen to me. I am not letting you go back home, JJ. My parents love you and I know they are going to want to help you. Please don't push me away, let me help you" you were basically begging him at this point, but you didn't care.

Nobody deserved the life that he had, and you'll be damned if his father touched him one more time. You were going to do everything in your power to make sure he'd never received another punch or insult from his dad ever again.

"Okay" he finally whispered after a while, chewing on his bottom lip.

You let out a big sigh of relief you didn't know you were holding and wrapped him in your arms, silent tears falling down your face.

He buried his head in your neck, taking in your familiar scent and warm hold.

He finally felt like things could finally take a turn for the better. Like he would get a new chance at life.

All because of you.

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demetris-cocksleeve · 5 months

Text

(A/n: I have no excuse or reason for this, but here ya go! lmao)

Word Count: 991

Summary: Even in death, Tate can't seem to shake his mother's insults. He DOES know how to make your legs shake, though.

Warnings: Praise Kink, Mommy Issues, Use of 'good boy" and 'pretty boy', Both Tate and Reader are a switch, Tate's a pretty crier

Age Rating: 18+ Minors DNI

(yes he gets 2 gifs, what about it?)

Tate Langdon x Fem! Reader: Shake

----------------

"-fuck!"

You spread your legs a bit more to take him deeper, both of you gasping out at the new sensation.

"I'm good, right? I'm good for you?" Tate is in shambles beneath you. A run-in with the ever-deprecating Constance left him in desperate need of some positive female praise and you couldn't just say 'no' to the tear-stained, brown eyes that begged for your comfort.

"Ah~" A smile breaks across your face as you lean down to pepper kisses along Tate's jaw. "You wanna be good for me? Wanna be my good boy, Tate, hmm?"

His cock twitches in you as you make it to his lips, lightly biting down on his bottom lip before lifting up just enough to make eye contact.

His hips jerk up to meet yours at a particularly hard thrust of your hips. "God- Yes! Wanna be so good for you! Wan' you t' use me. Use me any way you want; I'm yours! Mmh, hah."

You slide your hands up his chest to tug at his shaggy, blonde hair. "Just lay there and look pretty for me, then, hm? Can you do that for me, my sweet, pretty boy?"

He takes a second to answer, focused on how ethereal you look straddling him; using his body as you please, knowing how to bring both of you over the edge.

That's one of his favorite things about you: When he needs you to take the lead, he knows that you'll only take what you both need. That you'll command without controlling. That you understand his vulnerability and will only push him as far as he needs you to.

A groan is punched out of Tate as you clench around him, effectively snapping him out of it. "I can- ohh..."

Satisfied with his answer, you press a searing kiss to his waiting mouth. It's all tongue and teeth but neither of you care, too wrapped up in each other to mind. You slide your hands from his hair to caress his cheek.

"Such a good boy~" You singsong as you sit back, moving your arms behind you to support your weight on his thighs as you slam your hips against his with more vigor. His moans sending shock waves down your spine, settling in your already soaked core.

His hands move to grip your hips hard enough to bruise, but all it does is spur you on.

"Fuck, fuck- Please~" He shifts underneath you, causing his pelvis to rub deliciously against your clit.

"Oh god~ Tate!" Your head drops forward at the spike of pleasure.

You grab one of his hands to bring to your clit, desperate for the stimulation again.

Determined to be the best he can be for you, his finger works in tandem with every gyrate of your hips to tighten the coil forming in your core.

Ever the expert of your body, Tate helps you spiral towards your climax faster than you anticipated. You're gasping for breath as your walls start to clamp down on his cock impossibly tighter.

Tate lets out a groan at the feeling, his head pushes back against the pillow, thumb still rubbing firm circles on your clit. His eyes glisten with unshed tears as he tries not to cum.

"Don't stop baby... oh fuck, please," His plea is hoarse and gravelly as he starts to properly slam him hips up to meet yours.

"Wasn't- AH- planning on it." You let out a breathy moan as you fight the forming burn in your thighs, trying to focus on the heat curling inside you like an inferno instead.

"Oh- Fu- I'm so close baby. Please tell me you're close too." You can hear the strain in his voice. "Wanna cum with you~"

You're tensed like a rubber band being stretched to its limits as you try to keep pace. Your legs are shaking with the exertion, and you can barely lift yourself up.

"Tate- Tate, oh god, Tate!" His name is spilling from your lips like a Hail Mary in a mixture of content and desperation.

"What do you need, beautiful?" Tate pants. "Just tell me- tell me what you need from me and it's yours."

It's now that your legs decide to give out with one last quiver, dropping you against his torso. Without missing a beat, Tate flips you on your back, resting on his forearms as he takes over.

The sound of your heavy breathing fills the room along with the obscene squelching of Tate's cock as it pistons in and out of you and it's all you can do to not scream his name for the whole neighborhood to hear.

Almost instantly, Tate's boxing you in - arms flexing beside your head as he pounds into you. Your hands pull at his hair, dragging him closer to press his searing lips to yours once more.

"Good boy," you mumble into the kiss, broken moans leave the both of you just to get swallowed by the others mouth. "So good for me~"

Tate moves to bury his face into your neck, small cries mixed in with his groans and whimpers. "I'm good? Your good boy? Only yours?"

His questions start to get more frantic as his hips start to jackrabbit; his fingers digging even further into your skin as you both near your climax.

"Pleasepleaseplease-" he whines, begging you to cum with him.

And who are you to deny him such a simple request? Especially when he asks oh so politely.

"Cum, Tate -" you gasp. "Be a good, sweet boy and cum for me?"

And he does; a wet sob rips its way from his throat as he buries himself inside you, coating your insides with the pretty pearl of his spend. The heat flooding you is just enough to tip you over the edge as well - your nails scratch down his back as your head tilts against the pillow and your thighs tighten around his waist.

#tate langdon x reader #tate langdon x reader smut #tate langdon smut #ahs smut #ahs x reader #ahs murder house #tate langdon

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ashwhowrites · 5 months

Note

Eddie Munson x reader, maybe they're best friends and have feelings for each other but they don't confess their feelings. Christmas is near, so reader wants to take to opportunity and make a move, maybe she wears cute but sexy clothes and Eddie's in awe, and when they want to exchange presents reader's like I'm your present or smth like that (basically idiots in love, fluff to smut? Please!!)

Merry Christmas season! I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting <3 🎄

His gift

Y/N kept her feelings for Eddie hidden for years. It seemed like there was never a moment where she could tell if Eddie felt the same. She was scared to lose him and wanted the reassurance that he felt the same. But he was impossible to read. He only got excited about music and his campaign. Those were the only two things she could tell he loved.

The Christmas season was bittersweet. She loved the lights, the activities, the music, and the traditions. But she couldn't help but hate how romantic it was. She imagined Eddie and her in every couple that she walked across. She rolled her eyes at the couples skating together and cuddled close to the fire. She wanted that and she wanted it with Eddie.

Eddie was used to girls not looking in his direction and he was used to liking girls way out of his league. When he realized he was in love with his best friend, he knew it would never work. She was too good for him and she would never settle down with a lowlife. She wanted the big house and all the kids. He'd never be that guy who can give that. So he figured he'd never try, that way he'd never get hurt.

Y/N was too scared to admit how she felt until she was seconds away from losing him.

Last night, his band performed in some tiny towns a few miles out. As always, she joined the band to support. But she also got a front row to her nightmares. A tall blonde flirting her way into Eddie's mouth. She felt so much relief when Eddie pushed her aside, but what if he did kiss her? Would he have fallen in love with her? Y/N barely dodged the bullet.

Eddie was already coming over to exchange Christmas gifts, and she decided tonight was the night. She wasn't coming close to losing him again without a fight.

She knew she was testing the waters. She thought of sitting him down and telling him how she felt, but Eddie wasn't good with feelings. He always loved to perform his thoughts and feelings, she was going to do the same. She was going to show her feelings for him in a way he'd understand.

And a way he couldn't ignore.

~~~

She paced in her empty house while she waited for him to arrive. She had the house to herself for the weekend and Eddie offered to stay. She just hoped she wouldn't run him out the door.

He arrived with gifts in one hand and his sleepover bag in the other. A bright smile on his face and a silly Santa hat.

"MERRY CHRISTMAS!" he cheered, Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn't help but smile at the cheeriness he brought. How could she not fall in love with him?

He sat on her couch, the hat on his head as he held the gift in his lap. He eyed the shortness of her robe as she walked over. He was happy her gift was in his lap and hiding his obvious hardness.

He gulped as she grabbed the gift off his lap, a tiny smirk on her face as she saw the tent in his flannel pajama pants.

"Mr. Claus, I have a fear I'm on the naughty list." She said, planting herself slowly on his lap. She flicked the tiny puff ball at the end of his hat. The awe on Eddie's face caused her to giggle. But then she quickly tried to recover. But Eddie couldn't stop the smile that stretched on his lips.

"And why's that?" He asked, playing along as he slowly rubbed her thighs. His heart was racing and his palms were sweaty. He almost felt like he was having a wet dream and would wake up with a wet spot in his boxers.

But she didn't answer, she looked deep into his eyes as she undid her robe. The material fell off her shoulders and landed softly on the floor. Her hands yanked off his hat.

"Jesus Christ," Eddie said in awe, his voice hidden in the back of his throat. He tried to swallow his spit to get rid of the dryness in his throat. He looked into her eyes before trailing down. His eyes took in her breasts which popped out perfectly in the red bra she wore. Small white fluff material trailed over the top, matching how a Santa suit would look. Underneath the bra, slightly above her stomach was a bow that wrapped all around her. Eddie wanted to yank on it with his teeth and watch her unwrap. Her panties matched the bra.

"Nope, definitely the good list in Mr. Claus book," Eddie said, his heart skipped a few beats as she laughed.

"Shh! You're ruining my material!" She teased, she worried that the whole Christmas gimmick would be mocked. But she couldn't help but love that he was having fun with it. That it wasn't all serious, and they could laugh and smile in the middle of it all.

"Sorry!" Eddie apologized, his hands moving up to her hips. Slowly moving her body against his. He sighed in relief as her body rubbed against his cock inside his pajamas.

"What's the next line?" He choked out, he continued to move her hips, her body following along as she moved on his lap.

"How can I get myself on the good list?" She pouted out her lip and Eddie swore he was that close to creaming his pants.

"I've got many ideas," Eddie whined, his head thrown back as she moved her hips faster. Her lips attach to his neck. Her soft lips marked his neck as she trailed up to his jaw.

As she moved closer to his lips, he moved his head back to its original position. Both stared at each other as her hips froze. She flicked her eyes down to his lips. Her plan was working, but she was terrified to seal the deal. His lips were right there.

But Eddie didn't give her the choice. His hand grabbed the back of her head and brought her lips to his. She moaned the second she felt his lips against hers. Her arms wrapped around his neck as he wrapped his free arm around her waist. His lips were still attached to hers as he turned them around. Her back was against the couch as he settled on top of her.

He moved his hand that was on her head to hold himself up, making sure not to crush her. Not that she'd notice, she was locked in on his lips and how amazing they felt.

Once they needed air, they pulled away. Eddie panted above her, he felt electricity in his fingertips and his whole body buzzed.

"I've always wanted to do that." Eddie said, a smile on his face.

Y/N tried to say something but her brain melted. She was in awe of the way he looked so handsome on top of her. His lips were red and used. Because of her.

"Mhhm too." She said, her eyes were heavy with lust as she watched him. Eddie backed up a bit, his torso coming into view as he took off his shirt. Y/N felt herself clench her thighs, embarrassment traveling through her body when she realized his knee was between them. A huge smirk on his face as he felt her thighs squeeze his knee.

"May I?" He asked, his fingertips touched the top of her panties. His touch left goosebumps on her skin.

"Please." She whined, her head spinning as he slowly trailed her panties down her legs, throwing them to the floor. He quickly yanked off his pants, he didn't bother to take off his boxers, just taking his cock out.

"Condom?" He panted, his hand slowly pumped himself and Y/N couldn't help but whine at the sight. But she planned for this so she reached behind her, yanking the condom out of the couch cushions. Eddie laughed as she proudly handed it over.

"Planned it all, huh?" He teased, he placed the condom on, hissing as his cock twitched.

"Your present after all. I needed all the materials." She shrugged.

Eddie looked down at her thoughtfully as he pushed her thighs apart.

"Ready?" He asked, his tip slowly rubbing against her clit. He watched as her body twitched and her breathing picked up.

"Since like freshmen year." She admitted no time to be embarrassed to admit it. She wanted him and she got him.

But Eddie didn't judge, his dirty mind thought of her this way at the grade of seventh.

He leaned down and placed his lips on hers. He kissed her softly as he slowly pushed himself inside of her. Her hands gripped his biceps as he pushed himself further in. Her body clenched around him, he continued to kiss her lips. One hand on his cock to help push in and the other rubbed her hip. His thumb rubbed her skin softly. He felt her body relax, giving him the chance to push himself in.

She whined, her lips stopped moving as her body melted into the couch. He moved his lips away but kept his face close to hers. He watched every movement on her face as he thrust inside of her.

The way her eyes scrunched. The way her teeth bit down on her bottom lip. Her nails scratched his bicep as he sped up. She was a sight to see and he prayed no one saw her this way.

"Don't wanna kill the moment," Eddie said through harsh breaths, "but I'm so fucking close already." She felt amazing, looked amazing, smelled amazing and his body couldn't handle it long.

"Clit." She whined, she grabbed his hand, and moved it down to her cunt. Eddie took the hint, rubbing her clit in fast circles as he continued to thrust into her. Her breathing picked up and her moans got louder.

"Gonna!" Eddie warned, and seconds later his cum filled the condom. Y/N whined loudly as she felt the warmness of his cum inside of her. He tried to thrust throughout his orgasm, trying his best to keep thrusting for her pleasure but the sensitivity made him shiver.

"Please cum for me, gorgeous." He pleaded, his fingers still working on her clit as he slipped himself out of her. She whined at the loss of his cock but he was quick to replace it with his fingers.

His fingers worked inside of her, and his thumb rubbed her clit perfectly. He moved his head up to kiss her softly. His lips against hers as he whispered, "I love you"

She wasn't sure if it was the words alone, or the mix of it all together, but in seconds she felt her body snap, and a wonderful feeling washed over her body. Her body shook and her head flung back, Eddie's lips now on her neck.

"That's it, good fucking girl." He praised, his voice deep and low. She gasped as he worked her through her orgasm. It was the best thing she ever felt.

Once she softly smacked his hand, he pulled away. His eyes took in her cunt, the way it was soaked and pulsing.

He removed the condom, tying the top as he chucked it in the trash nearby. A mental note to throw out before her dad found it and murdered him.

He moved his eyes back to her, her eyes closed as tried to move. Eddie softly lay next to her, his arms wrapped around her.

"The best gift ever," Eddie said, a soft kiss on her shoulder as she giggled.

"I love you too." She said against his naked chest.

Y/N would like to see a girl try to hit on him now.

Tags!

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @manyfandomsfanvergentreblogs @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson request #eddie munson angst #eddie munson angst x reader #eddie munson fluff x reader #eddie munson smut x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson smut x female reader #eddie munson Christmas fic #eddie munson fluff x female reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst to fluff #Eddie munson fluffy smut #ashwhowrites #ashwhowrites Christmas

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simpjaes · 5 months

Note

sometimes i reread your hyung line and rimming post just for the sunghoon part. imagine step bro!sunghoon who loves having his tongue in ur ass to prep you for when he fucks your there 😵‍💫

wc: 2.3k content: you're a year older than him, thigh fucking, he's desperate to fuck ur ass, dub-con but like you really want it but pretend that you don't, he does not touch your pussy, anal sex lol p.s. @drunkhazed this is for u, not just the nonnie who sent the ask.

can you imagine step bro!sunghoon deciding that it's not wrong if he just plays with your ass? Like it's some sort of loophole in the system of your parents having a holy ceremony of that would connect the two of you as siblings?

it's not even that he wouldn't want to take every hole you have to offer, but more so the fact that he still has the guilt inside of him that's it's wrong. If he were to fuck you there, it would be too much guilt. But if he just plays with you, or you play with him, or if he stretches you open in different ways, it doesn't entirely count, right?

of course it doesn't, and that's what drives him.

it started about six months after his mom and your dad moved in together. the two of you would only meet when you came home from college on holiday, or during family events.

after all, it was super important to your parents that everyone was together for birthdays, anniversaries, and of course, christmas.

the sixth month was christmas, where you'd be in a guest room at the end of the hallway, and he would be sleeping in the other guest room right across from you.

that night, he took note of your outfit. he took note of how his step sister fills out any outfit she would put on, and he definitely took note of the way you carry yourself.

you're his type. you always have been, but goddamn it's so blatant.

his interest in you hit far before your own interest, but it did hit you eventually. specifically on that sixth month of knowing him, on the third night that the two of you were home, and at two in the morning on christmas eve.

neither of you could sleep and found yourselves on the living room couch watching some shitty christmas movie. Sunghoon was obvious by this point with his attraction to you and you remember doing your best to ignore it.

you couldn't quite ignore it when he laid behind you though, spooning you closely and chuckling into your ear when you felt what he was packing in his loose sweatpants.

you definitely couldn't ignore it when you felt his hands against your ass, and his little whispers of "no one would find out." and "come on, just this once."

you had tried to fight the idea, whispering small a small "no" to him despite your body betraying those very words and arching back and against him.

that was the first night you felt your step brother come against you. After he had pushed one of your thighs forward, tucked his cock between them, and silently fucked himself between your legs until he was gripping your waist and letting out whispered moans into your ear.

you can't remember what came over you to grow so wet when he was against you that night, nor what comes over you now when things go much further.

There is a boundary, and one that you can't say you're too fond of but Sunghoon swears by it each time you find yourself with him. When he stalks into your room in the silent house of your parents and tries to push further and further each time he manages to get himself off by using you.

"Come on." He would argue. "We've already done so much, just let me loosen it up a little."

he uses that same argument tonight, over a year since your parents moved in together and six months since he initially fucked your thighs on that couch.

little by little things went further up until tonight. Thigh fucking, masturbating together, him sending you raunchy texts throughout the time you're not together.

tonight, you can only imagine that he wants more like he always does. That same argument, those same hands holding you down against your bed, that same dark look in his eye.

"you'd make me feel so good if you let me." he whispers, pressing his hardened length against your core. "i won't touch your pussy, i promise." he adds, lending you another press of his hips. "Sunghoon, have to stop." you argue, trying to fight the fact that you're already drenching your panties like you always do when he makes his way in here.

"Why? because you like it?" he chuckles, dipping his head down just an inch from your face. "because you know i'd fuck you open?"

you don't know why you nodded before shaking your head, but it put the nail in your coffin.

"that's right," he nods to himself, sitting up and away from you before gripping your pajama bottoms and pulling them down. "you want it too, don't you?"

you don't nod, but you also don't shake your head. you're too focused on the way he adjusts your body to roll over completely, and then pulls you up by the waist and forcing you to arch your ass up for him. "never had anyone play with your ass, hm?" he whispers, twitching in his pants at the way you just let him move you around like a puppet. "i can tell by the way your legs are shaking-" he continues, boring holes into you with his eyes. "don't worry sis, i'll make it feel so good."

you hope he's right, as you tightly close your eyes, hug against your pillow, and pretend that the hottest foreplay and sex-talk you've ever gotten didn't come from your step brother, in the silence of the guest room of your parent's home.

you feel his breath against your rim before you hear his hum, and your body instantly tenses at the feeling of being so vulnerable before him.

no matter how pushy he is to have you how he wants you, that palm against you is always soothing. you're not sure if he knows that he does it, but he does. right now, it's pressed against the small of your back, keeping it arched for him so that he can lick a long strip up your backside, landing the muscle right against your rim and flicking it.

you tense again, only to feel that same comforting palm press down more, and his other hand spreading your cheeks open.

you're flustered, and angry that it does feel good. even more so, you're embarrassed to not fight him on this like you did before. god, he's so into it though, and arguably even your regular fucks aren't as into you as he is.

"mhm." he encourages you when you tense up, feeling you try to pull away from him only to have his hands hold you in place, pulling you further back against him.

you tense again, actually trying to wriggle away from his grasp but this time he's actually using his strength. He shoots his hands to your hips, and pulls you back so hard against his face that you can feel his tongue stretch into your tight, saliva coated hole.

more than anything in this moment, you wish you didn't moan.

"Ha," he chuckles slightly, pulling back to look at the way your body is positioned. "fight all you want, you always do." he comments, now moving a finger towards that same hole. "you always end up loving it too."

you groan, annoyed at the truthfulness of the words, then yelp slightly at the feeling of his finger sliding into you quickly. So fast that even the single finger hurts.

he can feel it restrict around him as he holds it there, knuckle deep before patting the top of your ass and twisting it inside of you. "Squeezing me so tight already." He smiles with a slight moan in his voice, "can see your pussy beg for it too." He hums after, watching the way your entire lower half quivers through his intrusion. "Shame I can't fuck that too, right?"

God, you're dripping too. He sees how slick and shiny your cunt has become and he wants nothing more than to bury himself into you right now. Clearly you wouldn't need prep work if he were do it there, but still, he shouldn't. and he won't. After all, your ass is gripping his finger so fucking tight, he can't imagine how strangling that will feel on his cock.

and he's going to feel it. tonight. Especially upon your silence to his words. Now more than ever, waiting feels like an eternity.

So, he does his best to hurry it up, aching cock twitching against his thigh as he watches your ass take one, two, three fingers before he slips them out and gets back to work with his tongue.

by now, you're a mess against your pillow, huffing at the loss of pressure from his fingers and wanting more, despite the searing pain of it. you can't let him see you actually want this though, so you pretend that huff was a sigh of relief, and he believes it.

he loves it, actually.

"you think I'm done?" he asks, spitting against your rim and now standing up on his knees, hovering over you and snaking his hand up your stomach to one of your free hanging tits.

there, he gropes you while his other hand hurriedly snakes down his pants to get his dick out. "as much as i'd love to hear you scream for me," he starts you, kneading one of your tits in his hands before lining up with your slicked, barely stretched enough hole. "you're gonna have to be quiet."

you accept defeat upon feeling the first stretch of a cock far too big to be inching its way into you. Moaning louder than you needed to or intended to.

"Fuck-" He stops, panicked hand pulling from your tit and instantly going to your mouth to cover it. "shut up."

You moan again against his palm, feeling him stretch you more and more with little to no relief.

He can't stop himself actually, sinking into the tight heat with eager anticipation simply because this is what he wants from you. That strangled feeling of your muscles jerking him off, wiggling under him to get away, all while trying to pretend you don't fucking love the way he stretches you open. "listen to you, fuck, does it hurt?" he asks, only slightly amazed at the way you're taking it.

you nod with a broken sob, drooling onto his hand as you try to adjust to how he slides into you inch by inch.

and then it's still. you feel him twitch repeatedly inside of you, and his heavy breathing behind you while his hand stays in place as even he struggles to adjust.

"does it hurt enough?" he adds, holding himself in place because by now, he's actually struggling more not to plunge into you fully until even his palm can't muffle your cries.

and he's shocked when you shake your head.

you just implied that no, it doesn't hurt enough.

which sets a fucking flame off in his cock, instantly, he's pulling out slightly, and then slamming the entirety of his length into you, relishing in your yelp of how quick he moves. "Oh?" He questions harshly, snapping his hips relentlessly, not at all ignoring how fucking hot you are to him right now. "big sis likes it when it hurts?" he continues, only going harder, deeper into you. "fuck, take all of it then." You struggle to speak, to ask him to stop, let alone to stop moaning at the pure rush of pleasure you feel. by this point, no, don't stop. Go harder, deeper.

You let out a small sound with each hard thrust, rolling your eyes back at the way he makes sure you feel every inch, vein, and pulse of his cock inside of you. stretching you out in a hot and wet way, now only to slip his fingers into your mouth too.

gagging you.

your throat restricts around his fingers the same way your ass does around his cock, and it takes everything in you not to throw a weak hand down and rub your clit.

thankfully, you don't care about self control too much, considering Sunghoon is currently fucking the life out of your ass, and you do. Yeah, you do run your hand down to rub your clit.

"Goddamn, you're really loving this." He chuckles at noticing the way you're pleasuring yourself, each tense of your muscles only hugging his cock tighter. "Yeah, get yourself off." He adds, stilling his hips after pressing his cock as deep into you as it can reach. "Let me feel it." and god, it doesn't take much to let him feel it. You work yourself up so much, feeling so full, and right then and there he feels your orgasm slam through you.

"So fucking tight," he compliments through a wince, experiencing your orgasm through the tight hole trying to push him out. "I couldn't have loosened you up enough if I tried--" he groans, now slamming his hips back, plunging into you yet again.

his thrusts paired with your orgasm does nothing but send him straight into his own heavenly feeling of release.

even as your body relaxes and you try to wiggle away from him, he holds you in place. Shoving his fingers further into your mouth, and pressing your entire body into the bed. His hips chasing to stay deep, and stuttering his entire body behind you as he shoots his cum deeper into your ass, silently moaning out into the air of your sex-fueled bedroom.

and only when he's emptied himself into you does he pull his fingers from your mouth.

and in an instant, his heaving chest and ringing ears sober his horny brain due to the way you suck in a breath and try to quietly cough yourself back to reality. the reality the two of you are faced with is one of two things.

one, this has to stop now that it's gone this far.

two, you've just learned that you like anal, and that your step brother is really good at fucking.

#enhypen smut #sunghoon smut #park sunghoon smut #.hard hours #.sunghoon #ask #hardthots

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bubbles-for-all-of-us · 6 months

Text

@ablev92 can't leave the boy hanging with nothing. This is not exactly your idea but something that hopefully will still scratch the itch. 🤍✨

His girl

"It's beyond me how you stomach that guy," Violet breathed out, her body slumping onto the mat. You couldn't help but let out a chuckle. Xaden was desperate to keep her alive. Wasn't hard to see why especially considering that he had so openly brought her to train away from the rest of the group and with the rebellion bunch.

"Less talking more working, give me five more", you tapped Violet's thigh, urging her to do a couple more sit-ups. The girl's muscles were nowhere to be seen. It still was beyond you how she wasn't swept by the wind while crossing the Parapet. She huffed as she pulled up time after time. Then maybe the brain was the better asset to possess. "Rest for a bit, I don't want to see your lunch all over the floor", you threw a water bottle her way that she barely caught, chugging it down in no time.

You let yourself sink to the floor as you too started your warm-up. Itching for a real tassel. You haven't properly fought in a couple of weeks. Even since during one of the patrols you got mixed up in an ambush. You slid down your dragon and injured your shoulder. It was nothing major but the boys were mother hens so you were not allowed to do anything.

"Do you ever fight with him?", Violet gestured to Garrick once more. Your eyes moved over where both Xaden and he threw punches at one another across the room. Shirts were already discarded. But then most of the time these boys trained shirtless. Too much body heat they said. "Shouldn't you only have your eyes set on Xaden? He's a jealous type", you asked her teasingly. Leaning forward to stretch your back. You couldn't see her face but she no doubt was red like a tomato. Violet couldn't hide her emotions for shit. That was another thing Xaden should teach her.

"I thought Xaden was the scary one but...", she breathed. Her yapping was starting to get on your nerves but then Xaden chose you for a reason. The rest of the group would have already broken the girl or she would be crying in the corner. "Don't say it out loud Garrick's ego might explode", you chuckled, reaching to put your hair up into a messy bun. "But do you?", Violet urged. You could understand her fascination this group was quite a sight for sore eyes. "I fought with all of them. Imogen, Bodhi, Xaden, Garrick", you said casually, eyes locking on the person you hoped would finally look your way.

"And you walk off the mat?", you could feel her eyes on you but you were already shrugging your shirt off, leaving only a tight black sports bra on, "Well, I'm standing here, aren't I?", you winked her way as you stepped closer to the mats.

"Looks very fun but I'm borrowing Garrick", you said casually, motioning with your hand for Xaden to step away. The guy simply brushed his hand through his messy hair as he smirked. "I ain't fighting with you", Garrick said coldly, turning his attention back on Xaden as if you weren't standing right in front of him. You could hear oo's sounding all around the room. Even Xaden snickered. "I ain't got all day Riorson, let's...", Garrick grumbled but you struck first, fist colliding with his hand and making him drop his dagger.

"You little...", Garrick bit back as he turned towards you, his big shoulders flexing as he quickly threw a punch of his own. One that you quickly dogged. Elbowing him in his stomach as you turned. It almost looked like a dance as you both swirled around the fight mat. Eyes blazing. You managed to throw him off balance slightly hoping to deliver a final blow with your leg. Unfortunately, it was Garrick we were talking to. He was the best for a reason. His hand quickly wrapped around your ankle as he tugged, your back met the floor as an airy huff slipped past your lips.

"He will kill her", Violet nearly shouted, her knuckles pale as she gripped the water bottle. "Relax, enjoy the spectacle," Imogen mussed. And she wasn't wrong. Everyone had stopped to watch. "He will...", Violet was about to argue more but her eyes caught the smiles painting both of your lips. You had quickly wrapped your legs around Garrick's torso, arm logged in his throat as you managed to turn you both around. Chest heaving for air.

"Want to tap out?", you mussed, leaning closer to him, locking eyes with the man beneath you. Garrick had a proud smirk on his face. You watched him slowly lifting his hand off the mat, fully prepared to walk away from this. But that same hand quickly wrapped around your neck, throwing you off balance as he once again pinned you right beneath him, "Nice try baby", he breathed right by your ear, sending goosebumps down your spine.

"Press harder, I like it", you purred back, making him rare back as you stared at you, "You will be the death of me", he released his grip around you but his warning finger was still pointing at you. "Go fuck it out", Bodhi shouted across the room, making some people laugh. Garrick shot him a death glare. "Be careful, you might be laying beneath him next", you teased back, making Bodhi bite back a laugh as Garrick shook his head.

"Am I off bed rest now?", you asked as you followed him across the gym. "No", he breathed simply, "You're still in pain, your left hand twitched multiple times. It hasn't healed yet", Garrick said plainly as he reached for his water but you quickly kicked it out of reach. Garrick stilled for a heartbeat. The rest of the group was used to you both nagging at each other so almost no one paid you any attention.

"Let me train", you said firmly, only to let out a yelp as Garrick yanked you closer, pushing you against the walk as his frame toward over yours. "I said no", he hissed back. But you knew what this was. You had gone missing that night. They looked for you for two days straight. Well... Garrick did. Against all orders. No sleep. No food. His clothes were damp as he flew over and over. Followed by your dragon. You reached up to cup his face and Garrick instantly closed his eyes.

"I promise you that I'm well", you said softly, "nothing hurts, it's slightly sore, that's all", you tried to reason with this big broody man. "And your fingers", he reached for your palm, you knew what he was looking for, so you quickly moved each of your fingers around. Bending and flexing them. Garrick let out a sigh. "Fine", he breathed. "I can train with Bodhi...", "Like hell is anyone else touching you", Garrick hissed back, making you roll your eyes.

Stepping on your tippy toes you wrapped your arms around his neck, Garrick rose to his full height, making your feet dangle as you held up. His hands instantly reached down to cup your bum as you wrapped your legs around him. "You're lucky that I love you", he muttered as he carried you back to his preferred corner. You gave him your best angel smile that he only shook his head at. "I love you too, thank you for trusting me", you kissed the side of his neck softly, before your eyes darted back to the room. "If you feel..", Garrick started but you cut him off quickly, "Even the tiniest sense of pain I will tell you and we will stop". He nodded at your words, frown disappearing. Violet stood there with her big eyes still on you two. You quickly saluted her. "They're like...", she breathed out, making Imogen let out a chuckle, "Dating, fucking, loving - all of it", the female mused, "Just don't stare too much Garrick doesn't like it". Imogen tapped Violet's shoulder making her turn for the mat that exclusively belonged to Garrick. She knew without having to ask that your roll of training Xaden's girl was now her responsibility.

#garrick tavis #garrick tavis x reader #garrick tavis x you #garrick tavis imagine #garrick tavis fourth wing #garrick fourth wing x reader #fourth wing x reader #fourth wing imagine #xaden riorson x reader

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